Murder sat in the floor, arms around her legs as she rocked. One, two, three. One, two, three. Grant just stood, watching. He looked at her, he looked at Levi. Like Levi, his world was crumbling. He looked at Murder in the floor again.
“No.” He reached down and picked her up. He took her out of the room and to one of the love seats in the lobby area. She reached for the room and Levi’s remains as he carried her. She beat on his chest for a moment before collapsing into his arms in deep silent sobs. Grant felt that he was too shocked to cry.
Suddenly, as if she snapped from some stupor, she finally spoke. “How long has it been?” Her tone was manic. She tugged on his collar, trying desperately to shake a response out of him. “How long, Damn it! How long?”
He reached for the watch. He had seen the time when the woman closed it. “Eight, maybe ten minutes.”
“There’s still time!” She pushed him off and ran back to the room. “There’s still time! It takes thirteen minutes.” She grabbed for Levi’s arm. It crumbled in her hand. She fell, once again heaving on the floor. She mumbled. “There’s still time…”
Maxwell and Rita had sprung into action. They rounded up the guests. Giselle was on her phone, possibly with Arthur. Working on a spell? They had rounded up everyone else in the building too.
Murder saw what was going on. She stood, mumbling again, watching Maxwell scramble. “Obliviate…” She looked at Grant. She squinted. “Time?” her tone was softer than before but just as desperate.
Grant shook his head. She closed her eyes and bowed her head. Grant finally regained some clarity.
“Ira… he's… he knows golems.” Murder looked at him. Still stupefied, tears dripping from her cheeks like spring rain.
“Who?”
“Ira,” Grant's eyes burned with rage. “When I find him he’s going to wish I killed people.”
Murder closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “You’re right. He’s been… not right all day... He was…” she drifted off. Looking at the dried husk.
“He was hung over? …Right?”
“Grant!” Her eyes were wide. She shook her head as if in disbelief and also like she was solving the answer to the meaning of life. “We don’t get hungover… not like that. Our bodies detox.” Her iPhone jingled in her clutch. She dropped it. She picked it up and fumbled with it. “Tress.” She handed Grant the phone. She walked back toward Levi. Head cocked. Eyes squinting.
“In trouble, bring snacks.” Grant read aloud as Murder’s eyes got large.
“Bring snacks? Grant! Ask her where!”
“There’s a geotag…”
“We need a car.”
Grant walked to Maxwell. “Keys.”
“No way. You’re in shock.”
“Please. I’ll explain later.”
“Fine, don’t wreck and die okay? I’ll take care of this mess. You should call an ambulance and go to the hospital instead...” He gave Grant the keys.
Murder took them from his hand. “I’ll drive.”
***
They drove in silence to the geotag, it was on the nearest shoreline. Tress was indeed there waiting by her Thunderbird. She led them to a cave. Once inside, Murder cried and fell to her knees. Grant’s jaw hit the floor.
“Did you or did you not bring snacks?” Murder stood. She grabbed Levi by the throat and held him to the wall.
“How the hell could you do that to me?”
Levi spoke as best as he could without oxygen. “I had to. She had to believe it.”
She let him go and embraced him deeply. She was still angry. They both cried.
Grant scratched his head. “How did you… how’d you know?”
“There was a whole year that Levi was constantly smoking marijuana. He ended every. Single. Message. With ’Bring snacks.’ It was something I would notice, but no one else would.”
“Okay, but who… what was that?”
Levi flashed a toothy grin. “Golem. Courtesy of Ira Brener. The ’mystery woman,’” He made air quotes with his fingers. “Made him immortal to help her find a way to kill me. He’s a golem architect. She doesn’t want to kill you, sister, she wants you to suffer. She says it’s the whole point of the curse.”
“Well, that would've been the proper move. I’m glad you’re okay, but I’m quite cross with you right now.”
“I know. But now she thinks I’m dead and believe me, Ira was closing in on a way to end me. Instead, he decided he liked me and vowed to save me. We came here last night and he showed me the near-flawless copy he had sculpted, and with me in the room he was able to perfect it. He imbued it with life in the tradition of his Hebrew heritage. He was deathly afraid to tell us who she is without a plan to save me.”
“And Ira?” Grant asked.
“Is safe for now. With his charge.”
“Who is she?” Murder was still furious, but had been hungry for this information for a long time.
