Destiny (The Keeper's Trilogy Book 1)

by Olivia Ali

  The ground began to shake and rocks began to fall from the top of the mountain, crashing to the floor as a pile of rubble. Without saying a word, the brothers disappeared, reappearing outside of the Maw and watching as the mountain caved in on itself and Sarisus. The Eye was gone forever and so was he.

  Chapter 35 - Meet Thy Maker

  Footsteps echoed on the cobblestone floor and Tristan looked up from the book he was reading. After failing to fall asleep once again he had retreated to the Shrine as he had most nights in recent days and taken to reading his own Annals of Union. The words on the page however could only do so much and although they didn't spark off any memories, it was nice to know what to expect. He watched a shadow begin to appear at the bottom of a bookcase as he stared from where he sat in the alcove of an old shattered painted glass window which had long been bordered up. The shadow elongated and it wasn't long before it became a man - Dante.

  "Couldn't sleep?" he asked, stopping by the row of desks and perching himself against it.

  "Nope, you?" Tristan replied casually still annoyed at his outburst from earlier that evening. He was annoyed enough at himself for saying and assuming what he did, let alone how much so everyone else would be.

  "I was woken up by uh...something." Tristan nodded, an awkward silence passing between them. "Anyway, I was thinking that maybe I should back off a bit. Last night I'd had way too much to drink and it was wrong of me to jump down your throat like that. I should've just listened to you."

  "Are you trying to apologise?" Dante nodded - he obviously wasn't the sort to do so often, then again neither was he. "Well I guess you're forgiven."

  "You guess? Cheeky git!" They shared a snigger. "What are you reading anyway?"

  "The story of me believe it or not."

  "Is it any good?"

  "Bit crap really. Starts off well and then...Well bad things just keep happening to him."

  "I see! One of those woe is me stories."

  "That about sums it up if I'm honest."

  Tristan laid the book down and faced forward towards Dante in the alcove. He sighed heavily, a thousand thoughts rushing through his mind as though someone was trying to tell him something. Of course, it was only a coincidence that ever since he'd set foot in the Shrine that evening Dagnen's ghostly image had been watching him from the other side of the room.

  "I was wondering if I might ask you something," Dante said after a while, a look of torment on his face. "You don't happen to know if there are any other surviving Brothers of Union within the Keeperhood do you?"

  "What you mean besides Nielson and Linford?" Tristan questioned as Dante nodded. "There are couple of them, why do you ask?"

  "No reason..." Whatever he was going to ask Tristan next he obviously changed his mind about.

  "You know it's funny you should ask because there is another from your generation that lives." Dante’s face was aghast as though he had seen a ghost. "After Xavier died, a man named Felix was named First Keeper. In my opinion, he was the best man for the job," Tristan recited as though he had read the words from the book he had just laid down. "I later found out that he was like us...like Ramien, he was Unity…”

  "So Felicious, or Felix as we called him...he's alive?"

  "As far as I'm aware yes. They bought him back not long after you were banished to help them find some Keepers that were missing. So he created The Keys which tell the living status of every Keeper ever named. They're in this Shrine somewhere actually. Why do you ask anyway?"

  "The reason I woke up actually. I uh went to that library on the fifth floor and fell asleep. I woke up with this immense pain in my head and my mark on my hand was burning. It felt like my head were about to explode but behind all the screaming that surged through my ears I heard this cry...as though someone was calling for my help. I don't know if they meant to but, only a Brother from my generation would be able to call out to me like that. I can't think of it being Balderick because it felt like he was so close."

  "So you think Felix is here in Dilu?"

  "Yes, and he's in trouble. We need to find him if he’s here."

  "I know someone who will know if he is or not...Boris."

  "Tristan you can't trust anything that man says. Once he's told you what you want to know he'll just go running off to Hagen and that's not what we need."

  "Not if we kill him!"

  "You're serious?"

  "Well yes. We both named him therefore we both swore to kill him. We might not have meant it at the time...but that's just the way it goes."

  "Are you sure you can kill him Tristan...I mean...you're not a killer you said so yourself."

  "It's time I stopped sitting around waiting for it all to come back and do something. He's got it coming to him, it's about time he paid for his sins and it’s about time I finished what I started."

  "Well what's bought this on then?"

  "I just don't feel like I'm making any progress. I'm remembering yes, but that's it. There needs to be more."

  "So what's the plan?"

  "I'm not sure yet but I know that Boris has to be dealt with."

  "And then what?"

  "I send Hagen a message somehow."

  "What will be the aim of that message?"

  "A warning...to both him and Charles that both of them will soon be meeting their makers." Dante smiled like he would at his own protégé. Tristan was finally taking some sort of responsibility for himself for once and even though it should have happened sooner it was better late than never after all.

