The Water Witch (3 page)

“Close the door … forever? Can they even do that?”

“We’re not sure. We know that over the last hundred years every door but the one here in Fairwick has closed. Some believe that it’s a natural process, that as this world grows more crowded and polluted the avenues between the worlds become … 
clogged
. But we at Fairwick believe that the witches of the Grove have been working spells to close all the doors, and that they intend to close this one. If they do, all of us who came from Faerie will have to decide which world we want to live in …” A look of pain flickered across Soheila’s soft brown eyes.

“Why?” I asked. “I mean, I thought you already had chosen to live in this world.”

Soheila let out an expulsion of breath that shook the branches of the trees and rippled the water in the stream. “Many of us have, but we still need to go back to Faerie every few years to refresh our power. Otherwise we begin to fade.
If the last door closes, those of us who live in this world will have to decide between going back to Faerie or eventually fading and dying in this world.”

“What a horrible choice to make,” I said.

“Yes,” said Soheila, “but at least we have a choice. The ones who would really suffer would be the creatures who need to come to this world to breed—like the undines.” She waved her hand toward the vibrant stream teeming with young, boisterous creatures. “Without access to this world, their species will die out.”

W
e continued to follow the stream through the woods, its gurgle accompanying us like a fifth companion. I knew when I agreed to join the Grove that my loyalty to my friends at Fairwick might be tested, but I hadn’t known that I’d be thrust into a conflict so soon. If the Grove was really coming here to close the door to Faerie, would I be compelled to take a side?

It was true that I’d seen some pretty dangerous creatures come through the door, but I’d also seen harmless ones. Many of my closest friends had originally come from there. Which of them, I wondered now, would choose to leave this world if they knew it was their last chance to go back?

My thoughts were interrupted by a loud splash. An undine had leapt over a boulder, her slim transparent body twisting in the sunlight as she performed a backward flip. Immediately two others copied their sister with their own flips, the second one adding a double somersault and a midair twist.

“Great, now they’ll all have to do it,” Liz muttered, hands on hips. She clapped her hands briskly and called in a stern
Jean Brodie brogue, “Come along, girrrls, we haven’t got all day. No time for showing off.”

In response one of the undines performed a triple axel worthy of Sarah Hughes at the 2002 Olympics.

“Very well,” Liz said, the ghost of a smile flitting across her face. “Get it out of your systems.” And then, noticing me on the path behind her, she added in a low voice, “Poor things. I can’t begrudge them their little bit of fun. They have a difficult journey ahead of them … and then, this might be the last time I ever see an undine run.”

Glancing at Liz, I noticed the smile had faded from her face.

“Soheila told me about the meeting next week,” I said. “Do you think the Grove will really try to close the door? Will IMP go along with it?”

Liz turned to me, her face looking suddenly older. The truth was I didn’t know how old she was. Witches could augment their life span with magic. If Liz had seen the undines run before that meant she was more than a hundred years old. Normally, she looked like a stylish, well-preserved sixty, but right now her eyes seemed to have seen a century of woes.

“I believe it is what the Grove has been working tirelessly to achieve for over a hundred years. Before I came to Fairwick I taught at a girls’ school in the Hudson Valley. There was a door to Faerie nearby. The school was run by the witches of the Grove, who believed that the creatures who came from Faerie were all evil and must be destroyed.” She shuddered. “Some of the creatures
were
evil. But some of us came to believe that not all the denizens of Faerie were bad. There was a rift, followed by a battle in which innocent blood was shed …” Liz’s voice trembled. She bit her lip and looked away until she had mastered her emotions.

“I wasn’t the only one to lose loved ones. The witches of the Grove suffered losses they still haven’t recovered from. They closed the door to Faerie near the school and since then all the other doors to Faerie have closed, except for the one here in Fairwick.”

“Soheila said that some people believe it’s a natural process …”

Liz shook her head impatiently. “No more than global warming is a
natural
process. The Grove has been closing the doors with their spells. This door would have closed already were it not for the spells we’ve cast to keep it open, but over time it’s become harder and harder to keep the door open. We were afraid that it was closing for good … but then you came …”

“If the Grove wants to close the door will IMP be able to stop them?”

