Jason checked the date: thirty years ago.
He buried his head in his hands. Enough. He’d been reluctant to involve the department, but if he hoped to find more about Kailani, he’d need access to their contacts at the land bridge. He addressed an envelope to Chief Examiner Carlson and began to compose a letter.
Mr. Carlson, I need your help. While Kailani is doing well, I’m concerned about some of the reactions she’s stirring up at the farm. If only we could find a way to send her home, I know she’d be better off than here. I’ve exhausted my resources trying to learn more about her, and she still won’t tell us anything.
Could you please—
A scuff of boots in the hall outside the office made him stop. He darkened the screen and flipped the letter over. When he swiveled around, he found Benjamin lurking in the doorway.
“What are you doing here so late, Jason?” the little man said in his nasal whine.
“Polytech work.”
“Looked like you were writing a letter. Was it about Kailani?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Perhaps you’ll be more willing to discuss it in the morning.” Benjamin spoke the words quietly and turned to leave.
Jason caught up with him, grabbed him by the elbow, and spun him around. He towered over the smaller man, and his free hand was balled into fist. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’m warning you. Leave Kailani alone.”
A quiver racked the little man’s body as his muscles tensed and released.
Jason wished Benjamin would argue or break into a rage.
Instead, he made his little bow and said, “As you wish.” Then he pulled away and slipped out the door.
***
Carlson smiled when he saw the two letters from the Northern Kingdom, more news about his favorite refugee. He opened Helena’s first.
She’d promised weekly updates and had been true to her word. Kailani was doing well, she said, better adjusted and happier every day. Taking her to the farm had been the right decision. She was hopeful all would end well with the tribunal.
Then he opened Jason’s letter... and sighed deeply.
It seemed Jason saw the world differently. Yes, Kailani was doing well, but he worried how some of the farm members were reacting to her. And though she still refused to tell anything about her past, a lingering sadness made him believe she missed her home. What if a loving family were searching for her? He needed to know. The letter continued:
Could you please reach out to whatever contacts you might have at the land bridge? Nothing complicated, just a request for information about a missing nine-year-old with blue eyes and blond hair who’d have left the Blessed Lands in midsummer and answers to the name Kailani. I’m certain that if a loving family exists, the request will find its way.
Carlson sighed again. He’d already searched to no avail. The Blessed Lands were less well organized than Jason seemed to believe, and the zealots were more apt to obstruct than to share.
What was the point of stirring the embers? Both Jason and Helena agreed that Kailani was adjusting to her new life, and sending her back went against everything Carlson believed in. He’d heard stories from other refugees about life on the other side—rigid laws, harsh punishments, limits on personal growth.
Such a beautiful child deserved a full life in a free society. Sure, it might be rocky for now, typical for transmigrants, but she was young. She’d adapt.
He flipped through his calendar to the hearing date—the fifth of April—not so far away. He hoped the tribunal would place her permanently with Helena and Jason.
Leave her be until then. At a farm so far removed from the bustle of society, what could go wrong?
He was loath to lie to Jason, so he’d send a message to his representative at the land bridge, a request for information about a missing child—no description, no name, sent with the lowest priority. Their bureaucracy suffered the same inefficiencies as his own. The request would rattle around at the bottom of the organization, eventually to be filed and forgotten.
Chapter 23 – The Blessing of the Wind
The perfect weather made this the ideal day for the fall open house, when friends of the farm came to view the results of their generosity. A warm breeze, unusual for this late in the season, sent puffs of clouds gliding across the sky, and the peak foliage spread in full display.
For Helena, the changing of the seasons meant the passage of time, and with the tribunal approaching, time was not her friend.
She found scant minutes to spend with Jason. Benjamin burdened him with work as if doling out punishment, but even if she could have pried him away, she had little time to spare herself.
Sebastian had tasked Helena and her mother with designing harvest centerpieces for the tables at the reception. Starting a few days before, they’d set off with Kailani to search for plump pine cones and brightly colored leaves, those laced with the yellows, oranges, and reds of autumn. Yesterday, they’d sat around a craft bench weaving vines into wreaths and attaching the leaves and cones to the wreaths with glue.
Guests began to arrive by midafternoon, hours ahead of the evening reception, to participate in Sebastian’s tour. While they were gone, members of the farm carried tables from the dining room out onto the lawn in front of the great house. Once they’d covered the wood-grain tops with cloth, Helena and her mother set out their decorations. Stacks of plates, wine glasses and napkins followed.
After setting the tables, Helena’s mother whisked Kailani back to the cabins to get cleaned up. She’d spent the weeks prior to the open house making the girl a dress along with some ornamental jewelry. Both of them had teased Helena about the new outfit, refusing to let her see it before the reception. Helena marveled at the joy in her mother, the pleasure she took in doing simple things for Kailani.
This far north, so late in the season, nighttime came early. Farm members placed candles in colored lanterns hung from stakes set around the perimeter. Only after they were lit did she realize the sun had set. As night ascended, stars appeared one by one, and then the slimmest arc of the moon, transforming the lawn from a grassy field to a twilit garden.
