Bearly a Chance: A Second Chances Romance (18 page)

No matter. It was his actions, and his intent that mattered most, she supposed. Aria could feel the information he'd imparted to her weighing heavy in a corner of her mind. If she didn't know better, she'd say it was waiting impatiently for something to happen, rather like a little girl she knew. As Gramps words registered, that little corner of her mind jumped in anticipation of -something. Freedom, she'd guess, or maybe sheer joy of motion? But that didn't make sense if that little bundle was just information. No matter.

Aria suppressed tears as she watched Gramps press a ghostly kiss gently on Gran's forehead. Gran's eyes were closed, and her watery smile was bright. He must have made that kiss felt, from the way gran leaned into him. Hell that must be just about the hardest thing ever, facing the person you loved most, who you'd lost to the ravages of time in the here and now, only to be unable to touch? Aria didn't think she'd handle such a situation half as well as her gran.

"Let's go inside. Aria, you have much to study, and I have little time to teach." Gramp's familiar wry smile suggested that his comment was a wee bit understated. Aria wondered how much time was a little in ghost years. Without a word, she trailed after the group. Her hand still clamped tight around Ben's. Despite her anger, he'd been there through everything. The man was rock solid, except for the night he deserted her. But he'd made good inroads on making that up to her. Still had a ways to go making it up to Faith though, if he ever could. If she'd let him.

Aria glanced up to see Gran and Gramps enter the house side by side, just like old times. At least, if you could ignore the light streaming through Gramps ghostly form. Ben tugged her to a stop just outside the patio, then leaned in and whispered, low and soft, his breath hot and tickly against her ear.

"You don't have to do this. We could leave." The pressure of his hand on hers increased slightly, then eased.

It was sweet of him to offer, but about three years too late. Her path was set the day that test popped positive. No fucking
way
she was walking out on Faith, on Gran or Gramps. Hell, she'd be hard pressed to walk out on Arcos, and he was a right bastard from what she'd seen so far. A tough old bastard, but still. Family was family. Always.

Aria nodded once, and forced her eyes to meet his. The deep concern, and the hint of sliver flickering on the edges of his eyes was not nearly as reassuring as his tentative suggestion.

"I do, though." Aria nodded, and her stomach twisted once, before giving in to her mind's demands to settle down and get ready to work. She'd always worked well under pressure, but this time, well would not be enough based on the impression she'd gotten from Gramps. And since all she knew of being a guardian was that it involved wood and carving, she’d have to learn damn fast for sure.

After a single, lingering glance, Aria eased past Ben into the cabin. Her gaze searched the cabin for Gramps, and she stopped cold in the middle of the kitchen. She slapped her hand over her mouth, silencing the shriek that rose inside her. She reached back with her other hand and dragged Ben up to stand beside her. She could tell the moment the import of what they were watching hit him. His hand trembled like a leaf in her grasp, and she swore she could feel fur prickling her palm. But a sideways glance at him reassured her that he was-mostly-human in this moment. The silver sheen of his eyes gave away the struggle he was fighting once more.
Please don't shift.
Before she could whisper the words past her hand, she felt the shudders stop, and saw him straighten, watched him gather himself a tiny piece at a time until he stood tall and strong once more.

They both watched as Gramps ghost crouched nose to snout with Faith.
Arcos stood just to the side, watching with wary eyes and clenched fists. The grandfather Aria had grown up knowing wouldn't hurt a fly, much less a bear cub or a babe. But this version of gramps had already proven himself unpredictable. The sole thing stopping her from racing to jump between the pair as they faced off was the gentle, proud smile that lit gran's face. Delilah stood calm and loose not too far from Gran as everyone focused on this once in a lifetime meeting between Faith and her great grandpa. Faith's blue eyes swirled silvery for a second, and then she shifted smooth as silk. She stood, tiny hands on hips, nose to nose with what had to be a mysterious man from her perspective. Fearless. That was Faith.

Aria settled even further when Gramps turned his delighted grin on her. And his words put an end to the worry. "Yours?"

