The Keeper's Curse

by Diana Harrison

  “I’ll let you go, but I’m going to be giving a note to your teachers informing them to not let you perform in any physical exertion for the next week.”

  Jade’s expression fell when Milo exited the room. “If his face wasn’t so attractive I would’ve punched it.”

  Emmy was the only one who laughed at this. The Woodworkers gathered up Jade’s things as she dressed into her regular clothes. Jade fell behind to walk with Emmy as they went to check out at the front desk. Her eyes kept darting toward Alex.

  “What is it?” Emmy said.

  She was jittery, like she was on a caffeine high. “Emmy, you’re never going to guess! Alex came to visit me yesterday when I was alone. Apparently he was really freaked out about my accident –”

  “You didn’t tell him what actually happened, did you?”

  “No, of course not! But that’s not the important part.” Jade gripped Emmy’s shoulder, her eyes shining. “Alex asked me to the Blossom Ball! He said he regretted not asking me out sooner, and wasn’t going to let the chance slip away again.” Jade said all of this incredibly quickly.

  Emmy tried not to show her scepticism. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I want to make sure you’re okay with it. Come on, Emmy, the day of the Blossom Ball is the most celebrated day of the year! Please don’t tell me to turn him down.”

  “Jade, I’d never do that. You don’t need my permission.”

  Emmy suffered through one of Jade’s bear hugs, trying not to look too uncomfortable. Jade then went on to tell her about this glorious ball that took place on Methelwood’s first day of spring. Emmy did her best to keep her eyes on Jade and feign interest, but all she could do was roll around the crumpled up piece of paper in her pocket, not knowing what to do with the information.

  ***

  Emmy knew she would be in trouble for bailing out of class, but she had to know. She had tried sleeping off her curiosity, tried tearing up the letter, only to put it back together again. She had spent the whole following day with Breckin, the topic always coming back to the sub-humans, and the disgusting sight of seeing palewraiths being controlled and dying.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Breckin had said. “You think the people were cursed, don’t you, because of those sick-looking palewraiths oozing out of them? Cursed by a book?”

  The topic did keep her distracted for a while, but since it was such an unpleasant one, the conversation never lasted long.

  All she could think about was Cyrus.

  It took her several tries, entering several shops and asking the employees the following morning, where she could find the Crow mansion. Her questions were regarded with either fear or blatant avoidance; no one would give her the answer. That was, until she finally got the information from a nice old lady in a boutique shop, who gave her succinct directions with a smile.

  Emmy found out that day how rare owning a private home in Methelwood was. The living complexes housed over ninety percent of Methelwoodians, so hardly anybody had exclusive property. To own a mansion was unheard of.

  After rushing to The Noir Beanery and avoiding Vera’s glances, she ran out back, grabbed a family horse from the stable, and took off bareback into the woods. Not surprisingly, the Crows were quite reclusive, which would make her ride a long one, leaving her time to think over the many reasons why Cyrus Crow might have given her that letter.

  Her muscles were so tense by the time she had arrived she didn’t even notice the toll her body had taken on her ride. Her emotional upheaval was much worse.

  Just like her teacher had taught her, she flung her body over the flank of the horse and tied the reigns to a tree. She didn’t want the poor creature anywhere near the Crows.

  When Emmy saw the Crow mansion for the first time, propped on the edge of a ridge, she almost laughed – it was exactly what she had expected it to look like. It was far older than any of the buildings in Methelwood, which were mostly made of wood, whereas the mansion was made of solid granite, flanked by crenulated turrets and lofty spires that soared up high in the clouds. It wasn’t quite ugly, Emmy had to admit, but it did look like a prison. The entire outside was patched all over with leaded stain glass windows, making it appear to have bars on the outside. On the top of almost every apex point some sort of statue of a soldier or animal rested theatrically. It was twice the size of Urquhart.

