Seeing Magic (The Queen of the Night Series Book 1) (16 page)

She shook her head in frustration. “I don’t have the power to heal her anymore. Whatever this is, it’s done too much damage.”

With what seemed like the last bit of energy Easnadh had, she began to sing a beautiful, haunting, plaintive tune that made your heart ache to hear it. Out of nowhere emerged Dariene and two other Sidhe. One was a male dressed in violet. The other was the red-haired, green-gowned female from the other night. I hadn’t realized it, but tears were starting to flow unchecked down my cheeks as the two Sidhe lifted Easnadh into their arms.

Fiona said sadly, “She’s too sick. My magic won’t work anymore.”

Dariene asked, “Do you know what afflicts her?”

Fiona replied, “No, but we know it has something to do with this stream.”

Evan looked at her. He had been silently crying also. “I wonder if we could get the water tested for contaminants.”

Fiona replied, “We don’t have that kind of expertise.”

Evan and I looked at each other and said, “Kevin Smith,” at the same time.

“You mean Kevin, the farm hand?  What about him?”

Evan let me answer. “Kevin’s dad works at the U.S. Department of Agriculture in DC. Maybe he knows someone at the Environmental Protection Agency.”

Evan added, “Or if not, he knows how to find someone.”

I looked as far downstream as I could see. I opened my mind to look at where it turned around a bend on its way to the Potomac. What I found wasn’t normal. It wasn’t colored a neon-green, as the water in my nightmares, but it was still bad. The water bubbling along in the brook had a pewter-colored haze. It was not alive and yet was alive at the same time.

I looked at everyone and announced, “There’s definitely something wrong with this water.” I asked Evan, “Can you see the aura of the water?”

He shook his head. “I can’t see anything in the water. Yours is the only Sight that sees something wrong. I guess Dariene was right. You’re the only one who can help us figure out what’s making people sick.”

I looked at Dariene and asked, “What will happen to Easnadh?”

Dariene spoke flatly. “She may die. If she does this stream will die with her, and things it will get much worse. Ask your boy over there. He knows.”

I turned to Evan.

“She’s right.”  He ran his hand through his thick black hair. “I’ve had a vision. If we don’t find out what’s going on here, Easnadh and Zoe won’t be the only ones who die. This run feeds into the Potomac and it supplies water to the whole DC metropolitan area. Thousands of people could get sick.”

 

Chapter Seventeen

Pixies

“Did I tell you?  I got a call this morning with great news.”

“What news?”  I asked, carefully picking my way through the brush on the bank of Warm Spring Run.

“Kevin’s dad called. He contacted someone at the EPA and passed on our concern. They put him in touch with the local extension office in Martinsburg. Someone will come out to take water samples right behind the elementary school where we found Easnadh. The test results should be back in about two weeks.”

“That’s great. Hopefully their tests can find something useful.”  In the meantime, Evan and I had decided to do some exploring on our own. We followed the one clue we had: Warm Spring Run. We had obtained a topography map of the Sleepy Creek Watershed as this little stream was a part of the network of brooks, streams and rivers which fed into the Potomac. We’d downloaded satellite maps from the Internet and figured out which properties bordered the stream. We’d visited all of the ones we could access.

The spring itself ran for about ten miles. It seemed to start at a little community called Smith Crossroads and ran through the Berryville neighborhood and Berkeley Springs before joining up with the Potomac River. We’d started at the place we’d found Easnadh and worked our way up stream. If the source of the pollution was downstream from that point, Zoe would never have gotten sick.

We’d been searching for about a week and had picked our way south until we were on the outskirts of Berryville. This area was mostly farm land and the elevation continued to rise. Soon we’d be going up the side of a mountain. From here on out, the tracts of land would get larger, the access roads to the stream would be fewer and our chances of finding any clues would be slimmer. About every thirty feet or so I would stop, focus on the water with my aura vision, and confirm the pewter-colored haze still floated over the gurgling brook. The haze seemed to get thicker the farther we traveled upstream.

We couldn’t investigate full-time. Evan and I still had to work our shifts at the store. I still attended daily training sessions with Jenny, and Fiona had asked me to be her assistant for every patient visit she had. She was taking my Healer training more seriously. In the evening, I studied Herbalism.

All-in-all I was too busy to worry about the other members of my family. The bad dreams I’d had about my mother being in the hospital had stopped. Corey had sent the occasional picture to my cell phone of him doing something silly or dangerous at summer camp. He seemed to be having a thoroughly wonderful time. I’d missed his birthday, but Mom had arranged for the camp counselors to throw a party for him. He sent pictures of the celebration to me. Thrilled that he was enjoying himself, I’d become more relaxed and put all my energy into learning as much as possible from both Jenny and Fiona so I could develop the magical gifts I’d inherited from both my parents.

