The WishKeeper (The Paragonia Chronicles) (6 page)

Shea looked at the wish, expressionless, as another tear formed in her eyes. Picking up the goggles, the Purity’s smile expanded, thinking it was helping. Shea, for a moment, looked at the goggles and, frustrated, tossed them away. The Purity, thinking it was a game of fetch, happily bounced after it.

Behind Shea, Thane cautiously approached. She gave him a dirty look, quickly stood and walked toward the Nursery. He picked up the goggles as he followed, snatching them out from under the Purity’s mouth.

“What?” Shea asked as she opened a stable gate.

“I’m just doing my job.”

“Try keeping some other hopeless case.”

“You’re the only one I know,” Thane returned playfully.

Shea ignored the banter as she entered the stable. Even if she wasn’t technically a Hand anymore, she couldn’t just sit and stare. Especially since her new babysitter hovering over her. The compound was lined with pens, most empty. A few dimly lit wishes slept nearby as Thane hurried in after her. A couple of the wishes woke and perked up like puppies.

“And I don’t have anyone to watch the ceremony with,” Thane continued.

“Yeah, well neither do I and I like it that way. And could you clam up, please? You’ll spook the wishes.”

“Right, sorry. I made you this,” Thane held up a poorly formed cupcake with an unlit candle on top. It looked like a half-melted mushroom.

Entering a pen labeled “Money Wishes - West”, the largest by far, Shea followed a dirt path through the middle. A few dozen Monies zoomed about, excited to have visitors. They darted around Shea, bopping her on the head, snickering and hollering. Pranksters, to say the least.

“Confident little things, aren’t they?” Thane said.

“Money Wishes. Zero manners,” Shea replied as she pulled a wand from her sheath.

“It’s customary to make something for a friend before a fulfillment ceremony. So…here,” Thane handed her the cupcake.

“We’re not friends. And it looks like it’s dying,” Shea said, barely looking at the gift. She stopped at a stone table at the center of the pen and placed her wand into a hole at the center of it. Tapping the end of the wand, yellow sparks showered up like a wishing dust sprinkler. The wishes loved it, whooping and hollering as they swooped through.

“I’ll just leave it here for you then,” Thane said as he placed the cupcake on the stone table. He removed his wand and lit the candle. “Here’s to wishes coming true.”

“It’s been forever since we granted a wish. They don’t come true,” said Shea with more frustration than remorse, and swatting at incoming Monies.

“Some do.” He looked at her and tried to get a smile out of her. No good. High above them, they watched fairies fly toward Exclamation Point.

A crowd of Keepers in the thousands hovered in anticipation as Beren approached a wishing pool with a bright blue wish in his arms, an Athlete. The most basic of wishes, Athletes represent personal gain or advancement. Most wishes are of an Athletic type; material items such as bikes, cars, or some other meaningless WishMaker object. There was nothing overtly special about this particular wish. It’s wishing time had simply come and its Maker believed in it enough to allow for the Keepers to grant it. But to the fairies, this wish represented the possibility of breathing life back into their world. As the stone statue of the WishKeeper held out her hands as if in a perpetual state of waiting for something, the crowd of onlookers held its collective breath.

The pool was rimmed with ornate stone and the statue was standing within a grotto built into the side of the mountain - its once gushing waterfall dropping barely a stream from the shoulders of the mountain. The lifeblood of wish fulfillment, Exclamation Point looked out over the entirety of the Paragonian valley. On the other end of the valley, resting in darkness, was a massive human-sized castle. The castle of the WishingKing. Dormant and silently lurking, the castle loomed as a symbol of Paragonia’s prominent past, and yet stood as an incessant reminder of how even the truest of hearts can be darkened. Now, in a place where a million wishes had been granted, where wish-granted light used to burst on a regular basis within the hands of the Keeper statue, the fairies floated with baited breath, crowding Exclamation Point and hanging their hopes on one little Athletic Wish.

Beren hovered above the pool. A faint breeze whistled through the nearby evergreens as the crowd hushed. He raised the Athlete above his head, offering it to the waiting statue. “You are the giver of hope, the bringer of dreams. The one who gives flight to the grounded chance. May you forever be granted,” he said, as he released the wish.

