Keeper of the Winds

by Jenna Solitaire

“Next time, Armand,” he shouted, then turned and ran, calling for his men as he went.

  Armand slumped to the ground, his once immaculate suit rumpled and stained.

  Simon and I locked gazes, and he made his way back to me.

  “Ignore him, Keeper. I am your friend.”

  “Simon,” I shouted, trying to be heard above the howling winds. “Take my hand!”

  He reached out and locked his hand around mine. “Jenna, please, you have to stop it!”

  “I know,” I said.

  I reached out to the Board once more. I felt battered and drained now, like I’d been pummeled in an avalanche. “You are not my friend! You are my tool—to use as I see fit!”

  “No!”

  “Yes!” I screamed. “And you will stop the winds—now! These are my friends!”

  Screeching in anger, the Board lashed out, and for a long minute, every tornado in the sky began lowering toward us.

  “NO!” I commanded it. “I choose them!”

  I looked at Simon, who had risked so much and asked only for me to be what I already was. I looked at Armand, who didn’t even know me and had come to my aid. I looked at Tom and Kristen and Father Andrew and I knew the truth.

  “I choose love,” I said aloud.

  “Yes, Jenna,” Simon said, hearing me. “We can choose love and faith.” He paused, and then added, “We always have.”

  His words rang a chord in me, and I knew then that somehow, somewhere or somewhen, we had known each other before. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but it felt good to know that love was possible, even when the entire world around me seemed about to collapse.

  “And you will obey me,” I added. “I am the Keeper of the Winds.”

  Defeated, the Board stopped raging, and replied, “Yes, Keeper.”

  Above us, the tornadoes reversed themselves, climbing back up into the sky. In minutes, the winds had stopped completely, and the clouds went with them, revealing a full moon and a bright blanket of spring stars.

  The quiet was almost as noisy as the wind had been, and Simon stared at me with awe in his eyes. “You did it,” he whispered.

  I shook my head, looking at the devastation around us. Broken crates and slivers of sheet metal and parts littered the floor along with the bodies of those who hadn’t escaped my wrath and the Board’s magic. “No,” I said. “We did it.”

  Simon and I waited for the emergency people to arrive—fire trucks, police cruisers and ambulances rushed into the area as soon as the winds died down. The sirens, flashlights and rushing men and women were enough to make me want to run and hide, but Simon calmed me down. “We have to play along with this charade, Jenna,” he said. “At least until we can get out of here. Just follow my lead.”

  As battered and tired as all of us were, Simon’s story was simple enough: Kristen, Tom, Simon and I were driving by the area when the storm hit and decided to take shelter in the warehouse. What we didn’t know was that some kind of criminal activity—he gestured to Peraud’s men, including the unconscious Tanner—was going on. From what little we heard before the storm hit, it appeared that Father Andrew had been kidnapped and was going to be ransomed. Fighting broke out when we tried to escape at the height of the storm, and Tom and Father Andrew were injured.

  I watched as both of them were loaded onto stretchers and into the back of an ambulance. As she walked by, Kristen gave me a small smile and whispered, “You did it right, Jenna. Good for you.”

  Watching them load Tom into the ambulance, I didn’t feel like I’d done much of anything right, but Kristen had proven beyond a doubt that she was my friend, too, so I nodded at her and tried my best to smile back. She climbed into the ambulance with Tom and I watched it start to drive away.

  Father Andrew, it appeared, had only sustained minor injuries—lots of bruises and cuts, as well as a dislocated shoulder—but the paramedics were able to bring him around quickly.

  Tom had not fared nearly as well. He was still unconscious, and from the way they strapped him down, I thought maybe he had a broken neck … or worse.

  The police asked us a few more questions, but they were in a hurry to wrap up here and move on to other areas of the city that had been damaged during the storm. One of them said that if we thought of anything else, we should give them a call. Otherwise, they’d be in touch.

