Chapter One
“I made soup, Mama. Flavietta helped me dig up the ginger root. She said it will soothe your stomach. Flavietta said you need to eat at least a little. It will warm you up and maybe you’ll feel better.”
The year was 1883 and the cholera outbreak had dire consequences throughout the territory. After caring for her husband, who didn’t survive the disease, Ester’s health failed. She smiled weakly at her daughter. “Flavietta said that, did she? Oh, Carolyn, I wish I had your vision. It’s good you remember so much about herbs. Your grandmother understood how to use them, and she taught you well.”
Carolyn reached for the sapphire pendant she’d worn since her grandmother had given it to her several years before. “Grandmother said this stone is magic.”
Ester nodded and with a weak smile, she said, “She always encouraged you, didn’t she? Her stories about the little people and the talking frogs kept us entertained for hours. I never could see the magic the way she could. But you have inherited her gift. I miss her.”
Before she could finish, a deep cough erupted and left her gasping for breath. With a trembling hand, Ester pushed the soup away. “I shall eat later. I need to sleep now.”
“Okay, Mama. I shall see you in a little while.” The eight-year-old child pulled the quilt up around her shivering mother’s shoulders and kissed her warm cheek.
When she took the heavy woolen blanket from her bed and draped it over the quilt, her mother had already fallen asleep. She brought in three logs, two for the fireplace and one for the wood stove, the only sources of heat. Although she could handle a small ax, her father had believed in preparation and Carolyn wouldn’t need to worry about fuel for a while. A hard worker before he got sick, he’d never let the log pile dwindle. He’d stacked enough wood to last for several years.
Carolyn had lived in Dancing Valley for her entire life, as had her family for generations before. Her home sat on ten acres of land in a lush California valley which had been acquired in the sixteenth century, shortly after the Spanish first arrived on the mainland of North America.
Passed down from parent to child, the original two-room cabin had been home for several generations. As years went by, the family expanded the cabin’s size, but the original structure remained.
Satisfied her home would stay as warm as she could keep it on the chilly September morning, Carolyn slipped into her jacket and headed into the valley. She wanted to talk to Flavietta.
As she walked deeper into the woods, she heard her friends singing in the distance.
Lovely grass, so tall and green
Hides us so we can’t be seen.
Fairies, pixies, elves, and gnomes
In Dancing Valley, make our homes.
The lovely water, deep and blue,
Securely screens our gold from view.
The animals and birds who roam
Also make this valley home.
But tis the guardians we trust.
They promised to protect and must.
In ancient times, some families swore
To help the fae forever more.
“Flavietta?” she called. “Are you here?”
A tiny face peeked out from behind a thin branch. “Hi, Carolyn.”
“Good day, Vianna,” Carolyn said. “Is Flavietta nearby?”
Her best friend, Vianna, had been one of the first elves Carolyn had met. But Flavietta, Empress of the Elves, had helped Carolyn gather herbs to make medicine for her mother.
“The empress has gone back to Goldfield Forest,” Vianna told her. “She departed early this morning.”
Carolyn sighed. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Perhaps I can help. Come. Sit with me over there,” the elf replied, pointing to a huge ancient tree stump. Vianna wrapped her arms around the branch. Squatting against the tree trunk, she pushed away with her legs, causing the branch to spring sideways. The motion propelled her across the path toward the stump. Giggling, she hurled her two-and-a-half-inch body off the branch and somersaulted onto the stump.
Smiling at Vianna, Carolyn sat down.
Vianna’s tiny lips turned downward. “You’re sad,” she whispered. Her antics usually got peals of laughter from the child.
“Mother is not well. Flavietta told me how to make ginger soup, but Momma only ate a sip. I’m afraid she won’t get better.”
The elf’s frown turned into a pout, and the points of her ears drooped. “I’m sorry your momma is stricken. Ginger root, cloves, and lemon juice can prevent the bacteria from taking hold. But once the disease has flourished in a body, it isn’t so easy to cure. Let’s gather nuts and seeds. They have minerals that might help to banish cholera. Besides, you need to eat more food to keep from getting sick.”