As if on cue, Sebastian arrived leading a parade into the clearing, and called everyone to order.
“Honored guests,” he shouted, holding his hands out in greeting. “I’m pleased to announce we have record attendance this year. This is in no small part due to the efforts of our friends-of-the-farm coordinator, Benjamin Thorndike, and his new assistant, Jason Adams.”
Polite applause accompanied an occasional cheer. One woman at the back called out, “Which ones are they, Sebastian?”
The managing director scanned the crowd and pointed. “Over there. Benjamin’s the one on the porch steps with the camera, taking your pictures. And you can’t miss Jason. He’s the tallest here, but just in case, raise your hand, Jason.”
Helena watched, bemused, as Jason raised his hand. He seemed embarrassed, but she thought he was enjoying the celebrity.
Once Sebastian completed his welcome, the crowd headed for the food and drink, then milled around sipping apple wine and taking in the scene. Two farm members mounted the steps of the great house and began to play music on a penny whistle and violin, a lilting tune from a time when farmers would gather to celebrate the harvest. A few people came over to meet Benjamin and shake Jason’s hand.
Suddenly the chatter changed to hushed whispers.
On the path from the cabins, Kailani pranced along, almost preening as she went. She wore her new dress, a delicate white garment that seemed made of chiffon and hung loosely from her shoulders to below the knee. They’d cinched the waist with a red ribbon tied in a bow, reminiscent of Kailani’s department uniform but far more elaborate. In her hair, a string of aquamarine stars lay softly, and when she entered the circle of light cast by the candles, they sparkled.
Helena’s mother trailed behind like a maid-in-waiting.
The throng immediately tur
ned, forming a semicircle awaiting Kailani. Everyone seemed to know of the child from the Blessed Lands.
Helena tried to shield her from the crush of visitors, but Kailani waved her off. “It’s my duty to greet them all.” And with no hint of shyness, she began to hold court.
Gray-haired widows surrounded Kailani, hanging on her every word, while middle-aged men in tweed jackets tried to look dignified as the nine-year-old answered questions about the universe.
“My husband passed on last year,” one woman said. “What do you of the Blessed Lands believe happens when someone is gone?”
“We believe the Spirit is eternal.”
“But where does the Spirit go?”
“It doesn’t go anywhere. The Spirit remains everywhere at once. Nothing is lost.”
“Then may we communicate with a loved one who’s gone?”
“If you’re deserving. If you’ve been kind to them—or if not, if they’ve forgiven you.”
After each pronouncement, the audience oohed and aahed.
Helena was proud of Kailani but surprised. While her sullenness had eased in her time on the farm, now she sparkled, soaking in the attention as if it were ocean air.
Helena had become preoccupied with the performance and hardly noticed when her mother came jostling through the crowd. Finally, she burst between a smoking jacket and an exceedingly large woman to reach Kailani.
“Good evening, Kailani.” The charm she’d always been able to turn on when teaching class at the Polytech had returned.
“Hello, Miz Martha.” Kailani looked a little taken aback by the interruption, but recovered quickly, taking the older woman’s hand and beaming at the audience. “This is the lady who made me this dress and these stars.” She patted the stars in her hair, careful not to dislodge them.
“I have a question for you, Kailani,” Martha said. “Do you have music in the Blessed Lands?”
Kailani nodded yes.
“And do you dance to that music?”
“Sometimes.” She looked puzzled.
“Then come. Let’s you and I dance.”
Without waiting for a response, Helena’s mother dragged the little girl away from the crowd to the center of the lawn. Her posture straightened, then she grasped Kailani at the waist and swept her along to the music, as if she were made of the sparkles that reflected off the gems in her hair.
Kailani’s audience turned to watch the two dancers, leaving Helena on the outside looking in. The guests across the way turned as well, leaving Jason alone. Their eyes met, and he circled around and came toward her.
“She gathers in the light wherever she goes,” he said.
Helena took in the setting—the warm air, the candles in the twilight, Jason next to her. She should be content, but as her mother danced with Kailani, her mood darkened.
Jason took her hand and squeezed as if he’d sensed the change.
She glanced up to reset her thoughts. The puffs of white that dotted the evening sky had merged and swelled, conspiring in ominous clumps, a line moving in from the northeast. In the encroaching darkness, it was hard to tell if it was night arriving or the edge of a storm....
...until a gust turned the tablecloths to sails.
One of the centerpieces blew off and skittered across the lawn with Helena in pursuit. As she set it back in place, Sebastian rushed by and grabbed Jason by the arm.
“I don’t like the looks of that sky,” Sebastian said. “I’m going to run in and call the weather station. No sense putting out the main course just to move it back inside. Get ready to relocate the tables.”
Helena was glad he’d seen the same dark clouds as she had—it wasn’t her mood casting gloom upon the sky. She turned back to Jason.
He was staring at her. “What’s wrong?”
She laughed an awkward laugh. “You know me. I worry about things.”
“Like what?”
She glanced at the backs of the guests who’d formed a circle around her mother and Kailani. “Like how my mother’s so content making dresses and jewelry, and now beaming as she dances on the lawn. And how Kailani seems to be drifting away. And....”
