Ancient History (The Lost Keepers Book 1)

by AR Colbert

  “Keepers.” I chewed on that for a moment. “Keepers of the earth.”

  “Land, sky, and sea, to be precise.” Millie took another bite of her salad.

  “Okay. So you’re Keepers with immortal souls placed here to protect the humans. But you still haven’t told me where Atlantis is.”

  “Well it used to be in the Mediterranean Sea,” she said bitterly. “But our ancestors went and ruined that for us about 12,000 years ago.”

  “They got a little too big for their britches,” Claudia added.

  “So now it’s at the bottom of the Atlantic.”

  The maid entered again, removing our salad dishes and replacing them with dinner plates. The scent of individual stuffed cornish hens danced across my palate, making my mouth water. Once the maid left, I spoke again.

  “Legend says the gods created some kind of cataclysm that destroyed Atlantis. Is that true?”

  “Ha! They wish they were gods.” Claudia cut into her meal.

  “Humans didn’t know what to make of us,” Millie said. “They recognized that we were more powerful than they, so they assumed we were gods. Or half-human, half-god. But they were obviously wrong. We’re just a different type of being altogether.”

  “So you destroyed yourselves?” That didn’t make sense.

  “No. We got into it with some of the other Keepers. Tensions were mounting between the three races, and unfortunately our ancestors enjoyed being thought of as gods by the humans. They took things too far, so the other Keepers had to take matters into their own hands.”

  “Checks and balances,” Claudia added through a mouthful of food.

  “So there are three races of Keepers?”

  “Yes, my apologies. It’s been a century since I’ve had to review the history with someone. I forget that you were brought up as a human. There are the Atlanteans, that’s us, the Keepers of the sea. There are the Olympians, the Keepers of the sky, and there are the Agarthians, Keepers of the land. We were supposed to work together, but even Keepers are susceptible to corruption.”

  “And egos. Especially those Olympians—they’re still on a power trip.” Claudia rolled her eyes.

  “There’s been a rift between the three races for thousands of years. We generally don’t associate with one another anymore, except for the annual Order of the Keepers convention. But we each have important roles to play in protecting the humans. And there are laws we must abide by. Which brings me back to your mother.”

  A pang of guilt stabbed at me. I’d been so caught up in the outrageous story of Keepers that I’d temporarily forgotten the reason I wanted to learn more in the first place.

  “Right. My law-abiding, Atlantean mother. Are you suggesting she’s gone on some human-saving mission?”

  “No, I’m afraid not.” Millie rested her fork and frowned. The others stopped eating as well, all eyes fixed on me. “She may be on the other side of the law. Your mother didn’t exactly play by the rules.”

  “What do you mean?” My pulse picked up. Mom always played by the rules. I couldn’t imagine what the Altlanteans might have disagreed with.

  “Well,” Claudia spoke now, “she had you.”

  CHAPTER 10

  “Me? Why is that a crime? Are you not allowed to have children? What about him?” I pointed harshly toward Sean, who raised both hands innocently in the air.

  “Of course we can have children, it’s just that…” Claudia shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “It’s just that there are rules.”

  “You mentioned that. What did she do wrong?”

  “We can’t prove that she did anything wrong.” Millie set her lips and turned with a pointed stare toward her friend. Claudia gestured toward me but my aunt waved her off. “We don’t know anything for sure just yet.”

  Millie softened her expression and faced me again. “Our kind, the Keepers, have immortal souls, as we mentioned earlier. Our bodies last longer than human bodies, as well. We’ll often live for close to a thousand years before our bodies give out. And when that happens, our souls are reincarnated. There are a finite number of Keepers. A finite number of souls.”

  “So your souls are basically recycled over and over again. Got it. Does that mean you remember life on Atlantis before it was destroyed?” It was an unimportant question, but I couldn’t help but ask. If Atlantis was real, I wanted to know everything there was to know about it.

