“But you knew it was a crystal ball feeding me the dreams through the brass canopy.”
“I figured that much after checking the bibliography on conductive telepathy. Unlike you, I do read German. But I didn’t even know that the crystal balls or the Eyes existed. All I knew was that someone, or something, or somethings, were spying. And one was spying from Axton House. You two found out what it was. I’m glad I trusted you. You were the right choice.”
“Yeah, well, I only recently caught up with you on your choices. It took me a while to figure out why Niamh was the one doing the protection.”
“She was the only Watcher I knew,” said Liza.
“Okay. That explains why her. But why me?”
“She chose you.”
She and Niamh shared a significant nive.
I turned to Niamh. “Well, thank you then. It’s been … illuminating.”
Outside, the world of truly old streets, bicycle bells, and buildings without fire escapes ran gray and unaware of our presence. It felt cozy to watch.
“What I’m most sorry about,” I said, “is that we never apologized to Knox. We suspected him all the time because he suspected us. Meanwhile, we never noticed Glew because he never suspected our cover. No one did, really. Strückner mentioned that Ambrose had been contacted by someone around May regarding his relatives in Europe; he said they’d met in Clayboro, but his discretion prevented him from inquiring any further. At times, I think … it’s like even Ambrose believed I was his second cousin twice removed.”
“I am sure he wouldn’t have minded,” said Liza. “When I confronted Ambrose in May, he was convinced he was about to die and nothing could be done to prevent it. It could, as you two proved later, but at the time he was resigned to following his father’s path. He would die another victim of their game, and his friends would mourn him for a day and continue to play, ignoring his last wishes. That’s why he agreed to this deal: I watch over the Society, or have someone do it for me, and in exchange I learn everything: who is watching me, how, and why.”
“Pity we failed at the watching-over-them part,” I said bitterly. “Still, it was such a big deal he offered you. I bet he was crazy about having found you.”
“Actually, he hadn’t. He’d been poking around, and I found him. But yes, he seemed pleased to meet me.” Liza smiled away in modesty. “After all, he’d seen so much of me already. He’d seen me at my best.”
“I know,” I said, in awe of her many unknown facets. “Sixty-six times since 1900. By the way, you made the Juggernaut again this year. Congratulations, Betty.”
“Thank you,” said Aunt Liza, playing with a ringlet of dark brown hair. “I work hard for it.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Edgar Cantero is a writer and cartoonist from Barcelona working in Catalan, Spanish, and English. He was born in 1981.
The Supernatural Enhancements Page 26