Shadows of the Keeper

by Karey Brown

  “We must hide you.”

  “I refuse re-imprisonment!”

  “I wouldn’t do that to you. You were a fool to have allowed yourself to have been placed in there in the first place. Don’t you ever allow anyone else to convince you to do something simply because it might keep me safe. If your job is really to protect me, you better start listening to whatever sixth sense you possess, not some damn threat someone makes you.”

  “It is for me to obey your command.”

  Emily gave a shake of her head. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Was it painful, when they changed you or whatever they did to place you in that weapon?”

  “Only when I had to kill those whom I’d assumed were comrades, their treachery no longer hidden with my new found powers.”

  “Were there many?”

  “Yes. To serve you, there was no higher honor. Many would slay any who stood in their way for such a position. That act alone proved their unworthiness.”

  “Jeeze. I am uber glad I didn’t live during those times.”

  “But, you did.”

  Emily waved her hand. “You know what I mean. If I free you, you are forbidden to kill anyone residing in or around this castle. Understood?”

  “Should any attack you, my lady, it will no longer be your command to make.”

  “Oh, and you’ll force me to start swinging you at my enemies?”

  Raspy chuckling. “You have much to re-learn. No, my hilt does not have to rest within your grasp in order for me to defend you.”

  “Seriously?” Okay, it did fly past her head of its own accord. Something else clicked. “What do you know about Lumynari?”

  “You lack knowledge of them as well?”

  “I’m not standing here, testing you.”

  “I am not so sure if I appreciate this sarcasm you use in place of a simple answer.”

  “Adjust.”

  “Very well. Lumynari are Shadow Masters—death warriors existing leagues below where we stand, as well as other locations throughout this world. Caves, deep shadows beyond the forest line, and in your worst nightmares, these are the places they enjoy gathering. Whatever your fears, this is what they use against you in their arena of amusement. They bask in it.”

  “Yes, I’ve been told that much. Dezenial, what of him?”

  “Ah, so, he still weaves throughout your life?”

  “What the hell does that mean? Who is he, Blade?”

  “You are upset.”

  “I have powerful issues with riddles and half-truths.”

  “You always have. Prince Dezenial—“

  “Prince?”

  “Yes. He is the son of both Hades and Shadow. She was once a beautiful goddess to behold before madness made her the evil entity she is today. Before, she was kind, gentle, and most pleasing to the eye.”

  “You said that already.”

  “Do you at least know of Aunsgar’s twin?”

  “Hades. Mythological Hades?” Emily pinched the bridge of her nose. “Twin? Yeah, Garreck filled me in a bit.”

  “Aunsgar’s twin crossed over and joined the Lumynari. Following a royal path where her magicks came with rules and consequences, she enjoyed the black arts and destruction wrought by such evil. Arda, Aunsgar’s twin, was your grandmother. Forgive me, Aurelia’s grandmother. Aurelia’s own mother was Lumynari.”

  “And Drakar?” Emily whispered.

  “How do you come by these names, but lack knowledge as to whom they were?”

  “Are. They still exist.”

  “Yes, Dezenial would. He’s a god. I think you keep secrets. Very well. Drakar was Aurelia’s half-brother, hundreds of years her senior. His father was a wood Elf prisoner, given to Lady Dulinia by her mother, Princess Ardra, for breeding purposes. Drakar is still alive, and still very much hunting The Keeper.”

  “Jeeze. I think Aurelia got seriously screwed by everyone.”

  “If I correctly understand what your words possibly mean, yes, she did. As for Ardra, she had turned on her own, and was not above enticing travelers into thinking she still belonged to the mountain realm.” Blade quivered. “We are about to be discovered.” On cue, muffled running and crunching of snow could be heard above them. Emily charged the sword, wrapped her hands around the black hilt and yanked him free of the door.

  Heat surged from hilt, through her hand and down her arm. White light engulfed her body.

  “Close your eyes, Lady Emily. We must re-forge the bond.”

