The Secret of the Keepers

by Elizabeth Isaacs

  Ester’s hands shook as she brushed the hair from her face. “Fine, I saw that she would be here.” Her voice became petulant. “But I did mean to explore the woods to find some herbs that grow along that ridge,” she pointed to trees jutting above the heavily wooded area. “And if I happened upon the Princess and found a way to speak with her alone, then all the better.”

  I took a step toward her and smiled, trying to diffuse the anger boiling around me. “Ester, I feel it’s important you know that it doesn’t matter if I’m alone. The Prince and I hold no secrets from one another.”

  “Now Princess,” she leaned in and practically simpered. “Even the closest mates have the smallest of secrets.”

  Gavin tensed, but Rune’s feathers fanned out like porcupine quills. He grabbed her by the nape of the neck. Ester’s pupils dilated, making the golden irises even more disturbing.

  Rune’s speech became formal. “You will not try to deceive,” he growled. “If you weaken my Princess so that she cannot serve her purpose, I will hunt you down in the ways of my clan, and you shall be no more. You will not discuss with her anything that you do not understand, or I will cut your tongue from your body and burn it in front of your eyes. I do not hold the same convictions as the Alfar, for I serve the Creator first and the Princess second. I am an original warrior of light, foolish, shallow one.” Rune jerked her head back, so they were eye to eye. His growl turned into a mighty roar that would have left the biggest bear cowering in fright. Ester stumbled as Rune released her.

  Everyone froze, shocked. Malachi looked from Rune to Ester.

  “You’re thinkin’ I shouldn’t be losin’ me temper,” Rune demanded, but Malachi shook his head.

  “Not at all. Ester’s grasp of the ancient language is just as good as mine.” He turned to Ester, “I take it you now understand the severity of trying to usurp the Princess’ protection?”

  She nodded, her eyes not leaving Rune.

  “Good,” Malachi said. “We have no time for such foolishness.”

  “My task is not foolish.” Ester’s voice rose, but she shrank away as Rune took a menacing step forward.

  “Nevertheless, you will desist.” Even though Malachi’s voice softened, the command was unmistakable. His calm exasperation reminded me of a parent chastising an unruly child.

  Ester finally looked down. “As you wish.”

  The words seemed to choke her. She started to leave, but Rune stood in her path.

  “I’m believin’ the old one’s not done with yer hide yet.”

  Fury rippled off her in waves. She froze facing the garden gate refusing to look at Malachi. “What is it you need now?”

  “The Queen has commissioned a cloak,” Malachi explained. “Corina will bring the materials and specifications to you. It must be made as quickly as possible.”

  Her gold eyes finally turned to the Ancient One. “Is it more of this new strand?” Her curiosity overtook her anger. “I’ve never seen anything its equal.”

  “Your only concern is to assure that the specifications are met—especially the hood.”

  “And I’ll be accompanin’ the happy one.” Rune growled. “It’ll get done quicker that way.”

  Ester swallowed, glancing at Rune. “Really, there is no need. I’ll make it a priority.”

  “Aye, you will.” Rune’s eyes narrowed.

  Ester turned on her heel and stormed away.

  “Malachi, what are you up to?” I asked as we watched Tark and Rena escorted Ester to the front gates.

  “The Queen would not come into the courtyard today fearing the energy. I believe that if we use the golden material left from her coronation ceremony and weave your hair into it that it will provide her some measure of relief.”

  “Is there no one else in the land that possesses the talent of textiles?” Surely we didn’t have to ask Ester.

  “Not one who can deal with the power, young Light.”

  I sighed, trying not to smile. “Isn’t anyone interested that I completely understood what Rune said?”

  Gavin scowled as he replayed the memory. “You’re right, Nora. You understood every word.”

  Malachi started speaking in the ancient language. One stream of thought translated a wonderful story about how the moon became purple.

