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

by Jane Alvey Harris

  “I’m not the strongest,” I protest, not liking the gleeful anticipation in her eyes at all. “I’m not stronger than Drake.”

  “Yes you are,” Chloe argues. “Without even knowing how to Channel you defeated him.”

  “I didn’t defeat him, I tricked him. He could have decimated me.”

  “Emily.” Teagan takes both my hands. “If he could have, he would have.”

  “You ripped the fabric of the Third Realm to shreds and obliterated the Seal between the First and Second Realms.” I can tell Twist is trying really hard not to yell at me. “I was there when the barrier exploded. Do you have any idea how much power that would take?”

  I nod wryly at Twist. By the look on her face, she realizes she just asked the world’s most ridiculous question. Because I have more than just an idea how much power it would take, and the answer to her question is: way more than I can control.

  “What did it feel like, Emily?” Awe and curiosity bloom in Teagan’s voice. “When you gathered that much Blaze and Keen? What did it feel like to hold that much power?”

  “It was like being laid bare.” My voice fades into a whisper as I recall the intensity. “Like being consumed by fire.”

  “Not tame or in control, then?” She smiles.

  “No. Wild.”

  Teagan squeezes my hands gently between hers. “Let’s be wild and vulnerable together, Emma. Wanna?”

  And even though the thought of losing control again terrifies me, I’d do just about anything to hold onto that look of admiration in her eyes. “Hells Yes.”

  Chapter Thirty

  They insist that before we start practicing any Drake-decimating maneuvers, I am initiated into the Shield Maiden Club. I guess they spent an hour planning the whole thing while I dozed, exhausted from my brief between-Realms experience. I’m slightly anxious—but mostly curious—about what they have in store for me, but it’s hard to focus on any of it while Teagan’s long fingers with their sculpted nails tangle in my hair, dividing, coiling, twining.

  I can’t tell whether she’s even paying attention to what her hands are doing—her honeyed laugh follows Twist, Chloe, and Minali as they dart around the beach—but I don’t give one figgy pudding about how this will look. I just love the way her hands feel and I’m already a million times more relaxed. The mounting pressure that’s been building since we snuck from the palace yesterday escapes through the pores in my scalp each time she tugs on my roots. I can’t hold back the tiniest sigh of luxury. If I keep very still and stay very quiet, maybe she’ll switch on autopilot and never ever stop.

  “I’m not too rough, am I?” She adds a little scratch in with her braiding at the base of my skull.

  “God noooooo…” I purr, arching my back just like a cat in the sun. “Can we do this every day forever? Your touch is magic.”

  “I wish. I love playing with your hair. It’s a jungle: bright and warm on top, dark and mysterious underneath. I’ve laced it so you can see both. A riot of color.”

  She leans back to view her work. “Oh, yes. You’ll be plenty wild when we’re through with you.” Pursing her lips, she whistles the short trill of some bird I instantly want as a pet. The girls all stop in their tracks and look our way, shading their eyes from the midday sun. “Emily’s ready, girls,” she calls.

  Then a chorus of whoops. Chloe and Minali drop whatever is in their arms and come running, each bare footstep kicking up a divot of wet sand. Twist stoops, placing several smallish objects on a rock by the tide pools before sprinting to join the other two. She’s the shortest of the three, but still easily outpaces the others.

  If rebellious goddesses fell from Olympus and forgot their hairbrushes, this is what they’d look like.

  Flushed and noisy they tumble to a stop, chests heaving, arms draped over each other. “Not fair!” Minali gasps. “You didn’t say it was a race!”

  “Would it have mattered?” Twist is the queen of talking smack.

  “Oh Teagan!” With big eyes Chloe steps closer, scooching around behind me. I can sense her hovering hands almost touching my hair. “Will you do mine next? You look like a princess, Emily. Is that coral?”

  “You know that’s going to get totally destroyed, right?” Twist remarks dryly.

  “I know,” Teagan says. “But it’s important for our Initiate to look perfect for her baptism.”

  “You do look like a princess, Ems,” Twist says, reaching out to adjust a piece of opalescent shell in my hair. “Which is cool, I guess. You’re the Queen and we’re your Shield Maidens...your own personal Honor Guard.”

