Shadows of the Keeper

by Karey Brown

  Eyes blazing red, the captive spit blood at the jailor.

  Emily screamed and launched from her shadowed haven. “Don’t touch him!” She clawed a bared arm, grappling a fistful of luminous hair, doing her best to yank the creature away from the prisoner.

  Ferocious growling erupted.

  Razors sliced across her back.

  Emily arched, agony siphoning air from her lungs in a loud single whoosh.

  She couldn’t even scream. A second searing succeeded in ripping her back apart everywhere at once. She clung to the captive, her backside taking his whipping. Coherent only of loud buzzing in her ears, she looked up into the face of her new cellmate.

  He glared down at here, fangs bared. His fury pulsated.

  Dezenial.

  Her relief evaporated.

  She was grabbed and slammed to the dirt. Emily exploded into flailing limbs, her fists landing hard against flesh, her teeth sinking into whatever had the misfortune to come within reach. Inhumane bellows from her dream phantom vibrated against cold stone walls.

  Coherency left her for a long time.

  * * * * *

  “It would seem you are once again in need of my rescuing.”

  “A bang up job you’re doing,” Emily quipped, keeping very still.

  Weak laughter morphed into coughing.

  “Maybe you should save your strength for our great escape.”

  He barely mustered a slight shake of his head.

  “Dezenial?”

  “Mmmm?”

  “I really hate spiders.”

  Hissing erupted from an unfathomable darkness high above. Bevy of yellow eyes peered down at them. “Land-dwellers, we are not fond of,” the multi-appendage beasts said in unison.

  Emily quaked. Pain and fear twice caused her to scream uncontrollably. How long each episode lasted, she’d never be able to discern. Each time, Dezenial’s chants had brought her back to the shore of reality.

  “Dez?”

  Another grunt.

  “I think I detest being naked even more.”

  His head lifted, grinning. “I assure you . . . I am not insulted.”

  “Wretch.” She shifted. And hollered. Searing pain let her know movement was not an option.

  “Clothe you, Highness . . . in the . . . finest silks.”

  “That you force our brethren to spin for you!” The arachnids hissed. “Keep them in glass cages!”

  “I’d settle for a potato sack. Can you make them shut up?”

  Dezenial gave another shake of his head. “Your brethren should never have begged favors from Drakar.”

  Emily tried visually sifting through the moving shadows above while awaiting their argument. None came. Were they contemplating his statement? Or plotting when to make him their next meal? Spinners. Emily shuddered, and not from the cold, hard packed dirt she huddled upon. Half Lumynari for their torso, two legs and a head, but where humans and Lumynaries had two arms, they had three on each side. It was the freakiest thing she’d ever seen—endless screaming, when they’d first captured her, confirmed this. They could walk upright, or squat down and scuttle, crab-like. Fangs protruded from their mouths, black hair twisted into dreadlocks. Blade had whizzed past her, swinging, cutting, maiming, until they’d ensnared him in their thick webbing. Something had stung her; blessedly, she’d succumbed to darkness.

  She’d not seen Blade since.

  “When the sentry returns for you,” Dezenial started, coughing a few times. “You will be taken to Drakar. They think you are . . . finally broken.” More coughing. “They will now begin starving you . . . making you desperate.” He jerked his head.

  “What can I do?” Emily whispered. “There’s no way you can keep standing there, shackled, bleeding . . .” She’d been foolish enough to run across the slimy cold cell, throwing her body in front of him. What the hell had I been thinking? Statuesque-stillness was the only way to prevent her shredded back from pulling and tearing more. Even breathing became a chore, ever-so-careful not to inhale too deeply.

  “You’re lucky to be alive.”

  She could hear his ragged breathing worsening.

  “You are . . . special captive. Brave their cruelty . . . I will find you.” He sagged.

  “Dezenial!” Emily stood, crying out. Flesh across her spine pulled, ripped, blood coursing down her back. She gagged. Shamed by her nudity, hating even more her modesty, she ambled over and seized his dark head. His long white hair was blood soaked. “Dez?” Lightly, she smacked his hollow cheek. His face swam both from her tears and dizziness. “Dezenial? Come on. Please don’t leave me.” She looked over her shoulder, but their guard wasn’t the least bit interested from his side of the thick door. Hissing erupted. Emily flinched, whipping her gaze upward. Were the spider-thingies about to descend and make a meal of them? She imagined the smell of blood from both their open wounds had the beasts salivating. Again, a wave of dizziness. Movement on his forearm caught her attention.

