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Authors: Christopher Shields

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BOOK: The Steward
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“It is my decision, thank you, and I have not made up my mind yet,” I said calmly. “When I do, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

I pictured a large stone falling from the roof and hitting Devin on the head. They both saw the image in my head. Sara laughed, and to my surprise, so did he.

“Pity you cannot see what I am thinking,” Devin said. A smile spread across his face.

Sara shot him a quick look and then focused on me. “I believe you will make the correct decision, Maggie. I also believe you embody the best qualities of your family and will make an unrivaled Steward. You passed this trial faster than anyone in your family ever has.”

Her compliment caught me off guard, quelling my anger. “Really? Did everyone get stuck in the hole?”

Devin smiled. “No, Miss O’Shea. You are the first to tackle this trial—shall we say—
head on.”

“Oh,” was all I could manage. I felt my face blush.

“But Sara is correct. Your control at such a tender age is as astonishing as it is unique,” Devin said, smiling again. “It would be unfortunate for someone with your gifts to walk away from the Weald. You have many months to decide whether to accept our offer, and you will have until your eighteenth birthday to learn what you must learn before you step into that role.”

“Wow, so I’m the only one clumsy enough to fall?” I whispered.

Sara shook her head, “No Maggie. You don’t understand. The trials are individually tailored to the person. Your fear of being trapped in a cave is powerful—Devin and I both saw the images and felt the emotion, the fear, as you entered the cave. While I might not agree with the test Devin devised, it was his choice—and you were never in any real danger.”

Devin nodded. “That is true. We would have pulled you out before your family got home, or sooner, if necessary.”

Devin did this?
I glared at him and shook my head. His nonchalance was offensive.

“Please, I am not cruel.” He rolled his eyes.

Sara shook her head with a faint smile on her face. “Devin, thank you for your time. I believe Maggie and I will be leaving now.”

Devin smiled and politely nodded. “I look forward to your next visit, Steward of the Weald.”

With that he turned and walked into the cave wall, disappearing behind the surface. The amber stone still glowed when I retrieved it from the Earth symbol etched into the wall. It felt warm to the touch. It felt good.

“Shall we?” Sara pointed at the back wall.

“Shall we what?”

“Shall we leave?” she smiled, still pointing at the stone surface.

“But the opening is back that way,” I said, pointing at the opposite wall.

“If you insist on climbing back out, be my guest. Myself, I would like to leave the easy way.”

I looked at the wall and said, “Stairs out.”

Instantly, the walls of the cave began to transform. While dark, I could clearly see stairs emerging in an opening where there was only solid rock before. After a few moments, daylight streamed down from above and I heard Justice above, barking into the new hole. I called to him but he refused to come down. Aunt May did say that Poodles were the smartest dogs.

FIVE

BUBBLES

Justice waited for me at the top of the steps. Wagging his tale, he whined once I stepped out of the opening and into the sunlight. I took a deep breath of the fresh air I’d missed so much in the cave. Justice was happy too and jumped on me to put his paws on my shoulders. “Told you I’d be right back,” I said between the licks he covered my face with.

The air felt warmer than it had been this morning but still cooler than inside the cave. Sara followed me out and turned, placing her hand on the opening. It disappeared.

“Always important to leave things the way you find them,” She said.

She walked with me back to the bluff. I tugged on the ladder, but it held fast.

“I wedged it in between some rocks. I’ll go down,” I said as I turned to Sara.

“Just a moment,” she said.

She walked behind the big pine and disappeared. Several seconds later, I felt the rope ladder go slack and immediately Sara reappeared next to the pine, smiling.

“Thought you might not want to climb back over the bluff,” she said with a wink.

I gathered my things and we headed back down the path to the cottage. As we walked, I studied her features and imagined how easy it was for her to appear so graceful. How her first steps in physical form must’ve been more graceful than a dancer’s.

