The WishKeeper (The Paragonia Chronicles) (13 page)

Winston let out a great snore, popping the Gate open for a prolonged second. “That one might have worked,” Thane said casually. They met eyes again as Shea dabbed the cloth around his nose.

“What can you tell me about these Lost Fairies, anyway?” Shea asked as she quickly put the cloth back into her bag. There was too much of a connection between their eyes. Shea had a mission to complete.

“What happened to ‘I’m not worried’?” Thane mocked.

“I’m not. It’s just strange they wouldn’t come back, is all.”

“My Gramms says they’re WishKeepers trapped on The Other Side and Erebus now controls them. But she also thinks gnomes are spying on her when she eats, so…”

“Why don’t you ever talk about your parents? You always just mention your grandma.” Winston let out another snot-filled roar, popping the Gate open and closed.

“They were WishKeepers. Went to The Other Side one day and, well, they’re not here anymore.” It was years ago and Thane had accepted the loss of his parents. It was difficult to think of what kind of zombie-like state they might be in. He secretly hoped they had been killed, but of course he never shared that with anyone. It was upsetting enough not having them around, but to think they were still alive and somehow trapped was even worse.

Finally meeting his eyes again, Shea looked and was surprised to see that even though they were deep in thought, his eyes weren’t crying or filled with rage or anger. They were just thinking. This made her mad, though she couldn’t exactly explain why. Realizing that she had more in common with Thane than expected may have been part of why this angered her. She couldn’t muster much of a reply other than, “Sorry”. As the word came out, she knew that she meant it. She knew that Thane was tied to her in some way and as much as she didn’t want to accept anyone’s help, she was glad he was with her.

“I believe in what you’re doing, you know. Even though it’s for different reasons, that wish shouldn’t be destroyed,” Thane said.

“Different reasons?”

“You’re not the only one who’s affected by this. There’s more than just a wish at stake here.”

He was right, but Shea hated to admit it, even just to herself. It was still her wish though, and her need to grant it was just as important as any other need, right?

Thane wiped his nose and sniffed. The bleeding had stopped. He stood and stared at their sleeping GateKeeper companion. Winston was just as peaceful as when they first arrived. Little whistles of snores chirped from his vibrating lips as Thane, with his hands at his hips, mustered a plan.

He picked up the leaf again, “You might have had the right idea before. What makes someone snore? They can’t breathe, right?”

“We’re not suffocating a GateKeeper, Thane,” Shea replied, already put-off by any scheme he might have.

“Of course not, but what if we help him breathe?”

“Then he wouldn’t snore anymore and obviously the snore is what opens the gate!”

“Yeah but…” Thane slowly crept to the old fairy, dangling the leaf over Winston’s face. Ever so gently, Thane tickled his nose. Tickle. Tickle. SNORE! It was the biggest one yet and exploded the Gate wide open. Quickly, Thane grabbed Winston’s arms, pulled them up over his head and repositioned the ancient fairy on his back.

The Gate stayed open. “He just needed a more comfortable position,” Thane said, smiling at Shea.

“Thane! You actually did something right!” she punched him on the shoulder. The white light of the Gate shined in their eyes, taunting them to jump through. Shea picked up her pack, flung it over her shoulder and slowly joined Thane at the precipice of the opened Gate.

Without looking at Thane and keeping her wide eyes on the unknown depths of the vibrating light, she softly placed her hand in his. It was big, oddly soft and dwarfed her own, swallowing her little hand up, and there was a sudden feeling of proper placement. As if her hand was meant to fit in his. The tight squeeze she gave felt natural. For the first time since she could remember, she felt she was exactly where she needed to be. It was strange how easy it was to hold his hand. The acceptance. When he squeezed back…if she thought about it for too long, she might never leave.

“Let’s go,” he said.

With a few quick steps, they jumped.

Neon green spells lit up the darkness of The Other Side. They had jumped into a thick pocket of the woods among scrawny, leafless branches - and smack in the middle of a battle. Lost Fairies swarmed the area, flashing explosive spells at charging WishKeepers.

Unable to gather herself, Shea couldn’t latch a grappling spell as she careened toward the frozen winter ground. Disoriented, Thane knocked into random tree branches while trying to stay afloat. He caught a glimpse of Shea falling.

