The Steward

  “Sorry, no Sasquatch today, Maggie, but I have it under good authority that an eighty-thousand-year-old groundhog will be through here tomorrow evening.” He smiled, his perfect teeth gleaming in the morning sun.

  “No fair, Gavin, the whole mind reading thing,” I said dryly, trying to suppress my smile. I was glad to see him—this was a fantastic morning.

  He was crouched down, sitting on his left foot with his right foot just in front of him, and roughing up Justice’s ears. Apparently, I wasn’t Justice’s absolute favorite person in the world. The sleeves of his light blue sweatshirt were pushed up his massive forearms, and he beamed at me, one eye nearly closed against the morning sun. He looked like an Abercrombie & Fitch ad.

  I looked at Justice. “Traitor! Some guard dog you are, letting just anybody on the mountain.”

  Gavin grinned at me. “Oh, Justice and I go back a long way, Maggie. Afraid you never stood a chance.”

  “Really, I think Justice and I had better have a talk. I believe the adage is man’s best friend, you know.”

  “Ouch, you’ve only known about me for a day and you’re already pulling the Fae-card?”

  I laughed. “Speaking of which…”

  “Yeah, that’s why I’m here.”

  When I realized he was here to see me, I smiled in spite of myself. “So, how did you know I’d be here?”

  “This is going to be a little creepy I’m afraid.” He stood up, looking at me with an apologetic expression.

  I thought about what he said. Then I took just a second or two to consider how much more beautiful the steep, wooded hills, gray bluffs and mirrored surface of the lake appeared with him standing there.

  “Oh, yeah, a little creepy I’d say. You read my mind, didn’t you?”

  Trying to feign alarm seemed appropriate, but I really didn’t mind knowing that he could see the images I focused on. In fact, if I was being honest, I was thrilled he’d taken the time to look into my thoughts at all. It was also a little embarrassing—how often had he read my thoughts, and did he see everything I imagined? My face flushed.

  “I’m not sure what they told you, but no, I don’t read minds, per se. I only get the images you picture and the emotions attached to them.”

  “Oh, you should have told me … that makes it perfectly fine.” I tried to sound sarcastic and failed.

  “Maggie, I can’t help that, but I will try not to look if you want.”

  I tried to answer but I couldn’t. If I had an ounce of self-respect, I’d do it—I’d tell him to back off. But there was no way I could force myself to say get out of my brain when I knew I wanted him there. It was a connection, and I desperately wanted a connection to Gavin.

  “How far does your ... telepathy reach?”

  “Not far. I didn’t read you clearly until I was down here, just below the house. You were on your way when I figured it out.”

  “So you came here to see me?” I asked with a smirk.

  “Yes, I did.”

  He grinned, causing the butterflies in my stomach to lurch. He was beyond beautiful, and the morning sun made his face glow even more radiantly than usual. I exhaled quickly and took a deep breath. Satisfied with his answer, I walked closer to him and reached out for Justice.

  “So, are you okay with the mind thing?” he asked.

  “Yes, I think I am, actually … at least for now.”

  I imagined a blank sheet of typing paper and brought it to the forefront of my mind until it filled my thoughts.

  “Nice trick,” he noted. “How long can you keep it up?”

  I imagined a blue crayon writing ‘not long, but will work on it’ across the paper.

  “Very nice, why blue?” he asked

  “Wow, you actually saw the color?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  In my head I crumbled the paper up and focused again on the lake—I was happy to be here. He smiled and turned, walking toward the point of the peninsula. I caught up and walked by his side.

  “So, I’m sure you have dozens of questions.”

  He glanced at me for a moment, both eyebrows raised a little. I sunk my hands into my pockets and balled them into fists. Good grief, I never know what to do with my hands when I’m around him. In my right pocket, I found a seam and loose thread. I wrapped the thread around my finger, let it go, and repeated the process over and over to keep my right hand busy.

