“Much better. Now we can talk without being overheard.”
Hmm, good idea.
“Was last night real?” I blurt out before she can start.
She snorts. “I’m trying to figure that out myself.”
It’s hard to hear over Parkers' strumming so we lean towards each other, resting on each other’s shoulders. I can’t count how many times we’ve sat like this since we’ve met, talking for hours upon hours.
“What do you think this means?” Maggie muses.
“I dunno. Better yet, what did Cae—" I struggle to remember his name but come up short. “The gnome mean by Marks?” I start anew. “Do you recall ever seeing any mysterious markings on me?”
She ponders this for a moment. “No. I can say I haven’t. What about me?”
“No...”
“So what? They just pop up out of nowhere like the chicken pox or something?”
I laugh. “I sure hope they aren’t like the chicken pox. Remember when we were like five and I caught them? Of course you got them too because we never listened to our parents, and we were both covered in horrible itchy splotches for a full week. Oh, the torture.” I giggle, feeling her laughing along with me.
Those were happier times. Before the loss of her parents made her more serious and less of the fun, risk taker I’d met in preschool. Before then she was the more daring one, climbing on top of the monkey bars on the playground while I was alone on the ground, too scared to join her. Fearless. I always wished I was more like her, not so afraid of heights and other silly things that, in the grand scheme of things, didn’t really matter all that much. But now...things were different. I think it made her look at life with a new perspective.
“I don’t think this is like that,” Maggie speaks after a few moments of exuberance, more subdued than she was before. “This is serious. I can feel it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well...Someone attempted to kill that Faery. If you ask me, this is more significant than one act of random violence. And that guy? Tell me you didn’t see that tattoo on his face,” she pauses, considering. “Unless you didn’t?”
“I did. But I don’t know what it looked like. It,” now it’s my turn to pause, uncertain whether she will believe me. Assuming that everything we saw really did happen, it’s hard to believe that anything isn’t possible anymore. “It glowed.”
“So I’m not crazy then,” she murmurs so low I barely catch it over Parkers music.
“Unfortunately, no.”
“So where does this leave us?”
I think about it for a long time. Should we go back to the pool, figure out why we are a part of this in the first place? Or should we just forget yesterday ever happened and keep living life normally? Could life even be normal anymore? No, I don’t think it can. Our best bet is to go back up to the pool and talk to the gnome. Figure out as much as we can. Would he even be there anymore? I guess we will find out.
I say as much out loud and we head out to walk back to the pool with hopes that Caesleanyx (Maggie being kind enough to remind me of his name) will still be there. She leaves a note for Parker, letting him know where we’re going since he won’t answer our beatings on his bedroom door.
It’s only a few blocks to Hawthorne Hollow Public Pool, but it feels like a fifty mile walk after yesterday. Sore leg muscles are a major understatement. That on top of today being another scorcher...let me just say that I really hate the whole sixteen to drive law. Air conditioning anyone? Heaven at this point.
We reach the pool. It’s packed again. Can’t say that I blame them, but seriously, there’s a lake a five minutes’ drive away. Ever hear of Lake Michigan people? No? No one? Anything to make this that much harder.
We flash our passes at the front desk and make our way in, acting like we’re going straight to the pool. We’ve even brought along our suits and towels. Heck, maybe when we’re done finding out that we belong in an insane asylum we can go for a quick dip. No complaints here. Water can do wonders on pain.
We start where we first saw him: the alcove leading in. I’m pretty sure I remember which block had the secret opening. The problem is that there are so many people milling about that it’s a little hard to do any kind of searching without the ever present threat of being trampled.
Finally there’s a break in the flow of people. We make our move, dropping to the floor in the hope that no one’s paying us any attention. But when my hand pushes in the little square of cement nothing is behind it but empty darkness.
Don’t panic, I tell myself. He’s bound to be here somewhere.
I let go of the piece and it springs back into its original place. If you didn’t know it was there was no way you could tell. The cement blends perfectly together.
“Where else could he be?” Maggie asks, looking forlorn.
“We could try that field again,” I provide. “Maybe he’s hiding out there. I wouldn’t doubt it if that guy came back and tried to do him in as well.
“Good idea. Let’s go check it out.”
I want to say that it would look suspicious if we leave just after we came but I can’t find it in my heart to. I’m starting to really worry about Caesleanyx.
As we’re heading out I get that creepy feeling that someone’s watching me. Oh no, not again. But I relax as I think that it’s not the same guy as before, I can tell somehow. Just some random person who just happens to be watching us. Nothing to worry about, right? Still, I look around without trying to seem too obvious. No one appears threatening. Just families out for a day of fun. Teenagers screaming and goofing off before school starts back up again. Speaking of teenagers...I swear I see Derek whip behind the corner of the wall behind us. But he goes by far too quickly to really be able to tell. It could have just been a trick of the eye, or someone who merely looks like him. It’s not all that uncommon for people to look alike...
I still can’t shirk the feeling that it was Derek. Was he following us? The more I think about it the stranger it is that he just happened to be at the right place at the right time yesterday. It can’t be a coincidence. He had to be following us. And I fell right into his trap. Idiot. What a thing to do. For all you know he could be in league with those murderers.
