Secret Keeper (My Myth Trilogy - Book 2): Young Adult Fantasy Novel

by Jane Alvey Harris

  I nod and smile at both of them as I pull Kaillen’s sweatshirt back on and zip it up to my chin. The little fire is dancing in the pit, but the wind has grown chill teeth.

  “You aren’t like, kosher, or anything are you?” Reece jokes, pulling a package of hot dogs out of the cooler and waggling them at me. “Because these definitely aren’t.”

  “Um, no. I eat normal hot dogs.” It occurs to me that Reece is probably just a socially awkward wannabe. Like me. That he’s not some rapey dude. It doesn’t make what he did to me any more acceptable; but it does help me accept his apology. He seems genuine.

  Stretched out close to Teagan, I’m feeling much less like a wannabe than before. Our shadows grow together across the sand.

  The sun eases herself toward the edge of the horizon…slowly at first…as if she’s afraid the ocean might be too cold despite her internal heat of a thousand radiant stars. Then all at once she makes contact…uniting the earth-bound waves with the winged loft of heaven. For a moment, the two opposites become a singular creation of ocean, of sky, and me.

  A flash radiates in all directions as we merge, but it only lasts a split second before singles becomes plural again: the earth above and the sky below with me left over.

  I don’t belong with either of them. I have no home.

  Home. Oh crap, I’ve been gone for hours. They’ll all be back from their hike by now, wondering where I am. Aidan and Claire must be freaking out. I pull my phone from my back pocket. Shit. No service.

  I picture them returning to the Vineyard: Claire skips through the front door, rushing to the room we share, eager to show me the four-leaf clover she found in the woods, then returning to the kitchen to report that I’m not there. Aidan runs out the back door and down the path to the garden bench, calling my name.

  Will they think I’ve just gone to my secret glade or taken a walk to the grove? Maybe they haven’t started to miss me yet.

  “Is everything okay, Emily?” Teagan asks, propping herself up on her elbow.

  “It’s just…I can’t check my messages. Do any of you guys have service?”

  “Expecting a call?” Minali chirps.

  “I thought I’d hear from my aunt…”

  “Always check in after you’ve run away?” Her snarky question clashes with her concerned tone.

  “It’s just…I didn’t leave a note. I didn’t tell my brother or my sister I was leaving.”

  “I have service, hon.” Teagan digs her phone out of her pocket. “Use mine.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m being stupid. Sorry. I kind of suck at this. I’ve never officially run away before.”

  “I have,” Teagan says.

  “So have I,” Chloe says.

  “You have?” I sit straight up.

  “I’ve skipped out a couple times for a while, too,” Brady says. “Everybody needs distance sometimes. But listen, Emily. It can cause more trouble than it’s worth. If your aunt freaks out and calls the cops it could get ugly. Then it’s just worse when you do go back.”

  Red and blue police lights flash behind my eyelids. How could I be such a moron? Of course she’s going to freak out and call the cops, I just got out of detox for taking half a bottle of Ambien, and my felon father, who I’ve accused of molesting me, just got out of prison.

  I scramble to my feet. What was I thinking?

  “I’ll call your aunt if you don’t want to,” Minali says. “I can tell her you’re staying with me tonight at the bungalow.”

  Did Minali really just offer to help me?

  Did she also refer to that gorgeously decorated mini-mansion as a bungalow?

  I must be tripping on secondhand weed.

  “Yes please, would you?” I beg, not caring if I sound pathetic. “Do you need her number?”

  But she shushes me with a finger to her lips, already holding the phone up to her ear. The stampede of alarm rushing through me begins to recede.

  “Hello, Mrs. Howard? This is Minali Pantha. No, that’s actually the reason I’m calling. Emily’s with me.”

  Teagan stands up and takes my hands in hers…probably afraid I’m going to gnaw my fingernails to shreds.

  “Yes. We’re at the beach, staying the weekend at the Peterson’s house. Emily’s phone doesn’t get reception here, so she asked me to call. My parents have invited her to stay and we just wanted to check with you.”

  Nooooo…I shake my head violently at Minali. Aunt Meg will definitely ask to speak to Mrs. Pantha.