  She took a deep breath as she walked through the pillared gateway, down the cobblestone path, and up to the entrance. She expected some sort of monster to jump out that got across the general message of “GO AWAY”, but none came. Possibly the Crows were so sinister they didn’t need to threaten people not to come with trolls or ogres.

  Halfway down the path she heard a noise – a branch snapping. Emmy resisted the urge to scream; she felt so exposed in this barren field where anything could get her. Should she go back and get her horse? It would be safer than running to the front door –

  “What the HELL are you doing here?”

  Emmy’s feet gave out from under her, and she fell. She rolled over onto her back and found herself staring at a pair of leather boots. Reluctantly she raised her head until her eyes reached Cyrus’s face.

  “Why did you do it?” was all she could say.

  The side of his mouth bent downward, like the opposite of a crooked smile. With one hand he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her towards the front door.

  “You know, Rathers, I’ve really had about enough of you,” he shouted a little too loudly, as if he were putting on a show, dragging her when she dug her heels in the dirt beside the pathway. “Here you are, trying to, what, plead for my help? Did it ever occur to you – no, don’t you run away –” With surprising strength he was able to open his double doors while still holding onto her. “Did it ever occur to you that you should just give up now and stop trying to charge me when there’s no proof?”

  He slammed the door shut, spun around, and grabbed the collar of her coat, pressing her against the wall.

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” he whispered. “They can see us.”

  “I know,” she whispered back, not sure what they were hiding from. “I read your letter. You saved my life.”

  “The Eldoir saved your life.”

  “If you hadn’t ordered me to protect myself there wouldn’t have been time.”

  “I was just trying to make a point.”

  He admitted it – he had saved her. She couldn’t believe it.

  “What?” Emmy dared. “That I can trust you?”

  “Do you?” He was mocking her.

  Emmy squirmed; it was hard to trust someone always pinning you to things and staring daggers at you. Still, if this was genuine, there was a sliver of a chance she would survive this.

  “I need more,” she said. “I don’t know why you didn’t let me die. I need an explanation.”

  “I admitted to you flat out that I’m supposed to kill you. What more do you need?”

  Maybe it was desperation, but Emmy couldn’t help but notice his word choice – he said “supposed to kill you”, not “going” or “planning”.

  “I can’t run. This is the safest place for me.”

  “You’re wrong,” Cyrus said, letting go of her. “My advice to you is to run, before I can get you again.”

  She didn’t understand him. “Are you forced into doing this?” She had to know. “You could have killed me by now, but you haven’t. Will Thoreoux kill you if you don’t kill me?”

  His face went blank, smooth, pale – an emotionless mask that was the antithesis of Breckin’s face. “Yes.”

  She couldn’t read his expression, but the terror he was giving off was palpable.

  “Then run.”

  He sneered at her, but he didn’t grab her again. “I told you, he sees us everywhere. You think I’ll make it that far?”

  “It’s worth a shot,” Emmy said. The next thing that came out of her mouth was insanity. “I’ll help you if you’d like.”

/>   “You’re an idiot, Rathers. This isn’t just about me.”

  She backed away from him, hurt by the rejection. “Then who is it about? What’s worth risking your life over?”

  Cyrus opened his mouth, probably to insult her again, but he didn’t have the time. Emmy heard a thump-thump from behind Cyrus. She looked over his shoulder into the parlour he had led her into, seeing a stoned staircase, and a little person walking down it.

  “Cyrus, is there someone at the door?”

  It was a boy. A miniature version of Cyrus.

  Cyrus cast her a warning look and turned around. “It’s nothing, Brynn. Get back to your homework.”

  The boy’s eyes turned wary at the sight of Emmy. “Are you sure –”

  “Now.”

  The boy rolled his eyes but obeyed, heading back up the stairs and out of sight. Emmy’s insides twisted, knowing there was only one possible explanation for who that could be.

  “Breckin told me Thoreoux didn’t just kidnap you,” Emmy said. “They took your brother, too.”

  “Yes, and he’ll be fine,” Cyrus said, enunciating every syllable, “as long as I do what I’m told.”

