Chapter 18: Chapter 18

“You know, she was born in the middle of a thunderstorm.” Ru looked up to find her grandmother staring out at nothing through the thin white curtains that hung in front of the only window across the room from them. “I took one look at that little mite’s back and knew she was going to be a spitfire. She came out that way, scratching at the world like she was going to tear a new opening in the veil. So, having the markings of fiery wings on her back was no surprise to me.”

Ru was confused; this didn’t sound anything like the happy little cherub her grandmother had described before, and she wasn’t sure of the connection between the markings and the name.

“I was mighty surprised when she was such a carefree little one, never a trouble, never a problem. I thought I might’ve named her wrong. Then, when trouble struck, it hit all at once. And I knew Seraphina was the perfect name for her. I only wished I’d chosen something else.”

“What does it mean?” Ru finally asked.

“Fiery wings,” Nana replied. “Maybe if I’d named her Lilly or Daisy, she’d have been a calm soul her whole life.”

“Do you really think our names have that much to do with our paths in life?” Ru asked, realizing what that might mean for her, growing up with a name like Ruin.

“I do,” Nana nodded, “for Keepers anyhow. Perhaps not for us human folk.”

Ru couldn’t help but chew on the inside of her cheek. She’d finally met someone who was related to her by blood, and this woman also felt there was nothing she could do to escape the anarchy that wove its way through her life at every turn.

“Rune,” Nana whispered. “That means… you are the key. You can unlock the mystery.”

Ru looked up and caught her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Rune. There’s writing on your back, isn’t there? Who do you think etched those words into your flesh, into your very spirit?”

She continued to hold the other woman’s gaze but couldn’t manage a reply.

“God Himself.”

At such a thought, she didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. Did this old lady actually think that God had taken the time to send a message through her? Carved into her back? As she was mulling over a response, the bedroom door creaked open, and Ru looked up to see Cutter standing there. Thankful that he’d interrupted before she had to configure a response, she smiled at him.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything. I just came to check on you.” He gave Ru a sympathetic grin, and a rush of thankfulness warmed her heart. She really was extremely lucky to have him as her guide through all of this mayhem.

“Not interrupting at all,” Nana assured him with a smile. “We were just about caught up.”

Cutter nodded. “You must’ve talked fast. That’s a lot of years to cover in a short amount of time.”

“Well, most of them were not particularly interesting, not until the end, anyhow,” Nana muttered. She picked up the photo album and carefully stood. Ru wasn’t sure if she should offer to help, but she managed to make her way over to the bookshelf and slide the volume in at the end. It seemed like she should say something in response, anything, but she was having a hard time figuring out the words.

“What’s this?” Cutter asked, stepping forward, and once again, Ru was glad she wouldn’t have to speak. He slid one of the drawings out from under the pile. Ru hadn’t noticed it before as just the corner was sticking out from beneath the picture of a crying angel that had been on top. While she hadn’t had the chance to study any of her mother’s drawings until just now, she was taken aback by how moving each piece was. Her mother was very talented.

The drawing in question looked like an ancient cross of some sort, and Ru didn’t see anything particularly interesting about it. Nana turned and crossed back to the table, stopping behind Ru’s chair and leaning over the back to study the picture. “It’s just one of Sera’s drawings,” she replied with a shrug.

“It’s… familiar,” Cutter replied, still looking at it intently. “Would you mind if I took a picture of it so I can show it to Lyric?”

“No, not at all,” Nana said. “Take as many pictures as you want.” She patted Ru gently on the shoulder. “I’ll give you kids a moment.” She looked around the room and then sighed once more before making her way out into the hallway. She left the door open, and Ru could hear her footsteps echo down the hallway and then the sound of her dropping into what sounded like the recliner in the living room. Cutter already had his phone out and was snapping a photo of the cross before he moved on to another picture on the table.

Taking her grandmother’s words quite literally, Ru stood up and crossed back to the photo album. Without stopping to give it much consideration, she opened the album to the back and pulled out the picture of her father.

“What are you doing?” Cutter asked, stepping up next to her.

“You heard her. Take as many pictures as you want.”

“I don’t think that’s what she meant….”

“Do you think she really wants this picture of my dad?” She held the picture up for Cutter to see.

“No, I guess not,” he admitted, and Ru shoved the picture into her pocket before he could say anything else about it. “Are you sure you do?” he asked.

Ru didn’t know how to respond to that, so she chose to ignore it. How could she explain to him, someone who clearly had the perfect Beaver Cleaver upbringing what it meant to actually have a picture of her father after twenty-five years of not knowing anything at all about him? She put the photo album back on the shelf and glanced back along the spines one more time. On a whim, she picked up her mother’s copy of Romeo and Juliet. Clearly, Sera had thought of herself at least a little in the same light as the star-crossed daughter of Lord Capulet. She flipped it open and a single piece of paper fell out.

“What’s that?” Cutter asked, gathering it up from the floor.

“I don’t know,” Ru replied, still holding the worn volume. The paper was small and thin, and Cutter unfolded it carefully, trying not to rip it.

“It’s a sketch,” he said, quietly. “It looks like… an island or something.”

Ru leaned over his shoulder and looked at the piece of paper. She wasn’t sure what about the roughly drawn shape somewhat resembling a circle looked like an island to him. At the bottom of the paper were two words she couldn’t read. They appeared to be written in another language. Some of the letters didn’t even look like they belonged in the Phoenician alphabet. “What do you think that says?”

“I have no idea. But the letters on that cross,” he gestured at the paper on the table, “match some of the ones on your back. And so do these.”

She couldn’t help but stare at him in wonder. The letters on her back? Was he also implying that he thought the markings on her back were from God? It was all a little too much.

“I’ll take this to Lyric, too,” he said, carefully placing the paper in his pocket, apparently over the idea that they shouldn’t take any of her mother’s belongings without asking permission. Ru nodded. “Are you ready to go?”

“I guess so,” she admitted, letting out a sigh. She looked around the room one more time. She’d never imagined she would be standing in her mother’s childhood home, talking to her grandmother, and now the entire process was becoming overwhelming, so she desperately wanted to escape the situation. Even if she couldn’t somehow transport herself back to her own house in Reaper’s Hollow, where she’d sit on the sofa and grade papers, Piper on her lap, at the very least, she needed to get out of here, though the guest room at Cutter’s parents’ house was anything but inviting. Still, she felt haunted by the memories her mother’s life imprinted on these walls, and she was thankful when she felt Cutter’s hand in hers. Even when everything else seemed strange and uninviting, at least she had his constant reassurance that somehow her mess of a life would turn out all right in the end.