Page 65 of Jacob Michaels is Dead

Oma, Lucas, and I stood inside the fence that surrounded the garden, staring down at the ground as Oma jabbed at it with a stick. Lucas was holding my hand, his body slumped against mine, leaning against me for strength. The rush of our memories being returned to us—in no particular order—had done a number on him. In all honesty, my knees still felt like they were jelly, and there was a pretty intense throbbing at the lower base of my skull above my spine. Getting memories back—real memories—and so many at one time, well, the human body just isn’t meant to handle such a thing. The walk up the stairs from the cellar and out to the garden had been challenging.

Of course, I really had no one to blame but myself. Oma might have fucked with our memories some, after I jumped in the well the first time, and since I’d been back, but we had lost a lot of our real memories in the first place thanks to me. I was the one who had made three wishes and jumped into the well in the cellar—when it was still there—to use the power to defeat Bloody Bones. But like every witch that had come before me, I had failed to understand that no magic would ever be strong enough to defeat him for good. He was just as big a part of the magic of the lands we stood upon as anyone else.

“Made sure they was buried properly,” Oma said, jabbing at the ground and avoiding my eyes. “Respectful like. Me and the Kobolds saw to that, Rob.”

“I’m sure you did your best.” I had no fight in me now that I knew the truth.

“Your mom, well, she was really just collateral damage,” Oma said quietly, staring at the ground. “Your daddy, he knew what was comin’ for him. He just didn’t realize it was comin’ so soon. He met Carlita that mornin’, while you was wakin’ up and havin’ breakfast…by the time he got to the house after talkin’ to Carlita and bein’ told he was comin’, ole Red Eyes had done did what he did to your mother and was turnin’ on you. Your daddy did his best to run Bloody Bones off…but he knew he had to face him in real battle. He knew he had to do what he was born to do.”

“I see.”

“Jesus in a gravy boat,” Oma shook her head, “we had trained him like he was young. Just like all the others. But Bloody Bones never came when it was time. We thought maybe he was never comin’. Your daddy went on about his life. Got married. Had you…y’all was livin’ pretty good. Then…poof. Bloody Bones decided to show up. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. But it is what it is.”

“It is that.” I sighed, wrapping my arms around Lucas.

“So,” I said, “I was born, and this ended up falling on me instead of some other distant relative simply because he decided to take a rest?”

“Essentially.” Oma shrugged. “I suppose so. If he had come for your father when he should-a, well, we wouldn’t be talkin’ right now, Rob. But…well, you know the story of how Bloody Bones came to be. You know about the first witch. You know about how the magic to fight him was in her bloodline and the magic she used that made that well. You know your parents died that day—your mom protecting you—and your daddy doin’ what he was born to do. You know I ain’t your grandmother—”

“You’re The Guardian,” I said simply, unemotionally.

“Yes.” She sighed and looked up at us. “By the time he came for your daddy, Carlita and I was about fed up with this shit. A witch defeats him, he goes away. Comes back, another witch defeats him. On and on and on. Ain’t none of ‘em ever been powerful enough to keep him in the ground for good or outright destroy him. Or send him straight back down to Hell.”

“But—”

“Well,” Oma interrupted me, “that ain’t necessarily true. The first witch…well, she did it. He would-a stayed locked away for good, I imagine. If it weren’t for that goddamn well. And then—”

“Why did the well just…pop up out of the round?”

“That I don’t know.” Oma shook her head. “Carlita and I have discussed that over…many, many years…and the best we can decide is that there was too much magic in The Witch—the first one—for these lands to contain. Or maybe she consciously did that knowing that there would be extra help in the future if he ever returned. But…like all humans…your ancestors was a greedy bunch. Usin’ magic like Lake Erie is filled with it. They perverted and destroyed that well. By the time you came around, we knew there wasn’t much left for you to use if the time came.”

“Just enough to make things drag on a little longer.” I nodded.

“Right.” Oma nodded. “And I just lied to you.”

“What?” Lucas whispered, standing up a little straighter next to me, though his hands stayed tightly around mine.

“I said the first witch was the only one that could’ve gotten rid of him for good,” Oma explained. “That ain’t necessarily true. When your daddy died putting that shitass back in the ground, and I came here to look after you, to train you, teach you…I saw a little of that first witch in you. I thought you could actually do what needed to be done—but in a more permanent way. We just had to keep you alive long enough for you to build up the strength to do it.”

“So,” I snorted, my eyes shutting as I smiled ruefully, “you taught me the story. You trained me how to use my magic, you told me about Bloody Bones. You let me find the well—put the idea in my head to wish things away so that Bloody Bones would get sealed away a bit longer, the pack of wolves he built with the help of The Council would back off once their leader wasn’t there to lead…then you put the idea in my head to run away.”

It wasn’t asking questions. I was recounting my memories.

“That sums it up mostly.” She agreed, letting the stick in her hand drop the ground so that she could cross her arms over her chest. “But then this one comes along.”

Oma jabbed a finger at Lucas, and he actually twitched.

“While Bloody Bones was suckin’ up magic out of the land and finding people to store it in until he was ready to rise and take it all back to use in his final attempt to stay in this world forever—to make it his…I don’t know…kingdom?...he gave this one something special. Something he didn’t mean to. He gave him the power to foresee things. Some folks around here ain’t magical at all. Some is good with fire or levitating things. Some is good with potions or spells. But, Lucas here, he’s special. I think he might have given him a bit of magic he didn’t know enough about.”

“What does that mean?” Lucas hissed his question.

“Well,” Oma sighed, “your gift of foresight rivals that of Carlita—may she rest in peace. Way back when, when you two was becoming friends—”

“Which you and my grandfather arranged!” Lucas barked.

“Well, yeah.” Oma shrugged again. “No sense in lyin’. When you two became friends—we saw a powerful witch and a powerful oracle. Carlita and I got to thinkin’….”

Lucas and I looked at each other, trying to figure things out. Finally, it dawned on me. I turned to Oma, an incredulous smile on my face.