Through The Waterfall--Book 1 Guardian Of The Realm

Through The Waterfall

By

Sandra Elsa

Book One –Guardian Of The Realm

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 by Sandra Panicucci

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Foreword:

I have used real place names, and in several instances real facility names, i.e. restaurants, stores, etc. however I have no knowledge of these places except that they exist, so everything pertaining to them in this novel exists purely within this writer’s mind. On occasion I used menu items from an online menu, but I offer no guarantees you can go there and actually order what Tess had for lunch. In other words, this is fiction and the story, places, and characters, are also fictional in no way created to resemble real characters or happenings.

That said, please enjoy this tale and if you like it, or hate it, please leave a review.

Chapter 1

Ninety degree weather and I'm riding around searching for toadstools for Grandma's potion.

Toadstools from a fairy ring no less. Not like I could pass off any old toadstool. In a world populated with non-magical people, Grandma was one of the few who could tell the difference.

Might as well answer the thunderous invitation of the waterfall and cool off. Besides, there were usually toadstools in the woods beside the tumbling water. Not that I'd ever seen them in a fairy ring.

Sweat stuck short bay hairs to my legs as I slid off Nella's back and led her into the cool pond at the foot of the falls. She drank a few swallows, pawed at the water, splashing me until my t-shirt clung to my breasts and hips, and my legs were free of horsehair. Done playing, she lowered herself to roll on a barely submerged sandbar.

After we cooled down I tied her to a small oak while I did the obligatory search for a fairy ring. It was cooler in the shade of the pine trees. Large droplets of water splashed my face. A constant bombardment from the falls kept the branches moist

Didn't search long. Didn't have to. It was a small patch of trees and it contained the largest fairy ring I'd ever come across. Considering the heat, I wasn't going to question a miracle. My hand hovered over a thick patch of toadstools while I scoffed at the subconscious thought that made me select one that wouldn't break the circle.

Magic was real. Why not fairies? Sweat joined the water from the pond in coursing down my skin in rivulets, this time the sweat was caused by more than heat.

Selecting a small brown specimen with bright yellow spots I popped it in my hip pack and started back toward Nella.

A flash of lavender flitted through the pine branches. An extraordinary hue for a bird. It was followed by a sparkle of yellow. Burning eyes reminded me to blink and in that moment three more dots of brilliant color flitted by, two sapphire and one rose red.

A titter of laughter had me spinning in circles. Get hold of yourself, Tess. It's the heat. I spun on my heel and headed toward Nella at a speed just shy of running. Forcing calm on myself to keep Nella controlled, I untied the reins and leaped aboard in one swift motion.

The tugging on my hair was more than wind. The voice in my ear, far too real. Stop, Miss!

I drove my heels in Nella's sides and clung to her wet back. She responded with her usual exuberance to being allowed to run wide open.

My parents died nine years ago. Since that night, nothing unusual intruded in my life. Unusual for me and Grandma anyway.

Grandma belonged to a coven of witches and dragged me around the countryside so I could learn from the best. It took a bit more for me to consider something out of the ordinary.

This qualified.

The creature that killed my parents and tried to kill me was not of this world. Neither were these tiny dots of color, and I wanted nothing to do with them.

Flying dots, plus ring of toadstools, equals fairies. Any fool could do the math. Growing up with stories of good and bad fairies didn't incline me to give them a chance to lure me into their world. They’re not there. I can't hear them. I leaned forward over Nella’s neck and repeated those words in my head

Maybe fairies aren't telekinetic like the beast that rolled my parents’ car over, and they were tiny, but magic changes the scale of things.

I swatted at a lavender dot that flew by my ear. An aerial ballerina, she touched my hand and flipped in front of my face. Little buggers were fast. Their numbers trailed off as we left the waterfall behind until only two flitted near me. The lavender and a rose hued creature. The lavender grabbed my hair and floated behind me. The rose grabbed Nella's mane. I released the reins and batted at them as though riding through a cloud of gnats. Finally, even they let go and drifted behind.

Collecting the reins from Nella's neck, I pulled her down to a trot and then a walk, all the while, glancing over my shoulder, searching for minute dots of out-of-place color.

After putting Nella away, I took the toadstool in to Grandma and placed the slightly crumbled, yellow spotted specimen on the kitchen island, it made my fingers tingle. Hope that's enough.

I'm sure it will be. She reached out for it, promptly snatching her hand away.

