The Secret of the Keepers

by Elizabeth Isaacs

  “My lady,” she whispered, burying her face in my shoulder. “Please. I cannot take much more.” Her voice broke, and I held her.

  “Neither can I Reen, neither can I,” I whispered back.

  “All is not lost, daughter of Rill.” Malachi’s timbre drifted over the constant energy drone, and I looked back and noticed just how small it had become. Rena gave me one last hug as Siana pulled at her shirt.

  “Come on, Ms. Rena. If we keep him waiting, the King’ll get mad and not want to play,” Siana insisted.

  I smiled and released her. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

  Rena sighed and took Siana’s hand. I watched them disappear behind the stalactite wall.

  The air cooled and circulated at the edge of the field and cold seeped through to my bones. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the sensation. Images of Gavin’s eyes ... his lips, tender, gentle, always giving ... his laughter ... his warmth. My eyes stung, but I had no more tears to shed. I stumbled, my legs giving way.

  I now understood why the Alfar feared remembering the ones they’ve lost. This ice living in me was nothing short of torture.

  The wild child aggressively repressed images of emeralds while the middle streams recalled Siana and Rena. Malachi’s silhouette etched in the haze, and I locked my knees in place, waiting until I could see his features clearly before I started to speak.

  “The Queen’s guard warned me. His last words were Ester had seen that my fate was to be as hers. I thought he was delirious, but now I understand. Ester knew I would rule as Lera—widowed and alone.” My voice, already hoarse, turned into nothing but a pained whisper. “Did you not love me enough to warn me?”

  It was the only question that had graced my consciousness since the amulet slipped from my wrist. Malachi knew, and yet he allowed Gavin to be taken. That’s why he didn’t want to accompany us; that’s why he’d been so distant. Queen Lera was right to doubt his conviction about manipulating the future.

  Malachi’s eyes hardened. “Do not doubt my devotion, Princess.” He stood before me, but I couldn’t meet his gaze. “You once said you would always search for the right intent.” The air whipped in agitation, heating my clothes.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” I questioned back, already tired of talking to him. “You could have warned me. We would have chosen differently. He’d still be here.” I turned from him balling my hand into fists. I wanted to feel anger, resentment, something. But even the darkest of emotions couldn’t make it through the barrier aching around my heart. My shoulders slumped.

  “I can’t do this. Not without him.” My chest became heavy, and it took every effort just to breathe. I headed back towards the center, needing to lie down and fall back into oblivion.

  “You’re giving up, then?” Malachi’s voice became aggressive.

  I really looked at him for the first time. His eyes were sunken in their sockets, and his skin held a tinge of gray. He was weakening; soon he’d be gone too.

  Malachi grabbed my shoulders forcing me to face him. “Nora of Light, where is your faith?”

  “My amulet is no longer locked on my wrist!” I shouted, jerking away from his touch. Fury boiled from deep within. “What do you expect? Where should my faith lie?”

  Malachi backed away; his eyes widened in fear.

  I choked back a sob. The fury disappeared as quickly as it had come. I rubbed my chest again. “What should I hope for?” I croaked, turning away from him.

  “Is that all you know of love?” His voice rose, his hands grabbed my upper arms. He shook his head, his eyes weary and pained. “You told Rune if you died to save Ester you honored all that you love. That is bravery, not devotion.”

  I looked down, but he nudged my chin up and swept the hair from my face, his hand resting on my cheek. “Young Light, no one has ever doubted you would die for those you love ... the question then becomes would you live?”

  Defeated, I put my head on his chest. “Gavin knew. That’s why he wanted to protect me. He knew I wasn’t strong enough. I can’t do this alone.”

  “He knew no such thing. He only wished to spare you pain.” Malachi held me, his hand smoothed my hair. “And you are not alone. I am here.”

  Memories of Gavin in the Sfera cave came crashing through, and my knees buckled as grief rocked me to my core.

  Malachi caught me, his arms supporting my weight.

  “I need my source.” My voice broke.

  “Your heart needs your source. But your strength is not tied to your heart.

