Old Man on the Sea (The Lost Keepers Book 6)

by AR Colbert

  CHAPTER 6

  I froze, unsure if I should stay put or run.

  “She wasn’t in the sound. We searched the bottom for hours. And there’s only one other way she could have gotten out. Where’d you put her?” Osborne’s harsh tone sent a chill down my spine.

  “I didn’t put her anywhere,” Tate said. His voice was closer to a whisper, and I had to lean in to hear him.

  “Well, I know her soul wasn’t taken back to the hall. I let the others know about it, too. I told them you had the chance to take it, and you let her get away.”

  “If I’d had the chance to take it, I would have. I don’t want her alive anymore than you do.”

  A nearly silent gasp slipped through my lips. I couldn’t be sure if Tate was telling him the truth or just trying to get Osborne off of his back, but the words stung. And though I tried not to make a sound, Tate must have heard me, or at least sensed my presence.

  “I’ve got to go.” The last word was laced with that ethereal sound that only a siren could make.

  “Are you trying to glamour me, you fool?” Osborne growled.

  No, he glamoured me. I had no choice but to walk away from the stacks. Tate’s voice still sang out in the back of my mind. I knew I was under his control, and I couldn’t resist.

  I left their quiet exchange behind and strolled to the end of the aisle, unsure of where to go next. Keepers flitted to and fro across my vision. This part of the library was busy, full of these beautiful god-like creatures immersed in their own individual studies. Lydia, the girl at the desk, looked briefly in my direction. Her mouth was a hard set line, but she said nothing.

  I could feel the tingle of Tate’s presence dancing across my skin, so I knew he was still near. I also knew better than to be seen by Osborne, which left me in quite a predicament. I couldn’t stay close to Tate, but I couldn’t drift too far from him, either, or everyone else would notice my aura.

  What did that leave?

  I figured my safest bet would be to stay hidden back between the shelves of the aisles. As long as I kept note of where Osborne stood, I could avoid him with rows of books between us, and still hopefully maintain the glamour over my aura. Pulling the hood of my jacket over my head, I dipped back and around the corner, nearest the wall.

  The first aisle was full of law books—something I should probably study up on at some point now that I was officially a Keeper. But the next aisle was far more interesting. It was a history section, the largest I’d ever seen. There were books covering every time period throughout every nation.

  Titles before me read of Agarthian families of Australia in the 1400s, hundreds of years before it would be established as a country by mortals. My fingers twitched, eager to discover the secrets kept within those pages, but now was not the time for history lessons.

  I continued down the aisle, moving until I felt the tingle in my blood begin to fade. Tate had commanded me to go away from where he and Osborne spoke, but this was as far as I could go without losing the disguising glamour for my aura.

  There was no one else around. I leaned in, straining my ears, but I could no longer hear Tate or Osborne. I appeared to be alone, and yet, I couldn’t shake the sense that I wasn’t. Almost beyond any perception I had the words to describe, I knew someone was close. And it felt as though they were watching me.

  No. You’re being paranoid. Tate’s glamour held strong. As long as he was near, no one would be able to discern that I was different.

  Physically shaking the feeling off, I browsed the books lining the shelves before me. Most on this shelf bore titles from the colonial period of United States history. One stood out more than the others, however. It was called, The Fractured Souls of Salem. Without a second thought, I yanked the book from the shelf, quickly flipping it open to discover my suspicion was true. According to this book, the Salem Witch Trials were held against real fractured souls.

  Excitement fluttered in my chest. I wasn’t fractured. I knew that now. But the thought of these individuals roaming the earth still fascinated me. After all, Tate’s entire life revolved around locating them and extracting their souls. I wanted to know more.

  With the book held tightly to my chest, I spun around to find some dark corner where I could read until Tate reappeared or broke the glamour keeping me away from him. I couldn’t drop my guard completely, but I may as well take the time to learn more about Keeper history while I waited, right? It sounded like a good plan, anyway.

