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Authors: Christopher Shields

The Steward (45 page)

BOOK: The Steward
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He was perched on the rim of
the
fountain in the form of the creepy old man. More hideous, but less frightening than
his
younger version. I stopped in front of the greenhouse, the same place where I’d nearly been killed
,
and felt a violent shudder run through my body. Taking a deep breath, I wrestled for control of my emotions—the fear I
felt
was my own,
not compelled by Chalen
.
Too bad
!
I would
love to see
him banished.

“Maggie O’Shea, I’m honored. Please, closer.” He waved his long bony fingers toward the edge of the fountain. “I don’t
intend
to yell all morning.” He smiled.
Oh, please, wipe that stupid grin off your face.

I willed myself to walk forward
,
and thought of Sara again.
Sara, you said you’d be here.

“Ohhh, you miss the old vulture, don’t you?” He mocked
,
with a forced apologetic look.

“Crap” I said as I forced the images behind the screen in my mind. At the edge of the fountain I looked in. I expected it to be as filthy as the rest of
the
garden, but the water was clear. Even under a thin layer of algae, the mosaic in the bottom of the basin was absolutely visible.

“So,
would-be
Maebown, it is time for your most important trial.”

I pictured the lake in my mind, and wondered if he would follow me down to it. I was careful to keep my fears well back.

“Do you have the Water stone?”

“I do.” I patted it in my pocket.

I pictured the lake again.

“You simple-minded twit. You expect the Water trial to involve swimming or some other foolish thing
?

He exhaled and shook his head. “No such luck—state champion. Well, the truth is, I would love to make you swim to the base of the dam, but there is no point, really. Can you search your feeble mind and tell me what corresponds to Water—surely you have studied it.”

“I have. Fall...”

“Simplistic, obvious,” he snapped.

“It represents emotions, and some say the essense of life...”

“Some say?” He exhaled, loudly.

“And it corresponds to mind.”

He smiled. “Yes, and do you know what that means?”

“I will have to keep control of my mind?”

He laughed loudly,
and in a snide voice, said,
“No, Maggie O’Shea,
would-be
Maebown, it means you will have to do something, quite frankly, I think is a human weakness—your weakness in particular. You
will
have to think.”

He stepped down from the edge of the fountain and walked
to
within arms reach
of
me, the closest he’d ever been. I shuddered again. He smiled and shook his head.

“I will not harm you ... it is
forbidden.

Bending over, he scooped up
a handful of mud and
pressed
it between his white fingers until
he
formed a ball. He looked up at me and smiled as he continued to work it, much like Mom did
with
raw clay.
While
he flattened it into a disc
,
h
e hummed a little song. It was the tune from the music box in Aunt May’s room.
I knew it was no
coincidence
—it was a vile ploy
. A
deep
convulsion
rushed
violently
through my body as I fought to regain control of myself. But the truth was, I wanted nothing more than to run from him.

He continued to hum, occasionally glancing up at me with his dull
,
foggy blue eyes. The black
,
muddy form began
to
chang
e
color
—light brown at first, then to tan and finally white
. It was nearly translucent. He shaped it until
it was
perfectly round and flat. As I watched, tiny painted flowers formed on the surface in a continuous
,
interwoven
ribbon
around the rim—it looked just like a saucer from Lola’s tea set.

Seeing it in his hand made me angry, and I felt as violated as I had when he compelled me with the dream of Doug. When
he completed the
perfect replica, he raised his forefinger
—t
he nail turned black and grew into a sharp
,
pointed claw. He wasn’t compelling fear—he didn’t need to. He pressed his nail into the center of the saucer, and slowly began to spin it. I could hear the scraping sound as his claw cut into the center. A few flecks of white dust popped free
around the black point
. They were followed by more, until a div
o
t appeared. He pulled his claw out and blew the dust from the surface,
puffing up his pock marked cheeks
. He continued to hum as he put the saucer up to the sun
to reveal
a
tiny
hole
in
the center.

“This will do,” he said
,
handing it to me.

I hesitated for a moment, but reached out to grab it. For a split-second, his cold finger grazed mine and I shuddered again. I took a breath and calmed myself.

“You
will
place it on the surface of the water when you
a
re ready to begin. Not until, because you will only have moments before it fills and sinks. If it slips below the surface,
you fail
. Once you place the saucer, you will have until it sinks to conjure the Water symbol. You do that from in there.”

He pointed to the grimy ob
e
lisk in the center of the basin. I saw a triangular opening at the base
,
underneath the carving of the man’s face. I
immediately noticed that the
strands of his swirling beard
hung
over
and around an
opening.
With the opening so covered up,
I
wondered
whether I would be able to get the stone in place using my Air ability
. As I studied it, I
didn’t think I could. Were it not for the edges of the stone carving standing in the way, I might, but my control still wasn’t that good.

A gust of wind picked up and blew across the water
,
and I watched
as
ripples
danced
on the surface. He threw a small stone into the
water,
and it sent a ring of ripples outward. I looked at the saucer
,
and knew
that the slightest
ripple
c
ould be enough
to
swamp it.

“Yes, any of this might sink it—even a stray leaf,” he said, laughing at me as the wind blew hundreds of them across the garden. “I am aware of you
r
talent with Air. You will have to use it to keep the wind from disturbing the water. Regardless of how the saucer sinks, the result will be the same.
You will fail.

I realized that meant I wouldn’t be able to cross the basin. To block the wind, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate hard enough to place the stone without doing it by hand. I had to cross the surface without disturbing it, somehow.

“I’m feeling magnanimous
,
Girlie Girl
—I’ll give you five minutes to begin
,

he
said, looking
dismissively down his thin, crooked nose.

I almost puked. He mocked Aunt May, and his put-on accent revolted me. I had to ignore him, and control my … thoughts.
Sick piece of…

The wind blew
hard
against my back,
shoving
me
forward
. I pushed out against it, forming an invisible barrier, but the wind whipped around the outside edges until I extended it, slowly, probing with my mind around the
perimeter
of the fountain until it closed on the other side. Immediately
,
I noticed that I couldn’t sense any of the Fae who had gathered in the forest. I couldn’t sense Billy
, either
. I couldn’t sense anyone except Chalen, who smiled broadly.
It reminded me of the night Aunt May showed me the photo of Kyle—when everything went silent.

“Alone at last
,” he said with a grimace
.

For a moment I considered letting my barrier fall because I felt trapped. When I looked
toward
Chalen, though, he climbed back onto the wall, facing the pool
,
and watched. He
seemed to
pose no danger at the moment. Even though I couldn’t sense the other Fae, I could see them—at least those in physical form.
It’ll be okay, just get to it.

“Four minutes” he said, laughing again.

The water in the basin looked about five feet deep, maybe six. There was nothing in it except a few small fish darting about, seemingly unaware of what
was happening on
the surface. Beyond me, leaves bounced off my barrier and slid down to the ground.

I studied the side of the basin. If I removed a stone from the base, the water would drain and I could simply walk across the bottom and put the Water stone in place. I would have to remove one big enough to drain the fountain before the saucer sank. Where I stood, the ground surface was halfway up the side. The water wouldn’t drain
there
. I walked around to the south side. The ground level was the lowest
on that side
—the edge of the fountain was at my chin. A large stone at the base looked like it was near the bottom of the fountain. It was the only place around the basin where the bottom appeared to be exposed.
That
had to be it, I thought.

I waited until the surface of the water was perfectly still—a few leaves floated harmlessly on top.

“Thirty seconds!”

BOOK: The Steward
4.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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