But even as I think it I can’t help but dismiss it. There were no bad vibes radiating off of him, usually I have a good sense of the bad apples in the bunch (no pun intended). So why? Maybe he’s just one of those rare nice guys who was just driving up the street and spotted us freaked out and running from a very dark place. Who could blame him for wanting to help?
“What is it?” Maggie asks, pulling me out of my reverie.
“Nothing.” I decide to keep this to myself for now. Don’t get me wrong, I hate keeping secrets from her. It’s just, she seems to already have a bad impression of Derek and I don’t want to give her any other reasons to. Now, if he does turn out to be the bad guy...well, then kudos to her for having the right idea. She could rub it in my face all she wants then. But I refuse to think about it right now. We have enough to deal with on our plates.
We make it to the field easily. The flowers are swaying in a light, hot breeze blowing through the grass with a strange whooshing sound that is oddly like waves on a beach. They’re even brighter than last night in full on light. It’s like staring straight into a rainbow, but up close, and a lot more haphazard with the colors. I have to squint at them.
“How do we find him now?” I begin to pace. “There must be a million spots he could be in out here.”
“Stop pacing. I know you’re agitated but seriously, you’re making me nervous here. We’ll find him.” She sucks in a big breath, “Caesleanyx!!” she bellows.
I clap my hands over my ears. “Ow,” I complain. “I think the whole city heard you.”
She shoots a brief glare at me. “It’s the only way besides physically searching for him. At least he’ll have heard me.”
“True. Have you ever wondered how these are so bright?” I come to a standstill
, gesturing around us.
“There is Faery magic here.”
I blink. Neither Maggie nor I had opened our mouths. I whirl around, seeking the owner of the phantom voice.
They come out from behind a nearby pine tree. At first glance I think it’s another human. But then I recognize the dark hair and familiar silver garb. Where there were once wings there is now empty air. The tiara that was on her head is gone, replaced by a simple thin braid of grass studded with dandelions that smell sweeter than any other flower I’ve smelled, even at this distance. And I’m darn sure that her ears were pointy. Well, pointier. Now they, too, can pass for the average human, just a slight triangle of flesh at the tip. There is no denying that this is the Faery that had called out to us yesterday and had actually been grateful of our arrival. I find myself speechless.
And at war with myself whether we should stay or flee.
“The flowers,” she continues, starting forward. “They’re—”
“I get it.” I’m backing away from her, still unsure what to do.
“Please, let me explain.”
“Truth be told, I’m not sure whether I trust you,” I find myself saying.
“Caesleanyx is not here.”
“Wha—what do you mean?” I stutter.
“He was found not long after you two showed up with Miruna.”
“Found?”
“I’m afraid he was attacked as well.”
“Attacked?” I felt like a complete idiot, repeating everything she says stupidly. But it just wasn’t sinking in. I guess the term would be shell shocked. I’d just met the little gnome yesterday and I already felt responsible for what was happening to him.
“He barely escaped. The human nearly got him with iron. Had that happened, Caesleanyx would not be alive now. Be assured that he is taken care of and resting and healing well as we speak. Pardon my manners, I am Ceara,” she says with a slight bow of her head.
“Er, pleased to meet you?”
Maggie has been uncharacteristically silent through our entire exchange. I’m scared to find out what comes out of her mouth once she does start talking.
“How is it that you are so tall today but were four inches tall yesterday?” She asks. I’m surprised at her direction, but glad that she brought it up. I’m wondering the same thing myself.
“We have not the time to explain every Faery secret today. I must be swift, before they know I am gone. I wanted to thank you properly for returning my sister. I’m afraid we did not get the chance yesterday. Second, I want you to know that even though my people, or they will be some day, are not as accepting when humans are involved. But that does not mean we do not need your help. Right now there is a war waging between the humans and the Fair Folk. My sister does not wish to acknowledge this fact. She sits blindly upon her thrown and does nothing about it. Perhaps the both of you may show her that while she flutters her wings there are real dangers out here. Threats to our family.
“Do you know what she thought Miruna did? Fraternized with humans on purpose. As if she would be found with the likes of them, no offense dears. Now there is going to be an inquiry and it will be a waste of time.” Her breathing rapids visibly. “I am getting ahead of myself. You girls are Marked with the sign of those who are destined to help the Fair Folk. Will you fulfill that now? Will you swear yourselves to the protection of us, even if the others hate your very presence?”
“Hold on a second!” I interject, outraged.
“I was not leaving?”
“That’s not what I mean,” I dismiss her. “What Mark are you going on about? I have no clue what any of this is about and you want me to swear some sort of pledge to your “No Humans Allowed” club where most of the time we’ll probably be subjected to others like Breen and that other Faery who wanted us for their servants! How do you think we feel being treated like appliances?”
“What on Earth is an appliance?” She shakes her head. “Never mind, then. Not all Faeries are like that. There are kind ones who will look after you and keep others from using you as...appliances as you put it. As for the Mark.”