“Mary, Mother’s rival and sister.” Murder’s jaw dropped.
Grant shook his head. “Great, you’ve put her back in shock again.” Grant hugged him anyway. Then he gave Murder his arm to steady her.
She had to know, so she asked. “So is my Father?”
“Ira said Mary cursed Anne with you in her womb because she slept with her husband, William Stafford.”
Grant winced. “Well, that would explain why you were cursed by Mary, but,” he searched the internet from his phone, and pulled up a painting of Elizabeth I. He held it up to Murder, “I’m pretty convinced you’re a Tudor, through and through.”
Murder smirked at him.
Grant breathed a sigh of relief.“An hour ago I was worried I might not ever see that magnificent smirk again.”
“Mother sleeping with Stafford is ludicrous, ” Murder stated, matter of factly, ”He was the consolation prize at best.”
***
Grant called Maxwell to see what still needed to be done.
“No, I took care of it. I put all the clay in another coffin. In case maybe… you know. None of the guests will remember anything except that you were too upset to deliver your eulogy. Is the young woman okay?”
“Yes, thanks, Rick. Tress is going to be fine. Obviously, we’re shaken. That woman will be back. You should all probably avoid us until we figure this out.”
“No way. You’re in trouble. No way I’m abandoning you.”
“I’m bringing your car.”
Tress was taking Levi to a warded safe house. He’d be flying to England tomorrow. He had contacts that might help them figure out how to separate Protectors from their charges safely. He figured Ira didn’t have much time, Mary was insane and he’d “completed” her task now.
Murder picked Grant up at the funeral parlor in the Jaguar. He was surprised to see her wearing old jeans and a t-shirt.
“I’ve got some of your old clothes in the boot, Ethel’s letters eluded to some magical items that may be in your house.”
“That’s a good idea. Plus that’s kind of what people do when people pass away.”
She squeezed his hand. “Yes, I’m sorry. I don’t think we’ll be finding your grandmother alive somewhere.”
“Doubtful. It was hard not telling Maxwell and Rita everything, I told them I trusted them, and needed them to trust me.”
Murder downshifted for the upcoming curve. “Hold on tight!” She yelled as the tires screamed.
***
Grant remembered a chest that he was never allowed to mess with as a kid. It had always been kept under Grandma’s bed.
He pulled it out and found the key on Ethel’s massive key ring. The chest unlocked with a loud clunk.
The most obvious thing inside the chest was an old music box. Murder wound it, and set it aside.
“So, do you feel any different now that you know for sure?”
“No. I was always certain.”
“And you’re typically right.”
“There was one thing you said, that got me thinking…when you pointed out that I favored Elizabeth. I’m kind of a massive underachiever.”
“You? There’s no way that’s true. You’re an entrepreneur and philanthropist, your songs and stories on your webpage have earned you a small, but very devoted fan-base nearly overnight.”
“My mother: Queen of England, catalyst for the Protestant Reformation, and creation of the Church of England.
“My sister: was a brilliant strategist, One of the most celebrated queens of England, and she did it all without ever getting married.”
“I see your point.”
“Plus you’ve got a crush on my mother.” She winked so he’d know she was kidding.
“I had a crush on the actress. I think I’m better off now.” He smiled at her
“I did follow in Elizabeth’s footsteps in one way.” She placed an old silver mirror to the side and Grant picked up an old pocket knife to fidget with. “I also never married. I was thinking about our discussion. I think... I don't want to get married as a cover story. Mary might kill us… Or, we will end immortality, and I won’t need a cover. Or, Levi and I will be the same as ever, only with less reason to hide.”
Grant’s heart sunk a little. He thought for a moment about his next words, before going all in. He took her hand. The one with Ethel’s ring. “What about marrying for love?” He watched as she teared up and her lower lip trembled.
“Yes, Grant Noble.” She smirked through the tears.
“Yes?”
“Yes, I will marry you… for love.” She opened the music box and “Let Me Call You Sweetheart” filled the air. Grant noticed her swaying lightly as usual. The room was filled with a twinkling glow. It looked like it was full of fireflies or fairies. The bedroom changed, and Grant and Murder were wearing old, 1950s-style clothes. A sepia wash colored their field of vision. Murder spoke but Grant heard Ethel’s voice.
“You’ve picked a good partner. She is powerful and I can tell she loves you.”
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