“Shea!” he screamed.

“Thane!” Shea screamed back just before she crashed to the ground. The impact knocked her out.

Panicked, Thane zipped through the debris of exploding spells, dodging the relentless fury of the Lost Fairies’ attacks. The WishKeepers were out-matched and out-numbered, but Thane didn’t care, he was only concerned with reaching Shea. Seeing her laying on the ground, her pack still tied to her back, her wand balancing in her limp hand. “Oh please. Please no,” Thane said as he dashed to her.

He lifted her into a sitting position and thankfully she let out a painful groan. “Hey! Get up! Shea, come on!”

An explosion overhead knocked two Keepers out of the sky. They fell hard to the ground, unconscious. He recognized one of them - Avery. Thane knew he couldn’t hesitate. Just as he tried to pick Shea up, a spell exploded against his chest, knocking him back, out cold.

“Thane!” Shea squeaked. Amid the chaos, Shea crawled to her friend and looked out at the battle around her. Lost Fairies propelled themselves through the air. Blast after blast as WishKeepers tackled them to the ground, spun and dodged incoming spells, and countered with blasts of their own.

“Now what?” But before the desperate thought could allow an answer, two Lost Fairies swooped down and landed in front of her. Wands pointed, they slowly stalked closer. Charging up, their wands sizzled with energy and aimed directly at Shea’s chest. Just before the wands could fire, the Lost Fairies were knocked to the ground, pushed by something - someone. It wasn’t a Keeper, but The Captain.

He towered over Shea like a threatening avalanche about to crumble. His pitch-black cloak covered him completely as he stared down at her. The wind rushed through the woods as Shea stared at him. The Captain held the gaze for longer than Shea expected and for a second, Shea didn’t know if he was going to make a move or not. As Shea reached for her wand, The Captain drew his. He aimed it at Shea with a steady hand, charging it up. Even though Shea couldn’t see through the darkness of The Captain’s hood, she felt that he was dealing with an unexpected hesitation and questioning whether or not the shot should be taken.

BLAST! Breaking Shea from her stare, a spell exploded against The Captain’s chest and blew him back. He fell hard to the ground. Shea looked behind her and Avery was sitting up, wand pointed with a wisp of smoke rising from the end of it.

Before Shea could scream or even breathe, she noticed the look on Avery’s face wasn’t that of triumph, but instead confusion and horror.

Shea looked back at the fallen Captain, where Avery was still staring. The Captain’s hood had fallen back off of his head. He shook off the blast, and Shea met eyes with her enemy.

Elanor. Her long red hair whipped in the winter wind. A heavy gash of a scar crossed her face, and her eyes - they were blacker than her cloak. She sat up and looked at Shea.

“Mom!” Was this real? It was the last image Shea remembered seeing - her mother’s scarred face and deep black eyes staring at her. Two spells blasted Shea and Avery back, leaving her unconscious and Avery writhing in pain. Two Lost Fairies rushed Shea, picked her up and escaped.

Elanor stood, placed the black hood over her head, paused and looked at Avery dazed on the ground. There was barely a glimmer of recognition from Elanor, but despite the pain from the wand blast and before she passed out, Avery whispered, “Elanor”. Like their first meeting, Elanor, cruel, ignored her and hurried off.

19

The Promise

The last time Beren said goodbye to Elanor, wind battered his face as he dashed through a damp, dark alley on The Other Side. He was chasing something and as he emerged from the alleyway, he paused in the middle of the empty small town. Abdera’s brick road main street glistened from a recent autumn rain. Wet, brown leaves stuck to the gutters of the quiet street and Beren hovered without concern for being spotted. The town was well on its way to decay and by this time, six years after the destruction of Grayson and Miranda’s wish, it was already a virtual ghost town.

Desperately searching for whatever he was chasing, he spun around, looking both ways until, there! Just past the five and dime store and headed toward the water tower park was a black flash of dust swinging into a tree. Zipping off like a bullet, Beren followed.

The water tower stood like a watchman within the center of the park as Beren flew into one of the evergreens. Catching his breath, he searched the other trees for whomever he was tailing. A cool November breeze rustled the trees as he pulled back a few needles to get a better view, but just as he was about to launch, the end of a crossbow dug into his back.

