The Steward (35 page)

“Yeah, Aunt May taught me well.”

Just then I heard the familiar exhaust note of Gavin’s car coming down the drive, and the butterflies in my stomach took flight.

I was glad Sara came to visit this morning, but time with her did little to allay my nerves—they were back with a vengeance.

“What time will you be home?”

“We should be done by four, and be home by five-thirty.”

“Okay. Call if you run late.”

“I will.”

“Are you ready?” Gavin asked when I climbed into the Maserati.

He looked as beautiful as ever in his Khaki shorts, navy blue polo and canvas sandals. His hair was spiked, perfectly, and his smile seemed even more beautiful under the smoky sunglasses.

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

I put the duffel in the back seat and pulled the door shut. He asked me if I’d ever met Danny Johns, the attorney. Prying my eyes off of his ripped, muscular thighs and sculpted calves, I looked out the windshield and said no.

“You’re about to meet him.”

“Is he Fae?”

“Yes, Fire aligned. He’ll be conducting your trial today”

I was surprised. I had assumed that Gavin would conduct the trial, but when I thought about it, it did make sense that the Fae would use someone other than my
Treoraí.

“What is he like?”

“You will like him, I believe. He’s Seelie of course, and he is like me
—
he thinks very highly of human beings.”

I smiled, recalling what Sara said before she flew away.

“A Fae lawyer? Why?”

“It comes in handy given how much humans rely on their formal rules. It never ceases to amaze me how often you sue one another.”

Gavin explained that when the Fae agreed to the partnership, and my family took ownership of the land, it became necessary for the Fae to learn human law. Gavin joked that Danny always seemed to get his way in court. With the power of compulsion, I knew why. Sara’s transfer made even more sense now—the poor judge never stood a chance.

“So why stay in Fayetteville.”

“He likes it there—says it’s something about the name.” He grinned again.

“Fayette ... Fay ... oh no way!”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. It was originally called
Washington,
but there was more than a little
Fae
influence to change the name—ergo, the nickname
Fay-town
. It was too amusing to pass up.”

I laughed and relaxed. I had no idea whether the story was true, but I needed the diversion.

After about thirty minutes we drove past the city limits sign for Fayetteville, and I chuckled. Gavin slowed the car and I saw the entrance ahead on the right. An attractive, brown, wood-framed building with a steeply pitched roof sat to the right of a small parking lot and the gardens started just beyond. It was eleven o’clock when we parked and got out of Gavin’s car.

There were several people milling about in the gardens, which were set around the perimeter of a large grassy area the size of a baseball field. It was a quaint, beautiful place, but not where I would expect to take a Fire trial. I stared toward the garden and wondered if I brought any cash to get inside. Gavin cleared his throat. When I looked, he wore an amused look on his face.

“You’re not going in there—at least not yet.”

He pointed back toward the entrance to the parking lot and I noticed a trail that went north into the woods around the back of the brown building.

“Follow the trail for about thirty minutes until you see the
old man…
” he said placing special emphasis on the words. “
He’ll
be on the right just after you pass the two gentlemen with the dogs—it’s hot today and they’ll be the last ones down the trail until your done—I have it on good authority.”

I knew he meant the Fae were here and they had the entire area scoped out. I smiled at him, tucked the duffle bag under my arm, and began my walk. Around the back of the building the trail grew shaded, veering away from the gardens and deeper into the woods. After twenty minutes, sweat dripped from my forehead and the little drops ran down the small of my back. I walked a little faster, despite not wanting to take my Fire trial soaking wet. Five minutes later, the trail opened up into a very long, wide grassy meadow ringed by trees—mostly large pines. The trail wrapped around the meadow’s north side and headed toward a small wooded hill. There were a dozen Fae here. I didn’t look, but I could tell they were near.
I seem to be quite the attraction today.

I also saw two men walking in my direction—one was much taller than the other. They had dogs—they were the ones. I smiled to myself when I noticed that the taller man walking in front had a black standard poodle that looked just like Justice. The next man walked two smaller poodles, one cream and the other black. We passed each other where the trail turned south at the far end. It was amusing to me—they had a relaxed conversation, completely unaware that so many Fae were nearby.

