The Keeper's Vow: A Chosen Novel (The Keepers Book 3)

by Meg Anne

  Lucian lifted a brow. “We’re still alive, aren’t we?”

  Ronan grunted. “Seems to me that a request from the trio should have expedited the process.”

  “Who said it didn’t?” Kael asked.

  “The point of the matter is this, regardless of where the Triumvirate have run off to, or what they’re up to, these people aren’t going to survive out here much longer. We’ve barely enough food to last us another three days, and that’s already cutting back our daily rations. They deserve a safe place to rest and come to terms with all that they’ve lost. We all do.”

  Lucian stared past Ronan, the Shield’s words sinking their hooks in deep. He wasn’t wrong. Looking around, Lucian eyed what was left of the travel-weary Keepers and their townsfolk. He spotted Desda offering what was left of her dinner to a man who’d lost his wife and daughter in the attack. These people needed a safe place. Somewhere they could start to rebuild what was left of their lives.

  “If we do not hear anything by morning, I will go myself,” Lucian declared.

  Ronan gave him a nod of thanks.

  Before Lucian could resume his own meal, a piercing scream shattered the night. His eyes fell closed, dread pooling in his stomach. He knew without looking what the cause of that terror-filled cry must be.

  Effie.

  Shooting to his feet, Lucian started running toward the wagon. Please don’t let her hurt anyone. If she survived, that was a blow she would not recover from easily. Casualties during war was one thing. The mindless slaughter of innocents was another entirely.

  Before he made it far, Lucian realized the crowd was running in the other direction, away from the supply cart. Never had he been happier or more relieved to be wrong. But if Effie wasn’t the one causing the screams . . .

  He didn’t have a chance to finish the thought before more terrified shouting filled the camp.

  “Attack!”

  “They’ve found us!”

  Some of the survivors drew their weapons, while others began dropping to their knees, prayers on their lips.

  Lucian wasn’t immune to fear, although it was rare for something to dig in deep enough to cause it. The possibility of another Shadow attack now, just when they were on the verge of finding a small measure of peace, was such a time.

  He scanned the area around the camp, blood surging through him as he prepared for battle. As his heart thundered, his brows began to vee with confusion. There was no way for the Shadows to sneak up on them here. The desert was flat as far as the eye could see—broken up with small sand dunes here and there—but none tall or wide enough to conceal a body, let alone several. A surprise attack would have been all but impossible.

  Completing his circle, Lucian found the source of the distress. Five figures dressed in shades of twilight stood on the edge of their camp.

  The people of the Vale had finally arrived.

  But where did they come from?

  After the war that destroyed their city, the people of the Vale saw fit to let the rest of the realm believe them dead. They took to the earth, rebuilding their city beneath the ground. To say they were wary of visitors was like saying Effie was merely suffering through a summer cold.

  After three scorching days, and two near-freezing nights, the Keepers were finally deemed safe. Or safe enough, Lucian mentally amended as he sheathed his weapon and strode through the gathered throng to join Kael.

  “You were saying?” Kael muttered to Ronan as Lucian reached them.

  Coming to a halt, Lucian found the answer to his question. The people of the Vale hadn’t approached them from the desert. They’d risen from the ground. Just behind the five figures, the entrance to their underground city glowed with soft light.

  “Stand down,” Kael ordered, his voice booming through the night. “These people mean us no harm.”

  “You picked a hell of a time to come,” Lucian said by way of greeting.

  “It didn’t seem fair for your people to suffer out here another night,” the man in the middle said.

  He looked vaguely familiar, but it had been decades since Lucian had cause to interact with one from the Vale’s Council, and it could easily be the descendant of a man he’d once met. The speaker had faded orange hair. It might have once been the same color as Ronan’s, but time had softened its burn. His skin was near translucent in the moonlight, his eyes a pale gray.

