Grayson shrugged off the tape-job and made his way into the kitchen. Following as quietly as they could, Shea stopped at the base of the doorframe and pointed to a counter-top above them. Thane nodded and floated up, landing safely behind a greasy microwave. Grayson rounded the corner of the small kitchen and was just out of sight as Thane waved Shea on.
Concentrating, Shea fired a grappling spell at a small cabinet knob above Thane and flung herself up, but as she swung, her toe kicked a sugar container. It wobbled and wobbled closer to the edge of the counter. Hanging on to her grapple spell, she dangled from the cabinet knob, holding her breath. If Grayson walked in, she’d be spotted for sure. She was frozen and powerless watching the container wobble closer to the edge until - CRASH!
Sugar and ceramic glass splashed along the kitchen floor and Grayson hurried back in. Noticing the broken container and spilled sugar, he threw his hands in the air and waved it off. Frustrated, he didn’t even bother to clean it up and left the room.
Dropping the grapple spell and landing on the counter, Shea wiped the sweat from her brow.
“Phew! That was close.”
“He’s just gonna leave the mess? It’ll draw mice for sure,” Thane said as he joined her, eyeing the broken sugar pot.
Ignoring Thane’s distracted and obsessive compulsive comment, Shea looked behind her and noticed a framed photograph. She turned and softly approached the photo of Grayson with his arms around a smiling Miranda. A major contrast from what Miranda and Grayson had recently been experiencing, though Shea was unaware. As she stared, soaking in how happy the Makers looked, her reflection in the glass of the frame slowly came into focus. Seeing herself, her smile faded since all she could really see were her broken wings crossing the smiling faces of Grayson and Miranda. The future of all of the unclaimed wishes bouncing throughout The Other Side rested on her back. On her ugly, broken wings.
“Uh, Shea?” Thane broke the silence. “We might have a slight problem.”
Turning to her friend, she noticed the worry in his eyes as they looked in the direction of the kitchen window. On the other side of the glass, Lost Fairies swung to the sill and surrounded the house. They hadn’t yet noticed Shea and Thane, but it was only a matter of time.
Immediately, Shea whipped a grapple at the kitchen chandelier and swung herself into the dining room. One grapple after another, Shea was perfecting her skills as she flipped and flung across the house. Thane was simply trying to keep up.
“You’re getting really good at that! Who needs to fly, when you can -”?
“Where did he go? We lost him.”
They landed together on the top of a worn, flower embroidered sofa. Behind them, more Lost Fairies grouped at the base of the kitchen window preparing to enter. Down the long hall ahead of them, a door clanked shut, slapping against its hinge.
“There!” Shea pointed.
The kitchen window slowly creaked open. Elanor was now standing on the windowsill while her troops pushed the window up and open. Shea met eyes with her mother. Elanor stared, expressionless, and a shiver shot through Shea’s system. It looked like her mom, but it sure didn’t feel like her.
“That would have been easier than breaking in,” Thane said, reacting to the slow open of the kitchen window. Shea grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the sofa and grappled down the hall.
Two Lost Fairies had spells clasped to the base of the window, pushing it open as Elanor stood, patiently waiting. Out of the black, swirling fog that was now completely surrounding the house arose Erebus in full form. He hovered over the working Lost Fairies. Elanor’s black eyes continued her hard stare through the window.
“It’s time, Elanor. Bring it to me,” he said as a sharp, dusty finger pointed through the window to the front door. Just as his finger was fully extended, the True Love Wish rushed in through the closed front door. It zoomed in quick circles around the living room; happy to know his Maker was close. Thane and Shea had just missed it.
Elanor’s eyes flashed at the sight of the Wish. “Beren and his Keepers. They’ll be close behind.”
“You have only one thing on which to focus. Your husband is not a concern,” Erebus replied.
The wish stopped circling and caught sight of the Lost Fairies breaking in. It squeaked and flew off down the hall.
A nasty wind whipped around the house as Erebus expanded back into a massive black fog. Finally, Elanor’s troops opened the window enough to duck in. One by one they entered, leaving Elanor the last to do so. She stared into the house. Her eyes flashed with darkness, and yet the swirling storm faintly hinted a retreat. She blinked, rubbed her twitching eyes and crept in.