  “Yeah, I do—are you really one hundred forty-seven thousand…”

  He laughed and cut me off. “Yes, I am very old—in human terms.”

  “In Human terms?”

  “Yes, Maggie, there are Fae who are much older than me.” He paused, smiling at me. “Ozara … Sara told you about her, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, she mentioned the name.”

  “Ozara’s age can be measured in what humans call epochs.” He slowed down and stared at me again. “There is something you should understand about us—in our realm, for lack of a better word, we don’t normally keep track of our age.”

  “Why not?” I asked, trying to figure it out before he explained it.

  He nodded and looked at the lake. “Because time is irrelevant to us. It wasn’t until we entered the physical world that we realized things could be measured in time. Naeshura—energy—has no shelf life. It changes from one form to another, sure, but it never ceases to exist.”

  “Wow,” was all I could mutter in response.

  I understood what he was saying, but I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it. Time was inescapable in my life. I couldn’t wait to turn sixteen. I looked forward to the end of winter. I didn’t want to get out of bed some mornings when the alarm rang. My entire life was about time. Either I didn’t have enough, or it moved too slowly. But not once in my life has time simply been irrelevant.

  We walked forward again, through the tiny gray, tan and rust-colored pebbles that crunched under our feet. A little breeze blew in from the lake and flicked his hair up and off his forehead. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose, swelling his chest.

  “What a gorgeous morning,” he said, finally exhaling.

  I pulled my hand out of my pocket and wrapped it around Gavin’s arm just above the elbow. His muscles were like stone, but much to my surprise, he didn’t pull away. He simply smiled and continued to walk. At the point, we sat against a weathered tree trunk that had washed onto the beach.

  “So, do you always take this form?” I didn’t turn. I stared at the hills on the other side of the lake a half-mile away. The two islands Sara told me about were just off the point. The first sat two hundred yards across the water, the second, just beyond it.

  “No. I have taken many forms, but this one is the most natural one for me to take when I want to appear human.”

  “Really? How ... convenient…” I shot him a playful look.

  He smiled, and turned to face me. “No, really.”

  “Mmmm-hmmmm.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

  “Well, it is true that we can take any human form we want, but each of us has a natural shape—a comfortable persona if you will. Mine just happens to be ... umm ... smokin’ hot.” He laughed.

  I laughed and playfully punched his muscular shoulder. “So narcissistic! Uhh, you’re such a man,” I said.

  “Yes, narcissistic, but technically, I’m not male.”

  “What?” I screeched.

  “It’s true. In our natural form, Fae have no gender.”

  “Oh my god, how boring,” I said before I could stop myself. “Do you have ... um ... significant others?” I continued, suddenly feeling like I was digging a big hole for myself.

  “We do have mates, and to use a human term, we love each other, but we don’t have gender.” He looked at me, cocked his head to the side, and smiled. It was a playful expression and it looked good on him.

  “Ohhh, Noooo! You! Get out of my mind right now!” I said, hitting him again in exasperation. My tiny fist just bounced off his shoulder.


  “Well, in our energy form, we don’t do what you’re thinking about, but we have a pure energy equivalent,” he said, grinning and shaking his head.

  I knew I’d just blushed. I could feel it in my face.

  Trying to squelch the stupid grin, I changed the subject back to him. “So, why male?”

  “It’s the most comfortable for me. The Fae may not have physical gender—how could we—but we do have a natural … order … I guess. I simply knew I should be male when I took physical form the first time. I also felt the most comfortable in this shape, with this voice. I would like to think that if I’d been born human, I would have been exactly this way.” He smiled, leaning forward a bit to place his hands on his knees.

  “Have you ever … dated?” I asked.

  His smile disappeared, though the look on his face was still very pleasant. “I presume you mean humans?”

  “Yeah,” I said, feeling the blush coming back again.

  My heart suddenly began racing and the butterflies in my stomach grew into pterodactyls. I was nervous, and I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation. His smile returned, slightly, and he took my hand in his. His fingers were strong—his hands absolutely radiated warmth, and I could feel it spread throughout my body.

