Grandma’s House

The text exchange with Oliver’s stepdad Stan left Sersei somewhat befuddled. She was pretty sure there was another code embedded in the dialogue.

Putting Oliver’s phone down, she cradled her head in her hands. Time was running out. Checking her watch, it was starting to get late and she definitely needed her rest for one final gambit to draw Oliver out of hiding. A smile creased the side of her face as she contemplated her next move. It was time to play her hole card. Grandma. If some alternative means of finding a wayward little existed, she would know it. Grandma was an early riser and likely already tucked in for the night. Needing rest for herself, Sersei set the alarm on her phone for sun up and decided to grab some shuteye.

Waking up early, Sersei lay in bed and stretched languidly, feeling reinvigorated, rejuvenated, the sounds of footsteps out in the hall making her think it was probably Cerys returning from the hospital. She frowned. Not that she bore Cerys any particular enmity, but the other girl made a point of being aloof, remote, definitely making her hard to like.

Climbing out of bed, she decided to grab a quick shower and a bite to eat before heading out. Arriving at the sprawling spacious rancher, Sersei ascended the stairs up onto the veranda and knocked on the door, trying to peek through the gauzy material of the curtains covering the windows.

Eleanor Crawford appeared at the door, though in her seventies, with her haired dyed chestnut brown she easily looked to be in her forties if not even younger. Opening the door, “Sersei dear, what brings you by?” she asked, smiling sweetly and stepping back to permit her granddaughter entry.

“I’m sorry to intrude so early in the morning,” Sersei apologized, nodding her head contritely.

“Nonsense child, come in,” Eleanor invited, waiting for her descendent to enter before closing the door.

“I, well, time is sort of critical, and well, and I kind of stuck in a dilemma,” she hesitated, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Spit it out girl,” Eleanor directed, extending a hand toward the doorway leading into sitting room.

Letting out a pent up breath, “Okay. I don’t know if you remember but I held first claim on Oliver Haynes and he underwent the ritual the other night, but, well, somehow he managed to escape the chamber and now we can’t find him anywhere. We’ve looked everywhere, completed a full on room to room search and no luck. I swear, I think he’s dug in like a tick somewhere on the second floor of the Omega house. Miss Frost has decreed if I do not find him basically by Kent’s ritual tonight, she will claim him for herself,” Sersei explained.

“Edith Frost? I heard she was in town to oversee the taking of Samantha’s boy and now you say she has taken an active interest in your little?” Eleanor questioned, guiding Sersei to a divan into the sitting room.

Taking a seat on the divan, “I’m not sure why though,” Sersei replied, shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head.

Sitting beside her granddaughter, “Why? You needn’t burden yourself with why Edith Frost does what she does or why she does it, her motivations have always been her own,” Eleanor said. “It is odd though that she would involve herself in this rather than just allow it to play itself out,” she added.

Shaking her head, “She seemed extremely confident she would be able to find him if we could not,” Sersei offered.

Eleanor snorted, “There is no telling the depths of that woman’s abilities, she was already old when I was still your age and whatever rumors are circulating about her now are probably the same as they were for us back then. If she set her mind to it, I doubt your Oliver could hide from her for very long,” she concluded with a wry smile.

Twisting in the divan to face her grandmother, “I came here hoping maybe you might be able to lend a hand, you know, suggest a way to go or something I’ve overlooked,” she petitioned.

Eleanor chuckled, “Me?”

Placing her hands on Eleanor’s leg, “Isn’t there something you could do to help us find him before Miss Frost steals him?” beseeched the girl.

Eyes narrowing contemplatively as she pursed her lips, “Perhaps,” Eleanor replied, tapping a finger against her lips.

Sersei brightened, “Really?”

“There is a little known trick I’m aware of but it involves the use of a Weeping Stone,” she said, shaking her head. “With the recent disappearance of one of them, the keepers have been keeping them pretty well guarded.”

Perplexed, “The Weeping Stone? I don’t understand?” Sersei inquired.

Eleanor held up both hands, “Let me explain the nature of the stones to you a little more clearly dear. From what I’ve been told, or led to believe, the Weeping Stones are supposedly the actual tears of a goddess, making them a divine conduit or some such other, whether it’s true or not, who can say, but anyway that’s the lore surrounding them. That said, during a reaping the stone draws in the essence of the person being harvested before transforming it and delivering back to us as the gift we enjoy during the ritual. After the taking, a trace residue of that person’s essence remains locked in the stone. For how long, I don’t know for sure, but I think until another is taken,” she explained, pausing, “which would explain her deadline.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Sersei replied.

“The essence confined in the stone is still keyed to the original source so it can be used to trace back to the source, so I’ve heard. Think of it like a dowsing rod, except instead of looking for water you can use it to ferret out your little. It’s a rough analogy, but it’ll suffice,” Eleanor stated, holding up her right index finger.

“Do you think that would work?” she asked hopefully.

Eleanor waffled her head from side to side, “I honestly don’t know. Only the keepers of the stones would know for sure. Obviously Vesper is the tenders for this house so she would be in a better position to know,” she supplied.

Smile appearing on her lovely face, Sersei perked up, “And if she were willing to loan it to me I could use the stone and track Oliver?” she queried.

Tapping a finger to her lips, “On your own probably not, but Vesper more than likely know how to do it if it were possible,” Eleanor mused.

Expression darkening, “If it is possible, I don’t understand why Vesper or Miss Frost didn’t suggest the possibility of using the stone to find Oliver in the first place,” Sersei harrumphed.

Eleanor smiled and held up her hands, “I couldn’t say dear.”

Gears turning inside her blonde head, Sersei nodded slowly. If she could convince Vesper, Oliver was as good as hers.