  “No. Unfortunately we are unable to keep specific memories. But our collective knowledge as a race grows with each successive generation. And there are certain ties—bonds that can be felt in every generation. The most obvious being our soul mates. You see, every Altantean soul is bonded to another. And in each life, the souls find one another.” Millie smiled, though her eyes looked pained. I imagined she may have been thinking of her own soul mate. Or did she have one at all?

  “So if an Atlantean has a relationship that results in children with someone from another race, like, I don’t know, humans for example, then we lose a couple of Atlantean souls.” Claudia scowled, and I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty under her gaze.

  “Forever?” My voice was more timid now.

  “Forever.” Millie nodded sadly. “A female Keeper can physiologically only have two children in her lifetime. If even one of those children is part human, a soul is lost. Possibly two souls, depending on the genetics.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the child may have the soul of a Keeper if she takes completely after her mother. She may have the soul of a human if she takes completely after her father…” Millie frowned, and her eyes went distant—lost in a thought she couldn’t utter aloud.

  “Or she may be fractured, which is what usually happens.” Sean, of all people had to finish my aunt’s words. The women were too distraught, staring down into their laps.

  “What happens to the fractured souls?” My voice was barely a whisper now. Sean locked his eyes on mine, deep green pools of pity. I held his gaze, the silence in the room snuffing out my ability to look away.

  “Never you mind that.” Millie grinned, snapping back to the present. She tried to improve the mood with overt cheerfulness and failed. We weren’t a very cheery bunch at all in that moment.

  The maid entered once again, taking my plate before I’d had a chance to finish off my wild rice. I almost objected, but I needed her to leave again so I could get the rest of the story. It seemed they were accusing my mother of hooking up with a mortal, but I would need to hear them say it before I believed it. And I feared what the implications may be if it were true.

  A giant slice of turtle cheesecake was placed in front of me next. I resisted the urge to dig right in. First, I needed my aunt to confirm my suspicions. And then I needed to find out how to bail my mom out of Atlantean jail for getting involved with my deadbeat human dad and literally creating some poor lost soul.

  Even as I thought the words, doubt clouded my mind. My mother wasn’t the type to break rules, especially not rules with such dire consequences.

  Finally, the maid retreated with our dirty plates and we were free to speak again. “Okay,” I said. “So let’s get to the elephant in the room and talk about my dad.”

  “Yes. Let’s.” Claudia crossed her arms and shot a smug look at my aunt.

  But Millie handled the situation with grace. “This is where things get tricky. Your mother ran away when she found out she was pregnant with you. None of us knew she was in a relationship at all, and when we asked her about it, she panicked and left. It took us years to locate her, and even then we were only able to do so with the help of a seer.

  “We found your farm in Oklahoma, but you and your mother lived there alone. Tilly refused to discuss your father. She would get physically ill anytime we pressed her on the matter. I think it was a curse, personally. I think she has been forbidden to speak of your father, which makes me believe he is a very powerful Atlantean, indeed.”

  “Or,” Claudia butted in, “what’s more likely
, is that your father is a mortal. Tilly would never reveal that information because she’d have to face the courts, and they do not take kindly to the murderers of our souls.”

  I cringed. My mother a murderer? Surely not.

  “So that brings us to you. You’re eighteen now, right Everly?” Claudia fixed her blue eyes on me.

  “That’s right.”

  “And you have not developed your powers yet.” It was a statement more than a question.

  “Powers?”

  “See?” Claudia sneered at my aunt.

  Millie sighed. “There are certain… perks that come with being a Keeper. We have abilities beyond what humans are capable of. And generally, they begin to manifest between the ages of sixteen and eighteen. But sometimes there are late bloomers!”

  I swallowed. “What kind of powers are we talking about, here?”

  “They vary through the different races, and even within the Atlanteans they can manifest in many different ways. I am a healer. The Olympian who helped us locate your mother was a seer. There are warriors, elementals, transporters, guardians, sirens, shifters…” she counted them off on her fingers, each one sounding more exotic than the one before.

