The Keeper's Curse

by Diana Harrison

  Hot tears prickled in her eyes but she didn’t wipe them away; she would not break over this boy. What sort of monster was he, taking over her mind like this? He must know who she was by now, so why bother making her adjustment even harder than it already was?

  Emmy began her heavy tread back over towards Urquhart, her tears drying before they could fall. If this sadistic boy was going to hurt her like this, risk ruining her life, then she would fight back. She wouldn’t react, she wouldn’t go after him, and she wouldn’t lose herself in his head again. She would go back to Willow, and demand a note to prove to those horrible guards that she needed her suitcase back. She would not let him ruin her life.

  ***

  Sticking to her new plan of being the perfect model student, she took long, detailed notes in her morning classes, and performed in her afternoon classes with all the vitality she could muster.

  After school she headed straight over to the main office, demanding to see Willow. Ms. Spillet didn’t take her grave demeanour seriously at all, telling her she wouldn’t be done with her current client until five. Emmy waited.

  When Willow at last departed her office with a tiny, simpering girl, she was nothing less than surprised to see Emmy standing there.

  “I need a note.”

  “Sorry?”

  “The complex guards have my journals and they won’t give them to me. Please, can you just write me a letter?”

  Emmy knew she sounded rude and demanding, but Willow was sympathetic and promptly hurried back to her office. She returned with a piece of parchment, and signed her name at the bottom.

  Emmy could have kissed her.

  ***

  The guards, when presented with the note the following morning, looked like dogs with their bones yanked away. Emmy was taken inside the living complex, through the marvellous staircase in the lobby to where a wooden door was hidden. This led into a stone corridor filled with confiscated bags and boxes. Emmy stood back smugly while the men searched through the mountains of bags, finally finding an ugly green suitcase Emmy announced as hers.

  All the way to school Emmy had a smile on her face; not only did she have her precious memories, but some tokens of home. Pictures of her friends and family were in there, and her textbooks of Freud, Jung, Rogers, and Horney – her own personal gods.

  The only thing that ruined her mood was –

  “You can’t get in to see Willow for two weeks?” Jade said, giving her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder at lunch.

  “It’s fine, I can hold out for two weeks.”

  “So what exactly is the matter with you?” Persephone asked.

  “She hears voices,” Jade said, and Persephone’s eyes lit up.

  “Thanks, Jade.”

  Instead of looking disgusted however, Persephone merely appeared curious. It was the first time Emmy had said something to pique her interest. “That’s a good reason for seeing a shrink.”

  “It isn’t like that! It’s only one voice.”

  Persephone chuckled, drawing her fork into her mouth. “That’s promising. Does this voice tell you to do anything? You know, steal, lie ... kill the villagers with pitchforks and torches?”

  “Cause paranoia into thinking someone is watching you?” Jade added.

  Emmy raised her head and glowered at Jade. If only she knew that her precious friend was the awful person doing this to her.

  “No, he doesn’t tell me to do any of that.”

  “I’m serious,” Jade said. Emmy noticed that her attention was no longer on her or Persephone, but on a far-off subject at the corner of the cafeteria. “Someone’s watching you, Emmy.”

  Emmy followed her eyes to the corner where she was staring and was surprised with what she saw. It was a dark-haired boy reading a book who most certainly was not staring at her. Emmy recognized him as the boy from the hospital, Cyrus Crow.

  “No he isn’t.”

  “He was! I swear Emmy, he was just looking at you.”

  “She’s trying to stray you from the path!” Persephone whispered in a mock-raspy voice. “What a horrible thing it must be to be you!”

  Emmy let her forehead fall to the table with a bang.

  ***

  Patience was not one of Emmy’s virtues but she no longer had a choice in the matter. While Willow held onto her journals during their time away from each other, Emmy did her best to focus on school.

  Another thing she had learned to ignore - besides the haunting Voice – was the feeling of being constantly watched, even though she had noticed that the raven had disappeared from her life.

