The WishKeeper (The Paragonia Chronicles) (12 page)

“It’s probably the last day we’ll be able to come out here for a while. Before the cold comes, I mean. I know how much you like it. I don’t mind staying,” she said as she sat back against the bench and pulled her legs tight to her chest trying to gather a little warmth.

Grayson looked at her squeezing her legs. “Miranda, you’re freezing. I drag you out here every week. You don’t have to stay.” He went back to his notepad and continued sketching.

The sun was ending its path across the sky and behind them a street lamp blinked to life. Miranda looked up at it. There on the bench where they first kissed, the street lamp used to signal that their time was up. They used to react like clockwork to the lamp without saying a word, take each other’s hand and walk back to the house. This time Grayson was telling her to head back without her. Was that the memory they were forgetting? Was their time up?

Nodding her head, she slowly stood and tucked her cold hands in her coat pockets. “Yeah, I guess it is getting a little chilly. Anything you want for dinner?”

“You don’t have to make anything. I might take a walk in a bit, so I’ll just stop down at the store and grab something. But thanks,” he said, finishing with a slight smile.

She nodded again and was about to lean in to kiss him on the cheek, but her feet wouldn’t move her forward. Swaying for a bit, she stepped back, “OK. I’ll see you at home.”

“OK,” he replied, and continued to sketch.

Miranda walked away, crunching the leaves beneath her. He pulled his eyes away from the notebook and slowly turned to watch his wife make her way to the sidewalk. He knew that there should have been a feeling - of any kind - rekindled within him as he watched her walk alone under their street lamp, but there was nothing. She shouldn’t be walking alone, he knew this, but why didn’t he get up? Why didn’t he follow?

Within the maple, Beren huddled behind a branch, watching. Though his eyes weren’t filled with tears, there was anguish in them. Pain. Frustration. His emotions were too connected to understanding what was going on between Miranda and Grayson and, more importantly, why. It was six years since he had lost Elanor and it was six years since their wish was destroyed.

Unable to watch, he leaned his wand against the bark of the tree. A Gate quickly flashed open. The cold wind was beginning to take over the park, and he couldn’t witness the slow expiration of his WishMaker’s true love.

The flash of the Gate vanished as Beren stepped through, but Grayson looked up into the tree. Did he notice something? It was probably just a trick of the eyes. Diving back into his sketch, he continued without a second thought.

18

A Flash In The Dark

Trudging through the thick valley grass and repositioning her well-packed bag over her shoulder, Shea made her way to the edge of the Paragonian forest. She saw Thane pacing underneath a withering old oak with roots that reached out a few twisted feet toward the brink of the valley. This side of the valley was in danger of vanishing all together. The borders used to span several miles to the north, but now only a mere quarter mile away, their bittersweet realm was disappearing. The ancient oak was simply waiting to fade away.

Her nervous friend had not yet noticed her approach. “Friend?” Shea thought. “Why is he doing this? Is he really just following orders? He’s kind of funny when he gets nervous.” Shea quickly halted, took a deep breath and tried to regain her composure. “This is for real, Shea. Get yourself together,” she said out loud to herself as if a pep talk was needed to get her into the right frame of mind.

Thane noticed Shea standing there and most likely that little bit where she was talking to herself. This prompted her to straighten her skirt, stand up straight and march toward him.

“Great. So we’ll get you debriefed,” Thane started, but Shea had an agenda and she wasn’t going to let him run this show.

“Let’s get a few things straight. Just because I’m letting you help, doesn’t mean I need it. Once we get to The Other Side, it’s up to you if you want to stick around. And if you say one thing about my wings, I’ll make your giant nose even more crooked than it already is. Got it?” she said in one quick breath.

Touching his nose, “It’s crooked?”

“Are you going to debrief me, or what?” Shea demanded, still in business mode.

“If you’re gonna have an attitude, I’ll let you figure out how to cross over without me,” Thane was willing to banter, but he wasn’t willing to give up control just yet.

Shea readjusted her pack again. “Fine. Sorry. Go ahead.”