Aria nodded slowly. She could just barely see Ben echo her nod from the corner of her eye. Gramps grin grew even brighter, damn near lighting up the room. He looked as solid as anyone else present in that moment as he said, "She's perfect."

Based on the change in the tot's posture, she'd noticed and understood the nuances of the adult conversation happening before her. Her girl stood straight as can be, proud smile on her face. Chubby arms swung in a gentle rhythm as she watched everything with bright curious eyes. But Aria didn't think Faith knew just who was nose to grin with her. The girl dispelled that misconception with a single word. "Gwampa. Mine Gwampa." Then she ran on tiptoes into his arms and hugged him tight. From the looks of that solid pat and tight little-girl grip, Gramps was more real and solid than he'd been beneath the tree.
Interesting, wonder why? Faith? Or something more?

Gramps' grin was so impossibly bright, he glowed. Aria took a second, harder look, then rubbed her eyes.
I'm seeing things, for sure
. She squinted one eye, then the other. Yep, he really was glowing. Stronger with every moment. But why?

"My time runs short, Aria." Grandpa turned to face her full on. He held out his hands, in a universal gesture for a hug. Aria hesitated, then stepped into his embrace with a sigh. The light that was almost bright enough to have her seeing spots felt pleasantly warm where his arms rested on her shoulders.

As the glow flared bright, Aria was certain that time had halted. Eyes dazzled by light, ears deafened by momentary silence, Aria jumped when Gramps spoke again.

"Study my work." His incandescent hands flashed in a complex pattern, and for a moment Aria thought she caught a flash of steel in his hands. Then he froze, and the complex pattern hung suspended in midair. It was a ribbon of light and shadow, engraved into the fabric of the air itself with a sterling chisel. At a low growl from Gramps, the ribbon of light danced to the walls of the cabin. It flowed through the old engravings like water through a dry creek, fast and furious some places, slow trickles in others. As the light rolled forward in its wooden riverbed, Aria noticed that the channels the light left behind were changed somehow. Deeper, darker, she sensed the meaning hidden within the carvings had shifted at her grandfather’s will and command. When the light had spider webbed its way across all the walls of the ground floor of the cabin it began to fade.

Gramps spoke again. Low, and urgent. "Remember this pattern. Make it yours, and finish what I could not." Gramps pointed upstairs, then made a broad gesture that Aria figured was meant to suggest the entire town of Espen. “My existence hinges on your success, Aria. If you fail, we - the tree and I - will fade to nothing.” He reached out, and she felt a solid weight hit her palm with a thunk. She glanced down, only to see the silver tipped chisel in her hand melt into her palm, it didn’t hurt, but she could feel the weight of it even after the tool vanished from her sight. Aria wiggled her fingers experimentally, everything worked fine, but she still sensed the weight of the tool. Odd.

"And the town?" Delilah's question was curt, and drew Aria’s attention. The witch’s voice bordered on irreverent and disrespectful as far as Aria was concerned. Not that the question wasn't valid.

"The town is linked to the tree, as I am linked." Gramps voice faded just a bit slower than his ghostly form. That fading hovered just this side of completely invisible as he visibly fought to stay present.

What's so special about that tree?

Aria opened her mouth to ask, but Del beat her to the punch. Gramps shook as each word of the witches question hammered into him. Delilah was playing for keeps. Aria was torn between protecting her grandfather, and protecting the living, breathing people surrounding her.

His answer was not as helpful as she'd have hoped. "I don’t know. The guardian of Espen has always linked to the wards and the town through that tree. It's sacred somehow. Can't explain more."

Aria's heart sank as gran stepped forward. Her wide eyes were full of unshed tears, sorrow dammed for the moment. Gran’s arms trembled as she hugged gramps tight once more. One final goodbye, and it about killed Aria to see it.

She could see Gran’s lips move as she presumably whispered reassurances to gramps. The soft kiss he planted on her cheek in return was heart breaking. The world that tore these two souls apart was far from just or fair as far as Aria was concerned. The flash of insight that thought provided had her scrambling forward to deliver a quick peck on the cheek to her grandfather turned mentor.