  Emily complied. She swayed as the weapon grew to blinding brilliance, penetrating her closed lids. Vibrating in sync with the strange weapon, her ears hummed as if standing upon electric currents, and the voices . . . so many male voices weaved within her mind, whispering, chanting, speaking, their words garbled, yet she understood all they said. At times, their voices became one, harmonizing. And then, it was over. Humming in her mind, vibrating of her body, light of blade all faded. Gone. Emily dared open her eyes. She swayed, caught herself against the door and gave herself a moment to regain balance. “Do I even wanna known?”

  “I do not know of this expression you speak.”

  “What . . . did you do?”

  “The voices you heard were our Elders. I have searched your mind. You require much training in order to re-master your ability with my blade and its power.”

  “Yippee. You and Urkani can join forces in my torture.”

  “Ah, but unlike Urkani, I will slice the throat of your enemy long before the Elf realizes your life is in danger.”

  “You are never to touch Dezenial.” What made her blurt that out?

  “Our Elders will wish otherwise.”

  “Touch him, and I’ll have the smithy melt you down.”

  Blade chuckled. Abruptly, he silenced. “Outlanders join Elves. The air crackles with alarm.”

  “I’ll place you under my bed.”

  “Once, I was given a place of dignity—“

  “In a box? Buried?”

  “I concede to your thoughtfulness regarding my new resting area.”

  “Thought you might. Well, come on then. No way am I going to make it back up all those stairs before they realize I’m no longer in my room, let alone, in bed.”

  “It will not be wise to carry a torch. In their search, they will see the flame’s glow long before you realize they’re upon us.”

  “Except, you don’t have to worry about breaking a leg while traveling in the dark.”

  Blade illuminated, but in such a manner as to light the way without casting out too far ahead.

  “Okay, points for you.”

  “I promise not to gloat,” Blade hissed in his odd voice. “Just quench my thirst, and soon. It has been a very long time since I’ve had anything to drink.”

  “I’m sure we can find ale.”

  “Blood, Lady Emily, blood is what I require.”

  “But, of course. Pfff.”

  “Halt your ascension, my lady. No longer do we dwell alone.” Blade extinguished.

  “Can you tell who it is?”

  “A what would be more appropriate. A furred beast of four legs.”

  Emily grimaced. “Rats?”

  “Mouser.”

  “Aedan.”

  “Lord Aedan?”

  “I don’t know about any ‘lord’ madness, but, yes, one and the same.”

  “He is even older than Prince Aunsgar and your Outlander.”

  “You will enlighten me when this is over. Aedan looks to be in his twenties.”

  “The beast comes this way.”

  “Know how to scare away a cat that can change into a man?”

  “Lord Aedan has mastered his gifts.”

  “Why do you refer to him as ‘lord’, but for Broc, you drip contempt and refer to him as Outlander, which, I know for a fact, he hates being called.”

  “The son of a Fey king, Lord Aedan far outranks any of the mortals.”

  “Fey? As in fairy? None of that stuff is true. King?”

  “Hmmmm. You
converse with a sword and have obviously witnessed Lord Aedan change from mouser to man, yet doubt something as simple as the existence of Fey. Curious.”

  “Better think of something fast or Aedan’s gonna be here, and they’re not going to jump for joy over your resurrection.”

  “Too weak.”

  “How do I strengthen you?”

  “Blood.”

  “I had to ask. What, you want me to slip my throat?”

  “Your finger will do well enough.”

  “Get us out of this and then I’ll feed you.”

  “I will have to leave you in darkness, my lady.”

  She squeezed his hilt. “You better not hurt Aedan, Blade, or I’ll make good my threat, and melt you down.”

  “Impossible without Elvish blue fires—“

  Emily swirled her hand over his hilt. Leather caught fire. Before damaging, she blew the tiny flame out.

  “The beast will simply be redirected.”

  “Glad we’re of an accord.” Emily swept strands of hair out of her face. “What now, throw you like a spear?”

  “Banish the thought! I possess ability to stand.”

  Snorting, Emily released her hold. “Blade, I really hate the dark.”

  “Close your eyes. If you keep them open, your head will feel as if it swells. Do not move. You have yet to master your senses. I will return.”

