by Hart, Alana
Ben felt the barrier falter under his hands. Once, twice it flickered out and then back into existence. Bear roared challenge and on that third flicker burst forward, shifting form on the fly and driving them into the dark space beneath the willow. They barely made three steps before they were nose to nose with Aria. Bear planted all four feet and put on the brakes hard. They skidded to a stop, breath heaving and on the verge of panic.
As the situation hit home, bear leaned in and snuffled Aria, checking her over from head to toe for anything out of place. She seemed alright, at least visually. But she smelled different. Other. Her unsettling scent made bear's nose tickle as though they'd gotten a big whiff of cinnamon.
Despite her new scent, she still smelled like mate, and home to bear. Didn't matter what had happened to her, as long as there was no danger and she was uninjured, bear would be happy. Ben wished he could view the world so simply, so black and white. But he knew something had happened to change Aria. And from the scents bear had picked up, that something was big. Hell, even just being close to her felt a bit like being too close to a high voltage line. She damn near thrummed with invisible power, power just begging to be unleashed. As Ben considered the implications of Aria having magical type powers bear rumbled in pleasure and slunk back into the recesses of his mind. His body ached as the shift overtook him once more, without warning. One day, he and bear were going to have to learn to work together, rather than bear appearing and disappearing at will like he had been. Ben desperately hoped that day came soon.
As the last aches and pains from shifting again faded, Ben stepped up to Aria and folded her in his arms. Holding her like this felt like trying to capture lightning, damn near literally. Every part of him from his head to his toes tingled and arced with an echo of the magic radiating off her. He did his damnedest to ignore the desire for her riding just behind that tingle, but it rose hard and fast anyways. He sighed softly then spoke.
"You alright?"
Ben tried his best to communicate all the layers that such a simple word as alright contained. He eased back a bit, his bear mourning the loss of her pressed close to him. But her answer was important. He had to know for sure that she was not going to suffer from whatever had happened in the moment's they'd been separated.
Her slow nod, and hooded eyes didn't reassure him at all. Bear grumped, not finding any hint of anything, no sense of truth or falsehood. Just blank space. Hell, Ben had been dreading repairing their relationship before when he'd had the advantage of bear's truth sensing ability. Now, he just hoped Aria was damn forgiving.
He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders, and looked deep into her eyes. Even if Bear's senses were on the fritz, Ben's were fine. But he couldn't catch any hint of what had transpired, what had changed her. He saw weariness, resignation, and power. Everything else lay hidden beneath those overwhelming emotions she wore for the world to see. He waited, with barely leashed patience for an answer.
"Maybe. I guess." She shrugged, and he let his hands slip off her shoulders. He smoothed them down her arms and clasped her hands in his to emphasize his words.
"I'm sorry. Sorry I wasn't there. Sorry I'm always a step behind when it comes to you." Ben’s throat tightened and he felt tears tickle the corners of his eyes. Damned if he was going to let them fall just now.
Her slow nod, and the answering squeeze she gave his hands was a start at least.
"Thank you." For a moment, the veil of weary resigned power lifted, and he spotted mischief and playfulness and love in her eyes. Then the curtain fell again. All that shone through was exhaustion and determination. Ben could not begin to fathom the load she bore, but he could damn near sense it like a physical presence.
"I need to talk to Gran," she said as she pulled him behind her. Bear huffed at being denied an answer to what lay secreted at the heart of the small clearing beneath the willow. Whatever it was, it was not nearly as strong as before the wards fell. But it still made his bear's 'trouble' sensors tingle, and the hairs rise on his spine.
Still, she was choosing to keep him with her. Choosing him for backup in whatever came next. Ben took that as a good sign. Bear just took it for granted. Of course she would choose them. They were mates after all. It's what mates did.
Something cool slipped past Ben's shoulder, cool and damp. And it wasn't the leaves of the willow. When he squinted he could almost see something–or someone–beside him. Bear rumbled agreement and confidence. Something was there, shoulder to shoulder with them, but Bear wasn't worried about who or why. Ben was torn between agreeing with bear, and investigating this new mystery. Before he could decide, Aria has pulled him back into the real world, the brightly lit, colorful world of Victoria's garden. When the tug on his hand stopped, he stood side by side with Aria, and only a few paces in front of Delilah and Victoria.
Bear insisted on a security scan, co-opting a good portion of their shared senses for a moment. There was nothing living within the walls of the garden other than the four of them. Bear could hear Faith giggling in the house. Ben grinned a bit at the sound of the cub giving his old man hell. Ole bugger deserved a dose of his own medicine, and she was just the one to dish it.
Then the full import of Bear's scan struck Ben at the same moment that cool presence solidified beside him. His skin shivered, almost like a horse dislodging flies, and his mind shied from what he saw. No fucking way was he standing next to a ghost, a ghost that once bore the name Gabriel Fox. How the hell had the old man stayed present all this time? Was it a guardian thing? Was Aria supposed to do the same when her time came? Oh, hell no. Ghosts were too fucking much after the week he'd had.
Come ghosts, hell or high water, he and bear were sticking to Aria like glue. This wander off into danger alone bullshit was getting tiresome.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Aria heard Gran gasp. She was so focused on figuring out just what the old ghost had done to her it didn't register just how hard this had to be for gran. Until she spoke.
"Gabe? Gabriel Ian-? What on earth-" Gran's words faded. Speechless, she reached for gramps ghost, attempted to fold him in a hug, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Aria paused when she noted Gran's hug slipped right through Gramps pale form. Odd. He'd felt solid enough beneath the willow. She couldn't help wondering what was different here in the garden. His grip had been surprisingly solid and warm just moments ago. And now, he was all mist and air from what she'd just seen. The question of why echoed through her brain.
Gramps voice however, was well tuned. That shiver inducing otherworldly echo was still present, but his voice didn't threaten to hammer her into oblivion or vibrate her very bones to splinters any more. Strange that one adjustment stuck, and the other-didn't.
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?
