Guardians Book One - Magic Rising

Chapter Thirty Nine

Kath buried her face in her grandmother's silk-clad shoulder; mercifully she hadn't even seen her as she would be, as a rotting corpse, but only as she remembered her, as the old lady remembered herself, perhaps. Smiling broadly – that familiar old smile! – Gran swept Kath up, pulling her into a mistimed little jig that made them both laugh. She caught sight of Pes briefly mouthing something to her as he spoke to Alexander and the little girl – the Guardian of Death – but she couldn't read it, and before a moment had passed she and Gran had been swept into the centre of the dancing masses. Kath shrugged. Probably to keep an eye out for James. I will. She cast a brief glance at the dancers around her, but it was hard to concentrate with her own dear gran here again. She turned back to the old lady, leaning in to kiss her wrinkled forehead.

"What're ye doin' here, hmm?" Gran stroked Kath's cheek fondly. "This ain't a place for the living." Her eyes turned more serious. "Ye'll need to be gone by midnight, Kathy, lest ye be stuck."

Kath shook her head, laughing, laughing. How do I even begin? "You were right, that's why," she told her, breathless and joyful, ignoring the warning for the moment. "You were so right."

"We were right," corrected the old lady. Kath nodded. There was so much she wanted to ask.

"Why couldn't Mum see?"

Gran sighed. "When she was wee, just knee-high to a grasshopper...she could. An' she laughed an' was happy, but she always was a one for image and bein' accepted. So she pretended she did'na, until she believed it. 'tis why she sold my house so quickly after I passed. She wanted rid of that kind'a memory."

Kath nodded, no longer shocked or hurt by the thought. Yeah. I guess I knew that. "And Ben?"

To her surprise, her Gran's eyes lowered, a frown crossing her forehead. After a hesitant moment, she said, "It's a bad thing to say of a bairn. An' yer mum...aye, she loves him. But...that one. He's not like us, Kathy. I know he's yer brother but..." She shook her head.

"Huh?" Kath stared at her gran's face, trying to understand. "What d'you mean?"

But the old lady refused to be drawn. "He couldn'a see the magic, dearie. That's just one of those things. Now ye have to tell me what brings ye here...afore it is too late." She glanced meaningfully at a massive clock above the long, red-carpeted staircase behind the dancers. It read: 11.15. The slim gold hands shimmered unsettlingly, and Kath looked away.

"What happens at midnight? This isn't Cinderella, is it?" She tried to laugh.

Gran shook her head. "Nay. Nary a fairy tale, Kathy. It is...time."

"For?" Kath pressed, but Gran smiled, maddening and mysterious.

"The next," she said. "Ye'll need to be gone. I'll make sure as ye do. Now tell me."

Kath tried to summarise upwards of fifteen years with as much brevity as she could, lingering on the recent time, on meeting Lady, on fighting, on Seeing. "And he's here, somewhere," she concluded, waving a hand around. "He's my mate. I'm not leaving without him."

Gran's eyes crinkled up. "Ye'r a dear friend, Kathy. Loyalty is important, am I right? Let's see. Blond young lad, ye said? Let's have a look. If he's nary truly dead, he should be easy to spot. The living – they glow." She laughed, and patted Kath's arm. Indeed, compared to her Gran's skin, Kath's had a dark, translucent sheen to it.

"Only the passing dead belong here," Gran whispered. "Now I've seen ye, I can go on, now I've rested."

Kath's heart tightened. "There's no way..." she began, but broke off, knowing the answer. Pointless to ask. It's been so long. She's gone...she's always been gone. I'm lucky, now, but this is a gift. Not a right. And I think I'm OK. I can do it. On my own.