  “Seems there’s a whole lot I’ve failed to master, especially patience.”

  Silence and solitude. Never a problem. Except when coupled with pitch black. What a large presence Blade commanded, not appreciated until he was gone. She analyzed some of his revelations until echoing screams made her flinch, scattering her thoughts. Not too far from where she remained rooted, O’Shay mewled then hissed. Seconds of silence passed, then the unmistakable sounds of feet running atop stones followed by cursing. Emily grinned. Aedan obviously assumed she had stumbled and screamed, by the sound effects Blade was creating.

  Time passed. Pitch black. Alone. What the hell? Where was Blade? Walls pressed in. Opening her eyes, she looked down behind her. Nothing but an abyss. Shuffling her foot in front of her, she felt for the next step. Steadying herself against the roughened stone innards of the castle, she dared take the first step. Unannounced, silver light bloomed.

  “I commanded you not to move.”

  “Yeah, well, my report cards used to say: does not follow directions. Besides, you’re male. I have a very difficult time obeying your gender. Sorry.”

  “Some things fail to change.”

  “Get me out of this tunnel, Blade. I’m serious about the dark. I’m about to bring down every stone by screaming my head off.”

  “Lord Aedan hunts in the nude. Mayhaps the dark is a good thing?”

  “Oh, look who’s acquired a sense of humor. Get.me.outa.here!”

  They began to move along.

  “Of all the beasts, he opts to change into a feline.”

  Emily grinned. “His mother is a falcon.”

  “I never did understand the Fey.”

  At last, the top of the winding stone stairs came into view. Emily doubled over, gulping. “I think it would be better if you remain hidden in this alcove.”

  “The naked human returns.”

  “Place yourself under this stone bench. None will see you. I don’t think it’s safe for you in Broc’s chamber, which is where I’m housed right now.”

  “You swore oath to a feeding.”

  Emily snorted. “Aren’t I being searched for?”

  “I could distract him again, more permanently?”

  “You are very difficult.”

  “It is from milady that I acquire such skill.”

  “Shut up, Blade. Will it hurt?”

  “Put out your hand, Lady Emily, and, no, I would never permit you to suffer pain at my expense.”

  Hesitantly, Emily complied. Blade remained softly illuminated, turned on his side and skimmed her index finger. Resting his tip against her finger, the sound of lapping commenced.

  “If I wake up in the dead of night with the uncontrollable urge to suck blood from someone’s neck, I’m hammering your edges until blunt.”

  Lapping ceased. “Why would you have a desire to commit such a vile act as to drink from a human’s neck?”

  “You are the epitome of an oxymoron.”

  “I am sated. For the moment. Thank you.”

  Emily swiped her hand across her jeans. “I have to get back. I’m about to tell doozy amounts of lies and you’re to blame.”

  “I stand ready for punishment.”

  “Hide, Blade. Oh, and Blade?”

  “Yes, milady?”

  “Attack none. Even if they enter my chamber through this secret passage, do you understand?”

  “I will not forfeit my duty to protect you. In that, I answer to The Elders. But, I will be wary of who enters your chamber before I see fit to slice their neck.”

  Emily stared at the sword for long moments. He held many answers, of this, she was sure. “We’ll have to continue our history lessons.”

  “Yes. You have much to reacquaint yourself with before the next battle.”

  “Battle?”

  “These tunnels fill rapidly with humans and Elves. We will speak of it another time.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Emily!”

  “I’m here!”

  As if thrown, Broc erupted onto the terrace. He did not seem heartened by the sight of her reclining on a very modern sun lounger, her arms folded, warding off the cold.

  “Must have dozed. Why are you shouting? Has something happened?”

  His eyes darkened, brows drawing together. “We could not find you.”

  “But, I’ve been right here.”

  “So it would seem.”

  “You look pissed.”

  “Clothed and not in bed where I left you.”

  She stood, hunched and rubbed her arms vigorously. “I needed fresh air. Cabin fever. Only, I think I’ve been out here too long. Freezing.”

  “I will take you riding, on the morrow.”