  But as I stepped toward the nook at the back of the aisle, I noticed something move in the shadows. I halted, straining my ears and eyes, extending every improved sense I had to see who or what may have been lurking in the back of my aisle. But there was nothing there. Nothing but the sense of danger that tickled at my nerve endings.

  It was probably wise to go with that unnamed sense. I moved away from the shadows, back toward the center of the library. I could barely feel Tate at all when I stepped out from between the shelves, and I quickly dashed back into the first aisle I’d hidden in, surrounded by the law books. The tingle was weak, but it was definitely stronger here than it was in the middle.

  “Everly Gordon?” A soft, female voice called out from behind me. I turned to see Lydia standing at the edge of her desk in the center of the room. She held an old textbook, and watched me expectantly.

  “Yes?” I didn’t want to meet her in the center. It was too far from Tate, and standing in the middle of an enormous room packed full of Keepers was the last place I wanted to reveal my new aura. I glanced nervously over my shoulder, hoping to see him coming around the corner to help me out. But I was still alone.

  “I have your book ready here.”

  The textbook she held was turned away from me, obscuring its title. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean. I didn’t reserve any books.”

  She extended her arms. “I was told this was for you. That’s all I know.”

  We stared one another down for a moment. I didn’t want to go to her, away from the protection of Tate’s glamour. But she was clearly not going to bring the book to me. Swallowing down my fear, I dashed forward, nabbed the book from her outstretched hands, and dashed back into my little nook, barely grunting a thanks as I left her standing alone near her desk. Hopefully the movement was too fast for anyone to notice my aura.

  Pulling the hood of my jacket securely back up over my head, I settled into my seat at the table where Tate had first left me and examined my new book, pushing the one about Salem to the side. The textbook was old, and I rubbed a thin layer of grime from the cover with the heel of my hand. It’s title read, The Rise and Fall of the Manticorians. I’d never heard of them.

  Glancing up to ensure that I was still alone, I felt the tingle of Tate grow stronger. He was coming back. That was good. I flipped open the textbook, content to learn more until Tate was back.

  Scanning quickly through the introduction, I learned that the Manticorians were a group established in the middle ages with one goal: to relieve the Keepers of their power.

  What? Why would the librarian girl give me this? I flipped through the pages, allowing them to quickly fall until a natural break opened the book wider about halfway through. A note was tucked into the pages with my name written on it.

  The handwriting was small and otherworldly, slanted with odd shaped but smooth lettering. I unfolded the note and read the brief message inside:

  I have the answers you seek. Meet me at St. John the Divine tonight at midnight to learn more. -R

  I flipped the note over, looking to see if there was something I may have missed, but there was nothing else. My skin was alive now. Tate would be coming around the corner any second, so this little mystery would have to wait until later.

  Slipping the note back into the crack of the book, I noticed which chapter it had bookmarked. Rasputin: the Fallen Keeper’s Attempted Revival. My chest ached with the intense pounding of my heart. Was this from him?

  “Everly, thank goodness you’re st
ill here.”

  I slammed the book closed and tucked it into my bag at the sound of Tate’s voice.

  “We’ve got to get you out of here. Now. We’ll have to look into the prophecy another day, when Osborne’s not sniffing around for you.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Devon visited exactly six lighthouses before his body was trembling with weakness.

  “Are you sure you can’t try one more?” I asked, scrolling through the list in my spreadsheet. “I’ve got a good feeling about this next one.”

  “Everly!” Dom scolded. “Give him a break.” She turned to Devon. “Thank you again for searching for us. You have no idea how much we appreciate it.”

  “No problem. It’s definitely flexing my teleportation muscles.” He cracked his knuckles. “I’m sorry I can’t do more, but it seems to drain my energy faster when I’m going to a place I’ve never actually been to in person before.”

  “We understand.” She smiled warmly.

  “When do you think you’ll be up for another round?” Tate asked. He was almost as anxious about finding the old man from Gayla’s vision as I was, though for different reasons. Tate was becoming slightly obsessed about the prophecy. I just wanted to find my mom.

