The Guardian's Kitsune
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Naruto x ?
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Author's Note
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Story Start
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After leaving Will's apartment Hay Lin began to hurry home. She began making way to her family's restaraunt, the Silver Dragon, the restaurant her parents had owned since her youth. As she traveled she found herself noticing each sidewalk cracked she stepped over. She stared broodingly. Then, idly, she started tapping her right toe on each crack.
Before she knew it, her left toe was tapping the sidewalk cracks, too.
A minute later, Hay Lin had only moved half a block. And that's when she realized she was dragging her feet.
Which would have been no big deal if Hay Lin had been, like, any other teenager. But she wasn't! She was...Air Girl. She was famous for skipping, not tripping. Running, not walking. She was Miss Energy, especially since she'd learned she was magical.
But today, Hay Lin's verve was completely vacant. Her heart just wasn't in it. The reason? Her grandmother was very sick.
If Hay Lin allowed herself to think about that, her vision began to blur and her lower lip started to tremble. So she didn't think about it.
She couldn't however, control the sadness that kept welling up in her chest. She couldn't even bring herself to step up her pack when the thunderclouds rumbling over her head finally opened up. While raindrops spattered her long, dark hair, Hay Lin simply continued to plod along.
Finally, she reached the restaurant. It was closed for the break between lunch and dinner. The empty dining room was eerily calm.
''Anybody home?'' Hay Lin called out timidly.
There was no answer. So she headed for the stairwell next to the kitchen that led up to their cozy apartment.
''Mom? Dad?'' Hay Lin called out as she tromped up the stairs. ''Are you there?''
When she reached the top of the stairwell, she heard her father's kind, quiet voice. But he wasn't talking to her. Her father was huddled in the middle of the hallway with a silver-mustached man.
It was Yan Lin's physician. ''What do you think, doctor?'' Hay Lin's dad was asking.
Hay Lin shrank against the tea-green colored wall and held her breath. her dad's back was to her. He didn't know she was there. But somehow, she couldn't bring herself to interrupt the conversation.
''Last month's flu weakened her quite a bit,'' the doctor admitted. ''She's having a hard time recovering.''
''I see,'' her dad said. He looked at his feet. ''The medication won't be of much help,'' he continued. ''The truth is, your mother is simply very old. She seems tired, quite frankly.''
The doctor has given her dad's shoulder a sympathetic squeeze as he added, ''We'll continue with all of the treatments. Stay close to her! That's what she needs most right now. Her family around her.''
Hay Lin felt her mouth go dry as the doctor's words registered with her. It sounded like he was saying there was nothing he could...nothing that could be done.
As her dad thanked the doctor, Hay Lin realized she was gasping for breath. The sound made the doctor peek over her dad's shoulder.
''Oh,'' he said. ''Hello, young lady.''
''Hay Lin!'' her dad said. He spun around and regarded his daughter. His gaze traveled from damp, puffy, blue coat to the puddle that was quickly forming around her shoes.
''You're dripping wet! Go change, before you catch something.''
Hay in tried to catch her dad's eye. She knew that the little bit of bluster was just a cover-up. Her dead was a big softie. And Hay Lin knew he was hurting inside.
'I guess he's not ready to deal,' Hay Lin thought, morosely. So she simply nodded.
''Okay, dad,'' she said, kicking her purple ballerina slippers into the stack next to the stairs and unzipping her coat. Then she walked down the hall toward her room.
As she tiptoed past her grandmother's room, a wispy voice wafted out toward her. It sounded a lot like the gentle chirping of a cricket.
''A warm south wind would work better than a hair dryer, little one.''
''Grandma!'' Hay Lin said. She peeked nervously into the sickroom. Then she walked in, slipping her coat off her shoulders.
''Go on,'' her grandmother said; peeking slyly into the hallway to make sure the coast was clear. ''Now that your father isn't around, let me see you use your powers.''
For the first time that day, Hay Lin felt a little zing of happiness shoot through her.
Her grandmother plus magic, she thought with a little giggle. 'I guess that's the formula.'
She tossed her coat and bag onto a chair and stood at the foot of her grandmother's bed. Then she closed her eyes and concentrated.
She imagined a cool breeze skittering across her cheeks. She pictured puffs of wind fluttering her grandmother's long, white hair. Hay Lin conjured up a friendly tornado, swirling around her.