  She began spending an inordinate amount of time in the library, which, like in the real world, didn’t seem to be the most popular of places. Beautiful as it was, the library had a poignant smell of mingled dust and wood polish. Every step she made echoed, she being the only person in the room besides the librarian, who looked rather suspicious of her being there. She had picked up several books in primary history, politics and literature which she figured would be a good start. She hadn’t even needed a library card; Emmy had a hunch the librarian would remember her by name.

  When she returned home, Vera and Jade stared at her like she was an alien as she walked into the house with several tomes.

  “What?” she demanded, plopping them on the kitchen table, causing it to rattle and several puffs of dust to explode above the books. Emmy rolled her shoulders, trying to be rid of the stiffness the books’ weight had caused her, while silently grieving over the loss of the Internet. “I thought you wanted me to learn? It’s like I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”

  “Yeah, but that looks really boring,” Jade said with pity, tying on her apron. “Why don’t you just ask us stuff?”

  “No offense, but you guys only seem to tell me stuff when you remember to. I’m going to have to learn this if I want to live here anyway, right?”

  Vera gave a hearty laugh. “Good for you, Emmy. You have the spirit of Gabe, the only one in this family who cares about academics, bless his heart.”

  Jade rolled her eyes at the remark. “Hey, I’d do more homework if you didn’t have me pouring coffee every night! Hey Em, if you’re going to be doing that, you’re going to need some help. How about I make you a coffee?”

  “Yeah, thanks,” she said, catching up to Jade in the hallway, making her way downstairs into the coffee shop. As always, it was busy, the chatter loud enough to drown the buzzing in Emmy’s ears. In the corner was a man playing a mandolin with a bucket full of coins at his side. Emmy had learned that Jade picked out the music, and all of it seemed to be slow, weird, and slightly Indian-like. Jade hated regular music, or what she referred to as “sensationalist crap.”

  “Did you speak to your counsellor yet?” Jade said, slipping behind the counter, Emmy following.

  “I have a meeting with her tomorrow during lunch. I’m so excited, Jade. I hope she finds something useful.”

  “No kidding,” she said, strutting over to the coffeemaker. “So, what would you like?”

  “Can I just have a regular coffee? Grande.”

  “‘Grande’? What’s with your random French words? ”

  “Medium, please. You know, you can teach me how to work this thing if you want. I wouldn’t mind taking a few shifts if it’ll help Vera out. I’d like to do something to repay you guys.”

  Jade’s face brightened. “Oh, that’d be so much fun! The two of us working together. I’m always asking my other friends to work here, but none of them want to.”

  Emmy’s ears perked up at the words “other friends” – did this mean they were friends now?

  Jade began chattering about having to work too much as she made Emmy’s drink. She didn’t hate it, Jade said, but she only did it to help her mom out.

  Where is she, where is she? She’s late for everything.

  “Sacrement.”

  Jade handed her the coffee with confusion. “See! That, right there! Random French words again.”

&nbs
p; “Hey Jade!”

  Emmy was starting to recognize that voice from anywhere. She followed the sound to the middle of the shop, a hand waving above the heads. The dark red hair, which was all she could see of him, moved closer.

  “I need to get out of here,” Emmy muttered.

  Jade didn’t hear her. “Hey, Breckin! I know, I know – chamomile tea, extra large.”

  His face made its way through the crowd, and suddenly he was leaning up against the counter, grinning at Jade. “You know me too well.”

  “Unfortunately I do. If you’re going to ask me where Rozelyn is, I haven’t seen her.”

  “I wasn’t,” he said, his eyes still fixated on Jade. Emmy was standing right in front of them, paralyzed. She wanted to move, but that feeling of being pushed towards him just like she had felt when she first met him overwhelmed her. Her chest felt like it was on fire.

  Jade snorted. “Yeah, right. Hey, you’ve met the rookie right? I think you were there that day she had her accident.”