  Suddenly, dread ran through the garden and sent my heart into overdrive.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Light, please do as I request.” Malachi took a deep breath trying to contain his anger. “You do not understand the power the ancient language holds. For the next century, only speak it if absolutely necessary. Do you agree?”

  Chapter 12

  Nora’s Essence

  “WHY?” I LOOKED FROM Gavin to Malachi and back to Gavin again.

  Malachi tapped the walking stick on the cobbled stone. “It is my belief you were not meant to come by this skill easily. The ancient language develops over time through experience. You now possess the understanding of the language as the butterflies do.”

  I looked at the stunned faces of my clan. “All right, no speaking the language until I’m older. What about reading it or listening to it?”

  Gavin became pensive. He knew I didn’t understand the gravity of the situation, and his concern ached.

  The Ancient One’s knuckles whitened as he gripped his walking stick. “Come, we have work to do,” he grumbled, heading off in front of me. We passed the statues and went up the stone steps leading to the foyer. Finally, he slowed allowing the small space between us to close.

  “What’s done is done,” he said. “It is counterproductive to focus on something we cannot change.”

  We walked through the castle in silence, my mind still mulling over the events of the morning. What was so dangerous about knowing the ancient language? And Ester. The Alfar avoided manipulation at all cost. How could she possibly think she wasn't manipulative?

  We wound through the tunnels, finally ending up in Malachi’s front chamber.

  “I’ll see you later,” Rena whispered as Gavin and I followed Malachi through the curtain of energy.

  “Are elves born with a depth of understanding or is it a learned trait?”

  Malachi motioned us forward, not stopping to answer my question. When we passed the tunnel leading to the energy field, I thought he wasn’t going to answer me.

  “It is both.” he finally said, veering left into an unfamiliar passage. “Elves and humans have more in common than we sometimes care to admit. The gifts bestowed match the intelligence; the more complex the gift, the deeper the ability to understand subtlety. Some elves only have two levels of consciousness; those that have been given gifts requiring more thought have three. I have four, but the Prince informs me that you, Princess, have been given six levels of conscious thought even though he only possesses three. Why do you think that is?” Malachi’s index finger rubbed his chin as his eyes grew in intensity.

  I frowned. “Because I’m going to need them.”

  Malachi chuckled and started to lead us through the small space that grew bigger with every step. “I believe you might be right.”

  The tunnel ended in a large cavern. The walls were so densely covered in roots that only small patches of gray slate shimmered with power. Some of the more massive tree roots shone a beautiful light blue, some were so white they looked like polished silver. The sweet smell of the land after a rainstorm reminded me of Rena. Gavin raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. I followed the roots from ceiling to floor, wondering how it was possible for the wood to meld into the rock at my feet.

  “The energy of the western forest is collected here.” Malachi ran his finger along the wall. “The system of the mountain works in much the same manner as your nervous system. These roots feed energy into the mountain, and they also take energy from the mountain if the land has a need. When energy is distributed, the plants flourish and grow. This is especially important before the winter and birthing seasons.”

  All six stre
ams now had endless questions as I looked around. Gavin let go of my hand and stood very still.

  Gavin, you all right?

  “I have asked him to quiet his mind, so you may focus, Princess. This is an important lesson.”

  Buttery sunshine angled through the bright blue and white of the vines. Malachi smiled, tipping his face to the light.

  “What’s up there?” I put my hand to my forehead, blocking the sun. A shaft had been carved in the ceiling, reaching to the outside of the mountain, ending with a convex piece of glass. “It looks like a skylight.”

  “Very good, Princess. The shaft was created to house a Sfera stone.”

  “What? That’s not glass but rock?”

  “Mineral, actually.” Smiling, he looked at me, the light playing with the facets of his eyes. “The Sfera is the rarest of gemstones. They are similar to diamonds but grow smooth, large, and very clear. Before I was born, the elves of old found them. At first, they thought them to be gold but soon discovered they were clear with a golden liquid in the center. We dip the children’s amulets in the liquid before their receiving ceremony. It is the stone’s pure energy that causes the clasp to never fail. An amulet is placed on the ankle with the adoration of his mother or father, and will only release by the devotion of his future mate. When the energy of loss outweighs love, the liquid knows that the male has gone on to the next plane, and the amulet frees itself for the final time.”

