The Keeper (The Endless Chronicles Book 1)

by Nikki Mccormack

  No. Not now.

  Part of her wanted to make him understand. Another, more analytical part found the encounter fascinating and yearned to see where it would lead.

  “Five years as an Endless warrior.” His fingers brushed the braids in her hair. “The color?”

  How strange it must look to him? Her hair and the irises of her eyes were both a lustrous silvery black, not a color natural to his kind. “The color always changes to this. It is a physical manifestation of the Keeper, like the roots that weave upon this skin.”

  His pale eyes met hers, then shifted to the tendril of root at her temple. When his fingers moved toward it, she drew back a little and he touched her cheek instead, a soft caress that burned bittersweet upon her skin and left her breathless.

  Had anyone ever touched her that way? There was no such moment within the Keeper’s memory, though that memory had no beginning and no comprehensive sense of time. There was a glimmer of something from the mind within the host, however, even though those memories were supposed to remain dormant.

  She held still, reluctant to do anything that might end the contact. His gaze moved down, watching with a troubled fascination as his thumb lightly traced her lower lip.

  The call became undeniable then. A spirit needed keeping. She opened her mouth to explain and disappeared.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Deynas sucked in a breath and willed himself to keep his hands on the support rails. Misa had taken them into this dive. He needed to stand steady and trust her to pull them out of it on her own.

  She moved them into a spiral, the wind whipping past while the landing pad below grew larger by the second. Calm and deliberate, she shifted her weight and hands so they pulled out of the drop long enough to shoot out and dive over the cliff down towards the village at its base where the temporal, those who had never ascended to true Endless or who were still too young to begin training, lived. The ascended Endless now lived up on the higher cliffs near the temple and along the road leading up to it along with the instructors and Endless hopefuls.

  Misa pulled out of the dive a few yards above the stone council hall and banked around, red stone huts flashing beneath them. Then she turned up and rose to a cruising altitude, easing back on the throttle.

  The sound of her laughter made him smile and shake his head.

  “All right, you’ve shown that you can maneuver this thing, let’s see if you can land it.”

  She poked him with an elbow. “Of course I can.”

  If only Argus could see the invincible umahk-ra of this girl they had saved. Misa was easily as fiery and determined as Argus had been, though she still needed to learn some restraint.

  You would be proud of her, Argus-ra.

  He touched the small lump of the pendant that hung under his shirt. A glossy black stone shaped like a teardrop. It was the hardened blood of a god. The god had given the pendant to his mother to thank her for coming to its aid against a group of men hoping to profit from its flesh and organs in the illegal Undercity medicine markets. She had in turn placed the pendant in Deynas’s hand before she died and tried to say something, but death had stolen the words from her lips. He would never know what she meant to say, but he always wore the pendant even though it caused him distress for years wondering why her spirit didn’t haunt him the way Argus’s did. Had he not loved her enough?

  Now he knew it was because he had never seen her spirit, so he did not carry a piece of her in him the way he did Argus. It was at least a small consolation.

  He had sworn upon that god’s blood pendant to keep secret Argus’s spirit walking ability, not that it really mattered now. The rare Endless gifts were kept as secret as possible because they made one more of a target for certain forms of demon who collected or fed upon spirits. The temporal warriors of the tribes also tended to be uneasy working with ascended Endless who had such gifts, so it was prudent not to speak of them.

  Gifts like mine.

  Misa pressed back against him as she brought them to a halt above the landing pad and started to drop slowly down. The craft wobbled a little as she leaned out to one side and then the other to make sure she was clear of the other flyers. He looked too, though his height allowed him to do so without moving as much, and tried not to wonder if she were trying to flirt with him with the press of her body against his. The craft bumped down a little hard when she finally cut the engines and she cringed.

  He put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You did well. I think you’re ready to try a supervised solo flight.”

  She popped her buckles and twisted around to look at him, her face glowing. “Really!”

