Sebastian

from Nadia's personal gardens. Near the front of the bed was a large piece of slate. She'd always intended to use the slate as a foundation for some kind of decorative ornament, but she'd never found anything that felt right.

    Going down on her knees, she set the statue on the slate, turning it this way and that until she had it positioned exactly the way she wanted it. Then, with her hands resting on the statue, she called to Ephemera and altered the landscapes, breaking some bonds and forming others, rearranging the pieces and shaping new borders and boundaries.
    The sun was low in the sky when she finally sat back.
    Some strange pairings. Some unexpected borders. She didn't always know why two seemingly different landscapes resonated with each other, but she didn't doubt what she'd done.
    Getting to her feet, she took a deep breath, then clamped a hand over her mouth when the exhalation came out as a sob. No. She couldn't waver. This next task made her sick at heart, but she couldn't waver.
    Clenching her fists, she strode deep into her gardens to an odd little bed that sat alone and contained nothing but one heart's hope plant and a brick.
    She rested her fingers on the brick and felt the Dark nibbling around the edges of this small landscape.
    The Eater didn't recognize what this was or why the Dark currents didn't quite resonate with the Dark in the rest of the city, but given enough time, It would.
    Pulling the piece of towel off her shoulder, she spread it on the ground in front of the bed, then picked up the brick and wrapped it in the towel.
    Racing to finish this task before the sun set, she picked up the wrapped brick and ran to the sheltered horseshoe of rock where she kept the boat the River Guardians had made for her. Theirs were the only boats that could survive this part of the river.
    Getting into the boat, she sat on the front seat, the wrapped brick in her lap, and emptied her mind of everything but the boat and the river.
    The boat had no oars, no sails, no tiller. The will and the heart supplied those things.
    Slowly, smoothly, the boat slipped out of the horseshoe of calm water into the churning power of the river. It cut across some currents, followed others, balanced and driven by the task of the person it held.
    At the edge of that tangle of currents, she willed the boat to stop. Immediately a circle of calm water spread out around it.
    Picking up the brick with both hands, she held it over the water.
    It had been a foolish thing to do, decided in a moment of youthful anger and seasoned by the need to answer a need.
    Opportunities and choices. A bitter farmer who still had a seed of kindness in him. She'd fed that seed a glimmer of Light, a ray of hope. He'd taken that glimmer back to a place in the city that was full of dark emotions and had sparked another glimmer. And another. And another. Kindness fed on kindness, and the Light grew. A few months later, when the resonance of that little piece of the city called to her, she'd crossed over and taken the brick to be her access point so she could continue to guide the currents of Light. She'd gone back a few times over the years to keep the resonance of that small landscape balanced, gambling that she wouldn't run into Sebastian's father, who was the only wizard who might recognize her.
    Now…

    She had to let them go—those people, that beacon of Light. Having a landscape within the walls of Wizard City had always been risky. Now it could endanger all the landscapes in her care. It could be the chink in the wall that gave the Eater of the World a chance to attack the stronghold of Light.
    Her hands shook as she lowered the wrapped brick into the water.
    "I'm sorry," she whispered. Tears ran down her face. "I'm sorry."
    Why ? something whispered. Why give them up? You worked so hard to help them. Don't you want to help them ?
    Of course she wanted to help those people.
    Then let them stay protected. Let them stay in the garden.
    She felt it then—a Dark current that didn't resonate with her. A malice behind the words assuring her she didn't need to do this.
    With a cry of anguish, she let go of the brick.
    It sank fast, but the river's currents cleansed it of all trace of her before it reached the bottom.
    She huddled in the boat for a while, scared to the point of feeling sick.
    She'd almost wavered. Even knowing that little landscape could be a danger to all her other landscapes, she'd almost wavered. Because something had gotten in