Mr. Symarian spoke softly to Jenny. “None of us can speak to him but you. This part of the journey must be yours alone.”
Jenny felt more than a little intimidated, but she knew she must face the spectral creature. “Who are you?” she asked, not really sure whether she wanted to know the response.
“That is a very difficult question to answer. I am not sure the concepts would make sense to you. But know that I am not from your time, not from time itself. It is quite difficult for me to cross this bridge, to … speak with you.”
Jenny forged ahead. “What do you want with my grandmother?”
“I am drawn to her beauty, for beauty — not just outer beauty, but the inner light itself — is a thing outside of time. I was drawn to this light within Amelia. I do not know, even now, whether she was aware of it herself. But I was drawn to it as a moth is drawn to a flame. And in my way, I have tried to preserve this light.”
“By keeping her asleep?”
“By keeping her out of time. For time is the destroyer.”
“Time,” Jenny said, “is where we live.”