Shadows of the Keeper

by Karey Brown

  “Burning?”

  “Has this changed as well?”

  “If I understand your meaning, yes. We bury our dead.”

  “Why would you do such a thing?”

  “I don’t know, Blade, just seems we shuffle our feet and follow. Is it true Aurelia trained with these supposed Elders?”

  “Thirteen years. Pendaran was her mentor for weaponry and endurance. Xyn taught her magicks and how to control such power.”

  “Xyn?”

  “Over all Elders and Pendaran’s father.”

  “Family man. Cozy. Why didn’t the Elders protect Aurelia’s father from Drakar? For that matter, Aurelia herself and Broc’s clan?”

  “Lady Emily, I was not present when Aurelia’s final hour came to pass. I do know it is part of the reason Xyn and the others left our home world. Ability to choose one’s path is of the very essence of life.”

  “A chicken shit excuse to remain oblivious when one of your own is about to be murdered.”

  “I do apologize for not understanding many of your words.”

  “You’ll get used to them.”

  “My lady, I will not always reside in this Elvish metal. Has Urkani taught you nothing of who you are?”

  “He seemed fixated on my physical abilities.”

  “It is uncanny how you are the twin of dear Aurelia, yet—“

  “I am not Aurelia,” Emily snapped. “I’ve learned more of what the people were like, the laws of the time and their language. Then there’s sword training, God help me, knife tossing, which is more like tossing a sword, the size of that damn dagger—“

  “Your chamber has been entered.”

  “You already told me that.”

  “Once, you could see through walls.”

  Emily smirked. “Once, you resided in a box.”

  “Prince Aunsgar joins your Outlander.”

  “He’s hardly mine.”

  “I detect it is he that you wish to escape?”

  Emily pressed her lips together.

  “We will change the direction of this discussion.”

  “And he’s wise. Order now, and we’ll even through in the scabbard, no additional costs.” Emily rolled her eyes, then moved away and peered down a very dark corridor. “During your scouting around, did you happen to see a way out of this mausoleum?”

  “Several, though a few have obviously been long forgotten.”

  “Then one of those would be our best bet. What is he doing now?”

  “Searching.”

  “For?”

  “Do you test my ability? I can see him. I cannot see into his mind.”

  “Think they’ll figure out I’m right on the other side of the room?”

  “Aunsgar scrutinizes the tapest—he’s moving it aside now!”

  Emily took off running. “We have to get out of here!

  “I discovered a secret room,” Blade announced, keeping up with her.

  Emily stopped. “More secret than these tunnels?”

  “Oh, I imagine it is a place they have forgotten. Take my hilt, Lady Emily, allow me to be your light and to guide you. I have been forged to protect you, and only you. You must get over your fear of me.”

  “I’m so not afraid of you.”

  “Grasp my hilt.” Blade swiveled around, expecting his mistress to comply.

  “God, I’m going to regret this.” Boldly, Emily latched onto the black hilt.

  “I wish to breathe, milady.”

  “You breathe?”

  “I drink and speak.”

  “Would you like to discover excreting on yourself as well?”

  Blade vibrated. “I will work on my sarcasm. Garreck has entered your chambers. He speaks rapidly, pointing to his hair and the tapestry. Aunsgar rushes from the room!”

  Emily chuckled. “They’ve figured out the twigs in my hair came from the hidden garden where I found you. Shit. Get a move on, Blade. We’ve run out of time.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Blade surged, rounded a bend and dove into a dark, chilly alcove. Again, there were stairs, this time ascending. Emily groaned. All the cardiovascular exercise she’d procrastinated against in the past year would be completed in a single day. “Blade, I can’t see.”

  “I told you to trust me. If you would but close your eyes, you would no longer need your feet.”

  “I can’t fly, fool.”

  “I can carry you.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Kidding? Ah, to jest. No, milady, I do not jest in a time of running and hiding.”

  “I run because of the pace you have set.”

