See How She Fights (The Chronicles of Izzy #2)(26)

“What’s going on?” Conall voice was laced with concern.

“She has a thing about tight spaces,” Kennan replied quickly, trying to get them to drop it. While Ian and Conall talked, Kennan bent his head to whisper in my ear. “If I could distract you, trust me I would.” He pulled back with a sly grin and I caught a flash of our last elevator ride together. Distraction indeed. Just as I let my mind fully submerge in the memory, the elevator came to a stop. We climbed out and headed to Isabelle’s apartment. Her mother was waiting for the news that no parent wanted.

“Come in,” we heard from behind the door before we were even able to knock. “Don’t just stand out in the hallway, get in here,” she yelled again.

Conall opened the door and held it for us to get inside. Ian and Kennan entered on either side of me so that I became the filling in a Guardian sandwich. We arrived to find a simply decorated apartment and were greeted by a woman that could easily rival Isadora in class and eccentricity. She sat on a multicolored chair as though she had been waiting for us all afternoon.

“So it is done, I presume? And you must be Izzy. It is a pleasure to meet you, although I would have preferred happier circumstances. I am Eleanor,” she said, motioning for us to sit down. I must’ve had a shocked, or perhaps confused, expression on my face. I never could hide what I was feeling. “You seem disturbed by my lack of emotions.”

“Well, to be honest, I am a bit confused. Isabelle was your daughter, right?” I asked, staring at the woman.

“Yes. You see, I saw this day come weeks ago. I knew she was going to die. I knew there would be some sort of ritual. I had no more information than that. So, I’ve grieved silently for weeks. As my daughter went about her day to day activities, I sat in misery. I could not tell her because she had to stay true to her course. I have to live with that. So instead of focusing on her, I turned my focus toward helping you, Izzy. I recognized part of the ritual as one the Druids used to perform.”

“Isabelle told me something about some books she had returned to the library,” I said thoughtfully. Perhaps Eleanor would have the key to unlock this mystery. Hopefully, she could at least tell me about the ritual.

“You saw her? You spoke with my baby?” Eleanor gasped as a tear threatened to slide down her cheek. “But, you didn’t interfere did you?”

“No, I was having a vision of the ceremony. In it, she died, and once she was removed from this plane, I guess it made it so that I could talk to her. I am not really sure why or how. I just know that I talked to her,” I finished, feeling sick to my stomach. I didn’t want this woman to know that her daughter was stuck between planes unable to move on.

“I know she is dear,” Eleanor said, reaching for my hand. “Do you mind if I see what you saw?” she asked. I knew she wanted to sift through my memories to see our interaction.

“I don’t mind, but it is all a bit ghastly. Are you sure you want to have that sort of memory of your daughter?” I asked, knowing if I was in her place I would want to remember her happy and alive.

“It is not about wants, sweet girl. It is about needs. Perhaps there is something in those memories that would make more sense to me,” she said sadly before continuing. “I need you to center your mind. Think back to the vision and replay it in your mind.” I did as she said, and as soon as she latched on, I could feel her moving in my mind. She flipped through the images like an old movie replaying sections as she went. When she was finished, she looked at me, astounded.

“Well, that was disturbing,” she said, looking a bit green. “Who was the other girl there?”

“Ren. Apparently I see dead people now,” I muttered before I realized it was an entirely inappropriate time to make such a joke. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“I understand. You did nothing to offend me my dear.” She patted my hand before settling back in her chair. “So, this Ren was also a victim of the sacrifice?”

“Yes, ma’am. She showed up in the dreaming last night, urging me to solve this mystery,” I said just as my exhaustion decided to settle over me.

“Well, I do believe we should head out to the Council, don’t you?” she asked before moving to the door where a packed bag awaited her. As she passed her daughter’s picture, her hand unconsciously rose to brush a finger across the image. She may have appeared put together, but I knew she was a hair’s breath away from breaking down completely.

“That sounds like a brilliant plan to me,” I yawned, following her out.

We made our way back down to the garage quickly. The elevator didn’t try and kill me this time. Thank God for small favors.

We began to pile in the car, and the image I was struck by caused me to giggle. I imagined a clown car stuffed to the gills with Guardians. Everyone stopped to stare at me as though I had finally gone mad. It was the second time that day I had found humor in an inappropriate situation.

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I crawled into the middle of the backseat.

“I thought it would take her longer to crack than that,” Ian said, snickering as he climbed in. I reached up and smacked him upside his head as he sat.

“I am not going crazy. I was just thinking of clown cars.”

“I rest my case,” Ian said as we began to pull out of the garage.