Bobbing her head in agreement, Carolyn followed Vianna deep into the valley, where they gathered walnuts and seeds from half a dozen plants. After her pockets were stuffed, Carolyn pulled the bottom of her jacket up like a sack and filled it with walnuts.
“Your fingers will turn black with walnut stain,” Vianna giggled.
Carolyn shrugged. “I can get some of the stain off with lemon juice.”
When Carolyn got home, she dumped the walnuts on the table and emptied her pockets of the seeds. After hanging her jacket on the hook, she went into the bedroom. Her mother lay under the blankets, as Carolyn had left her.
“Momma? I brought you walnuts. Will you eat some soup while I shell them?”
But Ester didn’t answer. Carolyn lifted her mother’s hand. Tears poured from her eyes as she held the lifeless fingers. Her breath came in gulps, and she sobbed, “What will I do without you?”
Carolyn didn’t know if it had been minutes or hours later when Flavietta climbed onto her knee.
“Vianna called me,” the elf said.
Empress of the Elves, Flavietta lived in Goldfield Forest, a nearby estate, where guardians of the fae had protected the little people for centuries. As one of the elders, she traveled throughout the nearby territories, visiting the residents, and helping when she could. All the guardians knew her.
Trembling with grief, Carolyn stammered, “I did everything as you said. She didn’t want to eat. I tried to keep her warm.”
“You did more than most adults could have done,” the elf told her. “Because of you, your mother stayed warm and comfortable and slept easily into the next world. She’s still here, just like your grandmother. You can’t always see her, but she will always be with you.”
“Sometimes I think I see Grandmother and she whispers to me.”
“I knew your grandmother quite well,” Flavietta said. “She is watching over you and now your mother will join her.”
“Can we have a funeral?”
“Yes, we can. In the morning, we will have a gathering and the burial. Now it is time for you to sleep.” The elf reached into her pocket and withdrew a handful of dust. “Lean closer to me.”
When Carolyn bent forward, Flavietta blew the dust into her face, and the child yawned.
“Go to bed now and sleep.”
Carolyn carefully slipped her mother’s hand under the blanket. “I love you, Momma.”
Flavietta watched until the child crawled into her bed before she called for help.
Fae of close territories, your
help I seek.
A guardian child needs our
power to keep
her here safely and teach her
our way.
She’s lost both her parents.
Still, here she must stay.
We need a funeral tomorrow
for sure.
Preparation is more than the
child can endure.
If you can build, come and
bring all your tools.
A casket we need, but we’ll
follow the rules.
Those who live in the forest and
Valley,
for this guardian child, all
must rally.
After checking to be sure Carolyn slept, the empress slipped out of the cabin, where a wolf stood waiting.
“Are you here to carry wood into the house?” Flavietta asked the wolf.
He nodded as a wood nymph glided over to the door, and Flavietta asked, “Can you open the door for the wolf?”
“I can,” the wood nymph replied. “And I shall stay with the child overnight and alert you if she needs anything.”
Flavietta’s call had reached countless fae, and they passed the word to others, as the wildlife did the same. Hundreds of little people gathered outside the cabin. Working all night, the pixies, elves and leprechauns had the casket built by morning. With help from the groundhogs, the rabbits, and the raccoons, the grave was dug.
Carolyn’s mother would be laid to rest beside her father. The turtles found a huge, smooth river stone and dug the dirt away from the edges. The water nymphs pushed the stone to the bank. Two bears used their snouts to shove the stone to the edge of the gravesite, where it would rest between her parents’ graves. A raccoon used her claws to etch their names onto the stone.
The following morning, the fae held a gathering to send Ester into the next world. They combined their abilities and floated the casket into the grave as Flavietta chanted,
Go softly, Ester. It is time to rest.
Join family members who you loved
best
All waiting for you in another realm,
Your child is safe here. She’ll stay at
the helm.