  “But, of course.”

  “What’s that noise?” Emily released Blade and grabbed her knees where she bent over, mouth hanging open. Air.

  “You pant like banthooins climbing Mt. Grwenwood to hide from the hunt. Perchance that is what fills your hearing?”

  “What did you just compare me to?”

  “You are out of practice.”

  Emily swiped her forehead. “Are any of them following yet?”

  “The Outlanders have entered the tunnels. Broc glowers. He is no fool. He feels your presence.”

  “Why do you keep calling him an Outlander?”

  “They were savages, once upon a time.”

  “Well, they’re Forest Lords now, or, Picts, if you listen to our idiot historians.” Doubled-over, gasping for air, Emily straightened and leaned against the rough wall. She looked down, the way they’d come. An abyss.

  “Carrying you, we will make better time.”

  Emily waved her hand. “Sure . . . whatever you say.” She clutched his hilt and closed her eyes. Immediately weightless, she was pulled upward, floating. It was like being in a dream. Somehow, Blade pulled her forward at whizzing speeds, never crashing her into walls, nor lowering her enough that her boots scuffed stairs. She could feel the stairwell curving, and still they surged forward. What the hell had Broc been thinking when he’d built this castle? All these tunnels. Hideouts?

  They stopped. Gently, she was lowered to her feet. He illuminated very softly, allowing her light. “Where are we?”

  “Several paces from a door. It will take some maneuvering, but you will be able to get it open.”

  “A sword dying to get into a room. Who knew?”

  “You will be grateful of my capacity to have instincts and to be able to act upon them.”

  “Yes, such as breaking and entering. Awesome, Blade.”

  “Let us get inside. The furred one has joined the search.”

  “Search?”

  “What humans do when they misplace something.”

  “I’m hardly lost.” Emily stopped herself from stomping towards the iron door. No need to have Blade’s ego swell by making it obvious he’s annoying. “Think they’ll really find us, way up here?” Cold air skittered towards her, whispering a foulness she could both smell and taste.

  “What is that?”

  Blade swiveled around. “I sense nothing other than those filling these peculiar tunnels. Never have I been in a castle that boasts such architecture. Even here, in this room there will be another door leading to another tunnel.”

  “Bad vibes, Blade. Something doesn’t feel right. I’m learning the hard way to listen to the little voices in my head.”

  “What do they tell you, these voices?”

  “Well, first they mention my having conversations with a sword are a sure sign I’ve lost my frickin’ mind. And secondly, that something other than Broc hunts for me.”

  Several moments passed in silence. “We are alone.”

  “Maybe it’s ghosts.”

  “I would sense them,” Blade stated.

  “Really?”

  “I far exceed your human abilities.”

  “I can see why they put you in a box.”

  A ringed knocker with an iron plate imitated a doorknob. Opening jerkily, Emily gave several brutal shoves before it groaned open enough for the two of them to slip insi
de. “I don’t like the dark, Blade.” She waved the air in front of her. “Nor the stench of closed-forever rooms. This mustiness is making my nose hairs curl.”

  Blade’s light bloomed. “Hurry, milady, and close the door and then I will shine brighter for you to see by.”

  It required the same jerking motions to close the old door. A wooden beam stood ready to drop across it, keeping intruders out. What exactly had this room been? Grunting, lifting it and eyeing Blade for his lack of help, she succeeding in dropping the heavy beam into the grasp of two protruding iron hooks. Pushing down, it seemed the aged iron would hold, though the rotted beam might prove a failure. Task complete, she turned to examine her new surroundings. Round tower room. Not much larger than her bedroom back home. Home. Twinges of melancholy extinguished her rage and left her deeply saddened. That duplex seemed so stinkin’ far away as if to no longer exist. If she hadn’t had the foresight to always pay six months in advance . . . her belongings would, by now, be out in the street. Still, she was positive she’d return to no utilities, everything shut off due to her not being around to make payments. HOA fees were paid in advance, gah, her refrigerator would be filled with rotten—

  “You must find the amulet, then we will continue this suicide mission of yours.”

