Seeing Magic (The Queen of the Night Series Book 1) (8 page)

I stood in the middle of a small creek, which was only six feet wide. The water came up to my waist and flowed past me at a brisk pace. The sun shone through the trees which grew sparsely on either side of the stream, and birds called to each other from them, hidden in the branches.

In spite of what should have been a pastoral scene, I was horrified. Various people lay writhing or crouched on the banks, moaning in pain. In the distance cows lay still on the ground with huge flies buzzing over them frantically. Squirrels, still positioned bent over the stream, as if to take a drink, were decomposing. Little Zoe lay still and pale as if dead not far from her mother, who was alternately shrieking and vomiting. Standing over her was a disheveled, unshaven man, laughing hysterically. He swayed unsteadily as if drunk.

As I took in the apocalyptic circumstances, a cloud of neon green gas floated on the surface of the water downstream toward me. When it surrounded me, my eyes smarted and my lungs constricted.

Suffocating, I woke up coughing and gasping for breath. When I realized it was another bizarre nightmare, I took a drink of water, and fell exhausted, back to sleep.

Chapter Eight

Gnomes

“You look good. How do you feel?”  Fiona asked me the next morning as she walked past my bedroom door sipping from a mug of coffee.

“I feel great.” I’d had no further nightmares, and had woken up with absolutely no pain. Cautiously, I sat up in bed. There was still no pain. Gingerly, I stepped out of bed and was pleasantly surprised to find I could support my weight without a cane. Excited, I hopped and skipped around a little bit. I still felt no pain so I did my little happy dance. I happy danced my way to the bathroom, happy danced my way into my clothes, happy danced my way into the kitchen and then I happy danced right into Evan who was standing at the counter spreading cream cheese on a bagel. I stopped dead in my tracks, but it was too late.

His face showed amused pity and maybe a little disgust. I have little aptitude for dance. Meekly, I reached around him and grabbed half a bagel and the cream cheese and skulked to the dining room table.

Fiona filled the gap of embarrassing silence as I munched quietly. “I’m glad you’re better, because there is less than a week before the Feast of Litha. If you’re willing, I could use your help working on the farm.”

I thought curiously for a second and then asked, “I thought this was the farm, Great-Aunt Fiona.”

She smiled and said, “Call me Fi. Everyone else does.”

This surprised me. Obviously, her attitude toward me had changed completely since I’d stumbled into the secret room and had helped her with the little girl. I hadn’t realized how much her approval meant to me before this morning, but warmth sprouted in my heart and spread through me.

“The gardens in the back yard are for personal use. The property encompasses over four hundred and fifty acres; almost ninety of them are used for farming. There are many sections you have not yet seen. We also maintain crop fields, orchards and livestock. After breakfast, Evan could drive you over to the fields and introduce you to our foreman, Duncan. He mentioned that he could use all the help he could get if he’s to make the produce deliveries in time for the celebration.”

“I met Duncan at the farmer’s market.”

“Oh good, then you’ll recognize him when you see him. He’ll explain where he needs the help the most, and that’s what you’ll do so we can be ready for the Feast of Litha.”

“What’s the Feast of Litha?”

Fiona gave me an exasperated sigh. “There is so much about our world you must learn, but Evan can teach you the holiday celebrations as he drives you over to the fields. I have to get to the store. Have a good day.”

She finished her coffee and headed out.

Evan still smirked at me. “I assume your injuries are completely healed, but what was that jerking motion you were doing?”

“It was my happy dance, not that it’s any of your business,” I pouted. Then I added, “What’s Litha?”

“I’ll tell you later. Are you ready to meet the Gnomes?”

“Huh?”

He just chuckled.

***

Evan pulled out of Fiona’s gravel drive onto the paved street and took it halfway up the side of the mountain. He turned onto another gravel road I’d never noticed. We followed this road for some time, bounced up and down hills and weaved in and out of curves until we reached another clearing. From this vantage point I could see we were on a wide ledge jutting out about halfway up the side of the mountain. The trees had been stripped away and the sun shone brightly over several cultivated crop fields. Close to the inside of the ledge sat a stately, old-fashioned barn complete with a gambled roof and a hayloft under the shade of the rising mountain.