The eyes of the watching Keepers eagerly waited as the Athlete cautiously floated toward the statue.

Beren backed away as the light of the pool shined in his eyes. The wish lightly bounced and finally rested within the palms of the Keeper statue. A rumble echoed around The Point as the Athlete lit up, shining brighter and brighter. The rumble and light grew bigger and louder until - poof.

The wish disappeared and the light quickly faded.

Failure and rejection dripped from Beren’s eyes as the crowd of onlookers were stunned. The wish wasn’t granted. So much hope and anticipation, only to have it disappear once again. A few hiccups of tears chirped throughout the noiseless crowd as Beren continued to stare, thinking maybe this was a mistake. Maybe it wasn’t over yet. Maybe there was still hope. Maybe…just maybe.

Thane stared at nothing in particular, dumbfounded. As he floated past Shea, the red head tried to hide her disappointment, but it didn’t matter. It was the wave of frustration that rushed through her that truly upset her. Why is anyone surprised? Why such hope when they knew what was most likely going to happen anyway? Some of the Monies nearby suddenly popped and disappeared. A little disaster that they were all too used to seeing, and it just confirmed Shea’s bubbling frustration - any time a wish isn’t granted, other wishes are doomed to disappear. They might as well all just go away. Why wait?

“I guess you were right,” said Thane as he floated away.

The small cupcake’s candle still burned. The flickering light of the flame bounced, unaware of the sad news. With tears welling up in Shea’s soft, frustrated eyes, she grabbed the gift. Wanting to throw it into the pond, she couldn’t. She stared at it as if sheer will could vanquish it since she couldn’t even bare the hopeful attempt of a quick breath. The false hope of the flame continued to bounce. Was there anything she could do? Not for her home or fellow fairies, but for herself?

Finally, she blew the candle out.

8

Another Chance

It was late and though the moon was at its highest point in the night sky, it still lit up the glistening pool of Exclamation Point. Beren stood alone along the stone edge, staring at the water. His hands were in his pockets, but his thoughts were deeper.

“What do I do, Ellie?” Beren said out loud. “You’d know what to do. You always did.” He sighed audibly and brushed fingers through his graying hair.

Quietly approaching and noticing her dad talking to himself, Shea took a cautious step around the dirt-paved exit path. It was the first time she’d been up to The Point in years, but she knew her father would be there. He may have been the last person she wanted to talk to, but she needed to do something. She was hoping that the recent unfulfilled wish might soften her dad a bit and allow an actual conversation about her possibly joining the force.

“Hey. Dad?” said Shea quietly. He didn’t respond and continued to stare at the statue. “I’m - I’m sorry about today. I’d like to try again if you’d let me. I can be a Keeper, Dad, I just -,” Shea continued, but Beren suddenly woke up.

“Did you know there used to be a waterfall here? It poured into the pool. There was a constant beacon of light shining from this Point. Your mom called it, ‘the heart of Paragonia’. I always liked that.”

Shea took a seat along the edge of the pool, scared to look at her distraught father. She glided her hand along the water as he continued. “With every wish we lose, the more shallow this pool becomes.”

“I know. That’s why I -,” her eagerness was cut off again.

“It’s my responsibility to keep this pool filled. To keep our fairies safe. The only thing keeping us from being overrun by Erebus is…what?” Beren asked, but it was obviously rhetorical and Shea didn’t bother answering. “Granting wishes. You realize that’s what we do, right? The more we grant, the stronger our borders become.”

“I know, Dad, and I’m...”

“Every wish is of extreme importance! Every wish! And when a Keeper allows one to be destroyed, it equals the death of a dozen others,” Beren continued, frustration brimming.

“I already know this. Why are you -?”

“Because you’ll get your second chance when you realize your responsibility to this realm!” Beren yelled, this time looking directly at his daughter. Shea knew there wasn’t, or shouldn’t have been, a response to this. She held her tongue.

“We’ll discuss your detention tomorrow. You can walk home from here,” Beren said as he flew off over the edge of the Point, leaving his daughter alone.