  Lucian quickly assessed the strangers flanking the speaker, starting with the younger woman beside him. She was perhaps half the speaker’s age and shared his coloring and features. Daughter . . . and possibly heir. On her left another man hovered protectively in front of her, not bothering to mask the threat in his dark eyes. And that would be her mate.

  To the other side was another male-female pair, although where the first couple had the aura of diplomats, these two were clearly soldiers. They did not have the sheer strength or size one usually associated with a warrior, but there was a calculating gleam in their eyes that Lucian recognized. That, combined with the wickedly sharp blades at the end of their polearms, painted a pretty clear picture. It had been a long time since Lucian had used a glaive, and he couldn’t help but feel a professional curiosity about their weapons as his eyes returned to the speaker.

  “I take it you’ve accepted our request for asylum,” Lucian said.

  The man dipped his head. “We have.”

  “I can’t help but notice the representatives we sent to speak with you are absent.”

  “Already making themselves comfortable below.”

  Lucian’s jaw clenched, but he did not voice his frustration.

  Ronan let out a disbelieving laugh.

  The speaker lifted a pale orange brow. “That’s amusing to you?”

  “Just seems to me that our comrades could have as easily been slain as doing as you say. It does not invoke much comfort that you have appeared without them.”

  The two soldiers at the man’s side did not move, but Lucian didn’t miss the way their grip tightened on their glaives.

  The man’s pale gray eyes glittered dangerously in the moonlight. “Are you insinuating that we are murderers, Shield?”

  Ronan’s eyes widened at the use of his title, but he did not back down. “No. Simply pointing out how this looks to the casual observer.”

  Lucian was inclined to agree, but he knew Nord. The youngest of the Guardians was as prone to break the rules as he was to follow them. Often the one left behind while Kael and Lucian took care of various matters, he would absolutely take advantage of the opportunity to eat and bathe before the rest of the group.

  Kael and Lucian exchanged a knowing look. Lips pressed together, Kael discreetly shook his head.

  “We mean no offense, but it has been a trying time. I’m sure you can understand,” Lucian said before Ronan could get them into real trouble.

  The man glared at Ronan a second longer before his expression evened out and he nodded. “Of course. Your home was destroyed, your people slaughtered. It stands to reason that your manners would be lacking.”

  Ronan grunted.

  “Gather your people and your belongings. Let’s get you settled.”

  Lucian relaxed at the words, the tension melting from his shoulders as he turned to obey. His relief lasted for a second, maybe even two, before his eyes landed on the wagon. They may have overcome one obstacle, but a bigger, much riskier one still waited.

  “Councilman,” Lucian called over his shoulder.

  “Yes?”

  “There’s something else we need to discuss.”

  Chapter 8

  The Councilman stared into the wagon, his face leached of the little color it retained.

  “You want me to allow that . . . thing . . . into my city?”

  “Her name is Effie.”

  Gulping, the older man blinked up at Lucian. “All due respect, Guardian, but that is no woman.”

  “She is a close friend of the Kiri Helena. We cannot simply abandon her.”

 
; “Be that as it may, Guardian. The risk is too high.”

  “You have my word that no harm will come to your people because of her.”

  Lucian could read the sympathy in the man’s eyes as he replied, “You must care for her deeply, and I have no doubt of your skill, but—”

  “Councilman, please . . .” Lucian’s hand was wrapped around the other man’s wrist. He did not beg. In his position, he rarely needed to. People often obeyed without question, and those that didn’t quickly had a change of heart after a little convincing.

  “How can you be sure your bindings will hold?”

  “They have so far. None but a handful even know of her presence. I thought it best until we found a cure.”

  Effie chose that moment to let out a muffled growl and writhe in her chains. The Councilman flinched and scrambled away from the wagon.

  “I don’t know . . .”

  “You have my word. You know that a Guardian does not give it lightly.”

  Lucian should have felt bad for placing such a decision at the other man’s feet. If their roles were reversed, Lucian would not be half as accepting. Not after what he’d seen in Caederan. Luckily for him, the Councilman had no such references to draw from. He only had Lucian’s promise that Effie would not be a threat.

