Guardian's Grace

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  “You see it now, don’t you?” The gazebo disappeared. “I can cover quite a large area. Of course, I have had many years of practice and the power increases with age. When I was your age, I thought it a great accomplishment to make a rosebush appear to bloom.” She laughed at her own folly. “I admit this to you so you will understand that your own powers are just beginning and you have much to learn.”

  “But I don’t have three hundred years to practice,” Grace replied with a laugh of her own.

  “But of course, you will have those years and more. Do close your mouth, ma petite, there are no flies here to catch. You must know by now that you are not human. Have you not listened during supper and after?”

  Sure, she’d listened, but hearing was one thing and believing another. “I’ve been to doctors, more than I care to think about. Surely someone would have noticed something not quite human about me,” she said with a tinge of sarcasm.

  Manon’s laugh trilled through the darkness. “We are not of the Race, thank God. We have no fangs to protrude, no face to turn to stone, no strength beyond the norm. We stem from the same tree as our human sisters, but we have been blessed or cursed with more. Come back to the fire. We will finish our wine and I will tell you the tale as it is told among our kind.”

  Manon began as soon as they were seated and the wine was poured. “When humanity was in its childhood, God sent a sect of his servants, angels some say, to instruct those humans in righteousness. According to our beliefs, the servants became fascinated by the beauty and comeliness of the Daughters of Man. This fascination soon turned to lust. In order to lure the women away from their families, the Servants gave the Daughters gifts of abilities beyond the realm of man. The women were beguiled by these gifts, seduced by the Servants who appeared as men and were taken as wives. In the fullness of time the Daughters bore the fruits of their seduction. Their sons were called Nephilim. They were giants of great power and glory, renowned for their great appetites for all things of pleasure and the traits of the fathers were passed to the sons.

  “So it was for the women also, their gifts being passed from mother to daughter so that the lineage of the mix of Servant and human continued and the Daughters of Man became a race unto themselves.

  “Time passed and the Nephilim lost their way. They abused their power, took pleasure in pain and torment and began to feed on the blood of humans. The Daughters who loved them and had been faithful to them were forsaken. God sent Gabriel to make war upon them and the Great Flood reduced them further.

  “Under threat of annihilation, the Paenitentia were born. They saw the Daughters of Man as the source of their downfall and renounced them, severing all ties.

  “The Daughters of Man quietly continued, suffering the indignities of persecution, making their way as best they could, passing the gifts and knowledge down from one generation to the next, Daughter to Daughter. They no longer bore sons.

  “They were forced to live the lives of humans in the human world and learned to adapt to maintain their anonymity. As we do today. We are their descendants.” Manon pointed to Grace and then to herself. “We are among the Daughters of Man.”

  *****

  The triangle was set with a pentacle at each corner and the mirror propped in the center. Black candles sat at each five pointed star and awaited her match.

  Andi knew what she was doing. She’d watched that old bitch –oops, witch – do it enough times. She’d watched, yeah, but she’d never been invited into the circle. Thirteen was all her mother would allow. No room for the kid. But she’d watched through the crack in the door of the closet where her mother locked her up during ‘meetings’ until she was old enough to get lost for the evening. The old bat must have thought she was deaf as well as stupid.

  “When you’re older,” her mother would say, “I’ll teach you all you need to know. My lady friends and I don’t need a stupid kid hanging around interrupting our discussion group.”

  That’s what her mother called it. Andi never saw much being discussed. The ritual was pretty set. And once the old bags stripped off their robes and started prancing around naked as jay birds, the party was just about over.

  Her mother never kept her promise. The number 317 Downtown bus put a stop to that when it didn’t stop in time to miss her drunken mother, but Andi already knew enough and the upside to the bus accident was that she inherited this shitty house and all her mother’s crap. That’s pretty much how she’d thought about it until Abyar…

  The altar was set the way she remembered. Two black side candles and a center one in purple for power, a chalice for the water and a carved wooden bowl for the salt, all of which sat on a low table covered in red silk. She liked the blood red crystal best though she thought it might be a fake.

  All that was left was to light the candles, set the circle and say the words. The Ouija board sat waiting for her in the center. She couldn’t work without it.

  *****

  “So,” said Manon as she buttered the last slice of toast. “As soon as the breakfast is cleared we will begin on your training. You will learn easily and the control of your ‘buzz’ will come quickly. There are other things, however, that we must talk about.”

  Grace settled in to listen. Manon had been more than generous with her time and teaching and the last few days had flown by. There was time for other things as well, reminiscing about the past for Manon and speculating about the future for Grace. Before, the future meant hiding away from people and staying sane. Manon had opened the door to the possibility of happiness and freedom.

  “Right now, the psychic energy you feel is like a battering ram against the gates of your mind. I can teach you the meditation techniques and methods to cushion the assault, but I cannot teach you to gather that energy to you, unless you are fully opened to it. There are three things you must fulfill for your gifts to be fully realized. After hearing about your early life, I consider it a testament to your inner strength that you are able to embrace any of these things.