  “She isn’t an inconvenience at all. No, I’m sorry, they’re not here right now. They’ve gone into town with some friends. We’re going to roast marshmallows with some other girls from church.”

  Wow. She’s smooth. Saying all the things Aunt Meg wants to hear.

  “Yes, I promise I’ll tell them. Yes, of course. Here she is.”

  My bladder goes all bunchy and prickly as I take the phone from Minali. “Hello?”

  “Emily, please be on your best behavior while you’re a guest of the Panthas.” Meg is business as usual, her yelly caps from earlier replaced with regular stern lowercase. “Remember your manners, and for Heaven’s sake, keep our family’s business private. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.”

  “Good. Nancy would like to speak to you. Hold on.”

  She hadn’t worried I’d run away or hurt myself after all. In her mind it was black and white: I’d misbehaved, been scolded, and left alone to think about what I’d done.

  “Emily? Are you all right, Dear?”

  My mouth trembles at the concern in Nancy’s voice. I nod, but of course she can’t see me.

  “Yes,” I try again.

  “I didn’t feel it was my place to intervene in your argument with Meg earlier, but I worried after we left that you might feel abandoned. I should have said something, Emily. I’m so sorry. I tried you earlier, but the call kept dropping.”

  Stupid tears hurl themselves from my eyes like they’re skydiving. Turning my back to the fire pit I walk a few steps away from all the ears pretending not to listen.

  “Thank you, Nancy.” That’s all I can manage without full-on sobbing. More than anything, I ache for her comforting arms around me.

  “Oh, Sweetheart. I know you’re hurting. I know Meg told you not to talk about what you’re going through… Don’t worry. She can’t hear me. I’m in the pantry.”

  The image of Nancy hiding in the pantry with the landline cord trailing out under the door like a teenager in some ‘80s sitcom makes me laugh. I wipe my nose on the sleeve of Kaillen’s unfortunate hoodie. “Okay. You could probably take her, though.”

  “Yes, well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Emily, listen to me. You’ve done nothing shameful. Receiving unwanted attention does not make you a bad person. And you don’t need to overthink or rationalize or defend your boundaries. I wish I could say that people will always respect them. But unfortunately, that isn’t true. You are not responsible for Pastor Baker’s actions. For your Aunt Meg to suggest otherwise was incredibly inappropriate, and I’ve told her as much. I also heard her tell you to keep family business private. I’m not suggesting you tell everyone you meet your whole life story. That wouldn’t be healthy either. But if you find an open heart, don’t be afraid to speak your truth. People recognize authenticity, Emily. Your experiences don’t define you. This work you’re doing and the choices you’re making…those are the things that define you. You are beautiful inside and out. Trust your heart and listen to your body.”

  Two women in my life. Same age, same knowledge of my situation…polar opposites in advice. One tells me to be myself, the other tells me to be anything but.

  Nancy’s words are analgesic ointment on my raw nerves. I am loved. I am worthwhile. I am understood.

  “Dear, I don’t want to keep you, but do you have time to say goodnight to Aidan and Claire? They’re missing you.”

  “Yes, please. I miss them, too. Thank you, Nancy.”

  “I’m h
ere if you need me, Dear. One second.”

  I stand up straighter, run my fingers through my hair, and clear the tears from my throat just in time.

  “Emily?”

  “Hey, Dork. How was the hike?”

  “It was okay, but it would have been better, you know. If…” Aidan doesn’t sound quite like himself.

  “If?” I probe.

  “Yeah. Like, if, you know…there’d been someone to talk to besides Claire. It was kind of quiet today.”

  “Aunt Meg’s standing right next to you listening, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah. Pretty much. Where are you?”

  “Big Sur with some kids from church.”

  “Hey, no fair, I’ve always wanted to go to Big Sur! When will you be back?”

  I’m not sure and it’s giving me lots of anxiety at the moment. But I can’t say that. Not to Aidan.

  “Not sure. We’re having a sleepover tonight.”

  “A sleepover? You’ve never had a sleepover in your life. You think they’re lame!”

  He’s not wrong.

  “Well, maybe I’m turning over a new leaf. You know, re-inventing myself. Maybe I’ve decided to get an advanced degree in Sleepovers.”

