“Grayson,” Miranda said, breaking his mental pep talk. Grayson leaned toward her, letting her know he was still there. “We don’t belong here,” she said with a soft, sad voice.
He understood what she meant. She didn’t mean this place, this cliff. He nodded, knowing and agreeing. “I know. Whatever this is, honey, we’ll get out of it. We can fix it. I know we can.”
There was a long pause after another deep breath from Miranda. She was looking out over the edge of The Point, and all she could see was the swirling dark fog lapping over the edge.
“How?” she finally asked. She could barely see five feet in front of her, but truly, it was the creeping fear clawing at heart that she couldn’t see through.
Even though there was a rising resolve inside of Grayson, as he looked at Thane hunched over, the little fairy met his glance. Hoping for some kind of reciprocated look of hope, Thane just looked away. Miranda felt Grayson’s lungs fill with air and then release. It wasn’t the response she was hoping for.
Visions of their childhood fluttered through Miranda’s mind. Ten-year old Miranda pushing up Grayson’s Coke-bottle glasses with a smile. The long, nervous stare they shared before their first kiss, and the electricity of pure emotion when he proposed. She held on to the memory of that feeling and closed her eyes. Within Grayson’s arms, their lips pressed against each other’s for the first time and, recalling the vivid memory, she felt as if her feet were slowly lifted from the lightness of such a rush of love. Her heart fluttered for a beat, though fear of never feeling it again crept back in. She didn’t notice the light of the Wishing Pool brighten. She didn’t see that it sparkled amidst the darkness of the fog.
But Grayson did. He didn’t know why it suddenly glowed brighter, but he knew it was reflecting something and he knew he wasn’t a fool for trusting his new sense of determination. He looked again at Thane, and saw that the little fairy was also watching The Pool. Quickly, their eyes met and for the first time in what felt like forever, Grayson watched a smile build across Thane’s face.
The fog swept quickly over The Point and Erebus appeared, floating next to the WishKeeper statue. His gaze went from the pulsing glow of The Pool to The True Love Wish in his palm, dimly lit and shivering.
“So hopeful even in defeat. So much intent within the smallest of chances.” Erebus crawled through the fog and stood, hovering over the brightness of The Pool. He lowered his hand and dipped it into the glistening water, then raised his dark, menacing face with a smile - looking directly at Grayson.
“Now you see why I want this wish.”
Like a slow leak of oil, the bright blue water rippled with a black oily ooze. It stemmed from his icy finger and spilled, dousing the glow.
“And why yours will never come true.”
Miranda didn’t bother turning her head. She could feel the brightness in her heart fading, and tightly pressing her eyes closed, desperate to hold on to the memories, a tear glided down her cheek and pooled at the corner of her lips.
40
Avery’s Wish
Flying through the thick valley air, Goren and Foster rushed to the Nursery. Though there was no wind, not even a breeze, pushing through the fog was like running along a blustery beach. Their wings were heavy, and the moisture of the air gathered and dripped from their foreheads. Foster was having difficulty catching his breath, and Goren only agreed to stop since the Wishing Pond was a few hundred feet in front of them. They were close and by some miracle of directional memory, they had found the Wish Nursery despite the lack of visibility.
Cringing and holding his side, Foster bent over and dropped his wand, resting his hands on his knees. Goren surveyed the surroundings. The quiet was crippling and his eyes were tired from the constant need to refocus through the darkness. Barely noticeable, Goren peered through the fog, and saw small dots of light within the main barn of the Nursery.
“There’s some life left in ‘em. I can see a few. They’re not moving, but their light still shines,” he said. He turned and looked at his tall, lanky friend, still hunched over. “There any life left in you? Or do I have to do all of this myself? Once again.”
Foster turned his head and Goren’s smirk was enough to give him a little energy, if nothing else but to return some of the slight trash-talking. He reached down, snatched up his wand and gathered himself with a wheezy deep breath.
“Even if my legs were lobbed off at the knees, I’d have more life in me than you and that bulging belly of yours.”
Goren looked and patted his stomach. It wasn’t Goren’s fault his stout frame came with an inability to keep off the weight, although it was also his inability to stave off the constant hunger. He was known for snacking on Maker candies during WishGathering missions. Everyone needed a vice and Goren’s was definitely that of a sweet tooth.
“Let’s get this over with so you can eat,” Foster continued with a smile.
“Once again we’ve misplaced our third wheel. Where is that black-haired mystery fairy anyway?” Goren was of course referring to Avery, but they didn’t have time to wait. Walking along the edge of the pond, its water was still and though usually lit by gliding Wishes, it was black and motionless like a muddy puddle.
The slow squeak of the front wooden gate of the stables resonated a slow, eerie feeling through the two Keepers. Piles of silver dust lined each pen, and Goren and Foster refused to look at each directly. They knew what it was - dead wishes, reduced to nothing but weightless fibers of powder. Stepping through and along the path, they noticed a soft set of lights inside the main barn. Millions of wishes had at one time brightened this end of the valley, but now just a muted set of trickling light pushed its way through the cracks in the side of the barn.