Something wrong? I asked.

She bent over to put her face on a level with the counter top and closed her eyes. The wooden spoon she held in her left hand, unerringly jabbed at the toadstool, rolling it from side to side.

When she opened her eyes she stared at me, wooden spoon tapping. Did you run into anything peculiar?

If you mean the owners of the fairy ring, then yes. They chased me halfway back here.

An active ring. Grandma rubbed her hands together and chortled. Lordy girl, this tiny toadstool's a treasure. Far more energy than I can touch. She put a cutting board on the island and laid her silver athame next to it. Do me a favor and dice it into tiny useable bits, please.

The magic prickled as I made cut after cut until Grandma was satisfied with the tiny cubes. She handed me a pair of sterling tongs. Now put one in the pot and the rest in this jar. After a moment she thumped a second jar down. Half and half."

When the toadstool was in its proper containers, she poured oil in one jar and closed the other with a vacuum sealer.

The potion on the stove began to bubble and I reached out and stirred the liquid. The odor changed from heavily herbed vegetable stew to candy. The olive green color shifted to dazzling violet. I leaned over the pot to better inhale the sweet scent.

Vertigo hit me. I turned in time to catch Grandma's jaw snapping shut, her warning much too slow. She hurried to guide me to a chair at the dining room table.

Sitting sideways, one hand gripping the ladder-back, the other clutching at the polished oak table, I swayed. The wood had a cooling effect and I concentrated on grounding myself. Grandma rushed back and laid a dripping paper towel on my forehead. Cool water chased sweat into the corners of my eyes. Shutting them only heightened my dizziness. Colors swirled beneath my eyelids and I opened them again, blinking at the salt.

Gradually the room stopped spinning and I relaxed my death grip on the table. Grandma stood back and I dried my forehead on a sleeve. What the hell is that?

A flicker of disapproval passed over Grandma's face, but she gave up chastising me over bad language years ago. Somehow the most powerful witch I knew, considered herself a good Christian, not a pagan, and she used to get upset about 'hell' and 'damn' and any other colorful words I came up with. But she knew how to pick her battles. It's a simple attraction spell. She answered my question. Cora asked me to make her a batch.

Attraction? Don't tell me I just inhaled a love potion.

Grandma patted my hand. Not necessarily. It's designed to attract whatever you need most. Cora's hoping her grandson can attract a job. And let's not forget this is one of those, I-told-you-so, moments.

OK, not so bad then. Yes, you've warned me over and over, but it smelled so sweet. So what decides what is most needed?

She rolled her eyes. The magic does.

Guess I should have known that answer. She made it sound so simple. Wouldn't be the first time magic screwed me over. So what about me?

Your reaction is most likely due more to the release of the toadstool's energy than to the overall spell.

Sounded reasonable. I hope you're right. Wouldn't mind attracting a little money my way. But magic seems determined I need a man in my life. Wrong thing to say. Opened up the floor for one of Grandma's favorite discussions.

You need more than me and those horses.

I refrained from stomping my foot, barely. Nella and Jax never started going out with my friend, or just stopped calling me, or any of the myriad other break-ups I've had. I'm not meant to have a boyfriend, Grandma.

You drive them away.

I'm only seventeen.

A shadow passed over Grandma's face. I'm not going to be around forever.

I hated when she brought that up. True she wasn't a spring chicken. But she always said it like the end was right around the corner.

I've got friends, I said defensively. Gladys and I are going to the movies this weekend.

You have 'a' friend.

Carl's going too.

Sometimes I wished I had a half –dozen brothers and sisters to occupy Grandma. Carl is Gladys's friend.

It's not like he refuses to talk to me. If I was honest though, I had to admit Carl thought I was a little strange.

You need to get out more.

You said the spell shouldn't affect me, so this is moot. I like my life the way it is.

I wanted you to be strong, but sometimes I wish you wouldn't be quite so mule-headed.

So what makes the toadstool I brought so potent? Did you see that track switch coming? Even Grandma could figure out my subtle hints.

I've always believed the wee-folk existed. Never saw one though. Everything I've ever read, claims fairy rings in use are bursting with earth energy. When the fairies move on, they release the energy so the toadstools only contain residual amounts.

And I could touch it because I don't have much magic of my own?

Grandma's jaw worked, eyes narrowed, frustration plain. Why do you insist you're weak?