  “Ha! Maybe you’ll minor in Hair Braiding and Senseless Giggling, too,” he quips.

  “Yeah, well your thesis will be ‘Dorkhood Through the Ages: Preserving Dorkiness in Modern Times.’”

  There’s muffled shuffling and Aidan is abruptly gone. “Hey, I wasn’t done yet,” I hear him grumble. “I didn’t even say goodbye.”

  “Too bad, you should have talked faster.” Claire speaks half into the phone, and I visualize her making a face at him. “Hi Emma! Guess what! There was a place in the redwoods where they’d made a little village with doorways on tree trunks for faeries!”

  “Really?” I glance over my shoulder to find everyone staring, not even pretending not to eavesdrop. “That sounds cool, Bug.” I’m torn between wanting Claire to know I’m one hundred percent engaged in our conversation and not wanting Minali and her posse to know I’m discussing faeries with my little sister.

  “Yeah, it was. It reminded me of the Seventh Kingdom. Will you tell me more of the story tonight when we go to bed?”

  My middle squeezes. She’s not going to like this. “I’m not going to be back tonight, Bug. I’m sleeping here with some kids…I mean…with some girls from church.

  “But I don’t want to sleep by myself.” The whine in her voice wobbles tearfully. Recently she told me how hard it was for her to get to sleep when I was in the hospital. The nightmares she had, the fear that something would happen to me. That I wouldn’t ever come back. The guilt weighs heavy on me.

  “I’m sorry, Bug.”

  More shuffling. Claire’s muffled voice asks Aidan if he wants to put a sleeping bag on the floor in the guest room, to which he replies, “Sure, I guess.”

  “Never mind, it’s okay,” Claire says to me, her voice brightening. “Aidan says he’ll have a sleepover with me.”

  “Good,” I say. I’m relieved to hear she doesn’t suspect I ran away, that the thought of my abandoning her hasn’t even flashed across her mind. “Listen, Bug. I have to go now. You know I love you even when I’m not there, right?”

  “Duh. Of course we know. But you have to promise to come back soon.”

  “I promise,” I say around the waterworks rising in my throat.

  “Wait, a sec, Emma, Kaillen wants to talk to you.”

  “No!” OMG. “Claire, tell him I have to go because I’m using someone else’s phone and she needs it back,” I practically yell into the phone. “Tell him I’ll talk to him later!”

  But it’s too late. Kaillen’s voice is already on the line.

  “Emily?”

  He sounds agitated. I take a deep breath and click ‘END.’

  “I’m sorry that took so long.” I walk back to the fire and hand Minali her phone.

  “Any drama?” Brady asks.

  There’s a buzzing in my gut, like I’ve swallowed a hive of nervous bees. I’ve watched him all night and he isn’t this concerned about anyone else, not even Minali, and they’re supposedly together.

  He’s sooooo good looking. Does he actually like me, like me, or is he just being nice? I certainly don’t need Queen Minali pissed at me.

  Not to mention you already have a boyfriend, I remind myself, rubbing the goosebumps from my arms beneath Kaillen’s sweatshirt. And also another guy named Gabe who thinks he’s your boyfriend. Skank.

  Having a polite conversation with Brady and thinking he’s cute does not make you a skank.

  Oh, thank God. My Heart Voice is back. I’d almost forgotten what she sounded like.

  “No. No drama,” I answer Brady.

  “Come sit by me.” Teagan pats the sand beside her. “I’ll warm you up.”

  I’m much calmer after talking to Nancy and Aidan and Claire, but there’s still a matchbox car of anxiety racing around a closed circuit in my arms and legs because spending the night with virtual strangers is really, really outside my comfort zone and at any time I could have taken Minali up on her offer to take me home, or swallowed my pride and asked either Kaillen or Meg to come pick me up.

  But somehow I couldn’t do either of those things. I’m stuck here, and it’s nobody’s fault but my own.

  Gathering my courage I say, “So, my aunt asked when I’d be back tomorrow.”

  Minali shrugs. “Oh, don’t worry about her. I’ll have my mom call her if I need to. You’ll be back when you’re back.”

