The Keeper's Legacy: A Chosen Novel (The Keepers Book 1)

by Meg Anne

  Contents

  Map

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Newsletter

  Afterword

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also By Meg Anne

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright 2019 © Meg Anne

  All rights reserved.

  You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce, or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author.

  Permission requests can be sent to Meg Anne via email: Meg@MegAnneWrites.com

  Cover Art by Story Wrappers

  Edited by Analisa Denny

  Proofread by Dominique Laura

  Created with Vellum

  Mom, All of this is your fault. ❤

  I love you forever.

  Chapter 1

  Minutes.

  That’s all she had left before leaving the last of her old life behind. Effie straightened, the straps of her knapsack falling from limp fingers as she turned to face the beige colored cloth that would mark the official death of the girl she’d been. Once she stepped through that flap there’d be no looking back. How was it possible for such an innocent looking scrap of fabric to hold so much power?

  With a sigh, Effie turned away and went to work triple checking that she’d packed everything she might need in the days to come.

  You’re doing this for your friends. To save them.

  Letting out a shaky breath, Effie reminded herself that she was lucky to even have those she could call her friends. It wasn’t all that long ago she didn’t even have that.

  It was an unfortunate side effect that the only way she could help them was to leave. The Mother only knew if she’d ever see them again . . . if she’d ever make it back to the Kiri’s camp . . . if they’d still be standing once this was over.

  Effie started to shove items into her bag with more force than necessary, her eyes burning with tears she refused to shed.

  Some memories she’d be glad to leave behind: the beatings, the jokes, the indifference. Those she would gladly bury. No one wanted reminders of all the ways they failed simply by being born.

  But others . . .

  Grief stabbed at her heart, and Effie’s breath caught. It was hard enough to say goodbye to the living, but she was still working on how to say goodbye to the dead. Her memories were all she had left of them. She should be better at letting go by now; it was something she’d had to do a lot of recently. First with her lover, and then her grandmother.

  Eyes squeezing shut, Effie pushed their faces from her mind. It was not the time or place for ghosts. Not when all they would do is torment her.

  There was a war raging. One she now played a part in, if not on the battlefield itself, perhaps in its outcome. So long as she could learn to control what had lain dormant within her all these years. A legacy she inherited after her grandmother’s death.

  Visions.

  Prophecies.

  Nightmares masquerading as some obscure version of the truth—a truth she must learn to interpret if there was any hope.

  Effie snorted, her eyes flying open. What a joke. Who would ever believe that the fate of the Chosen rested in part on her shoulders?

  She was little more than a mouse. A nothing girl.

  Ungifted.

  The shame of the word still coiled in her stomach, choking her with its venom. Even though it was no longer true.

  There was nothing worse for the Chosen than being overlooked by the Mother or her blessing; to have none of the magic that would mark her as one of them. If the Mother didn’t want her, why should they?

  Growing up, the only person to treat her as if she mattered was her grandmother. Not even her parents wanted her once it was clear she couldn’t claim any magical ability. It wasn’t until just under a year ago when she’d met the Kiri Helena and the rest of her court that others started to look at her the same way. There was something ironic about the fact that the Mother’s Vessel, her living representation in this world, saw Effie as an equal, but her Chosen hadn’t.

  Her life had not been kind, but it was the one she’d been given. One she’d made peace with a long time ago. Now, even that hard-fought peace had been taken from her.

  Nothing in her twenty-six years had prepared her for this, for being a Keeper. Effie had no clue how she was supposed to hold the weight of the future—in all its various iterations—within her mind. Nor did she have the skill to accurately distinguish the nuances hidden within those visions—distinctions that would either save or damn them all.

  It was an impossible task. One she could not do on her own. It’s why she had to go, why she needed the Triumvirate to teach her. As the leaders of the Keepers of Prophecy, there were no three beings in Elysia more qualified to train her.

  But none of that meant Effie had to be happy about leaving behind everything she’d ever known to go with them.

  All she wanted was to learn enough so that she didn’t make any more mistakes. She knew now what happened when she misinterpreted the messages contained within the visions. Too many people could get hurt—or worse—if she was wrong again. A shudder traversed down her spine like tiny pinpricks of ice as she recalled just how close the Chosen had come to losing everything the first time.

  The reminder of her failure did what nothing else could. Determination pulsed through her with each beat of her heart, like a tiny war drum calling her to action.

  It was time to go.

