Ascension (The Gryphon Series) (18 page)

Chapter 22

Deep within the fantastical exterior of the Spirit Plane beat a heart of structured normalcy. I called him Dad.

Big Mike rapped gently on the
six-panel, mahogany door before grasping the polished brass knob and pushing it open. I whistled through my teeth as I followed him inside and gazed upon my father’s lush office.

Dad
, seated behind a richly ornate desk, glanced up from the weathered pages of an ancient looking text and rose from his leather wingback chair to greet us. “Thank you, Michael. I believe Terin is in the Hall of Magi. Would you please ask her to join you in escorting my daughter home? I’d feel better with the added protection.” 

Big Mike dipped his head in a brief bow
then backed from the room and pulled the door shut behind him. As he exited, I took a moment to consider the man before me. Dad kept his hair shorter now, almost buzzed to his scalp. That, combined with the scar across his face, gave him a harder edge. As he rounded the side of his desk I noticed his long navy blue robe brushed the tops of polished black loafers. I missed his old, scuffed up tennis shoes—among other things.

He
raised his hands in the subtle suggestion of a hug, but not enough to push the matter. The little girl in me coaxed one foot forward. She wanted nothing more than to sprint across the room and dive into his arms. To nuzzle into his chest and breathe in his scent as he reassured her that everything would be all right. It fell to my inner warrior to hold her at bay. The pain of his funeral was too fresh, as were the deaths of Sophia and Alec. All that misery … and
he
had set it into motion. 

The Council Master
cleared his throat and dropped his arms to his sides. “There are crucial elements in play back home, Celeste. What brings you here?”

Standing
in front of him, the magnitude of my mixed emotions made basic articulation tricky. I stalled for time by wandering the length of his wall of bookshelves, pretending to peruse the countless book spines in every script imaginable.

“Oh, you know, the library at home has such a limited selection. I thought I’d pop in for a little light reading about
…” I slid a random book from the shelf, “…
Enchanted and Cursed Artifacts
. I hear HBO is making a series of that.”

I
heard a rush of air and glanced up to find my father directly in front of me. He took the heavy text from my hand and replaced it on the shelf. “Don’t be glib. There isn’t time for it. I understand why you don’t trust me and I own my blame in that. However,
you
sought
me
out. I’m not an empathe nor a mind reader. If you would like my help I’m going to need you to say the actual words.”

“Death made you cranky
,” I muttered under my breath.

My dad raised his eyebrows
in expectation. When I still couldn’t force the words out, he turned on the heel of one fancy-shmancy shoe and strode back to his desk.

Removing the pressure of his stare loosened my stuck words
. “All of Gainesboro is under attack. People are relying on me to lead them and keep everyone safe, but the Countess has an entire army. Power
emanates
off her. The truth is there’s only one way I see this ending and it comes with a grim body count.”

The Council Master
’s chair squeaked as he settled in to it. “By now I’m sure you’ve drawn your own conclusions as to why I picked you to be the Conduit?”

I ground my teeth together in annoyance at his topic diversion tactic a
nd flopped down in the green upholstered chair across from him. “The general consensus was it had something to do with strength. I didn’t buy into the hype.”

Dad leaned back in his chair.
His head cocked slightly as he considered me. “Very true. And sometimes being strong means letting go when you want to hold on tighter.”

“So … what? You’re suggesting I give up? Run away? Let the entire town die?” As my irritation grew it dialed the octaves of my voice up a few notches.

“I’m suggesting no such thing,” Dad corrected calmly as he ran his index finger across the bottom edge of his scar. “I’m simply saying the bravest person in battle isn’t always on the front line.”

“Did a list of cryptic quotes come with that robe or did you have to buy them separate?”

Instead of doing something
really
crazy, like giving a straight answer to
anything
, he leaned forward and busied himself rifling through his desk drawers. “Did you know that every talent we are given is considered a gift? One that we are given with the sole purpose of giving away.”

A
memory pinged in the dark hallway of my mind.
Give it away.
“I’ve heard that before.”