  “They shackled you with snakes?”

  “Careful . . . Keer’dra.”

  “Dezenial!” Hot tears flowed. She touched his hair, his arms, careful to avoid his wounds. She caressed his beautiful face.

  “Keer’dra.” He smiled, lifting his head from her hands.

  Her forehead fell against his bloodied chest. “Dezenial,” she sniffed. “I swear, I’m not going to cry. I’m . . . not.” Tilting her face upward, she offered a weak smile, garnering comfort from his nearness.

  “My blood is now . . . smeared on your . . . face.”

  “War paint.”

  His lips captured hers, gentle yet commanding. She didn’t question. There wasn’t enough in her to care about anything but this moment. For long seconds, their kiss took them away from the torment their battered bodies suffered. Her emotions whirled, her knees trembling. His tongue tasted ever so slight, teasing for entrance she willingly granted. The taste of him sent spirals of ecstasy through her. He pulled away. Both gasped for air. He nuzzled her hair, ragged breathing tiptoeing between them. Her head against his chest, she studied his arms and wondered how he could possibly be shackled by mere snakes. He looked far more powerful than the glistening reptiles currently coiled ‘round each wrist.

  “Keer’dra, one bite and you are dead within seconds.”

  “You aren’t.”

  “I am . . . different. I slip into unconsciousness. Can’t . . . leave you. Careful, or they will bite you as well. Even now, they trembled with anticipation.”

  “They’re that intelligent?”

  In answer, one zipped towards her. Screeching, she jumped back. “You little son of bitch!” Her hand shot up, swirling. The snake thrust again, fierce fangs rearing to puncture—blue flames erupted from Emily’s palm. Sizzling serpent scorched their nostrils.

  “Keer’dra?”

  Emily spun about. Sure as shit, its bastard twin was springing out for her. Ducking, she scorched the creature. The fanged beast would slither nevermore.

  “Your temper needs taming.”

  “My temper is how I like it. I don’t appreciate being snapped at by something better suited as a pair of boots.”

  Sizzling snakes turned the air even more foul than it had already been.

  “How long have you known . . . your power with flame?”

  Emily blew the tip of her forefinger as if it were a smoking gun. “An accidental boon.”

  Hissing erupted from above. Dezenial slipped to his knees, and began rotating his shoulders. He pulled Emily down, her nakedness this close to him making his heightened senses crackle.

  His hands against her bare flesh caused chills, and an odd sensation at a time like this. She couldn’t help staring at his torso. Bet my back looks similar. Thank God for torchlight being nearly moot. She’d be sick if she could see his wounds any more clearly.

  Hissing frenzied.

  “What’s happening?” Subconsciously, she huddled closer, absorbing his radiating heat.

  “They watch.
”

  “No kidding. Can you do better?”

  “How far into your training are you?”

  She dared drop down her gaze to level with Dezenial’s. “Urkani seems to think I’m ‘passing fancy’ on knife throwing, that I suck with bow and arrow, and it will require ‘several centuries for me to learn even the proper way to handle a sword’. He claims I’m better suited for butter knives, then says a bunch of gibberish I’ve come to suspect is Elvish cursing.”

  “I meant, magicks.”

  “Oh, magicks and woo-hoo stuff fell into the category of: Best Keep This From Emily.”

  “Fools.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Is a temper tantrum the only way you can conjure your magicks?”

  “Watch it, or I’ll show you a tantrum that will make those whips seem like child’s play.” Fed up, she rose quickly and howled. Her torn back ripped more. She weaved. He grasped her calf, steading her.

  “You were a fool to step in front of a Lumynari’s whip.”

  She kept her teeth clenched against the pain. “Lecture me later. How do we get outa here?”

  Keys jangled.

  Dezenial shot up and shoved Emily behind him. She howled, her back slamming against the rocky wall. “Keer’dra!” He had hurt her. No time for apologies.

