The WishKeeper (The Paragonia Chronicles) (27 page)

As she knelt, staring at the ground, the hairs on the back of her neck slowly stood on end. A quiver of goose bumps sped down her spine and she thought of Elanor. Elanor. A light that had been doused was suddenly lit again, but as the wave of emotion swept over her, so did the fog. Like water to a drain, it swirled as if it had been waiting for her and swallowed any tender reminder of the pink-haired fairy that was trying to escape.

“No. Please,” something, or someone, inside of Avery begged. It was a voice she hadn’t heard for years, but something more resilient resisted it and forced it back down into its skinny, heart-encasing tomb. A rush of hatred bubbled inside of her, replacing the soft, desperate voice. Instead, flashes of Elanor crossed her memory and all she could see were images of her holding Beren’s hand, kissing him, holding him, and looking him in the eyes with the love that was meant for her.

How dare Elanor cause her to feel such a thing? A thing that clashed hope with impossibility. Every ounce of Avery’s heart was embarrassed, terrified and desperate to hide such forbidden feelings - such feelings that only felt true and right and inevitable. But, no, instead she was doomed to long for the one thing she couldn’t have, nor could she tell anyone about it, or share how sad and lonely she felt with each new discovery of love and longing.

The hatred boiled inside of her as the fog circled her little body. It wasn’t fair. Her life wasn’t fair. To witness the essence of love, but be only able to watch it through cold, frosted glass, never to touch or feel or know what it’s like to have it embrace you and comfort you with its warmth.

She tried getting to her feet, but the swirling fog kept her gripping the grass, head down. Grunting through the revolving re-emergence of the curse, she gave in and wretched. Her back arched with every vomiting cough and with it spewed dusty remnants of the curse from her shoulders. Finally, the swirling fog calmed and left Avery gasping. But like the simple clicking of a light switch, she sat back on her ankles and slowly stood. Anger rushed through her like a relentless, cornered badger. She would die before she had to live another moment without the realization of her own, personal wish. And so her secret intention was set.

“Avery!” Beren’s voice called out through the fog. It was closer than before, though Avery didn’t react. Pulling her black hood over her head, she stared into the denseness of the fog. Had the day been clear and sun-filled, one would notice her eyes filling up with a black, oil-like substance, but as Beren and the team finally found her, the combination of her heavy hood and the covering darkness hid her curse-filled eyes.

“Avery, there you are,” Beren said, as she came into view. “I found her!” he called out. The rest of the team slowly made their way closer. Goren was the first to approach. With his hand outstretched, awaiting her to meet his, he was thrilled to see his friend and teammate. It was also an attempt at a thank you, but when Avery didn’t return the handshake, he quickly remembered how quiet his friend had always been.

“Fine then,” he said, as he set his hands to his waist. “I’m still glad to see you, despite your inability to accept common courtesy. Or a thank you, for that matter.” A smile curled his lips and like a mime, Avery did the same.

Her hand slowly took hold of Goren’s forearm and for a moment, Goren felt an urge to pull back, but he fought the silly notion. He had never been afraid of her before and assumed it was simply the depressive nature of the situation that sent a shiver of sudden worry through him. She lightly squeezed his arm and Goren took it to be a sign of affection, or at least some form of ‘you’re welcome’. It was good enough for him.

“You OK?” asked Elanor. Avery cocked her head and looked at the limping, pained, broken-winged fairy as if a sudden memory was trying to flirt with her mind. It quickly dissipated and she nodded.

Even though the fog was thick and her hood hung low over Avery’s forehead, Elanor felt something was off. Avery had showed compassion, at least in some way, when she helped her find Shea, and though the darkness of the woods cast a natural gloom, Avery was different. Like Goren though, Elanor cast the thought aside and repositioned herself, cringing at the pain at her side. Despite everything, her ribs were still broken and not much was going to help the pain.

“Dad, I need some answers,” Shea broke in. It was quite a statement of demand and cut through the thickness of the air like a knife. It took Beren off guard, especially since Shea was suddenly ignoring the fact that they finally found their lost teammate. He couldn’t help but smile at his daughter’s quick ‘back to business’ mentality.

“Oh? And what answers would you request, my dear?” he winked at Shea which helped calm her a bit.

“I’m just…where is Thane? Grayson and Miranda? The fog? What do we do next? Everything!” she exclaimed. Her last word was a bit dramatic, though Goren and Foster nodded along. What was next? Now what?