My potions never work as good as yours.

I taught you better than that.

I could brew a mediocre potion to get rid of zits--which is important to a seventeen-year old trying to survive being the one with the loony grandmother. Not that I thought she was loony. I'd seen too many of her spells work to think she was anything but awesome. But back to me. What am I supposed to think? Weak potions. My nose won't twitch. Nothing happens when I blink at it and pointing usually just makes people wonder if I'm talking to them.

Grandma huffed. She always did when I referenced TV magic. Only time I ever heard her swear was when she informed me Samantha was not a witch and Endora was close, but I had to replace the 'w' with a 'b'. She sometimes watched the shows with me but every instance of magic was met with a groan.

How many times do I have to tell you, magic isn't in your nose, or your eyes, or even your finger--although sometimes pointing does help your concentration-- it's in your mind.

My turn to sigh at the repetitive nature of the argument. We've had this discussion too. It's in my music. That's the only time I see a hint of personal power.

Music is your focus. Energy as strong as yours requires a firm focus or you risk it going astray. Grandma insisted I learn to play the flute when I was eight. If she'd told me she believed I could heal the crushed vertebrae that kept me confined to a wheelchair I'd have doubted. Then of course it wouldn't have worked. Instead she told me it was an outlet for an eight year old paraplegic. Something to do besides watch TV and pity myself. The flute came naturally to me and I lost myself in the music.

It wasn't until a year later when my foot started twitching with the music that Grandma told me I was healing myself. I knew she spoke the truth. I'd felt the energy wind around me from the first off tune note I'd played. Just didn't know what it was. After that, every moment I wasn't eating or sleeping was spent with the flute, or singing. Music became my life until six months later I stood and took two wobbly steps before falling on my face. After that my life became three steps, then four, until I could run as fast as before the accident.

I'd always be grateful for that, but there had to be a better way. I can hardly break out in song every time I do magic.

Your very first act of magic was more powerful than many people ever accomplish. True healers are rare.

And it only took me two years.

She shook her head and sighed. You were eight years old. Most people don't come into their magic until they're at least fifteen. And I didn't have the knowledge to tell you exactly how to do it. You've learned a lot from James Ross. That would be the Navaho shaman she dragged me to down in New Mexico. A crushed vertebrate would probably take you less than a week now.

I just shook my head. I could raise the energy but I couldn't focus it. She wouldn't believe that. I could do little things. But open wounds were out of the question. If I couldn't heal anything life-threatening, what was the point?

I stood. You're sure I won't be affected by your brew?

There aren't any guarantees.

If I inhaled too much of it, how long 'til it takes affect or fades away.

She chuckled. It's magic, baby girl. You can't fight it. It will wait around with the patience of Job until you get what you need most.

I stormed out. She tells me I'm powerful, then tells me I can't do anything to escape her potion. Here's hoping it was only the toadstool that sent my head spinning.

I turned Nella out in the paddock with Jax, then went into the tack room, pulled out my books, and began looking up attraction spells. I just flipped to the table of contents when a flicker of color in the corner of the room caught my eye. I looked up to see the lavender dot from earlier. She was beautiful.

Don't trust beauty. Diaphanous lavender wings fluttered behind violet hair. The color was a combination of hair, wings, and a lavender shift. Her skin was the same well-tanned tone as mine.

Except that she was maybe four inches tall and wearing wings, she didn't look so different from anybody else I ever met. She froze when I looked at her. I'd seen animals react like that. Like if they were perfectly still I couldn't see them.

I ran a hand through my unruly auburn curls tugging fingers through knots, but I didn't take my eyes off her. Is this about the toadstool?

She unfroze enough to shake her head. I had to see you.

Why?

You answered the summons.

Oh for Christ's sake. Attraction spells and summonses. What summons?

To the portal.

Portal? You mean the fairy ring?

She sat on the beam she'd been standing on, heels drumming the thick oak. Of course not. Humans can't use rings. She said it as though I should have known that.

Well, I didn't see anything else that might have qualified.

But you nearly stepped through it. How could you not see it? Disbelief echoed in the tiny voice.

I added a dose of surliness to mine. Maybe because I'm not the one you're looking for.

We feel the power in you. A Guardian with your magic would assure the safety of the demesne. Her wings fluttered in agitation.

Leaning back in the chair and crossing my feet on the desk, I asked, Did I say I was looking for employment?

