by Pati Nagle
Mad sat on the living room sofa, flipping through a magazine. Holly would have been annoyed at this reminder that her sister was now exempt from chores, but she was in too much of a hurry to worry about it. She watered all of Mom’s plants and washed the picture window, then dusted the piano, coffee table, and bookshelves.
“Hey, whirlwind,” said Mad. “What’s the hurry?”
“Just want to get done.”
“Got a hot date?”
That was mean. Mad knew that Holly hadn’t connected with any boys she was interested in. Holly paused to look at her sister.
“I was thinking about going to the library.”
“Oh.”
Mad went back to her magazine. She’d never been as obsessed with reading as Holly, which was why Holly had mentioned the library. She didn’t want Mad following her today.
She finished her chores and slapped a turkey sandwich together in the kitchen. Her mother came in as she was putting away the mayonnaise.
“Where to today?” Mom said, a little too cheerful.
“Library. Need me to pick anything up at the store on the way back?”
“I don’t think so, but thank you honey.”
Holly grabbed a ginger ale and slid her sandwich into a plastic bag. Mom took out a second bag and put four oatmeal raisin cookies into it from the cookie jar. Holly hugged her as she accepted it, and Mom held her tight for a second.
Angsting again. Mom had gotten kind of needy over the summer, knowing that the coming year would be Holly’s last in high school. Empty nest looming ahead.
Holly returned the squeeze, then kissed her mom’s cheek. “You’re the best.”
“Pot roast for supper tonight.”
“Yum! I’ll be there.”
She put her lunch into her pack along with a couple of library books, and headed to the garage for her bike. She would drop the books off on the way back, but the library was not her first stop.
She walked up the steep driveway, then mounted the bike and pushed off. At the end of her street she glanced back to check if anyone at home was watching. Trees blocked the windows, so to see her the family would have had to come out in the yard. It was empty.
She turned right, toward the Enchantment Spring trailhead. It wasn’t far, but it was uphill. Pumping hard, she felt a buzz of excitement. Yesterday had changed her life; today would confirm it.
She locked her bike in the rack at the trailhead and strode up the trail. Her heart was pounding, and not just from the exercise. She wanted to run, but she paced herself. Other people were on the trail. She didn’t want them to notice her acting unusual; in a small town like Las Palomas, that could get back to her folks.
The forest welcomed her, deliciously cool after the warm sun. Today the hike seemed longer than yesterday, only because Holly was anxious for it to be over. Enchantment Spring was a little over a mile up the trail, which continued on up into the mountains for another four miles.
Despite the faster pace, she noticed more today than she had yesterday. Purple asters and scarlet penstemon blooming to either side of the trail. Birds flitting around in the branches of the pines, or peeping from the depths of a scrub oak. Some small critter’s burrow at the foot of a tree. She was looking at the woods, more interested in them now because this was Ohlan’s home.
Voices ahead made her slow down. She should be getting near the spring. Shrieks of childish laughter brought her brows together in a frown.
Of course there were other people up here. Beautiful weekend, next to last before school started, and the wild raspberries were ripe. Of course folks wanted to get up into the mountains.
Holly bit down on resentment as she entered the glen. A mom and three mop-headed kids were there, and they had trashed the place. Food wrappers and half-eaten cookies all over the ground.
Holly’s gaze went to the spring. It looked the same as when she’d first seen it: a concrete coffin of water, quiet and golden. No birds; the kids were way too noisy.
She managed to smile at the mom, then continued up the trail. She didn’t want to share Ohlan with these people. She could see they were the sort he meant when he spoke of people who didn’t really look, didn’t want to see.
A little way up the trail she found a rock to sit on, out of sight of the glen, but she could still hear the kids. She wasn’t hungry yet, so to pass the time she took out one of her library books and read the prologue, which she had skipped before reading the book. It didn’t add anything to the story, and it had a spoiler for a big dramatic event that had occurred later in the book. She was glad she hadn’t read it before.
She took out the other book—a fat fantasy novel from a series she loved. Gazing at the cover, she realized how crazy the story was, full of fights, magic spells, dragons, talking cats. Nothing like the real magic she’d stumbled onto: a gorgeous guy, millennia old, who lived in a spring.
She couldn’t picture Ohlan casting a spell, but what did she know? He came and talked to her in her dreams. Maybe he had other powers she hadn’t seen.
The mom’s voice cut into her thoughts; the sharp tone of command. Holly put the books away and waited, listening. A few minutes later the voices diminished as the family headed back down the trail.
Holly’s stomach fluttered as she stood. Please, please let this be real.
She walked back to the glen and paused to look around. To the mom’s credit, most of the trash had been picked up. Holly spotted one cupcake paper under a bush, bent to pick it up, and rolled it into a wad which she stuffed into her pocket.
Turning, she looked at the spring. It was silent, motionless. Sunlight glinted on the water. Short of breath, Holly walked toward it.
Empty. Her heart gave a huge squeeze. She stood at the foot of the coffin and touched her fingertips to the water.
“Ohlan?”
And he was there, smiling as he opened his eyes, then sat up. Holly gasped and stepped back in spite of herself.
