Keeper of the Winds

by Jenna Solitaire

  Unsure of quite what to say or do, I nodded. “See you tonight then,” I whispered.

  “Yes,” he said. “Tonight.” Then he turned and headed to the front door, pausing only to put on his coat and address Tom. “Watch over her as best you can.”

  “I will,” Tom said. “Just be sure you show up.”

  Simon didn’t reply, but slipped quietly out the door.

  “I have to admit it,” Tom said. “I don’t think I like him much.”

  I wasn’t sure what I felt about Simon, so I said, “I think he’s a hard person to like in general.” The last thing I wanted to admit was that I wanted to like him any more than I already might.

  “So what do we do?”

  “The only thing we can,” I said. “We have to go to your apartment and I need to read more of the journal before tonight.”

  “Why?” Tom asked. “Aren’t you just going to give it to him?”

  I shook my head. “Of course not! I want my Board back and I need to learn how to use it.”

  Tom smiled. “You’re going to fight, aren’t you?”

  I grinned tightly. “Like the Devil himself,” I said. “They need me to use the Board, I’m almost certain of it. And that gives me a weapon against them.”

  We put on our coats and left, taking my grandfather’s car out of the garage, my mind already focusing on the battle that lay ahead of us.

  “Call on me and I will answer with all the manifestations of the winds. From the most gentle of breezes to the most fearsome of gales, I am the element of Air. Air is the giver of life, of breath, and so long as I am yours, you will not lack for my powers.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I am part of the whole, yours to command by will and effort. I am one of nine, of thirteen, of the first set. I was created by Shalizander and by her master, too.”

  “Part of what whole? The nine? The thirteen?”

  “Patience. In time you will know more and I will avail you of my ancient knowledge and powers. Your journey shall be mine and together with my brethren, we will open the way.”

  “The way to what?”

  “To the whole …”

  I turn my attention from the Board and look outside. The winds that have come since I first touched it are fierce, and the trees nearby groan beneath the strain.

  “How do I use you?”

  “You must master me with your call and I will answer, or I will master you with mine. In time, I will hear you even from a great distance …It matters little. We are one and the same. We share hungers.”

  “For what?”

  “For power. For the violent and tender kiss of the storm.”

  “What storm?”

  “Our storm. The one I called when you were angry before. The one coming even now. Can you not feel it?”

  I search with my mind outside and realize that I can feel it. It is a monstrous wall of wind that has gathered debris, hail and rain in equal measures and is bearing down on the castle even now. When it gets there …

  It will destroy them all!

  “No!” I say. “That’s not what I want.”

  “It is what you want. Your mind is very clear to me, you hold no secrets. Use me, Keeper. You no longer need to fear.”

  I feel the surge of power and know the Board is telling the truth. I have nothing to fear. I am powerful and the lord of the castle will not lay a hand on me ever again …

  “Jenna, can you hear me?”

  I wrest myself back from the vision slowly. I am me again. Jenna Solitaire. And someone more now. The last Keeper of the Boards. I have lost my Board.

  “Jenna?”

  Tom’s voice again, worried.

  I opened my eyes. “Yes, Tom,” I said quietly. “I’m okay, I think. Just tired and thirsty. My head is killing me.”

  “That was … very weird,” he said, offering me a glass of water.

  Confused, I said, “Why? What happened?”

  He showed me his watch. “You opened the journal and it was like … I don’t know … you just went into a trance of some kind. You’ve been silent for almost two hours. I didn’t think you were in any real danger, but I was starting to get worried.” He grinned. “It might have been tough to explain your condition to a paramedic.”

  Stunned, I said, “But it was only … it didn’t seem like that long. A few seconds maybe, or a minute at the most.”

  “If you hadn’t still been breathing, I’d have called an ambulance. It was almost like you weren’t here at all.”

  “I wasn’t,” I said, thinking about the last time I’d opened the book. “When I read the journal, I don’t really read. I become whoever wrote the entry in my mind, seeing what they saw when they lived it.”

  “That’s … that’s horrible,” Tom said. “What kind of magic is that?”

  I thought about my visions and, dismissing the aftereffects, said, “Good magic. I can learn more by experiencing something than just reading about it.”

  “Strange,” he said. “So what did you learn?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” I admitted. “It’s not like this book is the instruction manual of the Boards, you know. I see parts, often not everything—it’s hard to put it into context sometimes. I need to think about it some more.”

  Tom looked pointedly at his watch again. “Yeah, that would probably be wise, but I don’t think we have a lot of time left, you know.”

  “I know,” I said. “But it will come to me, I hope.”

  “For all our sakes, I hope so, too,” he said. “Are you ready to go?”

  “We’ve got a little while before we have to be there,” I said. “What’s your rush? You’re in a hurry to meet the bad guy?”

  “No,” Tom said. “But I do want one last latte before I die, if it’s okay with you.” He grinned, proving that his sense of humor was still working at least.

  “That’s a pretty good idea,” I replied. “I could use a quad-shot myself.”

  “I don’t know how you do that,” he said, putting on his jacket and handing mine to me. “I’d be awake and trembling in a corner for hours.”

