Keeper

by Kim Chance

  “Yes . . . green eyes,” Serena said, her knowing eyes staring into my mine. “Oh Lainey, do you know what this means?”

  “Oh yeah, of course.” I rolled my eyes.

  Serena’s eyes were closed, and she looked as if she were going to cry. “The cloaking spells aren’t working anymore.” She looked at me, tears brimming in her eyes. “Oh God, I told Gareth!”

  The hysteria on her face made my heart race. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s called the Awakening,” Serena began, her tone resembling that of a teacher giving an important lecture. “Although witches are born with their powers, they don’t manifest until the witch is grown—usually around one’s seventeenth birthday. There are rare cases, though, of premature witches being able to perform small feats of magic. We call them pulses.”

  “And these pulses?” I said, trying to grasp the situation. “They’re bad?”

  Serena’s lower lip was trembling when she spoke, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “Powerful magic attracts attention.”

  “And these pulses are coming from me?”

  Serena nodded gravely. “You are your mother’s daughter.”

  I swallowed. “So the tree was feeding off my . . . my magic?”

  “I believe so, yes.”

  My chest was starting to tighten. I sat down on the edge of the couch and tried to take a few deep breaths.

  “And it wasn’t Josephine who saved you.” Serena knelt down in front of me. “It would be almost impossible for her to perform that kind of magic from the other side. No, I think it was you, Lainey.” She pointed to my eyes. “Magic always leaves a mark.”

  I tried to speak, but the words were stuck in my throat.

  “Gareth and I have been cloaking you your entire life, using magic to hide the pull of your power. But you’re getting stronger, Lainey. The spells . . . they’re failing. If Josephine has linked the two of you, it must mean she’s trying to warn you.” Her eyes flitted once again to the tarot card lying faceup on the table. “You’re in terrible danger.”

  The words made me shiver. “You’re psychic, right? Can’t you look into your crystal ball or something? Give me something more concrete than that?”

  “I’m a Seer, but my Sight doesn’t work that way,” Serena argued. “I’m afraid modern entertainment has painted a rather unrealistic portrait of my abilities. I can’t just tap into people’s lives and see what I want to see. I see flashes, things that will come to pass or might merely be a glimpse of what could be. And magic also distorts my Sight—it’s very susceptible to spells and charms. Even protection wards.” She indicated me. “It’s all very subjective.”

  “Then what good is a Seer?” I seethed. Anger boiled under my skin until it exploded through me. “You say you knew my mother, that she was your friend. Did it ever occur to you that maybe her daughter deserved better than a life full of lies?”

  Serena winced as though she’d been struck.

  I wanted to keep yelling. I wanted to throw things and scream at the top of my lungs, but as quickly as it’d come, the fire leaked out of me. My entire face crumpled as the anger gave way to something much deeper. “You’re the closest thing I have to a mother anymore. Didn’t you think I deserved to know the truth?”

  Serena didn’t bother wiping the tears that streaked down her cheeks. She stared at me with eyes that were full of guilt as she struggled to respond. “Lainey, I wanted to, but Gareth . . .” She trailed off and looked miserably down at her lap. Tears fell from her cheeks and made tiny wet spots on the fabric of her skirt. After a few moments, she looked back at me, the remorse in her eyes clear. “You’re right. We should’ve told you. But you have to understand, we’ve only ever tried to protect you.”

  I nodded and tried to take the words to heart, but when Serena tried to wrap a comforting arm around my shoulders, I couldn’t help but pull away. I knew Serena’s words were genuine, but the betrayal I felt still burned around the edges. “No more lies, okay?”

  Serena nodded her head gravely. “I promise.”

  I turned my attention back to the book in my lap, focusing once more on Josephine’s smiling face. “So what happens now?”

  Serena stood up from the couch and ran her fingers anxiously through her hair. “That part, I don’t know. This is practically unprecedented, and I’m no expert on witches.”