“Ohmigod!”
Ohlan’s smile widened. “I hoped you would come today.”
Holly stared, as awestruck as she had been the first time. Ohlan’s hair and clothes were dry, even though he was sitting in the spring. His eyes, still incredible, held her. She swallowed.
“You really are real!”
“You doubted it after our conversation?”
“Well, you know. Dreams. Can’t trust ’em. Uh—do you sleep?”
“Not quite the same way you do. I do not dream.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.”
Ohlan raised himself up to sit on the edge of the coffin, legs still in the water up to his calves. His longish, long-sleeved shirt and pants were the same fabric—silky, golden-dappled stuff that clung to him and rippled in the slightest breeze. He looked around at the glen.
“More people are passing through this place than I remember.”
“The trail’s popular this time of year. There are raspberry patches up the mountain.”
He looked puzzled for a moment, then shook it off with another smile. “Well, I am glad you are here.”
“Did you see those kids who were here a little while ago?”
“No.”
“Does someone have to touch the water for you to notice them?”
His puzzled frown returned. “No, but I am more likely to be aware of them if they do. And even if they do touch the water, I might not sense them. If I am away at the time, or sleeping….”
Holly took a step closer. “How often do you go away?”
“I have not left at all in recent years. I have been weak.”
Holly didn’t like the sound of that. He’d said something similar in her dream.
“Do you have enemies?”
Ohlan’s brows rose. “What enemies could I have?”
“Well, I don’t know. Someone who wanted your territory?”
He laughed, a soft ripple of sound. “I possess no territory. Ownership is a human concept. If anything, this spring possesses me. I am bound to it.�
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“You can never leave?”
“I must always return. This place is the source of my being.”
Not too hopeful for a long-term relationship with a human. Holly felt herself blushing. She was fooling herself if she thought that she could get involved with Ohlan. The whole idea of it was crazy. She looked down at her feet, sneakers dusty from hiking the trail.
She was just a silly human. Ohlan was beyond her comprehension, she suspected. Thousands of years old. Bound to the water in a way she didn’t understand. Magical—or perhaps supernatural was a better word, except that it implied not being part of nature, and Ohlan was absolutely part of nature.
She looked up and found him watching her, the soft smile hovering on his lips. Her stomach clenched.
Problem was, she was already half in love with him.
“Do you eat?” she blurted, feeling awkward.
“Yes, when I am in a form such as this.”
Holly unslung her pack and opened it, then paused. “You have other forms?”
“I can take the form of any living creature.”
Whoa. “But … what’s your natural form?”
“One that you would not be able to see.”
Holly frowned, thinking. “When I first saw you yesterday, you looked like this.”
“Yes. In my sleep I sensed you, and shifted to a form like yours. It is the easiest way of communicating.”
“Oh.”
Holly swallowed, then fished the bag of cookies her mom had given her out of her pack and held it up. “Homemade oatmeal rasin. Want one?”
“Yes, please.”
She took a cookie from the bag and held it out to Ohlan. His fingers brushed hers as he accepted it, sending a tingle all through her.
Oh, man. This was probably not good.
“Thank you,” Ohlan said, as gravely as if she’d just saved his life.
Holly pulled out another cookie and bit into it, watching as he did the same. He closed his eyes while he chewed, as if savoring every sensation.
“Do you need to eat?”
Ohlan looked at her and shook his head. “The spring sustains me. When I am in a form that requires food, though, it is helpful to eat.”
I can bring you food, Holly thought. I could come every day.
Crazy. Just trying to find a way to make him need her. Not good.
She watched him while they finished the cookies. A sparrow flew up and landed on the edge of the concrete box not far from him. Ohlan slowly placed a cookie crumb between him and the bird. It hopped incrementally closer, eyeing him suspiciously, then grabbed the crumb and flew away. Ohlan grinned.
He seemed to love everything about the world. Maybe experiencing it in human form was a novelty for him.
With a shock, Holly realized why his gaze was so mesmerizing. When he looked at her, she could feel the love shining out of his eyes. He looked at everything with love.
A space seemed to open up in her chest, where before it had been closed. Maybe she could be like Ohlan, at least a little bit.
She thought about how annoyed she had been when she encountered the mom and kids in the glen earlier. Maybe she could have looked at them differently. Talked to them, played with the kids a little. She hadn’t even said hello.
She realized she was gripping the edge of the concrete box, and made herself let go. Ohlan was watching her.
“Do you have friends, Ohlan? Friends who’re like you?”
“Yes, and friends who are not. I see every creature who comes here as a friend.”
“Then could I be your friend?”
The smile lit his face. “I would like that very much.”
Warmth bloomed in her heart, and she smiled back. She was too giddy for safety and she didn’t care.
“I’ll come as often as I can. I’d like to spend all my time here, but my parents would freak. And then school is starting in a couple of weeks, so I might not get up here until the weekends. Um, do you know about weekends?”
Ohlan nodded. “People from your culture have been coming here for over a hundred years. There was a school in Las Palomas—a school for boys.”
“Oh, yeah, that was before the town started. Some of the old buildings are still there.”