“Apology accepted. Barely. Now listen closely,” Thane looked at the parchment Avery gave to him. He already knew the rules by heart, but it helped to reference notes, if only to avoid a glare from Shea. “Keepers cannot allow Makers to see them, they cannot come in physical contact with Makers and do not, by any means, interact with or speak to any Makers.”

“OK, I get it. Makers are off limits,” Shea returned, wanting him to go on.

“A wish will always remain close to its Maker and once the wish is secure, immediately find a gate and return home,” Thane continued to read. “The wish is immediately brought to Exclamation Point for inspection then placed within the Nursery for monitoring.”

“OK. What else?”

“What else? Other than Lost Fairies and Erebus killing Keepers and eating wishes? That’s about it,” Thane said, and even though he was saying it sarcastically, he was serious.

“I’m not worried about Lost Fairies.”

“You should be,” warned Thane.

Trying to ignore his comment, Shea looked up into the tree. It was massive, well over one hundred years old and dwarfed Thane and Shea as they stood among its gnarled roots. Another deep breath rolled out of Shea as she stared up into the leafless tree.

“So, you’re sure about this?” asked Thane, giving her one last chance to bail.

The red-haired fairy just smirked, raised her wand and fired a hot grappling spell up into the tree. Thane shook his head with a smirk of his own and launched himself after her.

They both landed on a thick branch. Its bark had been gnawed and pecked by some kind of a hard-nosed bird, most likely a woodpecker. A hollowed out, empty nest rested at the crook of the branch and trunk. Casually sitting against it with his legs crossed, arms folded and eyes pleasantly shut, was the oldest fairy Shea had ever seen.

For as long as the Keepers have been guarding wishes, GateKeepers have been guarding the Gates that connected Paragonia to The Other Side. Before Erebus reigned as WishingKing, every tree in Paragonia connected with another in The Makers’ world. Be it a fir, maple, oak, evergreen, palm, apple or cranberry, the Keepers were free to cross over through any tree they liked. Because of the sheer number of possible Gates, the rank of GateKeeper was basically like that of a parking meter maid. It was the simplest form of military rank among the Keepers, but as the years passed, more and more Gates were shut. By the time Erebus betrayed his Keepers and the True Love Wish was destroyed, less than one thousand Gates were still active. Considering the scope of The Other Side and the need of the WishMakers, the dwindling number of Gates made WishGathering that much more difficult.

Most GateKeepers were forced to find other work and thus left the Keeper force altogether. A new force of GateKeepers was needed to guard the Gates due to the ever growing danger and threat that spread throughout The Other Side. They were shutting out the very world they depended on, but what choice did they have? Erebus was growing in power and if he was able to break back into Paragonia and cease the wishes that were awaiting fulfillment, it would be a very quick end to the Keepers and any chance of a WishMaker’s wish ever coming true. Their bigger worry was the power of Exclamation Point. It was the lifeblood of their realm and like any power it could be harnessed for all the wrong reasons.

Winston was a grandfathered GateKeeper. His father and his father’s father before him were GateKeepers and at one time, Winston was the most skilled of them all. Beren kept him on more as a relic, but his Gate was never used. A GateKeepers’ true skill was in their ability to gather news and reports and Winston knew it all. That is, if he ever woke up.

Thane and Shea stared at Winston as he slept. His beard covered him like a blanket; a ratted up old driver’s cap sat sideways over his left eye, and his chest rose and fell as soft as a breeze.

“Winston, I presume?” Shea asked.

“Winston’s the oldest GateKeeper in Paragonia. I used to come up here when I was little and he’d tell me stories of The Other Side. Now he just kinda sleeps all day.”

“So…what do we do?” asked Shea, not understanding why Thane brought her to see the oldest of old GateKeepers.

“We wait,” Thane said, as if Shea should have known this already.

“Wait for what?”

“Well, there’s a reason no one uses his gate anymore.”

Winston let out a great, soggy, snorting snore like a buzz saw and very suddenly the side of the oak tree opened. A Gate quickly appeared and then just as quickly disappeared as Winston ended his fat snore.

“See?” said Thane.

“See what? The gate opened for a second.”

“He has a tendency to snore the gate open. It doesn’t stay open for very long though, but every now and then…”

“Are you serious? This is your plan? To wait for the old fairy to randomly open the gate?”

