Misfits, Gemstones, and Other Shattered Magic by Meghan Ciana Doidge

Author:Meghan Ciana Doidge [Doidge, Meghan Ciana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-927850-76-3
Publisher: Meghan Ciana Doidge
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

8

Sodden and shivering, Kandy and I were intercepted by Gran two feet inside her granite-tiled entranceway.

“Basement bathroom.” Gran pointed sternly back through the still-open door behind us.

“Gran,” I whined.

“I’ll bring you extra towels. Did you find the elves?”

“One. And she pretty much found us. Then got away.”

“That last part was my fault,” Kandy said.

Gran harrumphed, then actually tapped her foot while eyeing the puddles forming beneath us. “Go. I’ll bring you something to wear. You can put everything through the wash.”

Grumbling, I hightailed it back out of the house. Crossing along the path toward the garage entrance, I jogged past Gran’s car, then through the basement door. Kandy chortled quietly behind me the entire way.

“Yeah, hilarious, wolf,” I said peevishly. “This skirt is dry-clean only.”

Kandy snorted. “You haven’t used a dry cleaner in years.”

Gran flicked on the lights in the hallway that bisected the lowest level of the house. She was waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs, her arms full of the most beautiful, puffy, and hopefully absorbent towels in the world.

Kandy picked up her pace, grabbing the top two towels from the stack in Gran’s arms. “Dibs on the shower!” She pressed a kiss to my grandmother’s cheek, then took off down the hall toward the bathroom just off the laundry room.

I sighed, taking a towel from Gran and halfheartedly drying my hair.

Gran smiled at me, briefly touching my cheek. “We’ll figure out how to deal with the elves. Jasmine and I have already discussed a few options with the grid.”

My stomach sank slightly. I seriously hoped that those ‘options’ didn’t include trying to tie me to the witches’ grid again. That wasn’t an argument I wanted to rekindle. “Oh?”

Gran laughed quietly. “Come. I’ll get you those clothes.”

I expected her to head back up the stairs. But instead, she headed down the hall. Halfway along, I paused at the door to the map room, glancing in to see Jasmine sitting in the center of the floor, meditating. I could understand her urge to do so. The power literally etched into the walls in black paint was awe-inspiring.

“Jade?”

I glanced down the hall. Gran was standing in the door to her storage room, holding a large box.

“You should be able to find something in here.”

I closed the space between us, and Gran pressed the box into my arms. Then she immediately began hustling back down the hall toward the stairs. “I’ll put on the kettle.”

I glanced down at the box. It was unlabeled. I set it down at my feet, then tore off the strip of tape that held the flaps closed.

Various items of clothing — jeans, T-shirts, socks, underwear — were neatly folded within. I picked up a hand-knit sweater, catching the scent of the lavender laundry soap that Gran favored. She had knitted the black cardigan years before, adding a touch of red in a geometric motif reminiscent of runes around each wrist, just above the ribbed cuff.

It had been a Christmas gift.

For Sienna.

Hot tears spiked at the edges of my eyes.

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