  “What?”

  He linked his arm in mine, and we headed out of the energy field. I shivered, and Malachi picked up Edna’s quilt along the way, wrapping it around my shoulders. My body relaxed, my mind became less agitated.

  “I believe there is a reason you were born human,” he stated as if we were back in the cave of knowledge talking about the strength of the daisy.

  “What do you mean?”

  “In both worlds, the more you love, the more you grieve, yes?” Malachi glanced over, as I shook my head. “Had you been born in this world and loved as deeply as you do, you would have died before you made it back to the mountain. I believe your human attributes allow you to survive.”

  “And Gavin?” I whispered, tears filling my eyes.

  “Elias and Elaine won’t answer my request, and Rune is not yet back.”

  I startled. I hadn’t thought of Rune since he handed me Gavin’s ring.

  Malachi patted my shoulder. “You’ve been trapped in grief, young one. You have no energy for guilt.” He simply stated.

  We entered his chambers. Rena and Tark were the lone occupants of our table. Food stood in abundance, but for the first time since the wedding, blue orbs danced along the wall.

  “Where’s the Queen?”

  Rena stirred, but Malachi met my gaze.

  “She’s in despair. The best healers are with her, and I have placed reminders of her purpose around her.”

  I started toward the door, but Malachi stood, stopping me.

  “No, Light. She has asked to be left in solitude, and we will respect her wishes.”

  “What about Rune? Is he all right?”

  Malachi’s eyes twinkled. “I will tell you, but only if you eat.”

  I took my seat and grabbed a piece of my favorite bread. It tasted like sandpaper, but I forced it past the permanent lump in my throat. Malachi waited until I drank some juice before he sat back in his chair.

  “I have heard from the Urisk once. He spoke only to tell me that he fears the Dokkalfar might be able to understand the ancient language, and so we must not attempt to contact any of them. He assured me that he will not return until he helps Elias fulfill his promise to the Princess.”

  My stomach churned, and I willed the food not to come up. The air seemed bitter, and I hugged Edna’s quilt around me.

  “Why is it so cold?”

  Malachi sighed. “You have been steeped in excess energy for well over a year. Your body grew accustomed to its heat.”

  Rena left, coming back with a large mug of hot apple cider.

  “What do we do now?” I said, mindlessly circling my finger over the cup’s lip.

  “You are drained. We will adjourn for the evening. Light, I suggest you rest in the energy field, Rena an—”

  “No,” I said, tears once again trickling down my face.

  “Pardon?” Malachi asked.

  “I will sleep in my chambers—and I will remember,” I said, setting the mug down.

  “I do not think it wise.” Malachi’s voice trailed away.

  I looked at him, sure my expression was as cold as my heart. “No offense, but right now I really don’t care.” Without another word I turned and walked out the door.

  “Nora of Light, wait.” Tark shouted from behind.

  “I don’t want to go back in the mountain. Not tonight.” I stared at the floor.

  “If you want to rest in your chambers, I’ll not stop
you. But I thought I would let you know that if you wish to visit the Queen, I’ll tell the guard to expect you.”

  Surprised, I looked up. “Malachi said she wanted to be left in seclusion.”

  “As did you when we were in the Mighty Oak.”

  I startled at the change in subject. When I thought I’d sealed the only way Gavin had of coming back to me, I didn’t want to see anyone. Tark came in anyway. He wouldn’t let me lose hope, demanding I fight.

  “What if she blames me?” I looked back down, not sure if I could handle her accusing me of not being the source her son needed.

  Tark’s eyes became wary. “This may be your only chance to speak with her.”

  I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to say no. Much as I hated to admit it, Malachi was right. I’d have to look past my own pain and find a way to fight. I might not have been the source Gavin deserved, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t at least try and help Lera. Kailmeyra wouldn’t last a day without her. “Tell the guard I’m on my way.”

  Before I turned to go, Tark’s hand rested on my shoulder.

  “Princess, I’ve not lost hope.”

