Falling Light (A Game of Shadows Novel) by Thea Harrison Page B

out of bed, drew on her bathrobe and slippers and shuffled out of the bedroom.
    Jerry’s grandson had left his bedside. Jamie sat at the dining table, with his head in his hands. An empty coffee cup sat in front of him.
    “I guess Jerry’s asleep,” she said, even though she already knew the answer.
    The boy’s head jerked up. His eyes swam with misery. “Yes. Can you check on him now?”
    “I will in a minute,” she said, stifling a sigh.
    The boy whispered, “I think he should go to the hospital. The thing is, I’m not sure he’s well enough to be moved. Grandmother, I’m scared.”
    The boy was beginning to realize that Jerry wouldn’t be getting any better. Astra’s mouth tightened. Jerry should be in his own bed, surrounded by the love and respect of his family and friends as he passed, not lingering here like some unpleasant household chore.
    She nodded. “I’ll be right back.”
    She walked outside. The early evening air felt fresh and peaceful. The freshness was always welcome, the peace always illusory. She paused by her favorite tree, a massive four-hundred-year-old oak, and braced a hand on its trunk. As always when she touched it, the tree responded by generously giving her energy from its deep, green strength.
    She patted it, braced her back and sent out a call. Moments later, Nicholas walked to her. Sunlight shone through his tall, transparent figure.
    She remembered the generous, kind boy he had been, and the strong, young warrior who became a Green Beret. In maturity he had been a powerful, quiet man. He had only been in his early forties when he’d been killed. Sudden moisture dampened her eyes, surprising her, and she gritted her teeth against the unwelcome emotion.
    Some would say that Nicholas had already given the ultimate sacrifice and that he deserved peace. Both of those things might be true, but she couldn’t afford pretty sentiment. She needed to use every tool she could in order to defeat the Deceiver.
    Jamie is right
, Nicholas said.
My father is dying.
    As a spirit, Nicholas would be able to see how Jerry was beginning to disconnect from his physical body.
    She didn’t try to prevaricate. Instead she said simply,
yes.
    In the pale, shimmery figure, a hint of dark, intelligent eyes regarded her.
Is there nothing you can do for him?
    I’m sorry, no, there isn’t
, she said. Now she was lying to a ghost.
But I need to ask you to do something for me.
    He said nothing, but just watched her. It was so reminiscent of Nicholas’s impassive expression when he had been alive that it goaded her into talking.
    I know you would rather stay with your father right now
, she said.
I’m sorry, but this is important, or I wouldn’t ask. I need you to find Michael and Mary for me. I need to get a message to them.
    You have creatures that serve you,
he said.
Why not ask them? Why me?
    She nodded.
You’re right, I could ask one of them to do it, but you are so . . .
Valuable. Lucid. Reliable.
Because of your skills and your intelligence, you have the best chance of getting to them and delivering the message safely. And that’s what matters right now, getting the mission done.
She searched his expression for any sign that her words had resonated with him.
Will you do that for me? For them?
    He still didn’t answer right away, and his face was too blurred and indistinct for her to read. Instead he appeared to be scrutinizing her.
    Astra felt an uncharacteristic uncertainty. Had he sensed that she had been lying about Jerry? She was a damn good liar, but often ghosts and spirits could sense things that embodied creatures couldn’t, and as a young man, Nicholas had witnessed her helping some of his people with healing from time to time.
    It goaded her into saying,
Nicholas, please. I will work to see that your father doesn’t pass until you return and can be by his side.
    That would be good of you
, he said.
    His guarded, measured tone stung, and her mouth tightened. Damn it, she would not