Bedlam Boyz(68)

"Because, honeychild, you an' me have to talk. Let's go for a walk, okay?"

Silently, Kayla followed the ghost of Elizabet's grandmother through the darkened house to the front door. The ghost drifted effortlessly through the door, vanishing from view. Kayla followed, and barely stopped herself in time to avoid bashing her nose against the door. She opened the door very quietly, so Elizabet wouldn't hear, and stepped outside.

Outside the house, the street was very quiet, with the faint echo of the late-night traffic on Laurel Canyon as a distant noise, sounding almost like waves on a shore. Kayla followed Gram around the side of the house, along a winding trail that led to the top of the hill—or, rather, Kayla walked and Gram floated.

"Can you tell me a little bit about this ghost stuff<W1%75><|><D%0>?" Kayla asked, trying to catch her breath as they paused at the top of the hill. She looked out at the lights of the city, spread out like a glittering carpet of jewels around her. From this viewpoint, she could see the lights of Los Angeles to the south and the San Fernando Valley to the north.

"Oh, you'll understand that eventually," Gram said, also admiring the view. "There's not much to it. The basics are simple. There are two kinds of ghosts: people with unfinished business, and ones like myself who are too stubborn and meddlesome to leave. You want to watch out for those folks that don't have all their business taken care of, girl—they can be nasty. But we have more important things to talk about." Gram sat down in midair as though on a chair, folding her legs under her. "I was born in 1860," she said. "In Georgia, on a farm. You know anything about American history, girl?"

"A little." Kayla nodded. "Wasn't that right around the time of the Civil War?"

"You're right. I was born into slavery, just like my folks, my grandma and grandpa, and my great-grandparents had been. When I was a little girl, they outlawed slavery, and suddenly we were free. Even as a child, I understood what that meant.

"But I'll never forget that for the first few years of my life, someone owned me. That's the choice you'll have to make, girl. There are people out there who want to own you. And the question you have to ask yourself is: will you let them? Right now you're surviving more by luck than anything else; luck and my granddaughter Elizabet watching over you. But this choice, this has to be yours. Elizabet can teach you the ways of magic, what you need to know to control your talent and not hurt the people around you. But me, born a slave in Georgia, I can teach you about freedom."

"I don't want anybody to control my life," Kayla began. "But how can I stop them? It's not like—"

Gram cut her off with a sharp gesture. "It's not a question of wanting, it's a question of whether you're willing to fight right down to your last breath to be a free woman. Are you? They may gild the cage for you, make it seem like a lovely place to be, but slavery is slavery. And not just for yourself, but others."

"What do you mean?" Kayla asked.

Gram glanced at her quickly. "You're a part of more than you know, girl. Things, they're gonna be happening around here. You'll need to be ready for 'em."

Kayla didn't know what to say to that. Gram pointed off to her right, away from the glittering carpet of lights of Los Angeles, across the dark hills between L.A. and the San Fernando Valley. "Can you feel it, girl?" she asked.

Kayla shook her head. "I don't understand. Feel what?"

"Look there, in the hills. Can't you feel it?"

Kayla squinted, trying to see what the old woman was talking about.

"No, no! Not with your eyes! With your heart," Gram said in an annoyed voice.

Kayla closed her eyes and reached out her hand, trying to sense what the old woman was talking about. There was nothing there. . . . No, there was something. A faint glimmer of magic, very far away, a dim point that glittered in the night. As she looked more closely at it, she could feel a sense of power, drawing her toward it.

"That's the source," Gram said. "That's the source of magic for all of Los Angeles. There are a lot of folks that need that to survive. Keep that in mind, girl, that folks' lives are depending on that little place."

"What folks? I don't understand."

"You'll see," Gram said, "you'll see." She glanced up at the sky, where the moon was setting behind the distant hills. "My, it's time you were in bed. Go home, girl; go home and learn, and think about what we've talked about."

Without another word, the old woman faded away.

Kayla stood on the hillside, looking down at the lights of the city. I don't know that I'm strong enough, she thought. Gram can talk about freedom till she turns blue . . . well, she is blue, already! But I don't know that I can do it. Carlos terrifies me. I don't know how to stand up to him. And Nataniel and those other nasty elves . . .