  “Your support is daunting. What amulet?”

  “In the trunk, milady. Open the trunk.”

  Emily turned in a slow circle. Dozens of various sized trunks lay askew. “Which one?”

  “You decide.”

  “I don’t have time for this.”

  “I will wait.”

  “You missed my point.”

  “Feel, Lady Emily. You use your eyes too much. What if you lacked sight? Lumynari are notorious for burning out their prisoners’ eyes.”

  “What the bloody hell do Lumynari have to do with this?”

  “You will battle them.”

  She almost plopped down, right there, on the God-only-knew-what-covered-the-filthy-floor. “How do you know this?” Her voice sounded tiny, even to her own ears.

  Blade’s tone gentled. “As I could sense your return and your presence, do you not think those having hunted you for centuries will also know you’ve returned?”

  “Well, shit. Looks like Butthead Broc might have been on to something.”

  “They fear revealing too much will overwhelm you. In this, they have failed you more than you can realize. You should have been fully trained. Instead, they’ve succeeded in leaving you as helpless as a newborn bairn.”

  “In all fairness, Blade, I wouldn’t have believed a word of it, not at first. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’m conversing with a sword.”

  “The trunk, milady?”

  Nervously, she ran her hands through her hair. “Okay. How am I supposed to figure out which of these has this bauble you want?”

  Silence.

  Exasperated, Emily closed her eyes and held out her hands. “Marco.”

  “Marco?”

  “A game played when I was kid. In the pool.”

  “This new world I find myself in is very complex.”

  Emily’s brilliant amber eyes snapped open, glowing, though she didn’t realize such an occurrence transpired. “Maybe I could just wave my hand and set them all on fire.”

  “With us locked in here? And so many wooden trunks? I think this is a well thought out plan. Execute it immediately.”

  “You better pray to your precious elder that I don’t suddenly remember incantations that will free you from that sword.”

  “I am utterly apprehensive of what you will do to my person.”

  Emily stormed the sword, snatched its hilt and squeezed hard, throttling it back and forth. Garbled noises and grunts emitted from the choking weapon. It reminded Emily of how dice sounded when rattled in a backgammon cup.

  She shook Blade harder.

  Surge of power encompassed her. She vibrated. “Are you electrocuting . . . me?”

  “If you would ease your attempt to rattle me . . . we are as one, Princess . . . Emily.”

  Her vision blurred. Abruptly, it cleared. And heightened. “It’s as if these walls are windows. I can see through them!” The door they’d jerked open was actually housed in a small alcove. It boasted one piece of furniture, a stone bench. For a warden? Because, who would be up here? And who would be sitting outside, waiting? Emily visually ran the gamut of their interior. And there, as Blade had said, was a small door she assumed to be their escape. They would have to crawl to get through it. Beyond, they would still be on all fours, stone ceiling too low. One day, she’d have to ask the idiot what he’d been thinking when designing this place. Another door was at their destination’s end, quite a distance, it too not full size. Squinting, she tried seeing beyond. No use. “Can you see what’s beyond the door we’ll obviously be crawling towards?”

  “No. And that is most odd.”

  “I agree. Why would they make a door so small? I don’t see any torches either. How is it I can see like this?”

  “We-are-as-one,” he drawled with distinct mockery.

  Emily throttled him again. Annoyed, she released her grip and turned her attention to the trunks he seemed determined she go through. Most were empty. Others contained papers, odd coins, and rotted fabrics. Odd that the papers were fine, but the fabrics were a complete loss. A particular trunk drew her interest. Plain exterior, inside was another tiny box.

  “Illuminate a bit brighter. I think I found what you’re looking for.” Dragging the trunk over a rug no longer really able to make such a claim, she hefted her prize towards the center of the room and coughed against the dust she raised. “Why would an amulet be so important for me to find?”