Hurrying through the front barn doors, the low bass of its hinges echoed through the empty main hall. Massive in size and depth, the Nursery hall was lined with rows upon rows of shelves five stories tall. Though circular, the other end of the hall was almost unnoticeable, being so far away from the front doors. Countless glass jars sat motionless on the shelves, each with dusty fibers of consumed wishes at their bottoms. Empty, but for the remaining dust. Even though Foster and Goren were expecting to see some form of devastation, they were not expecting such desolation. Being the base of operations for all near-fulfilled wishes, never had the main hall of the Nursery been empty. Even if Paragonia was slowly vanishing over the years and WishGathering was becoming more and more straining and difficult, the main hall was always filled. There was never a need for any kind of artificial illumination, or even basic candles, since the wishes themselves would light up the hall just fine. Suddenly Foster and Goren were looking at a scene that was nothing short of a nightmare.
Jingling of glass bristled their ears. Quickly looking to their far right, they saw a small group of wishes bouncing in their jars, reacting to the Keepers entering the hall. They rushed over, sprinting along the ancient wood flooring of the barn, and counted the remaining wishes.
Nine. It would have taken them weeks to count, one-by-one, the amount of glass jars within the main hall and now, shining as brightly as they could, all that was left was nine hopeful little wishes.
“All Purities,” Foster said, holding back a rising panic. Indeed, all nine wishes were pink, though each with their own discolored version of yellow. Not surprising as they had been sitting within the main hall for quite some time and were most likely going unfulfilled.
“Closest thing to true love, a Purity. Resilient, but…” Goren looked around him. Foster knew what his friend wanted to say. He, too, couldn’t process the emptiness of the hall. It wasn’t a hopeful ‘but’ it was one of confusion and disbelief. Only nine left.
The floorboards of the hall creaked behind them as the low creaking of the barn doors echoed shut. Goren and Foster turned, wands drawn and quickly pointing at whatever had entered. They could barely see Avery in the looming darkness of the hall. As she stood, staring, in the middle of the massive room, the two Keepers
lowered their wands; thankful it was just Avery and not something more menacing.
“Waterstone, you never cease to startle the living daylight out of me,” Foster said, releasing a captured breath.
“Care to join us, or are you just going to stand there? There’s not much time.” Goren said and looked at Foster. “Nor much hope.”
As if pushed with a breeze, Avery glided slowly to them. Her wand hand was limp at her side, and her black hood covered a lifeless pair of eyes. Goren and Foster didn’t share each other’s thoughts, but both felt as if the fog itself was creeping toward them. Approaching with her head slightly tilted down and toes scraping the wooden floor, Avery finally paused in front of her friends. The balls of her feet gently landed to the floor and she stood, glaring at the nine remaining wishes.
“Shea’s little plan isn’t much of one,” Goren said.
“She obviously didn’t think there would be so few left. Cut her some slack,” Foster returned.
“Well, there’s nothing for it. If this is what’s left, we do what we can with what we have,” Goren said, aiming his wand at the glass jars.
Avery suddenly and lightning quick, grabbed Goren’s arm and stopped him. She was still looking at the wishes, but her grip tightened. Her hand shook as Goren grunted and tried pushing back. He was surprised she could grip his hand with such powerful force. He tried pulling back again, but she wouldn’t let go. As strong as he was and usually able to overpower any Keeper, he couldn’t undue the painful hold around his wrist.
“Avery. Stop, what -,” he said, but when she finally turned her head and met eyes with him, he caught his breath.
Her eyes were black as a moonless midnight, bubbling with a swirled oil. Deeply set bags under her eyes gave her a look of decaying death and just as Foster tried to back away, Avery smashed a hot black spell against the floor.
Thousands of glass jars tumbled and fell, breaking into pieces. The nine remaining Purities bounced out of their broken homes and Foster fell to his knees. Keeping her grip tight around Goren’s arm, she aimed her wand straight above her head and looked at the fallen Foster. He finally saw the darkness in her eyes and all he could say was her name, astonished at how suddenly ruined their friend was; at how unrecognizable she’d become.
“These aren’t the wishes he needs,” she finally said, raspy and deep. An umbrella blast from the end of her wand cascaded over top of them, devouring the nine floating wishes and obliterating them to dust. The powder slowly fell and dribbled over their shoulders as Avery released the spell. Quiet rushed back into the echoing hall, and Avery turned her thoughtless gaze back toward nothing at all. Lifting inches from the wooden floor, she floated once again and let go of Goren. All they could do was look, stunned and breathless. This wasn’t the Avery they knew and even though she’d always been distant, quiet and mysterious, she wasn’t evil. Not until now.
Foster’s face burned red with building heat. His body flushed with anger and he pushed himself off the floor, forgetting about any pain still pulsing through his bones. He and Goren whipped and charged their wands, daring Avery to make a move.
She made a move.
Without any dramatic pause, hesitation, or looming possibility of a dual, Avery spun suddenly like a twister, rising up above them trailing black dust behind her high among the shelves of the hall and flashed a bolt of black energy from the end of her wand. In an instant, Goren and Foster were flung against the broken shelving, and fell face first into the shards of glass and spilled dust.