And pretty soon, she felt the familiar whooosh of a real tornado, swirling around her body.
'It's happening,' Hay Lin thought with a grin. Involuntarily, she swooped her arms over her head. She squealed as her damp pigtails spiraled around her torso and her plum-colored miniskirt fluttered in the breeze. Now here was the part that her grandmother couldn't see which was too bad, because it was the best part.
This feeling.
Hay Lin felt sort of like she'd swallowed a million jet-puffed marshmallows. Or she'd suddenly become a bobbling balloon, barely tethered to earth by a string. Or she was living among the clouds.
She felt weightless, as light as air.
But then, as it always did, the magic began to dissipate. And when Hay Lin felt her pigtails dry and silky now, plop back down over her shoulders, she knew the moment was completely over.
She opened her eyes and smiled at her grandmother.
''What do you think?'' she asked.
''Ha-ha!'' Her grandmother cried. She clapped her feeble hands together. ''Splendid!"'
Hay Lin dropped to her knees next to the bed and smiled as her grandmother stroked her hair. Up close, she was startled by how sick her grandmother really looked. Her hair had gone wispy and thin. Her skin was pallid with illness. And her body looked tiny and weak inside her big, quilted, green robe.
Yet the cool, dry hand on top of Hay Lin's head felt powerful. As did her grandmother's word.
''I think you'll become very powerful and skilled, my little Hay Lin,'' she pronounced. Then she moved her hand to Hay Lin's cheek and gave it a pinch. ''But first, you'll have to put on a few pounds, if you don't want to northwest wind to carry you off!'
''The wind is my friend, Grandma,'' Hay Lin giggled. Then she felt her face grow serious.
''How do you feel today?'' she asked quietly.
''Hmph!' her grandmother said, looking even tinier as she scrunched back into the two fluffy pillows propping her up. ''Let's just say that I've seen better days.''
Then, as always, her grandmother turned the focus away from herself.
''And the other Guardians of the Veil?'' she asked. ''Are they well?''
''They're fine, Grandma,'' Hay Lin said. But she wasn't really thinking about her friends. She suddenly felt something desperate and hard well up in her throat. And she couldn't hide the fear in her voice when she asked, ''But you'll get better, won't you?''
''Of course!'' Her grandmother said, waving her skinny hand dismissively. ''I foresee great improvement. Now, help me sit up, Hay Lin there's something beneath my pillow.''
Hay Lin jumped to her feet and held her grandmother's arm as the elderly woman leaned forward. Then, when her grandmother nodded at her, Hay Lin thrust her hand beneath the pillows. Her fingers touched something smooth and powdery.
''A scroll?'' Hay Lin asked. She pulled out the rolled-up piece of paper. It was raggedy and the edges and yellowed with age. It was bound by a glinty brass ring.
''This is for you and your friends,'' her grandmother said quietly. ''Give it to Will; she'll know what to do with it.'''
''Wh-what is it?''
''It's a map of the twelve portals, little one,'' her grandmother said. She settled back against her pillows heavily. ''That is the number of openings in the Veil, the twelve passages that the creatures of Metamoor will attempt to cross through to reach our world.''
Gulping, Hay Lin unfurled the delicate parchment. She blinked. She turned the big piece of paper over. Then she peeked over at her grandmother. Was Grandma losing her mind as well as her health?
''There's nothing written on it,'' she said in confusion.
''Are you sure, Hay Lin?'' her grandmother replied with a glint in her eyes that scrunched her crow's feet into...a lot of wrinkles!
Hay Lin bit her lip and took another look at the ''map.'' And suddenly, she felt the paper do a little shimmy in her hands. With a metallic, zwwing noise, shadowy lines began to form on it.
''Oh!'' Hay Lin squeaked. She gasped as the shadows grew darker. They seemed to pulse and expand, growing more complex with each passing second. The lines rounded turned corners. Shadows scuffled into place around them. And suddenly, Hay Lin found herself looking at a familiar landscape, a city fanning out from an ocean beachfront surrounded by mountains on the other side.
Rather than a dry street map, this looked like an overhead photograph. Hay Lin could see the curve of every street, the rooftop of every unique building, even the little spit of beach that housed a black and white striped lighthouse, a light house Hay Lin recognized.
