She closed her eyes, inhaling. It tasted herbal and sweet, like drops of undissolved honey at the bottom of a teacup, and she felt that air cleanse the city smog from her lungs.
Everything about this place was just so full of life.
Pulled from her reverie, she became aware of Lori at her side. The older woman gave her a somewhat sympathetic look as she, too, looked out over the landscape.
"You gonna be okay?"
She mulled Lori's words over in her head. It was best to be honest, right? The city was all she'd known these past few years, yet now here she stood in the place she thought she'd never see again.
"I don't know." She eyed her with a mix of worry and muted awe before looking around. "Where is Adagium?"
"He's been asleep since that night." She jerked her chin towards the south. Down the rolling landscape the top of a tall stone tower poked out of the trees. "Guess he used too much power," she added quietly.
He was still asleep? She remembered that night—pain—fear—death. Then being alive again, ripped from the squirming cold abyss and inhaling the warmth and magic of life like it was for the first time. She sensed something darker was going on but delving into that mystery wasn't what she wanted right now. Right now, she wanted to get settled into her new home and figure out just what it was she was supposed to do. If Adagium was still asleep, perhaps it wasn't his time to help yet.
She knew deep down she wasn't up for filling the shoes her grandmother left behind—not just yet. But what it ultimately boiled down to was this: If she didn't do it, who would? Looking back to the tower, she knew it would only be a matter of time.
"You think he's going to wake up soon?"
"Don't know. Probably just needs his lady in shining armor to come wake him, eh?"
"Oh, gross, Lori. The guy's older than literal rocks. I'd rather take my chances with someone my own age."
"Hmm, I'm telling Ignis you said that."
"Don't you—"
Lori's warm laugh filled the air.
They fell back into silence before Lori gave her shoulder a light squeeze.
"You'll do great, kiddo. And whether you take to it like a pro or struggle to find your place, me, Tal, Griff, and Ignis… We're all here for you." She glanced down to her watch and made a face. "Anyways, I have to catch Tal before he closes shop. If you need anything, feel free to stop in anytime. I'm sure Masae and Ignis would love to see you again, too!"
"I will. Thank you so much."
"Anytime!" she called, hurrying down the path that led to the bus stop and, beyond that, the small coastal town of Miner's Cove.
Charlie waved at the woman's retreating form, silently wishing she'd been able to stay just a little longer. There was something to her kindness and warmth now that seemed more subdued. Regardless, she still radiated that feeling like, no matter what you say or do, she'd still look at you with approval and love. Maybe that was just how moms were.
At least, the good ones.
Reveling in the natural serenity, Charlie sighed. As much as she wanted to hole up inside the house, she knew she couldn't. At least, not forever. Once she got settled in, it would be a good idea for her to walk around town and meet everyone again. She only hoped it would be easier than she feared. There was a lot for her to process, being her first day back home, though she wasn't entirely dismissive of the suggestion. She did want to see everyone—old and new. She really did. Just not so…soon.
"Tomorrow, then," she finally decided aloud, as though to give herself that last little 'oomph'. It was something to look forward to, after all.
‡ † ‡
Charlie was up at sunrise, ready to seek out the property's boundaries. She greeted the new day full of adrenaline and an eagerness to lose herself within the purity of the wild. And though the land itself was huge, there were plenty of great timberlands surrounding the main orchard where nature was left to run wild. Pulling an old walking stick from the cabin-sized shed behind the house, she set out.
From north to south, a well-maintained dirt path cut completely through the orchard, ending at the southern stone bridge that led to the ranch further south. A well-maintained steppingstone path cut south through the trees directly before the house itself, stopping roughly fifty yards ahead before turning west.
Colored ribbons fluttered around the trunks of each tree, marking the separate plots—red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Seven plots in all. And within each of those plots sat two to three little sprite huts, each no bigger than a standard doghouse. Some were made from the stumps of old trees, decorated with handmade ornaments and small doors, steps and tiny paths. Others were more primitive and made from stacked stone and thatched rooves.
As nice as it was to remember happier times, Charlie didn't understand why they now sat almost lifeless. They radiated a sort of coldness, like the sprites that once lived within them had died. Judging by the bountiful trees surrounding her, she knew that wasn't the case. Sprites were the physical manifestation of both life and magic of the land itself, so if they had died, the lands they watched over would also suffer.
She shrugged it off. Perhaps the arrival of a new owner pushed them to watch from afar?
The western path led her down to a lake. A sturdy pier jutted into those crystal waters, at the end of which bobbed a small wooden boat. Never having gone on the boat herself, Charlie set off for the western bank, only to discover a hidden path that led to a small quarry. Other than the rocks and a miner's table, the quarry was a dead end.
Back on the main property she moved further south to the great stone bridge, looking beyond the trees that lined either side of the river. Below she could see the old ranch owned by a quirky but kind woman named Marla. Cows and sheep and pigs wandered within their fences, and thickets of oak and maple dotted what land wasn't covered by flowering berry bushes and pockets of dark, deep water.