“
Yes, you have,” he stated without glancing up from his suddenly urgent task. “I pulled you from your body once and brought you to the Gateway long enough to share that message with you. Yet you obviously still haven’t been able to deduce the meaning, because here we are.”

“I’m having a hard time deducing the meaning to
any
of this.” I ran my hands vigorously over my face to thwart off the headache that loomed. “Any minute now I’m expecting you to warn me of the
Jabberwocky
.”

“
Ah! Maybe this will clear things up.” Out of the bottom drawer he pulled a mosaic ball of clear glass held together by some sort of glittering blue bonding.

I stared from the ball to Dad and back again. “Surprisingly, the paperweight poses more questions than answers.”

“You don’t recognize it?” Light reflected off the office wall as he turned the ball one way then the other under his desk lamp. “I suppose it did look somewhat different before you shattered it in the Gateway.”

“The dis
cus? Wow, great … glue job.”
Hanging with my dead dad and these are the conversational pearls I’m tossing out.

He
reached over his desk, caught my hand, and plopped the ball onto my waiting palm. “Go back to where it all began and you’ll know what to do.”

“How do I
—” I didn’t have time to finish that sentence. Unlike before, focus and concentration weren’t mandatory for this trip. It seemed to have a predetermined destination. The glass flickered to life with familiar scenes that held a tragic nostalgic value for me. I had seen all of this before—but never from a first-“person” perspective.

A burst of feathers. Men crumbling to the ground. The roar of a lion, followed by another, and another.
My deafening screech pierced through the night. Soldiers and villagers alike froze as a I flew over the burning town and landed in the heart of the battle.

The ball slipped from my fingers and landed on my father’s desk with a soft thu
d. Fear tightened my chest as an icy understanding shuddered through me. “I … have to go.”

“What did you see, Celeste?” For a moment my father
, my
real
father, made an appearance. Concern creased his brow as his hand slid over his desk in search of mine. “I saw nothing.”

“There’s no time. I have to go
,” I mumbled as I stood and forced my feet in the direction of the door. “I’ll … see you soon.”

“Cee-Cee
, wait!”

Numb from shock, I paused
at the door and glanced back over my shoulder.

“
I love you.
Please
be careful.” The gold flecks in his eyes brightened with the tears he blinked back.

All I could manage was a
weak nod before I fumbled out the door where Big Mike and Terin waited to escort me to my destiny. 

Chapter 23

“Does everyone understand the plan?” I scanned the group before me without letting my gaze linger too long on any of them.

             
Kendall scooted closer to Grams. Her hands trembled as they closed around Gram’s in a white knuckled grasp. “I don’t know, Cee. It seems really risky. Are you sure you can control it?”

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, bumping elbows with
Terin and Big Mike in the process. “The Gryphon hasn’t let me down before, he won’t start now.”  

Gabe ran his hand over his freshly buzzed h
ead. “The Countess won’t be able to resist making an appearance, that’s for sure. I just hope you can maintain it. If not, it’ll be a bloodbath of such epic proportions it’ll make the history books.”

From the
far corner of the living room a member of the Glee Club whimpered.

“This is it, isn’t it?” Grams wrapped an arm around a visibly quaking Keni. “What you’ve all been preparing for and trying to prevent?”

“It is.” I took a beat to collect myself then declared, “Which is why I need you and Alaina to run.” Gram’s face blanched in a wash of shock. I sped up my tempo to a high-speed rant before she could argue. “You each need to pack a bag and get to the airport tonight. Hop the first flight to Michigan you can get. I’ll tell Mom you’re coming …”

“And if they attack there first?”
White lines appeared around Gram’s tangerine painted lips under the weight of her potent scowl.

My
jaw swung slack. How had I missed that crucial detail?
My family in Michigan would be unprotected …

“I’ll go.” Big Mike turned his head
and rumbled down to me, “They’ll be safe.”

I swallowed hard and rasped
a meek, “Thank you.”

“
No
!” The palm of Gram’s hand slapped down on the end table with a loud
crack!
“Young lady, I am seventy-two years old and this is my home.
I’m not going anywhere
.”

I matched her fiery glare with one of my own and forced the words through
clenched teeth. “If you stay I can’t protect you.”