  I swat her hand away. “I’m not your Queen. The whole point of this ‘mission’ is to toughen me up, remember? I’m going to be a Shield Maiden. You can be the Queen.”

  “Ha! That’ll be the day!”

  “You don’t think I have it in me, do you, Twist? Just because my hair is fab doesn’t mean I can’t kick your ass.”

  “OooohhhooOOhhhhh…” Minali, Teagan, and Chloe mock in unison.

  “Listen to her,” Teagan clucks, hands on hips and grinning proud. “Talkin like a bitch.”

  “Um, Emily,” Chloe says. “To be fair, you are a princess. Your grandparents were the King and Queen of the Seventh Kingdom and the High King is your great-grandfather.”

  “Thanks for the reminder, Chloe.” I pinch her playfully on her arm. “I’d almost forgotten.”

  Twist’s grin grows wider. “Alright, Lady Alvey. You think you can play with the big girls?” She’s already unstrapped all her knives and other miscellaneous weapons, of which there’s no shortage. She unzips the hidden zipper on the side of her under-armor, pulls her arms out, and shimmies the whole thing down over her hips. “Let’s have your initiation ceremony. We’ll start with a dip in the ocean and then have a bake in the kiln.”

  “Kiln?”

  “That’s what we’ve been working on while you were being spoiled rotten,” Minali says, peeling her leggings off.

  “Don’t worry, Emma. It’s not actually a kiln,” Teagan reassures me. “It’s more like…”

  “An oven.” Chloe laughs.

  “Stop trying to scare her, guys,” Teagan chides. “It’s just a sauna, Emma.”

  But the thought of the kiln isn’t what spreads heat from the center of my chest like red ink from a scandalized squid: within seconds they’re naked. Not just down to their underwear naked, either—they’re all the way naked.

  “It’s Emily’s ceremony.” Teagan turns to me. “She should get to decide. Should we start in the ocean or the sauna, Emma?”

  From my periphery vision I see them grin at me expectantly, but I keep my eyes averted. Where am I supposed to look?

  I opted-out of high school gym class, forging a note from my mom saying I had a debilitating spinal condition that has yet to be named. I’ve never stripped in front of anyone since well before puberty. Yet these girls all act like it’s no big deal. Is this something they do all the time…get naked around other people? No one has ever seen my mature body. Not a boy, not a friend, not even a doctor. Physicals and other medical stuff kind of got lost in the shuffle when we moved from Utah to Texas and Mom’s depression and pill problem grew bigger than her ability to manage teaching and being a single parent/estranged prison wife.

  “Come on, Emma,” Teagan encourages. “This is part of becoming a Shield Maiden. The Utterly Ridiculous Male Guide to the Art of Combat says warriors ‘must face the rigors of exposure to extreme temperature in order to demonstrate their mindful mastery of the elements and control over the physical symptoms of corporeal duress.’ Anything they can do, we can do a billion times better! We’ll all do it together.”

  “But, erm…what if someone sees us?”

  “Like who?” Minali challenges. “A sand crab?”

  “Are you for real right now?” I can hear the shape of Twist’s disbelieving grimace. “You can’t even look at us, can you? How did we ever become friends? I mean I knew you were a prude, Emily, but this is
offensive.”

  I’ve offended her? How? I’m not the one naked!

  My hands fidget at my middle. It’s taking all my focus not to pull my wings forward and wrap them around my chest, as if covering myself up even more will somehow hide their indecency.

  “If you want to be ashamed of your own body go ahead,” Twist continues. “But don’t judge us because we aren’t ashamed of ours.”

  “I’m not judging you,” I insist, speaking slightly off to the left, my gaze fixed on the endless sea.

  “Then look at us.”

  Well. Now that she’s accused me of being a self-righteous prig I have to do something. I gather a scowl and aim it at all of them, but at Twist in particular.

  They stand on the beach next to their discarded garments, arms looped through each other’s elbows, crisscrossing behind backs where I can’t see. Each of them holds a floss-thin weave of Blaze, a buffer against the ever-present mid-60’s Pacific chill.