  “About two of these I have no worries. You have the first, an open mind. See how easily you have accepted all of this.” She spread her arms wide. “You are so willing to learn. The second is an open heart. I see the love in your eyes and hear it in your voice when you speak of Alice or the twins and my Otto. You helped him when others could not, when you had every reason to fear him. You brought him back to me. Your heart is not only open, it is very large.

  “It is the third that gives me concern. It is a private matter and I do not know if we are well enough acquainted for me to speak, but who will say it if I do not.”

  Manon began clearing the dishes from the table. Grace jumped up to help, waiting for Manon to continue. When the butter and milk were put away and the floor swept, Grace put her hand on the older woman’s shoulder and broke the silence.

  “Manon, you’ve shown me nothing but patience and understanding. I’ve told you things I’ve never told another living soul and you’ve told me things about myself that no one else could. There are no private matters here. Tell me what I need to know.”

  Manon sat back down at the table and folded her hands. “Your mind and heart are open but your body is not.”

  Grace started to sit. “My body is…” As Manon’s meaning became clear, she felt the heat rise to her face and she sat with a thump. “Are we talking sex here? Are you saying that because I’m a virgin my body is closed?”

  Manon shrugged and gave a single nod.

  “So I should have slept with that weasely dweeb just to get it over with.” She shivered at the thought. “Eeuw.”

  Manon knew the story and laughed. “I would not want you to be bedded by Monsieur Dweeb.” She winked at Grace and then became serious again. “I do not say this as criticism, only as fact. Do not forget that in the past, girls were mated soon after the first signs of maturity. Times have changed. Our bodies have not.”

  “Then some of my lessons are going to have to wait because I don’t see a change in
my sexual status coming in the near future,” said Grace with a sigh.

  “That is not true. You have seen it. I do not like it, but you have seen it in your vision and so it will be.”

  “You mean Canaan?” Grace shook her head. Canaan didn’t want her. That was clear to her as soon as he’d left her after the attack and clearer still when she’d finally remembered the reason for her flight. “That’s not likely.”

  “Your visions are tied to your fate and the fate of those you love. Fate and your visions have brought you to him. It is meant to be.”

  The tears spilled over. As much as she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t grieve for something she’d never really had, Grace’s heart was broken and she knew that without Canaan it could never be repaired.

  “He doesn’t want me,” she sniffed..

  “Bah!” Manon’s vehemence startled Grace. “He does not know what he wants. He is so steeped in his pride and tradition that it has befuddled his brain. He is a fool.” She spat the last.

  In spite of her pain, Grace felt compelled to defend him. “He’s not a fool. He’s proud of what he does, of who he is and he has broken with tradition. You keep saying that I brought Otto back to you, but it was Canaan breaking with tradition that kept Uncle Otto alive. He broke with it again when he allowed me to live in the House.”

  “Then make him break with tradition once more. Otto says that Canaan loves you. Make Canaan fulfill your vision. It will serve him right.”

  Chapter 20

  Canaan sat in his usual chair in the kitchen drinking coffee that just didn’t taste right. He looked into the mug, wrinkled his nose and muttered an oath. He’d cleaned the coffee maker yesterday, run vinegar through it and rinsed it well the way she claimed was the best way to do it. He’d measured the grounds just like she did and made sure he started with cold water just like she did and it still just didn’t taste right.

  He looked around at the spotless counters and gleaming stainless steel. Everything was just as she left it, but the kitchen was too damn quiet. There was no comforting clatter of breakfast being made, no music from her radio, and no soft, tinkling laughter from the hall. Dov would not come in and sweep her off her feet to dance her around the kitchen because she had made pancakes. The smell of lemon wax and flowers was slowly fading. She’d only been gone a few weeks and he missed her beyond all reason. He got up and poured his coffee into the sink.

  *****

  “Are you ready?” asked Manon. They were back in the chairs by the fire. Otto had loaded her bag in the car and taken himself off for a walk to give the two women this last bit of privacy.

  No, Grace wasn’t ready, but she was going to do it anyway because she had to know. Manon had finally explained about her other gift, the reason she rarely touched people skin to skin.

  With the contact, she could see into the past, link with people’s memories and with the right concentration, relay everything back into the subject’s consciousness to run like a movie in their mind. The one memory Grace wanted most was of her mother. Why had the woman abandoned her? Now she was afraid of what she would see.

  “Let’s do it,” she said and held out her hands to Manon and closed her eyes.

  “Think back,” Manon whispered as she took Grace’s hands in a warm, firm grasp, “Think of the dark haired woman and the green chair.”

  Flashes of color and motion blurred through Grace’s mind and with a jolt, stopped.

  She was in a room. Dirty chipped plaster and peeling paint covered the walls and broken boards covered the window. The floor was littered with paper and in the corner a dark haired woman rocked in a green chair.

  The woman rocked back and forth, back and forth, so quickly that her head was always a fraction of a second behind her body. She’d been there for hours, fighting the voices in her head, trapped in the little room she pretended was home. She jumped to her feet and started to pace around the room, shuffling her feet and speaking her thoughts aloud. The pacing didn’t help. The voices in her head just wouldn’t stop. She slammed her fists into the sides of her head. She clawed at the sagging neck of her once yellow dress, ripping at the safety pin that held it closed. She couldn’t breathe. She needed something to make it go away, but there was no more money coming in to pay for what she needed. She scratched at the tracks on her arms. At first she’d taken only pills and that had been enough to push the voices down, but the voices got louder and the pills didn’t work and now even the stuff she pushed into her vein couldn’t make the voices shut up.