  “What kind of powers does my mom have?”

  “Your mother was a messenger.”

  “Was?”

  “Yes. She had her powers bound when she ran away. She gave them up for you—in an attempt to stay hidden.” Sadness tugged at Millie’s lower lids. I’d never seen my aunt cry. I didn’t even know if Atlanteans could cry. But this was as close to losing control of her perfect features as I’d ever seen her.

  Whatever powers came with being a “messenger,” my mother had sacrificed them. For me. But why? If I were Atlantean, there would be no need to give up her powers and hide. The longer I sat there, the more I conceded that Claudia may be right. I wasn’t pure. I was mortal.

  As though she could see the thoughts percolating through my mind, Millie continued, trying her best to prove that there was still a chance my mother hadn’t broken the rules. That she hadn’t lost an Atlantean soul.

  “But there are certain commonalities among all Keepers. One of which is a higher level of intelligence. And you, Everly, have an IQ much higher than humans, which is why I’m certain you must be of Atlantean descent on both sides.” She crossed her arms and turned toward Claudia with a smug smile, like she’d just won a big court case.

  “I’m sorry, Millie. But that’s just not true. She could have easily inherited her intelligence from her mother even if her father was mortal. And without any other powers, I’m inclined to believe this is exactly what has happened.”

  Both women fixed their eyes on me, waiting to see if I could settle their argument. I could memorize facts and take tests like a boss, but that didn’t seem all that special. I would never say anything to condemn my mother or the decisions she made, though. Surely there was something I did better than everyone else…

  “Is snarkiness a superpower?”

  Millie groaned and Claudia frowned. I turned toward Sean, but he wouldn’t make eye contact with me. He seemed hesitant to jump into the conversation again. I couldn’t blame him. This was awkward for all of us.

  “There’s still time. She’s only just turned eighteen this summer. There’s no need to rush into anything, including having my sister tried for a crime she may not have committed. So if you know who has taken her, I really must urge you to have them return her.” She eyed Claudia with suspicion heavy in her eyes.

  “I told you on the phone earlier, Gregory said he has heard nothing about your sister. If the council sent for her, he would have known about it. And as for Everly, you better hope she’s fully Atlantean. Because if she’s as smart as you say, then she’s not purely mortal. And…” Claudia bit her lip to stop herself from saying any more.

  “Unless I get some powers soon, that would mean I have a fractured soul.” I finished her thought.

  The entire room seemed to darken at my words. Silence hung in the air for longer than was comfortable. It was Lemon Drop who finally broke it with a small whine.

  “I’ll let her out,” I said. “I could use a breath of fresh air right now, too.”

  CHAPTER 11

  My steps were quiet as I slowly led the dogs out of the dining room, but once I hit the stairs, I took off hard and fast, my feet pounding every other step as I sped down to the first floor. Pierre was a blur as I bounded past the kitchen toward the small courtyard off the back of Millie’s townhouse.

  The cool evening air was a relief for my senses. The air back home would have been hot and muggy, even after the sun went down. I would have relaxed on my back patio and heard the song of cicadas while watching a show of lightning bugs dancing through the air. In NYC, however, I had chill bumps dotting my bare arms in the August evening air. My cicadas were replaced with the sounds of Manhattan nightlife, and my lightning bugs were replaced with street lights. But the outside air was a relief all the same.

  Lemon Drop and Tiny Tim were a little worked up. They’d taken my speedy run down the stairs as a signal for play time. “Not now,” I said, trying to calm them with open hands. “Go potty.” I directed them to the itty-bitty green area designated as their toilet at the back of Millie’s first floor outdoor space. They spun excitedly, still under the impression that I was going to throw them a tennis ball or something equally fun.

  “You’re right,” I said. Lemon Drop sat and turned her head sideways. “We’re only a block from the park. Let’s go.” Back inside, I leashed the dogs up and hollered something to Pierre about taking the dogs for a walk.