  Everything about their postures and body language says casual and relaxed except their wings. Diamond bright sparkles leap from the rigid-sharp edges angled above their shoulders in gorgeous defiance of senseless rules, judgment, and self-censorship.

  Twist stares back at me, challenging. Teagan, Chloe, and Minali study my face, waiting.

  The memory of being nude in the glade rises around me, the communion with nature, the freedom of having nothing to hide. Ava had asked me that day what I thought of the girl who danced with butterflies. My reply had been: I admire her. I want to BE her.

  Confusion mingles with curiosity and excitement. I’m not sure how to feel right now.

  I was raised to believe that it’s immodest to show my body or draw attention to myself, that it tempts others into immoral thoughts and actions, and that I’m responsible if my immodesty causes wickedness in others. The parts covered by your bra and underwear are for no one to see or touch except a doctor—only if your mother is present—because private parts provoke dirty feelings and even dirtier acts.

  But there is nothing dirty here.

  I’m listening to all these thoughts swirling in my head, and I remember what Nancy said: so many of them have been put there by other people. I need to know how I feel.

  I take all the conflicting ideas and emotions and sink them right into the center of my Heart. Suddenly, my inhibition is gone. My eyes are free to travel the curved lines of my friends’ bodies: up and over, around and back their intertwining limbs.

  They blend like multicolored threads on a loom. The complex ombre of tints and shades flow like Magic. From cream-dipped Chloe to Minali’s saffron burnished sandalwood, whose glow in turn highlights the dusk gathered at the nexus of Teagan’s elbows, knees, and shoulders, and complement Twist’s mother-of-pearl luster and spiked silver hair.

  This is what naked looks like, my Heart says. There is no shame in this.

  All they’re missing is my paler-than-pale ready-to-burn strawberry-blonde fairness to complete the palette.

  It’s one thing to hear people talk about feminine strength, and quite another to witness it magnificently displayed on the beach before you. These women stand with dignity and a complete lack of self-consciousness.

  They are lovely and fierce, no different naked than clothed. They are my sisters. How can I denounce them? They’ve done nothing except offer to accept me as I am.

  The rigid lines of my scowl soften into an almost-smile. “Isn’t it cheating to shield yourselves from the cold?” I ask as I wiggle my breeches and panties down over my hips.

  “Not while we’re waiting for you,” Teagan answers. “It’s a tit-bit nippily out here and you’re taking forever.”

  I pull my tunic over my head and slip out of my bra.

  Nobody’s staring, nobody’s awkward, nobody’s comparing. We’re just us, only not covered up. It’s crazy liberating. Not one of us is the same, but we’re not really different either. And nobody cares.

  “Nippy-noodles for sure,” Chloe agrees. “But just wait. The ocean is never warmer than 55 degrees.”

  “And the sauna’s a toasty 165,” Minali grins.

  “I imagine the transition will be shocking, to say the least.” Twist’s voice offers an olive branch of compassion. I grab on with both hands.

  “Is that even healthy?” I roll my garments up so I won’t lose anything important, and then toss them on the heap with everybody else’s stuff. “If I have a heart attack do you guys know CPR?”

  “Oh wow.” Twist rolls her eyes. “You’re such a drama queen.”

  “Get it?” I laugh, twirling with my arms outstretched. “Because I’m your QUEEN?”

  “Oh my,” Teagan says, grabbing my hand. “Let’s go, Queenie. You’re ready for your ceremonial washing and anointing.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Holy. SHIT.

  This ocean could freeze the High Queen’s tits.

  Suddenly, being naked and dry on the sand seems like the only reasonable option. They can’t possibly be serious about skinny-dipping. This has to be a joke.

  But the way they’re herding me into the waves doesn’t feel like a joke.

  “Listen. I’ve changed my mind,” I say as regally as I can while Hypothermia wraps her frigid fingers around my ankles. “I don’t want to be a Shield Maiden anymore. Or a Queen. In fact, I can’t be either of those things because I can’t feel my feet. I’m not even sure I have feet…”

  “Oh stop. It’s not that bad.” Minali laughs, her long brown hair tangles with mine in the wind as she half-pushes/half-pulls me into the surf.

