The WishKeeper (The Paragonia Chronicles) (28 page)

“It time to go,” Shea said, hoping to break the sudden possibility of a pep talk. Beren helped Elanor straighten up, despite the pain coursing through her body. She needed to be, act and look the part of the Captain even though the curse hadn’t completely taken over. “We’ll have to carry you, Mom. But once we get near The Point, you’re going to have to grapple Dad up. Erebus can’t see me.”

“I’d prefer you stayed behind and didn’t…” Elanor said. Shea knew what her mom was going to say.

“No more staying behind, Mom. We’re granting a wish today. And I’m going to help.” She reached for her mother’s arm, attempting to wrap it over her shoulder and help her father carry her, but Elanor took her hand instead.

“Shea, I -,” Elanor started.

“I know, Mom. I love you too.”

Elanor’s arm softly cradled Shea’s neck. Shea propped her mother up and nodded to Beren.

The world ended for Elanor when she destroyed the first True Love Wish, and it continued to end, over and over again, every time she would wake from Erebus’ curse and then fall back into it a few painful moments later. Though she didn’t tell Beren and Shea that this time would be the last time her world would end, that she didn’t have the strength to fight off the return of the curse nor the resilience to wake from it again. But feeling her daughter’s words resonate through her crippled body - the only words she ever longed to hear - stole away her fear and left it lifeless, never to return. If her world was to end again, she had the solace in knowing her only true wish had finally been granted.

39

Exclamation Point

The wind whipped across the edge of The Point, pushing and pulling Grayson and Miranda as they stood, back to back, wrapped in smoky handcuffs. Completely surrounding the Wishing Pool, Erebus’ fog circled the only source of light still left in the valley. Dim as it was, the Pool shined, forcing back the encroaching darkness and cast an eerie glow against the pained WishMakers’ faces.

Grayson and Miranda were living, experiencing, and unable to shake off the oddity of such a moment. Fear, most often, comes from the well of the unknown; the unfamiliar happenings outside of one’s own comfort zone, but even though Grayson and Miranda had been told what was happening and it was clear they were not dreaming, it was beyond their ability to control. Barely a couple hours prior, Grayson and Miranda were discussing what was missing in their relationship - a seemingly difficult conversation at the time - but now, stuck on top of a mountain and handcuffed by fog, they were merely trying to hold on to any sense of sanity.

To his left, at the other end of the Pool, Grayson looked at Thane. The little fairy - so much smaller than the humans - was sitting along the marble edge, hunched over with his hands also tied behind his back. He was staring at the rippling water, and Grayson could see how defeated and hopeless his new little friend looked. Was there any hope left? Was the image of Thane mirroring the same feelings inside of him? As he felt Miranda release a deep breath, he could tell the same inner dialogue was inside of her, and the sudden inability to fight off a rush of determination burned inside of Grayson. He stood up straight and let the determination consume him. Despite all that had happened at home - his best friend walking out and his marriage in shambles - he couldn’t let go of the rising belief that this wasn’t over. He wasn’t going to let it end like this. It needed to be on their terms. If they were to end their marriage and go their separate ways, it wasn’t going to be because of someone else’s actions. Miranda was right behind him. She was still there and even though he hadn’t the foggiest idea as to where exactly they were physically, he knew where his relationship was - balancing on the edge of a cliff.

“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.