  Later that evening, Dante and Tristan snuck out of the Keeper Compound. Merlin and Nielson had been sat in the atrium catching up on old times so it hadn't made the task any easier. They managed it all the same though, even with Basso skulking in a corner. Walking through the night air, Dante led them back towards the Black-Market alley where Boris' shack was situated. As they neared the alley, a dark shadow appeared outside their destination. It was Hagen.

  Stopping in their tracks, Dante and Tristan pulled their hoods further over their heads and pretended to be exchanging goods of some form in an alcove of the alley. Hagen passed them and grunted as he pulled his hood over his head, not even batting an eye lid in their direction. Sighing relief, the pair continued up the market street and passed through the door of the shack with ease.

  "How can I help you gentlemen?" Boris asked as he laid eyes on the pair. He was obviously still in business hours, otherwise he wouldn't have addressed them in such a courteous tone.

  "We have an item to sell." Dante enquired, Tristan nodding in agreement and playing along mindlessly.

  "Might I see this item?"

  Dante reached deep inside his cloak and Boris' eyes remained on him as he did so. From the reaches he pulled out a medallion which he placed on the counter between them. Tristan noted the sigil on it; a mountain in the centre with pathway drawn down it. It was Dante's own sigil - that ought to put the coward on edge. Boris picked up the medallion and inspected it against the light before tracing his fingers across the smooth pattern. His face seemed suspicious; it was obvious he recognised the mark but he couldn't quite place it perhaps. He turned it round in his large hands, inspecting the crafters hallmark on the back. As he turned it back around his eyes widened as though he suddenly recognised the piece.

  "Tell me gents," he started, his voice a little shaky. "Where exactly did you acquire this...item?"

  "Some idiot in the tavern," Tristan replied trying to accent his voice as though he were mocking Boris. "This long-haired girly looking thing," He could sense Dante glaring at him, "started a fight with us. But let's just say we aren't folks you wanna be messing with. So we knocked him down a peg or two and took this from his person." Boris was silent, his expression changing from suspicion to subtle panic. "Looked like it would be worth a penny or two so we decided to make sure the next drink was on him." Boris was still silent, his eyes not leaving the cloaked strangers who stood before him.

  "Well tell us what it's worth
then?" Dante ordered impatiently.

  "Well…uh…this certainly is an interesting piece," Boris stammered finally, clearing his throat as he did so. "Looks to be a sigil of the Ashdown family."

  "Ashdown you say," Tristan joked - he was having way too much fun with this pretence. "As in the place Ashdown..."

  "That's Ashdowns you buffoon..." Dante interjected, getting a little too frustrated with Tristan's mocking attitude.

  "Same thing, right?"

  "Of course not..."

  "Actually your friend is right!" Both of them looked over at him in surprise. "The Ashdown family were the patrons of Ashdowns hence its namesake. When the Auks attacked the king took those he could and fled the country. Then one day, out of nowhere he comes out of the mist with this huge army and destroyed the Auks. They were never seen in these parts again and the king assumed his throne once more."

  "See...what did I tell you?" Tristan mocked; he could tell Dante was cursing highly under the hood.

  "Look I didn't ask for the history," Dante stepped beside Boris and folded his arms across his chest, looking down on him with a glowering stare. "I asked for its worth."

  "Well that's the thing...it has none. The Ashdown's are nothing now and seeing as this isn't gold or nothing precious...like I said, it's worth nothing."

  "Oh, well thanks anyway."

  Dante snatched the medallion from Boris' clutches before elbowing him in the side and knocking him against the wall. With his free hand, he pulled him up off the floor and Boris' hands rushed to latch onto Dante's as the life was threatened out of him. In all the commotion his hood slipped and Boris' eyes were filled with fear.

  "Dante...old friend..." he stammered, a slight chuckle making him eat his own words.

  "Old friend huh? Not me and you, you and him maybe though." Dante nodded over to Tristan who pulled down his own hood, forcing more fear into Boris' already crippled eyes.

  "How you doing Boris?" Tristan asked, folding his arms as Dante had, a sly grin on his face.

  "Tristan...what can I do for you..." he struggled as Dante tightened his grip. "Oh come on, what have I done now?"

  "Where is Felix?" Dante glowered; his face filled with anger.

  "Felix why do you...oh I see..."

  "Tell me where he is or I swear to god I will rip your face off."

  "Don't worry, I believe your threat. But I honestly don't..."

  "No lies Boris! You forget there are two of us and one of you. Not to mention, we have leverage."

  "Oh come on Dante...I have a wife...kids..."

  "You lie! Who would ever lie with you?"

  "Someone might..."

  Boris lurched forward as Tristan stepped up to pull Dante back. A smile touched his face before he keeled over in pain from the burning of his scar. Tristan kicked him in the face so that he fell on his back and held a dagger to his throat.