  As the ambulances pulled out, I picked up the Board and put it back in its case. I still heard it calling softly to me, but now it was muted and under control. I slid it into Tom’s backpack and added the journal, vowing silently to myself to figure out exactly how the Board worked and how to control it.

  Then I turned to Simon and said, “Drive me to the hospital?”

  He nodded. “Sure,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  We stepped out of the ruins of the warehouse and into a surprisingly warm early spring night.

  Miller’s Crossing could not boast of many things, but it had a good hospital staffed by solid doctors. When Simon and I got there, however, they were completely overwhelmed. Between the injuries and destruction from the night before, and now this storm, the staff was stretched to the limit. Apparently, a small plane had also tried to leave the area and been caught in the horrendous winds and crashed, killing everyone on board when it slammed into a small apartment building, injuring dozens of others. For once the usual hospital scents of disinfectant and floor cleaner were overwhelmed by the smells of the injured. It wasn’t a pleasant trade.

  It took a while for us to even figure out where Father Andrew and Tom had been taken. When we did, I told Simon that we should see Father Andrew first.

  We found him propped up in bed, sharing a room with two other patients, and reading the bedside Bible. He saw us and smiled. “Jenna!” he said. “Simon! It’s good to see you both alive and well.”

  “Father,” I said, taking his hand. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” he said, “so long as I don’t shrug my shoulder too much. Otherwise, it’s mostly damage to my pride.” He winked at Simon. “I’m not the battler I once was in my youth.”

  “You?” I asked, incredulous. “I can’t imagine you fighting with anyone!”

  “Simon can,” he said. “Can’t you, my friend?”

  Simon grinned. “As I said, growing up in a Catholic orphanage is tough,” he replied. “But we did okay, didn’t we?”

  “Yes, we did,” Father Andrew replied.

  I felt my jaw hinge open and Simon reached out and lifted it back up with his finger. “Yes, Jenna,” he said. “Father Andrew spent some time at the same orphanage I did. He was quite a bit older than I was and was one of the first kids to beat me up.” He laughed. “I admired him.”

  Father Andrew chuckled. “You turned out all right, Simon,” he said. “I see you managed to hold on to your birthright.”

  Simon touched the coin necklace lightly and smiled. “If you couldn’t take it from me in the orphanage, then no evil sorcerer or conjured tornadoes could.”

  “No,” Father Andrew replied. “I suppose not. Then his face grew serious.”Jenna, I don’t know what all is really going on—Simon can’t or won’t tell me, and that’s his prerogative—but I can tell you that he’s a good man and won’t harm you.”

  I nodded. “I know,” I said. “But that doesn’t make all this any easier to swallow.”

  “You and Simon are a lot alike, you know,” the priest said. “Both of you have lost your faith in so many ways.” He sighed, and then held up a hand before either of us could respond. “It’s possible that if you work together, you both may find it again.”

  Not wanting to say more or dash his hopes, I just nodded, and Simon smiled, holding out his hand and shaking with his old friend.

  “Now get going,” Father Andrew said. “I’m tired and could use a nap. Plus, I suspect you want to go find Tom.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Rest well, Father. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “The Lord protects the faithful, Jenna,” he sai
d. “Even in the darkest of hours.”

  “Does he?” I asked. “Even then?”

  “Especially then,” he said. “Take care of yourself, Jenna, and hold fast to the light of the truth.” He looked at Simon. “You’ll be leaving soon, I suspect?”

  “Tomorrow or the day after,” he said. “As soon as she’s ready to go.”

  “Me?” I asked. “Where am I going?”

  Simon grinned. “I’ll explain it to you later, okay?” He took Father Andrew’s hand again. “Be well, my friend. God keep you safe.”

  “You, too, Simon,” Father Andrew said.

  “Goodnight, Father,” I said, and we stepped quietly out of the room, leaving him to his much needed rest.

  The hallways were chaotic, with staff rushing everywhere as we made our way up to the ICU where Tom was. Kristen stood outside his room, anxiously looking in through the glass, but she must have seen us coming, because she turned to greet us.