  “So, it is the loss of faith by the wearer that releases the amulet, not the actual death of the mate?”

  “An astute observation, Light.” Malachi’s voice lowered as he became interested in the top of his walking stick. “I suppose you might think of it that way.”

  “Has an amulet ever released itself by mistake?”

  Malachi froze. “Sometimes your curiosity can be unsettling.” His expression became guarded. “To answer your question, I know of no such event. But that is not to say it’s impossible.”

  I sighed, concentrating on the window once more. Sunshine filtered through, showering golden light on the roots below. Something nudged my memory—there was something familiar about the way the stone caught the light.

  “How does this help with energy?”

  “It collects the devotion to the land and gives it back to the mountain.”

  I remembered a time when Rena and I were trying to find our way back to Gavin and Tark. Images of a tunnel in the bough of the Mighty Oak—it had a rounded window that overlooked the lake where the portal was hidden.

  Recognition blazed.

  “The window in the Mighty Oak was actually a Sfera, wasn’t it? That’s how my memories could be channeled back into the mountain.”

  Malachi’s eyes gleamed in appreciation. “Correct.”

  “Are they stored somewhere? The memories?”

  Malachi chuckled. “That is the second lesson for this day.”

  We followed Malachi to the back of the cave. His fingers caressed the roots as he softly spoke the ancient language. They parted, revealing a metal door. There was no handle or knob, and the copper coloring reminded me of the bottom of a pan.

  “Empathy is the gateway to wisdom and strength.” I read the ancient writing scripted on the arch overhead.

  Malachi smiled. “I’ve often wondered what this place originally contained, but there is no record of why the room was created, and it has not been used since before I was born.” The door unlatched, but Malachi did not open it. He turned to Gavin. “The roots of the Mighty Oak sent Nora’s memories here the night she saved you from the Dokkalfar. Be wary, young Prince. Everything is stored here, both the good and the bad.” Malachi patted my shoulder. “I feel I’m needed back with the clan. Dinner is underway, and Rune seems to be a most entertaining guest.”

  “Malachi?” I didn’t want him to leave.

  He smiled. “You go and play with your Prince, he has earned this treat. I will see you tomorrow.”

  We watched him disappear down the winding tunnel before Gavin tugged on my hand.

  “You’re looking forward to this, aren’t you?” I couldn’t help but wonder why. This was my life up until the night I made it to Kailmeyra. He already knew this.

  “Yes, but I’ve never experienced it.” He grinned.

  As soon as the door opened, a blast of hot air hit my face, and I grabbed his arm.

  “No, wait.” I held him back. “There are memories of the time we were apart, of the Dokkalfar. I’ve shared what I remember, but they’re here—all of them—my father, my childhood—everything.”

  “I know,” his breath fell across my face as he leaned in. “I want to experience all of you.” Gavin kissed my forehead and then stepped into the cavern.

  Dry heat surrounded us. This energy was not a white cloud or misty blue fog, it was golden with millions of thin pink strands dipping and swirling in the cloudy mixture.

  We took a few steps into the chamber, and I realized that the energy wasn’t gold, the walls were.

  “The ancients must have painted this cave with the Sfera’s liquid, so it would be stronger than rock,” I whispered. Gavin closed the door, submerging us in power. His eyes shone, a smile spread across his face as he took me in his arms. As soon as his lips met mine, memory threads darted around us, each one echoing a kiss from the past.

  Stay with me.

  “How can I not, you’re all around me.” He grinned.

  Energy bounced off every surface, bringing out the strands of fuchsia floating throughout. Gavin sat in the middle of the golden floor pulling me onto his lap. I put my head on his shoulder, loving the feel of him. Wisps of thoughts flew forward, circling around our heads. Images of him holding me played on streams in my mind, and I smiled wishing I could place our time at the spiders’ respite in here as well. Gavin chuckled.

