The Last Gatekeeper: The Fairy Tunnels Series, #2

By Elena Jagar

From the Award-Winning Author of THE RAINBOW WEAVER'S APPRENTICE:

 

"Our family is not like everyone else, Maia.

People wouldn't believe us if they knew who we really are."

 

Spending the summer in a spooky mansion with her mean aunt isn't Maia's idea of fun. Especially when strange and dangerous incidents follow her from day one.

 

Something eerie is happening in this small town: a giant hound with glowing eyes stalks her, and a ghost girl shows up to warn her of danger. When Maia stumbles into a Fairy Tunnel and narrowly escapes becoming prisoner of the Fairies, she learns the townspeople are in grave danger and uncovering her family's secret past is key to saving them.

 

Allies come forth to help with her quest, but can she trust her new friends when she suspects none of them are what they appear?

 

The Last Gatekeeper is a fantasy book for kids ages 9-12. It is book two in The Fairy Tunnels series and can be read as a standalone novel. Filled with magic and adventure, it will delight middle-grade readers at every turn of the page.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Willow Wren Books
• Release date: Oct 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215176504

Elena Jagar

Elena is the award-winning author of THE RAINBOW WEAVER'S APPRENTICE, book I in the Fairy Tunnels fantasy series for middle-grade readers.  Elena's writing spans several genres, and she believes that a good story is made up first and foremost of great characters, ones that are relatable and interesting enough to stay with the reader long after the book is closed. She hopes her young readers come away from her books feeling that nothing is impossible. When not writing, Elena enjoys horseback riding, tai chi, smelling the flowers, and petting bumblebees. Currently living overseas teaching English, Elena looks forward to having a garden and a menagerie of pets when she finally settles down in one place. Visit www.willowwrenbooks.com to get a free story and stay updated about Elena's writing.

Book preview

Chapter 1

A Shadow in the Window

Twelve Poplars mansion stood at the top of a hill overlooking the town of Grunewald and owed its name to the alley of ancient poplars that led to the gates. Beyond the gateposts, a long gravel driveway hugged the wide lawn, which must’ve been pretty in the daylight. Unfortunately, it was well after midnight when the car dropped Maia off, and the nighttime darkness hid everything but the outlines from view.

The driver had taken a wrong turn and blundered for hours down the twisty country roads before finding his way again. If his mistake caused him any embarrassment, he didn’t let it show. He waved a cheery bye as he drove off, leaving Maia alone in the driveway.

As his car trundled downhill, Maia turned to stare at Twelve Poplars. It towered over her in the moonlight, dark windows like sightless eyes in a giant’s face. It looked nothing like the inviting pictures her dad had painted.

No one came out of the front door to greet her.

Maybe her aunt got tired of waiting and went to sleep.

Maia left her rucksack and duffel bag in the driveway and trudged to the front door. She gave it a loud knock. The sound echoed through the empty grounds and died. What if they all left?

Her dad said she’d love spending the summer at her aunt’s, that there was so much to do in Grunewald. But how could it be better than home?

A night breeze swept over the grassy lawn and started a low murmur in the leaves. Maia shifted from foot to foot, shivering in her thin shirt. If only she had her piano with her! Playing always made her feel better when she was upset.

Her fingers drummed a melody she liked to play, drumming being the next best thing to playing. It gave her some calm, but only a little.

What she wouldn’t give to be home again!

Portview was at least twice the size of Grunewald and had a harbor with ships coming in from all sorts of exciting places. Summers burst with colorful street fairs and open-air cafés, and on every corner, vendors sold delicious cakes and ice cream, things she could hardly expect to find in this small town.

Why did her parents send her away? They were worried about something, but all they said was they had to go on a trip, and she couldn’t come along.

Derek, her older brother, was even worse, making fun of her and spinning tales.

Our family isn’t like everyone else, Maia. Most people wouldn’t believe it if we told them who we really are.

What he said next was so fantastical it made her angry. He was always making things up and treating her like a baby. But this latest was too much, even for him.

And then he said she wasn’t brave enough for what he and their parents would be doing that summer. Maia kicked a stone with the toe of her foot.

Not brave enough! She would show him. She would show them all how brave she could be.

Maia gave the front door a louder knock, then picked up a pebble and threw it at one of the lower windows. She waited. All remained silent, empty—

—except for the window on the top floor.