Her features softened
. Anger relinquished its hold to understanding. “Baby girl, when have I ever given you the impression I needed protecting? Whatever’s coming, I’ll be right here with my family to face it.”

Even though every fiber of my being was telling me to protest, I knew it was pointless.
Like it or not, Grams had made up her mind. Instead, I jerked my chin at Alaina. “What about you?”

Gabe
sat on the couch and stroked his bride’s knee as she perched on the sofa arm. “I think it’s a good idea, Lani. You’re mortal now. I’d kinda like to keep you around as long possible.”

Her hand hovered over her stomach protectively as she nodded, “I’ll go.”

At least someone here is thinking straight,
I bitterly mused. “Good. Now to the rest of you …” I let my gaze sweep over the room but pointedly avoided eye contact with Caleb or Rowan. Those were two landmines I would avoid setting off as long as possible. “Really think on this. Don’t sign up out of obligation. I don’t want—”

“I’m pregnant
,” Alaina interrupted. Her eyes bulged as if she shocked herself with the declaration.

A chorus of gasps sucked the air from the room. It rushed right back in trills of laughter and joyful shouts.

I watched the celebration with sad detachment. Gabe gather
ing his wife in his arms and peppering her face with kisses. Caleb giving Gabe a congratulatory slap on the shoulder then pushing his way past him to squeeze his sister tight. The Glee Club breaking into a rousing mash-up of baby themed songs. Grams immediately spouting off about effective stretch mark preventative creams and the importance of Kegel exercise—gross. Kendall, bouncing on her toes and claiming the task of decorating the nursery as her own.

Positioned
between Terin and Big Mike, I realized my role here was now the same as theirs. We were the warriors, present for the happy family’s big moment but not really a part of it. Tears welled behind my eyes. I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood.
Would I ever see the baby’s face? Would I learn its name? Watch it grow?

“
You need to wrap this up,” Terin whispered, her face full of a compassion I didn’t know her capable of. “Say you’re tired, make an excuse. Then get your mind right for what’s to come.”

“
Sorry, was I emoting at you?” I huffed a humorless laugh and swiped at my eyes with the back of my hand.

“
You didn’t have to.”

“
Ahem
…” I stepped forward and adopted an all-business tone to put a quick end to their jubilance. “You all have reasons to retreat.
None
of you have to make this fight yours.” I saw shadows of indecision that hadn’t been there before and rejoiced in them. If nothing else, Alaina’s announcement reminded them all of their mortality and how much they really stood to lose. “If you want to run, do it now. Those that decide to stay … live the next twelve hours like they’re your last. Because they could very well be.”

I turned on my heel and strode for the door
as a low buzz of conversation swelled behind me.

“Celeste, lovey, wait!”
I made it as far as the foyer before Caleb caught my upper arm and spun me to face him. “If I only have a few hours left …”

Whatever heart-wrenching
declaration he was about to make was interrupted by snaking black smoke that solidified into a noticeably grouchy pirate.

“
Can I request a moment of our willing martyr’s time?” Rowan spat. The tendons of his neck and arms were taut with tension. If he kept grinding his teeth like that he’d have to resort to sipping pureed meals through straws.

I
f I knew Rowan—and history had repeatedly proven I didn’t—that conversation would be a volatile one. And as much fun as being called derogatory terms from the seventeenth century was, my patience level for it registered at non-existent.  

I hel
d my hands up to halt them both, but fixed my stare on the black and white polka dot rug at my feet. If my gaze betrayed me by wandering to one even a second too long it would speak volumes. “You made a deal to keep your distance until this was over. For one more day we all need to honor that pact.”  

Without another word
, I snatched my art satchel from the hook on the closet door and bolted from the house. The screen door banged shut behind me as I bounded off the porch. My brisk pace couldn’t escape the ominous silence of the still sleeping town as it whispered warnings of all I’d left unsaid to the people I loved. I knew I may never be able to correct that act, but I couldn’t allow myself the luxury of doubting my decision. It was too late. All I could do now was wipe the free flowing tears from my cheeks and walk on.