  “Trust that I only serve to take care of you.”

  She shrugged to hide her confusion. “Broc made the same claim.”

  “Did we not just run up a maze of stairs from the Outlander?”

  “I wonder how long before I’m running from you.” She waved her hand. “How are we for visitors?”

  They gather in the hidden garden. Ah,” Blade chuckled. “Your Forest Lord has discovered my resurrection. We should have hidden the box I was laid in.”

  “Screw him.” A tickle of memory teased the edges of her mind. She stilled. Varied shades of green forest stretched until falling off in the far horizon. Squeezing eyes shut, opening them slowly, tilting her head . . . nothing worked. As if viewing in the flesh, thickly clustered very green forested land spread down below from a high bluff she stood upon. This wasn’t some fantastic historical romance she’d delved up from the used bookstore she haunted ever payday. She could smell the rippling meadows, feel the cool breeze both on her skin and sifting through her long hair. Broc sauntered towards her, grinning. Fisted in each hand, rabbits. Cooking smoke wafted across her face, blurring her vision a bit. He kissed her brow—

  “My lady?”

  Emily flinched. “Sorry.” She knuckle-dried sudden onslaught of tears stinging her eyes. “Visions.” She was witnessing Broc as a youth, his body more of teenage lithe, not the lived in strength he now possessed. She and the Forest Lord had shared something special going all the way back to their youth. So, what had happened to make him turn so ugly against her? Mental shake. Against Aurelia?

  “It is overwhelming for one not born into the knowledge of what will be. Aurelia was. But for you, difficult choices lay ahead. In that, you are the more fortunate of the two. Choices were not a luxury Aurelia was granted to enjoy. They were her destiny. Her duty. For you, it is more a matter of a journey to completion, or turning away and leading an ordinary life in your own time.”

  “You make it sound as if I will let everyone down, if I so choose to walk away from this madness. And let’s clarify something real quick, nothing will ever again be simple in my life. Not after this experience.”

  “You could never let anyone down. Should you walk away, this is the course that is meant to be.”

  “How lucky you a
re to remain calm.”

  “I assure you, my lady, it is not a gift. It was part of my training. Patience is learned.”

  Emily deflated, overwhelmed by the myriad of emotions. Here I am, me, me, me, and this guy gave up normal life to be imprisoned in a weapon so he could protect Aurelia. And now, me. Crazy. Heroic.

  “Remember, I am not a human man, such as you are acquainted with.”

  Emily gasped. “You read my mind?”

  “We are forged. It is why when you grasp my hilt, you see with my ability, just as I see into your mind.”

  Emily envisioned holding up her middle finger.

  “Judging my your facial expression, am I to presume the image in your mind is to mean something most unpleasant?”

  “Get out of my head, Blade. You might not like what you see.”

  “As you command.”

  Chills marched across her flesh. Fear fluttered. “You sure we’re alone?”

  Blade rotated, his point stopping several times along the stonewalls. “I sense nothing.” He turned his point towards her. “But I do sense you perceiving something.”

  “Maybe just old stones and drafts.”

  “If you are comfortable with that theory, my lady.”

  Emily lifted the small chest, no bigger than her palm, yet remarkably heavy. Inside was laden with deep purple fabric like heavy tapestry. And in perfect condition. Colors still vibrant. Folding back the tiny edges, Emily spied a beautiful silver chain. “Looks almost like chainmail.”

  “Powerful magic, Lady Emily.”

  She glanced her partner in crime before delicately grasping the chain, pulling it free of its coffin. “What the hell?”

  “You feel the magic it contains?”

  Emily’s eyes watered.

  “You remember?”

  “I should. Your Pendaran gave me one identical to this before dropping me off at the airport.”

  “Strange words, your speech contains. What would Pendaran have to do with this? It was a gift from your father—I have blundered again and request your sympathies. Aurelia, it was a gift from Aurelia’s sire.”

  “Explain, computer.”

  “Computer?”