  Grabbing her bag, Effie took a deep breath and lifted the heavy flap, sealing her fate.

  They were already waiting for her when she stepped outside of her tent and into the early morning darkness. The three hooded figures stood at the edge of the camp in perfect stillness. Their cloaks did not so much as ripple in the gentle breeze, which only further cemented them as other.

  “Daughter.” The spectral voice, equal parts breathy whisper and serpentine hiss, echoed in her mind.

  Effie froze mid-step, no longer certain she wanted to go with them. Once she left the safety of the Kiri’s camp, there would be no turning back. Swallowing back a wave of nausea, Effie clutched the bag in her sweat-dampened hand. Cautiously, she dipped her chin in a nod of greeting, her wide eyes never straying from their obscured faces.

  No part of their skin—skin she knew to be covered in intricate snaking runes—could be seen beneath t
heir signature crimson fabric. Nor could Effie find any trace of their gruesome visages beneath their deep hoods. For that she was grateful. The Triumvirate were terrifying at the best of times, but now, surrounded only by darkness, they would have embodied her worst nightmares.

  She’d only seen the three eldest Keepers de-hooded once before, and it was more than enough as far as she was concerned. She could still vividly picture their gaunt, hairless faces, with bottomless black pits where eyes should have been, and the thick cord that stitched their mouths shut. She shuddered. The memory alone had goosebumps racing along her skin.

  There was a ripple of red cloth, and Effie’s eyes dropped down to the middle figure’s long sleeves, waiting for one of his inhumanly long fingers to make an appearance. She could hear the rush of blood in her ears as her heart began to race. Her breath caught as she recalled the feeling of his paper-thin skin pressing against her forehead as he’d pulled one of her visions into himself, allowing him to witness what she had Seen.

  Was it only yesterday he’d touched her?

  The central figure tilted his head, studying her as she remained suspended half-in and half-out of her tent.

  Heat crept up her neck and bloomed in her cheeks as Effie realized she had been caught staring. Clearing her throat, she completed her step and let the heavy cloth fall closed behind her.

  “Do not be afraid.”

  As always, when communicating with the Triumvirate, it was impossible to know which of the three was speaking. Instinct told Effie it was the one in the middle, whom she’d always assumed was the leader, although she would not have been able to explain what gave her that impression.

  “I’m not afraid. You merely caught me off guard,” Effie lied, taking two more hesitant steps toward the trio.

  The trees rustled, and Effie could have sworn it was the Triumvirate’s laughter. She would have been insulted if she hadn’t been on the brink of bolting back into the tent. Pride be damned. There had to be another way for her to learn how to control and interpret her visions.

  A quick glance at the large tent in the center of the camp filled her with resolve. Helena was counting on her.

  Pushing her fear into the furthest recesses of her mind, Effie steeled her shoulders and closed the distance between them.

  “Well, what are we waiting for?”

  After another rustle of branches, all three figures twisted to the side and held out their right arms, gesturing for her to precede them.

  Mother’s tits, they want me to walk in front of them? How am I supposed to know where we’re going? It seemed that there would be no easing into the head games. If this was some sort of test, Effie was desperate not to fail. So rather than giving voice to her question, she obeyed their silent command.

  Gulping, she moved forward on shaking legs, taking great care to ensure no part of her touched any part of them. If they could pull visions from her mind with a mere touch, Mother only knew what else they could do. She had enough issues dealing with her own visions. No need to risk overseeing any of theirs.

  The only sound Effie could hear over her racing heart was the soft brush of her boots over the forest floor. The Triumvirate were utterly silent behind her. If she closed her eyes, she might be able to pretend they weren’t even there—if it wasn’t for the hair on the back of her neck standing on end to remind her of their presence.

  Nothing about the three of them following along behind her provided any measure of comfort or reassurance. If anything, it only served to make her jumpier.

  The crack of a branch had Effie reaching for the small dagger the Commander of the Kiri’s army had given her the night before. Ronan’s words echoed in her thoughts.

  ‘Remember what I taught you. If you’re in danger, stab first and ask questions later. Better to beg forgiveness than risk your life.’

  Without any power to protect her, Effie had taken the lesson to heart and had no qualms gutting a man if it meant she or her friends would live to see another day.

  The dagger bit into her skin where she held it in a death grip. Realizing what she’d been ready to do, Effie closed her eyes and let out a heartfelt curse. You simple-minded fool. Don’t go stabbing one of the most revered men in all of Elysia in your first handful of minutes together. You’ll likely not live to share the tale. What good would you be to Helena then?

