This choice: Tap into Grandma's memories • Go Back...Chapter #11Grandma's Clue by: imaj   Time freezes and you find yourself thousands of miles away.
A memory of Margaret Dillon’s library pushes its way to the front of your mind. Five years ago you sat there and told the ancient Lurgan about how you planned to keep yourself on the right path. You’d come to realise, as all members of the Stellae do, that while your talents give you the power to help and protect people, they can also be dangerous to both you and the people round you.
With great power comes great responsibility. You learned that from a comic book.
Though she hadn’t shown it when she met you – not that Margaret Dillon ever showed much – she was concerned about the way you came to the Stellae: The age you were, your background with the Libra and the way it had set its workings inside you. You’d had to come up with a way to stop you falling to the temptations of abusing your powers and you had.
It had come to you a few days after you’d absorbed the imago of a cultist that had been intent on sacrificing you and two other young women to fuel some petty ritual. Carrying around the memories of what he’d thought and done had worried you enough to seek out the help of Kali Valentine. Together you worked out how to discard imagos you had stolen. You’d promptly discarded the cultist’s persona and gone to Margaret to share your discovery. You’ sworn that you’d remove any imago that you no longer needed, as soon as you no longer needed it.
By all rights you should have done that with the imago of Grandma Shabbleman long ago. The only reason you still have her in your collection of faces is because Charles Brennan insisted you keep her memories. He needed to know just what Fane had gotten hold of when they attacked Cuthbert three years ago, and as long as they still hold it, you’ll need those memories to help the Stellae pry it away from them.
But that’s given you a small advantage here. Grandma Shabbleman created the original versions of the monster now standing between you and your escape. Her memories might hold a clue to how you can get past it.
The memory of Oxford fades and you find yourself at the heart of your collection of imagos. Each identity is like a star and they orbit each other on carefully laid out paths. What remains of Grandma Shabbleman’s imago is set apart from the rest: A crackling ball of black lightning that fills you with foreboding.
You draw it towards you slowly and carefully, only pulling at the wisp like memories that flit around the physical part of her imago. Accidently submerging yourself in Grandma’s form would only result in a ripped dress and terrify Bea and Imogen. The memories come in dribs and drabs, at once horrifying and fascinating you. A flashed recollection of the childhood cruelties inflicted on Rosalie makes you shudder. A memory of Grandma placing a binding ring on Will Shabbleman gives you pause for thought.
You find what you’re looking for, all the memories about the guard beasts of Cuthbert, the Minotaurs. Back in the real world you feel a faint half smile form on your lips. As canny as she was, Grandma left a weakness in the monsters. Something to exploit if they ever got out of control. A simple little word that would stun the beast, and if enough force was put behind it temporarily disrupt the way the grafted…
You pause. You need know more about the weakness save that it exists. With a though, you banish all of Grandma’s memories, pushing her imago away from you.
Your eyes snap open and suddenly you are back in the real world. Scant seconds have passed since you decided to tap on Grandma’s memories. Beside you, Imogen and Malaika start to panic. Bea tugs on your hand again, terrified by the monster in of you. The creature bellows in triumph as it legs tense, ready to spring directly at you.
You whisper the chthonic word you retrieved from Grandma Shabbleman’s memories, pushing at it with the full weight of your power. A silvery light flares on the creature’s chest
Your legs give out beneath you and you fall to your knees. It feels as if someone has set your skin on fire, as pain rages across every corner of your body. Siobhan’s form wavers and almost slips from your grasp for a few seconds. The momentary weakness only seems to fuel the girls’ fright and you struggle to dampen it down with Eldibia given your current state. The worst part, though, is the nagging sensation that a little coil of darkness has wrapped itself round your soul.
As bad as you are though, the creature fares worse. Grandma’s cluehas disrupted the connection between infusion used to spawn it and the host’s body. The mass of muscles deflates and the creature takes on a more human looking shape. It doesn’t go quite all the way back to normal, the man in front of you is still freakishly muscled, just with the bounds of a normal human being. You realise he was one of the serving staff handing out drinks as you arrived.
“Did you undo it,” asks Malaika, starting to kneel down beside the prone man.
You pull her back to her feet, despite the exhaustion you feel from using the disruptive word. “No, it’s just temporary,” you tell her in a hoarse voice. “I don’t think it’s possible to undo what they’ve done to him,” you add sadly. You reach down and touch the man on the forehead, activating your knockout sigil. That will keep him unconscious after the effect of the disruptive word wear off.
“Can you do that to the rest of them,” asks Bea hopefully.
You sigh. “No,” you reply as you stand back up. “I was hardly able to use that word on one of them.” You shiver as you remember what it felt like touching on Grandma’s memories, even only for the briefest of time frames. “I don’t want to do that again.” Bea looks crestfallen. “Don’t worry, the rest of my friends will be able to deal with the monsters easily.” Bea smiles. You wish it really were that simple.
“Thanks for saving us and all,” says Imogen, trying desperately to sound calmly dismissive. She fails badly, in fact, her hands are shaking. “Can we run away now?”
You nod and step over the slumbering man. Even now, the muscles of his body are slowly starting to re-inflate to the grotesque and gargantuan proportion he had a few moments ago. You give the door handle a turn: It doesn’t move - it’s locked. Crying in anguish you push at it. To your surprise the door gives way, splintering around the lock. You guess it must have already have taken a battering, either from the dead wedding guest lying on the floor, or from the monster that killed him.
You step through into a small, square room with doors that lead off into the hotel’s other function suite and back into the hotel. The room is untouched by the chaos you have just passed. A sign on the wall points forlornly back the way you have came, little moveable letters indicating that the Stewart – Durras wedding is that way.
As the girls follow you through, you hear voices coming from the direction of the hotel. Though you can’t make out what they are saying, a little premonition warns you to make yourself scarce. You motion to one corner of the room, just by the door back to the hotel. If anyone comes from that direction, you’ll be able to see them before they see you. That means you can tie them up in the tendrils of your cloak, blinding them to your presence.
Imogen and Malaika follow you into the corner. You’re sure you’ll be able to hide them under your cloak as well so long as they stay close enough. Too late, you realise that Bea has panicked and hidden under a chair opposite the door.
“Bea,” you hiss at her, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible. You let Eldibria course over her emotions, trying to calm her down.
It’s too late though. You can hear the voices approaching already. “…all Ah’m sayin’ is the bombs didn’t go off,” says one of them: A woman with a strong southern accent, Texan maybe? “And now our so-called tech expert ain’t nowhere to be found. You do the math Gustavo.”
“Can it Williams,” says a second voice, level and authoritative: A man this time. “You can bitch about Bobby later.”
The voices enter by the door moments later. Three in total, two men and a woman, they fall into the folds of your cloak immediately. They’re all dressed in the same matt black fatigues and body armour. The way they move, scanning the room carefully and keeping ugly looking assault riffles levelled at all times screams military, but their lack of a uniform belies that. Mercenaries then? You certainly saw many like them three years ago in Cuthbert, further confirmation that Fane’s hand is behind all this.
“Found one,” says one of them men, an ugly looking brute with an equally ugly smile. You haven’t heard this one speak before. He points his rifle at Bea.
“Good,” smirks the woman. She’s only got a pistol in her hands – her rifle is a long barrelled thing strapped to her back – but she immediately trains it on Bea.
“Whoa, Whoa, Drew,” says the third man, the one you heard called Gustavo earlier. “What are you doing, she’s just a kid.”
“You remember our ordahs don’t you Gustavo,” says the one called Drew, smirking darkly.
You have to do something.
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