Protected by Stone (A Paranormal Romance Novel) (24 page)

Wiping away hot tears, I stared back at the photos. Digging through them showed me some glimpses of a Tessa who was not so happy. I found a scrap of newspaper, an obituary for her father. Doing the math, I realized she was only twelve when he'd died.
Heart attack. How awful!

I knew what it was like to lose a parent that young. I was too painfully familiar.
At least she still had her mother for awhile.

My mind was in a morose place when I saw the glimmer of orange. Sitting up, I leaned sideways. “Vibbs? Is that you?”

The tiny revenant floated into the study. “Farra,” he said sadly, “it's so dark everywhere.”

“I know.” I motioned him closer to me. “Here, come by the lantern. I'm sorry about the lights.”

“It's never been so dark for so long,” he whispered. The way he spoke, I could sense the fear wafting from him.

I didn't know what to do. On reflex, I tried to curl my arm around him. Amazingly, he snuggled against my shoulder like a kitten. “Vibbs, it will be okay.”

“I hate the dark,” he said quietly. “The dark is bad, it's scary and awful and bad.”

“You mean that, don't you?” I asked, sliding the lantern closer. “You're really scared?”

Vibbs shook, vibrating against me. “The dark does bad things, brings bad things. Scary stuff that's dangerous.”

“No no,” I said soothingly. “The dark can't hurt you.”

“It can,” he insisted, “it scares me, it can hurt me. Scary things are dangerous.”

Glancing around, I tried to find something to say. How did I comfort something like a revenant? “Everyone is scared of things, but... I mean, being scared isn't dangerous.”

He shifted, looking up at me. “What are you scared of, Farra?”

Laughing gently, I gave him a half-smile. “A lot of things. My big fear is of tiny places.”

“Tiny places?”

“Yeah,” I said, “I hate tight passages, I always get sweaty and nervous inside them.”

Vibbs was listening closely. “I like small places. They aren't dangerous.”

My grin was indulgent. “No? That's funny, I just get really scared inside of them.”

“Why?”

It was a simple question. I debated giving the complicated answer. “It's not a nice story.”

He felt warm against my skin. “I'll listen anyway.”

“You will?” I asked, fighting down my growing unease. It was easier when someone was so fragile feeling, so much more afraid than me. “Alright. If it's too awful, just stop me.” He said nothing, so I took a slow breath. “When I was very little, my parents took us on a drive. It was supposed to be a quick trip, we were going to... to the aquarium,” I said, astounded I recalled that detail. “That's right. I wanted to see the jellyfish.”

I'd forgotten that.

“Go on,” he prompted me.

Telling the story was making my heart pump faster. “My dad looked away for a minute, and when he did, we went off the road. The car flipped...” I paused, shutting my eyes. “Three times. Maybe four. When it was done, I was trapped, crushed inside this tiny corner of the car. I couldn't get out, I was just—”

Vibbs snuggled me, his soft glow bringing me back from my dark thoughts. There was sweat coating my palms, I rubbed it on my pants. “Sorry,” I whispered. “That's the reason, though. Small places and me don't mix.”

“What happened to your parents?” he asked, sounding as caught up as me.

I brushed my hair back. “Dead.” The word stuck on my tongue, sour. “They died.”

“That feels... familiar,” he mumbled.

I sat up, blinking down at him. “What?”

“It reminded me of—of something. Something I think I'd forgotten.” His cryptic words sent a shiver into my bones. It stayed there as he kept talking, almost to himself. “I was little... no. Bigger than I am now, but little.”

What is he saying?

Vibbs, too, looked like he was figuring it out as he went. “Yeah. My parents and I, we were playing hide and seek. I wanted to win, I really did,” he said, his voice rising with ardent wonder. “I found the best spot. I hid in the trunk of the old garbage dump beater. It hadn't moved in years.”

I swallowed, but my saliva had vanished.

“That... that was a good spot,” he said to himself. “Yeah. They never found me.” His body, a thing that had been warm before, now grew hot enough to scald.

I leaned back, but I felt entranced. Before my eyes, the revenant I'd known as Vibbs began to change. I caught a flicker of a human face, a childish smile and rosy cheeks. It wasn't how I'd seen him, but right then, it made the most sense. That was how he always should have looked.