The clapboards of the barn were weathered and the paint was faded and peeling in places. The barn had once been red but now looked the color of rust. However, where the double barn doors had originally hung, a modern metal roll-up door had been installed, and in the door frame a security keypad was clearly visible. Next to the old barn sat a large aluminum shed. On either side of these outbuildings was paved level ground where several trucks and SUV’s parked side by side. Evan parked the Jeep next to a huge pickup truck with dual rear wheels and we got out. Duncan and several other men stood in front of the barn leaning over a picnic table on which was spread large maps.

The men recognized Evan and shouted out greetings. Evan called back. They treated each other as if they’d been friends for a long time, and I felt unsure of myself so I kept quiet and stood back. They exchanged handshakes and pats on the back, and then they noticed me.

Duncan clearly recognized me from our previous meeting because he separated himself from the group to shake my hand and introduced me to the others. “Gents, this is Fiona’s grand-niece, Maggie.”

I waved to the group.

“She and Evan will be helping out for the next few days. Maggie, this is my crew of field hands.”

Each of the men waved or nodded in greeting. There were seven men in addition to Duncan and Evan. Three of them looked to be Evan’s age. Two looked like they were in their mid-twenties. Two of them looked older, perhaps in their thirties. Duncan himself looked about Fiona’s age.

He continued, “You all are just in time. I was reminding the boys where we planted the new crops this year and handing out assignments. We have an awful lot to do if we’re going to fulfill the produce requests from all of the families in time for Litha. We need to mulch the cauliflower and peas, fertilize the corn, reseed the lettuce, divide the garlic, onions and potatoes and weed everything. Of course, we’ll need to harvest the new potatoes, lettuce, tomatoes and squash or there’ll be little to eat at the feast. So, are you ready to get to work?” 

Several men nodded their heads or murmured assent.

“Maggie, since you’re new I think I’ll ask you and Evan to work in the corn. It’s the closest field to the barn in case you need to take a break or get some shade.”

“Okay.”

“Now Evan, grab a spreader and a wheelbarrow of fertilizer from the shed. Mr. Husk is already in the upper corn field. He’ll tell you which spots need weeding the most. Follow him closely, and do what he says and there won’t be any problems. Hopefully, with the extra hands, we’ll accomplish a lot this week.”

The group disbanded. The men gathered the tools they would need out of the barn or the shed and headed out into the various fields. Duncan placed bricks on the maps and, leaving them on the table, also headed down the side of the mountain.

I looked over at Evan and asked, “Which one is Mr. Husk?”

“We haven’t met him yet. Just head toward the center of the corn field and I’ll catch up.”  He turned and walked back toward the shed, and I made my way down the hill to the center of the closest row of corn stalks. To my untrained eye, the corn crop looked healthy but young. The stalks stood only about three feet tall. The aisles between the stalks were comfortably wide and I had no problem walking between the rows, easily able to see over the tops of all of the stalks in the field. No one else walked there.

I worried I was in the wrong corn field, when one of the stalks of corn, right in front of me, started to move. It rapidly grew several feet until it towered over me. My heart leapt into my throat when a single ear of corn bulged out of the top of the stalk. It stopped beating altogether when two eyelids snapped open to reveal round green eyes in the ear of corn. A long tuft of pure-white corn fiber pushed out of the top of the ear like hair. As I watched, dumbfounded, a small nose pushed out of the center of the ear and lips split a hole sideways below the nose. When the mouth opened, it bent the ear of corn back and forth, revealing the center of the cob and a row of kernels shaped like teeth. I forced myself to breathe again as the transformation continued. Two large flat, green leaves separated from either side of the stalk to form arms, which raised themselves as if shrugging non-existent shoulders. Then the base of the stalk spilt itself right up the middle from the ground until the break was half the length of the entire corn stalk. When the right half of the corn stalk raised and pulled its roots right out of the ground, taking a step toward me, I reared back and lost my balance, landing on my butt with an unfeminine
thwack
.

I was completely surprised and shocked, but not as much as I’d been a week earlier. Mostly, I was irritated with myself for falling than afraid of this new magical creature. That’s why, as I scrambled back to my feet, I barked rudely at the corn stalk, “What the
hell
are you?”