One she had visited on several field trips, yawning through the often nasally tone of the tour guide. ''This is Heatherfield!'' Hay Lin exclaimed as she spoke, the final street and building shimmered into place on the parchment.
Automatically, Hay Lin's eyes sought out her part of the town. And she noticed that one building on the map began to pulse. Then it started to glow, turning a glimmer pink.
''That shiny point...?'' she said.
''Is your school gym, where your first battle took place,'' Yan Lin confirmed. ''That was the first passageway. The flames closed it up.''
Then Yan Lin reached over the map and put a bony finger beneath Hay Lin's chin. She turned her granddaughter's impish face toward her own aged one. Hay Lin found herself staring into her grandmother's rheumy eyes. She could see a dozen different emotions in those eyes-love, weariness, hope, nostalgia, and most of all, resolve.
Above all, even above her illness, Hay Lin knew the grandmother was a very strong woman. And she seemed to be making every effort to pass that strength on to her granddaughter.
That was a lucky thing. Because her grandmother's next pronouncement chilled Hay Lin to the bone.
''But the next eleven portals,'' her grandmother informed her, ''you and the other Guardians will have to close yourselves.''
As Hay Lin spoke with her grandmother, someone was listening in. It was not an eavesdropping parent or one of the many microscopic, otherworldly creatures that inhabited Yan Lin's bedroom, guarding her from evil.
No, it was the Oracle, the being who had anointed the five Guardians of the Veil. He was gazing down upon the magical grandmother and granddaughter from the Temple of Kandrakar, the mystical palace that floated in the heart of infinity. The temple was suspended in a silvery substance that was lighter than air and purer than water.
Inside the temple, the Oracle strolled along a pathway that hovered magically above a lily-studded pond. The maze like walkways were endless, as was the distance between the pond's clear, warm waters and the temple's ceiling. The walls that enclosed the pond merely seemed to soar up into infinity. They were also covered with the colors and figures of a thousand otherworldly artists.
For it was only fitting that the minister of all things good and beautiful should be surrounded, at every step, with beauty.
The Oracle paused on the walkway and clasped his hands. Then he pulled his hand back into the flowing, bell-shaped sleeves of his long robe. Tibor-the ancient, stern man who always had and always would sand guard behind the Oracle's left shoulder stopped as well.
The Oracle's face broke into a peaceful smile. As the thoughts in his head became heavier, a flickering green window appeared in the air beside him.
Finally, the Oracle and Tibor began to watch over Hay Lin and her grandmother his messenger from the Temple of Kandrakar.
The Oracle felt pleasure suffuse his being as Yan Lin informed her sprightly little granddaughter that the Guardians mus close all the portals in the Veil themselves. Hay Lin, though daunted, did not lash out in fear of hostility.
The quavering Taranee or stubborn Cornelia might have responded differently, though, the Oracle thought. But that knowledge didn't crease his clear brow. For he knew that Taranee, Cornelia, and all the Guardians would soon learn to accept their fates gracefully and to master their powers. He knew, even if they didn't, that magic was in their blood and in their bones. It was their destiny-their calling.
The Oracle returned his gaze to Hay Lin who was curious about the map.
''The map doesn't show the portals,'' she was saying to Yan Lin. ''How can anyone use it?''
As if she were speaking to the Oracle's very thoughts, Yan Lin answered, ''I've already told you and your friends-with time you will learn everything.''
While Hay Lin continued to gaze at her grandmother quizzically, the frail, old woman, bowed her silverly head.
''Yes,'' the Oracle said to the old woman with powerful waves of telepathy. ''You may tell her. Tell her, Yan Lin, your story.''
With a small nod, Yan Lin looked up at her granddaughter and spoke.
''Once,'' she said in her reedy, whispery voice,''I, too, was a Guardian of the Veil, long before you. And once I, too, was very impatient, just as you are now.''
Hay Lin gasped and perched on the edge of her grandmother's bed, setting aside the precious map of Heatherfield's twelve portals.
''You were a witch, too?'' Hay Lin asked.
'Witch?'' her grandmother replied with a wheezy giggle. ''That's not exactly a compliment! But it certainly is funny. We aren't witches. We aren't even fairies.''
Taking Hay Lin's hand in her own, Yan Lin looked into her granddaughter's eyes and said,''We are something entirely different.''