He smiled at me, but the light became too bright. Shielding my eyes, I heard him speak once more. It was a happy tone, gentle as a kiss. “I remember, now. That was why I was always so scared. I'm not now, I'm not scared anymore. Thank you, Farra. Thanks.”

My eyelids still saw dots of white, but when I grabbed for him, stared at the place he'd been snuggling my shoulder, Vibbs was gone.

My ears were ringing, muting the sound of my breathing. I'd witnessed something that was astounding, and I knew it. Something magical and splendid.

So why was I so sad?

Looking up, I found Qui'nxious staring at me in his silent fashion. Speaking felt strange, as if I were ruining the moment. “He's gone,” I said hoarsely.

“Yes,” he nodded, “he is.”

“Why?” Scrubbing my cheeks, erasing the lines of tears, I tried to calm down. “Why, where did he go? What just happened?”

“You helped him remember why he was hanging on.” Moving closer, the bird-thing cast no shadow. It was the first time I'd noticed. “You helped him remember his meaning. Vibbs was a memory of someone else. Now, nothing remains.”

“Hanging on,” I repeated. There was no satisfaction in my smile. “I was right all along, you guys
are
ghosts.”

“Memories.”

“
Ghosts
.”

Qui'nxious wiggled his fingers by his head. “Perhaps 'ghosts' is a fair term. Revenants are shed from the magic of the person who came before. They're a fragment, existing for their own forgotten purpose.”

Forgotten purpose... so Vibbs was a child with magic, forgotten in darkness. He must have buried that memory deep, too scared to move on past it.
I thought I understood, my attention focusing intently on the black-thing in front of me. “Then, whose memory are you? Why are
you
here?”

He didn't shrug, but he might as well have. “A mystery to even me. A revenant can't remember. When they do, they finally move on.”

“So all the guests here, they're magical shadows of people? Of humans like me?”

“All things that have magic can become a revenant, yes,” he said. “They cannot cross safely through either world, living or dead. They're... outcasts. Yes.”

“Outcasts,” I whispered.

Qui'nxious gestured over my head. Turning, I knew he was pointing at the painting. “We are cursed to wander the world, never settling, often fading without peace. Tessa helped make a place for us. She welcomed us here, this little nest of magic. Here, the revenants have come, able to take their time to remember why they exist... if they so choose.”

Looking at the lantern, I touched it protectively. “Are you really sure that, if this leaves here, the magic will vanish?”

“It will certainly vanish, yes,” he said flatly. “But... I am not sure what that will actually mean, in the end.”

Blinking slowly, I considered things carefully. “Let me ask you something. You said Tessa made it safe here, but you said before that you were here before she changed this place, right?”

He froze like a statue. “That is—yes, I was here before then.”

“How were you here, if you're telling me that things will change if the lantern leaves?”

The revenant was twisting in place, more unsettled than I'd seen him. “Stop. I'm not ready to remember, not yet.”

“Sorry,” I said, crinkling my nose. “I wasn't trying to do anything, I didn't mean to do it for Vibbs, either. I just... I just want some answers.”

“Revenants have always existed,” he said slowly. “And they will continue to. Yes, you're right, this place draws them in naturally. That was true before Tessa.” He paused a long moment. “Her mother started it, she called to them long before Tessa. The magic of your family's blood has always been special.”

“Except for me,” I said, rolling my eyes.

His beak glinted like ink, turning when he stared at the painting again. “I'm not so sure, Farra Blooms. Your reign has been different, yes, but to say it hasn't had some magic... well.”

My veins pumped, his words battling my self doubt. “Tell me what to do. You know so much, what's the right decision here? Do I stay, try to protect the lantern? Do I give it to the sylph?”

Qui'nxious wandered towards me. Wordless, I stood from the desk, meeting him in the middle of the room. Holding the lantern between us, I watched him as he touched the light with his stubby blue fingers. “What is most important to you, Farra Blooms?”

“Most... important?”

Lifting his serpent-arms, he brushed silky palms on my forehead. It was a sweet gesture, my heart swelling. “Will you keep your protector safe, or yourself?”

“How am I in danger?” I asked. “The sylph wants the lantern, not me. I figured that part out.”

