Enchantment Read online

And that was the problem. Her folks really wanted her to go to college. She wanted to stay in Las Palomas.

  There was a satellite campus of the University of New Mexico in town, but its offerings were pretty limited. She should check into it, though.

  Mom asked Dad about his work day, giving Holly a break for which she shot her mother a grateful smile. If Mom noticed, she didn’t show it. Holly finished her meal and waited until the others were done, then offered to clear plates.

  “Not in a hurry, are you?” said Dad as she stood up.

  “Well—there’s pineapple upside down cake.”

  That made Mom smile, as Holly had intended. When they all had cake in front of them, she took out the glass pendant and presented it to Mom.

  “Mad and I picked it out.”

  “Oh, it’s beautiful!”

  She put it on, and Holly saw her father quietly beaming. Chalk up more brownie points. She’d earned enough that after she’d finished her dessert, she decided to take a risk.

  “Think I’ll go out for a bike ride. I didn’t get much exercise the last few days.”

  “Do you want company?” said Dad.

  Damn.

  She played it cool, shrugging. “If you want. I was just going to ride around the loop.” With a stop at Enchantment Springs Trail.

  “OK, well, don’t stay out too long after dark.”

  “I won’t.”

  Holly got up, kissed both her parents, and left her dessert plate in the kitchen sink as she headed for the garage. The street lights were coming on as she pedaled down the street to the big loop of Mountain Way that defined the neighborhood. The trailhead was at the top of the loop. Holly turned right and pumped up the hill as fast as she could.

  Technically, the trail was closed after 6:00 p.m. Holly left her bike in the rack and strode up the hill, wishing she’d grabbed her fanny pack, which had a little flashlight in it.

  Oh, well. She’d just have to be careful. There weren’t many obstacles, just a couple of rocks to step around, and she pretty much knew where they were.

  Her eyes began to adjust to the dim light beneath the trees. Between the branches the sky glowed a deep turquoise. It was a magical time, between day and night. Fairy-time, she’d called it when she was a kid.

  Her heart was pumping hard, and her skin began to tingle as she got closer to the spring. She hadn’t seen or heard anyone else on the trail, but she heard a massive chittering of birds ahead, and slowed as she reached the edge of the glen.

  Birds all over the concrete box, fluttering and quarrelling. She moved closer slowly, one tiny step at a time. One of them must have noticed her because suddenly they all flew up into the air, chirping in alarm. One little goldfinch fluttered back down to perch on the edge of the coffin.

  “Hello there,” Holly said, smiling.

  The bird swelled and grew, and turned into Ohlan. He returned her smile.

  “You came back.”

  A thrill of delight smacked her right in the chest. She felt her cheeks heating up. She took a step toward him.

  “I’m sorry it wasn’t sooner. My folks wanted me to go up to Boulder with my sister.”

  “Boulder?”

  “Yeah. She’s going to college up there.”

  “Ah. I hope you enjoyed the journey.”

  “I would rather have been here.”

  Ohlan’s smile widened and he reached for her hand. “Thank you.”

  “I—I missed you.” Holly felt breathless, holding hands with him, like she was standing at the edge of a cliff. “I met a water spirit. At the lake near my sister’s place.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You did?”

  “I asked her if there was some way to help you—you know, be stronger. She didn’t know.”

  “It was kind of you to ask.”

  “I want to help you.”

  She wanted it more fiercely than she could tell him, especially if the lake spirit’s guess was right. She swallowed.

  “I read a book by someone who used to live here. Do you remember Amanda?”

  “Amanda?” Ohlan looked surprised, and gazed into the woods for a moment. The soft smile on his lips tore at Holly’s heart. “Yes, I remember Amanda. I have not seen her in a long while.”

  “She’s dead,” Holly said bluntly, then felt sorry. She didn’t want to hurt Ohlan.

  He didn’t seem upset, though. He was still smiling.