But you answered the summons.

I came to find a toadstool. I didn't see your portal. And I'm not working for fairies.

The tone became imperious. There will be others answering the summons. You live here so you responded first.

I didn't respond.

You did.

It was a barn. Three fly-swatters hung from nails by the door. I wondered if I'd actually have to swing it at her or if picking one up would give her the hint. I glanced at it and her wings fluttered again. I held up my hand and said, Come. I figured if she watched my magic fail me in my hour of need, she'd go away. Nobody was more surprised when the fly-swatter nearest the door flew from the nail and landed in my hand. Without hesitation, I pressed my advantage. The added length of the flyswatter put me well within reach of her beam. I dropped my feet off the desk. If you don't want me to knock you from your perch, lock you in a jar and sell you to the nearest side-show, you'll get out of my barn right now.

Naturally wide eyes opened to take up half her face. You wouldn't!

Get out.

But...

Out.

Why won't you listen?

Not that it's any of your business, but somebody from wherever it is you live, killed my parents. I want nothing to do with you.

But--

Out.

Will you at least not interfere if any others arrive?

They'll need to find a way to your little paradise without parading across my lawn. I hope your summons included a map.

Her shoulders twitched. Head bobbed in agitation. The wings fluttered and I finished it off by springing to my feet and swinging the fly-swatter at her. She darted out the door and disappeared.

#

A week went by and I didn't see any of their applicants. I didn't feel any unnatural urges to ride out to the back-forty, walk up to their portal and traipse through. Nor, thank god, did I seem to be attracting any males…or money for that matter, so I guess I dodged that bullet. I couldn't make anything else come to me like the fly-swatter had, so I figure that was a side-effect of inhaling toadstool. I suppose it was even possible that at that particular moment, I really needed the fly-swatter and Grandma's spell had brought it to me.

Life goes on.

Three months passed and I consigned the whole incident to the in case of emergency portion of my mind. Only to be recalled if I suddenly felt an unnatural attraction to somebody. Or a tiny winged person showed up in my barn.

So imagine my angst when two weeks later a tiny winged man showed up, not in my barn, but in my bedroom. And good lord, if he’d been five and a half feet taller I would have felt a most unnatural attraction to him. Unlike the beautiful woman. This one went shrouded in black. Jet black hair. Black wings, less lacy and more streamlined than the female's had been. And black clothing which was more along the line of jeans and a T-shirt than the fanciful shift the lavender lady had worn. Looked like they sent me the bad-boy. I'd have laughed at the thought except I didn't want to tick him off before I knew what his intentions were. Magic. Remember? Being six inches tall didn't mean he was weak.

He was sitting on a ceramic branch in my tree shaped lamp, swinging his feet, examining my room, when I woke up. A moment after I saw him, his attention drifted back to me. He flowed to his feet and stood there staring at me. A quiver fluttered his wings and I wondered how far the fly-swatter story had flown. It was too early for any snappy remarks to spring to mind, so I settled for bitchy. In my ever-so-soft-and-sweet morning voice, I muttered, Get the hell out of my room.

He looked nervous, but he stood his ground. Or lamp. Used to getting his way. He just had that air. If I was five inches tall he'd have a better shot. As is…not that interested. Too bad, cause he was smokin' hot. His eyes matched his ensemble. High cheekbones. Aquiline nose. Full kissable lips. He gave me the look. You know, the one that says I'm six feet tall, not six inches, and baby you'll do anything I want you to.

Not.

I wished he wasn't sitting on my lamp. If I threw a pillow at him he'd probably move quick enough and the lamp would crash to the floor. I settled for the next best thing. I scowled at him.

Not to be deterred, he said, We have to talk.

No! I've already said everything I care to. Little Miss Lavender surely reported her failure.

He ran a hand over his hair and fiddled with the gold ring holding it in a ponytail. She did.

Then why are you here?

King Ral sent me to make a deal with you.

What happened to your other candidates?

He fidgeted some more. His wings flapped open and remained pinned behind his back. We ended the summons. Joli--That's Miss Lavender to you--informed us you would not allow others to trespass.

I closed my eyes and counted to ten.

Damn. Still there. I didn't want them coming by my house. If you bring them in from the next road back, I don't care if they walk to the waterfall. I clapped my hands, just to watch him jump when the light turned on.

