Rose

Chapter 4

As we approached, the front door opened to reveal an elegant, elderly lady with long, white hair cascading down her back in waves. Her bright smile reached her eyes, causing wrinkles to deepen around them.

"Rose!" She held out her arms and pulled me in for a tight hug. She felt like home and smelled like roses. "Come in. Come in." She ushered us in through the front door into the first section of her house. The front wall was fully glazed, and we were surrounded by plants, all of which looked to be edible or medicinal. On one wall there was a water feature spilling out into a deep glass tank filled with fish. Wind chimes hung by the door, dancing and singing their tunes with each breeze. We walked through huge open double doors into a room that was clearly part of the building underground. Instead of feeling claustrophobic or cavernous, it had that nice in-between feeling that gave a homely and welcoming vibe. A large kitchen to one side had shelves stacked with jars and jars of different ingredients and herbs; grandmother obviously liked to cook. We sat down on the large, curved sofa, and were immediately engulfed in soft cushions. Declan scrambled to right himself as he sank back, and I couldn't help but chuckle at the almost panicked expression on his face. He nudged me, and I almost fell back myself. It was his turn to chuckle.

"What are you two doing?" Asked Willow, seeming seriously curious at our antics. She set four teacups on the table, and sat down without issue. I guessed she was used to the soft sofa.

"Nothing." I murmured and sneaked in an extra slap on Declan's leg. Grandmother joined us with the teapot on a tray, along with the milk, honey, and a plate full of biscuits.

She sat across from me, looking at me with a smile on her face. Willow set about pouring the tea for everyone, and I accepted it gratefully. The sweet and citrusy aroma hit me immediately, and I breathed it in deeply. "Rosehip and Lemon balm?" I queried.

"Good." My grandmother nodded, seemingly impressed.

I reached for the honey, and added some to my tea. I passed it on to Declan. "You'll want that." I suggested. He wasn't as keen on the various teas my mother brewed; much more of a coffee drinker himself. But I knew he'd drink it now so as not to be rude. I personally enjoyed the fruity flavour with the light, floral undertones of the rosehip, but the bitter aftertaste of the lemon balm wasn't my favourite. The honey helped. We sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying our tea.

"Willow says you're looking for Rose's mum and Wynne?" Declan's statement ended as more of a question as he put his tea down on the table. I guessed one sip was all he could manage. Grandmother looked at Willow.

"What I actually said was that you'd take care of everything." Willow clarified. She inspected the biscuits, and after finally picking the one she wanted, went back to drinking her tea.

"Well, what does that mean?" Asked Declan, a note of impatience in his voice.

"Declan, isn't it?" My grandmother asked. He nodded. "It is my understanding that the people who took your sister thought they were taking..." She turned to look at me. "...You, Rose."

"Me? What? Why?"

"You and your mother are very important people in our community, and it seems someone has had the audacity to think they can use you for their own gains." Disgust coated every word.

"But I'm nobody." I said faintly.

Willow gasped and my grandmother looked aghast. "You are not a nobody." She scolded. "You are my granddaughter and the personification of The Maiden Herself. Just as Iris is The Mother and I am The Crone." I had no idea what any of that meant, but it sounded important.

My grandmother got up from the sofa. "I can't believe your mother didn't tell you any of this. I told her no good would come from keeping you in the dark. Just because a person does not know something, does not mean they are protected from it." She sighed, exasperated. This sounded like an argument that had been repeated over the years and, knowing how stubborn my mum could be, I believed it. After all, that's where I got it from. Apparently, it was a multigenerational trait. She breathed deeply, seeming to get herself under control, and turned to me. "Did your mother tell you anything about this? Did she teach you anything of your heritage? Surely you've practised your skills?" She smiled encouragingly.