Liz sighed. “I honestly don’t know. There has been a growing conservative trend among the governing members of IMP. They’re concerned—and rightfully—about the dangerous nature of some of the creatures that come through the door. Even some of the fey members of the board would like to limit future immigration. I’m afraid that it’s possible that IMP would vote with the Grove.”

“If the vote went to closing the door, as doorkeeper would I be able to stop them?” I asked.

Liz gave me a long, considering look. As far as I knew her magical powers didn’t include mind reading, but I felt that she could tell I had a guilty secret. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “You’ve already demonstrated extraordinary power in opening the door, but you haven’t yet had to go up against a really powerful witch—and mark my words, the witches of the Grove are
very
powerful. The truth is we don’t know the
limits of your power. The combination of fey and witch bloodlines makes for a powerful but unstable mix. You should have been trained from early on …”

Liz looked embarrassed to have brought up this detail from my past. My parents had died when I was twelve, leaving me to be raised by my grandmother Adelaide. Since Adelaide was a witch she should have, by all rights, trained me herself, but she hadn’t. She later claimed that she had seen no sign of magical power in me and assumed that my half-fey ancestry had canceled out my witch’s power. It wasn’t until I moved to Fairwick that I discovered I had any power at all—or even that such creatures as witches and fairies existed.

“… and I have been remiss in getting you the proper training,” Liz continued. “I promise we’ll start this summer … as soon as we’ve got the undines settled. Your magical abilities need nurturing,” she said, turning to walk ahead of me on the path. I only heard her next words because they were carried to me on a gust of wind. “Heaven knows we may all be in sore need of them.”

I caught up to Soheila, Liz, and Diana at the edge of a waterfall. They were watching the undines tumbling down into a wide pool. Another stream rushed into the pool from the south. In the distance I could make out several fishermen standing knee deep in the water, casting their lines out over the sun-dazzled water of the lower branch of the Undine.

“Won’t the undines be in danger of getting caught in those lines?” I asked. “And won’t those fishermen be … 
surprised
to find a teenage girl on their hooks instead of a rainbow trout?”

“The Department of Ecological Conservation has declared Sul’s Eddy off limits until the beginning of July,” Liz told me.

“
Officially
to prevent overfishing on the Undine, but really because we’ve got friends in the department who are giving us time to get the undines out,” Diana added.

“But we have to act fast,” Soheila said, leading the way down the steep, rocky path to the junction pool. “The underground passage to Faerie is on the far side of the pool, but the undines get confused because of the different currents. They could head down into the lower branch of the stream if we don’t help direct them.”

At the bottom of the falls there was a metal sign erected by the Fairwick Fly-Fishing Club. It seemed out of place here on the edge of Faerie … until I read it.

Sul’s Eddy is one of the most famous pools in angling lore. Formed by the waters of the Undine and the Beaverkill, it is a pool with strange and mystifying currents and eddies. Legend says that the confusing flows cause migrating trout to linger for days trying to decide which stream to enter. This indecisiveness causes delay which, in itself, is the reason many of the largest trout in the Undine are taken from this pool
.

“The same thing happens to the undines,” Soheila said. “Look, you can see them swimming in circles. They’re confused by the currents.”

I looked into the pool. At first I saw nothing but clear water; then I noticed circular ripples spreading out from the center of the pool.

“This is bad,” Liz said. “When a few start swimming in circles they create a whirlpool that sucks all of them into it. It’s a sort of mass hysteria.”

“How do we get them to stop?” I asked, the spinning circles making me dizzy.

“The way you get all teenage girls’ attention,” Diana said, pulling a swath of gaily colored material out of her rucksack. “By distracting them with something bright and shiny.”

•  •  •

The objects in each rucksack were kites—fancy, elaborate kites purchased at the Enchanted Forest Toy Store in town. Diana had bought different shapes for each of them, but none for me.