Someone was up there, a darker shadow against the dark, watching her.

With a gasp, Maia pressed against the front door, out of sight of the watcher. Then she took a deep breath and stepped into the driveway again.

Be brave, remember?

She peered at the window, but now it looked as empty as the others. In the silence, only the wind rustled the leaves.

Maia was about to try her luck with another pebble when the front door opened, pouring light onto the driveway. A grey-haired woman in an old housecoat waved her in.

Well, come on in. No sense shivering out there in the chill. I’m Imelda, the cook.

Relieved, Maia moved toward the door. The sound of clicking heels echoed, and Aunt Augusta appeared next to Imelda, looking grand in a silk blue robe, high-heeled slippers, and her polished blond hair gleaming in the light. But her mouth formed a thin line, and her dark eyes narrowed in disapproval.

Maia’s heart sank. Her aunt didn’t seem happy to see her.   

Chapter 2

A Party Invitation

Y ou’re late. I expected you hours ago.

Sorry. Maia took a reluctant step forward. It’s nice to see you again, Aunt Augusta.

Augusta gave her a critical once-over and her mouth twisted. You were better groomed the last time I saw you. Your parents must be letting you run wild down there in Portview. Can’t say I approve of that short haircut. It’s inelegant and unladylike. Not to mention the way you’re dressed.

She spun on her heels, indicating with her chin that Maia should follow her. 

Unladylike? Maia frowned at her clothes. The shoes were a bit worn, but the pants were still new and the shirt didn’t have a single stain on it. Dad always said Augusta was eccentric. If that meant she was as pleasant as a nettle sting, Maia was ready to agree.

Imelda winked at her behind Augusta’s back. Ignore her when she’s like that, she whispered. Come on in.

Maia shuffled through the doorway, dragging her bags.

The entrance hall was two stories high and its polished stone floor reflected the light of a huge chandelier. Ornate chairs and jeweled vases with flowers stood along the walls, flanking heavy-looking doors, the closest of which was ajar and revealed a long, carpeted corridor behind it.

Maia gaped at all the rich splendor. Did it really belong to her family? Seeing it almost made her believe what her brother said was true.

Finally made it, huh?

She jumped at the sight of Aunt Augusta’s stepson coming down the marble stairway.

Aunt Augusta halted. You do remember Colin, I believe? My brother’s letter mentioned you were excited to see him.

Maia stifled a groan. Why did her aunt have to say that in front of Colin? So embarrassing.

Sure, she and Colin were inseparable the summer he stayed with her family, but that was three years ago. He was a year older than her and had grown a lot since the last time she saw him. What if he thought she was just a kid and didn’t want to be friends with her anymore?

Colin gave her an easy grin as he sprinted down the stairs. He had very blue eyes, bright and clear.

I remember you too. That summer in Portview was great, wasn’t it? Too bad it’s been so long.

Maia smiled, encouraged by his friendliness. Are you staying here all summer? Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to be alone with her aunt.

Probably. Unless Father wants me back.

Augusta fixed him with a glare. You’ll not speak of that man in my house. Do you understand?

Colin shrugged.

Good. Then take care of our guest. I’m going to bed. She clicked her heels across the floor toward the arched doorway in the far corner.

She and Father are fighting again, Colin said when she was out of earshot.

Maia nodded sympathetically. Do they fight a lot?

Not Father, he’s pretty easygoing. But Augusta has a lot of rules. Like with dinnertime—she wants everyone cleaned up and at the table by five minutes to seven. If anyone’s late, she gets ballistic. And Father was late twice last month.

Maia gaped at him in disbelief. Aunt Augusta left him because of that?

Well, the first time she forgave him, after a week. The second time he came back from a fishing trip and forgot to change out of his muddy boots. Augusta didn’t even let him apologize, just grabbed me by the hand, towed me out to the car, and hightailed it over here.

Poor Uncle Alastair.

Poor, or lucky? He’s not the one who’s stuck with her now. A corner of his mouth lifted. By the way, I was looking forward to seeing you too. 

Maia grinned. She was starting to feel more comfortable with this older version of Colin.

Hungry? he asked. Imelda saved you some supper.

He led her through the closest doorway and down the carpeted corridor to a huge dining room where, at one end of a long table, Imelda had laid out platters of food.

We were expecting you rather earlier, she said. This is all that’s left from dinner.

Looks good to me! Colin pulled out a chair for Maia and another for himself.