Carolyn, our guardian, will now
oversee
Dancing Valley and its residents. So
it shall be.
Carolyn rubbed her fingers across her tear-streaked face. “What will I do now?” she sniffled.
“You will stay here in Dancing Valley,” Flavietta told her. “You are a very special young lady. Did you know that?”
“No,” Carolyn replied, her tears subsiding.
“Your grandmother was a guardian, just like your dad, and, although you’re quite young to understand the responsibility that goes with it, you are a guardian, too. That’s the reason you can see us and how you can talk to some of us.”
“I tried to get Momma to see you, but said you were all in my imagination.”
“Your momma didn’t have the powers that you have. Your grandmother had them, though. Sometimes supernatural abilities skip a generation and when they do, the skipped generation often has trouble believing any of the mysticism is real. But don’t worry, sweet Carolyn. The fae will teach you what you need to learn and will work together to keep you safe. We’ll tell the guardians of Goldfield Forest and those in Laughing Hills and Rustic Acres that you’re alone now. The quarantines will soon be over, and the guardians will look in on you and give you the help you need.”
Although public schools had become available in the late nineteenth century, Carolyn had never attended. Her education, however, was comparable to that of one gained through doctorate degrees in a variety of areas. At the direction of Flavietta, Carolyn would be raised, cared for, and educated by the fae who lived in Dancing Valley and in the neighboring forests and estates.
For the rest of her life, Carolyn rarely left the valley where she lived, the sole human, among a myriad of supernatural beings.
Chapter Two
One hundred thirty-two years later.
“A century and a half is a long time for a person to live,” Carolyn told Eliza as she put a loaf of zucchini bread into the oven.
“You’re only a hundred-forty years old,” Eliza replied. “Ten more years to half a century.”
Eliza was a telecat, a supernatural feline with the power to communicate telepathically. Uncommon creatures, telecats can be of any size or any color. Eliza’s plush coat was pure white except for an oblong patch of black on her left side over her ribcage.
Magical and mystical, telecats are also loyal. For those fortunate enough to be chosen by one, they usually arrive uninvited and, if asked to stay, they never leave. Eliza had moved to Dancing Valley when Carolyn was a teenager.
Although telecats seldom live in groups, or even pairs, they are a close-knit bunch and communicate within their species, even if their homes are on different continents.
“Close enough to a century and a half by my standards,” Carolyn chuckled. “Who would believe I’ve lived this long? And I have the energy of a middle-aged woman.”
“It’s because you were raised by the fae,” Eliza explained. “Guardians live extended lives anyway, but those who are immersed in the mysticism of immortality stay in this world much longer than normal humans.”
“I’ve certainly been immersed,” Carolyn replied. “It’s been a good life, and I’ve enjoyed every day.”
Eliza rubbed her paw across the back of her ear and over her jaw. “How long until the bread is done?”
“About an hour.”
“I have time for a nap.” The cat hopped down from the kitchen chair and trotted into the living room, where she curled up on a comforter.
Carolyn followed Eliza and sat beside her. She began reading a book of herbal remedies when her old friend, Malacai, reached out to her. Dragon Master of the Amazon, Malacai oversaw fae communities worldwide.
A vision of the elegant creature filled her mind. With a head shaped like an Arabian stallion’s, Malacai’s face held no resemblance to that of a horse. Rows of sharp white teeth lined the inside of a long jaw, which gave the impression of a smile while his eyes mesmerized.
Half a dozen or more graceful horns flowed from the top of his elegantly sculpted head. Huge sapphire-colored scales, like armor, covered his thick, serpent-like neck and body. Massive wings sat high on his back, with edges that looked like five fingers joined with webbing. From his shoulders, front appendages angled sharply like an arm with an elbow, but instead of hands, claws like those of a lizard reached the ground. Despite his ferocious image, Malacai’s dazzling beauty could not be compared. He communicated telepathically, and always with a purpose.