  “I can try again tonight, maybe?” Devon looked doubtful.

  “Tomorrow will be fine.” Dom stood, bringing the discussion to a quick end. “No need to force too much on the first day.”

  “But there are seven hundred lighthouses on this list.” I turned my screen back to face the others.

  “And you won’t be able to discover what is in any of them if you deplete our messenger of every ounce of energy in his body.” Dom put her hands on her hips and then turned back to Devon. “Get some rest tonight, and we’ll meet back here tomorrow afternoon.”

  Tate’s eyes found mine, his expression thoughtful as though he was checking to see if I was okay with Dom’s call. The process was painstakingly slow for me, but I would be alright. There was another secret burning a hole in the bag on my bedroom desk. I would occupy myself with the Rasputin mystery until Devon could try for the lighthouses again.

  “Do you guys want to go to the Honey Pot with us?” Sean asked, trying to smooth over the tension in the air. “They’ve got half priced baklava until four o’clock.”

  “No thanks.” I was already halfway to my bedroom door. “But you guys have fun. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

  I shut the door behind me and dashed over to my desk, carefully pulling out the book I’d been given at the library and re-examining the note inside. I hadn’t mentioned it to Tate. He had been so wound up after his encounter with Osborne that he was mostly silent on our way back to the apartment. And my pulse didn’t slow down until we’d gotten safely back inside—I’d practically sprinted away from the library once I knew the coast was clear. I still couldn’t believe Tate’s glamour had held and Osborne never found me. It almost seemed too good to be true.

  At first I thought maybe Osborne had given Lydia the book for me. It seemed just like him to set up a trap like that and lure me away from my friends. But if he’d known I was in the library, I don’t think he would have had the willpower to keep himself from taking me captive right then and there. So it couldn’t have been him.

  But if it wasn’t Osborne, that meant it had to have been Rasputin himself, which left me with so many questions my head was spinning. How would he know who I was, and why would he care? I wasn’t fractured. I wasn’t anyone of importance. It should have been easy to dismiss the whole thing as a prank, but the note said he had the answers I sought. And if there was any chance that he knew something about where my mom was held, I had to give it a shot.

  I pored over the pages of the old textbook for the next several hours, stopping only to grab a sandwich from the kitchen for dinner. I told the girls I was busy studying, which wasn’t exactly a lie. It was close enough to the truth to get past Dom’s radar, anyway.

  And in my reading I learned that the Manticorians were established thousands of years ago in the middle east. They were comprised of humans, Keepers who had betrayed their races, and fractured souls who all shared a single goal: removing the Keepers from power.

  According to the book, back in the days when magical creatures still roamed the earth’s surface, the Manticorians had used dark magic to cobble together a beast whose sole purpose was to kill any Keeper who crossed its path. The beast, a manticore, thrived on the magic of the Keepers it consumed. It was named a man-eater, though it didn’t eat mortals—only the most powerful Olympians, Atlanteans, and Agarthians it encountered. Each Keeper it consumed strengthened it just enough to obliterate its next meal.

  The beast lived for hundreds of years, but it never even made a dent in the power structure of the Keepers. They fought back. At one point, there were armies on both sides. All of the Keeper races fought against the Manticorians, and even with a few fallen Keepers in their ranks, they were never a strong enough match.

  Eventually, the beast was killed and the Manticorians dissolved. That’s where Rasputin came into play. Rasputin was an Agarthian who left the Keepers to live in the mortal world. He never hid his powers from the mortals, instead using them to rise in the ranks of the Russian empire. And all the while, he used his notoriety to re-establish a secret branch of new Manticorians.

  After several attempts on his life, Rasputin finally allowed the mortals to believe they’d successfully murdered him, and he disappeared along with any knowledge of the Manticorians. Some believed he really did pass, but others suspected he still roamed the earth to this day through the shadows, building an army of fractured souls and rebels, just waiting for his opportunity to destroy the Keeper empires once and for all.