Setting his hands at his waist, he replied, “With no help from you, I’m not a Keeper yet. Non-Keepers aren’t able to open gates. So what do you propose we do?”

Shea’s annoyed sigh was almost as loud as Winston’s snore. The Gate opened and closed again with a flash.

“If we treat it like a game, like a timing thing, we just might be able to -,” Thane started, but Shea wasn’t in a waiting kind of mood.

“This is ridiculous.” She ripped a dead leaf from a nearby branch and tip toed to the sleeping Winston.

“Don’t wake him up! I’m already in deep enough helping you cross over. Last thing I need is a GateKeeper reporting back to headquarters.”

“Just shush,” she whispered as she crept over and reached the tip of the leaf toward Winston’s nose. It was tricky aiming the pointed end of such a large leaf without simply mashing it against the sleeping fairy’s face, but she managed to tickle his nose.

SNORE! Winston let out a long-winded, raspy, snot-filled snore. The Gate flashed open and Shea quickly dropped the leaf, grabbed Thane’s arm and pulled.

“Go!” she yelled as they rushed toward the Gate.

They met nothing but thick, brown bark and smacked their faces against the tree. Dazed, they stumbled back. Thane fell and sat, holding a bloody nose.

“Ow.”

Maybe the timing game wasn’t going to work after all.

*       *       *       *

At the other end of the forest, Beren paced in front of his chosen members of The Hope. Among the dozen troops, Goren’s robes were pristine as he proudly awaited orders. Foster’s bright blue tunic matched the color of his intense, confident eyes. The setting sun streamed its light through a massive white birch tree. Shafts of the golden light cast long, skinny black shadows across the branches. It was a day Beren would rather forget, but he knew more were ahead of him that he feared would only be worse.

The WishKeepers were standing at attention, each holding mini-WishRadar devices that tracked the Makers on The Other Side. The mobile radars blinked in unison as Beren stopped pacing and addressed his troops. Avery stood, arms crossed at her chest with her black, hooded cloak pulled over her head. Though her face was all but masked by the heavy hood, her thick, deep eyes were fixed on Beren. Her demeanor was one of nonchalant indifference, but her eyes studied her General as he paced.

“Erebus guards the gates, but it’s a good possibility he has all of his forces out searching for the TLW. Regardless, upon entry, be wand ready. Your WishRadars will lead you to the Makers.”

He took a second to look each of his Keepers in the eye. The mission had already been addressed, explained and scrutinized enough. There was no need to review. They knew what was at stake, and what had to be done. Even more, they knew what they were up against. A long, hard stare darted between Beren and Avery. The General respected the WishKeeper’s intensity, which was one of the reasons he selected her for this mission, but this was a different stare. An unexpected irreverence that was quite uncommon, even from stone cold Avery.

“Let’s go,” Beren said, still studying Avery’s eyes.

The General turned to a nearby GateKeeper. He was as ancient as the woods, wearing a long blue robe, perfectly kept white hair and sharp, pointed wings. He stood perfectly still, eyes closed, eventually drawing two wands out from under his robe and motioned from left to right as if he was pulling back an invisible drape. The Gate shined a bright white light, drowning out the golden light of the sun.

One by one, the Keepers filed through. Beren was all that was left. He nodded to the GateKeeper and took a step toward the Gate. Pausing for a moment, Beren looked out at the peaceful Valley behind him. The twinkle of a few early evening stars sparkled on the horizon and the General couldn’t help but wish Shea was there to see him off. It was a futile search, but his eyes surveyed the valley for any sign of his daughter. He took a deep breath, nodded again to the GateKeeper and stepped through.

*       *       *       *

The sun was behind the valley mountain range as Shea and Thane sat along Winston’s branch. Not much had changed, though Thane’s bleeding nose was clearing up. Blotting it lightly with a cloth, Shea sat cross-legged in front of her wounded friend.

“His nose isn’t that big,” she thought. “He’s kinda cute, I guess. Oh stop it, Shea, he’s here just because he wants his stupid Keeper wings.” Her inner dialogue was loud enough for Thane to notice. He smiled when she looked in his eyes, and a bit more when she quickly looked away.