His hands floated away from me. “Things cannot stay as they are. If you keep the lantern from the sylph, the snow will not stop.”

As if he'd called the blizzard into the study, the back of my neck felt cold. “What?”

“The sylph is powerful, it has grown terrible in its hunger, become insane. Yes. The whole region will drown in snow. Without the sun, Grault will grow weak, then fade. It will become a death sentence for many.”

Clutching the lantern, I drew warmth from it. “No! Grault, all those people... was it because I took the lantern outside? Is this my fault?” He said nothing to counter me, my voice rising in my hysteria. “Did no one know? No one but Tessa, and... and you, that this lantern was so special?”

“I knew it was special, yes,” he said quietly. “I always knew. I promised to never say more. Why Tessa did not warn you, child? I hazard to think she only kept the sylph at bay by accident born through fear of never going near it again. She might not have known it was worth warning over.”

“Qui'nxious,” I said, “you're telling me there
is
no right answer. Grault becomes stone with nothing to protect, or he dies anyway, while the town and everyone suffers because I hung onto this thing?”

Stepping backwards, he moved in reverse. “I didn't say there was no right answer. I only told you the outcomes I could see. Farra Blooms, what you do is up to you. Your decisions have always been your own... I imagine they will remain so. Yes.”

“Wait!” I shouted, but he didn't slow his exit. It was easy for him to vanish into the hallway.

Holding the lantern tight, I stared around me in a wide circle. Ultimately, I ended up gazing at the large painting of Tessa and Bizzy. “What am I supposed to do?”

There was no one to tell me. I knew that, more so as time wore on. “Tessa,” I asked the picture, “why did you think it was wise to leave me with all of this? You picked the wrong person. I don't have magic or spells, anyone else would have been better. I'm not like you, I never—I never was.”

I'm no more use than a memory of you, Tessa. I'm a ghost in my own right, another revenant in this house.

With only silence at my back, I turned and left that room of books behind.

––––––––

I
watched the snow rising with mounting defeat. It would soon be impossible to leave the house at all. The place had become a mess, reminding me of how I'd once lived at my old apartment.

Grault hadn't spoken to me in two days. The revenants had vanished, making me suspect they'd left for whatever 'other world' they knew of. It was depressing, thinking that they found a place where they were outcasts to be more welcoming than Tessa's house.

My house, it's my house,
I reminded myself scathingly.
Everything is falling apart.
Sitting in my room, I stared out the window blankly. It was all white, the beautiful snow becoming something terrible to behold.

I saw a shadow roll across the ice. The bat-wings told me it was Grault.
He must be patrolling outside, making sure the sylph doesn't come back. He can't keep that up forever... none of this can stay this way.

Folding my arms, I fought down the urge to go talk to him. We hadn't spoken since the kitchen incident. It was so hard, I ached to be near him, to just get some confirmation that he hadn't been luring me in for his own benefit.

I wasn't great at letting things rest.

Pushing away from my window, I crept towards the stairs into Grault's room. I'd figured out why I had never seen him use that attic entrance before. The giant window was his door, it was easy to fly in and out from there as he pleased.

“Grault?” I called softly, tugging the stairs down. Inching up, I poked my head over the ledge. “Are you up here?”

He perched by the window, dusting snow off of his hair. Hard muscles gleamed like white ice. I knew he must have just come back inside, his wings were still showing.

He truly doesn't feel the cold.

One of his ears twitched, eyes jumping to me in a blink. “Farra,” he said, brows knotting. His horns, every hint that he was a gargoyle, shrank away. “I didn't expect you—I didn't think you'd come see me.”

“I need to talk to you.”
I wanted to see you,
I thought privately. Climbing up, my legs carried me warily over to him. They were tight, fighting the urge to launch me at the man I'd been so enamored with.

Am I still?
He made my heart ripple, my tongue swollen. How could I pretend anything was different?

Shifting, he grabbed his coat from a wall hook, sliding it on. I hated seeing him hide away his perfect torso. “About what?”

“About... all of this,” I said, gesturing at the circular window. “This snow, the house, I need to ask you what you think should be done.”

His response was fast, he clearly thought it was obvious. “We stay here, the lantern stays.”