Imelda huffed. You already had four helpings tonight.

That was hours ago. He glanced at Maia. Imelda’s cooking is the best thing about this place. Trust me.

Maia took a bite of roast beef. It was delicious. So were the mashed potatoes and grilled vegetables. And she hadn’t eaten for hours. She fell on her food and only looked up again after picking up every last crumb. 

Colin hadn’t wasted time, either. From the diminished amount of food on the platter, he’d had at least three helpings while she finished hers.

Want to see your room? he asked. Let’s go.

Once back in the entrance hall, he turned to her with a devious grin.

Race you to the top.

Before she knew it, he flew up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

Maia caught up with him on the landing, out of breath. You didn’t say ready. Cheater!

But she couldn’t help grinning. Colin might be older, but he didn’t act like he was too old to be friends with her.

Maia looked around. The spacious landing had an alcove in the back with a statue of a tall woman in a long dress and a wreath of green stones in her hair. She held her hands cupped one over the other as if holding something precious.

That’s your ancestor, Colin said. Her husband built this mansion centuries ago when they founded Grunewald. With a jerk of the head indicating Maia should follow, he headed down the hallway.

You stay here a lot? Maia asked, catching up to him.

Every summer since Mother died and Father married Augusta. Colin stopped in front of the door at the end of the hallway. This is your room. Mine’s at the other end.

Maia counted six doors between their rooms.

Who’s in the other ones? she asked.

No one. Augusta and the servants live on the ground floor.

They had a whole floor to themselves? This would take getting used to.

Does it get spooky?

She immediately regretted the words. Being scared of the dark was for little kids.

Colin smiled. This isn’t a haunted mansion. Great thing is, Augusta never comes up here.

He opened the door and stood aside for her. Maia stared at her new room. It was hexagonal and twice the size of her bedroom back home, and the furniture was the kind she’d only seen in a museum before. And it was... very green.

Green carpet covered every inch of the floor, and a green velvet curtain hid the four-poster bed. The walls were painted with whimsical creatures fluttering and scurrying among entwined branches on a moss-green background. It felt like wandering into some fantastical, fairytale forest.

Maia turned to Colin with raised eyebrows.

He laughed and flopped into a green armchair. Don’t look at me, I didn’t decorate it. Every room here is different. Mine’s blue. Augusta says it’s always been like this. Then he added, looking more series. Augusta isn’t fun to be around, but give Grunewald a chance. I know there are things you’ll like about it.

Like what?

He reached into his pocket and handed her a large envelope folded in half. The address read:

Maia Quinn, Twelve Poplars Mansion, Grunewald.

A letter, addressed to her?

Maia tore open the envelope and read: Miss Maia Quinn is invited to the Start of the Summer Party which will take place on May 1st at Oaks Meadow. Arrive at sunset. Dress formal. Yours, Mr. Ashe, of Catriona Ashe’s Chocolate Shop.

Maia frowned. May first. That’s the day after tomorrow.

I know. The anticipation is killing me.

He was missing the point. How did this Mr. Ashe know I was coming before I even arrived? Did Aunt Augusta tell him?

Colin shrugged. Maybe. But at least now you can’t complain Grunewald is boring.

I never said it was.

But you were thinking it, right?

Before Maia could answer, the door opened and an old man shuffled in, grunting as he pulled her rucksack and duffel bag along.

Left it downstairs for me, did you? Like I’ve got no better things to do around here.

Maia stared at him.

This is Warwick, the butler, Colin said, getting up to take the bags from the man. Thanks, Warwick. You can go now.

The butler glared at him before shuffling out again.

Colin yawned. I’m off to bed. See you in the morning.

Once the door closed behind him, Maia put the invitation on the green writing desk and changed into the pajamas her mom had packed into the duffel bag. Then she switched off the light and climbed into bed.

In the moonlight from the open window, the painted leaves on the walls seemed to tremble and dance, as if unsettled by a gust of wind. It made her think of Derek and what he said about their family.

We call ourselves Gatekeepers, Maia. We guard the entrance to the fairy realm.

How silly did he think she was? Everyone knew fairies were nothing more than bedtime stories for little kids. She was eleven now, too old to believe in fairies.

You’re saying we have magical powers? she’d asked.