  I wish Edna could see this. I smiled, watching the soft streams of light float through the air. As soon as I thought her name, pink streamers—some thin as thread, others like long lines of cotton candy—floated toward us. Memories hovered around us; Edna’s sweet voice rang in my mind. I marveled at the sheer number of experiences I’d forgotten over the years.

  “I want to try something.” My heart longed for my first memory—the one that held the key to a lifetime of questions.

  A faint wisp of energy, so light it looked white, encircled us, and I held my breath. Muted colors made the images almost black and white. I strained to focus.

  Short high-pitched beeps echoed off the walls. A cold, wet feeling overcame me, making me shiver. I gagged as someone shoved something up both nostrils. Unfamiliar arms bundled me in stiff cotton. Harsh chemical fumes, alcohol, and the metal tinge of blood hung in the air. A green surgical mask covered the man’s face in front of me, but the lines around his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

  My senses heightened; Gavin’s arms pulled me closer, his chin rested on my shoulder.

  A faint hint of Jasmine and ancient power wafted through the room, the scent growing stronger with each passing second.

  “Congratulations, Mrs. Johnson. It’s a girl.” The muffled voice behind the mask said in a brisk, businesslike voice. He turned me towards a woman whose blonde hair was darkened with sweat and matted against her forehead. Her hazel eyes swam with joy, and her chin quivered. A sob escaped her lips when he placed me in her arms.

  “Nora ... you’re so beautiful.” Her voice held a hint of a southern accent, its timbre clear and kind. “I wish your daddy could be here to see you. He’d be so proud.” She ran a finger down my cheek, her smile beaming with tears. She kissed my forehead. “Isn’t she perfect?” She looked at the woman next to her. Love, peace, and sheer joy wrapped around me in a comforting embrace.

  “She sure is, Mrs. Johnson. She sure is.” The echoing beeps became faster. Her grip tightened.

  “I love you.” Her voice became frail as the emotions tightened around me. Her lashes fluttered and then her eyes rolled back in her head. Someone snatched me from her arms.

 
“Doctor, there’s something wrong!” A voice in the distance hollered as the high-pitched beep became erratic and then started to scream. I struggled as they whisked me away.

  “No, wait,” I whispered. The memory of my mother faded to dark.

  Tears fell, and Gavin turned me, cradling my head against his shoulder.

  “I wish she would've been stronger. I wish I could have known her.”

  He kissed my forehead. “I know, love. I know.”

  His comfort soothed me, and I nuzzling into his warmth. “At least now I know. She held me, and she loved me. Even if it was only for a few minutes.”

  Gavin kissed each eyelid before making his way to the tip of my nose. He rested his forehead against mine. “The Alfar pour out the last of our energy to the land before we go to the higher plane. It is our last act of selflessness. I believe Asteria’s heritage allowed your mother to do the same. She loved you more in that one moment than most people experience in a lifetime, and that is what helped protect you when you were a child.”

  “I like that idea.” I gave him a watery smile, and he settled me back on his lap.

  We stayed well into the evening, Gavin calling forward memories of my childhood ... the day I discovered school was not only a place to learn but a place to eat ... my first night on Edna’s mountain. Energy hummed through me, and I relaxed closing my eyes, almost falling asleep. Gavin finally stood, and we headed toward the door.

  “Well that was interesting.” I stretched my arms over my head.

  Gavin spoke to the roots, and they wove together, concealing the chamber again.

  “You don’t think we are finished, do you?”

  Surprised, I turned to face him, watching him smile as the purple of night shone through the orb in the ceiling. “What do you mean?”

  “We’ve just scratched the surface, my Princess. I intend to experience every strand in this room.”

  “Gavin, that’s eighteen years ... that’ll take a while.” I stammered, becoming flustered. “I mean, not every experience I had was valuable.”