  “It doesn’t seem to affect me that way,” I said. “Besides, you might try it yourself now.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s not going to be a good night to fall asleep early.”

  “You’ve got a point there,” he said.

  We walked out to the car, and the night sky was perfectly black. The storm was rolling in and the winds preceding it only hinted at its force. “What’s our plan?” Tom asked as he climbed behind the wheel.

  “I thought we’d just walk in and wing it,” I said.

  “Wing it? You mean you don’t have a plan?”

  “Tom, a week ago I was a college student living a quiet life with my grandfather. Now I’m supposed to be a magical strategist?”

  We both laughed and didn’t discuss it further. There was no point in it. If this was indeed my destiny, it would play out as it was supposed to. On the other hand, Father Andrew and Tom and Simon—wherever he was—were trusting me with their lives. So many people had already died. That was when I remembered something from years before … my mother’s name was Moira … it meant ‘destiny’ and it all clicked into place. If Simon and the journal are right, that’s who I am, I thought. Destiny’s daughter.

  I cannot, must not, fail.

  Sitting in the car across from the warehouse, I stared at the doorway and waited. There was no sign of Simon and the storm outside was getting worse by the minute. At last, I shrugged. “We can’t wait for him any longer. We were supposed to be inside five minutes ago. If we don’t show up soon …”

  Tom agreed. “They might hurt Father Andrew worse than they already have.”

  “One thing first,” I said. “I want to thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For helping me and … and for being my friend. You didn’t have to stick by me through all this.”

  Tom grinned. “Yeah, well, I wanted to pound
the life out of Burke, but Simon beat me to it. Anyway, you weren’t going anywhere tonight without me.”

  Knowing he was stronger than he looked, I smiled, and said, “I know. But thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome, Jenna.” We stared at each other for a moment, both of us thinking our own thoughts, and then he said, “Let’s go.”

  I nodded and we both got out of the car.

  The warehouse was old, with sheet metal that had once been painted a dark brown but had flaked away in many places. It looked like it was still being used, however, and that reassured me somewhat. An abandoned warehouse would have been a little too creepy. I saw light coming from beneath the door and shining through several of the windows, and as Tom and I crossed the street, the winds gusts made the metal siding creak and screech like fingernails on a chalkboard.

  “Perfect,” Tom muttered as we approached the door. “At least the sound effects are right.”

  “I’m trying to ignore it, thank you very much,” I said. “Are you ready?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I guess,” he said. “But before we go in, I wanted to tell you that—”

  The door opened in front of us, interrupting Tom’s words.

  “You’re late,” the man standing there said.

  “The lights were against us,” I said. “Are you Peraud?”

  The man laughed, sharp and bitter. “Hardly. I’m just the hired help.” He jerked his head toward the interior of the warehouse. “You were supposed to come alone,” he said. “Who’s he?”

  “My bodyguard,” I said. “Doesn’t he look threatening?”

  “Whatever,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  Wondering what Tom had wanted to say, I shrugged. “Okay.”

  We followed him inside and he led us through row after row of large crates stacked one atop the other almost to the ceiling. Most of them were labeled in black stencil: MACHINE PARTS! HEAVY! CARGO FORK LIFT ONLY! Like anyone would try to actually lift one by hand.

  Near the center of the warehouse, a space had been cleared away for a worktable of some kind. A bare bulb in a protective metal shade hung down and cast its light on the table. The shadows surrounding us were thick and heavy, and I sensed several pairs of eyes watching us. Probably more of Peraud’s lackeys, no doubt.

  On the table was the Board. My Board. It rested on a velvet cloth and its call was so strong I could barely restrain myself from reaching out for it.

  The man stopped near the table and said, “This is as far as we go.” He pointed at the Board. “Touch it and all deals are off. Everyone dies.”

  “And I was just beginning to enjoy the scenery,” I said. “Where’s Father Andrew?”

  A voice from the shadows said, “The Keeper at last.” There was pleasure in that voice, and yet, I sensed something more. “You were told to come alone.”

  I felt the voice more than heard it. It was the voice from the phone, but now unmodulated. Dark and heavy, like a moonless night or the inside of a tomb. And it was powerful. If felt like … I tried to think of something that the voice compared to and then I knew: it felt like the Board.

  Trying to gather my wits, I said the first thing that came to mind, “I’m not one of your lackeys, Peraud. I thought you’d respect someone who played by the same rules you do—none at all.” Smooth, real smooth, I thought.

  “Unfortunate,” the voice said. There was a moment of silence, and then, “Bring out the priest.”

  Two more men stepped forward from the shadows, carrying Father Andrew between them. He looked like he’d been beaten, but his eyes were bright. “Jenna,” he said, his voice was exhausted. “You shouldn’t have come.”

  “Be silent,” one of the men said, cuffing him in the head.

  “Stop it!” I cried. “Leave him alone!”

  They propped him in a chair, where he slumped in exhaustion.

  “There’s your precious priest,” Peraud said. “Now where is the journal?”

  I motioned to Tom and he turned around. I opened his backpack and took out the journal. “Here,” I said, holding it up. “The Chronicle of the Keepers.”