  I gave her a hug, holding tight to her and feeling her incredible warmth. “How is he?” I asked.

  A frown marred her features. “It’s not good,” she said, trying not to cry. “Both … both of his legs are broken, along with some ribs. And … they say he’s paralyzed, Jenna. He took a good blow to the head, too, and he’s in a coma. They don’t know … they don’t know if he’ll wake up or not.”

  “Oh, Kristen,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault, Jenna,” she said, sniffling. “He wanted to go with you.”

  “I should have figured it out faster,” I said, trying to hold back my own tears. “I should have protected him better.”

  “He would never have stood for it,” she said. “He liked being your hero.”

  “And he is,” I said. “He’s also my best friend.”

  “I know,” she said. “And you are his.”

  Without warning, a shrill beeping sound came from Tom’s room. Several nurses rushed past us, and one of them shouted, “Page the doctor, he’s coding.”

  “What … what does that mean?” Kristen whispered.

  I didn’t answer her because I knew that she already knew the answer. I felt my stomach clench and turn to ice. My best friend was dying … and it was all my fault.

  The beeping sound changed tones as the doctor ran past.

  From inside the room, I heard a nurse yell, “He’s flatlining. Get that cart going!”

  Kristen reached out blindly for my hand and I took it. We were going to lose him … and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

  I turned around to look for Simon and he was gone. “Where … ?” My voice trailed off as I looked through the window into Tom’s hospital room. Somehow, in the midst of the chaos, Simon had found a way through the nurses and doctors.

  They didn’t even seem to notice him, but I couldn’t imagine how they missed him. He … glowed … with an inner light of some kind. Everything … slowed down, and while I could feel Kristen’s grip in mine, could see the doctor and the nurses moving and talking, it was like watching time pass one very long second at a time.

  Simon reached out and grasped Tom’s slack hand, and closed his eyes. His lips moved, and I knew he was praying. Praying for Tom and for a miracle of some kind.

  I wanted to pray, too, but … something inside held me back. I could only watch in amazement as another light, silver and bright, came down from the ceiling.

  The hospital staff didn’t even blink, and Simon continued to hold Tom’s hand and pray with his eyes shut tight. Everyone kept working, and I vaguely heard the sound of the doctor yelling, “Clear!” as they tried to jolt Tom back into this world.

  The light drifted down and settled over Simon and then … expanded outward to cover Tom’s still form.

  “Clear!” the doctor yelled again.

  The silver light—presence? I wondered—grew brighter at the same moment, and everything sped up again.

  “He’s back, doctor,” one of the nurses said. Then she turned and noticed Simon standing there, holding Tom’s hand. “How’d you get in here?” she asked.

  Simon didn’t answer, he just backed quietly out of the room, the glow surrounding him fading away even as he moved.

  “Kristen,” I whispered. “Did you see that?”

  Smiling, crying, she said, “Yes, thank the goddess. They brought him back.”

  She hadn’t seen it, then. “Simon prayed for him,” I said.

  “He did?” she asked as Simon stepped out of the room. “You did?” she said to him.

  He looked tired and careworn as he gazed back into the room where Tom was now sleeping. “Yes,” he said softly. “I prayed for him. It was the least I could do.”

  “Thank you,” Kristen said. “I’m not a Christian, but thank you.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Simon replied, then he gently took my arm. “Come on, Jenna,” he said. “Tom looks like he’s in good hands now.”

  I followed him outside, where for a long time both of us said nothing.

  “Simon,” I finally managed, “How did you do that?”

  He looked at me, his head cocked to one side in confusion. “Do what?” he asked.

  “Heal Tom like that?”

  Simon laughed. “Heal him? What are you talking about? I only offered a prayer—actually the Sacrament of the Sick.”

  “Simon, you healed him,” I insisted. “I saw the whole thing.”

  “Jenna, you’ve been under a lot of strain lately, and we don’t have any idea of the precise nature of the Board’s powers. I did no such thing.”