  “Well, Gareth will know what to do, right? I mean, he’s my uncle, so that makes him a witch, too—or rather a warlock.”

  Serena’s eyes darted around the room, her shoulders tense. But almost immediately, she relaxed her posture and looked at me with a knowing smile. “Yes, you’re right. Gareth will know what to do.”

  I closed the book and stood up, wiping my hands on the fabric of my jeans. “Guess I’m just gonna have to talk to him, then.” A feeling of dread washed over me at the thought of confronting him.

  “In the meantime,” Serena interrupted my thoughts, “please be careful. Don’t attempt anything foolish.”

  “Oh, right, my powers.” I looked down at my hands and laughed—the alternative was to succumb to the panic that gnawed at the back of my mind and burst into tears. “Don’t worry. If I have the sudden urge to yell ‘Expelliarmus!’ at passersby, I’ll try to refrain.”

  It was a terrible attempt at a joke, and Serena didn’t laugh. “I’m serious, Lainey. Don’t do anything stupid. There are eyes everywhere.”

  Serena’s words knocked the smile right off my face. If anyone finds out about you, you’re likely to share her fate.

  I gulped. “What do I do?” I held out my hands away from my body, afraid magic might start shooting from my fingertips.

  “First of all, don’t panic,” Serena answered. “That will only make things worse.”

  My head was beginning to throb, and I wasn’t sure if it was the massive brain overload or my body going into shock. I pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes shut.

  “I’m going to keep consulting the cards,” Serena continued. “See if there’s anything I missed and reach out to some fellow Seers. Something is going on, I can feel it. Go home, now. You need to talk to Gareth.”

  I nodded. I was suddenly exhausted in every possible way. All I wanted was to sleep until the world made sense again.

  Practically in a daze, I shuffled over to where Ty and Maggie were standing stiffly by the bookcases. Maggie looked as overwhelmed as I felt; Ty’s face was unreadable. His shoulders were tense. He had his hands intertwined behind his neck, and his eyes were trained on the ground.

  “You guys ready?”

  Maggie nodded and Ty looked up, his strained eyes softening. “Yeah, let’s go.”

  “Just a second, young man,” Serena called as they headed for the door. “A word, please.”

  Ty muttered something under his breath and then jogged back to where Serena was standing.

  “What do you think that’s all about?” Maggie asked, watching as Serena and Ty spoke in hushed tones.

  “I’m too overwhelmed to even guess,” I said. I swayed a little, leaning on Maggie for support.

  “Well, whatever it is, he doesn’t look happy,” Maggie observed.

  Ty said good-bye to Serena and made his way back toward us. “It was nothing,” he said in answer to our expectant faces. “Something she saw in my aura or whatever.” He waved his hand in dismissal and pushed open the door to the shop.

  I took one last look at Serena, who was already hunched over her tarot cards, and followed Ty out into the bright sunlight.

  The car ride to my house was quiet, but I was grateful for the silence. Now that the adrenaline from everything that had happened had drained away, I was physically and emotionally spent. I doubted that I could’ve carried on much of a conversation even if I’d wanted to.

  Maggie was passed out in the backseat, and I was having a har
d time keeping my own eyelids from drooping. The radio was playing softly in the background, and as I stared out the window, I tried to not to think about anything other than the reassuring pressure of Ty’s hand holding mine.

  It wasn’t long before he pulled the car into my driveway.

  I glanced at the clock on the dash. It was a little after eleven in the morning. Gareth’s truck was missing from its spot in the driveway, and I was relieved. I wasn’t ready to face that conversation just yet.

  “Thank you for the ride home.” I turned to Ty. “And . . . for everything else, too.”

  Ty inclined his head. “Anytime.”

  I gently shook Maggie’ shoulder, waking her. “I’m leaving, Mags.”

  She sat up, looking bedraggled. “I’ll call you soon.”

