The ghost came up to her. You’re strong. You pulled the Power up in daylight, and you called me to you. You’re very strong for such a young one.
Well, I didn’t call you on purpose, Grace told her. Gripping the Power while talking with the ghost took all of her strength. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold on without it sucking her into that dark, endless sea. She said, I wanted to see if I could pull the Power up in daylight, but since we’re having this nice chat, you really need to let go now. Or take it back. I don’t give a shit which one you do, just do one thing or the other.
The ghost turned away, and her coiling grew agitated. What if I can’t take it back? I’m no longer alive. I cannot contain my own Power.
Then let go, dammit. Your connection to it is too strong. I can’t get full control while you hold on. Grace injected all her strength into the words. In the back of her mind, she was turning frantic. If she couldn’t get control, she didn’t know if she could release it safely.
The serpent woman looked at her. Her smile had faded away to be replaced by something much darker. What if I don’t want to let go? My Power is alive in you. As long as my Power is alive, something of me is alive as well.
Realization struck. You’re the reason why the Power doesn’t bond with any one person, why it jumps from Oracle to Oracle, Grace said. It’s because you won’t let go. But you’re not alive. You’re dead. You’re only pretending.
While they were speaking, she searched for how the Power connected to both her and to the ghost. Now that she knew she was haunted, she could try to get rid of the ghost in the ways she had been taught, but she didn’t know if she could do that while she still held on to the Power. She might have trapped herself with her own impetuousness. Dumbass.
Holding on is the only thing I have left, said the ghost.
Fury welled. Grace said, You didn’t “kiss” my ancestor. You didn’t mean to give her a gift. You just fucking bit her.
The ghost hissed, I give life to all of my children!
Grace had begun to shake. Her grip was close to slipping. We’re supposed to be your CHILDREN? she gritted. No decent parent I know would ever put their child in jeopardy.
I haven’t put you in jeopardy! the ghost roared as she recoiled. You did that to yourself when you tried to control something you were never meant to control!
Really? said Grace. You mean when I tried to take what had come to me, what was supposed to be mine? That doesn’t sound like much of a gift to me. She grew calm as she told the ghost, It’s not too late. I’m sorry you died, but you died. Maybe you didn’t mean for this to happen, but you can still make good on the gift you tried to give my ancestor.
The serpent woman stopped coiling on herself, and that feral, beautiful face turned wistful. The ghost asked, What would you, a mere mortal, do with an immortal Power?
Don’t you think it’s time we find out? Grace said. If she couldn’t persuade the ghost to let go, she was going to have to take her chances and exorcise it, whether she was struggling to deal with the Power or not.
The serpent woman’s wistfulness grew. She held a hand out, as if she would caress Grace’s cheek. You’re not only strong. You’re more impertinent than the others were.
Grace didn’t know what to do. She wanted to cry or laugh or scream. She said, Maybe I’ll grow out of that. I’m still pretty young. Give me this chance. If I am really supposed to be one of your children, let me become your heir.
The ghost’s hand dropped. She faded away. Grace felt the ghost let go.
Instinctively, she braced herself. Afterward, she realized that might have saved her sanity and maybe even her life as the dark sea rushed toward her in a tidal wave. She threw everything she had at it, straining to hold on. All thought burned away in a gigantic, formless roar.
Gradually the roar quieted as the tidal wave receded. The darkness in her mind faded until she could see sunlight again.
She looked around wildly, soaking up the sight of the meadow drenched in sunshine. Then she bent at the waist, shaking as she drew in deep gulps of air, as wrung out as if she had just sprinted a mile.
She realized she could hear voices. Don and Margie were still talking just inside the tunnel door. The entire conversation with the ghost, along with her struggle to get control of the Power, appeared to have taken place within the span of a few moments.
Goddamn. She wiped her sweating face with the back of one hand. She couldn’t tell if she felt euphoric or flat out nauseated. Just, goddamn.
“Miss Andreas?” Margie said behind her. “Are you all right?”
“Call me Grace,” she said, her voice hoarse. She straightened and turned. Margie and Don looked at her with nearly identical expressions of discomfort and concern. “I’m fine,” she told them. “I got a little warm, that’s all. Have you made a decision?”