Charlie moved on towards the path to Marla's house, but just before reaching it she stopped. Sticking up out of the trees to the west was the tower. Curious, she doubled back through the trees, stopping at the foot of the smooth stone steps that led up the home's hill. Her eyes fell on the blackened windows and shriveled, dead vines sprawling up the sides. From looks alone, the place seemed abandoned. Muttering a soft prayer under her breath, she turned back for the orchard. What else could she do? The odd sensation of being unwelcome that radiated from the construct largely aided in this decision.
She focused instead on taking a closer look at the lake. Such clear, blue water surrounded by wildflowers and soft grass. Charlie immediately decided it would be a swimming spot, remembering just unbearable the summers there could get.
The fruit trees in front of her house were already full of fruit, ripe and ready for harvest. She almost sang when she bit into one. It was so sweet! A pie made from those apples would surely become a favorite by anyone who tried it. Charlie just needed to learn how to bake… It was something she knew Grandma Marianne would approve of with how often the house was filled with the appetizing aromas of all things sweet and savory baking in that ancient oven.
Circumstances being what they were, Charlie had found herself on a bus to Miner's Cove only days after reading Lori's letter. She hadn't stopped to think of everything she was literally abandoning in the city—she was more focused on just why she needed to return home. Now that she was finally here, Charlie felt the huge weight settling onto her shoulders.
She didn't know the first thing about being a Guardian—she was too busy thinking about why she needed to come home rather than what would happen after her arrival. She'd watched her family when she was little, sure, but it was just them tending to the huts or making little charms out of gemstones they'd gotten from the mines. Little things, basic magics, and no combat training—just what she'd witnessed the few times she snuck out to follow her grandmother.
All she knew for certain was how to run and maintain the orchard—picking and bagging the fruit, maintaining the manifest, bud
geting, properties of the soil, and what trees were ready and when. Otherwise, she had no one to guide her, no knowledge of what was truly expected of her as the next Guardian, and no way to research it. Lori had offered all she knew, but she was only the Trusted—she knew what went on behind the scenes, protected what and when she could, and handled correspondence between outside organizations and the protectors of the town.
With Adagium essentially MIA, she didn’t know where to start. Seeing how little she knew—and how much homework would go into even scratching the surface—Charlie stopped for the first time to question if this was the right choice.
Though it didn't really matter. This orchard was home. And becoming a Guardian was her only choice. She had to make it work. If she was going to pick up where Marianne left off, she'd need to prove that she had the foresight to find her own way. If Marianne was anything, it was meticulous—constant late nights of notetaking and research.
That was where to begin.
With that thought driving her to look forward Charlie headed into the house, pulled the oldest notebooks from the shelf, and set to reading them.
II
Her brain hurt.
Marianne's journals were stuffed to bursting with entries, drawings, pressings, and even clippings from pages that looked to be handwritten on old parchment. Detailed notes were crammed into the sidelines—properties of gemstones, levels of magic, the various shadows, herbs and their uses, and so much more. She absorbed the information like a natural, but the books that left Charlie reaching for the painkillers were the business ledgers.
It's not like she wasn't able to comprehend them. No, they were all meticulously detailed and laid out in easy-to-understand terminology. It was more like she finally realized just how out of her league she was.
Going beyond that, the various creatures that had to be fended off tugged more at Charlie's curiosity than anything else. Nestled within the handwriting sat sketches of bizarre creatures she hoped would only ever stay in her darkest nightmares, but she knew full well they were all too real.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket and, with great effort, Charlie tore her eyes from the notebooks. It was a message from Tal, asking if she wanted to join them at the saloon later that night. With how he so casually dropped the fact his son and both of Lori's kids would be there—along with 'everyone' else—she got the impression she couldn't just hole herself up like she wanted to.
She groaned, remembering her promise to go to town today. It wasn't that she was against meeting everyone. On the contrary, she was actually excited about seeing how the town's dynamics had changed. She just didn't know if she was emotionally ready to build any meaningful relationships yet. Or if she was even able to anymore.
One thing she always tried to do was smile on the outside, even if she was falling apart within. But being home again—the last place she truly felt like her smile was genuine—she didn't want to act anymore. She wanted it to be real. It was her chance at a fresh start in a place she knew was 'home'. She wanted—no, she needed—to form some kind of real human connection here.
She, Griff, and Ignis were always together; playing through the trees, making up adventures and acting them out. Charlie couldn't count the times the three of them got into trouble and stood with heads bowed as Marianne reprimanded them.
Charlie slowly tapped out her reply, asking what time.
But with real connection there came the unavoidable chance of experiencing real pain. Miner's Cove was so far from the pain of the concrete jungle, its songs nothing like the pretty lies that built only to destroy. All she had to do was break from the big city fear of boredom and rejection and get out there and just be herself. Maybe her old friends would help ease her back into the town she'd become a stranger to over the years.
Or maybe a quick walk to the beach would help.
It would be a strange night for sure, she told herself as she walked to the bathroom. She could gather her courage on the walk, and then nurse her nerves later with a drink or two to get back into the swing of things. A win/win, right?
