The Crystal Keepers, An Overseers Novel

by Mary Coffin

Loki, Overseers

  Great Mountains

  Loki wandered through the caves and tunnels that housed the Overseers, in search of her mother, and imagined that it must have taken thousands of people numerous years to carve out the elaborate system. Of all the time spent gazing at the Great Mountains from the plateau above her childhood home, she never would have guessed there was such a structure inside.

  She expected her mother to be alone in the practice cave, polishing up on her fighting skills but when she approached, a man’s voice was heard. She stopped at the cave entrance and saw Silas inside with her mother. He stood off to the side while Gwynn parried and swung her sword, in dancelike motions, at an imaginary target.

  Loki admired her mother’s grace. She still hadn’t gotten over the surprise at how her mother had kept the Overseers and her talents a secret for so long. In a conversation recently, Gwynn reminded Loki of the responsibility they carry. Gwynn said, “Whether you remain an active member or whether you choose to go a different direction, you are always an Overseer and it will be your most guarded secret your entire life.” Other than that brief conversation, there hadn’t been much time for her to speak with her mother and, she recalled, Gwynn still owed her an explanation.

  Loki watched the performance in the cave without announcing her presence. What she saw would be better described as artistic. There must have been hundreds of fairies. The cloud of winged-beings moved in perfect harmony as the sword sliced through their formation. No matter where the sword moved, they remained equidistant from its blade as if they were bound to it by an invisible thread. What Loki observed was a ballet of grace and force, working together.

  Silas leaned against the wall and watched; his arms casually crossed over his chest. “Why do I get the impression you’re doing more than simply brushing up on your skills?”

  “Practice is always necessary. You never know when it will be needed. You know that.” Gwynn replied without breaking a moment’s concentration on her moves.

  He tilted his head as if he were trying to see Gwynn from a different angle. “No. I know you, Gwynn. You’ve got something on your mind.”

  She said nothing at first but continued her moves. Then in a low voice, she said, “You knew me, Silas. That was a long time ago.”

  He straightened up, his mouth turning into a lopsided grin. “Do you really think we’ve changed that much over the years?”

  She lowered her sword and turned to face him. The fairies flitted above, waiting for her next move. “I have three grown children and...had a husband.”

  “Ah, yes, but your children are grown and, excuse me for saying it but, your husband is dead.” He stepped closer to her. “Besides, you aren’t your children and you aren’t your husband. You are an individual and, if memory serves me, we knew each other quite well.” As if to emphasize the last comment, his eyebrows rose slightly.

  “Don’t do this Silas. Let it be.” She turned her back to him and continued swinging the sword.

  He stepped back to the wall and remained silent for several moments, seemingly considering her words. His brow furrowed as he pondered something while gazing at the ground. Then he glanced at her again, carefully watching her moves as though they revealed her thoughts.

  “It still doesn’t change the fact that I knew you. And I still believe you’re up to something.”

  Gwynn continued her ballet with the fairies, in silence, and didn’t respond.

  The tension in the practice cave suddenly felt as thick as sludge. Loki cleared her throat to announce her presence. Silas looked at her and approached the entrance, taking her arrival as his cue to leave.

  “How does she do it without hitting the fairies?” asked Loki, trying to make light of things and acting as if she hadn’t heard their conversation.

  Silas stopped beside her and turned back to watch Gwynn. Stepping back into the role of instructor, he answered her question with a question, as he often did to invite his students to think further. “Have you ever tried to slice through a piece of dust floating through the air?”

  Loki pondered the question. “Oh, I see. They’re lightweight; so the movement of the sword through the air causes currents that push them out of the way before making contact.” In actuality, contact was basically impossible.

  “Correct,” he replied as he kept his eyes on Gwynn.

  Loki glanced sideways and observed Silas watching her mother, not sure what to make of the expression on his face.

  “They can be as elusive as some people I know,” he muttered. Then he turned and walked away.