  The man stepped forward and the shadows moved with him. I couldn’t see his face at all, but only a dark silhouette of a human form. “Excellent,” he said. “And our bargain?”

  “Let Tom and Father Andrew go,” I said. “When they are safely out of the warehouse, I will give you the journal and come with you quietly.”

  Peraud laughed, and I felt a frozen finger slide up my spine. “My dear girl,” he said. “Why would I let any of you go? I have everything I want.” The silhouette reached out and gestured and the journal flew out of my hands and through the air into his. He laughed again. “Now you will see real power, my girl.”

  “Let them go!” I yelled. “You don’t need them. You have the Board, the journal, and me!”

  “True enough,” he said. “But in this day and age, I believe in—what is the phrase?—no loose ends.” He turned to the men. “Kill the priest and the boy and bring the girl upstairs.”

  “You bastard!” I shouted, and that’s when all the shadows around us moved at once.

  13

  “My Lord, I have the girl and the Board in my grasp, but she failed to come alone. Simon is also here—just as you predicted.”

  “Of course he is. I know him better than he knows himself. Finish it. Now. And if Simon gets in your way … well, you know what to do.”

  “Peraud!” a voice shouted from behind the crates.

  The shadowy figure turned at the interruption and Simon stepped out into the light, along with several other men, all garbed in black clothing that had helped them hide within the warehouse. Their faces were covered, and only their calm eyes glittered in the dim light.

  “Ah, the fallen priest,” Peraud said, shaking his head. “I wondered when you’d show up.” He gestured at the others. “And you’ve brought along some friends, I see.”

  “Throughout history, the Keeper has never truly walked alone,” Simon said. “Give up the Board and the journal. We won’t let you leave here with it.”

  Peraud laughed and clapped his hands together, the sound echoing loudly in the warehouse. Simon’s eyes darted left and right as more and more of Peraud’s men entered the open area, encircling myself, Tom and Simon and his men. “And who is going to stop me?” Peraud said. “You’re outnumbered.”

  “Maybe,” Simon said. “But not outgunned.” He turned and looked at me. “Jenna, it’s time.”

  Caught off guard, I said, “Time for what?”

  Simon pointed at the Board. “Pick it up and fulfill your destiny,” he said. “Call the winds.”

  Almost as though his words were commands, I felt myself take the first steps toward the Board. “My destiny,” I whispered.

  “Stop her!” Peraud shouted. “Now!”

  The room exploded into action as everyone moved at once. Tom brushed by me, heading straight for Peraud, while several of the men surged toward me and the still groggy Father Andrew. I wanted to help Simon and Tom, but the Board was calling to me now. I heard it, as clear as I had in the visions.

  “Call to me and I am yours.”

  I continued moving forward, ignoring the raging brawl going on around me.

  “Call to me, Keeper. My power is yours to command.”

  I reached the table, my hand outstretched for the Board, but before I could grab it, I heard a sound that stopped me cold. Tom was screaming.

  My head snapped around to look for him and I saw him, kneeling on the floor at Peraud’s feet. He clutched his head in his hands, and his voice rose in a horrid shriek of pain. Peraud was laughing, holding a hand over his fallen enemy. My friend.

  “Stop it! Leave him alone!” I yelled.

  “Jenna!” Simon called. “You must get the Board!”

  I turned and watched him backing away from two attackers, his hands loose at his side. He didn’t look worried about the ensuing fight at all.

  I had to use the Board
and I tried to reach out with my mind. “Help me! Bring the winds!”

  There was no reply, and it continued only to repeat its earlier plea: “Call to me and I am yours.”

  I didn’t understand and the first stirrings of panic stirred in my belly. Two of Peraud’s men grabbed Father Andrew and lifted him to his feet. They dragged him backward, striking him in his stomach and head as he struggled weakly to escape.

  “Help me!” I mentally cried to the Board. “Please!”

  “Call to me and I am yours.”

  Discouraged, I turned back to where Tom had been kneeling. Somehow, he had found the strength to get to his feet, though tears of agony streamed freely down his face. Gritting his teeth, I heard him say, “You … will … not … hurt … her!” He lurched forward, trying to grab Peraud.

  I felt my heart constrict as Peraud waved his hand nonchalantly. “Enough,” he said.

  Tom shrieked again and flew up into the air. Peraud flicked his long fingers again and Tom sailed into a stack of crates, smashing into them with bone-crushing force.

  Stricken, I cried out as Tom fell to the floor, motionless. His face was ashen and he looked … he looked dead.

  “NO!” I screamed. “Stop it!”

  Peraud leapt toward me and before I could move, had me in his grasp. He spun me around to one side and wrapped a forearm around my throat. I still couldn’t see his face, but his strength was evident. In my ear, he whispered, “Tell them to stop, or everyone that you love will die.”

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked, watching helplessly while Simon and the men he had brought with him were being outmatched.

  “For power, of course,” Peraud said. “Power that you will help me achieve. What else is there?”

  “In your world,” I said, “probably not a lot.” I scanned the room and knew we were defeated. “Stop!” I yelled. “Simon, that’s enough!”

  Slowly, the combatants separated, all of them looking at me. Peraud kept his arm wrapped around my throat.