Ohlan’s brow creased in a slight frown as he looked downhill toward the town. “What year is it, Holly?”
“Two thousand eleven.”
The frown deepened. “I have missed so much.”
Holly wanted to comfort him, but she didn’t know how. She reached out and put her hand over his.
Ohlan looked at her, the frown vanishing as he smiled. He turned his hand beneath hers and clasped it. His palm was cool.
A tiny thrill poured through her as she returned his gaze. This—just this—was worth any hassle her family could give her.
Voices startled her. A man and a woman talking as they came up the trail. She turned, pulling her hand out of Ohlan’s grasp and leaning against the spring. A moment later the strangers came into the glen. Power hikers, from their hi-tech boots and water bottles and their lean builds. They both wore shades.
The woman smiled without pausing. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Holly answered, watching them stride through the glen. They didn’t seem to notice Ohlan, though maybe they were just intent on keeping their pace. When they had gone, she turned to him.
“Did they see you?”
“No.”
“You can tell?”
“I can feel when someone sees me. That is what woke me, yesterday when you came here.”
“Oh. But that bird saw you.”
Ohlan’s smile widened. He raised both arms, palms up, and looked up at the trees overhead.
Birds swarmed down to land on his arms, chirping and peeping. They clustered on his head and shoulders, bickering for space.
“Wow,” Holly breathed.
A tiny finch lost its purchase and fell into the spring, thrashing and fluttering. Ohlan scooped it up with one hand while the other birds clung to his sleeve, flapping their wings for balance.
A jay that was on his shoulder took off with a raucous protest. Others followed, some circling and settling back on Ohlan’s arms, others flying away into the bushes. He slowly lowered his arms and some of the birds hopped off onto his thighs or the concrete edge of the spring.
“That’s pretty cool. How did you call them?”
Ohlan glanced at a titmouse on his shoulder. “It was more that I welcomed them. They know me.”
Holly smiled, then took out her sandwich. “Want half?”
Ohlan shook his head. “No, thank you.”
“How about another cookie?”
He held out his hand, momentarily displacing a chickadee, which scrambled onto his shoulder, scolding. Holly gave him both the remaining cookies and ate her sandwich, trying to experience it fully, all the flavors and textures, instead of just bolting it down as she usually would have done.
She stayed by the spring, chatting with Ohlan after she finished her lunch, telling him a little about school and her family in between watching hikers pass through the glen. None of them noticed Ohlan, though Holly made a point of greeting them all, which made most of them look toward the spring where he was sitting.
When she finally succumbed and checked her watch, it was almost 3:30. She had to get moving if she was going to make it to the library and get home in time for dinner. Reluctantly, she slid her pack onto her shoulders.
“I have to go. I’ll try to come back tomorrow.”
He nodded. “Thank you. I cannot tell you how good it is to be awake again.”
“Is there anything I can bring you? Favorite food?”
“Your company is all the nourishment I need.”
Wow. Holly felt herself blushing. “Um, thanks.”
Ohlan reached for her hand, causing her heart to jump toward her throat. His fingers were cool against hers. He raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed it.
Holly stood frozen. Ohlan low
ered her hand again, smiling as he gazed at her. She couldn’t move, didn’t want to move. She was tingling all over, delight and excitement buzzing through her mind and body.
She heard a heavy tread on the trail. Damn it!
Ohlan let go of her hand, and she turned to watch for the hiker. One person. Big.
A man. Tall, bearded, wearing a gimme hat, jeans, and a t-shirt from a monster truck rally. Holly shifted, leaning against the spring. She didn’t like the way he looked at her.
“Hi, princess. You alone?”
Holly opened her mouth, but before she could answer she heard a different voice.
“No, she isn’t.”
It was Ohlan’s voice, but not the same. She turned her head to look and was stunned to see Ohlan stepping out from behind a tree, dressed in regular clothes. He looked a lot bigger; he was taller than the hiker, with bulging muscles in the arms he folded across his chest, like he had transformed into a weight-lifter.
The hiker’s eyes narrowed as he sized up Ohlan. Ohlan came and stood beside Holly, holding his gaze. The hiker stepped back, lifting one hand.
“Just checkin’. Pretty thing like that shouldn’t be alone in the woods.”
Neither Ohlan nor Holly answered. The hiker continued up the trail, humming loudly to himself. Holly watched until he was gone, then turned to Ohlan.
“Thanks. That was amazing! You made him see you!”
Ohlan leaned against the concrete box as if he was suddenly tired. His face looked strained and pale.
Alarmed, Holly stepped toward him. “What’s wrong?”
Instead of answering he plunged his arms into the water and collapsed to his knees. Holly knelt beside him, putting an arm across his back. He closed his eyes, frowning as he bowed his head. After a few moments, he relaxed and looked up.
“I should not be so weak.”
“Was it changing your shape?” Holly asked.
“And leaving the water. But I should be able to leave it. I used to roam all over these mountains.”
He stood, slowly and wearily, leaning on Holly’s hand to steady himself, then stepped into the spring and lay back, sinking into the water up to his neck. His body shifted as he did so, back to the slender form she had first seen. The weight-lifter body wouldn’t have fit in the coffin.