  “Yes, it is. It’s worse than bad!” I know they hear the shaky panic in my voice, and it may be ridiculous, but the fear of icy water hitting my unprotected lady-parts is shutting me down. This is completely different from the pond in the glade. This ocean is alive. I swear it’s sentient and plotting my demise.

  “It’ll feel better once you’re all the way in,” Teagan promises, keeping an iron grip on my arm. “Plus, as soon as we get out we’re going straight to the sauna to get all steamy before Chloe does your scrub.”

  “Have you ever had a scrub before, Emma?” Chloe asks, just like we’re having a casual brunch conversation and not at all like she has one hand below the base of each of my wings, straight-arm shoving me one step at a time deeper into the glacial surf.

  “Seriously, you guys,” I go on, completely ignoring Chloe. “Isn’t the point of this whole ‘mission’ to teach me to stand up for myself? Well, that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m saying no. No means NO. I don’t want to freeze to death in the ocean. I don’t want whatever a scrub is. I just want to put my clothes back on. We’re all going to be sterile if we don’t go back to shore right now!” I gasp as a wave crests against me mid-thigh.

  “Except,” Minali counters, “It’s not like you don’t know how to swim, right? And you said less than two minutes ago that we had your permission to force you even if you ‘screamed bloody murder and made crap jokes about consent.’ Am I quoting her correctly, Twist?”

  “I heard her!” Twist has, of course, already fully submerged. She side-strokes five yards out from us, then dives beneath the blue so only the tips of her re-growing wings break the surface like some kind of exotic fish I want to punch, reappearing moments later only to stand up and point straight at me and yell: “Guys, block her! She’s holding Blaze!”

  Busted. The buffer of warmth I’ve surrounded myself with vanishes. How the Hell did they do that?

  A freezing wave licks the sensitive folds between my legs. I scream, jumping straight up. “Please, please, please!” I beg. “Let me go! I promise. I’ll do it myself, I promise! Just give me two seconds, I swear.”

  “Whoa, Nelly.” Minali wades back several steps from me, unamused. “Sheesh. We’re not going to drown you, Emily. Come on, girls,” she says to Chloe and Teagan. “Race you to that rock!”

  They disappear underwater with a gulping half-shout, leaving me shivering as the warm impression of their hands di
sappears in the wet wind.

  Is there nothing they’re afraid of? Is this kind of bravery natural?

  Or maybe they only seem supernaturally brave compared to me. I’m not comfortable in my body. Not ever. I’m not comfortable, period.

  But I want to be.

  “Wait,” I yell as they resurface, spraying ocean at the sky. “Does this mean we’re nudists now? Do you guys do naked swimming all the time?”

  “More than you, obviously,” Teagan says, swimming closer and reaching for me with a beguiling smile.

  I grip her hand, pack an extra breath into my lungs, and let her coax me under the waves.

  For a moment, the combined pressure of the world ocean compresses my lungs, and I know it is only a matter of seconds before my mouth opens involuntarily, starved for air, and the vast sea rushes in, dragging me down to a watery grave.

  But my panic dissolves as a tranquil intangible finger touches the top of my spine. All the heat leaving my body joins with all the cold entering in this one pinprick spot, creating an expanding peacefulness that swallows me whole.

  In this moment, I claim water as my element. It is the place between everything I am and everything I want to be. In a flash of breathless stillness, I contemplate the vast reach of the planet’s relentless fluid blue movement, and within it, the promise of my own potential to do things I thought were impossible only moments ago. I am neither earthbound, nor am I whipped by wind. I am baptized by duality.

  Emerging on dry land, a flock of goosebumps tightens my skin. I’m ushered to the sauna by my shivering, giggling friends, but each step I take becomes my own. Already I’m braver. Stronger. A new eagerness walks with me now, along with my customary fear of the Unknown, which might not ever leave. That’s okay, I decide. Fear can come, too, as long as she doesn’t call the shots. I won’t be held back any longer.

  The sauna is crude and gap-toothed with handfuls of kelp stuffed in the chinks.

  It’s also sturdy and massive and I’ve never seen anything more organically beautiful. It’s like an ancient formation built by an entire village of indigenous people rather than constructed in a single morning by three ingenious girls.