  Her mind was reeling again; in a matter of days Emmy had almost been murdered, found out someone’s soul resided in her, and now this. Her assassin didn’t want to kill her.

  It was ridiculous, she knew, but she felt an intimacy with Cyrus, like they shared a kindred spirit. The only reason Emmy stayed in Methelwood was for her mother, risking her life, just like Cyrus was doing now.

  “You said you wanted to meet again in your letter,” she said. “Do you have a plan? Is there something you can do? Something I can help you with?”

  This was clearly not the answer he expected. He stared at her like she had grown a second head.

  “Help me?” he said. “Why would you want to help me?”

  Emmy shrugged. “We want the same things, don’t we?”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “I guess we do.” He circled the room to make sure none of the possessed animals were watching them through the window and continued. “Now listen to me, I’m not the only person in Methelwood working for Thoreoux. Someone is here possessing those animals and people as well. Obviously I’m not trusted completely because Thoreoux won’t tell me who it is.” Emmy took in every word carefully, and he continued. “Firstly, I would recommend destroying the spies. The faster we do that, the less information Thoreoux can get.”

  “I don’t know where they all are,” Emmy said.

  “There are a few spots on our peacekeeping grounds they seem to keep going back to,” Cyrus said. “One of Thoreoux’s people will always be on patrol, watching through the spies, but they’re a lot less careful at night since we’re supposed to be asleep.”

  “So you want to go find them at night?”

  “Precisely. We won’t have long to do this, a few nights tops, before they catch on to the pattern, so we’ll have to do it fast. I know they look deadly, but the spell isn’t perfected yet. They’re weak and they die quickly. It won’t be too hard.”

  Emmy couldn’t help but pick up on a very specific word, even while storing everything else he had just said. “They’re under a spell?”

  His lips tightened, but he answered her. “I don’t know how it’s possible, since I thought Clara Crawford took the Book of Curses with her, but yes. Possession seems like a curse to me, and the way the palewraiths are responding to it seems like it fits. Anything else?”

  “When do we start?”

  “Might as well start tomorrow night. Meet me at the stables at Urquhart at one. I’d advise you to wear a disguise.”

  Emmy continued to nod, feeling stupid for not having anything else to add. She still couldn’t believe it. Cyrus – helping her.

  “Now get out of here.”

  Emmy grabbed hold of the knocker, ready to leave when Cyrus cleared his throat.

  “By the way, I know you’ll be tempted to tell your little soul partner about all this –”

  “I won’t. For his own good, I won’t.”

  “Right. For his own good.” He was being sarcastic again. “Go.”

  Emmy didn’t need to be told again. She slipped between the sliver of an opening in the door, and ran back down the winding path.

  Her thoughts raced even faster than her legs. This was her chance. She could save herself and Breckin if everything went according to plan. Of all the people in the world Thoreoux could have picked to murder her, of all the people he had trusted, he chose the only one who would save her.

  Emmy was back on the horse and out of the Crow grounds a few minutes later, the horse skittish from the unfamiliar and unpleasant terrain.

  The surprising thing was Emmy still didn’t understand why he would save her. His brother’s life, as well as his own, was on the line, and he still wouldn’t kill her. She was a stranger, and more than that, a stranger he didn’t particularly like. A stranger who held the soul of someone he despised. Yet he still couldn’t do it. Why?

  With hope renewed in her, she couldn’t wait to tell everyone who Cyrus really was. Everyone would be flabbergasted, and why wouldn’t they be? She hardly believed it herself.

  She sighed, realizing that she would once again have to keep secrets, but this time she was doing it for everyone’s good. She would save herself, save Breckin, and now she would help save Cyrus.

  Chapter 18

  Hunting at Midnight

  Persephone came back to school the next day acting as if she had never been gone, with one simple exception: she ignored Emmy completely. At first Emmy didn’t really care, lost in her own thoughts and worries, but she soon realized it was more than just Persephone being in a bad mood. When Emmy asked to borrow a piece of paper, Persephone’s grip on her pencil tightened until it broke in half. Jade promptly sat between them and talked through all the angry silences about dress shopping.