He did. Spectacularly. The wings snapped from their pinned position when he slipped from the ceramic limb, but there were more ceramic branches in the way. He wasn't clear to fly until halfway from his perch to the nightstand. Before he got that far, he managed to clutch another branch and pull himself up. He ran his hands over his wings. Damage check. When he had collected himself he turned and glared at me. That was not nice.

I glared back. I asked you to leave. Nice is not a requirement when dealing with an unwanted male in your bedroom.

He glanced up at the light bulb. Joli told me you were powerful. I've never before seen anyone turn on the sun by clapping.

I snorted. You guys don't get out much, do you? It's a light, and I didn't use magic. I clapped again and the light went off. It's science. We pitiful non-magical humans have replaced magic with science. It turns on and off when I clap because somebody designed it to.

The humans in this house are a long way from non-magical, he said, then poof, we jumped tracks again. It turned out to be a good thing we shut the summons down. It seems the council has decreed a major summonsing. Had we kept our small one going, we would not have the energy to assist them.

What's the difference? I smacked my forehead. Never mind. It doesn't matter.

As though the latter words never reached his ears, he informed me. Ours was a small summons, to search for a Guardian for our demesne. The council is searching to replace a major position.

Whatever. Will you please leave my room. Or do I have to summon my fly-swatter.

You would break this glass tree.

Too smart for his own damn good. I can force you out of there. I might break a wing pulling you between branches though.

The wings fluttered. Adams-apple bobbed. Will you not let me make the offer I was instructed to bring you?

And then you'll leave?

If you reject the offer. He swallowed hard and bobbed his head. I cannot return to His Majesty without uttering the words. He would know.

Then say your piece and get out. No sense getting him in trouble. He was only doing his job. And damn, he was cute.

Joli spoke of the difficulty you had with a citizen of the realm. I have been instructed to inform you that were you to become a Guardian we would assist you in any way possible, hunting down and slaying the creature who killed your parents.

There you've said it, now… His words sank in and I stuttered to a halt. Revenge. I'd never even thought about revenge. I just prayed the thing never came back to finish the job it started nine years ago. It had been far too big and powerful to even contemplate seeking it out for revenge. But if the fairies would help… No. I don't even know what it was. It was too strong.

Let us judge that. Perhaps if you described it, we could identify it. I sat up and flung my legs over the side of the bed, feet feeling around for my furry slippers while I maintained eye contact with the fairy. I pulled out the drawer of the maple nightstand and withdrew a sketch book. It was filled with page after page of the same thing.

He examined the drawings and said, At first glance I thought you ran into a dragon.

So did I. But the more I thought about it, the more certain I became it wasn’t. It didn't have scales. And while human descriptions of dragons vary considerably we all seem to agree on scales. Its teeth were too small and flat, as though it was herbivorous. But it had the size, and it had the wings and claws. Long neck and tail. It was telekinetic….

He was rubbing a hand back and forth along an ear, eyes half closed as though I'd just set him a big puzzle. You don't have a clue. Do you?

You lost me at herbivorous.

Plant eater.

You couldn't just say plant eater? And what is teleki—tele—

Telekinetic. It could move things with its mind.

He shook his head, a frown disturbing the beauty of his face. I'm sorry. This does not match anything I've ever heard of. Are you sure it was tele-ki-net-ic?

And telepathic. Threw another big word at him just to watch him squirm. He rolled his eyes so I continued. I heard it in my head. It unlatched my seat belt without touching it. Other things just…they just weren't right. The airbags never deployed. Mother's seat belt released as well. She was crushed under the car when she flew out the window. My parents were neurotic about safety. None of that should have happened. The accident shouldn’t have happened. The police declared it to have been a blown tire, but there wasn’t any sound to warn of a hazard nor was there anything in the road that should have started the car flipping end over end.

He rubbed at the ear again. I don't understand half of what you're talking about but you seem certain of your facts.

It felt good to discuss the accident with somebody who not only believed what I was telling him, but might have some answers. I'd kept it all inside far too long. Now I found myself on the verge of tears.

Grandma's door opened and I heard her headed down the steps. She'd be cooking breakfast shortly and I needed to get the horses fed. The distraction gave me a moment to collect myself. Look, not that I have anything against being woke up by a cute guy, but I have things I need to do, and this isn't going anywhere. I'm not going to be your Guardian, and my horses are hungry. Your message has been delivered, now I gotta get moving.

He preened when I said he