  I didn’t fear the New York streets like the other girls from back home. In middle-of-nowhere Oklahoma, we didn’t lock doors. We left keys in our cars and didn’t even knock before strolling into each other’s homes. In comparison, New York was a scary place for them. They’d spewed warnings and stories and words of caution before I left for school here, but I wasn’t afraid—it never bothered me too much. And even if it had, I wasn’t the least bit nervous with four hundred pounds of dog on my sides.

  Millie only lived a short walk away from Central Park, so I wouldn’t be long anyway. With leashes wrapped around each fist, my canine companions and I set out for wide open spaces—or as wide and open as we could get in the city.

  Locating a paved path, I turned into the park, allowing the dogs to lead me. They’d been here way more than I ever had, so I figured I’d let them take the reins. They weaved off to the right in tandem, as though they visited the area daily. Lights were more sparse here than where we’d entered, and there were fewer people meandering around. A lone jogger passed us on the sidewalk, and then we were alone.

  “Alright, guys. Hurry up and go so we can get back home.” The longer I stood, watching them sniff the ground, the more uncomfortable I became with my surroundings. Darn those Oklahoma girls for getting into my head!

  The dogs continued to sniff and circle, marking various spots as we walked. They may have stayed in the park all night if I’d let them. But I’d had enough. With a gentle tug on their leashes, I called them back. Tiny Tim turned, tongue lolling over the side of his slobbery mouth. With an extra bit of pep, he bounded toward me. I held out my hand to praise him with a pat on the head, but he didn’t stop. He kept right on past me, spinning me around with the leash in my hand. I spotted him again behind me, running right up to the tall, dark silhouette of a man.

  “Oh my goodness!” I gasped.

  The figure strode slowly toward me, shadows still hiding his hooded face. Tiny Tim didn’t appear to be concerned, but he was such a gentle giant that he wouldn’t recognize danger if it knocked him on the head. And this danger was just close enough to do that.

  Lemon Drop joined them now, too. “Watch out. They bite.” I made my voice loud and as imposing as I could, but still the figure persisted. I stepped back, tugging at the dogs’ leashes with every step the man made toward me. Finally, I entered a ring of yellow light from a str
eet lamp. It cast a long shadow in front of me, leading right up to the feet of the hooded man. He stepped forward once. Twice. And the light struck his shadowy features on the third step.

  He pulled down the hood of his gray sweatshirt, revealing the sharp chiseled lines of his handsome face. “What on earth are you doing in Central Park by yourself after dark?”

  My breath released with a whoosh as I looked into those golden eyes, twinkling in the light. “I’m not by myself. I have my guard dogs with me.”

  “They’re pretty ineffective guard dogs,” he said, scratching a very happy Tiny behind the ears.

  “What are you doing here, Tate?” The absurdity of running into the same person three times in one day hit me. That combined with my still-racing heartbeat made my words sound harsher than I’d intended.

  “I was out for a run.”

  His clothing checked out. But still, it was strange. Something told me this wasn’t just a coincidence.

  “Everly!” Sean’s voice called out through the darkness and Lemon Drop tugged excitedly to go meet him. Two guys calling for my attention at the same time—if only middle-school Everly could see me now.

  “Over here!” I called back.

  Tate shoved his hands into the pockets of his joggers and raised his brows. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were out with your boyfriend.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.” My cheeks flushed at his insinuation. Or was he simply trying to determine whether or not I was available? “We just met tonight. He’s the son of a family friend.”

  Sean finally reached us, approaching with some apprehension. “Your aunt’s looking for you.” His frown morphed into a scowl as he took in Tate’s form across from us. First mom, then Sean. Poor Tate couldn’t catch a break. Who knew it was such a hardship to be so beautiful? They hated him on sight.

  “Do you know this guy?” Sean gave me a skeptical look.

  “Sort of. We met at the gallery earlier.”