  “Did she … come up here a lot?” Holly asked.

  “Yes. For a few years.”

  So, yeah. They’d been lovers. Holly wanted to ask him outright to confirm it, but she chickened out.

  “Things were different then,” Ohlan said.

  “Yeah, they hadn’t built this, right?” Holly knocked her knuckles on the edge of the coffin.

  “No. Amanda left after they built it.”

  His smile faded, and Holly felt a pang of pity. Must not be fun, having people come and go. It was kind of surprising that he still seemed to care so much about the people who came to the spring, but then maybe he had the same philosophy as the lake spirit: enjoy them while they’re here.

  “She got married and had children,” Holly added.

  “Ah, yes. She wanted children.”

  Holly tilted her head. “Could you and she have had children?”

  Ohlan met her gaze, then shook his head. “This body is an illusion. It has no—what is the term—genetic substance.”

  “Oh! No DNA. No, um … fertility.”

  “That’s right.”

  “It’s a pretty convincing illusion, even so.” Holly looked at him sidelong. “You could appear as a woman if you wanted to, couldn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why this form, then?”

  The smile returned. “I wanted to please you.”

  Holly glanced down at their hands, blushing furiously. Ohlan’s fingers squeezed hers.

  “I haven’t had any human friends since Amanda left.”

  A tingle shot up her arm and into the top of her head. She was having trouble breathing. She looked up at Ohlan, and he leaned toward her.

  Ever so slowly, he brushed his lips against hers. Small explosions of pleasure fired off all through her.

  Oh, yes. This was nothing like the kisses she’d had before.

  She leaned her forehead against his shoulder. He let go of her hand, only to slide his arm around her, and she snuggled against him and sighed. It was wonderful, sitting with him. Even though she knew it was an illusion, he felt warm, smelled great. He was comfortable.

  The body might be an illusion, but the love was real.

  “Why do you like humans?” she asked. “I mean, you can take the form of any creature, right? So why are humans special? Or are they?”

  “Oh, yes. Your souls are so brilliant. More than any other creature.”

  “More than other spirits?”

  Ohlan leaned his cheek against her temple. “Spirits are different. They exist at a higher—I believe you would say ’frequency.’ Lighter, less powerful in some ways, at least in this world. Human will is an amazing force.”

  It was nice to hear she was amazing. She would be happy to spend the night here, in his arms.

  That thought startled her into opening her eyes. The forest was dim; the sky she could see through the tree branches had lost its evening glow.

  “I have to get home soon or my parents will freak.” She sighed as she sat up, not wanting to leave. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

  “Let me walk you to the street.”

  She smiled, though this made her wonder if he had done the same for Amanda. He kept his arm around her as they started down the trail. A few paces along, Ohlan suddenly stopped, and Holly nearly tripped.

  “I-I’m sorry.”

  His face was dismayed, strained. Holly gave a small grunt of surprise as he leaned on her heavily.

  “You can’t leave the spring!”

  “I forgot.”

  “Can you turn to a bird and fly
back? Would that be easier?”

  He shook his head. “Takes energy.”

  She supported him back to the concrete coffin. Illusion or no, he sure felt like a hundred-odd pounds of human.

  By the time they reached the spring he was stumbling. He tumbled headfirst into the water, scaring her though she knew he’d be fine. A moment later he surfaced, looking much better.

  “Thank you. I am sorry—“

  “Don’t be. We’ll figure this out. I’ll do some research.”

  “You are so good to care.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m crazy about you, Ohlan, just in case you hadn’t figured that out.”

  He smiled and reached up to caress her cheek. She closed her eyes, drinking in his touch.

  “I really should go.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Yeah.”

  Reluctantly, she backed away, still gazing at him. She realized she could see him perfectly well despite the darkness. He had the same kind of pearly glow as the lake spirit.

  So gorgeous.

  “See you tomorrow.”