Hay Lin's sparkly, almond-shaped eyes widened.
''There's something else,'' her ailing finger gesturing to her second drawer by her bed.
Hay Lin went over and pulled it open. She pulled out a pendant attached to a necklace with sterling silver backing with and a textured copper border with a little brass from the pendant is 2 pieces of Aventine beads!
''It's beautiful...'' The air girl said in awe.
''A gift your grandfather gave to me when we became engage.'' She said as a blissful look spread across her face. ''And I want you to have it. ''
''Grandma...'' Hay Lin mumbled softly as she held the object against her chest. Hay Lin didn't have too many memories of her grandfather and Yan Lin, who had nice things to say about the man didn't bring him up often.
''But in any case,'' Yan Lin continued, lightheartedly, ''I don't know anything anymore. It's your turn now, Hay Lin.'
''It's a portent,' The oracle thought, of things to come.
The Oracle's musings like the conversation between the elderly and young guardian were interrupted by Hay Lin's father.
He poked his head through the old woman's bedroom door. He was holding up a bottle of dark liquid. ''It's time for your medicine mother,'' he said. He stepped into the room and smiled. ''And please, no fussing! I've tried it myself and it's very tasty!"'
''If it's so good,'' Yan Lin shot back,''...why don't you put it on today's menu?''
''Come on,'' her son chided. He took Hay Lin's place on the edge of the old woman's bed. ''You won't want to make a scene in front of your granddaughter.''
Yan Lin grimaced. ''Once I was the one who spoon-fed you young man,'' she teased. ''But it never crossed my mind to force so nasty on you!"'
''Very funny,'' the man said, pouring some of the amber liquid into a spoon and nudging it into his mother's mouth. She swallowed the elixir and made another face.
''See,'' he announced. ''That wasn't so bad, after all.''
''Bleah!"' Yan Lin said after she swallowed. She stuck her tongue out like a child.
The gesture, at once so funny and so poignant, brought a surge emotion to Hay Lin's heart. And the intuitive Oracle felt the emotion in his own. It was painful and bitter-sweet. He placed a cool hand on his chest and knew that its comfort was flowing earthward, into the heart of the young girl.
It worked. She smiled at her grandmother through her tears.
''Take care, Hay Lin,'' Yan Lin purred with a smile. ''And don't forget, eat!''
''I promise,'' Hay Lin whispered. She leaned over and placed one simple kiss on the old woman's cool forehead. ''Good night Grandma.''
Hay Lin walked out of the tucked the map-once again bound in its brass ring-safely into her coat pocket. The oracle had seen enough. He waved his hand through the air. The pulsing, green window into his thoughts wavered until it was no more than a cloud of vapor with the faint scent of lemon-grass and hyacinth.
Then he turned to his adviser, who bowed his gray, woolly head deferentially.
''And so,'' the Oracle announced, ''the map of the twelve portals has been delivered.''
''Honorable Yan Lin has done truly excellent work, Oracle,'' Tibor responded.
''Yes,'' the Oracle said. ''And this means her mission has been completed.''
''I see.''
''You know what to do, Tibor,'' the Oracle said. He strolled away from his adviser with a graceful gait that required no effort. ''Inform the council of the congregation.''
As the Oracle floated away, he pictured Yan Lin in the comfort of her soft bed, surrounded by the love of her family. After she passed away, she would rise through the heavens effortlessly traveling through galaxies and dimensions. Eventually, she would arrive in the stadium like fortress of the council.
There, all the council members-from stalwart Tibor to even the violate, wolf-like Luba would join hands and dance around Yan Lin. I would be a dance of celebration, of gratitude, of welcome.
''Yes,'' the Oracle murmured, as he glided through his beautiful temple. ''She shall have the welcome she so greatly deserves.''
Cornelia tromped up the grassy hill, holding a stick of smoldering incense out in front of her. Its blue smoke smelled like sandalwood and sea grass. She knew the scent was supposed to be comforting, but it only made her nose itch. She put a gloved hand over her mouth to stifle a sneeze. Then she glanced behind her friends.
Will's and Taranee's faces looked as stricken as Cornelia felt. Will's knuckles were white as she clutched her own stick of incense. And Taranee, carrying a basket of snowy flowers, was more tremblingly than usual.
