This time, she shook her head. “I didn’t think they’d believe me.”
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice calm and even. “Would you like to tell me?” I asked.
Bea played with her fingers, clasping and unclasping them in her lap. “I think… I think I’msupposedto tell you.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Supposed to?”
Bea nodded again. “I think she… she wants me to.”
“Who wants you to?” I asked, my voice cracking with the strain of trying to remain calm. I was wound so tightly, I thought I might snap.
In answer, Bea picked up her sketchbook and flipped back through the pages to the very last sketch. Then she held it up for me to see, and as determined as I was to remain placid, I couldn’t help but gasp in surprise.
It was Asteria. Asteria, in her flowing skirts and her boundless curls. Asteria, whose wise and often mischievous face was folded into planes of worry… perhaps even fear.
“You’ve seen her too?” I whispered.
Bea’s eyes widened. “You?”
I nodded.
“I… I didn’t know you could. I didn’t even really know that I could.” Bea whispered.
“At first, I thought I was dreaming,” I admitted. “Seriously. Because as far as I knew, Asteria wasn’t… still here. There was also the fact that I didn’t believe in ghosts at all. Then again, my life has become one long string of things I probably wouldn’t have believed a month ago, so I’m getting used to that feeling.”
Bea put her little hand on top of mine, and squeezed sympathetically. The gesture brought a lump into my throat that I had to swallow against.
“But this isn’t about me, sorry,” I apologized. “What does Asteria have to do with this?”
“At first, I just…felther,” Bea said. “I would be doodling, and I’d look down, and there she was. I’d draw her without really meaning to. And then, today, at the cafe… I told you that I started sketching Veronica. Well, this is what happened when I started doing that. It’s why I didn’t want her to see it.” She flipped a few pages forward in her sketchbook, and held it up again for me to see. This time, the image was of Veronica Meyers, somewhat rough, as though it had been done quickly, with no time to go back and refine it. But it was clearly her—her swanlike neck, her aquiline nose, her slender figure, but she was not alone. Asteria stood beside her, almost hovering over her, and her expression was anxious.
“You saw Asteria with Veronica?” I gasped.
“Well, no. I didn’tseeher. But I felt something, and when I tried to draw what I felt…” And she gestured somewhathelplessly to the drawing, like it had sprung to life on the page in spite of her efforts, rather than because of them.
I wasn’t totally sure if I understood, but I nodded as though I did. So Asteria wasn’t here only to communicate with me. She’d been following Veronica Meyers around. Why? Had she known what Veronica was up to? Was she trying to stop her? Was she trying to warn me? My head was spinning.
“There’s more,” Bea whispered, and I pulled my attention from the sketchpad to look at her again. “When I went down to the festival… well, it wasn’t exactly my idea to disrupt the festival.”
“Whose idea was it?” I asked.
Bea pointed to Asteria’s image. “It was her. She was there, at the festival. I was so scared, and I was crying, and then I heard her call my name. I looked up, and she… she smiled at me. She told me not to be afraid, and that I could break the spell if I stopped the words of the pageant. And then she… she was just gone. Vanished.”
Again, I was rendered speechless. Asteria was still protecting me—protecting all of us. But why? Why hadn’t she moved on after her clifftop send-off? Had the events of the last week pulled her back from beyond the grave? Or had she been here all along, undetectable, silent, and invisible among us? My head was beginning to ache with the pressure of unanswered questions.
Still, at least, the biggest question seemed to be answered at last. I’d proven I could connect with the other elements: earth, fire, air, and water. And now, with the sightings of Asteria, it seemed I could connect with spirit as well. Or at least… one spirit in particular. Still, it seemed like it might be enough. It seemed I might really be the pentamaleficus the Darkness was looking for. Five elements. Five points of power.
After weeks of wishing for some sign of power, I suddenly found myself wishing I had none at all. Once upon a time, I’dhave thought magic the solution to all my problems, and now I knew that it was, in fact, the cause. What a bitter pill to swallow.
“Wren?”
It took a lot of effort to drag myself up out of those thoughts, but I managed it. “Yeah, Bea?” I asked.
“Are you okay?” she asked, looking at me with a skittish sort of wariness, as though she thought I might explode unexpectedly.
“Sorry, Bea. My head’s kind of spinning with all of this. I’m okay. I guess I’m just… I’m wondering about my grandmother. I’m wondering why I can see her, why she’s here. And I don’t know how to answer that question.”
“Oh, I do,” Bea replied mildly.