"Count on me, I've got ya," she whispered. Then she darted up the stairs to the guest room that gran had assigned to her.

Gramp's hollow edged voice floated up the stairwell in her wake. She almost didn't hear it, she was so intent on putting her new powers in action.

But when his words finally registered, she shivered. "Guard the guardian child. Claim your mate to avert fate."

Why was her gramps echoing the warning of the gods?

She thought she'd gotten a handle on that warning, a head start on taking care of business before the implied danger loomed over them, trying to swallow them whole. She just wished what that danger was had been a tad more specific. Hard to prep for something you didn't know existed or couldn't understand.

Still, Aria wasn't going to fail for lack of trying. She could feel gramps finally lose the battle to stay present, felt him pop into invisibility. Some new internal sense trailed his spirit back, back to the willow tree. She could damn near see his spirit settling in for what felt like a long nap after a grueling workout.
I won't let you down, Gramps.

Aria reached out a hand to touch her fingertips to separate smooth grooves in the log walls of her bedroom. Light flared at the contact, and dancing magic motes surrounded her palm.

Footsteps thumped up the stairs after her, but she kept her focus. A minute part of her recognized that heavy tread as Ben's, and a crazy part laughed at the thought that she'd gotten so used to him following her around this past week that she could tell the sound of his strides apart from everyone else’s. Aria stole a moment from her incessant focus on pushing and pulling the existing wards, bending them to her will, to glance up and make sure Ben wasn't charging in looking for a damsel in distress to save.

When their eyes met, she was certain he wasn't looking for a damsel in distress. Still the worry in his look twisted her heart. She hated making anyone that stressed out, no matter what their past history was. But she needed the knowledge she could feel unfolding from that seed in her mind, needed it to work. Needed to understand it, not just feel it.

So she smiled softly at him, nodded once and pointed to the one place that did not have carvings-the bed-then resolutely pushed away images of things she'd like to be doing in favor of focusing on what was necessary in this moment. Then she placed her hands back, gently inspecting the grooves gramps had carved in the wall. She felt her eyes fly wide as she realized there were no tool marks. Nothing. The carvings were perfectly smooth, and she didn't see how he could have sanded them that well. Hmm, did the magic actually do the carving?

She could hear the springs of the bed creak as Ben settled in. She couldn't help but glance back, only to meet his quiet, confident gaze. He didn't look worried any more, just expectant.
Her hands tingled, then burned a bit, pulling her attention back to the task at hand. Silver flashed, and the otherworldly chisel appeared in her hand. She hesitated, then rested the tip against the wall.

She could feel the rest of the packet of knowledge in her mind expanding as she watched. Magic flared, then flowed through her. It poured in from the world around her, from the trees and the flowers and the wild animals in the garden. She could direct that magic with her will, and grandpa's chisel. The entire wall flared with light, just like the ones down stairs had. She could feel the magic sampling the scents of people in the cabin, feel the magic recognize the connections between her, Faith, Grandma Victoria, and even between the faint ghost of Gramps that lingered downstairs. The wards etched into the walls rearranged themselves, wove the connections of family into the fabric of their being then flared once more, and faded. But she had a nagging sense that something was missing. Not that she’d failed, but the wards didn’t feel complete, or hers.

Despite the extra shielding the wards had provided at her touch, she sensed that they still 'belonged' to her grandfather. It was his ghostly presence that had allowed her to adjust them. But they were keyed to him, and to gran. If she wanted to truly take grandfathers place as guardian, she was going to have to find her own house, and ward it.

She got the sense that the wards around the town were different. Those wards hovered just inside her senses, like movement barely seen via peripheral vision. They didn't have the light of personal wards. But they must have flared in time with the wards she'd just updated, since it was a fading spark of magic inside them that had drawn her attention to them. She'd have to go closer to look, but her instinct, and the bare bones knowledge gramps had dumped on her suggested that they were alright. For now. But the magic still felt wrong to her. And her head hurt something fierce. Maybe she got to pay a different price for this borrowed magic than he ever had. Only one way to find out.