Even Irma, Cornelia thought, a girl who can always crack a joke, looks shaken. 'I guess that's because this is one of the saddest things we've experienced. A funeral for Hay Lin's Grandmother.'
A cool autumn breeze whisked over the hill. Cornelia flicked a tear from the corner of her eye and clutched her white shawl tighter around her shoulders. Then, at last, the large crowd of mourners completed their long, slow climb up the hill to the pretty meadow where the funeral service would take place. In their all-white clothes, the people looked like a flock of somber birds.
''White is the color of mourning in Chinese culture,'' Hay Lin had told Cornelia on the phone after she'd gotten the news about her grandmother. Her voice had been choked with tears. ''The color of snow.''
And then Hay Lin had to go help her parents. But before she'd hung up the phone, Hay Lin had told Cornelia something else. She'd informed her that her grandmother had also been a Guardian of the Veil in her own youth.
The news had shaken Cornelia. 'So, not only,' she thought, 'has magic suddenly invaded my life, but it's going to be a part of my life forever! I'm part of generations of Guardians. And someday, I'll have to pass the magic to some unsuspecting teenager.'
'Unless you win the battle,' a voice inside her said. 'If you conquer Metamoor's evil invaders, there will be no more need for Guardians. It's up to you, Cornelia. It's up to you...to you...to you...''
Cornelia tried to shake the pressure-cooker thoughts form her head and return her attention to the present. Several friends and family members were speaking to the group, saying affectionate, admiring words about Yan Lin.
Out of the corner of her eye, Cornelia saw mourners' hands holding bunches of white blossoms. Others clutched ivory ribbons.
''The color of snow,'' Cornelia whispered to herself.
She shivered as the funeral service neared its end.
Ribbons and flowers turning to snow, she thought. Yup, that makes about as much sense as anything else right now. I mean, how many more times will our lives change forever?
In school a couple of days earlier, everything had been normal. Well, as normal as it could be since the girls had become magical.
While the sun glinted off the tin roof of the Sheffield Institute, Cornelia had been hanging out with Will in the front courtyard. And she was enjoying the power that came with possession of a choice tidbit of gossip.
The instant Hay Lin, Irma, and Taranee had come into the courtyard, Cornelia blurted out. ''Did you hear the news? It's got everyone at school talking!''
''What news?'' Irma said. Cornelia couldn't help but relish, just a little it, the envious frown on Irma's face. Irma was usually the one with all the news.
'That's what comes from being a busybody.' Cornelia had thought.
But what she'd said was, ''The police are in the principal's office!"
Hay Lin gave a delighted shriek as the girls fell into step and headed for the front steps together.
''Poor Mrs. Knickerbocker,'' she'd said, ''She's mean, but not so mean that she deserves to go to jail!''
Will snorted. ''Sorry to disappoint you, Hay Lin,'' Will said. ''I guess you didn't watch the news on TV this morning, did you?''
''No, why?'' Hay Lin gasped. ''What did I miss?''
''It's even in the papers!"' Taranee cried. ''A boy from our school disappeared!"'
Cornelia had sighed. Well, it looked like the gossip wasn't exactly hers to dispense, after all. But as least she could provide the missing boy's name.
''Andrew Hornby,'' she announced. ''Do you remember him?''
''Who?'' Hay Lin gasped, giving a little jump. ''Do you mean that gorgeous blond guy from the upper school?''
''Exactly,'' Will said. ''He didn't go home for three days straight! As of last night, he's officially a missing person.''
The group fell silent. Even Irma! Cornelia gave her chatterbox bud a sidelong glance. Irma didn't have one breathless remark to make? Not one clever quip?
Apparently not. In fact, Irma was looking a little freaked. Her usually rosy cheeks were sweaty pale. She was gnawing on her full lower lip, completely wrecking her carefully applied cranberry-colored lip gloss.
Irma's silence was lost on Hay Lin, Either.
''Wake up, Irma! Hay Lin said, giving her friend a nudge. She whipped a fat, felt tip pen from the pocket of her slouchy, blue jacket and scribbled ''Andrew'' on her palm in purple ink. Then she held her hand before Irma's blinking blue eyes.
''Isn't that the one you're crazy about?''
''Well, yeah,'' Irma rasped. Then she'd skidded to a halt. The girls were in the school foyer, still several feet away from their lockers.