  “She stays bound and locked in one of our holding cells at all times. If you find the cure you seek, you will perform any rituals locked in the cell with her. Until we are certain she has recovered, she will not set foot outside her cage.”

  Lucian fought a snarl at the word. It would not be the first time his fledgling had been caged. From what he knew of Effie’s upbringing, it was a form of punishment her parents utilized often. His options were few, but to have to agree to such a thing . . . it rankled.

  Vowing to make it up to her if they got through this, Lucian gave a terse nod. “Agreed.”

  “Guardian . . .”

  Lucian braced himself, the Councilman’s tone warning enough that he would not like what the man was about to say.

  “If you do not find a cure before her transformation is complete, I’ll kill her myself.”

  Rage exploded through Lucian, and his voice dropped to little more than a savage growl. “Touch her and you better wish she’s the one that ends you, Councilman. Because if she doesn’t that means you’ll have to deal with me, and I will not make it quick.”

  The older man blanched, and there was no missing the stench of fear as it rolled off him.

  “If the time comes I, and I alone, will see to her. Do you understand me?” Lucian asked, stepping forward to invade his space.

  “Y-yes, Guardian.”

  “Then it’s settled. Show me where we’ll be staying.”

  Gulping, the Councilman called over his shoulder. “Quin, Trinity, take our guests down to the holding cells. Then show the Guardian to his room.”

  The two Lucian identified as the soldiers peeled away from their perch by the tunnel. They’d remained behind after the last of the Keepers made their way down the ladder to wait for their leader.

  Lucian bristled, not wanting them or their weapons anywhere near Effie, but there was no real reason to fight against it either. Sighing, Lucian finally allowed his eyes to lift up to the chained woman.

  He’d felt her eyes boring into him the entire time he’d spoken with the Councilman. The monster that had taken residence inside of her was sly. Lucian knew that she’d been intrigued by his conversation, curious as to what he had planned for her. It was the only reason she was behaving.

  He didn’t trust that behavior to last. As soon as he went near her, she would lash out. It would not bode well for him if it appeared that he could not control her. Heaviness settled in his chest. Lucian couldn’t give the Councilman’s guards any reason to attack. Without giving himself a chance to second guess himself, Lucian stepped into the wagon.

  Effie began to squirm.

  Not wanting to give himself away with his words, Lucian stared into the eyes that marked her as a Shadow-touched. He searched for any sign of the woman trapped within the monster, but came up empty.

  Forgive me, fledgling.

  Lunging forward, Lucian brought the hilt of his sword down on her temple. He tried to temper his strength, but he still grimaced when her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped over.

  It was as if he felt the pain of the blow himself. Every time he had to strike her it was the same. She might be the one on the receiving end, but he was the one suffering. Lucian minimized the use of violence with her as much as possible, but it was a necessary evil. He knew it, but it didn’t make it any easier. His soul was procuring quite the collection of scars. By the time this was over, it might be more tattered than the scrap Effie was currently clinging to.

  Bending down, he lifted her up over his shoulder, trying to ignore the changes to her once lush figure. The corruption was spreading, of that there was no doubt. The physical transformation was the slowest, the process subtle but no less terrifying because of it. Each morning when he’d check on her, he’d find some new sign of her deterioration. Lucian was dreading the morning it was complete.

  Sucking in a breath, Lucian turned and dropped from the wagon as if nothing happened. He might be trapped in the midst of his own private hell, but no one else needed to know about it. That turmoil was for him alone. It was his penance for failing her in the first place.

  “Let’s go,” he said, voice flat.

  Quin and Trinity wore matching blank expressions. If they knew what the creature in his arms was, they gave no indication. Lucian was mildly surprised that the Councilman didn’t see fit to fill them in. Perhaps that would come later, once he was well away from the angered Guardian.

  “Where shall we find you once we’re done, Vance?”