Derek kept a straight face, expert at making any tall tale sound convincing. No, we don’t. We just make sure the entrance to the fairy realm stays closed, so that fairies don’t come through and make trouble. And now Mom and Dad are going on a journey to save a fellow Gatekeeper who’s in trouble.

Because the fairies got him? Maia tried and failed to match his seriousness. Then why didn’t Mom and Dad say anything about it?

For the same reason they’re not taking you on the trip. You’re too young. You can’t handle the danger.

This was a low blow. Maia almost burst into tears. But crying would only prove her brother right, so she managed a defiant look instead.

Of course I can handle danger! I can be brave!

Derek just laughed. You don’t even like heights. What do you think you’ll do if something bad happens? Get scared and run away, that’s what. Or worse, you’ll get into trouble, and we’ll have to rescue you.

Maia knew better than to argue with Derek. He always won in the end.

But she made a silent promise that night. She wouldn’t waste her summer at Twelve Poplars. No. She’d take every chance she got to do brave things and prove her family wrong. The next time they went on a trip, she’d be coming along. 

But she wasn’t going to fall for Derek’s lies. She glared at the dancing leaves. Whoever built Twelve Poplars must’ve had Derek’s knack for telling tales. Just being here made you want to believe all kinds of fantastical things. If she was going to prove she was old enough, she’d have to be careful not to fall for it.

Maia jumped down from the bed and went to close the curtains. Only now did she notice that the view from the window was partially obstructed by a large beech tree, as tall as the mansion. One of its branches was pressing into the wall just below the ledge as if trying to push it away.

Maia perched on the windowsill and craned her neck out. Beyond the stone wall surrounding the grounds, a steep hillside descended toward the lake. In the center of the lake, a small island rose out of the water. Islands were fun to explore. Sometimes, they were even dangerous. Maybe it would be one of those brave things she and Colin could do this summer. She’d have to remember to ask him.

Maia was about to go back to bed when something else caught her sight and froze her in place: two phosphorescent eyes, gleaming at her from the trees beyond the stone wall.

W-who’s there? Maia whispered. 

The eyes blinked. The trees rustled and a large animal, shaped like a dog or a wolf, but larger—much too large to be either—leaped silently into the thicket.

Trembling, Maia shut the window and scurried to switch the lights back on, then burrowed under the blanket, pulling it up to her chin.

What other eerie surprises did Grunewald have in store for her?

She lay awake for a long time, watching the closed window and listening for strange sounds. Eventually, exhausted, she fell into an uneasy sleep. 

Chapter 3

A New Dress

Maia awoke with the first light of dawn and lay in bed, wondering at the events of the previous night. 

Had she imagined seeing a shadow in the window and glowing eyes in the dark? And the paintings on the walls? Thinking they might come to life. Maia grinned. In the light of day, her surroundings still looked strange, but far from supernatural. 

Still smiling, she climbed out of bed, got dressed, and headed down to the entrance hall. It was time to start proving her bravery, and step one would be to explore the mansion.

She started with the hallway closest to the stairs, but the first room she looked into turned out to be a broom closet. Next one was a tiny pantry, and the one after that, a sitting room. Maia wrinkled her nose. If the rest of downstairs was this boring, she might as well go back to bed.

Just in case, she tried one more door before giving up—

—and was rewarded with a round-shaped room with a stained-glass window depicting a night forest. Tinged with green, morning light streamed through it onto a mosaic floor, dimly illuminating a collection of musical instruments under a thick layer of dust.

Now, this was something.

The piano must’ve belonged to her dad. He loved to play and started teaching her as soon as she was old enough to reach the keyboard. He’d tried it with her brother too, but Derek ended up preferring the cello. (Their mom didn’t play any instruments but encouraged them to persevere with it and often organized informal concerts in their home, inviting friends and neighbors.)

Music. It united the Quinn family like needle and thread, patching up the wear and tear in the fabric of their daily life. But the piano remained a special bond between her and Dad.

Maia walked over to the instrument and opened the keyboard cover. Her finger tracing over the keys left a trail in the dust. Bending, she blew on the keyboard and tiny particles flurried in the air, sparkling green in the light from the stained-glass window.

There was no chair in the room, but that was fine. No one was around to hear her anyway. She played a cheerful melody she’d been practicing before she left home. Not surprisingly, the piano sounded like it hadn’t been touched in ages. The rest of the instruments appeared to be in no better shape. But even they looked brighter and livelier while she played, as if joining in