  Those few words, spoken so softly and with such conviction, washed over me, making the ice in my chest more evident. His fingers tightened for a moment before he walked away.

  Two guards stood outside the Queen’s door but did not acknowledge my presence. I went through the sitting room and up the three flights of stairs. The Queen looked small in her bed, the covers pulled up to her neck. As soon as I entered, three servants stood, shock mirrored on their faces.

  “Leave us.” My expression must have frightened them because the maids bowed deeply and exited the room.

  Queen Lera studied me. “That is the first time someone other than me has commanded my staff.” Her emotions held a tinge of respect. “I think it odd I feel proud of you rather than offended that they should so readily abandon their posts.”

  I sat on the side of her bed and brought her hand to mine.

  “Your eyes, my child. They’ve lost their light.”

  I ignored the comment and looked away. “Kailmeyra still needs you.”

  “I am weary, Princess,” her voice became weak.

  “So am I.” I rubbed my chest.

  “Are you cold?”

  “Yes. My heart hurts.”

  “That will pass with time.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that.

  A wan smile hinted at her lips. “Even though you disregarded my edict, I’m glad you came. I have one other gift for you. I had my maid fetch it this morning.” She reached over and took a piece of wood the size of a roof shingle from her bedside table, resting it on her lap. “This was given to my father before I was born.” The flat piece of wood looked like it was thousands of years old. Love emanated from its very fiber. The outer edge of the plank had been polished to a glossy sheen. Each blade of grass, each flower, had been intricately carved across the front, the rest of the scene held the solid look of the mountain’s base. Lera lovingly ran her fingers over its notches and dips, her palm finally resting over its center.

  “I’ve never seen this art technique.” I leaned in. The wood had been molded like a sculpture but then burnished to bring the landscape to life. Swirls of light and dark curled together, adding to the beautiful design.

  “What kind of tree did this come from?”

  “It is known only through legend. I believe it is called Brosh wood.”

  I studied the scene, realizing the meadow in front of the mountain was where the kingdom now stood.

  “Touch it, Nora.”

  I stared at her dumbfounded. We’d never discussed my unusual gift. “Why?”

  “Please. Touch it with me.” She took my hand and brushed my fingertips over the raised tableau. Faith rushed through me like a tidal wave. I started to pull away, but Lera pressed my palm into the paneling. I closed my eyes to the conviction running strong and sure, taking the ice from my heart.

  Stout fingers held the wood, dipping and molding the scene before him, his heart held such hope and devotion that I couldn’t breathe. A deep hum of an unfamiliar melody reverberated in his chest, the joy of it made me weep. He sat there silently, simply steeped in his devotion—capturing the beauty of creation.

  “Abel?” A woman’s voice carried on the breeze. His eyes turned as his hands stopped working. The image faded to black.

  Abel’s hope faded, and I realized that the cold settling through me was the same place Gavin’s emotions used to reside. Brushing the tears from my face, I turned to Lera. “Why did you want me to see this?”

  “Because adoration ripples off this sculpture, and I wanted to watch you experience it with your gift.” She rested her hand on the sculpted mountain. “This is the oldest known landscape in the kingdom. It was found in the original cave, the one next to the cavern of the Sfera.”

  I became uneasy. Malachi thought only the ancients knew of those places. “How do you know what’s in the mountain?”

  Lera turned from the panel to face me. “My father was strong enough to see past the mountain’s protection. I think it’s one of the reasons the ancients chose him as King. He passed his knowledge to me through stories, and now I pass it along to you. It is the last entry in my journal.”

  My mind raced; Malachi stated no one, not even the keepers, was to know about the cave where his clan rested, or what they guarded. If it was written down ...

  Sick dread washed over me. “Lera, did Mia ever read your journal?”

  She gauged my reaction. “Yes.” Her opal irises turn to liquid pools of regret. “You must understand. It was a trying time. Gavin had been gone far too long, and Mia was losing faith. I thought if I shared the artifacts, if she read the journal, she would find her purpose.”

  I tried to control my thoughts, but the truth that Mia now had knowledge that could destroy Kailmeyra ran on all rails in my mind.

