"Dean Wesley Smith - The Last Garden In Time's Window" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Dean Wesley)

I snapped the phone closed before he could tell me not to do what I was thinking.
I felt very alone, as if by hanging up on him I had cut off a safety net that I needed to get through
this. Or maybe that feeling was coming from the fact that my grandparents were gone. They had always
been there for me, a sort of stable, safety net of human caring and love. They had always accepted me
for what I was, never judged, never criticized. They had only given support and worried about me being
well fed and healthy. Right now I was missing that support a great deal.
I stepped back up into the trailer and moved down the short hall to the bedroom. The imprints of
their bodies on the bed seemed like ghosts to me. In this place they were still here, yet not. This was their
private place. I had no memories in this room.
I eased along the tight space between the wall and the bed until I stood over impression that had
been Grandma's final resting place. There was one spell I had read about online, but never asked Dirk
about. All the apprentices I talked with had used it at one time or another to find people or things. I had
not.
At least not until now.
I took a deep breath, leaned down and just before touching the place on the bed where my
grandma used to sleep, I spelled the words, "f-i-n-d G-r-a-n-d-m-a."
I had no idea what a find spell would do when looking for a dead person. More than likely I would
end up at the cemetery, but at least I had to try.
The tingling in my fingers snapped into a sharp pain in both arms that threatened to break bones and
twist my wrists off. I snapped my eyes closed as the pain streamed up my arms, through my shoulders,
and smashed into my head, knocking me back against the wall.
Then I found myself, the pain gone, in a beautiful rose garden that seemed to stretch forever. A
woman was kneeling, her white hair in a bandanna, clipping at a bush.
"Grandma?" I said, knowing from the back that it was her.
She looked around, startled. "What?" She stood, dropping her clippers as she moved toward me.
It was clearly Grandma, only about twenty years younger and looking very healthy.
"Bob!" she shouted for my grandfather as she got near me. She had a very clear look of worry on
her face. The last time I had seen that worry-look directed at me was the night she told me my father had
died.
From behind a row of rosebushes my grandpa stood, shook his head, then laughed. He had a lit
cigar in his mouth and a twinkle in his eyes.
"Where are you right now?" Grandma asked, clear worry in her voice.
I glanced around at the garden of fantastic roses. In the distance were tree-covered mountains. The
air smelled fresh and slightly warm. "I don't recognize this place."
She shook her head as my grandpa moved up and stood beside her. "No, how did you get here?"
she asked as she looked me directly in the eyes. "Where is your body?"
Now I was even more confused. I hadn't told them about my magic, or why I had moved to
Arizona. So how would she know I was using magic to find her? Did that knowledge come after death?
"He's in our bedroom, I'll bet," Grandpa said. "Healthy as an ox."
I looked at him and nodded. "How did you know?"
Grandma looked relieved, checking me out as if I were a side of beef.
"Your finding spell is thin and unpracticed," she said. "That's how he knew."
 Grandpa laughed and nodded.
"I can see it around the edges, dear," Grandma said to me, patting my hand. "That's all right, you'll
get better."
Grandpa laughed. "And only an apprentice would use a finding spell to look for a dead person. I
don't want to have your headache when you get back."
I stared at him, stunned at the words he had just said. Not only were they amazing, but it was the
longest sentence I had heard him speak in twenty years.
"This is the first time he has ever tried this," Dirk said.