''What gives?'' Cornelia had sighed, glancing at her watch. ''We're gonna be late for first period!"
''In any case,'' Irma said, her forehead furrowed with resolve. ''I've been trying to tell you guys something.''
As she spoke, an office door swung open behind her.
'And that's not just any door,' Cornelia had thought, catching her breath. 'That's Principal Knickerbocker's door! Taranee saw it, too.'
''Look!'' she'd gasped. ''They're coming out!''
Dragging her friends with her, Cornelia had ducked behind a corner and peeked around it.
She saw the principal saying good-bye to two police officers. Then men began to stalk away, looking heavy and official in their blue hats and bulky cop jackets.
''Thank you for everything, ma'am,'' one of the men said over his shoulder. ''If we out anything, we'll let you know.''
''I'd appreciate that very much, Officer,'' Mrs. Knickerbocker said. ''Good luck.''
Cornelia looked down at Hay Lin with a grin.
''See?'' she said. ''They didn't take her away.''
Hay Lin smirked.
''Maybe another time!'' she said. Then she cackled mischievously.
''Hay Lin!'' Mrs. Knickerbocker suddenly called out. She'd spotted Hay Lin and the others peeking around the corner! ''I need to speak with you right away.''
''Did she hear me?'' Hay Lin asked her friends in a panicked whisper. They shrugged.
All Hay Lin could do was obey Mrs. Knickerbocker's order. Shooting her friends a terrified glance, she trudged into the principal's officer. As Mrs. Knickerbocker waited insider her officer door, she looked as imposing as ever. He wispy, white beehive quivered on top of her head, and her tiny eyes looked even tinier behind her horn-rimmed glasses. As Hay Lin ducked past Mrs. knickerbocker's bulky form.
Cornelia heard her squeak, ''I can explain everything, ma'am! It was only a little joke, and...''
''Sit down, Hay Lin...'' the principal began. Then she slammed the door shut.
What Cornelia knew now that Hay Lin hadn't been in trouble at all. Mrs. Knickerbocker had just gotten a call form Hay Lin's father. And then, behind the closed office door, she'd had to break the terrible news to Hay Lin: Her grandmother had passed away.
'Now, here we are,'' Cornelia thought sadly. 'While she'd been lost in her memories, Yan Lin's service had ended. The White-clad mourners began walking back down the hill. But Cornelia and her fellow Guardians lingered behind to wait for Hay Lin, who was giving her parents big, sad hugs. Hay Lin burst into tears and fell into her parents' arms.
'If only we could use our magic to whisk away our pain.' Cornelia thought. 'Then it might not be so bad having these strange powers.'
Cornelia sighed and glanced at Will, Taranee, and Irma. They were standing next to her, looking miserable as they gazed at Hay Lin.
'Does this magic thing freak them out as much as it does me?' Cornelia had to wonder. 'I mean, I know Taranee is scared. And I have a feeling Will's a little weird-ed out that her powers are differing from ours. And Irma...Irma is probably only as upset as she would be if they canceled Boy Comet.'
'But me,' Cornelia thought, 'I've always had this need to have my life in control. I love that feeling of balance I get when I'm doing a prefect spiral in a skating routine. Or when my room is put together just the way I like it, even if the way I like it is in a total mess.'
'But now,' she thought, 'I have control over nothing.' Another round of tears welled up in her eyes. She looked down at her feet.'
Everything was changing. Her best friend, Elyon, and Elyon's parents were missing. And now she was also morning with Hay Lin for Hay Lin's sweet, departed grandmother.
Nobody asked me if I wanted to be a Guardian of the Veil, Cornelia thought miserably. As self-pity washed over her, she saw Hay Lin approach their little group. Looking even smaller and wirier than usual, Hay Lin gave Will a tight hug.
''Thanks for coming, guys,'' she whispered in a raspy, small voice. ''I love you all.''
Cornelia opened her mouth to respond. But she couldn't think of what to say. And that distressed her, too.
'I can't even be a good friend to Hay Lin,' Cornelia thought, kicking angrily at a tuft of grass. 'Because, well...how can I be a good fellow Guardian when i don't even want to b a Guardian? What's more,' she thought with a sigh, 'ever since Elyon vanished without a trace, I had nobody to talk to about all this.'