  Lera felt my intent. Recognition blazed in her eyes. “I’ve given her information she never should have had, haven’t I? Oh, what have I done?”

  I put my arm around her. “We don’t know if Mia is still alive, or if she’ll remember your journal at all,” I said, desperately praying I was right.

  Lera grabbed my hand with both of hers. “I want you to know,” her voice turned brittle. “Gavin being taken. It was not your fault. It was mine.”

  “No.” I looked back at the wooden plank. “Lera, it was no one’s fault. We were deceived. Even you. I spoke to the captain of your guard before he died.” Lera closed her eyes, but I had to know. “He said Ester had foresee—”

  “Princess,” she interrupted, “I’ve made mistakes in my reign, but none as disastrous as when I chose not to trust Malachi implicitly. I pray you do not follow my example.” A tear ran down the side of her face. “I should have never sought out Ester. I should have never asked. Had I not meddled, my son may still be here.” She looked away. “I think it best you go.”

  “Not yet.”

  Lera’s eyes briefly sparked with frustration. “I am the Queen.”

  “I’m glad you remember.”

  “Are you trying to anger me, daughter?” The question hung in the air.

  “Not at all, Your Grace. I’m trying to remind you of your purpose.”

  “Did the Ancient One send you?”

  “No. Actually, he demanded I leave you alone.”

  Her eyes flashed briefly with humor before sorrow dimmed them once again. “Your tenacity reminds me of my son.”

  “It is one of the traits he shared. Elias doesn’t seem to appreciate it as much as you do.”

  She weakly smiled. “I imagine not.”

  We sat in companionable silence before her mood grew wistful. “I’ve tried to contact him. Both of them.” She stared blindly past me, “Elias will not answer, but my son is gone.”

  My heart ached, the cold once again becoming unbearable. “Malachi still has hope, as do Tark and Rena.”

  “And
you?”

  My muscles tensed. Lera took in the subtle change.

  “I’m trying to keep my faith.”

  Her eyes glimmered in the light. “That is wise, Nora.” Her words were meant as a compliment but sounded more like an accusation. She sunk in the pillows, the health around her faded. “I have nothing ...”

  “That’s utter nonsense.”

  Her eyes flashed. “You mock my pain?”

  “You don’t have the luxury of pain.” My tone was harsher than I intended. I let go of her hand and stood, willing the curtains to open. “Lera ... look.” I pointed at the landscape. “Look at what you have managed. It took seven keepers, six of them ancients, to rule this realm, and yet for centuries you have done it as a widow with only Malachi answering when things got bad.” I turned back to her, rubbing my chest until it hurt. “This isn’t about what you have, it’s about what you have left to give. And I can’t do this without you.”

  Tears trickled down the Queen’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, daughter. I cannot.”

  “Lera,” I snapped. “Stop it. You’re being selfish.”

  “Watch yourself.” Her voice became steely soft.

  A few months ago, I would have cowered, worrying if I had offended her. But now ... now I just didn’t care. She had to understand.

  “What do you plan to do, just lie there?” Sweet aggression coursed through me, smothering the constant ache, and I welcomed its heat. “I come from a world where uncontrolled thoughts rule. These spark emotions, which then controls actions. Most humans don’t even know they’re being controlled. They don’t stop to question the origin of their thoughts, or if they have any validity at all. Evil reigns on Earth because humans don’t understand the battlefield of the mind.” The anger grew. “But you ... you’ve controlled your thoughts your entire life. Your very existence is determined by the strength of your mind. After all you’ve been through, I can’t believe you would just give up now. How could you?” My voice echoed off the rock walls, and I realized that I was yelling.

  “No one has ever spoken to me in such a manner.”

  My shoulders slumped; I sat on the side of her bed and rubbed my forehead. Bone deep weariness came over me. “You can’t die. Think about it. The kingdom adores you. Their grief in the most peaceful of times would be an energy drain. If you leave now, they don’t stand a chance. I can’t do this alone.”