  "We've been here before Tabacious," he leant in close to his face and said loud enough for Dante to hear. "Only this time I will actually kill you...and you know I will."

  Boris looked up into Tristan's eyes as he stopped squirming. He watched as they filled with anger and a lust for blood. Vengeance would be his no matter what Boris was to say so maybe his futile attempts at stalling his own death were as dumb as they seemed.

  "Tell me what happened to Felix!" Tristan sneered, a thousand memories rushing through his mind of Keepers all wondering as to Felix's whereabouts; Charles' appointment as the new First Keeper; the trail of blood in Felix's office; his old friend’s face passing into a silvery liquid expanse and disappearing forever.

  "We cursed him," Boris explained, for the first time in his life being truthful. "We tried to use him to our own benefit and the curse we placed on him is the equivalent of you naming one of us. He tried to resist at first, hence why we had to put the curse into play."

  "So you made him disappear?"

  "No! That was never meant to happen but…but...someone intervened," He had been trying to say a name but it was like he couldn't. He wanted to, but something was stopping him. Perhaps there was more who he was bound to. "A couple of months ago he came back from wherever it was we put him. He just appeared one day here in the Compound and when he went on the streets he bumped straight into Hagen. He's been imprisoned up at the estate ever since."

  "What does Hagen want from him?"

  "Information. Felix has a power, that's why they bought him out of exile in the first place. They bought him out to help them locate some missing Scribes. So he created the keys so that he could tell the living status of every Keeper and help track them down."

  "So he's using Felix to find someone?"

  "You, he's using Felix to help him find you!"

  "What does he want with me?"

  "Isn't it obvious?"

  Tristan got up and stood with his back to Boris and Dante, going over the words in his head over and over again. Dante on the other hand, stepped up once again and dragged Boris up to his feet. He unsheathed his own dagger and buried it deep in Boris' side, causing blood to spill from his mouth. He beckoned to Tristan who came over and looked Boris straight in the eyes.

  "Do me a favour Boris," Tristan whispered into his ear. "When you meet thy maker, give him a message from me. You tell him that I will be finishing what I started, one by one, so to make room for all those whose time is up."

  Boris managed a smile, as though he thought Tristan's words were wasted on him. It was as though he thought Tristan would not finish him. This new Tristan didn't have half the backbone he'd once had, he could kill anyone. That was where he was wrong though; for Tristan was more himself now than he ever had been. Boris' smile was soon wiped clean from his face as Tristan smiled back in a menacing manner.

  "Now to turn you into a message Tabacious." Tristan suggested, tracing the outline of Boris' jaw with his dagger.

  "And how do you propose we do that?" Dante asked, a smile now on his face too.

  "Use the scar!" A voice commanded in Tristan's ear. He didn't bother to look; he knew he would find no one there so it was pointless really.

  Moving his dagger up to where the scar was engraved on Boris' face, he cut deep enough to spill the blood. He traced the dagger around the scar, removing the skin from the right side of his face. Boris screamed out in agony as he felt his flesh burn with pain. As the skin fell away from his face, the flesh seemed to steam as though it actually was burning. Boris clambered in panic, trying to reach up at where his scar had been but Dante kept a strong grip at his neck. Once Tristan was satisfied with his trinket as it were, he turned back to Boris. His dagger dove deep into his chest, causing more blood to spill from his lips. Dante released his grip and he dropped to the floor, blood creating a pool around his lifeless body.

  "So what do we do with that now then?" Dante asked, pointing at the skin that now hung from the end of Tristan's dagger.

  "Find me something to put it in, like a box." Tristan ordered. "It has to be something Hagen won't suspect to be odd." Dante looked around to find nothing.

  Shaking his head, he charged up the stairs to the sleeping quarters and to his delight found a plain wooden box on the dresser. He opened it up to find it empty, just as he expected the whole room would be. Boris was stupid yes, but he wasn't stupid enough to leave anything incriminating lying around where people could easily find it. Shrugging his shoulders, he raced back downstairs to Tristan and opened the box before placing it on the counter. Carefully, Tristan let the skin drop into the box before sealing it tight with an old lock he'd found in a drawer whilst Dante was upstairs.

  "When the guards come out tomorrow for the weekly offerings, we are going to hand this over to them discretely." Tristan explained with a devious smirk on his face. It wasn't so much that he was enjoying the torture that he had just inflicted, it was more the sweet taste of justice which his hands had just dealt. "It'll get pulled up when the guards go through it later and handed straight to the Barron. And when he opens it...well the message will be
as clear as crystal."

  "Not a bad plan," Dante reasoned, looking back over at Boris' corpse. "But how do we ensure that Hagen won't come here between now and tomorrow evening?"

  "It doesn't really matter if he does. Boris is dead and the message is ready. Whether he finds him or not makes no difference, he'll soon know what's coming to him."

  "That being said, what do you intend to do with Hagen?"