I looked at my watch, the lucky one with scuffs—I’d been walking for twenty-eight minutes. At the southwest edge of the meadow, the trail cut through a grove of small cedar trees and behind them, the hardwoods took over. The smell of cedar and pine was refreshing—it made it seem a little cooler.

At thirty minutes I stopped. I stood next to a bench on the left side of the trail. I looked around, but didn’t see any elderly people.

I did see an enormous, very ancient looking tree—its limbs were larger than most of the trees in the Weald. There was a plaque mounted to a large brown stone denoting that the tree was the Arkansas state champion Black Oak. The sign read,
Quercus veluntina
, though I already knew that.

The old man, I thought. I had read where some traditions considered trees to be male. Besides that, my gut told me this was the place, and so did my senses. A Fae drew closer. I took a quick breath to control my anxiety as it came down the trail and stopped just behind the tree. An attractive man in his late twenties or early thirties stepped from behind the massive trunk.

It struck me immediately that his face had the qualities of a lion. He had thick, longish, medium brown hair that feathered out long enough to touch the collar of his dress shirt. His light brown, almost amber colored eyes were deep set under a prominent brow and above large cheekbones and a rounded jaw. His cheek muscles were pronounced and his upper lip was a little thicker on each side than in the middle. He didn’t walk as much as he strode. It reminded me of the way Gavin moved, like a large predatory cat, though Gavin’s movements reminded me more of a Jaguar than a lion—not that I knew much about either, it was just the impression I always got.

“Maggie, how are you?”

“Good, and you?”

“I’m quite well, thank you. I see you found the spot,” he said, turning to the giant oak. “Great tree, don’t you think?”

“Yes. Is it
special
?” I asked, wondering if it had some hidden significance.

“Other than its size and age, no. I simply like it. I thought this would be a great place for you to take the Fire trial, and it’s close ... I have to be in court at one-thirty.”

I laughed. This wasn’t even what I expected.

“I need to find the Fire sign now?”

“You’ve already found it, so to speak. This trial isn’t about finding the sign as much as it is about activating it. Unlike some of my kind, I don’t believe it’s necessary to waste time with puerile scavenger hunts. If you are Fire aligned, you’ll activate the sign. If you are not … then we’ll both leave in thirty minutes. May I see your bag please?”

“Yes.” I handed it to him.

“You have the summer stone?”

I nodded and pulled it from my pocket.

“Follow me, please.”

Danny was confident and he had an almost regal presence. He watched me with considerable interest, and smiled when I briefly put my hand on one of the lower branches. I felt a tinge of chill run down my spine, like I had with the lichen that morning after the Earth trial.

Danny pointed to a shady area behind the tree, away from the trail, and asked me to have a seat. The grass and weeds were cut short in a radius of about twenty feet. I almost sat down in the shade, but there was one big patch where light beamed down through an opening in the canopy. My gut told me to sit in the sun so I took a place facing the tree. Danny took my bag and sat in front of me with his back against the trunk, leaning slightly to the right so that a little beam of sunlight fell on his face.

“That’s the first test. Why did you choose the sunlight over the shade?”

“It’s the Fire trial, so I thought being in the sun was probably necessary, and there
is
a sundial in my bag.” I grinned.

He reached into the bag and handed it to me.

“You will activate the Fire symbol at noon, exactly at noon—typically we conduct the trial on the summer solstice, but you were occupied last week. No matter, today will work just fine. Now, Maggie O’Shea, what can you tell me about the Fire element?”

His unblinking eyes were locked onto me as though I were a gazelle or something. I thought about the symbols in the gazebo and about what I’d read.

“Fire is heat, light, and energy…”

His piercing stare continued and he nodded.

“It’s tied to summer and the South—it represents courage and leadership, and it also corresponds to soul.”

He nodded. “What else?”