“Avery, I’m glad you’re OK, but we need to move. And fast,” Shea said, looking at her father. Her dad nodded. There wasn’t time for greetings or melancholy glances into the thick of the vanishing Paragonian woods. They needed to find Erebus and stop him. Simple enough plan, but the ‘how’ was a bit trickier.

“Like I said before. When I went back to the house, it looked like a tornado hit it. Grayson and Miranda were gone. So was Thane.”

Elanor sighed. “It’s not like the other wishes where he can just take them over. It’s true love. A bit stronger than a simple wish for a new bike.

“But…Thane too?” Shea asked, not understanding. “Why would he need…?” Shea was suddenly cut off. Avery finally chimed in.

“He doesn’t need Thane,” she said, ominous. “Not for the wish, anyway.” Her voice was deeper than before and as she spoke, she kept her eyes out of sight. “He needs the WishKeeper.”

They all looked at each other, but only Elanor understood. Avery cocked her head up a bit, and Elanor looked at her knowing she was right. Shea could see it in her mother’s eyes that what Avery was saying made sense to her mom. She grabbed her arm and tugged.

“Mom? What is she saying?” she begged. No one said a word and Shea couldn’t handle the silence. “Someone tell me what’s going on!”

“In order for him to consume the wish, he needs the WishMakers and WishKeepers. The power within all four,” she looked at Beren when she said this. “It will give him enough power to consume it and enough strength to harness it.”

“Well then we don’t go! We leave him waiting there. If he needs us so badly, we -,” Avery cut her off again.

“He will kill Thane. He won’t hesitate. He will kill him, toss his lifeless body away like sewage, and move on to the next. The forest is filled with plenty of victims. Thane is nothing more than bait,” Avery said, and a hint of a smile creased her lips. The lights of the fairy homes in the forest across the valley were not visible through the fog, but they knew what Avery was referencing. Erebus would run through the fairies one by one until they gave him what he needed. Avery was right. He wouldn’t hesitate.

Elanor suddenly buckled over, crying out as if someone was torturing her. She fell to her knees, and like Avery before, she wretched, coughing, sputtering desperate cries with each heave.

“Mom!” Shea tried reaching, but Beren swiftly caught her, pulling her away. He fell to her side, but as he put his hand on her back, black dust fell from Elanor’s shoulders. He recoiled.

“Beren,” Elanor coughed. She looked up at him and he could see her eyes swirling with the cursed darkness.

“Dad? Mom, what is…?” Shea tried to push past her dad, but he wouldn’t let her get near.

Elanor wretched again in agony and more of the curse fell from her shoulders. Beren slowly leaned and hunched over her, his face mere inches from Elanor’s. Despite the oily blackness swirling in her eyes, he stared at her, begging her not to lose focus.

“Look at me,” he said, but she couldn’t fight the pain and looked away. “Look at me!” he yelled. His wife was leaving him and he couldn’t let it happen again. “We’re right here. You understand me? You and me,” he said, pointing his fingers at his eyes. “And here. Always,” he said softly as he put his hand to his heart.

Shea watched, staggering with confusion and fear. It was awful seeing her parents like this, and even worse that she was helpless. Her father was begging and her mother was dying. Nothing could match the fear of a helpless heart, but she wasn’t about to just stand back and watch. Just as she was fighting the urge to pull her mother off the ground and yell at her for being like this - for being weak and even worse, for scaring her so badly - Elanor stopped coughing.

Beren and Elanor stared at each other and even though it didn’t lift the fog, or clear her eyes or erase any amount of pain in her body, it kept whatever dim flame was left in her still lit and faintly burning. She leaned back and hiccupped through catching breaths. While her eyes weren’t completely black, they were not the eyes Shea remembered seeing in the forest earlier. Her mother was holding on by a thin, black thread.

It started as a faint plea as it groped at her lungs, but Shea finally grabbed the scream and released it. She was past the point of desperation.

“Do something!” she screamed, angry, beaten and begging. It was a plea for everyone around her to keep her mom there. To keep her in front of her. To keep her from vanishing and leaving all over again. It broke the silence like the crack of a whip. Foster’s shoulders jumped, reacting to the little fairy’s scream. “Please,” she said, as the tears flooded her eyes.

