snarls. I find this phone thing absolutely fascinating. Yes, Fairies
have different ways of communicating over great distances, but none as
convenient as this.
“You haven’t had a wife in
over seventeen years, Sveargith.”
“You have walked right into
the devil’s trap. Get out now, while you still can.”
“I can say with a rather
large amount of certainty, the devil does not take the form of a seventeen year
old girl.” I bet she can.
“Athear, see reason. Let me
get you out of there. Come home, where it’s safe.”
“Why on earth would I want
to leave? This is my first chance in over seventeen years to see my daughter
and get to know my granddaughter.”
“Athear, your daughter is
dead. Do not be fooled by those spirits.” The grandfather does not believe
his daughter is the spirit floating next to her mother? How odd.
The Angel shakes her head.
“You are a stupid old man Sveargith. You know that our daughter’s spirit
remains. And it is no wonder that she does with the likes of you out gunning
for her daughter. Your granddaughter.”
“Athear, I am not going to
have this argument with you again. I am on my way there. I will pick you up
and we will get you somewhere safe while I and the Witan do what is necessary.”
“If you hurt one little hair
on my granddaughter’s head, you will regret it.” The wrath of Angels is
legendary. I can see why. The fires of hell are burning in this Angel’s eyes
at the moment. Even her daughter floats away from her.
The Witch King tries another
tactic. “Honey, I know how desperately you have wanted to find Quillian all
these years. But wishing something to be true doesn’t make it true. Spirits
do not remain in this realm intact. They are but shadows of their former selves,
and they are easily used as puppets for practioners of black magic. The girl
and that Fairy she is aligned with are confusing you with these images. You’re
confused. Let me help you.” The Witch is lucky he is not here in this room
with his wife. I am convinced that she would kill him on the spot.
“If you show your face here,
with or without the Witan, you had better be prepared for a fight. And
Sveargith, you have only had a small taste of Xandra’s magic. You will be
unpleasantly surprised if you go up against her again.”
“I am willing to take my
chances. I will win this,” the Witch King growls. “Even if that means I have
to drag you out of there and then destroy that house and everyone in it.
Living or spirit.” He disconnects the line.
My grandfather died long
before I was even thought of, but I am guessing I would have had a better
relationship with him than Xandra has with hers. How can this man be so sick
and twisted? I am with the Angel on this. If he harms one hair on Xandra’s
head, he will regret it.
“Eggs?” the Angel asks me,
as if nothing has changed.
“Yes, please.” She sets a
plate of fried eggs and toast in front of me and it is the best food I have had
since I came to this realm. It is good to know that not everything comes in a
can or a box. Everyone is quiet as the two of us with functioning stomachs eat
our fill.
When we are done, the Angel
reaches for my plate and brings it to the sink with hers. “Julienne, where
might I find your herb box?”
“In the closet in the
pantry.”
The Angel opens the pantry
door and finds the box. Bringing it to the kitchen table, she examines it,
picking up a piece of something here or there to look at more closely, and
sometimes to smell them. She is attempting to figure out the potency of what
is in the box. Most of these things have probably been left dormant for
several years, since its owner has not had functional hands to pick new ones.
After a few moments, the
Angel looks up at me. “I am going to need a few things. If I make a list, do
you think you could find them?”
“Yes, but I may need
have different ways of communicating over great distances, but none as
convenient as this.
“You haven’t had a wife in
over seventeen years, Sveargith.”
“You have walked right into
the devil’s trap. Get out now, while you still can.”
“I can say with a rather
large amount of certainty, the devil does not take the form of a seventeen year
old girl.” I bet she can.
“Athear, see reason. Let me
get you out of there. Come home, where it’s safe.”
“Why on earth would I want
to leave? This is my first chance in over seventeen years to see my daughter
and get to know my granddaughter.”
“Athear, your daughter is
dead. Do not be fooled by those spirits.” The grandfather does not believe
his daughter is the spirit floating next to her mother? How odd.
The Angel shakes her head.
“You are a stupid old man Sveargith. You know that our daughter’s spirit
remains. And it is no wonder that she does with the likes of you out gunning
for her daughter. Your granddaughter.”
“Athear, I am not going to
have this argument with you again. I am on my way there. I will pick you up
and we will get you somewhere safe while I and the Witan do what is necessary.”
“If you hurt one little hair
on my granddaughter’s head, you will regret it.” The wrath of Angels is
legendary. I can see why. The fires of hell are burning in this Angel’s eyes
at the moment. Even her daughter floats away from her.
The Witch King tries another
tactic. “Honey, I know how desperately you have wanted to find Quillian all
these years. But wishing something to be true doesn’t make it true. Spirits
do not remain in this realm intact. They are but shadows of their former selves,
and they are easily used as puppets for practioners of black magic. The girl
and that Fairy she is aligned with are confusing you with these images. You’re
confused. Let me help you.” The Witch is lucky he is not here in this room
with his wife. I am convinced that she would kill him on the spot.
“If you show your face here,
with or without the Witan, you had better be prepared for a fight. And
Sveargith, you have only had a small taste of Xandra’s magic. You will be
unpleasantly surprised if you go up against her again.”
“I am willing to take my
chances. I will win this,” the Witch King growls. “Even if that means I have
to drag you out of there and then destroy that house and everyone in it.
Living or spirit.” He disconnects the line.
My grandfather died long
before I was even thought of, but I am guessing I would have had a better
relationship with him than Xandra has with hers. How can this man be so sick
and twisted? I am with the Angel on this. If he harms one hair on Xandra’s
head, he will regret it.
“Eggs?” the Angel asks me,
as if nothing has changed.
“Yes, please.” She sets a
plate of fried eggs and toast in front of me and it is the best food I have had
since I came to this realm. It is good to know that not everything comes in a
can or a box. Everyone is quiet as the two of us with functioning stomachs eat
our fill.
When we are done, the Angel
reaches for my plate and brings it to the sink with hers. “Julienne, where
might I find your herb box?”
“In the closet in the
pantry.”
The Angel opens the pantry
door and finds the box. Bringing it to the kitchen table, she examines it,
picking up a piece of something here or there to look at more closely, and
sometimes to smell them. She is attempting to figure out the potency of what
is in the box. Most of these things have probably been left dormant for
several years, since its owner has not had functional hands to pick new ones.
After a few moments, the
Angel looks up at me. “I am going to need a few things. If I make a list, do
you think you could find them?”
“Yes, but I may need
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