The booming baritone voice that emanated from the broken cob mouth was so loud it almost knocked me over again, as he replied, “Hello. I am Mr. Husk. And
what
pray tell, are you?”

At this point Evan had caught up with me. He was pushing a wheelbarrow which contained fertilizer. Lying on top was a spreader, a hoe, and a rake. He sat the wheelbarrow down and came to stand beside me.

Calmly, he made introductions. “Mr. Husk, it is so good to see you again.”  He reached out a hand and delicately shook the leaf that was offered to him. “Mr. Husk, I’d like you to meet Fiona’s grand-niece, Maggie Stewart. Maggie, Mr. Husk is a gnome. He specializes in corn rearing.”

Put back in my place, I timidly took the leaf offered to me and shook it with two fingers. “Oh,” I asked, “do all gnomes rear corn?”

“Goodness no,” came the chuckled, booming reply. “Gnomes can specialize in any domesticated plant that humans choose to farm. My wife, Mrs. Plump, is down the hill with the tomatoes. You will find there are many of us that have made this farm our home, but gnomes are everywhere. I have a distant cousin who works with hollyhocks at the local Episcopal Church.”

“Do they all look like you?”

“Gnomes are shape shifters, lassie. We are one of only three species of magical folk who have aligned themselves with humankind. We have dedicated ourselves to helping you cultivate the crops you need to survive. As shape shifters, we prefer to adopt the guise of our charges to better communicate with the plants. In my case, I talk to the corn.”

“You actually talk to them?”  I asked, skeptically.

“Of course I do. That’s why I put down roots.” He pointed to the roots that formed his feet. “So I can talk to the corn. They tell me where they need help the most and I pass that information to the farmers. Consider me a corn ambassador.” 

In a weird way his explanation made sense. “Okay, Mr. Ambassador, what help does the corn need from us?”

He chuckled. If it was possible for an ear of corn to look pleased than Mr. Husk did. “Aye ‘ya lassie. That is the question to be asked, because a farmer’s work, as you may know, is never done. Even during the growing season, after all of the seeds have been planted, and before the harvest season, when all the fruits and vegetables are gathered, there is much, much work to do. At this time of year, in the corn fields, it is important for us to weed, weed, and weed some more. We must keep the ground free of other plants that might want to steal the nutrients out of the soil away from the corn. Then we fertilize. We want to give our crop their best chance of producing the most, largest and healthiest ears of corn. Now I’ve been told that the McGee farm two mountains over has developed a case of dry rot in their corn crop, so Duncan has added a special organic pesticide to the fertilizer. We have to get it done this week, or the disease could reach us.”

Evan piped up, “How do you know that Mr. Husk?”

“Oh, I know a dryad who knows a nyad. You know how people gossip.”

“Indeed I do.”  Evan smiled. He pushed the wheelbarrow and I carried the hoe and rake as we followed Mr. Husk farther into the field.

He called to us. “I have spoken to the corn and they have told me where the weeds are growing the thickest. We’ll work on this field in the morning and move on to the lower field after lunch.”

I’d learned from working in Fiona’s garden to put a bandana around my neck to mop up sweat, pull my hair back in a ponytail and to lather myself with insect repellent and sunscreen. Because I was prepared for the physical labor, it was not as uncomfortable as it could have been, even though the sun still beat down upon us as we worked.

Evan and Mr. Husk made the time pass more quickly by keeping up a steady stream of conversation. I chose to conserve my energy, but enjoyed the stories about the clan and the jokes. At one point Evan commented, “We’ve been lucky this year. We’ve had a good bit of rain.”

“Aye, that we have, laddie. It adds a whole other layer of work bringing in outside irrigation. You have to get permission from the nyads. Things can get testy when everyone fights for water.”

I interrupted. “What’s a nyad?”

Evan answered. “A nyad is a member of the Sidhe who protects a stream, river or a brook.”

“Is that the same as a water fairy?”

“Yes, but I’ll tell you now, before you meet them at the feast of Litha, they prefer to be called Sidhe.”

“Okay, but that reminds me. What is the feast of Litha?”

“You should ask Mr. Husk during lunch.”