  Once, on Sixth Street she’d attacked a man for sending his vicious and vile voice into her head. He wore a suit with a white shirt and tie and he carried a fancy briefcase, but she’d known the minute he looked at her little girl that the voice was his. Even when she’d screamed at him and clawed at his face, he didn’t want anyone to call the police. He knew what she was screaming was true. He wanted to hurt her little girl. He said he felt sorry for her and didn’t want any trouble but she heard him in her head and he was afraid that someone might listen to her.

  Her nose began to bleed and she knew that time was running short. Her ears would be next. She’d made her plans weeks ago and now it was time.

  She went to the pallet that she used as a bed and rummaged in the filthy covers muttering the whole time. She found the child, only drowsy not asleep, at the foot of the pallet and wrapped it in the cleanest of the dirty blankets.

  It was six blocks to St. Stephen’s and the child seemed to grow heavier with each step, but this was the last time she would get to hold her and she wanted to make it last. She whispered loving words when the voices would allow it and then they were at the church. Like the ghost she was soon to be, she glided up the steps and opened the heavy doors. She made the sign of the cross for herself and the child with the holy water by the door and crept up the center aisle to the foremost pew, genuflected and settled the child down to sleep with a kiss to her head.

  “Sleep now, baby. Everything will be all right. Mama’s got to go away and find some peace. You stay right here and sleep.”

  Like flipping the switch on a television set, the screen went blank.

  “I know what happened next.” Grace’s voice was so low that Manon had to strain to hear it. “In the early hours of the morning a priest found me asleep on the pew. There was a note pinned to my shirt that said ‘My name is Grace. Take care of me.’” She looked sadly at Manon and tried to control her quivering chin.. “My mother was like me, wasn’t she? She was a Daughter of Man and it drove her mad.”

  “Oui.” Manon pulled Grace into her arms and held her close. “She loved you, ma petite, she loved you and she saved you and now you are here with us.”

  “Manon, how many do you think there are out there? Like me, I mean, not knowing what they are and feeling like insanity is right around the corner.”

  “More than a few, I imagine.”

  Grace returned Manon’s hug. “Then I’m one of the lucky ones, the truly blessed. You taught me to see it and feel it and for that I am ever in your debt.”

  Manon gently pushed her away and held her at arms length, lightly gripping her shoulders. “Go now, ma petite, your Uncle Otto grows impatient to be gone. He has some mysterious plan afoot and is like a little boy eager to begin. Do not be a stranger. I have finally learned to cook and I need friends to sample my efforts.” She smiled and gave Grace a little shove toward the Escalade. “The world is open to you now, Grace. Live the life that you choose and live it well.”

  *****

  Andi cinched the sash of her black robe tighter, twenty pounds tighter to be exact. Abyar had told her how to do it, what to buy and the words to say. It was so simple that she thought, at first, it was a lie. But here she was twenty down and twenty to go. It was part of the bargain they’d struck and he had held up his end. Now she had to hold up hers.

  The room was still set for the ceremony, the circle with its attendant pentacles at the four corners and the larger center pentagram
now permanently drawn on the floor. She didn’t bother to put the altar away or cover it anymore. There was no need. She never had visitors and no longer wanted television to keep her company, not when she had her board and Abyar. Her living room had become her temple and Abyar had become her… What? She wasn’t sure.

  She still kept him confined in the triangle she had set in salt to the east of her circle while she remained protected within. That was only prudent, but she was ready to take the next step and allow him into the circle with her. He had taught her so much already and promised to show her more.

  Andi was greedy. She knew that and it didn’t bother her a bit. She deserved the things that everyone else had. No, she deserved more than everyone else had, to make up for all the years she’d had nothing. Abyar had given her something that no one else ever would; not her mother with her secret coven, not her boss who gave her job to Cynthia and certainly not any of her coworkers. Abyar had given her his trust. He trusted her with his most precious possession; his name.

  With his name, she could summon and dismiss him at will. She could command him to do her bidding. With that knowledge came temptation, but she put it aside. She bargained with him, to be sure, but that was fair, give and take, and she suspected he respected her because of it. She wanted more than a slave demon. She wanted more than his trust and respect. Andi wanted a friend.

  After the altar was prepared and the candles lit, she cast her circle as Abyar had told her, walking widdershins three times around it. She called to the four corners using the words that he had taught her ending with:

  “Hail to the beings of the center! Those who dwell in the depths! I summon you, Abyar Adoriedes Mendeliadum, and call you forth!”

  The response was instant as Abyar stepped from the mirror. “My dear Andi, you are a marvel. I’ve known many a mage in my time and none were as adept as you. And look at your new figure! Lovely, simply lovely. How much more do you want to lose? Not too much more I hope. I do like a woman with luscious curves.” He winked at her.