  She made herself turn away and start down the trail, walking as fast as she dared in the dim light. The back of her neck prickled with remembered fear from her brush with punk kids at the lake, but there was no one else on the trail now. When she could see the glow of street lights ahead, she dared to jog the rest of the way to the trailhead.

  On her bike, pedaling for home, she felt safer. The street lights made pools of warmth on the pavement. A couple of familiar cars cruised past. She reached her street and sped for home.

  Dad met her in the garage. “I was about to come looking.”

  Holly looked up from stashing her bike. “Sorry. It’s so beautiful out.”

  He put an arm around her shoulder as they went into the house. “Don’t scare me, OK? Your old man can’t take it.”

  “’Kay.”

  She thought about how he’d take hearing that she was hanging out with Ohlan, and concluded she couldn’t ever tell him. He wouldn’t like anything about it. She’d just have to keep her home life and her life at the spring separate.

  ~ 8 ~

  Holly left the house early the next morning, right after she’d done her chores. She fixed herself lunch, quietly making a second sandwich and adding a half-dozen cookies to her pack. With a cheery smile she told her mom she was going to the library, then biked straight up to the spring.

  Ohlan was there. So were a troop of cub scouts. Holly hung back on the trail, listening to the scout leader talk about how springs were formed and answer the kids’ questions.

  As she watched, she realized that none of them saw Ohlan, though he was right there, sitting on the edge of the concrete coffin, smiling as he watched them. She took a step toward him and he looked at her. She raised an eyebrow, nodding toward the scouts. Ohlan just smiled and shrugged.

  “Most people don’t see me, because they don’t bother to look.”

  She glanced at the scouts, but they hadn’t heard Ohlan, either. One of the boys raised his hand.

  “How come the spring is in a box?”

  The scout leader, a sandy-haired guy with glasses, walked over to the box and put a hand on it, just a foot away from Ohlan. “That’s a good question. The Conservation Corps built this container in the 1940’s to control the water. They constructed the trail at the same time. Before then it was just an animal track through the woods, and the spring spilled across it, causing erosion problems.”

  Holly felt a spark of excitement. She could research that, and maybe find out something that would help Ohlan. There should be information in the library about the construction of the box, if it was a government project.

  The scouts moved on after a few more minutes, heading up the trail toward the raspberry patches. Holly joined Ohlan and took out the lunch she’d made.

  “Brought you a sandwich.”

  “Thank you.” Ohlan smiled as he accepted it and took a bite.

  Holly watched him savor it, hoping that the food might help him somehow. She wasn’t sure if it would, since his body was just an illusion, but figured anything was worth a try. Ohlan’s apparent enjoyment of the food had to mean something.

  He’d enjoyed holding her, too—at least she thought he had. Maybe the illusion worked for him, too.

  “So, tell me more about you,” she said.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “What other friends have you had, besides me and Amanda?”

  “Human friends? Before Amanda there was a man who came up here a few times. A teacher at the school. He was a poet.”

  Maybe he was the one Amanda mentioned in her book, who told her about the spring. Holly looked sidelong at Ohlan, wondering if he’d taken a different form for that visitor. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  Ohlan chewed another bite of sandwich, gazing at the treetops. “And before the school, there was a village in the same place. That was quite a while ago.”

  Holly nodded, thinking of the pueblo ruins. “Did those people come up here a lot?”

  “Not a lot, but yes. I believe they considered the water sacred.”

  “Makes sense.”

  Holly took a bite of her sandwich and watched Ohlan finish the last of his. She couldn’t tell if it had helped make him any stronger. Maybe it was too soon. She dug the cookies out of her pack and handed him one.

  “What about before the village?”

  Ohlan shook his head. “Not many people came before then. Once in a while a hunter or a family would stop here, but I never saw any of them more than once.”

  “Were you lonely?”