She walks the rest of the space between us and grabs my right arm. I flinch back instinctively but she holds firm. Her grip is surprisingly powerful. Her forefinger touches a spot inside my wrist, the contact is cool and her skin is silky smooth. When she lifts her finger away there is an outline glowing on my skin. It’s an electric green and is in the shape of a four leafed clover with pearly Faery wings spread out behind it. I swear I see the wings flutter, but in a blink of an eye it’s completely gone.
I suck a breath between my teeth in a whistle. “What was that?”
“The Mark. It proves that you are meant to help us.”
“Do I have one too?” Maggie asks. There’s excitement in her voice. Like a kid who’s just found out they can have whatever they want from the candy counter.
Ceara does the same thing with her. Sure enough, Maggie O’Connor has the same Mark as me. Same spot and everything. Huh. Coincidence? I think not.
“Wait, so does this mean that the whole reason we’re friends is because this thing pulled us together?”
“Kate! What would make you say such a thing like that?” Maggie exclaims, hurt written on her face.
I cringe. I didn’t want to hurt her. Not by a long shot. But the idea had been formulating in my head since Caesleanyx first said something about us both being Marked. I just didn’t want to believe it.
“Something like that...” Ceara hedges.
“I HATE THIS!” I scream. “You mean to tell me that our whole lives were planned out because of your stupid Faery existence!?! Maybe I don’t want to be a part of this!”
“Katelyn. STOP! You don’t need to take this out on her. She, personally, did not do this to us. So what if we were meant to be friends for this reason? I wouldn’t trade you for anyone.”
She sounds so sure. How could she sound so sure and take all this in without any objections? It is maddening.
Despite myself I take a few calming breaths. More to placate her than anything.
“Are you okay now?” Maggie asks.
“I guess,” I sigh. As okay as I’ll get anyways.
Ceara glances between us uncertainly. “Will you help me?”
“Do we have a choice?” I ask at the same time Maggie says, “We will.”
She gives me a meaningful look.
“Fine,” I agree submissively. Maggie better know what she’s doing. Death wish, anyone? “Is that all you wanted?”
“Yes. But you must swear it.”
“I—”
“There is more than just saying you will. Give me your hand.”
I lift it nervously. She takes my index finger and a sharp prick shoots through it.
“Ouch.” I bring it to my lips after she has released it. Blood dots the tip.
She does the same to Maggie, but not a word is uttered through the process.
Ceara shows us a hollow thorn with our blood in it, much like a needle from a syringe.
“That is all. I will leave you now. Thank you.” She gives a small smile and disappears into the trees in the general direction of the apple orchard.
“Well, that was fun,” Maggie mutters sarcastically.
I ignore her. Something else entirely has caught my attention. I hear a rustling in the vicinity of where the pool is. Adrenaline pulses through my veins as I go on red alert again. It was definitely bigger than a squirrel or bird. I creep over to the bordering trees and bushes, hoping for silent and stealthy. Thankfully my partner in crime realizes what’s happening and doesn’t make a sound. Otherwise we’d easily be found out.
I crouch behind a bush near where I heard it, inching around to peek my head out....to find Derek kneeling on the ground against the wide trunk looking pale, his dark brown hair falling into his eyes.
“What the heck are you doing here?” I demand vehemently, straightening from my crouch.
He jumps up and whirls to face me, sho
ck painted on his face. He takes a second to compose himself until his usual bravado takes its place.
“Didn’t see you there,” he says smoothly.
I scoff. “Yeah, right. How much did you hear?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Stop messing with me, Derek. How much did you hear?”
“Enough,” he eyes my right wrist.
Better question: How much did he see?
I smack him across his chest. “You were spying!”
“Hey,” he rubs his hand over his dark sleeveless shirt, “that hurt, you know.”
I roll my eyes. Yeah, right. “Tell me what you saw. Now.”
“Pretty demanding for someone so short.” Says the person who is freakishly tall.
“I’m not kidding!”
“Relax, would ya? I had a feeling you were like me. See? I have a Mark. Just like yours.” He shoves his wrist in my face.
“I don’t see anything,” I snap. Just smooth tan skin covering tense tendons and veins.
“So, you’re new at it, then.” It doesn’t sound like a question.
“New at what?”
“The Faery business. It’s not easy, or fun for that matter. You’ll be able to See better once you get used to the game. My question is why do they need you two? Tired of me already are they? What did Ceara tell you just now?”
“That’s none of your business.” I am not sure if I believe him. Not until I have proof. Besides, if he was watching, shouldn’t he already know what she said?
“You’re going to regret joining, you know. It’s a nasty game these Faeries play.”
“Whatever you say, Derek. I’m leaving.” I shove past him where Maggie can see me and wave her forward.
“You two need a ride again?”
He actually has the gall to ask that. Sometimes I wonder what goes through a boy’s head.
“No, we don’t. Goodbye now.”
“Do I want to know what that was about?” Maggie asks as we walk, leaving Derek alone at the tree. I try not to but I can’t help but look back and see him watching us, a strange expression on his face. It’s not bad...quite the opposite. Dangerous, but in a good way. Protective, even. And I refuse to think about it any longer.
The Faery Keepers Page 3