Rumbling down the unplowed, icy street, a car slowly splashed its way toward the house. It stopped at the edge of the driveway, undecided as to whether it should pull in or not.
Miranda looked out from the driver’s seat, staring at the house. It wasn’t just her house, but her home. She felt odd wondering if she should ring the doorbell, knock, or simply walk in. Turning the steering wheel, she aimed the car toward the driveway and parked. She took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped onto the icy driveway.
Slowly forming along the edge of the house in complete darkness, Erebus stood watching Miranda approach the front porch. As dark as it was, a wicked smile could faintly be seen within the edges of shadow.
26
Lightning In Winter
A WishMaker’s home is not much different than that of a WishKeeper’s - everything is simply much larger. Sure, some of the materials are a bit foreign and most Keepers would agree, wasteful. Shea, on the other hand, loved every bit of a Maker’s extravagant living space, especially since everything was placed neatly on the ground. It didn’t make her flight through Grayson’s house any easier, however, since the size of the items forced her to grapple everywhere anyway. As much as she wanted to stop and take in the sight of such a beautifully peculiar array of giant furniture, thick cloth curtains and tower-sized lanterns with strange pear-shaped light sources, the door through which Grayson just entered was cracked open slightly. She and Thane needed to follow him, and fast. Elanor and her troops wouldn’t waste time sightseeing.
The door was much heavier than expected, but Thane managed to pull it open with a final grunt. Surveying the long hallway behind her, Shea didn’t spot any intruding Lost Fairies or, thankfully, her mother just yet.
“What if the wish isn’t down there? I mean, all of this could be a complete waste of time if it’s with Miranda,” Thane said wiping sweat from his brow.
“It has to be. My mom wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”
“TLW’s aren’t exactly easy to wrangle. You knock one more thing over, I’m killin’ you.”
“Thanks for the confidence boost. We’ll have to be careful, that’s all.”
“Yeah, because we’re really good at that.” Thane kicked the door open a bit more. The hinges weren’t quite perfectly level and caused the door to slowly swing shut.
Shea smiled at Thane. He really was pretty funny when nervous, she thought, even though he constantly overreacted.
Without warning, a loud buzz and squeal echoed down the hall. The True Love Wish whizzed over their heads and shot down through the open doorway, lighting up the long dark basement staircase as it flew. Every piece of the memory bit into her senses as she looked at it. The feel of its electrically charged, yet soft exterior. The ecstatic smile and hopeful eyes. But as the ten year-old memory continued, a recollection of the end result swiftly came into focus. She couldn’t allow it to happen again. She wouldn’t allow it.
Thane and Shea looked at each other. “At least we know it’s down there,” Thane said breaking the stare.
“Let’s go!” Shea attached a grappling spell to a small bulb light in the middle of the arched ceiling of the staircase and flung herself down. Thane shot off like a bullet, tailing the wish.
Releasing the grapple spell and free-falling, Shea landed on and surfed down the
railing, keeping pace with Thane. Lights were on in the basement studio where Grayson was hunched over a drafting table as Thane zipped past him.
The walls were lined with artwork. Oil on canvas, pencil sketches, water colors, chalk etchings - dozens of fresh pieces hung from a line that stretched across the long, narrow basement studio.
Just as Thane spotted the circling wish, he watched Shea slide down the railing, hurl herself up in a somersault and tumble directly onto Grayson’s desk, crashing into an ink jar and spattering thick black liquid everywhere. Thane slapped his face with a frustrated hand and couldn’t believe she did exactly what he just said not to.
With a quick grab and swipe, Grayson picked up his new painting and pulled it away from the mess before it could spoil it. He stood and looked at his ink-spilled desk. “What is going on?” Quickly but neatly setting his artwork down, he pulled a rag out of a utility sink and dabbed at the spill.