  But did this information deter me from meeting with him? Not a chance. With any luck, I’d be able to meet with the man, discover what he knew about my mother, and politely decline any recruitment speeches he tried to give before returning home. It sounded simple enough.

  I repeated positive thoughts to myself the whole walk down Amsterdam Ave. to the enormous and elaborate Cathedral of St. John the Divine. The church was massive, taking up an entire city block, and I had no idea where exactly I was supposed to meet this mysterious “R.”

  This is a bad idea.

  The voice of the owl broke through my concentration. Of course, only I could hear it. I paused on the sidewalk, searching the fence lines and sign posts for my feathery friend. “Where are you?”

  Your eyesight is even worse than I remember. I’m in the tree.

  I squinted toward the branches on the opposite side of the street. Empty.

  Other tree. A groan echoed through my brain.

  “Oh!” I startled at the sight of him high in a branch just off to my right, on the other side of the cathedral gates. “There you are. How long have you been following me?”

  For weeks. He chuckled. But this might be your dumbest move yet. Walking around out here at night without any protection is gonna get you killed. You’re glowing like a Christmas tree.

  I looked down at my arm, though I knew I wouldn’t be able to see my aura. It was strange that the owl could, though. “You can see my aura?”

  Of course I can. I’m not blind.

  “Do you know what it means?”

  Not a clue. But it’s different, and that’s enough to get you killed.

  “That’s a pessimistic way to look at it.”

  I am not a pessimist. I’m a realist.

  “Well either way, you’ll be glad to know I’m getting off the streets as soon as I can find the person I’m meeting.”

  And who is that?

  The note felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket. For reasons I couldn’t explain, I felt like I needed to keep my theories a secret. Even though this was just an owl, I suspected he may try to stop me if he knew who I thought I was meeting. “I’m not entirely sure. Who are you, anyway? And why are you following me?”

  Could my owl be the mysterious “R?” It hadn’t
crossed my mind that the bird might have a name. But if it could talk, and it had been following me for weeks, the possibility of it bringing me a book didn’t sound so delusional anymore.

  The name is Alphaeus Chenzira. And I’ve sworn an oath to protect you.

  “Sworn it to who?”

  You.

  A door creaked open somewhere within the gates. “Sounds like that might be my person. I want to know more about this sworn oath business, but right now I have to go. It was nice to meet you, Al. Can I assume I will see you again soon?”

  It’s Alphaeus. And you’ll only see me again if you can manage to stay alive.

  I turned away from the owl and made my way to the entrance of the cathedral grounds. The bird hopped along the branches of the tree, moving deeper into the grounds with me to get a better look. A hooded figure stood in the shadows of the building, a cloak hanging to the ground. Chill bumps instantly covered me from head to toe. Perhaps I should have given this more thought…

  “Everly Gordon?” The man’s voice was like ice on the back of my neck. My feet froze to the spot where I stood. “Come on inside, darling. I won’t bite.”

  I took three shaky steps forward before turning over my shoulder for one last look at Al.

  I told you this was a bad idea.

  The man stepped forward as well, crossing the lawn and slowly lowering his hood. Streetlights cast eerie shadows on the sharp features of his face, and his long beard seemed to collect darkness from all across the grounds.

  The owl cursed loudly in my mind. Everly, run! That’s—

  “Rasputin,” the man said, extending his arm to shake my hand. “I am so pleased to finally make your acquaintance.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Rasputin’s hand was cold as ice, and it chilled me to my core. His eyes cut briefly to the flutter of wings erupting overhead as Al flew away, but they quickly returned to me, hungrily drinking in my appearance.

  “Your aura is… magnificent.” His accent was foreign to me. It wasn’t quite Russian, but more like it was from another world. He lifted a hand as though he wanted to stroke my cheek, but quickly regained control of his features and gestured for me to follow him inside.