Shadow and Stars

Thirty-Three

The garden is nestled far out of view, and it's clear as soon as we cross the stone bridge that the staff has forgotten it. The rose bushes are nothing but thorns, weeds have taken over the flower beds, and the bird baths and fountains scattered around the area are bone dry.

"This is the saddest garden I've ever seen," Julian says, squatting down and picking up a dead tree branch, breaking it over his knee.

"It is...makes me wonder who was here last."

"Maybe Aurora...to hide the...whatever the hell it is."

"The decanter."

"I don't even know where to start. There's so much dead vegetation here; it seems like something like that could be hidden anywhere," he says, crunching through the weeds.

"Just start looking, I guess...remember, loolo means star and represents the sun. Maybe look for something that points to that?" I suggest as we split off to cover more ground.

We are silent for a long while as we dig around in weeds, underneath dead shrubbery, and turn over rocks. But we find nothing, and I am about to tell Julian I'm giving up for the night when he calls my name.

I run over to where he stands in front of one of the stone fountains that is now full of nothing but dried leaves and cobwebs. "What is it?"

"Look," he drops to his knees and runs his finger over the ornamentation carved on the front, "it's a sun."

I squat next to him and look closer. It is a symbol I ran across many times in my research: sun in splendor, with a face and twelve alternating straight and wavy "rays."

"This is it, right? It has to be right here," Julian says, pawing at the area around the fountain.

I nod and we start to dig.

Ten minutes later, we have dug shallow holes all around the fountain and have found nothing but overturned soil.

"What the hell?" Julian sighs, falling back on his butt and propping his arms on his knees.

"I don't know. We've looked everywhere...there's nothing here," I say, shoving the fountain as I use it as leverage to stand.

The fountain shifts and Julian's eyes snap to me. "Cam."

I don't take my eyes off the fountain as I reply, "Julian."

"Do the thing," he says, and I can hear the grin in his voice.

"What if it destroys the decanter?"

"It won't. She wouldn't tell you to burn her in something that could just be busted. Come on; do it."

I take a deep breath and channel the frustration I've felt over the past few days, especially at the strain on my relationship with my father. Straightening my arms, I spread out my palms and force the power from my fingertips.

The fountain shatters, leaving nothing but a pile of rubble at our feet.

"Oh shit," Julian says, and I close my eyes. There's nothing here but rock.

"Damnit," I whisper, but Julian puts his hand on my forearm.

"Wait. Look," he says, pointing at a large, cracked rock. "Look in there..."

At first, all I see is more rock, but as I lean closer, I realize what's inside the rock isn't stone at all. It's an aged, dull gray metal, a familiar symbol etched on the front.

A lead decanter.

"This is it." I hold my breath as I wedge my fingers into the fissure, dislodging the bottle from the rock. It's dense, heavier in my palm than I expected. I run my fingers over the carving of the sun in splendor, my heart racing in my chest.