Even though Shea never thought of herself as a very lucky fairy, the stars must have been aligned for her since where she landed, dizzy and out of sorts, was perfectly behind a set of multi-colored paint jars and out of Grayson’s view. Thane, however, was still near panic and waving at Shea hoping she would wake up and hide, for crying out loud.
The wish lazily floated around the room, bouncing from pieces of art to Grayson’s shoulder and back again, happy and content to be exactly where it was supposed to be.
Shea shook the dizziness out of her head and hid behind one of the jars, peeking out and searching for the wish. She spotted Thane instead, though it was impossible to miss his jumping-jacks and arm waving. Next to Thane was a charcoal portrait of Miranda. Deep black hair fell over one side of her face as her other eye was closed amidst more deep gray and black shadow. Grayson had drawn such a beautifully heart-wrenching piece that it shocked Shea and stopped her for a moment. She was getting a glimpse of a sadness that hadn’t yet been made clear, but when she looked at the other pieces hanging along the string, it was obvious - they were all of Miranda in dark tones and shadows. They didn’t exude a sense of danger or threat, just a simple feeling of sadness. Though they were all obviously of Miranda, Shea saw herself in the paintings - sad, depressed, lonely. It was everywhere, the sadness. When the wish bounced within view, however, Shea snapped to and remembered why she was in the smelly basement in the first place.
The wish’s huffing and puffing had settled. It was relaxing a bit and eventually settled near a small lamp to Grayson’s left as he continued to blot and dab at the staining ink. The wish bounced and rested on the lip of the lamp, cozying up to the warmth of the bulb.
Waving to Shea, Thane pointed to the wish, signaling with his hands some form of a plan. Shea had no idea what he was saying, but she nodded anyway. What plan could there be? Get the wish! Pretty simple.
She crept from paint jar to paint jar, inching along the back of the desk as Grayson’s rag suddenly pushed a small wave of the pooled ink. It splashed around her ankles and covered her boots. A new kind of pain rushed through her - she was not very happy to have her favorite boots so quickly ruined.
Thane was slowly floating behind paintings, staying out of the wish’s purview. Inching closer and closer, he was only a few feet away. Out from behind a small, paint spattered mug, Shea stuck her head out and signaled Thane. They were both within wrangling distance. This was it.
They slowly and carefully removed their wands, raising them up and pointing the fizzing ends at the wish.
It fluttered for a moment, forcing its pursuers to catch their breath. It settled again and closed its eyes.
Sweat poured from Shea’s forehead as she looked at Thane. His eyes were wide and shared her own combination of thrill and terror.
Ready. Aim.
“Grayson? You down there?” Miranda yelled from the top of the stairs.
The wish sprung. Excited to hear its other Maker’s voice, it didn’t know how to control itself and zoomed in circles around the basement. When Miranda slowly climbed down the final step, it bolted to her and spun, dipped and rolled around her head and shoulders. It beamed as bright as they’d seen it - a sign that everything was right in the world. For the moment.
Shea slapped her knee in frustration and Thane dashed behind another painting. Why did she hesitate? She had it right in front of her and had she simply -
“Hey. I didn’t hear you come in,” Grayson said with a look of surprise. He was still holding the drenched, black rag. It was dripping onto the cement floor as he stared at Miranda.
“You have a little mess there,” she said.
“What? Oh, right. Yeah, a little clumsier than usual today, I guess.”
It had been months since Miranda was in Grayson’s studio. When he first cleaned it out and started using it as his art studio, she used to sit and read on the couch at the other end of the room. They simply liked being in each other’s company, regardless of what it was they were doing. It just felt right, like a neatly organized counter where everything had a place and everything was in its place.
She was about to respond to Grayson, but after noticing the artwork hanging from the string, she paused. Each piece was of her and while Grayson had painted her plenty of times in the past, it was a shock to see these. It was a shock because the darkness and bland undertones hit a nerve within her - a nerve that was a little too close to the truth as to how she was actually feeling.
“So, everything OK?” Grayson asked, even though he knew why she had paused.
“Yeah.” She looked back at Grayson and forced a slight smile. “I mean, I don’t know. Can we…? The fumes are pretty strong.” Motioning to the stairs, she was afraid to have this conversation with Grayson. It was four years in the making and she still didn’t know how to tell him.