  I opened the car door and managed to keep myself upright long enough to unlock the front door and stumble inside. I gave a small wave to Maggie and Ty as he backed his car out of the driveway, and then I turned and fumbled up the stairs toward my room.

  Sinking down onto my bed, I shrugged off my clothes and pulled my favorite worn sleep shirt over my head. The picture of my parents, of my mother wearing Josephine’s necklace, stared at me from the bedside table. I’d forgotten to ask Serena about the necklace.

  There’s still so much I don’t understand.

  An invisible hand wrapped around my heart and squeezed until I was sure it would break, the smiling faces of my parents as the only witnesses.

  With one hand clutching at my chest, I pulled the comforter over my head, blocking out the world.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “There you are.”

  I turned to see Maggie walking toward me, her hands plunged into the pockets of her jeans. Her face was pale, and there were purple circles underneath her eyes, similar to my own.

  “How’d you find me?”

  “It wasn’t hard to guess.” Maggie shrugged. “Besides, it’s a really small town.”

  I nodded as she settled beside me on the picnic table.

  “Why are you here, Lainey?”

  “I really don’t know,” I replied after a minute or two. I’d woken up restless from my nap and grabbed my car keys. After driving around aimlessly for a while, I’d ended up back at the cemetery. “I guess I just didn’t know where else to go. I thought maybe if I came back here, where I saw her last, that Josephine might show up. Explain a few things.”

  “Has she? Shown up, I mean?”

  “No. It’s been frustratingly quiet.”

  “And the trees?”

  “I haven’t gotten close enough to find out.”

  Maggie reached over, took my hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I know all of this . . . isn’t what you expected. But it’s better to know, right? The truth will set you free and all that?”

  “I did want answers,” I said. “But I don’t know what to make of the ones I got. Two weeks ago, I was plain ol’ Lainey Styles, and now I’m apparently some all-powerful . . .” I couldn’t say the word out loud. “The truth about my mom and Josephine. All the lies. How am I even supposed to process it all?”

  “Well, step one is to not freak out.” Maggie gave my hand another squeeze.

  “Yeah, but how can I not freak out? It seems easier to completely fall apart than to accept any of this as true.”

  “But it is true. What else could explain all the weird stuff that’s been happening to you?”

  “I know.” I pulled away from Maggie and dropped my head in my hands. “But it shouldn’t be. I had my life all planned out, ya know? Since middle school, I’ve been killing myself to be the best at everything, to be number one. All I ever wanted to do was to get into a good school with a great science program and be on my own, have the opportunity to see and discover the world. I wanted the chance to figure out who I really am. But this?” My voice cracked. “It’s not exactly what I had in mind. . . . It’s not fair.”

  “No, it’s not,” Maggie agreed. “But this is your life now. This is who you are, and you can’t run away from it. You have to face it.”

  My shoulders sagged. The whole story sounded too ridiculous to be real, but there was a ring of absolute truth to Serena’s words. And even stranger than that was the feeling of acquiescence that was gnawing away at me deep down—it was like being reunited with a long-lost friend or finding something valuable you didn’t even realize you had lost. It felt as though a part of me had already accepted the news of my newfound “witch” status without so much as a blink of an eye, while another part of me was convinced I had lost my mind.

  It made me uncomfortable to feel so at war with myself, but I was trying not to let it show. “How are you so calm right now?” I asked Maggie. “You’re handling the news way better than I am.”

  Maggie shrugged. “I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to, Styles. I’m the girl who spends more time with fictional superheroes than I do with actual people, the girl who spent an entire summer learning Elvish, the girl who already believed in magic. It’s not that far-fetched for me, if you think about it. Besides, you’re my best friend and I believe in you.”

  “But what if I really am a . . . witch.” The last word came out in a whisper, and I grimaced.

  “Then you’ll learn to deal with it,” Maggie said. “I think you’re looking at this all wrong. You know, before he was part of the Super-Soldier Project, Steve Rogers was this puny, unimpressive guy who was more likely to break his arm playing checkers than to accomplish anything noteworthy. But then he became freaking Captain America! You get what I’m saying?”

