The Steward (40 page)

“No, quite alright. Conceptually, you’re not far off. We typically don’t mark the portals so obviously, and when we do, we don’t mark them with rings of mushrooms—at least not in millennia. There is no need. It is impossible to use them in physical form. However, the one in the Weald Fea is marked. It is also among the oldest in the world.

“The Fountain?”

“No, too wet. Ironically enough, it’s in the well.”

I searched my memories and I didn’t remember seeing one.

“It’s a small brick and stone well with a timber roof and slate tiles—terrible place for a well, on top of the hill—never holds water.” He smiled again. “But a great place to mark a portal. My idea.”

“Why do it there, have Frank and Vita build a cottage in such an important place.”

“They were unaware of our existance, and both were gardeners, like so many of your family.”
He
paused and
smiled.
“As much as my kind was ent
h
ralled with the cottage garden that Lola created, I thought it a good idea to build one at the Seoladán—a tribute to its significance. As it turned out, your family’s contribution to the
area was simply amazing
. While it is in ruin now, the garden at
the
Seoladán rivaled and perhaps supassed Lola’s. No one enjoys it now, I imagine. The images in your mind are a travesty. Only one creature in the world
is twisted enough to
find comfort there now.”

“Billy, what alignment are you?”

He smiled.
“Can’t you guess?”

“Fire would be my first guess, but you heal the cats, so I don’t know. You could be Earth.”

“Go with your intuition.”

“Fire. So what is it with Fire Fae and big cats. Gavin reminds me of a jaguar, Danny Johns a lion, and you, you remind me of a
l
eopard.”

He smiled a fifth time. “That’s a wonderful compliment. I have completely forgiven you for using the F-word. Many people have made a similar connection to Fire aligned Fae and large predatory cats. So much, in fact,
that
big cats are often the symbol of Fire. But why, I don’t know. There’s just something about us I suppose.”

Though
more
relaxed with me,
he was
still a little on the aloof side. I decided to push my luck
anyway.

“Billy, are you going to be my Treoraí
?”

His face grew stern again and he stared at me.

“I haven’t decided.”

“Please, I don’t trust the Seelie.”

“Usually, it
’
s the Unseelie
that
people don’t trust,” he said
,
studying me again.

“I don’t
trust
them either, but I don’t agree with the Council’s decision. If you’ll forgive the crass language, I’m completely pissed that Chalen escaped unscathed after all he did.”

He studied me again. “You are a paradox. You hide your emotions and shield the images in your mind, you’re on your way to becoming the first Maebown
in two millennia
, and you don’t trust the Seelie Council because of a decision they made under an edict that I’m certain you understand. Yet you seem to be
genuine.”

“I will consider it,” he said, after a long pause. “You, however, need to think more clearly about your actions in the future. I’m surprised the Council allowed you to stay after you used your
considerable
abilities against the Unseelie. Most impressive, especially for someone who hasn’t taken the Water trial.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“You had better be
.
”
He paused for a moment.
“If you are removed from the Weald, it is likely that Ozara will compel you to forget your abilities, to forget everything about the Fae.”

“What?”
I’d never considered it
or knew it was possible
.
None of them told me, either.
It made perfect, terrifying sense. The thought of being forced to forget was nearly unbearable, because memories were all I had of Gavin. I stiffled
my
fear—the fear of losing him completely. His memory was pain to me, but it was my pain—I owned it, and I wouldn’t let it go without a fight. I couldn’t let Aunt May down either.

“I am sorry, Maggie. I thought you should know and I guessed correctly
that
none of them told you. I am not saying I will be your
Treoraí, but I will accompany you to the Water trial—I always knew I’d have to go back to the Weald someday.”

There was a break in his
stoic
façade
—
he was sad
, painfully so.

“Thank you,” I managed, after getting my emotions back
under
control.

“Let’s talk about your practice now.”

“Practice? Swimming practice?”

“Don’t be obtuse,” He said, exhaling.

“Ugh,” I said to
under my breath
, “I hate that word.”

“Your elemental practice. If you don’t trust the Seelie, and I don’t blame you, you need to practice somewhere they
aren’t.
Your ability to hide images and emotions is remarkable, but any of us can tell you’re doing it. If you can, you need to learn to make it more believable. It could be a truly powerful gift
,
and perhaps the most important you learn.”

“How do I do that
?
”

“It may not be possible, mind you, but I want you to visit me, here, and we’ll work on it together.”

“When are you here?”

“I’m always here.”

“Thanks, but you know...” I said
,
feeling playful.

He smiled
.
“What?”

“You’re sounding an awful lot like a Treoraí.”

The smile spread across his face, finally big enough
to reveal
h
is perfect Fae teeth.

“Get out of here. I have a rather large litter box to clean.”