“We bring him what he wants,” Avery said. There was no emotion inside her, or in the words she coolly presented them. It was matter-of-fact and not necessarily in answer to Shea’s plea. She was simply telling them exactly what they needed to do, unbiased, or so it seemed.

Shea was surprised to see her father turn and look at her instead of Avery. After all, it was Avery who just spoke and gave an answer. She knew her dad was thinking the same thing she was - do something, anything. He’d been trying to do something every day for the past ten years and there was yet to be any kind of true answer. Beren was looking at his daughter not to comfort her, but to ask permission. He was asking her to be the decision-maker. To ask permission to die.

“No,” was all Shea could mutter. It was a soft release of breath more than an actual word and more out of disbelief that such a thought could surface. Despite all that had happened and every mistake she had ever made, somehow her family was here, directly in front of her. Maybe it wasn’t the kind of happiness of which she dreamed or the kind of togetherness her naïve little soul would conjure late at night, fighting sleep and the repeating nightmares, but by some impossibility, her mom and dad were back together and as her eyes danced back and forth between them, nothing, not even the end of the world, would tear them from her again. It was a vice-grip hold she had on such hope and even if there was a futility to it, her hope to keep it this way was all she had left.

Turning to Avery, her dark cloak and hood virtually blending like camouflage in the fog, Shea, much to the shock of Goren and Foster, repeated what Avery said.

“We give Erebus what he wants.”

A curled smile spread across Avery’s lips as she watched the heroic little fairy agree with her. Goren and Foster shuffled their feet, wanting to disagree, but Shea wasn’t done.

“We give him what he wants, but we take back what belongs to us. You don’t have permission to die,” she looked back at her dad. He had never seen such resolve, such intent, emanate from his daughter before and Shea’s blind hope was uncontrollably contagious. He nodded and stared back, knowing that it was more than just a hopeful statement she was making. It was a plan.

“We’ll give him his WishKeepers. Elanor,” he said, turning to his exhausted wife. “He’ll be glad to have his Captain back, but we need to you to hold on a little bit longer. Let him think you’ve turned.” He pointed his wand at his wrists and wrapped a thick, grey-streamed spell around them. Handcuffs. Elanor glared at his husband, took his wand and slowly nodded. “When the time is right, if you can hold the darkness at bay for a little while longer, we will take back what is ours.”

Shea smiled and quickly nodded in agreement. While the plan meant putting her parents in the line of fire, she finally saw hope rise up and out of them again. It was a heavy hope. Not the resounding of hope kind that jarred loose flimsy fears, but hope nonetheless. It was good enough.

“Goren and Foster. Avery,” Shea said, addressing her teammates. “Go to the Nursery and find as many wishes as you can. The fog couldn’t have consumed all of them. Those little buggars are pretty resilient. Bring them to Exclamation Point, just beneath the tip of the cliff. We need as much light as possible - it worked before. At least enough to give us time. I’ll meet you there.”

The salute Goren and Foster gave her didn’t feel forced or fake. As she watched their hands fall back to their sides, an unfamiliar feeling of trust and strength burned in her stomach. They were listening to her. They agreed with her and most of all, they accepted her as not only an equal, but someone worthy of giving orders. For a moment, Shea felt that a part of her life was suddenly complete and as they darted off into the thick black fog, she was surprised at her ability to suppress her rising ego. There was still work left to do.

Avery hadn’t followed Goren and Foster into the darkness. She remained, statuesque in the fog, staring at Shea. Her face was expressionless, thoughtless and for a second, Shea thought she was disobeying orders. A familiar sense of self-consciousness rushed through her. Maybe she wasn’t so confident in her ability to give orders. Who was she to do so, anyway? Finally, Avery smiled again, but it wasn’t one of comfort or acceptance and as she floated into the fog, Shea fought the sudden strangeness. The smile was as if Avery knew something Shea didn’t, but it was, nonetheless, the outset of a mission and she was thankful they were listening to her at all.

Shea approached her parents and released a deep breath. A long, quiet glance turned into proud smiles as Elanor and Beren nodded, approvingly. There were so many years of brief conversations about their restless and rebellious daughter in between broken moments of Elanor’s curse. Though they would discuss their sickening guilt over what happened and what they had kept secret from her for so long, they knew that even though those broken moments may soon be few and far between, their daughter just grew up right before their eyes. In a quick flash they both hoped and wished and dreamed they would someday be able to have a conversation again about their daughter, and instead discuss how extremely proud of her they are.