“We’ll use the kites to lure them to the far side of the pool,” Liz explained to me as she took her kite out of its packing. “You wait on the far side and concentrate on opening the passage.”

I wasn’t sure how that would work, but I went obediently to the far side of the pool, sat on a rock overhanging the water, and watched the women launch their kites. Liz sent hers into the air with an impressive cast that landed the kite well in the middle of the pool. It lay on the water for a moment, then sank. Liz gave the line a gentle tug and the cloth swelled beneath the clear water and took the shape of a curvaceous mermaid with long red hair and a seashell brassiere, clearly modeled on Disney’s Little Mermaid. At another tug from Liz, the mermaid wiggled her hips and shimmied through the water. Within seconds several of the undines were following the mermaid through the water, their mossy green eyes as wide with wonder as any nine-year-old at Disney World.

“They’re really quite simple at this age,” Soheila said as she deftly cast her owl kite into the water. Instead of merely sinking, the kite performed an elaborate parabola above the pool and then dove in the water as if it had spied a tasty fish.

“Show-off,” Diana said with a laugh. “Just because you’re a wind spirit doesn’t mean you have to make the rest of us feel inadequate.”

There was nothing inadequate, though, in the way Diana’s deer kite bounced merrily over the surface of the pool and then somersaulted into the water with a flick of its white tail.
My companions might not be giddy teenagers, but they hadn’t lost the will for friendly rivalry.

Peering down through the water I saw swarms of undines circling the colorful kites. They had formed three separate circles.

“I’m afraid all we’ve done is make the current even more confusing for them,” Liz said. “The underwater passage to Faerie is right below you. Can you see it?”

I leaned farther to look into the water. At first it was difficult to make out anything among the whirling water, colorful kites, and semi-transparent undines, but at last I saw something flash among the rocks at the bottom of the pool. It looked like a bright gold coin, so bright it was hard to look at. But as I stared, it grew larger and shot out rays of gold light into the roiling water.

“See!” Diana crowed triumphantly. “Callie just needed to look at the passage to make it grow bigger. I told you she was a powerful doorkeeper.”

Clearly there’d been some dispute about the matter, which might have bothered me if I didn’t have my own doubts about my power. I squinted up at the three women who stood between me and the midday sun.

“You’ve opened the door before,” Liz said. “I know you can do it again.”

“The first two times I was letting creatures into this world. I have a feeling that’s easier.”

“Yes,” Soheila agreed. “If the creatures want to come through, it would be.”

“And the third time was on the solstice, which is when it’s supposed to open,” I said, recalling the brief glimpse of Faerie I’d had that time: sloping green meadows and distant blue mountains. It looked lush and beautiful and I had felt a sudden yearning to go there … but then, recalling my dream last
night, I felt a chill. As Liz had pointed out, my power was unstable. I might find myself in the Borderlands if I tried the passage to Faerie.

“But the last time you opened the door to throw Mara through it,” Soheila said. “And she certainly didn’t want to go.”

Mara was a liderc—a life-sucking bird monster—who had masqueraded as my student. She had attacked me and chased me into the woods and nearly succeeded in killing me. “No, she didn’t want to go, but she was going to kill me if I didn’t get rid of her, so I was pretty motivated. Also, I used an opening spell from my spell book …”

“Really?” Liz said. “You combined witchcraft with your fey power? That’s … unusual. Do you recall the spell?”

I did, but I didn’t tell them that. I also didn’t tell them that I’d had help ejecting Mara into the Borderlands. I’d opened the door, but I hadn’t been strong enough to get her through it. At the last moment before Mara would have eaten me whole, Liam had appeared in shadow-form, torn Mara off me, and thrown her through the door. Liam hadn’t been able to follow because the iron manacles on his wrists kept him from entering Faerie. He was forever trapped in the Borderlands.

I was the one who’d clamped the manacles on him.

I hadn’t told the three women about Liam coming to help me. I knew they felt bad about convincing me to banish Liam when it was really Mara who had been feeding on the students. They didn’t need to know that Liam had saved me even after I’d condemned him to eternal pain.