Cornelia bit he lips as she thought of her best friend. Elyon had done more than vanish. Apparently, she'd also set a trap for Will, Hay Lin, and Irma. They'd been scared to deathly by some gruesome Metamoorian monsters!
For Cornelia, that was perhaps the most bizarre part of all of it that Elyon could betray her friends. Cornelia couldn't quite bring herself to believe that her best friend was capable of that.
'No,' she thought stubbornly. 'It can't be true.' As Cornelia told herself that, she became vaguely aware of Hay Lin extricating herself form her hug with Will. Hay Lin was peeking over Will's shoulder and blinking her teary eyes rapidly.
'No,' Cornelia thought again with a determined shake of her head. I just can't believe that Elyon's bad. Not...
''Elyon!'' Hay Lin suddenly scream.
''What?'' Cornelia blurted out. She saw Hay Lin pointing to a spot down the hill. Cornelia spun around and followed her friend's gaze. She saw a knotty old tree, looming over a patch of dirt at the very edge of the cemetery. A few dried leaves rustled, and a couple of forgotten grave markers leaned against a wrought-iron fence nearby.
But Cornelia saw nobody, and certainly didn't see Elyon.
She gazed back at Hay Lin. She felt confusion and pain and dashed hopes roil in her gut. But Hay Lin seemed still to be seeing something.
''It can't be!'' Hay Lin cried. ''Elyon!''
Cornelia turned to squint down the hill one final time. Again, she saw nothing. That nothingness made another round of tears flood her eyes.
'It really can't be,'' Cornelia thought, morosely. Hay Lin must be crazy with grief, hallucinating. Nobody's there. Certainly not Elyon.
Elyon stood beneath a gnarled old tree. Under her feet, there was no grass. There was only dirt, lumpy with tree roots, bedraggled, neglected. A cold breeze rustled her straw-colored bangs and blew her long braids this way and that.
And suddenly, Elyon realized something. She'd never noticed the absence of cold! In Metamoor, that is, where she had been living for...a few days? A few weeks? Elyon blinked slowly. She didn't know anymore. And what did it matter? She was home now, in Metamoor, where she finally belonged, after years of exile here on earth.
She stopped to enjoy the rush of cool, damp wind on her face. It was good to feel the change of weather. In Metamoor. it was always beautiful. The sun shone steadily, the air smelled of sweet flowers. It was never too hot and never too cold. There was no inconvenient rain of ominous darkness. Of course, there was no thrilling thunderstorms, either. Nor was there any variety...
Elyon shook her head lightly to halt her thoughts. She refused to feel nostalgia for the false life she had lived in Heatherfield. That would only give them and what they wanted.
Elyon hummed a tuneless little song and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, the thought was gone. She couldn't even remember what the though had been. Only a hazy residue remained as easy to wipe away as a day's worth of dust on a table.
She blinked her enormous blue eyes lazily and shifted in her knee-high boots. Their soles scratched loudly in the dirt. In fact, Elyon began to feel a heightened awareness of all the noises...beneath her feet and in the air.
Caterpillars, undulating up the old tree trunk, made rustling, moaning noises that Elyon could her distinctly. The last dewdrop of the morning, falling off a tree leaf onto Elyon's royal blue garment, landed with a heavy, audible plop.
'This, Elyon knew, was her new magic. It had begun to burble up inside her.
A few moments later, all her senses, not just her hearing, began rising to extraordinary levels. The touch of a falling leaf glancing against her arm rippled through her entire body. The sun, glinting off faraway shafts of white marble, sparkled and danced in her eyes.
And that breeze! There were voices in it, the joyful call of songbirds flying hundreds of feet in the air and the soothing song of the dead beneath Elyon's feet.
Elyon was positively brimming with magic now.
And that meant it was time.
Elyon gazed up the hill. It was carpeted with a lush swath of verdant grass. She gave another lazy blink. Her mouth tightened into the smallest of smiles.
She didn't need to call attention to herself.
Her magic would call to 'them.'
'Them?'
That would be her ''friends'' the ones Elyon had left behind, the ones now mourning beside an open grave. Elyon had watched impassively as Hay Lin hugged Will and said, ''I love you all.''
Though Hay Lin's voice was just a raspy whisper, Elyon heard it clearly. Hay Lin could have been just inches away, whispering in her ear, sharing a secret, the way she used to during science class at the Sheffield Institute.