Beren didn’t flinch. He knew who it was. Raising his hands up as if to surrender, Beren paused for a moment, took a deep breath and then quickly spun, grabbed the crossbow from The Captain’s hands and tossed it to the ground, disarming her. The Captain quickly reached for her wand, but Beren was faster. He exploded a powerful bright spell at her feet, and knocked her out of the tree.

Elanor’s hood had fallen back, revealing her scarred face and thick red hair. She was dazed, but not unconscious. Beren quickly flew down, picked her up and rushed out of the park.

Finally settling within a maple at the end of the cul-du-sac, he placed her softly on a branch and looked down. Below them Miranda and Grayson were sharing a bench - Grayson sketching and Miranda sitting quietly. He knew they would be there at the end of their cul-du-sac. It’s their street lamp, after all. Beren caressed Elanor’s face as she slowly woke up.

“Ellie…Ellie…?” Beren pulled his hand back as she groaned. Quickly reaching for his sheathed wand, he wasn’t sure if the blast had done the trick. Was it his wife, or was it The Captain?

Elanor opened her eyes. Like a retreating storm, they swirled with a hurricane of black fog. She was waking up, but fighting the release of whatever curse was controlling her. She looked at Beren, clenched her jaw and snatched the wand from her side. Though weakened, she sprung to her feet and fired a spell at Beren. He blocked it with a counter of his own, dashed behind her, grabbing and locking her arms.

“Look! Look at them! You know who they are. You know!” Beren wrestled to keep her still. He was referring to Miranda and Grayson and though Elanor looked down, it didn’t seem to faze her - she tried ripping away from his grip.

“You know them, Ellie!” For a moment, she stopped struggling and stared at Grayson. “Your WishMaker. He belongs to you, the real you. And he needs you, honey. Please.”

Elanor always knew Grayson was special. She would giggle as her parents whispered to each other at night about how their son never cried or threw a tantrum, worried that something was wrong. She would watch his mother softly enter his room two or three times a night just to check if he was still breathing. As a teenager, Grayson kept Elanor extremely busy with Athletic Wishes since he didn’t fit in very well at school, but once he began spending more time with Miranda, his wishes became consistent Purities. She loved the boy that never cried and as she stared at Grayson sketching, ignoring the love of his life, something awoke inside her. Her eyes stopped swirling with fog and instead filled with tears.

“And you know me. It’s me, Ellie. Your Beren.” He whispered through tears of his own, desperate to wake her. She slowly turned around. Her quivering hands touched his cheeks and she stared into his eyes as if waking from a nightmare. Her eyes were clear of the fog, for now.

She grabbed her husband in a tight hug. “Beren…Beren, please.”

“I’m here. I’m here,” he said. “Come on. We have to go.” He tried letting go, but Elanor wouldn’t. She held on to him knowing this could be the last time she ever woke up.

“Beren…you have to stop.”

Slowly pulling away, Beren searched her eyes. “Stop?”

Beren had been coming to The Other Side, relentless in his attempt to free Elanor from her curse, for six years. Six years of desperately fighting and losing battle after battle. It was only a year prior when he accidentally and momentarily woke her from her state by exploding a bright light around her. Ever since, he had returned every day trying the same tactic. The time he would get with her would be brief, but it was all he could think about and he wasn’t going to stop until he broke it for good.

“I can’t stop, Ellie. It’s weakening! Every time you wake up, the fog retreats for a little while longer than the last. It’s going away, Ellie. If we can just get you -,” Elanor quickly cut him off.

“No more, Beren! It’s too painful. Knowing that I’ll only turn back and forget all over again.”

“You’d rather forget completely? To live in this fog? This evil?” Beren was tired of this conversation. Every time Elanor woke up, she begged Beren to leave her. He was tired of trying to convince her, but he refused to let up.

Elanor rubbed her temples in pain. Even though the fog was lifted, the headaches would never go away. She sighed and sat on the branch, staring down on Miranda and Grayson. “Shea?” Elanor asked.

Sitting down next to her, he was able to relax for a bit. Albeit they usually covered some kind of trouble she was in, their conversations about their daughter were a welcomed reprieve to fighting this blasted curse.