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“Oh, I believe she is. I'm sure she’d love to see you.”
Elara nods, knowing she has a trip to make first thing in the morning. She's due for a visit with her grandmother, anyway. She hasn't seen her at all since starting college.
Elara's father clears his throat, adjusting in his seat after eating more than one serving of seconds. “I can give you up to my great grandparents' names. I’m sorry I can't be much help beyond that.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Elara says, acknowledging his attempt to help. Neither of her grandparents on his side of the family are alive, so if any anomaly comes from them, she may never know.
A little disappointed but full, Elara heads to her old room, sighing at the sight of the magical color-changing curtains before plopping down on her bed. She’s just a little closer to answers now.
Elara pulls out of the parking spot, her nerves jittering with anticipation. She might finally have her answers today. At least some of them.
She takes the road leading out of town, away from the bustle of the city. Just like Laith, Nana lives on the outskirts, though her house isn't as grand. She calls it home base, a launching pad for all her travels. Really, the place is full of collectibles over the years. Artwork from foreign galleries, some signed by the artists. Souvenirs and pictures from museums. She even visited Giza once when she was younger. She sometimes tells the story of a boyfriend she had who was an aspiring archaeologist and took her there.
In a way, Nana’s a woman after Elara's own heart. Though a little more sentimental in nature. And she’s hard to pin down in one spot. Even when she’s home, she likes to go shopping, go on nature walks, and have card and game nights with her friends. Sometimes the family jokes she has more of a social life than her grandchildren. Truly, she does.
As soon as Elara pulls up to the one-story brick house and puts the car in park, Nana opens the door. Elara gets out of the car and heads into her grandmother's outstretched arms. Instead of smelling like mothballs or things other elderly people smell like, she smells of perfume and leather.
“Your mother told me you'd be coming to see me this morning. I must admit, even though it's for schoolwork, I’m still very happy to see you.”
The two embrace and Elara’s led inside. The living room is decorated in various shades of brown and accents of a warm orange color. The brown leather couch is the same one that's been there for years, well taken care of, and as comfortable as ever.
On one end of the couch sit some leather-bound volumes—albums of photographs and hopefully family tree information.
A thrill of excitement peaks in Elara as she sits down on the opposite end, allowing Nana to take the middle. Tea with lemon and honey waits for them both on the wooden coffee table, a favorite of her grandmother's.
“I got these ready just for you. It's been a while since I've looked at them, so I had to dust them off. It's kind of fun looking at the past, though. Seeing where we came from.” Nana smiles warmly and sets one of the volumes on her lap. Flipping it open, Elara leans over to see some notes on one side and the other side holds a tree going back five generations. Probably not long enough to reach back into ancient history, but a start.
Nana begins to describe each person Elara doesn't recognize, telling fun and interesting stories. All of them, though, are from the United States. Nothing out of the ordinary. Not until she points to a very faded photo at the top of the tree. A man in some kind of military uniform, but not much else because of the age of the photo.
“Now, he is quite the mystery,” Nana explains, tapping her finger beside the faceless image. A tingle runs down Elara’s spine. This is important. She can feel it. There’s something about this unknown man. “Only known as Colonel Hartford and no first name. I do know he came from overseas. Ireland or England. Somewhere like that.” Nana runs her hand over the picture. “He met his wife escaping something, though I don't know what. And of course, these are only stories my parents used to tell me.”
Elara nods in understanding. It's been passed down by word of mouth so not all reliable, but so many important things get passed down that way and never put inside of a book. Her own studies have taught her that.
“The rumor goes that he actually comes from an ancient royal line, though I don't recall which one.”
An ancient royal line… That's the exact kind of thing Elara is looking for. “Is there any way for us to find out more about that or him?” She points to the faded picture with no face.
“There were books I researched when I was younger. Lots of them. My parents kept a whole library, but shortly before I moved into this house, they were all stolen.” Nana frowns, and Elara's stomach drops. Stolen? What good would it do to steal family books and heirlooms like that? They’re worth nothing to anyone outside their family. “What I have here is all that's left,” Nana says.
Well, that’s a problem for another day. The bloodline, though, could be something.
“Thank you, Nana,” Elara says, giving her a squeeze. The two of them have been there for hours, the last dregs of tea going cold. “I have to start on my project, and this was so helpful.”
“You come by anytime, Elara,” Nana says, smiling softly.
Elara walks out the door with a smile and a wave, distracted as she pulls out her phone. She needs to tell Kade about this. Maybe he’ll be able to help her find more, or at least validate that this is the clue they've been looking for.
I need to talk to you. Where can we meet? I’m outside of town.
Elara sits in her car, awkwardly waiting in her grandmother's driveway for a reply. She wouldn't blame Kade if he didn't answer. Here she is, using him after telling him to stay away. She’s probably confusing him as much as he’s confusing her.
Finally, a reply comes through.
The edge of the woods. The ones where you had me kidnapped.
Kidnapped; he’s being dramatic, but Elara acknowledges it was a nasty trick. Even though he’d left her no choice.
We both know you could’ve left at any time. I’ll see you soon.