Again, Elyon closed her eyes to the memory before it could even solidify in her head. Then she felt it leave her mind like a puff of vapor swept away by the wind.
'A good thing, too. Because Hay Lin had just spotted her. Elyon watched the skinny girl withdraw from Will's embrace and point at her.
Elyon smiled her tight, tiny smile.
''It can't be!'' Hay Lin cried.''Elyon!''
A rustle of disbelief and confusion swept through the group. Elyon could feel their emotions thrumming through her own chest. She could feel Taranee clasp her hands in agitation.
She could sense the buzz of confusion inside Irma's head. She felt hope life in Cornelia's heart. And then she felt it die.
Because Elyon was no longer there. Or, rather, she was invisible due to her magic. It had reached its height, vibrating and shimmering through her with incredible power. In fact, the magic was so strong it threatened to fly away from her, like a skittish bird.
Since she'd arrived in Metamoor, Elyon had been practicing. Her mind had become increasing supple. She'd learned to control her unwieldy magic, to catch it, mold it.
''Elyon's here!"' Hay Lin insisted, pointing at the base of the tree.
Elyon was still there of course. The state of invisibility hid her from sight, but her very presence could not fool the air itself.
''What do you mean?'' Will asked. She gazed down the hill, seeing right through Elyon. ''Where?''
''She was down there,'' Hay Lin insisted. Her voice was still heavy with tears for her grandmother. ''I saw her!''
Hay Lin ran a few steps forward and called out to her once more.
''ELYON!"' she screamed.
Elyon did not answer.
Still, Hay Lin would not give up. ''She was there,'' she repeated to Will. ''I swear it! She can't have hidden so quickly!''
Will shrugged and glanced back at the rest of the group. ''Let's go take a look,'' she proposed. She started down the hill after Hay Lin.
'No,' Elyon thought. She squinted at Will, focusing on her with all her energy.
No.
''Maybe,'' Will began to say, ''...it was only...unhhnn...'''
Suddenly will staggered. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her hand flew to her tousled red hair and clutched at her head.
Elyon watched Will falter. Will looked dizzy, and her face was screwed up with confusion and, perhaps, pain. Elyon felt a flicker of concern in her chest. But it was quickly extinguished. Feelings like that belonged to the old Elyon. The one who had lived in Heatherfield.
As Will took a few unsteadily steps backward, Elyon blinked with calm satisfaction. Will was moving away from Elyon's tree, away from her.
''Will, are you okay?'' Taranee cried. All four friends turned to catch Will before her wave of dizziness knocked over her.
As Will's friends gathered around her, like a healing force field, Elyon watched, or did she feel? The wooziness drain from Will's head.
Will's brown eyes slowly fluttered open. Her fingers unclenched, and she smoothed a hank of hair from her now damp forehead.
''Yeah,'' she muttered slowly. ''I think I'm okay.''
Elyon blinked again.
And Will gave Taranee a smile.
''Everything's fine,'' she sighed.
Cornelia glanced over her shoulder at the base of the craggy tree, the space still inhabited by Elyon's spirit. Cornelia sighed. And then she announced, ''Let's go home, Hay Lin. You must have been mistaken. You're just upset.''
The girls began to climb back up the hill, heading toward the lingering crowd of mourners. As she followed her friends, Hay Lin shot one final glance over her shoulder.
Hay Lin is a dangerous one, Elyon. 'She, more than the others, believes in that which isn't seen. Smart girl,' she thought.
Then she felt the magic burble up within her once again. This time, it gave form to that which had been formless. Her body, her pale blond braids, her dress of rippling, silken fabric and billowing sleeves, all slowly became corporeal.
Elyon smiled. And this time, her smile was for real.
Because, in the same way that the magic had told her their thoughts and feelings, it now informed her that she was no longer alone.
Behind her was...he. Lord Cedric. Elyon didn't have to turn around the sense his presence or his beauty. She envisioned his long, silky hair rippling in the breeze behind him. His crimson coat framed his square shoulders with perfect precision.
Cedric's sharp features were ceased into a smug smile. ''Excellent, Elyon,'' he said, praising her.
A warmth suffused Elyon, like warm honey, like sweet satisfaction. She yearned to hear the words again.
And thus she did.
''Truly,'' Cedric whispered. ''...Excellent.''