  “Um, yes?”

  Maggie laughed. “God, Styles, you have got to read more comic books.” She leaned forward. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve dreamt of being bitten by a radioactive spider or finding a magical thunder hammer? I’ve spent my whole life wishing to be more than just ordinary. But I’m just me, just Maggie, and that’s probably all I’m ever going to be.” Maggie grabbed my hand again. “But you, Lainey, you get to be anything but ordinary, and maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

  The words settled over me, wrapping around me and covering me with calm reassurance. I smiled. “You know, Mags, even if things go to hell, I’m glad to have you by my side.”

  “Oh, don’t get all emotional on me now,” Maggie chided, but she was smiling too. “I’ve got your back, you know that.”

  “I know. Thank you. I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Well, for starters, you’d be stuck hanging out in a graveyard all by yourself.”

  “It’s not so bad in the daylight.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Maggie said, glancing around. “But you are a witch now, so I can understand if this place speaks to you.”

  I sucked down a gulp of air. Maggie was just teasing me, but it was the first time anyone had actually called me a witch. It was jarring.

  Well, Lainey, you’re gonna have to get used to it sooner or later. I took another deep breath. I’m a witch. I tested the phrase in my mind. It was strange, but not completely wrong.

  It reminded me of the time I bought my first pair of cowboy boots. I remembered pulling the soft-soled boots out of the box and marveling at how the rustic leather looked vintage and worn in all the right places. I’d bought them immediately and worn them out of the store, but that night my feet were sore and blistered. It wasn’t until I’d properly broken in the boots that they fit without pain. Maybe, like the boots, I just needed to give myself some time to get used to the idea—to break it in, so to speak.

  I’m a witch, I tried again. This time, the words didn’t completely jar me. I’m a witch. Better still. I’m a witch. It was getting better every time.

  “I’m a witch,” I whispered under my breath, testing the words on my tongue. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to completely surrende
r, to try and reconcile the two warring sides of myself. Warm energy crackled underneath my skin. “I’m a witch,” I said again, a little louder this time. “I am—”

  “Um, Lainey?” Maggie suddenly interrupted.

  My eyes flew open. “Sorry. I was just trying to—”

  “No,” Maggie interrupted again. “Look.” She pointed over my shoulder.

  Unsure of what to expect, I turned around slowly. At first I didn’t realize what I was supposed to be looking at, but then I gasped.

  The tombstone behind me was a small worn piece of polished stone. It was so old, the inscription of the name was barely visible, and weathering the elements for so many years had coated it in a dark layer of grime. But it wasn’t the stone that stole my breath; it was the rosebush behind it.

  Most of the plants in the cemetery had grown wild, covering the tombstones around them like ivy, while others had simply succumbed to the Georgia heat. This was one of the latter, its withered, brown leaves brittle and lifeless.

  But as I watched, slack-jawed, the rosebush had begun to change. The base of the bush turned green again, and tiny pink buds sprouted from its branches.

  Maggie’s eyes were as wide as saucers, and it took several gulps of air before I could speak.

  “Did I . . .” I trailed off. “Did I do that?” I finally squeaked out.

  Maggie looked back and forth between the rosebush and me. “There’s only one way to find out.” She stood up, pulling me with her, and pushed my hand toward the bush. “Say it again.”

  I nodded, swallowing hard. I leaned forward and touched one of the tiny buds. “I’m a witch,” I whispered.

  Immediately, the bud responded, blossoming into a large pink rose with wavy petals and a darker center. I’d never seen a rose look so alive before. A tiny squeal of both laughter and amazement escaped my lips. Behind me, Maggie had her hand clamped over her mouth.

  “I’m a witch,” I said again, louder and with both hands stretched out over the rosebush. I was still overwhelmed and absolutely terrified by the prospect of the future, but watching as the entire bush began to bloom and teem with life just felt right.