  Loki entered the cave, inching along the wall, as she watched her mother. She admired her strength, in combination with the fairies’ display of color and elegance. As she got closer, she lowered herself to the floor, her achy muscles grateful for the break from the arduous schedule they maintained since their arrival. She rested the back of her head against the stone, closed her eyes, and tuned in to the energy in the cave.

  She felt the intensity of her mother’s focus and the aggressiveness of the blade as it sliced and jabbed through space. She detected movement in the air and certainly heard her mother’s feet stepping on the dirt floor. Most of all, she listened to the faint chimes as the fairies’ tiny wings fluttered. Their energy was playful, joyous to be expressing themselves in this manner. They were having fun!

  With her eyes still closed, she became aware of something else, close to her face. A light sensation touched her cheek. It was tender, affectionate, a velvety feel against her skin. It reminded her of the day she sat with Morten in the canyon and felt the same sensation. She had since learned that several fairies were with them that day, but with the sun out, they had turned invisible to avoid burning their sensitive wings.

  Slowly, she raised her eyelids and nearly startled at seeing a fairy hovering at her cheek. She held completely still and watched it buzz in front of her face, causing her eyes to cross at its close proximity. She wondered what it was doing. It rose slightly and circled above her head. She barely tilted her head and raised her brow to watch it.

  Gwynn laughed when she noticed. “You look like a statue. They aren’t as fragile as you think.”

  “I know but I’m still getting used to them.”

  The fairy landed on top of her head, its legs dangling in front of her forehead. She giggled. “That tickles. What’s it doing?”

  “Apparently, it likes your vibes.” Gwynn lowered herself to sit beside her daughter and wiped the perspiration off her forehead with her sleeve.

  Determining that practice was over, some fairies left the cave. Others stayed near and continued flying around, playing with each other.

  “How are you holding up?” asked Gwynn.

  Loki tilted her head toward her mother, still being careful with the fairy on top. “Tired. And sore. Silas is a slave-driver but I’m still not as good with the sword as you. I wouldn’t complain if I never had to use it.”

  Gwynn smiled. “The intent is not to use it. It’s only a last resort but you have to be prepared for all possibilities. Besides, you’re good at your other skills, especially since your indoctrination. You’ve always been a natural with hearing messages carried through the ethers and sensing energy. I always knew, out of the three of you, that you would likely be an Overseer.”

  “The three of us?” asked Loki.

  “Elwyn and Tannis.”

  Hearing her mother make reference to her siblings, Loki realized she hadn’t thought of her brother or sister since she and her mother left their home. In fact, she hadn’t given her deceased father much thought either.

  “Does it surprise you?” asked Loki.

  “What?”

  “That Tannis, Elwyn and I are so different. It surprises me sometimes. Makes me think the only thing we have in common is that we had the same parents and lived in the same house at one time. Beyond that, we couldn’t be more different.”

  A
fairy buzzed the one sitting on Loki’s head, teasing it into a chase. The fairy on her head didn’t respond at first, mocking indifference, but at the second fly-by, it took flight. They took turns chasing each other, their wings making a high pitched trill, not unlike a hummingbird buzzing through the forest.

  “No,” Gwynn replied. “It doesn’t surprise me. It’s usually that way. Sometimes people don’t recognize it until they get older.” Her voice got quieter, as though she were talking to herself while recalling a distant memory. “That’s how it was with my brother and me.”

  “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

  “He was...he died a long, long time ago.”

  One by one, the fairies made their way out of the cave and darted down the tunnel, probably on their way back to their crystal-filled home.

  “What happened to him?”

  Her mother sighed, stood up and offered her hand to pull Loki up from the floor. “Tell you what,” she said, “when all of this is over, I still owe you an explanation and I’ll tell you about my earlier life.” She noticed the smirk on her daughter’s face. “What?”

  “Including Silas?”

  The brief moment of surprise turned into the realization that their exchanges hadn’t gone unnoticed by her daughter. Gwynn’s eyes narrowed as she gave this some thought. “Only if you tell me about Kado.”

  Loki’s face lit up with shock and her mouth gaped open slightly. “There’s nothing going on with Kado.”

  “Uh, huh.”

  TWENTY FIVE

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