  “Horses are not what I had in mind.” She made to move past him.

  “What happened to your trews?”

  “Trews?” Following his gaze, she looked down, brushing at her seat. Dirt showered the floor. “Shit!”

  “Aye.”

  “I don’t know, Broc. Guess I grabbed a filthy pair, anxious to get out of that bed. It’s been a long time since anyone has allowed me any further than the restroom—garderobe—and even longer since I’ve been allowed to dress in anything other than the massive shirt of yours. It was rather dark in there, just candlelight, because you have this thing about electricity, and I just wanted air—“

  Broc moved swiftly, placing a forefinger across her lips. “You’re nervous, milady. Tell me.”

  “I was asleep. You barged in, yelling. Kind of a freakish way to wake up, somebody screaming as if there’s a fire.” Her eyes lacked their usual flash of defiance. They darted everywhere but upon his face. His gaze narrowed, black orbs glittering.

  “I’m also hungry for something other than broth. I’m liable to eat the cat!”

  “I will allow you to accompany me to the hall for dining.”

  Emily curtseyed. “I am forever in your debt, milord.”

  He snorted at her sarcasm.

  “I would like to change into clean clothes, if you don’t mind.”

  “Yes, and you may wish to discover a brush to free your hair of those twigs,” Broc said, pivoting upon booted heel and storming back into her chamber. She had the grace to flinch when oak door slammed in the wake of his exit.

  * * * * *

  “I’ve been informed the lass has been found?”

  “Call off the hunting party.”

  Garreck mulled over his laird’s temper. “One would assume to find you pleased she was simply in chambers.”

  “Aye, that would be the case, if trees and such grew atop the terrace she lounged
on.”

  “Mi’lord?”

  “She claimed ta’ be napping on the terrace.”

  “ ‘Tis a bit cold for that.”

  “Weather is the least of my concerns.”

  “Chess, milord?”

  Without warning, Broc halted. Garreck plowed into him. “I am not playing games,” Broc disentangled himself from his captain, “of questions and answers. Lady Emily’s hair is filled with twigs and brambles.”

  “From the terrace?”

  “From the terrace.”

  “But, nothing grows upon the terrace, save for mold—I think intentionally to incite Maeve.”

  Broc’s dark brows narrowed. “It would seem the woman has a penchant for lying.”

  “Maeve?”

  “Emily, fool!”

  “Ah.”

  “Ah?” Broc flung an arm out in disgust. “What is this ‘ah’?”

  “Ah, you have entered a new level of your, uh, guardianship over the lass. Ah, at last. Ah, when a woman holds her secrets, you find you are verra much endowed with her life, no longer on the outside looking in.” Garreck grinned. “Hence, her need ta’ lie. A bit of pretending indifference always loosens their tongues.”

  “I’m thinking a sword to throat will still yours!”

  Garreck’s lips trembled with the need to smile.

  Broc loudly exhaled. “Clearly, I’m dealing with a bog-brained twit.” He slowed his speech. “She claimed to have fallen asleep whilst breathing fresh air upon the terrace, yet her hair is filled with brambles. So, where was she? Why the need to lie? How did she arrive anywhere that twigs could tangle in her hair, if she didn’t pass any of us in mi’ hall?” Broc moved until he was nearly nose-to-nose with Garreck. “I checked that terrace several times.” His teeth clenched. “In my fear, I checked several times.” Broc spun away with such rage, Garreck waited until his laird had gained several paces lead before following down the long corridor. Why would Lady Emily lie about something as trivial as taking a stroll outdoors? And how had she slipped past them? Garreck stopped. Hair filled with twigs would be no easy accomplishment with the entire countryside blanketed under several feet of snow.

  Realization rocked him. Garreck broke into a run. “Mi’lord!”

  * * * * *

  She would apologize for keeping secrets. She’d level with him about Blade. A valid reason must exist for the sword to have been buried. Maybe it was best for her not to second guess in areas far exceeding her knowledge. All she wanted was peace to remain between them, and maybe, just maybe, he would relent and see to helping her eventual return to Texas. Home. She’d had enough of this adventure.