The quiet once again returned to the hall and Avery floated to the floor. Arms limp at her side, toes scraping the floor boards, head tilted slightly down. She left her friends unconscious and bleeding and slowly floated out of the barn.
It was not the Purities she needed. It was a different type of wish Avery Waterstone needed, and they awaited her arrival within a dark, damp cave upon Exclamation Point. Though the pink-haired, blissful little fairy of her past was long forgotten, there remained a fleeting notion within her that this curse could be lifted. That despite the impossibility of realizing her love for Elanor and the crippling anger that came with it, the only way to end her pain was to personally fulfill her final wish. To have Elanor as her own.
41
At The Edge Of A Memory
Standing at the base of the mountain, Shea, Beren and a limping Elanor looked up. Exclamation Point was barely visible, towering overhead. The light of the Wishing Pool was the only way they could spot The Point, but as they stared upward, the difficulty of their task was suddenly apparent. Rising up, the mountain was the tallest of any in the valley and even though Exclamation Point wasn’t at the very top of it, it still resided hundreds of stories above their heads. Getting a crippled Elanor up the side of the mountain would be daunting, but having her grapple the final few feet before The Point would be nothing short of a miracle.
They rested for a moment at the mountain’s rocky base as Elanor leaned against a boulder. Her breathing was labored and not only because of her cracked ribs. The black dust was visibly trailing from her shoulders now and Shea wondered at how painful it must be to ward off such a thing, even though she didn’t understand it.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been able to keep you in one place for so long, Beren,” Elanor said, smiling through the pain and looking at the handcuff spell wrapped around his wrists.
He returned the smile and helped Elanor sit. “Shea, did I ever tell you about the first time I met your mother?”
“Do we have time for stories, Dad?” Shea said, even though she actually did want to hear this one.
“A moment for a breath. Plus, it’s not much of a story,” he winked at his daughter and Elanor gave a hearty laugh, knowing it was a bit of joking insult.
“It was our first training session on The Other Side. It was known as a Live Performance Test at the time, but basically it was a Singulars mission - a Wish Wrangling Performance Trial - as we call it today.”
Shea nodded her head, knowing the term. She’d always wanted to try one. Very simply, it was an annual training session race between the top Keeper recruits to track and find one particular wish that was individually assigned to them and hidden somewhere on The Other Side. No one knew what region in which it was hidden and the test famously lasted for weeks. The fastest to capture their Wish and return it to Paragonia automatically qualified for the Keeper force and resulted in quite a bit of fame for the successful Keeper. The top five finishers were given a “legendary status” on their recruitment sheet. It was another little dream of Shea’s; achieve legendary status among her peers.
“Where were we, Ellie? Prague? I think it was Prague,” Beren asked Elanor.
“Hamburg. You always get the Maker cities screwed up. Your dad was never very good at Maker geography.”
“It was Prague,” Beren said, smirking at Shea. Elanor guffawed, fighting the urge to argue. “There is a giant time-keeping machine at the center of the city and I was certain the Wish was hidden there.”
“They call them clocks, Beren. And, hmm, you might actually be right. There was a clock tower in the Prague city square.”
“Prague,” Beren said again. “As I floated to the top of the tower, there it was. The Wish. I looked around me in case any other Keepers were following, but I was alone.”
“Or so he thought. I pushed him off the edge of the overhang,” Elanor said, laughing. “That Wish flew away so fast at the sound of your dad’s yelp, I’m surprised the Makers didn’t hear him.”
Shea laughed, but tried holding back when she met the annoyed eyes of her father.
“It wasn’t a yelp. It was more of a cough. She hit me square in the wings. Very illegal move, and it forced the breath right out of me.”
Shea watched her mom and dad stare at each other, silently recalling the moment with soft smiles.
“But, really, it was the sight of your mother’s eyes that truly made me lose my breath.” Beren continued. Her eyes filled up with tears a
nd, self-conscious from the building blackness currently swirling, she looked away.
She had never seen it before, but Shea noticed a slight brightness radiate from her parents’ wings. Even though her mom’s were broken and shredded, just a touch of light emanated from them, as did Beren’s. Maybe this was what love looked like. Despite the gravity of their current situation, Shea thought it was beautiful.
As Shea was lost in her loving thoughts, Beren turned to her, reached his handcuffed hands and took his daughter’s.
“I want you know understand something,” he said. “When two people love each other, time is the only thing that can change. The love always remains constant. No matter what happens tonight, we will always love each other.”
“And we never stopped loving you, honey,” Elanor said, looking up at her daughter. For the first time, Shea wasn’t frightened when looking into her mother’s eyes. She suddenly understood what her dad had said. Her mother’s eyes were swirling with cursed darkness, but it was still her mother. Her mom was still there and she would always be there, even if the curse consumed her.
A long pause filled the quiet stillness of the air and finally Beren sighed a deep breath. “I think that’s enough reminiscing for now.” He helped Elanor stand. “You say there is a small cliff below the edge of the point?”
The WishKeeper (The Paragonia Chronicles) Page 22