  Emmy could have killed her, but the damage was done. Green eyes darted her way, a look of recognition dawning on him. He smiled politely. “Yeah, I remember. How’s your arm?”

  Jade, walking away like she had done something to be proud of, left them alone, trapping Emmy. She forced herself to steady her shaky breathing and straightened her back. He wouldn’t get to her.

  “I – it’s okay,” she said. “I’m getting the cast off soon enough.”

  He nodded, tapping his hands on the counter to the beat of the music. “That was really irresponsible of Teddy, I’m sorry. Usually people don’t have accidents so early on,” he said, his strange voice enunciating almost every syllable in that soft tone of his.

  “I’m fine,” she said shortly. “And I’ll always be fine, thank you.”

  Despite looking slightly off-put, he didn’t react to this statement. He was good at manipulation, she had to admit. “That’s a good mind-set, especially in your position.”

  Emmy’s eyes narrowed. “And what position is that?” Her tone was about as rude as it got, but he tried to remain neutral and ignore it.

  “I just mean that you’re new to the crafter world, is all.” He leaned in a little closer as he lowered his voice. Every hair on Emmy’s body stood on end – was he going to physically attack her? “I’m not from here either. And I know it’s not the same, but Methelwood is a big adjustment. They’re pretty intense here. Borderline mad, really.”

  Why is she looking at me like that? She looks like I’m going to hit her or something.

  Emmy ignored the internal dialogue – giving him a reaction was exactly what he wanted. “Yeah, they are. It’s nothing I can’t handle, though.” She leaned in closer to him now. “Even mind readers.”

  He blinked, and then laughed. The sound was high, almost a cackle, and it pierced right through her like some sort of undetectable wave. “Mind readers? No one can mind read here, unfortunately.”

  “No one, huh?”

  The smile slipped slowly off his face.

  What did I do to her? It’s like she hates me.

  Emmy didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, but she continued to stand her ground. “Are you?”

  “Um, no.” There was an awkward pause then, the boy looking down and tapping his fingers against the counter again, as if scared to look at her. Emmy smirked; making him uncomfortable was certainly something to be happy about.

  At long last, Jade returned with his tea, oblivious to the tension between the two of them. “Alright, here you go. You can stay inside as long as you want, but don’t you dare block my line, Crawford.”

  “I’m not blocking anything, Woodworker,” he said, throwing his head back and taking a large gulp that should have burned his throat. “Anyways, I’ll see you around.” He then turned back to Emmy. “And um, you too ...?”

  The gall of him – he wanted her name? “Lana,” she said.

  “What the –” Jade began, but Emmy stomped on her foot, shutting her up.

  “Okay, bye Lana.”

  The two girls waited several moments until he was far enough away that there was no way he could hear them.

  Jade crossed her arms and turned to Emmy. “‘Lana’? Who’s Lana?”

  “Some annoying girl I hated in middle school,” Emmy said. “It just popped into my head.”

  Jade’s eyes traveled to the door where he was just exiting, and then back to Emmy with slight annoyance. “But why did you say that?”

  Emmy sighed. She couldn’t lie to Jade anymore – this boy could be a threat to her. His innocent act was uncanny. “Jade, there’s something wrong with him. I didn’t want to tell you because he’s your friend, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “What are – oh, I see. Someone told you about Breckin, huh? Listen, the rumours are bad, but he’s harmless, Emmy. Most people don’t know him like I do. And I can tell you he’s a very good person, despite what he is.”

  Emmy blinked. She knew? “Despite that he speaks in people’s heads?”

  Now it was Jade’s turn to look confused. “I – what? No! About his position in our world, if you know what I mean.”

  “No, I really don’t. All I know about him is that he tries to take over people and I think it’s disgusting. Maybe he’s done it to you, and that’s why you trust him.”

  Emmy was very irritated when Jade laughed loudly. “Breckin? An evil mastermind?”