The thought of starting over, working her way up through the ranks from the very bottom, kissing the butts of every commanding officer much less her father, it was excruciating and nauseating and there was no way she could do it again. All just to maybe guard a Gate for the rest of her life? Something needed to happen, but the familiar feeling of helplessness was overwhelming as she sat and dangled her legs over the edge of The Point. How ironic, she thought. The Point. What was the point of all of this, really?

Watching a shooting star streak across the sky over the dark and empty castle in the distance, it was impossible for her to accept the pointlessness of anything. All she ever asked or wished for was a chance. But she might just need to create that chance on her own and she was done feeling sorry for herself.

9

Broken

A thick, heavy snowfall descended over the cul-du-sac. Street lamps lit up Abdera’s snow-covered streets and though Christmas lights on the small cottages of The Other Side did their best to brighten the neighborhood, it was sad and run down. A once happy little town, though never bustling, its comfort had leaked away over the past ten years. The familiarity and ease that emanated from its corners was gone, and the quiet that was left was loud and unnerving.

A small single-story cottage with a wrap-around front porch was the only house without Christmas lights. The sidewalk and steps were untended and drifts of frozen snow were cut through with lazy footprints. The quiet of the cul-du-sac was juxtaposed by the heated argument going on inside the house.

A small candle flickered on a dusty table as Miranda rushed by, a suitcase in her hand and tears streaming down her face. Grayson followed her like a pleading puppy as she picked up odds and ends, shoving them into a half open purse. With long, stringy black hair, Miranda’s eyes were wide, oval shaped and glistening from hours of crying. They were rimmed with exhausted redness, and begging for whatever extended argument they’d witnessed to just simply end.

Grayson didn’t have a hard edge on him. He was simple, tall, and yet just a shell of a once energetic young man who thought he’d found the love his life. There was a flicker in his eyes that beamed with an inability to accept that he may have been wrong. As he groped at his wife, trying to keep her from storming out, he felt that it wasn’t just a girl he was begging to keep, but a life that for so long felt perfect. It was slipping through his fingers, leaving his clammy palms filled with nothing more than dusty confusion.

“Please don’t do this, Miranda,” pleaded Grayson. He looked older than his years should show as he grabbed Miranda’s coat.

“That’s the point, Grayson! I can’t do this. Not anymore,” replied Miranda as she tugged the coat away. She threw it over her arms and shoulders and hurried to the door. Grayson grabbed her again, stopping her.

“We loved each other once, right? We can again. Just have to work at...”

“I can’t work at it anymore, Grayson!” she said. “We never see each other! When we do talk, it’s nothing but arguing and you spend every moment in the basement painting whatever it is you’re painting and meanwhile I’m working two jobs just to -.”

“I’ve got some bites on my work and if all else fails, I’ll get a job.”

“Selling artwork to pay dentist bills isn’t a bite! And all else has failed,” returned Miranda as she turned toward the door.

“Please, Miranda! We’ll spend more time together. We should have your parents over for Christmas dinner like we used to. Let’s just fix this.”

“You hate my parents,” Miranda replied. “And spending time together - it isn’t that easy.”

“Hate is a pretty strong word,” said Grayson. Miranda rolled her eyes and turned back to the door. He stopped her again, “Please! It’ll get better.”

“How?” asked Miranda. “We’re broken. When does it get better?”

“We’re not broken. Maybe a little bent, but just - please don’t run away,” begged Grayson.

Years of comfort. Years of ease and the stability of a simple touch. A look that could strengthen a day’s chances at success. Like their little town, Grayson and Miranda were slipping away. Even though on the surface they thought it was obvious why, deep down the confusion was enough to break them. Miranda saw all of this in one flicker of candlelight that bounced from Grayson’s eyes to her own. Something deep down was wrong, missing. The stare was prolonged by Grayson’s firm grip on her hand.

She let go.

“Merry Christmas, Grayson,” she said, but as a goodbye. A finality.

Swiftly she flung the door open and hurried down the snow covered porch steps, rushing to the driveway. Grayson could only watch, desperate, but out of options. He stepped out into the icy winter air and slowly sat on the hard-packed snow of the porch and stared as Miranda climbed into her car. It was cold, but he didn’t care.