  I didn’t know why but either Simon had no memory of what happened in Tom’s hospital room or he didn’t want to believe it. Either way, I had seen the truth. Simon was a true man of God … and he’d somehow lost his way. Another mystery to be figured out.

  “Okay,” I said. “But it was pretty amazing to see him come back like that.”

  “Faith,” Simon said, smiling softly. “Combined with good medical technology. Together, they can work miracles.”

  “I’m beginning to think there may be more to faith than technology,” I muttered. “Maybe a lot more.”

  Simon shrugged. “Let’s go see about some food and some rest,” he said. “We can talk more about it tomorrow.”

  We found some bad food in the cafeteria and tried to sleep in the lounge while we waited for news about Tom’s condition. Kristen wandered in from time to time, looking like a ghost, but keeping her vigil.

  Around mid-morning, Tom’s doctor gave us the news: “I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” he said. “We were sure he was gone, and then he just … came back. There’s still the paralysis to deal with, but … in time, well, he’ll do fine.”

  “Can we see him?” Kristen asked.

  The doctor nodded, but said, “Keep it brief, okay? He’s going to be groggy for a couple of days and needs his rest.” We promised to do so, and he walked out of the room, shaking his head.

  We went into Tom’s room and Kristen and I stood on either side of Tom’s bed. Simon stood in the doorway, looking more priest-like and somber than ever.

  Tom’s eyes flitted open and he did his best to smile up at us. “Glad to see you’re all alive,” he whispered.

  “Which one of us?” I asked. “I almost got you killed.”

  “Yes, but I would have won,” he said, his voice a mere croak.

  “Won?” I asked. “How?”

  “You bought … our last coffee.”

  Remembering a long ago conversation between us, I started laughing. His sense of humor was still intact anyway.

  Kristen said, “I don’t get it.”

  I quickly explained that Tom and I had a long-running bet between us that on the day one of us died, the other would have bought the last round at the coffee shop, preventing the other from evening out the debt. “I said there was no way that could happen, and he said it was practically guaranteed.” I shrugged. “Guess there is such a thing as destiny after all.”

 
“There sure is,” Kristen said. “Right now, his fate is to rest. It will be days and days before he gets out of here, and I’m not bringing him a coffee!”

  Tom tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a dying cat than anything else. He grimaced with the pain. His eyes were cloudy with it, but he stared at me intensely. “You’ve got to go now, don’t you?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Yes, I think so. Simon hasn’t made it all clear yet, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be leaving for awhile.”

  “Stay in touch?” he asked.

  “Always,” I said. I gestured at his backpack. “I’ve got your Blackberry.”

  “Figures,” he said.

  “Take care, Tom,” I said. “And thanks. Thanks for everything and for being my friend. You are a hero.”

  “No,” he said. “I just love you.”

  “I know,” I said. “Take care of him, Kristen, and yourself, too.”

  “I will,” she said. “You, too.”

  Feeling a familiar set of eyes on me, I glanced at the door where Simon stood, waiting for me patiently. “I better go,” I said. “My life, I think, isn’t completely my own anymore.”

  “No one’s ever is, Jenna,” Tom whispered. He was starting to fall asleep and Kristen held his hand. “We all belong to each other.”

  I smiled and then slipped out of the room to where Simon waited.

  Together, we left the hospital and he drove me home.

  The ride home was quiet, neither of us saying anything. Simon walked me to my front door, then paused and said my name.

  I turned back to face him, my hand on the doorknob. “I’m tired, Simon,” I said. “No more for tonight, okay?”

  “I know, Jenna,” he said. “I only have two things to say.”

  “What?” I asked, dreading that he might say words that he couldn’t take back.

  “I’m proud of you,” he said. “Armand told me that he thought you would make an excellent Keeper.”

  “And?” I said.

  “You need to be careful,” he reminded me. “The Board is extremely powerful and it is already calling to the next Board. If you listen, you might even be able to hear it answering.”