  The quarry of stones presses down on my sternum again.

  I pull the hood of Kaillen’s sweatshirt up as the others erupt in laughter over an inside joke. Their scattered words twine with sparks from the fire, imprinting distant after-images on the huddled lost girl occupying my body on this otherworldly beach, surrounded by people who frighten her more than a little bit.

  I recall what Nancy told me: “There are endless worlds between Realms and there are endless planes and dimensions within each world, Emily,” she said. “In every single one of them you are YOU. You can’t become lost when you are true to yourself.”

  True to myself? I don’t even like myself. I’m afraid of my own shadow. I’m a helpless victim.

  I’m such a screw-up. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be anywhere.

  Visualizing a softly glowing spark at the middle of my chest, I concentrate on my breath. I scan my body, preparing for self-hypnosis. Little by little my heart slows. My hands unclench.

  I don’t have a plan, I don’t know where I’m going, I just know I can’t stay here.

  My eyes flicker open briefly as Teagan tucks a blanket around my legs. Constellations of stars glitter behind the full-faced moon gazing down upon us. Waves lap at the edge of my awareness as I let go to sink through unexplored layers of consciousness.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I’m hanging onto the razor’s edge between the First and Second Realms, scrabbling for a better handhold, gripping at the verge with my knees, dangling precariously over the cosmos looming infinite beneath my feet.

  I gather a surge of Blaze and Keen to propel myself to safety, but I don’t know where safety lies, and in that second of doubt, my fingers lose their hold and I am plummeting, down, down…

  No! Desperation knifes through me. Madness lies between Realms, miserable and contagious, like the infected Fae. Like me.

  Glassy blue rises to meet me much too fast. I’m going to crash, I’m going to die broken to pieces against the unforgiving solid surface of…

  A deafening splash as the blue glass splinters on contact, heaving apart and swallowing me whole.

  I’m under water.

  A cross current of despair sucks at me, hauling me deeper into a boundless abyss, abrading the skin from my shoulder in stinging strips as it grates me across a rough ocean floor.

  Abruptly, the sucking stops. For a silent second I drift, weightless, buoyed by a strange vi
olent ebullience in my chest—a howling expansiveness snarling with rage—before I’m slammed against jagged rocks again, my breath knocked clean from my body.

  I’ve lost all direction. I reach for the surface only to close my fingers around fossils compressed by eons of time and the pressure of 187 quintillions of saline.

  I’m not dreaming, I’m drowning.

  Stop whining. State your Purpose.

  Heart! Is that you? Help me, please! I can’t breathe!

  Help yourself.

  This voice resonates from my body the same as my Heart’s Voice, but it’s deeper, merciless. It drips with the sultry darkness of contained chaos.

  Who are you?

  My name is Obsidian. I am Vengeance. I am Vigilante. I am RAGE.

  The violent ebullience rises again in my chest. I stop flailing. Surprised air bubbles escape through my nostrils and I sink further beneath the depths.

  Obsidian. HELP ME, please! I can’t breathe under water!

  You are Emily Ava Alvey. You are Ovate. Your Power is more vast than any ocean.

  I’m drowning!

  You drown because you came here with no thought save to escape, to hide. You cannot hide here.

  But I don’t belong anywhere! In the First Realm I’m nothing more than a prisoner and a pawn for the Queen. In the Second Realm I’m a powerless victim and socially awkward screw-up!

  I did not ask where you do not belong. That is only noise, a distraction from your Task. What is your Task?

  To find the person with authority who will tell me how to protect Jacob and Aidan and Claire.

  Authority is Power.

  Yes. You’re right. I know I need to stop running away and focus on my task. I’m sorry. I know I need to find my Champion, the person with the power to solve my problems. But I don’t even know where to look, and I’m DROWNING.

  You are Emily Ava Alvey. There is no power greater than the Power in you.

  A bombshell of shock explodes through me. Me? I’m the person with authority? I’m the Champion??

  Yes, You. You have experienced the phenomenal strength of your Power.

  But I don’t know what to do with it…

  Do not give me excuses. Learn. Train. Practice. Know your Purpose. Embrace your Power. Wield your Authority.