The drive back into town went quickly, but the feeling of isolation came hammering back. This time I found Jason Mraz on my iPod. He always cheered me up. I
knew I needed
to think about something
else
or I’d go nuts. The first thing
that crossed my mind
was how unhappy it made me that Sara and Gavin had kept the Seoladán a secret. It’s not like I
planned
to voluntarily spend time up there where Chalen hung out like some creepy garden troll.

Leaving the Weald scared me more than ever, because now that meant having my memories erased. Gavin was still with me. Images of him flashed in my mind all the time
. T
here were reminders of him everywhere I looked. Like he was actually here, I could see him in the seat next to me, I could hear his beautiful
baritone
voice in my head, and I could see his incredible smile. Just thinking about it made my knees weak.

There was no choice—I had to stay in the Weald. Even if it meant I would never see him again, I could live with that easier than not remembering him at all. It made no sense, and I knew I was being selfish over nothing more than a memory. I also knew that if everything was erased I wouldn’t
know
to miss him. In my heart, though, I didn’t think my life would mean as much. The memories were mine, all of them, and I wanted each one. Especially the kiss. Awkward and foolish as it
was
, I’d dreamt of doing it from the moment he stepped off the stoop into the snow and flashed his wicked smile.

If I was being honest with myself, it was more than Gavin’s memory holding me here—it was everything I’d learned
,
too—my ability to alter the elements. I
liked
the person I was becoming—I was stronger than before
.
I
had also
discovered a purpose—a purpose bigger than me. If I truly was a Maebown, there was a critical reason for it.
And I had made a promise to Aunt May.

TWENTY
-
SIX

SLOW FUSE

Everyone, except Rhonda, was at the cottage on the Fourth of July. She was undoubtedly consumed by a more pressing and important, Rhonda-centered, engagement. Mitch had a gaggle of his friends with him. He was every bit as popular as I predicted. So was I, with his friends at least. Scotty, the little redheaded boy who always seemed to be with Mitch, and Michael, the boy I met on the inflatable, competed to see who could sit next to me. They also took turns shooting dirty looks at Doug, who was to my left. Cute.

Dad had been strange all day, and showed no improvement as the evening lazily approached. Several times I caught him looking at everything—the cottage, the lake, and the gardens—with sad eyes. He didn’t say much to anyone, but when he did talk, he was oddly nostalgic and spoke in the past tense. It worried me.

After spending the first part of the evening on the patio getting pelted with Mitch’s snap-pops, we walked down to the lake. I tried to stay focused on everyone around me, but I kept drifting back to Gavin. There were painful reminders of his absence everywhere—the log where he told Caorann’s story was right in front of me.

Doug always seemed to have a way of engaging me that made all my troubles disappear. He tried again, but it didn’t work. Gavin’s departure was still too fresh. Nonetheless, he seemed to notice that a potential obstacle was gone. He gave me space, but not nearly as much as before. My reticence didn’t matter to him—he kept trying anyway. If I didn’t hurt so badly, I would have enjoyed being pursued.

With the sun setting, the temperature gradually dropped and everyone seemed to relax as it cooled off. Even Dad seemed to get better at twilight. It was another beautiful Ozark evening. The clouds on the western horizon were brilliantly lit in pinks and violets, and the sky behind them gradually blended into a deep sapphire blue. As the evening grew darker, the locusts became louder. At times, they were deafening.

At dusk, Dad and Doug set up a platform, about a hundred feet from our fire, and from it they began launching fireworks. I ignored the islands looming in the distance, keeping my back to them. I couldn’t relax, though. The Fae were everywhere and it made me uncomfortable. Most, if not all, were in physical form. Their presence was a mystery until I remembered Sara joking with me about watching fireworks. For such sophisticated beings, the Fae certainly enjoyed the little things.

It seemed Justice was the only creature that didn’t like fireworks. He lasted for two aerial bursts. He whimpered before he tucked his tail between his legs and darted up the hill to the cottage. Shortly after his departure, Doug and Dad struggled to get a big, gold-colored cylinder to light. Dad fussed about how expensive it was before they both backed up quickly. I could see, and sense, that the fuse had caught. After a few seconds, though, I also knew it had burned out—I sensed no fire. They waited a little while longer, and finally agreed it was a dud.

“No, step back, it’s about to go,” I yelled at them.

Both jumped back, and I tried to light it. I extended my mind until I could feel the cylinder, and then the burnt wick. It took no real effort, much less than I’d assumed—I had sensed the fire in each firework they shot off, and I simply recreated it down at the base. I had to make it a little hotter, but the fuse caught. The first shot fired loudly, and sent a barely visible package into the air that erupted into a giant red ring in the night sky. I knew exactly where it was before it burst, because I could see the shimmer of the energy in it just like I saw the Fae.