We followed the stream to the back of a modest farm where several head of cattle grazed lazily in the sunshine. Two creatures whom I recognized from the Litha celebration buzzed along beside the cows.

“Evan, what are those two blue-gray creatures flying over there?”

“Oh yeah, you’ve never met a pixie before, have you?”

I shook my head to say I hadn’t.

“Well, let’s talk to them. Hey Angus!” he shouted at the closest one. A weathered pasture fence made from wire strung along wooden fence posts separated us on the stream bank from the cows in the pasture. We approached one side of the fence and the pixie named Angus flew to greet us from the other side.

I stared at him, trying to commit his features to memory for future reference. About as tall as Grog, but seemingly much taller since he was flying about six feet in the air, he beat his wings so fast they were almost invisible. His skin was a confederate blue, hairless hide. As he came closer I saw a small face with delicate features. He had a pointed nose and pointed ears with two antennae sticking out of the top of his head. His amber eyes had huge pupils. He sported a toothy-grinned smile for Evan as he sat down on the top of the nearest fence post, crossed his skinny legs at the knee, and laid bony-fingered hands attached to reed-thin arms casually in his lap. His now stationary wings stood at least as tall as his torso, and three times as wide. They were a fascinating opalescent swirl of blue and green much like the inside of an abalone shell, but translucent and multi-veined like a fly’s. They folded closed like a butterfly’s.

When he spoke, his voice had a musical lilt to it which I found very soothing. “Hello, Seer Evan!  What brings you out to my neck of the woods?” 

“Angus, meet Maggie Stewart. She is Fiona’s great-niece.”

“Aye, I remember seeing the young Healer at the Litha celebration.” 

I nodded in greeting.

“I heard you were attacked by Dariene. I hope that she did not damage you too greatly.”

Diplomatically, I replied, “It was nothing I couldn’t recover from.”

“That’s good. You never know what the Sidhe are scheming. You should watch your back.”

“Indeed I will.”  I continued, “Angus, can you tell me what you do?”

“Of course, lass, we tend the livestock owned by our masters because we possess the ability to talk to animals.”  He seemed quite proud of his gift.

At that moment, a farm vehicle approached from a field of corn on the opposite side of Warm Spring Run.
Poof
!  Suddenly, Angus and his fellow pixie disappeared. Floating above the fence post buzzed the largest fly I had ever seen. The farm vehicle made a turn and drove back into the corn.
Pop
!   Angus reappeared, sitting calmly again on the post. “Sorry about that,” he said, “the farmer across the way is a Roman. We shrink ourselves and he thinks we’re just cow flies.”

“Don’t you mean horseflies?”

He gave me a look of mock surprise. “Ach no, love. The horses are on the other side of the pasture in the stable.”  He gave me an exaggerated wink. “Anyway, as I was saying, we communicate with our assigned livestock. In my case, it’s Farmer McGee’s cows. Right now, that little lady over there has a tummy ache. Something I’ll be able to share with him later.”

I frowned.
A tummy ache sounds suspicious
. I opened my vision to the cow at which Angus had pointed. A brown-gray mass grew in both of her stomachs.

“Angus,” I said cautiously, “where do these cows get their water?”

“There’s a small water hole over the ridge fed from an underground aquifer drawing from the stream behind you. Why do you ask?” 

I looked over at Evan.

He said to the pixie, “You might want to tell Farmer McGee to find another water source for the time being.”

***

By tacit agreement, Evan and I headed back to the Jeep. When we’d reached pavement, he asked me a surprising question. “Uhm, Maggie, do you have a dress?” 

“Why?”

“Well, when you packed for this trip did you think you might be going out to a nice restaurant or something?”

“Not really…why?” I wanted to ask him why he seemed so nervous. After all we’d been through, what question could he have for me that might be embarrassing?

“You see, there’s this wedding on Saturday.”  An odd little bubble started to grow in my chest. Was Evan trying to ask
me
out on a
date
?  I almost squealed out loud at the prospect.
Finally
. He’d realized this stuff about Healers and Seers was nonsense and he’d come to his senses.

I didn’t date much. I’d wanted to be a doctor my whole life, so I’d focused on my studies. And smart girls…well, we didn’t get asked out very often. I dated this guy named Robbie a few times. He was my chemistry lab partner and cute, but he didn’t make my skin tingle. Butterflies started to dance around in my stomach.