  I shouldn’t have touched her. He held back his smile and began to free the buckles of his harness. “Yes. Though you need to keep practicing those landings or you’ll never get your own flyer.”

  She flushed and handed him the key to the craft. “I know.”

  Did her fingers linger too long upon his when she gave him the key? Was this what it was like for Argus working with him? At least he had been closer to her age. He hoped that made it less awkward for her than this was for him.

  He turned quickly away and hopped down from the flyer.

  She followed close behind. “Deynas?”

  The tentative tone drew his attention. “Yes.”

  “Was it our fault?”

  He searched her eyes. “What?”

  “Argus-ra. You had to leave her because of us. If we hadn’t been there—”

  “Stop.” There was a painful spasm in his chest. He stared into her eyes, noticing the way her lips remained parted with unspoken words. He could say yes. Could dump the blame on them. Part of him wanted to, but he knew it was wrong. “What happened was the fault of the demons who took the city. She was Endless. It was her duty to protect all of us. She did that. You and Ren were never at fault.”

  “So you don’t hold it against me…I mean us?”

  “Of course not.”

  “That makes me glad, because I…” Her cheeks flared pink and she dropped her gaze.

  “Deynas-ra.” Ren called, running over to them.

  Thank The Undying. “I’m still not Endless, Ren,” Deynas reminded him, so pleased at the interruption that the improperly assigned honorific didn’t irritate him this time.

  The youth waved a dismissive hand at him. He’d been using the honorific ever since the wind spirit had addressed Deynas that way. “You will be soon.”

  “Perhaps.” Keep it secret. It felt a little like cheating to know he wouldn’t have to go through the ritual to ascend to Endless, but then Argus hadn’t either and he didn’t think it made her any less worthy.

  “Come look at this fantastic flyer.” Ren grabbed his hand and pulled, leaning his weight into it as if he might have a hope of dragging Deynas along by force.

  When he didn’t budge, the boy turned around and took hold with both hands, pitching his lanky frame back ineffectually. He gave up after a moment and glowered up at Deynas.

  “You win. I won’t call you Deynas-ra until its proper.”

  Deynas glanced at Misa to see if she’d recovered from their candid conversation and hoping she wouldn’t try to finish whatever she’d been about to say.

  Her lips pressed together in a regretful line for a few seconds then she shrugged. “I guess we better follow him before the excitement kills him.”

  Deynas grinned, relief easing the tightness in his chest. “I guess so.”

  Another flyer took off and passed over them. The pilot tipped it to one side at the edge of the landing pad nearest the temple to admire what was certainly the object of Ren’s enthusiasm. A fancy new tandem flyer sat parked there. It was a flashy deep red with gold flame upon the backswept wings and black racing lines down the center of the back. It sported two more jets than on any other flyer in the village. The support stands had black leather over thick padding along the spine and shoulders and the grips had wraps of similar supple black leather. The machi
ne was as well-appointed as any light craft built for speed could hope to be.

  The little boy in Deynas wanted to dash about the flyer and exclaim gleefully as Ren did. To avoid embarrassing himself, he settled for an admiring grin as he traced one finger along the edge of a glossy wing.

  “I bet this thing can spin like crazy,” Misa murmured, her voice thick with awe.

  A man strode out of the temple toward them. He was no one Deynas had seen before. His shoulder-length hair hung loose, free of braids, so he wasn’t an Endless warrior. Deynas gestured with a wave of his hand for Misa and Ren to step away from the flyer, which they did with sour looks.

  The man walked up and opened the small storage compartment in the rear of the craft, not acknowledging them in any way.

  Rude, but then, he did look rather unhappy.

  “It’s a beautiful flyer,” Deynas ventured in an effort to break the ice.

  The man still didn’t look at him, but he did respond, if somewhat curtly. “I won it in a wager. I’d prefer something less conspicuous.”

  Not a great start, but perhaps it was worth another try. He mustered a grin. “You can have mine.”

  He’d meant it as a joke, but the man looked up, his pale blue eyes locking on Deynas. They were ageless eyes. He must be Endless then, but...