  The casual use of the Councilman’s name struck Lucian. So far, the people of the Vale had not officially introduced themselves. It could have been intentional or merely an oversight. When it came to members of the Valen Council, anything was possible. Even so, Lucian strongly believed it was the former, if only because it was something he would do.

  “I’ll be updating the rest of the Council. Meet us in the solarium.”

  Lucian was intrigued despite himself. “A solarium? Underground?”

  The female soldier, Trinity, smirked. “Not familiar with the history of Val’don, Guardian?”

  “Should I be?”

  She rose to the bait, her smile fading, replaced with something far closer to a sneer. “Your ignorance is disappointing. I thought the Keepers and their immortal guards were supposed to be people of learning.”

  Lucian shrugged. “And I was told the people of the Vale’s hospitality was surpassed only by their innovation. With the bar you’ve set thus far, I’m not holding my breath for much in the way of the latter. Guess we’ll both have to learn how to live with the disappointment.”

  Trinity’s eyes narrowed.

  Quin chuckled, causing Trinity to level her scowl on him. “He insults us, and you laugh?”

  “Trin, he’s goading you.”

  Her eyes bounced between them before her expression cleared. “Oh.”

  Quin offered Lucian a friendly grin. “Our ancestors learned how to harvest the power of the sun with mirrors early on. As a desert people, life away from the sun was a blessing and a misery. Since then, we’ve fine-tuned many of their early tinkerings and made our own advancements, but that one has remained untouched.”

  Lucian nodded. “I look forward to discovering some of them during our stay. Perhaps it will help me find an answer to my own riddle.”

  Quin glanced at Effie. “Would that riddle have anything to do with what happened to her?”

  He had to credit the man. There was no discernable fear or disgust in his voice. “Aye.”

  The soldier nodded. “Well then, let us hope you find the answers you seek.”

  “I find it hard to believe a Keeper would struggle to find answers to any question.”

&nb
sp; Lucian glanced at Trinity. “Alas, I’m not a Keeper with their access to prophecy and visions.”

  She let out a soft, “Hmph.”

  “Forgive my sister. She can hold a grudge longer than anyone I know.”

  “I have my share of experience dealing with wounded pride. I think I’ll survive hers.”

  Quin laughed, but Trinity threw him an ugly look.

  “I don’t like you, Guardian,” she stated.

  “Stand in line. Not many do.”

  “I can see why,” she hissed.

  Lucian had to admit he was enjoying ruffling the woman’s feathers. It reminded him of bickering with Effie and had the added benefit of blunting the edge of his temper. Trinity may not realize it yet, but she’d just found herself a new verbal sparring partner. Lucian bared his teeth at her in the barest semblance of a smile.

  Trinity’s eyes went wide, and she stumbled slightly. His smile must have shown more of his true nature than he’d intended, Lucian thought with a silent chuckle. Good. At least now the woman realizes who she’s dealing with.

  “Trin, enough,” her brother said softly. “He and his people have requested sanctuary. They’ve suffered plenty without having to add your insults to the list.”

  Cheeks flushing at the reprimand, her eyes dropped to her feet as they reached the opening to the city below.

  Peering inside, Lucian’s eyes landed on an illuminated set of stairs that curved down, following the wall until it disappeared from view.

  “Can you manage with her in your arms?” Quin asked with a raised brow.

  Lucian nodded once. While the steps were steep, they would hardly present a challenge. He’d navigated worse while holding something far less valuable in his arms.

  Trinity hadn’t waited for Lucian to reply. She was taking the stairs two at a time, the top of her head already disappearing into the ground.

  “After you,” Quin murmured, waving Lucian forward.

  His instincts raged against allowing an armed stranger at his back, but Lucian forced himself forward. For Effie, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t subject himself to. Especially when it was something that bought him another day with her. Or, if not with her exactly, at least it provided him with more time to find a way to save her. To find a way to bring her back. For that, Lucian would give anything.