Evan continued to stumble through his prepared speech. “…the bride is Paula Sinclair. She’s a pretty talented Poet and a lawyer now. She moved away from here about ten years ago and her future husband is a Roman so I don’t know them really, but her father is the Chief Magistrate of Morgan County and our clan’s Great Poet, so as Great Seer I’m expected to attend the reception. I’ve spent the whole week fending off proposals from at least five different girls from my high school and Madison from the store. I thought if
you
went with me then I’d have a date and they’d leave me alone. I mean, if I took any of them, then I’d be fending off gossip and other jealous girls for months, but if I take you, people won’t give me a hard time. They’ll know I’m just doing Fiona a favor…” he drifted off and finally made eye contact.

The chest bubble shattered like cheap glass.

“So, do you have a dress?”  He asked again.

I couldn’t really consider my wardrobe options, being too busy feeling offended.
He considered me nothing more than the ugly niece of a friend
. I’d known all along his feelings for me were entirely platonic and mostly out of an obligation to Fiona. He’d literally saved my life (or at least my sanity) on more than one occasion since my arrival in Cacapon, and we’d had a great time that one Saturday. I’d begun to hope he genuinely liked me. I had grown to like him a lot, perhaps too much. The sting of rejection was sharper than it should have been.

We’d finally reached Evan’s car, so we separated as we moved to opposite sides of the Jeep. He got in the driver’s side and I used the moments apart to compose the feelings showing in my expression.
It wasn’t his fault I’d let myself get carried away
. I waited until we headed down the road. Then, managing a small smile, but unable to look directly into his eyes I replied, “I guess I could find something to wear.” 

He must have been holding his breath because he let it out on a whoosh. He gave me a broad grin. “Thanks,” he said.

“It’s the least I could do to repay you. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to have to fight off Madison.”

“Tell me about it. Have you noticed how aggressive she is?”

“Oh, you poor thing…a pretty, petite girl with purple hair throws herself at you. The burdens you carry are so harsh!”

“No, really, she won’t go away. She graduated from high school before I even started it. We have absolutely nothing in common, but she keeps coming on to me. It’s like horror flick scary. I’m worried she’s a…” and at the same time we both said “stalker!”  Then we laughed and I felt better.

I had little sympathy for Evan’s girl problems, but at least he was my friend, and I’d have to be content with that. Besides, I told myself, I wouldn’t always be stuck in Cacapon. Someday, guys like Evan would want me; I could wait until then.

***

It wasn’t a pretty sight. I’d strewn all my clothes from California around Rose’s bedroom. My options were sadly limited. I rarely dressed up at home, and hadn’t even considered that I might need to here. Even my shoes posed a problem. I’d brought two pair of sneakers, the new ones and the old, comfy ones. There were my flat, standard fisherman-style sandals. They were broken-in but not ratty. I had no choice to find an outfit that went with them but was dressy enough for a wedding. I had nothing that would work. Sighing, I threw myself down on top of the clothes-strewn bed.

Fiona entered the room. She must have heard me. “The wedding?”

“Yes, the wedding…I know it’s a cliché, but I have
nothing
to wear!”

“I bet a couple of Rose’s things might fit you. Take a look in her closet.”  Fiona left.

I enjoyed lying down for a few beats, then jumped up to ransack Rose’s closet. I was close to her dress size, but not quite. All of her dresses had those darts sewn into the chest area. I had no chest with which to fill the tent-shaped space. The fabric hung down and emphasized my lack of physical maturity. It depressed me, but then I saw it.

A simple sheath hung at the back of the closet. The medium-weight jersey knit was not as flimsy as a t-shirt, nor as thick as a sweatshirt. It was a solid color, one of my favorite colors in the whole world: periwinkle. Best of all — it had no darts. I whipped it out and shimmied into it. It draped like a dream. The fabric stretched a bit over my too-round bottom, but that just emphasized my smaller waist. The color brought out the purple in my eyes. It was summery and casual without being too sloppy. It went with my sandals. I shrieked in delight.

Fiona came back into the room. She didn’t say anything right away. She smiled. Then, “I think I have something which will go nicely with that.”  She left. A few minutes later she returned with an amethyst, moonstone and silver necklace. A quarter-sized pendant, shaped as a waxing, crescent moon and made out of filigree silver, hung from the center.

I sighed. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is on you.”

***

I might be a Healer and all wrong for Evan, but I felt some satisfaction when he first saw me in the new outfit with my hair brushed and face washed. His mouth gaped open and he accidentally walked into the side of the refrigerator.

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