  “Where is it?”

  Mystified, Deynas pointed at his flyer. “Right over there.”

  The man pulled a pack and a hard case out of the hatch, then locked it and tossed the key to Deynas who shut his gaping mouth and snatched it out of the air. They key was painted the same deep red as the flyer.

  “You’re serious?”

  The man walked up to him and looked him steadily in the eyes. “I am.”

  They stood of an equal height and, as Deynas met his gaze, something about the man stirred a feeling of recognition in him. “Do I know you?”

  “No.”

  “You’re the one Master Kochan sent for.”

  “Deynas.” Kochan stood in the doorway of the temple, his face storming with black emotion. “I would speak with you immediately.”

  The strange man held out his hand, eyes boring into Deynas.

  Deynas dug into his pocket and held the key to his flyer out to Misa. “Can you show this man to my flyer? Get my emergency kit and anything else out of the back before he departs.”

  “I’m on it.” Misa took the key. “Follow me.”

  The man gave a nod and strode after her without another word.

  It was hard not to follow him. There were so many questions Deynas wanted to ask, but he would have to hope Kochan was willing to answer them. From the look on the master’s face, he wasn’t in the mood to wait. As soon as he started toward the temple, Kochan turned and vanished inside. Deynas broke into a jog and hurried inside after him. As he entered the temple, he heard his flyer starting up behind him and glanced down at the red key still in his hand.

  Odd. He tucked it into a pocket.

  Inside, he searched around until he found Kochan back in one of the private chambers, kneeling before a low table. There were two cups of tea upon the table, both untouched. Kochan stared at the one farthest away as if he hoped to shatter it with his gaze.

  “That man was the one you sent for,” Deynas blurted, discarding proper ceremony. “Why is he leaving?”

  “I sent him away,” Kochan snapped. His hands gripped the edge of the table tight.

  Deynas stared. There was a sinking sensation in his chest. “I don’t understand, Master. I thought he was going to help me to work with my ability.”

  Kochan’s nostrils flared as he drew in a deep breath. “Naago has abandoned his tribe and temple. He is not welcome here.”

  Ageless eyes and a sword at his hip. Hair lightened with more silvery-gray than Kochan’s, but with no braids to mark his years. The man was a deserter. And yet…

  “What about—”

  “I will find someone else.” Kochan pounded a fist down on the table, spilling the tea in front of him.

  Deynas had never seen the master this openly angry. He bowed his head and backed out through the door that way, then turned and strode from the temple. Outside, he stopped beside the red flyer for a minute, watching the way the setting sun set the gold flames ablaze. Then he strode to the cliff at the far edge of the landing pad and looked down. The lamplighters were moving through the temporal village below, lighting the many street lamps. It got dark much faster down there than it did up at the level of the temple.

  Not so long ago, the entire village housed only the Endless trainees and their trainers. Now they shared it with the temporal and the Endless warriors. That all of them could live there without overcrowding said dark things about how many were lost when the demons took over the city. Somehow, temporal and Endless still didn’t live together. The children who were too young to worry about such things didn’t seem to notice the separation, but the Endless kept themselves mostly apart from their shorter-lived kin. Or perhaps it was those below who encouraged the division. It didn’t matter. He had no family down there.

  He peered out into the desert. Somewhere out there, his flyer was speeding away above the sand, his chance to understand and manage his ability vanishing in the sunset on its back.

  He put his hand in his pocket and tightened it around the red key until the edges bit into his palm. He pulled the key out and opened his hand, staring at it. The red flyer was his now. He would gladly trade it for the knowledge that the estranged master could have given him.

  Deserter. He looked up again. The red flyer was his now and it was a lot faster than the one Naago was flying.

  Deynas ran back to the red flyer and folded the rear stand down into its compartment to reduce wind drag. Then he leapt up and strapped himself in, positioning the goggles that still hung around his neck. When he turned the key, the craft purred to life, the sound of the engine no louder than that of the parking stands sliding smoothly back into their casings. The grips were soft as a woman’s skin.

