“That’s almost exactly what I said.” George laughed quietly.
He stood up and led his grandmother back to the table. “Stop fussing at the stove for a moment.”
When they were both seated, he reached for the horned man, grateful that the kitchen was large but mindful of the lights in the ceiling.
His grandparents caught their breath, and Georgia reached for her husband’s hand. She raised her free hand to her cheek as her eyes widened.
He was afraid of scaring them worse, and so stood motionless, letting them take a good long look. Then he turned slowly all the way around for them.
“There’s more,” he said, in his deep, alien voice.
His grandfather swallowed. “Continue.”
He pulled up the form of Cernunnos. He was thankful that there was no sense of his personality to complicate things.
