The Concealed (The Lakewood Series Book 1)

by Sarah Kleck

  Dressed and with my hair dried, I left my room to look for Jared and ran into Jessica. Apparently, she’d stood outside my door the whole time. The poor girl was so frightened it looked like she’d tear up at any moment.

  “Jessica,” I said, surprised, “what are you doing here? Can I help you with anything?”

  “I’m . . . sorry . . . I,” she stammered, ashamed.

  “Jessie, please leave Evelyn alone.” Enid came along the corridor. “Sorry, Evelyn—but it seems you’ve acquired a fan.” Enid smiled while putting an arm around her daughter.

  “It’s all right,” I said and brushed my hand over the girl’s hair. She was really sweet. “Do you know where Jared is?” I asked Enid.

  “In Karen’s office. She wanted to talk to him.”

  “Ah.” Surely this was about me again, or rather, about how Jared was not supposed to be with me. Because of this dubious old prophecy from a millennium and a half ago.

  “Shall we take you there?” Enid asked.

  “Oh, please.”

  “How do you like it here?” Enid asked as we walked along.

  “Good. It’s just . . .”

  Enid turned to me. “What?”

  I exhaled. “Enid, can I ask you something?”

  “But of course.”

  “You appear to like me . . .”

  “Yes, I do like you.”

  I smiled. “Well, most people here don’t seem to have a problem with me, but some others . . .” What was their attitude toward me? Distrust? Hatred? Jealousy? I didn’t have a clue. “Some people don’t seem to be particularly fond of me. I’m wondering why.”

  Enid looked at me with empathy, then turned with a smile to her daughter. “Jessie, why don’t you see if you can help Hilda in the kitchen? I’m sure she’s already preparing supper.”

  “Oh, Mom,” Jessica said unenthusiastically. “She’s gonna make me peel potatoes again.”

  “Be a dear,” Enid said, sending Jessica grumbling on her way to the kitchen.

  “See you at supper,” I called after her, whereupon she turned one last time and smiled.

  “She likes you for sure,” Enid said as we continued walking through the long corridors.

  Then Enid looked pensive. “The reason why some members of the Circle aren’t particularly friendly toward you is that they believe you constitute a danger to Jared.”

  “Because of the Prophecy,” I said. “The Prophecy that supposedly foretells that I’ll do something to Jared, right?”

  “Yes,” Enid said and breathed deeply. “It’s an odd thing about the Prophecy.” She paused. “It doesn’t outright say that Jared will be killed by his lover. It’s about life and death and how they relate to each other. The meaning of any prophecy is a matter of interpretation. Some understand it this way, others that way.”

  “So Karen, Claire, and some others believe I’ll do something to Jared, but you, Irvin, and Colin don’t?”

  Enid nodded. “I believe you’re as innocent as Jared. In my opinion, there’s only one enemy.”

  “Morgana,” I mumbled, and Enid nodded again.

  “I’ve read the Prophecy,” I said a moment later.

  She looked at me, astonished. “Where?”

  “In a book a friend lent me. Unfortunately, it was destroyed during the fire in my dorm room.”

  Enid was silent for a second, then looked at me. When she spoke, her voice had taken on a meaningful, almost grave, tone:

  The blind heart tormented by longing,

  Readily walks into darkness so far.

  Deprived of its light, deprived of its might,

  Only Death watches over the wight.

  I nodded with difficulty. Enid, too, required a moment before she could continue.

  “There are many ways of interpreting this verse,” she finally said.

  “I would never harm Jared,” I said a moment later with a heavy heart.

  “I know.”

  CHAPTER 19

  The next few days passed in the same way: I got up in the mornings, drove to the College with Jared and Colin, and tried to lead the life of a perfectly normal student—at least, to the extent this was possible in the company of Gareth, with whom I’d become friends in the meantime, and Ian, another member of the Circle. Both followed our every step. During the break, Jared and I ate lunch with Colin and Sally. However, these shared lunches and the lectures Sally and I attended together were the only things that continued to connect us. In the afternoon, Jared and I always drove back to the headquarters, where Colin trained me and Jared watched. Jared insisted on being there since Colin had accidentally hit me the first time. Initially, this bothered Colin because Jared intervened every time the training got a little rough. Nevertheless, I made good progress, and my trainer was quite satisfied with me despite Jared’s presence.