“Well, some believe it represents destruction, some say creation and rebirth ... and it’s usually associated with passion.”

“Exactly. Final question before I leave you. Where is your passion, Maggie?”

I squirmed a little and flushed, desperately trying to keep the images of Gavin hidden in the back of my mind.

“I…”

“No…” he cut me off. “That is not a question you answer to me, it’s a question you answer to yourself.”

Danny laughed and stood up. He took the bag of small dark gray granules and spent several seconds casting them all around me in the grass, and then he moved away, walking back toward the trail and out of my sight behind the tree. I began trying to work it out. According to the shadow on the sundial, I had only moments.

This trial threw me off—I’d expected to have to find a blazing symbol cleverly hidden somewhere. I wasn’t prepared to sit here in front of it trying to figure out how to make it work. I knew the key was the same as the other trials—figuring out how all of this tied together.

I still didn’t know exactly what the tiny granules were, but after seeing him toss them in the grass, I suspected they were seeds—I really hoped it wasn’t gunpowder.

My mind drifted, momentarily, to what Gavin did that day at the beach. He forced the dandelions to go through their life cycle in a few seconds. Did I need to do the same? I thought about Danny’s question: what was I passionate about?

I’m passionate about art, and I’m passionate about the garden, but I’m the most passionate about swimming, I thought. I concentrated on those things and pictured each in my mind, one at a time. I relived the feeling I had before I hit the water at the state championships, and I thought about touching the wall first and seeing my time.

Nothing happened, but I knew why. I was still holding back.

I felt passionately about my friends and family, and I focused on Doug. Out of nowhere, the images of Doug in my nightmare flashed in my mind again and it filled me with anger. I didn’t reach up to wipe the tears. I let them flow—they were honest and I liked that. If I could help it, I wouldn’t allow anyone else I cared about to get hurt. When I opened my eyes nothing had changed and the sundial read noon. But I didn’t panic. Instead I concentrated on the warmth of the sun caressing my shoulders. I thought about my family, and how much I loved them. An image of Aunt May floated through my memories, of Candace opening her eyes in the hospital, of Mom when she sold her first vase, and of Mitch uncovering Dad’s ’67 fastback for the first time. My heart beat even faster.

Then I thought of him. I remembered how I felt when he held me at my birthday party, of his smile each time our eyes met by the lake. I saw stars for a moment, and felt dizzy. I was afraid to bring Gavin into the front of my mind with so many Fae close by, so I focused only on my feelings for him and I felt the familiar tingling in my stomach and knees—my heart raced even faster.
I love Gavin—he makes me weak, and he makes me happy.

I opened my eyes and didn’t recognize where I was. The tree was still there, but the color around me was wrong. Everywhere, flowers bloomed: red poppies, with yellow and orange highlights. They were radiant and bright—they looked like they were on fire. I felt the breath catch in my throat.

Directly in front of me, just inside the shade of the canopy, was the Fire sign. Just like the one in the gazebo, it contained an intricate triantán symbol for Fire and inside that, a spear symbol. It shimmered and glowed bright blue. It wasn’t a flame like I expected it to be, but I could feel it tingling on my skin, giving off heat. I put the red stone in place, and immediately it seemed to glow brighter than the Earth or the Air stones had.

When I finally looked up, Danny stood next to the tree, grinning at me, his intense stare replaced by a look of satisfaction.

“Oh, my gosh, what is that?” I nodded toward the sign.

“Technically, it’s nothing more than ionized gas—plasma. Some call it St. Elmo’s Fire.”

“I’ve seen an old movie with that name, but I didn’t know about this.”

He chuckled and shook his head.

“It can occur naturally when there is enough static electricity in the atmosphere, say during an intense lightning storm. It’s like the tiny blue flash you see in the dark when you shock yourself. On this scale, though, it typically manifests as an orb or ball on or near an object, like a roof, a ship’s mast, or the wings of a plane, but you’re producing this one.”

“I am?”

“Yes, you are Fire inclined and I presume you’re also well on your way to being the first Maebown in more than two-thousand years.”