  Heavy door crashed open. Bright orange torchlight flooded their cave-like cell. Emily squinted, light bruising her eyes.

  The creature wasn’t tall and stunning like Lumynaries she’d seen thus far. He was squat, bulging, and rumbling threats. Dezenial remained mute. He stalked, dwarfing the ghastly guard. Gouges on the creature’s face, deep and left to fester, oozed black gunk. Emily turned her head, rapidly swallowing back the need to gag. She could taste his curdling stench. From black jerkin, the rotting beast whipped out a menacing serrated blade. Making slicing motions, he crouched, moving along the perimeter of their cell. Emily was no fool. The monster was edging closer and closer towards her! Still weak from numerous snakebites, Dezenial jumped back each time their attacker lunged and swiped. Gurgling wicked laughter bubbled from the jailor.

  Emily’s eyes adjusted. Then enlarged. It was none other than the little maggot who had kicked her in the stomach, rendering her immobile. Taking advantage of her clawing for air, he’d dropped down, digging his knee even deeper into her stomach while another tore and sliced her clothing from her body. He’d thrown her prized hiking boots over his shoulder like trophies.

  Those were handmade Elvish boots, you maggot-ass!

  Again, he sliced at Dezenial.

  Naked, the vile beast had groped her.

  Dezenial worked his way around, enticing the guard away from Emily.

  He had touched her intimately, threatening in broken English all sorts of details of what he had planned for her. He’d beaten her until snatched away by the whip mistress.

  He thrashed his blade at Dezenial’s abdomen. Her dark hero yelled out and dropped to his knees. Fury and fear, a dangerous combination, consumed her. Dezenial threw her an odd look, holding his midsection with one hand, warding off his attacker with a well-aimed fist. The beast shook his head, thrusting his weapon downward. His aim was for Dezenial’s skull. But the skilled Lumynari, weak with venom poisoning, torqued backwards on his knees, barely avoiding the deathblow.

  “You will touch him no longer.” Emily’s voice reverberated.

  Battling foes forgot each other. She’d spoken in their language.

  “Keer’dra?” Impossible! Enslaved land-dwellers residing down here for decades still spoke the language so terribly chopped, that many owners forbade them to speak at all. Emily’s fluency and cadence was spoken like the child born to it she had once been. Dezenial dared a glance down at his torso. Blood flowed too quickly. The last of his strength would be used in healing magicks, or to save the woman one last time. If he saved her, he would no doubt fall unconscious. She would be unprotected for the duration of his being incoherent—not that he was currently having any effect in thoroughly protecting her. Applying his type of magic could not transpire in front of her. She could never know his true identity. None of them could. Irrevocable shock would chase her forever away from him. Never mind what his enemies would attempt. His attention reverted to her. Surprise contorted his features.

  “Keer’dra!”

  Emily stared down her enemy. Eyes, unwavering, glowed molten amber. Even her hair flamed and crackled white fire. She reached out, crooking her fingers, beckoning the guard. “Come to me.” She smiled evilly, her voice husky, as if offering a dalliance.

  The jailor hesitated. If Dezenial hadn’t been so caught up in the Spinners being witness to Emily’s power—plotting how to stop them before they could scuttle away and get word to Drakar that The Keeper was indeed in his custody—he’d have laughed. Like him, the guard knew no human was beholden to such power.

  And, Emily was naked.

  He saw the jailor lick his cracked lips. With a roar, Dezenial used the last of his strength to lung at the beast . . . just as the guard lunged at Emily.

  Dezenial collapsed into oblivion.

  Emily dropped. The guard grunted towards her. Quickly, she twisted into a crouch behind his shins. As she rose, two large orifices of blue flame bloomed from her palms. The grotesque creature arched. His screams deafened. Fire blazed from thighs to neck. Matted hair curled and melted, his flesh sloughing from his skull. The more he beat at the flames, the more they fanned to life. His hands melted into nubs.

  Emily snapped free of her trance.

  Flame extinguished from her hands. Her nemesis toppled, his body coiling into black leather. Emily buckled. Coherency of pain resumed. Her back seared. Her mind blinked.

  Dezenial.