She stopped before asking what she had no right to ask; he’d done all of this—came to the farm—for her.
“And what?” Jason said.
“And how you and I get so little time together.”
He glanced at the center of the lawn, his height allowing him to watch the dance.
She studied his profile for those few seconds, still the face of the boy she knew so long ago. She hoped they’d never be apart again.
He turned to her, put an arm around her and drew her close. For a moment, everything else disappeared—no farm, no crowd, no reason and no Spirit—and she felt—
Sebastian burst outside and landed on the top step of the porch, swinging Lizzie’s bell in a broad arc as he called for quiet. “Ladies and gentlemen, members and honored guests. I just spoke to the weather station and they say there’s a nasty squall headed our way. If our strong, young members will take the tables inside, we’ll reconvene for dinner under the protection of the great house.”
Helena tried to hold on, to keep Jason near, but they were carried away in the rush.
***
By the time everyone crammed into the foyer of the great house, the storm had arrived. Black clouds rushed in, accelerating the night, and the breeze became a gale. For an instant, daylight reappeared in a flash. Three seconds later, a boom shook the house, rattling windows and heralding a downpour.
Everyone shifted to the center of the room and huddled together.
The squall lasted only a few minutes. When it ended, the assembled relaxed and went back to their activities, nibbling hors d’oeuvres as Kailani spouted words of nine-year-old wisdom.
Yet Helena felt as if the clouds had never left. She searched the room in vain for Jason, still engulfed by the crowd. If she could be granted one wish by Kailani’s Spirit, she’d be back alone with Jason on the cliffs, or on the Spirit Hill, or at Grandmother Storyteller—just the two of them.
But that moment had passed like the storm.
She felt flushed, needing air, and navigated her way to the front door and out onto the porch. The air on the farm was always clean, but now it smelled freshly washed. She sucked it in and closed her eyes, letting her head clear. When she opened them again, it had grown bright outside, brighter than could be explained by the residual lightning flashing over the distant mountains. She stepped onto the lawn and looked up.
“Is everything all right, Helena?” Her mother must have seen her leave and followed.
Unable to answer, she pointed as she had the day Kailani’s boat arrived. Only once before, as a little girl on a family vacation, had she seen such a sight. Curtains of light rippled across the night sky, their folds shimmering in rose-pink and pale-green, sheer as the most delicate fabric. Helena could almost hear their movement, a distant, whispering swish.
“The Northern Lights,” her mother said, and dashed back inside to tell everyone.
The assembled filed through the door in ones and twos, onto the porch and down the steps to the lawn still wet from the rain. All had the same response: a look around, a glance up, and a cry of delight... like a child waking on her birthday.
“It’s the Northern Lights,” Sebastian confirmed as if still giving the tour. “We get them once or twice a year. How wonderful you should be here to see them.”
Kailani wandered out of the great house, wondering why her admirers had left. When she saw the lights, she ran to Helena and grasped her around the waist. “What is it?”
Helena stroked her hair. “We call it the Northern Lights.”
“But why are there lights in the sky?” She whispered as if concerned her ignorance might disillusion her followers.
Helena could feel her shivering through the fabric of the dress. “You’d be unlikely to see them in the Blessed Lands because they appear only in the far north. It’s caused by par
ticles that travel all the way from the sun. When they hit the upper atmosphere, the collisions emit energy in the form of light.”
“I don’t understand. You’re telling me what it is and how it works. I want to know why.”
Helena realized she’d been regurgitating her father’s explanation from years before. His words echoed in her mind. ‘I’ve explained how it works, Helena. There’s no why, just what and how. Take it for what it is and marvel while you can. You may never see it again.’
She struggled to find better words. “Truth is, Kailani, I don’t know. I guess that’s why people in the Blessed Lands make myths. A myth I heard as a child said the goddess of the dawn created the Northern Lights, her gift to ease the night. For a few moments in a lifetime, she’d send a wind from the north in the form of pure light to drive away the darkness.”
As Kailani listened, her concern abated until, at the end, she brightened. “The wind.”
She released Helena and stepped forward. With her white chiffon dress and the sparkles from the aquamarine stars, she looked like an apparition reflecting the lights from above.
People parted, clearing a space for her. Conversation stopped as all eyes turned to the girl at the center of the lawn.
Never taking her eyes from the sky, she raised her arms to the heavens like the statue at the base of the Spirit Hill.
“The Spirit of the wind has forgiven,” she said. “It’s the Blessing of the Wind.”
***
All the guests had gathered on the lawn and were staring at Kailani or looking up at the sky. From the top step of the porch, Benjamin had a clear view of her, and not a soul was watching him.
He raised the camera; one good shot was all he needed. If others could see her in this setting, they’d believe as he believed. The dark night with the yellow rays streaming from the windows and the light from the aurora above would add to the effect. He’d have to check what it looked like on the screen, but he could touch it up, adding a nimbus if necessary.
***
The next morning dawned crisp and cold. The previous night’s storm had driven summer from the Northern Kingdom, leaving a pleasant autumn day in its wake.
The Daughter of the Sea and the Sky Page 17