  Ohlan grinned. “No, because I didn’t know what I was missing. I didn’t find out how wonderful humans are until the villagers started coming. But I had plenty of animal friends, and other spirits all over the mountains.”

  “Water spirits?”

  “And other kinds. They are good friends, but nowhere near as intense as humans.” He held up his half-eaten cookie. “Humans are like this—a delicious treat that makes you want more when it’s gone.”

  Holly smiled, though the thought made her slightly sad, reminding her of how fleeting Ohlan must consider his human friendships. Perhaps that was why he wasn’t exactly heartbroken over Amanda, even though he obviously missed her.

  He wouldn’t be heartbroken over Holly, either, whenever she died. Kind of depressing.

  She finished her sandwich, reminding herself of what the lake spirit had said: enjoy them while they’re here.

  “I wish you could introduce me to your other spirit friends. Do they come here to visit you?”

  “Yes.” Ohlan frowned. “I have not seen any of them lately.”

  “If I went to their homes, would I be able to see them?”

  “Perhaps. You know how to look.”

  Holly took out the bag of cookies, offered it to Ohlan and took one herself, then and set the bag on the edge of the coffin between them. “So, where’s the nearest one?”

  “Ilassa is the nearest. Another water spirit, who lives at the head of a stream on that mountain.” Ohlan pointed to the northwest.

  “Um. Do you know what my people call the stream?”

  “Palomas Creek.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard of that! I’ve been there—there’s a campground the creek runs through. Don’t suppose I could meet Ilassa there?”

  Ohlan shrugged. “You could try, but the head of the creek is a more likely place.”

  “OK.”

  She’d have to get hold of a map and figure out where that was. Between that and wanting to learn about the construction of the coffin, she was starting to be anxious to get to the library. She ate one more cookie, then stood.

  “I’m going to hunt down some information. See you tomorrow?”

  He smiled with delight. “That would be wonderful.”

  Holly couldn’t help smiling back. “Are you ever in a bad mood?”

  He looked thoughtful, as if giving the questio
n serious consideration. “Sometimes I’m a little lonely.”

  “What about angry?”

  “Only when someone mistreats my friends.”

  She leaned closer and brushed her lips against his cheek. He smelled so good—like sunshine and water and salt, but without the fishiness of the ocean. Swallowing, she stepped back.

  “Anything you’d like me to bring?”

  Ohlan picked up the cookie bag. “More?”

  “You got it. And you can have the rest of those.”

  “Thank you.”

  She turned to wave at him from the edge of the glen, smiling as he sat there munching cookies, then hummed her way down to her bike. Some good possibilities here. She looked forward to finding out more about the construction and about Ohlan’s friend Illassa.

  With a start, she realized she’d forgotten to ask if Illassa was male or female. Well, the answer was probably “yes.”

  Grinning, she hopped on her bike. She could head for the library, or up to the northwest edge of town where the Palomas Creek Campground was. It was early enough that she figured she had time to do both, so she turned toward the campground first. Might as well give it a try; if she could contact Illassa at the campground it would save her a hike up the mountain.

  The ride took her through a pretty part of town, with lots of ponderosa pines along the streets. The streets crossed the foothills of the mountains just before they turned into mesas that stretched eastward toward the plateau. Purple asters were blooming everywhere, and the breeze that played through her hair had just a hint of crispness.

  The campground was quiet, but not empty. Three of the ten camping spaces were occupied, though the tents and campers were closed up and nobody was around. Probably their owners were up hiking the mountain. Holly took note of the license plates—two out of state and one rental car—then rode up to the trailhead at the top of the campground.

  She’d never hiked up here. Camped, with friends, but never gone up the trail. A poster-sized map hung on a board under a small shelter, with a ledger you were supposed to sign if you went hiking and paper trail guides, some of which had been recycled often enough they were getting tattered.

  Holly gazed at the map. The trail to the headwaters of the creek was seven and a half miles, with a vertical rise of 1420 feet. Not exactly easy.