Page 56 of Gryphon’s Fire

Lazarus’s words ghosted across my skin, raising pleasant gooseflesh. I wanted to say more, but we were already at the car. I allowed Xavier to toss Lazarus’s bag into the rear. As expected, he was none too gentle. I eased my own bag on top, making certain to jostle it as little as possible.

That settled, we climbed in and headed deeper into the woods. The overcast sky pressed down on us. The overhanging tree limbs added to the oppressive atmosphere. When I’d left my home, I’d thought I would never get over longing to return. Now that I was back, all I could think was that this was no longer home. It hadn’t been for decades. I had a new home, and it was half a world away and buried beneath stone and dirt, a protective barrier making certain those I loved remained whole and well.

Out here, in the open, I felt unnaturally exposed and ill at ease. Now, I couldn’t wait to hop back in Lazarus’s private jet and cross the Atlantic again. Soon, I promised myself. Soon I’d be heading back to the location and individuals that now encompassed that all-important feeling of home.

“Keir.” My name sounded like a whispered prayer coming from Grandmother’s lips. It was a sound I wasn’t used to hearing from my stoic grandmother. Despite her age, Usha DeMerode was no wilting violet. Thinner than I remembered, my grandmother’s sharp eyes and even sharper features hadn’t diminished with the centuries. If anything, the years had only made her face more angular and her disposition more imposing. Different hues of honeyed brown mixed with lighter shades bordering on silver were swept up in a tight bun. Grandmother’s deep gray slacks and salmon-colored blouse were crisp and without a single wrinkle.

Grandmother didn’t ask me to come to her. Closing the distance and with unshed tears making her eyes glimmer, she stretched out her arms and pulled me into a fierce hug. Unsure what to say, I returned the hug but kept my lips sealed. We were alone, but I wasn’t certain if that meant it was safe to speak freely.

Lips close to my ear, Grandmother whispered, “Don’t speak here,” before pulling away. “Come, let us speak in the garden. The mist is clearing, and I have a desire for some fresh air.”

Grandmother didn’t wait for me to answer. She simply released me, turned, and headed for the French doors leading to the garden. I’d always loved this area of my grandmother’s home. While most of her flight members lived in their own homes within the general area, a few who didn’t have need of or a desire to have their own private space lived within the large home. Originally from France, my grandmother had the building designed like a château. The gardens surrounding the building were spectacular, each with a different theme. The one directly behind my grandmother’s private quarters was allowed to run wilder and freer. It had always been my favorite.

Moving away from the château, Grandmother wound her way down twisted paths. The plants appeared even more overgrown than my memory provided. Stone benches and water features popped up here and there. I’d thought Grandmother would lead me to one of the benches. Instead, she traveled to an edge that was riotous with color but devoid of permanent structure.

“It’s safest here,” Grandmother said as she reached for a nearby pink petal.

“There are listening devices?” I asked, keeping my voice hushed.

“Here and there. I’ve discovered most of them.”

“Most?” My gaze surreptitiously swept the area.

“It is difficult to lay claim to knowledge one does not have. However, I have solid reason to believe this area is benign.” Grandmother’s face was still turned toward the flowers, but I caught the edge of a grin. “There are ways of finding such things out. Some are more entertaining than others.”

I processed those words and ended with one conclusion. “You set verbal traps.”

Grandmother nodded. “Your cousin took great pleasure in some of them.”

Shaking my head, my smirk was honest. “I’ll bet she did.”

“Lulabelle is a natural. She will be a force to be reckoned with when my time is at an end.”

I stiffened. “Is that time near?” Gryphons could live centuries. While I was uncertain how old my grandmother was, it was clear she’d lived most of hers.

“Not yet,” Grandmother answered. “I will not allow this body to wither while your mother’s murderer is still alive and breathing.” Venom coated every one of those words.

“Eldon didn’t murder Mother,” I said, the defense automatic.

“I know.” There wasn’t a shred of doubt in those two words. “I knew it even before Lulabelle confirmed the knowledge. What I was unaware of was your father’s part in it. He will pay for his crime.”

I swallowed down the bile climbing up my throat. “He is ill. I’m not defending his actions.”

“Aren’t you?” Grandmother huffed.

I considered and tilted my head in acquiescence. “Perhaps. Mostly I believe I’m trying to explain his actions, as much for me as for you. It is difficult, coming to terms with what he did. Mother and Father weren’t in love with each other, but they did love each other. Or, at the very least, they respected and cared for one another. The father who raised me would not have harmed her.”

Grandmother was quiet for a few seconds before she said, “That individual no longer exists.” She wasn’t wrong.

“Wasting is a terrible disease.”

“It is, and that is why, when one is stricken with it, they must be carefully monitored. Looking the other way, ignoring the symptoms and covering up the results is what leads to tragedies such as this.” Again, Grandmother wasn’t wrong.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Would I have done something different if I had known? Could I have done anything differently? That might be the better question. If everyone was in a state of willing denial, then what good would my words have done. Perhaps I could have gotten Phina out sooner. But if Mother was still trying to protect Father from what was happening… I doubt I could have gotten Phina out.

“There was nothing you could have done had you known.” Grandmother answered all my nonverbalized questions. “Sadly, by that time, you had no power and even if you had, your words would have fallen on willfully deaf ears.” Grief, shame, and a whole lot of anger filled those words. “As is often the case, those that could affect change do nothing when their actions could have done the most. Instead, they sit back, hoping another will intervene and then lament the loss and tragedy when the inevitable happens. Those same individuals will claim a different outcome when a similar situation rolls around, and history will inevitably repeat itself. Past lessons seemingly lost to time and indifference.”

I stood there, staring at my grandmother, her voice full of bitter resentment. I had not considered all the things my grandmother had lived through. We’d both been alive when Fairy laid claim to the Earth, enacting their own form of justice. I’d been younger, but aware of the process. While it had been necessary, the purge had not been…pleasant.