  This was starting to get too much. There was something else important she didn’t know about him? “Well, what were you talking about?”

  “It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later. I have to work.”

  “No, Jade, I need you to tell me now. If you don’t give me a good reason as to why you trust him I’ll assume the worst.”

  Jade sighed, gazing warily at the long line up. Emmy held her stance. With a swift motion, Jade took her by the arm into the back room, where everything was made. The smell of banana bread would have made Emmy’s mouth water if she hadn’t been so upset.

  “There’s no big secret, okay?” Jade begun. “I sort of figured you knew because well, everyone knows. It’s common knowledge here, I kind of forgot.”

  “What is common knowledge?”

  “Okay, how do I explain this? Have you ever heard of the hive mind?”

  This was not what Emmy had been expecting. “Jade, what does this have to do –?”

  “You know with a hive of bees, there’s a collective consciousness? And how there is a queen bee, that has a special connection to all the other bees? It’s almost a psychic thing, the beehive mentality. It’s inherent, and she has full control over the group.

  “Crafters have something sort of like that – we have one crafter in the whole world that is a leader to us, and we call that person the Eldoir. This person has every craft, and the crafts are more potent to that one person than the most skilled crafter. He’s more powerful than a king really, because once he has his initiation ceremony, the entire crafter world bows to him. Once he reaches that full power, he can pretty much do whatever he wants – if people go against him, he can force them into doing anything. It’s sort of scary, actually.”

  Emmy furrowed her eyebrows. “I still don’t get –”

  “Breckin is our future Eldoir. He’ll go through the initiation ceremony when he’s nineteen, and he’ll be in charge of Ministrial, above all the governors of all the orbs. Obviously not everyone likes that. It kind of contradicts democracy. Scratch kind of.”

  Emmy didn’t know quite how to absorb this. Breckin was the most powerful crafter in the world, and he had a vendetta against her for some reason. “But he can’t read minds?”

  “No. I told you, crafters can only perform physical acts with the palewraiths. What’s this all about anyway?”

  “I just have a bad feeling about him. Can’t they just elect a new Eldoir?”

  “No. The palewraiths chose him when he was a small child, there’s nothing anyone can do about it. The second th
e last one dies, another is chosen.”

  Emmy buried her face in her hands, trying to steady her breathing. This was terrible. How was she supposed to go against the most powerful crafter in the world?

  “Does he have any enemies?”

  “Many. We haven’t actually had an Eldoir in over three hundred years, so there’s a mixed response. But I would say the most hostile reaction to him is from James Thoreoux.”

  Didn’t Emmy hear Breckin say that name when she was in his head?

  “Weirdly enough, Thoreoux would have been the next Eldoir, if he hadn’t renounced the position.”

  Emmy began pacing back and forth across the kitchen, running her quivering hands through her hair. “I thought you said the last one has to die?”

  “A curse was put on the Eldoir position a few hundred years ago after one – well – tried to go through with a human genocide. Since the curse was first initiated, they always died before their nineteenth birthday, until Thoreoux.”

  “How did he break the curse?”

  Jade shrugged. “Nobody has any idea. That curse has been long gone for ages now. The fact that he found it is pretty incredible, especially considering he was only seventeen or so when he did. Anyway, Thoreoux hates what he is and fled once he freed himself from the curse. He’s made it his life mission to try and destroy the crafter race. Nobody thinks he’ll actually do it though.”

  Emmy stopped her pacing. “Well, why would he? He’s one himself.”

  Jade narrowed her eyes, trying not to appear confused as to why Emmy was so interested in all this, but complied with an answer. “His family was in a sect of crazy fanatics that thought crafters shouldn’t be allowed to exist. From what Breckin told me, when the cult found out Thoreoux was the Eldoir, they tried to beat it out of him, burn it out of him ... rip it out of him.” Jade shuddered. “I mean, we all know that humans deserve to exist more than we do –”

  “They really don’t,” Emmy said.