“So you’re the one who helped Emma shove him through,” I realized. “There’s a door in the cemetery, isn’t there?”
“There always has been,” she confirmed. “Declan didn’t disappear twenty years ago. We made him disappear. We didn’t tell Jareth because we feared he’d fight us. Declan was his nephew.”
“He has no love for Declan.”
“I realized that after.” May looked sad. “We took an oath to keep it secret. We had no choice.”
“Who is we?”
“It doesn’t matter.” May was firm when shaking her head. “The decision has been made. I have to stay here with your mother. You need to take care of your grandfather.”
I was not going to accept this. “I’m not leaving you over there.”
“You have no other choice.”
She was arguing with the wrong witch.
25
TWENTY-FIVE
Iwas disturbed when I woke the next morning. Galen was used to me being in a bad mood but even he picked up that this was not a normal awakening.
“What’s with that face?” he asked.
I propped myself up on the pillows and stared down at my hands plucking at the blanket. “I had a dream.”
“Well, if I didn’t put on a good performance in it then you know it was a nightmare, not a dream.” He was going for levity but I didn’t smile.
“Hadley, what is it?” he asked, turning serious. His fingers were gentle as they brushed my hair back. “Did you dream about Declan?”
I shook my head.
“Bogdan?”
I shook my head again.
“It had better not have been about Booker.”
I gave him a withering look.
“Sorry.” He held up his hands in supplication. “I can’t help unless you tell me what the dream was about. Most of the time I try to joke you out of your bad mood in the morning.”
I rolled my neck and glanced up at the window. “It was about May.”
Galen looked surprised at my answer. “Did something happen to her in your dream?”
“That’s just it. I don’t think it was a dream.”
“She was here?” Galen looked around, as if my ghostly grandmother would appear at the foot of the bed. She had done that a time or two when we first started dating. Eventually — after getting more than an eyeful — she decided it was better to spend her nights at Wesley’s place.
“She’s over there,” I said. “On the other plane, just as I assumed. She said she’s not coming back.”
“I don’t understand.”
I related the dream for him in halting terms. I didn’t cry but I wanted to when I got to the part about her remaining behind for my mother. At some point — I don’t remember exactly when — he started rubbing my back, which only made me want to cry more.
“We can’t leave them there,” I said.