  “This is exactly why I prefer guys,” Emmy said to Teddy in the cafeteria. “They don’t play these stupid head games, getting mad at you over something you don’t even know you did –”

  “Emmy I hear what you’re saying,” Teddy said over her. “But don’t take it out on your sandwich. It’s not Persy’s face.”

  Emmy looked down, sure enough she had jabbed her fork in her food so many times nothing left but a pile a mush.

  “Why don’t you just ask her what’s wrong?” Teddy said.

  “It’s Persephone! If I’m not careful she’ll disembowel me and hang my intestines on her wall.”

  “If she’s angry at you she’ll probably do that anyway.”

  As Emmy had feared, Persephone didn’t sit with them at lunch, or come into the cafeteria at all. Jade sat across from Emmy without looking at her, clearly worried she would be caught in the crossfire.

  “Did she tell you why she’s mad at me?” Emmy asked her.

  Jade jumped, as if she were surprised by the question. “Well, um, sort of.”

  “Would you mind telling me?” She knew she was being unfair to Jade, but her tolerance for dancing around the issue was nonexistent. Girls and their subtle nuances in communication was one of the reasons Emmy had gotten into psychology in the first place.

  “Well,” Jade said, lowering her head and separating her food into piles. “She’s angry you and Breckin have ... put a Ministrialian bodyguard on her.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve seen the guard following her around. Look, Emmy, when we talked in the hospital, I thought we were on the same page about Persy, that we shouldn’t jump to conclusions about how she knew about the ...” she trailed off, realizing Teddy was listening and nobody was supposed to know about the Keeper’s Curse.

  “I did not put a guard on her! Breckin must’ve done it.”

  Emmy was hurt when she saw Jade’s surprise. “You didn’t have anything to do with it?”

  “Of course not. How could you even think that?” She sighed and sat back in her chair. “I’ll talk to Breckin aft
er school and get this straightened out, okay?”

  “Okay,” Jade said, her voice still layered with uncertainty that felt like a punch to Emmy’s stomach.

  ***

  What worried Emmy more than anything was that if Breckin was so opposed to Persephone, who had done nothing wrong as far as she was knew, how he would react to what she was doing with Cyrus behind his back.

  She flashed a quick message in his mind telling him she needed to talk to him after school, which he accepted.

  He waited for her at the front gate, leaning against a pillar in his threadbare jacket, appearing concerned.

  “Everything’s fine,” she said before he even saw her, just to get it out of the way. “It’s Persephone. Apparently you’re having her followed.”

  He was taken aback by her bluntness, but responded. “Yes,” he said as if this were the obvious thing to do.

  She wanted to place a hand on his shoulder, but she resisted. Not only was it not public behaviour, but she knew he didn’t like being touched.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said, being as placating as possible. “But you’re wrong. She doesn’t work for Thoreoux.”

  He gaped like what he was saying was so painfully obvious it didn’t need explaining. “Lana – she knows. And she didn’t even deny it!”

  “Because it’s so ridiculous! Look, I understand, I’m freaking out too, but –”

  “I’m not freaking out! In case you’ve forgotten, you were nearly killed the other night.”

  “I know, but none of that has to do with Persephone.”

  “How do you know? I’ve been thinking about this and,” he pulled on her sleeve, away from the entrance where the students were filing out, and out of earshot. “Cyrus can’t be doing this on his own. I think he has an ally.”

  Emmy avoided his eyes and blocked her mind off from him. The last thing she needed was to feel guilty over already knowing this.

  “That makes sense,” she said.

  “Remember that portal we found? The final step in creating a portal is to have a crafter on the receiving end accept it, and until then the land means nothing. Basically, you can’t just create an orb and suddenly start traveling – someone had to be here in the first place, before Cyrus got here. Someone that already lived here.”