  He grasped them gently and took the flyer up to get it clear of other craft. Then he gunned the throttle and almost inverted it when the unexpected surge of power threw him off balance. He recovered quickly, easing back on the throttle and regaining stability before he accelerated again, less aggressively this time.

  It took less than fifteen minutes for him to catch up with the other craft skimming away across the desert. When he brought the flyer up alongside Naago, the man gave him a sour look and came to an abrupt stop. Deynas eased his craft into a smooth arc, coming around to stop near his former flyer. He was already getting the hang of the more sensitive controls.

  “What do you want, Deynas-ra? Is the craft not to your liking?”

  “I need your help, Master Naago.”

  Naago stared into the distance, his lips pressed tightly together for a moment. “I gave up my right to that title years ago.”

  “And I am not Endless.”

  Naago looked at him then, his light eyes glowing in the fading light. “You are umahk-ra-uden. The Undying has given you a free pass into his inner circle. That change is nearly upon you. Can’t you feel it?”

  A chill of dread and excitement spread through Deynas. He did his best to shrug it off. “Help me. I need to understand the way my ability works. I’m haunted by the spirit fragment of someone who died and it’s holding me back.”

  Naago’s nose wrinkled as if he’d smelled something foul. “Go back to your tribe. I can’t help you.”

  “Where are you running away to?”

  Naago revved the flyers engine, his lip curling in a silent snarl. “To the Undercity, where all the unwanted creatures go.”

  Deynas ground his teeth, fighting to hold back his frustration. It was a losing battle. He could see that in the set of the other man’s jaw, but he couldn’t let it go. “You’re an Endless warrior and umahk-ra-uden. How can you stand to lie down beneath a blanket of self-pity in the filth of the Undercity?”

  Naago’s hand
sank to his sword hilt. “You know nothing of me. Go back to your village, Deynas-ra, or I will send you there in pieces.”

  Deynas started to reach to his belt and remembered that he’d brought no weapons. “You’re right. You don’t deserve to be called master.”

  With those cutting words, Deynas gunned the flyer, barely managing to keep his balance this time. He left Naago in a cloud of sand and didn’t look back.

  The cooling night air nipped at his skin as he sped away. The flyer responded to every tiny shift of weight like a perfect extension of his body, barreling up into the sky and diving down again at speeds that left him gasping for air. He flew for a long while, tearing up the sky and the dunes in turns until his frustration had faded and a poignant sorrow taken its place. By then he was shivering in the cold night. He took the flyer home.

  Sleep was slow in coming, not helped by the fact that he still hadn’t refreshed the padding on his bed. He tossed and turned for hours, then finally slipped into restless slumber and strange dreams.

  In the dream, his umahk-ra parted from his flesh like that of a spirit walker, a bright presence moving out of his body. Once free, it turned and embraced him, a comforting warmth enfolding him. Then it was Argus’s umahk-ra that embraced him, a brightly glowing form wearing her face, her indomitable smile. Pain burned through his flesh like the scalding of a high fever and he wept in his sleep, trembling while her umahk-ra held him. She stroked his hair and murmured to him in words he couldn’t quite understand.

  The pain and trembling grew worse and worse. Her words became clear.

  “Welcome, Deynas-ra.”

  She spoke those words repeatedly, her form expanding, her voice changing and separating until it echoed all around him, sexless, beautiful, and terrifying all at once. He looked up at her and found the three faces of The Undying gazing down at him.

  “Welcome, Deynas-ra.”

  He woke covered in sweat and shaking. Pain swept through him, putting every muscle into spasm as the ascendance changed him. Master Kochan was right, he would not have to endure the ritual to become Endless, but he would still endure the agony of ascendance. After what could have been several hours or a scant few minutes, the spasms stopped. He threw up on the woven mat by his bed and lay there, chilled with cooling sweat, too fatigued to clean up the mess.