  Forcing her arms to work, she dragged herself to him. Gasping, crying out, she rolled him over and collapsed on his chest. His blood saturated her. She muttered for death to take her as well. Maybe I’ll die before they discover I’ve killed one of their pigs. Their retribution, she knew, would be the final act succeeding in sending her into irreversible psychosis. Awful stench of burning flesh swamped the already decayed air they suffered.

  As seen in movies, she traced her fingers along Dezenial’s collarbone until feeling where a pulse should be. Nothing. Broc claimed she’d healed Aedan. Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried like hell to conjure a power she lacked control over. No tightening or tingling of nape occurred. Resignedly, her eyes lazed open. “I can’t save you. I think I’m spent,” she whispered. And so tired. Tremors racked her.

  Voices barked. Chaos of running feet and . . . chains?

  “Once they see what I’ve done, we won’t be special prisoners anymore.” Her eyes crawled across the floor, her head too heavy to lift, searching for the blade the guard had killed Dezenial with. No, no, no! He’s not dead!

  Shouts grew closer. Emily’s lids were too heavy to keep open. Maybe they’d be swift about it. No, Dez had said they thrived on torture. Knife. She needed to . . . retrieve . . .

  Something heavy thudded next to her. Vaguely, she was aware of opening one of her eyes. Screams would have pealed throughout the cavern, save for the sticky hand clamping down across her mouth.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Land-dweller, make a sound, you cannot.” Hands clasped under her bared knees, under her shoulders, while another seemed to hover over her body, everywhere at once. Webbing began wrapping her from ankles to breasts, though her arms remained unbound. She wanted to fight them, but was too weak to care. The warmth of being cocooned made her even more lethargic. Sensation of floating followed. Too exhausted to protest, she watched Dezenial receive the same treatment. He was parallel with her, both of them hoisted at dizzying speeds into the abyss of darkness. Were they being taken to Drakar? She writhed. Oh God, were they being taken as a meal?! She crazed.

  “I will drop you. Still your twitching, or I sting.”

  Emily froze. Envisioning the size pinchers these freaky creatures had, her mind knocked on insanity’s
door. “Where are—“

  “Silence,” the voice hissed so close, her ear steamed from its vaporous breath. “Enemies arrive.”

  Slid into a narrow opening, she couldn’t see below her. With unexpected gentleness, she was laid atop a squishy surface. Did Dezenial receive the same treatment? Her back blazed. Squishy surface, or her own blood? Her eyes weighed a ton. Warmth. How had bone-numbing chill become suffocating? Quick shake of her head. Must remain awake. Warmth meant she was being lulled to her death. Actually, is that so bad? Her teeth resumed chattering. She tried moving her legs. Mummy-wrapped. Gingerly, afraid she was about to feel sticky ick of webbing, she probed the substance cocooning her. Surprised, her fingers instead caresses a texture similar to soft wool. And, warm.

  Shouting.

  Emily jumped. Orange-yellowy light flickered above her, offering a miniscule view of her surroundings. Akin to being in a rock coffin. She’d never be able to stand. She was being dragged away to a lair. Hissing sounded again, right beside her. Firelight snuffed. It was even more dark than minutes earlier. A door slammed. Keys jangled. They locked an empty prison room? She was lifted again. Lucidity floated somewhere beyond vision. She inhaled deeply, held her breath and finally released it, hoping to remain conscious.

  “I’m bleeding.”

  “We are aware the food we do without.”

  Emily grimaced. “Where are you taking us? You’re bringing Dezenial too, right? You can’t just leave him.” She was an inferno. She had to get out of this cocoon! “I can’t breathe.” She wriggled.

  “A prisoner, you are not. Be still before we forget this. Your twitching salivates my fangs.”

  Several long moments passed before Emily remembered to breathe. The thought of becoming their dinner terrified her more than any torture a Lumynari could dream up. Odd noises filtered through to her senses. Like bricks rubbed together. Spinner laughter. It was an awful thing to hear. Gritting her teeth, she tried to remain as stiff and still as possible. It also helped her to keep from screaming. They traveled what felt like a long bend before her body dipped slightly, a steep descent now their route.

  “Please . . . my back. A break. Just for a moment.”