“Actually, Maggie, if I’m reading the images correctly, my first steps were probably as awkward as your first steps. Remember, I don’t actually have legs. I spent a long time studying what I saw humans doing. Not only did I have to create legs, but I had to learn all of the nuances of human movement to make my legs, and my body, do exactly what I wanted them to do. I had to concentrate on keeping my feet on the ground at all times.”

I considered her explanation and thought about the images in the cave. “Can all Fae project images?”

“No, not all of us can. It’s learned—part of many years of study and devotion. Many of my kind have no desire to learn. They have long since removed themselves from the physical world.”

“What about taking solid form—can all of you do that?”

“No. It takes devotion to learn, and it’s generally discouraged. Taking physical form is dangerous for us.”

“Dangerous? But aren’t Fae immortal?

“Yes, we are immortal in that we have the potential to live forever, but that doesn’t mean that we are impervious to wounds or immune to death.”

She stepped down over a stone and stopped. Turning to me, she smiled and stared into my eyes. “There are many who won’t like what I’ve just told you. Those same Fae would be openly hostile should I continue, so I won’t.”

I knew better than to ask more, but I also had the feeling that Sara told me that Fae could be hurt, and even killed, for a reason.

“Sara, where do Fae come from?”

“That is a philosophical question no Fae can honestly answer. My kind have debated the subject for millennia, but I fear we are no closer to resolution now than we were during the last ice age. When you and I have more time, I’ll share the leading theories, but you can rest assured that we didn’t spring forth from a baby’s laugh. We are neither fallen angels nor gods as some humans have claimed.”

“Sara, are each of the remaining trials going to be similar to this one?”

Sara strolled ahead of me and did not turn as she spoke.

“No, and I cannot say what each of the different trials will involve—even if I wanted to tell you. Each trial combines the attributes of the elements and something unique to the Steward. That means no trial is ever the same. But do not worry about that. The trials will come in time and we will learn whether you have any additional inclinations.”

She told me the next trial would be Air and would occur in late March. That would be followed by the Fire trial in June and the Water trial in October.

I considered the Water trial for a moment and hoped it would involve swimming. Since I spent nearly all of my free time in water, I just knew I’d be Water inclined. The lake was just visible through the trees, and while warmer than it had been, it was still too cold to swim. The Water trial didn’t scare me, though. In Florida I swam in the ocean all the time. I was a state champion at fifteen, and at least one of my ancestors had passed the Water trial. That comforted me. Besides, I can out-swim anyone I know. It’s my sport, and who among my ancestors could hold their breath for over four minutes?

We made our way down a set of stone stairs between two bluffs. The lowest step was broken, cracked and pushed out of place by a tree root. Placing my hand on it, I closed my eyes and imagined the stone repairing itself. When I opened my eyes the step reformed in front of me until it was perfect. Sara smiled.

“Thanks for the elemental assist. How long before I can do that by myself?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but Lola created these stairs within the first year,” Sara said.

She paused and abruptly turned her head back up the hill. She grew rigid and I
felt
her anger, even though her smooth face was still pleasant and passive. I traced her line of sight and saw what she stared at. Chalen glared at me, perched on top of a bluff fifty feet above us, like he did two weeks before. Apprehension caused me to take a step back.

They took turns looking at one another and glancing back at me—watching them made me uncomfortable. I realized that they were communicating with each other—apparently having a serious discussion. Their expressions didn’t change at all, but I could feel the tension in the air. Instantly I knew Chalen was Fae. Images of all the strange things I’d seen before going in the cave flashed through my mind.

At once, I felt isolated and alone. A sense of dread washed over me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. My heart raced and I had the urge to look behind me. Just as quickly, I felt peace and contentment. My heart slowed and my muscles relaxed. They did it—played chess with my emotions.

The sky grew darker and the wind picked up filling the air with leaves and the sound of distant thunderclaps. Without being told, I knew that they caused the commotion. Almost as soon as it started, the wind died down and the sky seemed to grow lighter.

“Earth aligned, I see,” Chalen finally said in a dry, wretched voice.

I stared at him, not knowing how to respond. Fortunately, Sara broke the silence.

“Yes, she passed the trial.”