‡ † ‡
Wind gently moved the rope barricade, and the waves rolled to their own steady rhythm. Seagulls flew in from all across the South Feather Sea, hovering on the breeze and pecking at little pebbles and shells that spotted the glittering sands. The familiar, almost whimsical tune of the waters helped steady Charlie's anxious mind and she let herself sway in time with it, eyes closed as she stood at the far end of the docks.
If she listened hard enough, she could make out the voices of the few townsfolk who joined her by the water—Jason, the muscle head grandson of the elderly Hanscombs. Hannah, the same prim and prissy glamour girl she'd been during childhood. She also heard a voice she didn't recognize—an older man who'd claimed the ramshackle cabin on the beach as his home.
And every voice cut like a knife, no matter how familiar Charlie was with them or not. She wondered if she was even welcomed in Miner's Cove anymore, if she even dared attempt to add her cadence to the wild and free song of the small coastal blip. Life had gone on without her…but somehow it was all still the same.
Opening her eyes, she watched the sun glitter on the water, attempting to ignore the gnawing sensation of eyes on her. She didn't know how she knew, but she just did. Turning to the beach at her far left, she caught the gaze of a dark-skinned young man who towered over the distracted boy playing in the sand at his feet. It took a second, but her heart leapt when she realized just who he was.
Gone was the pudgy, vertically challenged boy of nine years ago; Griff now easily towered like a tree and held an impressive—if somewhat imposing—physique. His once wild curls were now closely cropped against his head with the tribal markings of his late mother's heritage painstakingly etched into swirling designs that fanned out behind his ears. He smiled widely as he beckoned her to join him. Eels wriggled in her gut, but even as Charlie approached, she found the same bright, welcoming light in his honey eyes.
"Holy. Shit. You're really here! Dude! Charlie, my girl!" He grabbed her around her waist and spun her around, laughing.
"I won't be back for long if you smother me!" Back on solid ground, Charlie wavered a second before forcing a smile. "Lori spoiled the secret, didn't she?"
Griff shook his head. "Nope! I had a dream."
"A dream?" she laughed. "Okay, magic-boy."
"Oh, come on! But for real. My dreams are normally garbage, though. But it doesn't matter! You're really, really back! This is awesome!" He made a strange face and immediately threw up his hands. "Uh, I mean—! I'm not excited about your grandma… I-I mean—"
"Hey, now, it's fine. I knew what you meant." She smiled for emphasis, and thankfully that seemed to calm the big guy down.
The little boy who had once been happily making sandcastles by Griff's feet stopped and now stared in Charlie's direction. His rigid form and flat eyes spoke of unfamiliarity as he flicked his gaze back and forth between them. Griff caught notice and ruffled the boy's hair.
"This is Nate. My little bro." He beamed down at him. "You were too young to remember, but Charlie was mine and Iggy's best friend when we were kids."
Charlie gave Nate her best smile. The name was familiar—where had she heard it before? She'd always had a soft spot for kids, their honesty and innocence. Before she could say anything, a stern voice made all three of them turn around.
"Griffith Bryn Alavai!" A young redhead, elfin in appearance, crossed the sands, her long braid bouncing over her shoulder. She hardly spared a glance at Charlie as she narrowed her eyes. "How many times have I told you not to make Nate late for his afternoon lessons? You know your dad will get upset if he misses any!"
Griff, eyes wide, nervously looked to Charlie. "S-sorry, Sophie. It's just that—well, Charlie came back and all and—I-I forgot—"
She sighed. "I'll let it slide for now, but this is the last time, okay? I'm telling your dad next time." A touch of pink rose to her cheeks as she regarded Charlie for the f
irst time. "Oh, I'm sorry about that. You're Marianne's granddaughter, right?"
Charlie smiled, waving off the ass-chewing she was so ripping Griff for later. "That's me. I'm Charlie."
"Sophie," she replied, offering her hand to shake. "And this is Tia." She motioned to a little girl behind her that Charlie hadn't noticed until she peeked out from behind Sophie's legs.
"Aw, she's adorable. Is she yours?"
"Nah, she's not mine. She's Troy's little goddaughter. I just teach her and Nate a few days a week. The elementary school doesn't send a bus to the Cove, so they're homeschooled."
It was Charlie's turn to feel like a heel. "Sorry, I didn't mean to assume."
"Haha, it's fine. Well, I need to get these two to the library for their lessons. It was nice meeting you, Charlie," she said with a warm smile."
You, too." Charlie waved to the children as they followed after Sophie.
"Well, that was a helluva meeting."
"And I even got to see your face turn shades." Charlie smiled as she and Griff walked north towards the town square. They could count as four introductions, right? They had been mercifully easy, and she hoped the rest of them would go as smoothly.
"Oh, lay off. So, you're joining us at the saloon tonight, right?"
"Yeah, like your dad would let me get away with not going?"
"Awesome!" Griff pumped his fist into the air. "Ignis is gonna flip! Oh…yeah, that's right."
"What's wrong?"
"I forgot about Gabriela."
Noticing the disgruntled sigh, she almost didn't want to ask just who this 'Gabriela' was. But she couldn't stop herself. "Who's she?"
The Silence Between Page 5