  Shame flooded her. She needed to be stronger than this. There was no one left to count on to protect her, save herself. Did she really want to be a timid little mouse for the rest of her life? It seemed like the fastest way to get herself killed.

  Swallowing the ball of emotion that had lodged itself in her throat, Effie forced the fingers gripping the handle of her dagger to loosen and fall back down to her side.

  “It’s not much farther.”

  “We need only leave the protective barrier of the camp.”

  Stumbling at the unexpected voices, Effie’s arms flew out to catch her balance, but there was nothing to support her. A vise-like grip on the back of her cloak was all that kept her from falling face-first to the ground.

  Humiliated, Effie’s eyes squeezed shut and a lone tear rolled down her cheek. It hadn’t even been a full fifteen minutes since she’d joined them, and she’d already managed to make a complete and utter ass of herself.

  “Breathe,” one of the spectral voices ordered.

  Effie didn’t hesitate. Following orders was second nature after years spent in the service of others. She sucked in the pine-scented air, holding it deep in her lungs before it burst back out of her.

  “Again.”

  More controlled this time, Effie took another deep breath. As she let the air out, her heart began to slow back down to something resembling normal—or at least as normal as it could get given her present company.

  The hand fell away from her back and Effie braced herself for chastisement, certain that one or all of them would berate her clumsiness. When none came, she slowly turned back to face the trio. They were closer than she’d thought, their misting breaths mingling with her own.

  “This is far enough.”

  Startled, Effie glanced over the right one’s shoulder, where she could still clearly see the scattering of tents through the trees. They’d barely gone any distance at all.

  “H-here?”

  The Triumvirate’s synchronized nods were her only answer.

  Confusion added itself to the list of emotions spiraling through her. What made this patch of the forest any different than the rest?

  As if he could read the question in her eyes, the left figure lifted his hand and let his long fingers unfurl to reveal a glittering purple stone lying in the center of an unfamiliar rune that covered his bone-white palm.

  The stone, at least, Effie recognized. It was a Kaelpas stone, and it was the first thing that had made any sort of sense all morning. The small stones were very rare and did much to explain how the Triumvirate always managed to appear as if out of thin air. When activated, the stones allowed the holder, and anyone else that made physical contact with them, to travel anywhere they desired within the realm—so long as they’d been there before. The stronger the stone, the farther one could travel, and the more people that could accompany them.

  This was going to be a shorter trip than she’d initially thought. Travel by Kaelpas stone was instantaneous, but also incredibly disorientating. Effie prayed that she didn’t embarrass herself further by puking on one of the Triumvirate once they arrived . . . wherever it was they were going.

  Heavy silence stretched between them before Effie realized the trio was waiting for her to reach out and touch them so that they could be off.

  A flicker of annoyance brought a scowl with it. The least they could do was give her a bit more direction instead of letting her fumble around and make an ass of herself. Their mouths might be sealed, but they clearly had no trouble communicating when they wished to. Which only made their silence all the more damning. It was intentional. Meaning this was very much a tes
t.

  Effie grit her teeth, not appreciating the realization one bit. She might be a mouse, but she refused to be a plaything.

  When her hand lifted, it was steady. Chin tilted high, Effie stared at the central figure, imagining that she was staring him straight in those pits that served for eyes. There was another rustle of branches, but Effie barely had time to note it before her palm made contact with the surprisingly soft fabric of his robe and the ground was yanked from beneath her.

  The breath was pulled from her lungs and her body felt like it had been turned inside out. The feeling passed as quickly as it appeared, but even so, Effie was on her hands and knees when the world finally righted itself again. Swallowing back waves of nausea, Effie silently sent up heartfelt thanks that she’d manage to hold onto that small measure of dignity.

  An outstretched hand came into her field of vision, and it was all she could do not to flinch. It still took her longer than she would have liked before she could bring herself to willingly touch the inked skin.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled when the hand closed around hers and pulled her to her feet. For as delicate as those bony fingers looked, their grip on her was strong . . . and warm. Effie frowned at the unexpected discovery. Perhaps there was a smidgeon of humanity to be found in the trio after all.

  “Welcome to your new home, Daughter.”

  Tearing her eyes away from the hand that still held hers, Effie managed to catch a glance at the maw of darkness yawning before her. That was all it took before her final shred of dignity was lost.