  “It is forbidden, Maggie.”

  My heart, fueled by anger, beat even faster as the word forbidden rang in my head.

  “I’m sorry, what exactly do you mean … forbidden?” I asked, my tone a little acerbic. I worked to gain a bit of composure. “Forbidden by whom?”

  Soothingly, in little more than a whisper, he said, “Forbidden among the Fae for thousands of years.”

  “Is this an Unseelie thing?”

  “No it’s mutual—it is truly a Fae thing. The edict forbidding that type of relationship between humans and Fae was issued by leaders of all the clans,” he said, again just louder than a whisper.

  “But why? I mean, I can understand why the Unseelie would do it, knowing what I know about them, but I don’t understand why the Seelie would agree to that. I can’t stand the thought of anyone making rules about who you can and cannot…” I stopped myself when my inner voice took a swipe. You’re making a fool out of yourself, Maggie.

  The flush returned to my face. Staring across the lake, I took a deep breath. My mind grappled with strong emotions as they hit me in the chest. I knew I had feelings for Gavin—it was undeniable. He made my heart race, and I couldn’t stop thinking about him, but I forced myself to calm down. Besides, none of that changed the fact that he was only being friendly to me, nor did it change the fact that at no point in time had he shown any interest. Why would he? I was a temporary thing to him. I was a butterfly that would entertain him through one season, flittering around in the air from one flower to the next, only to disappear in autumn. I’d be replaced by another, soon enough.

  “The rule wasn’t always there, Maggie. Unions did occur in the past, and every time they ended tragically.”

  Gavin exhaled slowly, and gradually lifted his huge brown eyes to mine.

  “One of our elders fell in love with a mortal. She was a beautiful and kind being, one of the oldest and wisest among us, and he was an honorable young man.” His rich voice was full of emotion, and I noted that he used the past tense—it stirred in my chest. “They spent the blink of an eye together, it seemed, but it would affect her for eternity.”

  He said that they met in Ireland, and that the man was very young—not much older than me. “He was beautiful and strong, for sure, but it was his singing that ensnared her.”

  Gavin tossed a rock at the water. “At first, she took the form of a tiny yellow bird with long graceful feathers and a hint of gold at the tips, just enough to glow in the morning light. She flew to a branch above him, and when he saw the bird he was stunned for a moment by its beauty—he’d never seen a bird like her before. He changed his song and sang to her. Of course, he did this not knowing she was actually Sidhe—one of the Irish Fae. He sang of love, of his homeland, and of spring. He was mesmerized by the tiny bird that didn’t fly away, and she was dazzled by him. He named her Caorann after the Rowan tree in which she sat. Caorann, he sang, I’ll love you forever.

  “She’d never given men much thought, and she’d never revealed herself before, always watching people from a distance. Down two branches she bounced, just inches from his face. He was startled by the brave little bird, but bowed deeply and continued singing. When still she had not flown away, he began to talk to her. He told her of the life he wanted, and of his ideal mate—the woman of his dreams. He pulled bread out of his bag and offered some to the brave little bird. He lay back in the grass, staring up at his beautiful new companion, and put his entire life to song. As twilight approached and the warm day drew to a close, he finished with another. He smiled, and promised to return the following day.

  “She was so moved by the boy under the Rowan tree that she took human form. She made herself exactly as he had described and she waited for him to return. The next day he did. His mouth gaped at first. He quickly apologized to her, telling her that he’d never seen anyone in that particular spot before. She smiled and said that she was told to be there at that particular spot to meet someone special. He asked who had told her. She replied…”

  “A little birdie told me? Gavin, you have to be kidding,” I said trying not to laugh.

  “Don’t interrupt, Maggie,” he said with a wide grin, and he continued. “They fell in love.”

  My heart raced when the words came out of his mouth. So, a Fae could love a human—it was possible. I grabbed onto the possibility like a lifeline.