Grayson tossed the rag back in the sink and wiped his hands on his apron. “Sure. Right.” He knew what was coming, but something inside told him that this was a good thing. As difficult as it was, losing her, he knew he couldn’t let her go so easily.
The wish zoomed up the stairs like an excited puppy, knowing its owners were headed in that direction. As Grayson pulled off his apron and placed it on his desk, he had to look twice at what he saw.
Tiny black footprints were tracked along the back of the desk. Had the upcoming conversation with Miranda not been in his near future, he wouldn’t have shrugged it off so quickly. The handprint on the window and the sugar container breaking in the kitchen, peculiar yes, but this? What was going on?
Moving in teams with military stealth, Elanor lead her crew of Lost Fairies through the Maker’s home. Only the light of the kitchen was on, leaving the living room hushed with shadows from the street lamp outside. Creeping along the edges of the wall, she paused a few feet from the base of the sofa behind the long curtains that tickled the dark wood floors. Even before any danger or threat lurked within the darkness, it was a tricky assignment entering a Maker’s living quarters. A WishMaker is much more in tune and aware of its surroundings when at home. If something was out of place or a particular shadow didn’t feel right, they knew it and a WishKeeper, albeit naturally invisible to any Maker, needed to pay very close attention to its movements. One little mistake and it wasn’t just the Keeper’s life that would be threatened, but the existence and missions of all Keepers.
Hiding behind the sheer curtain, a floor vent was inches from her toes. She could hear Grayson’s voice from below and held up a fist, ordering her troops to halt and find cover. She rubbed her eyes, trying to force the retreating curse to slow, but the headache was quickly settling in. The only positive effect of the curse was that it made the pain in her throbbing head go away. Her blurred vision refocused as a clatter of footsteps was pounding up the basement stairs. With her heart racing for what seemed like the first time in years, Elanor waited knowing the True Love Wish would follow. Was she suddenly nervous? The curse was lifting, but did she want it to?
Miranda stepped out of the basement door first and then there it was. The w
ish. Elanor’s eyes flashed with a spinning cyclone of blackness again as she pinpointed it with sniper-like eyes. Concentrating on the Wish as it floated out of the basement, she slowly motioned for her troops to ready their wands. One by one, the Lost Fairies raised and pointed them directly at the excited wish. As Grayson emerged from the doorway, Elanor took her eyes off the wish and the cyclone of fog within them began to retreat once again. A different war was going on inside Elanor and at the sight of her WishMaker, the real Elanor seemed to be winning.
“You want something to drink? I can heat up some coffee. Made it this morning, but sure it’s still good,” Grayson said as he walked past Elanor.
“Let’s just sit for a bit. OK?” Miranda sat on the couch, waiting for Grayson to join her. He was surprised to be so reluctant to do so and immediately felt unsure of how close he should sit next to her. Settling on the other end of the sofa, Grayson finally found some amount of comfort.
Climbing up and out of the stairwell, Shea and Thane regrouped at the base of the door, huddling near an unused electrical outlet. Elanor’s gaze shifted to the little rebels and once again, her eyes flashed with darkness. A new mission was at hand for the moment, and she waved to her Lost Fairies.
“OK, well, they’re settled at least. The wish shouldn’t leave this room any time soon. Here’s the plan,” Shea whispered to Thane.
“Finally. A plan.”
“It seems the wish wants to settle a bit closer to Grayson, but don’t let that fool you. I have a feeling it will rest above both, possibly on that thing hanging from the ceiling.”
“I think they call that a light,” Thane said, sarcastically.
“Just, whatever. We wait for the wish to settle. You take to the air above Miranda and I’ll -“
Wrangling spells crashed around Thane and Shea, trapping them on the spot. Two Lost Fairies stalked closer and closer with the spells connected to their wands as Elanor walked out of the shadow of the curtain and approached. She removed her black hood and leaned inches from her daughter’s face. The curse was in full force, swirling in her deep black eyes.
The WishKeeper (The Paragonia Chronicles) Page 14