I was positive they have already had this conversation, but merely talked aloud for my benefit.

“Looks like rain,” he said. Even from fifty feet, I could make out his smug expression.

“Yes it does … and strong winds,” Sara replied. “I think I’ll escort Maggie down to the cottage just in case—you never know how quickly things can
blow up
around here.”

“Oh, why such a hurry? Maggie owes me a visit, I believe,” Chalen said, keeping his gaze fixed on me.

To my side, I heard Justice’s low growl and felt him press against my leg. He took a position between Chalen and me, baring his long teeth and growling a little louder.
Poodles are brave, too.

“She’ll be ready for the Water trial in October. We’ve already agreed to the date. Good day,” Sara said. Her expression was pleasant but her tone acerbic.

Behind her a gust of wind picked up and blew leaves in Chalen’s direction. He ignored them. I wondered what Sara meant by her comment regarding the Water trial in October. Surely he didn’t have anything to do with it.

“Don’t get your feathers ruffled, Sara, I know the schedule and I look forward to spending some
quality time
with Miss O’Shea. I was merely talking about a social call to congratulate the
future
Steward of the Weald Fae. That is, if she decides to stay.”

He paused for a moment and looked at Sara before turning his gaze back to me. His face was grim, but his voice was patronizing and he talked to me like I was a scared puppy. “I hope you do decide to stay. I look forward to spending the next
sixty or seventy years together
, Maggie.”

He nodded his head and scowled at me with a slight, downward smile.

I cringed at the thought of spending even ten more seconds with him, and looked away. Chalen was repulsive, and he made me uncomfortable.

“Maggie, let’s be on our way,” Sara suggested. “Chalen has things to do, and we should allow him to get to them.”

Sara never took her eyes off of him. She didn’t like Chalen—I could see that even though she kept her face perfectly emotionless. The tension between them was strong—I felt it on my skin like static electricity.

After pausing for only a moment, I managed to say, “Good bye, Chalen.”

“Yes, good bye,” he said, returning his gaze to me. With his cruel downward smile in place, he effortlessly stood and spun in a single motion, then darted back up the hill as quickly as a deer.

I glanced back at Sara who seemed more relaxed, though I could still sense the tension. She no longer looked up the hill, but I got the impression she was
watching
Chalen’s movement. In a few seconds, the last remnants of tension disappeared and the foreboding feeling I had drifted away.

We headed down the path toward the cottage and away from Chalen. Sara didn’t move until Justice and I were in front of her. I felt her behind me, though she didn’t make a noise when she walked.

Trudging down the hill, I tried to work it out. I knew, somehow, that Chalen was Unseelie. He had to be, but what I didn’t understand was why he was here on our land. Devin didn’t tell me much about the clans, but I had the impression that the Unseelie and the Seelie were bitter enemies. What Devin said about the Unseelie hating humans, feeding upon our deepest fears, and rejoicing in our pain, bothered me the most, though. It didn’t make sense to me.
Why is an Unseelie caretaker—talk about a misnomer—living just up the hill?

At a fork in the path I went right, toward the cottage. Justice and Sara stayed beside me. Recalling my first visit with Chalen, I remembered thinking he was a statue at first. Then I remembered Mitch’s face, and being scared, and feeling protective, all at the same time. Chalen had made me feel uneasy when he moved toward me in the weed snarled garden, and I remembered how the bird seemed to intervene then.

“Oh my ... Sara ... wait a minute. That was…” I stuttered.

“Yes, that was me,” Sara said without breaking stride.

“And this morning?”

“Yes, that was me, too.”

Everything I’d seen started to make sense. “And each time I saw a wolf?”

“Yes, that was Chalen—the disappearing act as well,” she said, predicting my next question. “I think it’s best if we continue this conversation down the hill.”

We reached the Toy Box and walked though the cottage garden. When the thick front door of the cottage closed behind us, I turned to her.

“Chalen is Unseelie, isn’t he? He did all of that to scare me—to get some kind of sadistic fix.”

Sara nodded.

BOOK: The Steward
9.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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