  “They built a small stone cottage near the Rowan tree, and lived in each others’ embrace for eighty years. She stayed in the physical world for decades, never leaving his side. But as he grew older and frail, the stark reality of his mortality set in. She had found true love, but time was going to rip her lover away. At first, she left him for brief periods of time, only while he slept, to search for it.”

  “Search for what?” I asked.

  Gavin’s face turned red and he winced. “For some method, some way, something that might save him, to give him immortality,” he said, his voice rising. “She was desperate to keep him alive. It was so unfair she thought. She had all the time in the world only to drown in grief when he passed.”

  “That’s so sad,” I said, leaning against Gavin’s shoulder. “But I don’t understand what’s so bad about the loss—it is a part of life.”

  “You don’t quite comprehend, Maggie. Caorann found the thought of living for an eternity without him unbearable. As he grew weaker, she searched more frantically for something to preserve their time together. She searched further abroad, spending days and weeks away from him. Then, on one cold morning, she returned to the cottage. There was no fire in the hearth—her love had passed while she was away.” Gavin stopped for a moment, breathing heavily, and looked down.

  “What is it, Gavin?” I asked.

  He looked up. His eyes were wet, but his smile returned. “I’m fine, Maggie, but remembering Caorann’s pain is nearly more than I can bear.”

  “You don’t have to tell me anymore. I think I understand now,” I said, trying to make it easier on him—I’d do anything to keep him from feeling pain. This time I didn’t hesitate—I grabbed his warm, thick hand and held it in mine.

  “No, Maggie, the worst is yet to come, and it’s something you have to hear.” He smiled, again locking his eyes onto mine. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  He took a deep breath and continued. “She clung to his body and spoke to him, begging him to wake. She kissed his face, still beautiful in her eyes, and pressed her ear to his chest, desperate to hear his heart beat again. It did not. She begged his lifeless lips to call her name just once more, but they did not move. Her pain turned to agony.”

  The anguish in Gavin’s voice hit me squarely in the chest. Tears began to well up in my eyes as he went on.
br />   “She screamed at the walls of the tiny cottage, cursing them, as tears flowed down her face to the point she couldn’t see through her human eyes. She had known her greatest happiness with him, but from then on she would know nothing but pain. She begged for someone to help her, but none could. His essence was gone. She was alone, and for the first time in her existence, she hated being alive.

  “Several of us went to see her in the days that followed, but she ignored us. After days of our pleading, Caorann finally brought herself to bury his remains. She placed him under the Rowan tree, in the very place where he lay in the grass, eighty years before, singing to her.

  “She told us their story, caressing the grass above his grave. Fighting back the pain, she told us about every moment and emotion she’d ever felt with him. Then she smiled, looked up at us with tear-stained eyes, and said goodbye.”

  I’d lost my battle with tears—they flowed unbridled down my cheeks.

  “She spent the next sixty years at the cottage, refusing to take her natural form and never uttering another word. With each sunrise she went and sat under the tree, and at sunset, consumed by grief, she returned to the cottage. One morning, she realized that the tree was dead. In truth, it had been dead for several seasons but she hadn’t noticed before. She surveyed the cottage and found it in ruin. Tears flooding her eyes as if she’d only just lost him, she took one small, carved stone from the hearth he’d built and disappeared.”

  My throat burned as I fought to keep the sobs in my chest. I wasn’t sure what was making me cry, the story or the pain in Gavin’s face as he told it. I dabbed my eyes with my sleeves, and smiled.

  “Wow, you know how to break a girl’s heart, don’t you?” I asked, forcing a laugh.

  “I’m sorry Maggie, I know you don’t like to cry,” he said, leaning against me.

  “No, it’s alright. I don’t cry much, but I believe every once in a while a good cry does the soul good. At least that’s what Grandma Sophie says.” I wiped at another tear. “I just can’t imagine sixty years of heartbreak, that’s all. It’s silly, but I want to help her.”