  Things were good except for the fact that I missed Sally and always had sore muscles from the training. Actually, you could even say I was . . . happy. Jared and I spent almost the entire day together and slept in the same bed every night. But sleeping in the same bed was the only thing we did. After the incident with the sound system, we decided to take things slow—at least, until he could find a way to control his magic.

  One afternoon after a particularly hard training session, I flopped down on the bed.

  “I want to show you something,” Jared said, glowing, as he took me by the wrists and pulled me up.

  “What?” I asked as he gently pushed me out the door.

  “A room I haven’t shown you yet,” he said as he led me along a narrow corridor. It was in a part of the huge building that I’d never been in before. Just as I was about to ask how far it was, Jared stopped in front of an unassuming door. Unlike most other doors here, it was not decorated with elaborate carvings, and it appeared rather plain and modern. Apparently, it had been retrofitted. Only when looking more closely did I notice that it wasn’t secured with just one but three different locks at different levels. Jared pulled a key ring from his pocket and opened the locks in sequence, each lock with a different key. When he was done, he turned to me, beaming with joy.

  “I’ve wanted to show you this for a while,” he said. “It took me a lot of persuading to get the keys.”

  I could barely contain my curiosity. If you needed to lock something behind three locks in a safe house, whatever was in the room had to be something very special.

  Jared finally pushed the door open. “This is the relic room.”

  I stepped in full of anticipation, not knowing where to start looking. I was in the middle of a medieval museum. I first noticed the mighty bookshelves that immediately reminded me of the part of the College library where I’d found the Calmburry chronicle. Then my eye caught the large glass cases. Some were mounted on the wall, some were freestanding, and they all held pure treasure. Golden chalices, sparkling rings, necklaces and armbands, shining daggers . . .

  “Wow,” I said when I had surveyed the room and finally stopped in front of the largest case. This massive glass case contained a huge sword, whose brilliant blade and jewel-encrusted handle shone in the brightest colors.

  “Is that . . . ,” I said, not daring to trust my eyes. “Is that . . . what I think it is?”

  “Excalibur himself,” Jared said proudly, pulled the key ring out of his pocket again, and opened the glass door.

  Suddenly I needed to sit down. By now, I really should have been able to handle these situations better, but each new confrontation with Jared’s world of magic and legends threw me completely off balance.

  “It belongs to Colin,” he said, moving his fingertips in awe over the brilliant blade.

  I have no idea how long I stood there observing the legendary sword. Only when Jared locked the case again and led me to another corner of the room was I able to turn away from it.

&nbs
p; “Look,” Jared said, pointing at a thick book lying open on an ancient, one-legged table made of polished mahogany. “You once asked me about the members of the Order.” He pulled me over to the book to carefully look through it. “They’re all listed in chronological order here. From its foundation in the fifth century to the present.”

  I stood beside him with anticipation.

  “Have a look,” he said, smiling. I looked in wonder at the book. The binding and the faded pages reminded me of the Calmburry chronicle, which immediately aroused my interest.

  “Look here,” Jared said, as he opened to a page in the last third of the book, and pointed at a name written in elaborately arched letters.

  “Jean-Jacques Rousseau?” Jared nodded. I impatiently moved my index finger along the list of names until three more caught my eye. “Queen Victoria? Charles Dickens? Albert Einstein?” My voice sounded shrill. “This is wild!” Again, my finger moved over the pages. “Pierre and Marie Curie . . . Oh my God!”

  “Impressive, isn’t it?” Jared said, smiling. “When I was little, I spent entire evenings leafing through this book.”

  “I can see that,” I said and suddenly had an idea. Didn’t Jared say that I’d be surprised who the members of the Order were these days? I hastily turned the pages to the back, which held the latest entries. I almost became dizzy glancing over the pages. Interspersed between names I’d never heard before were a British bestselling author, a musician, two actors, a top athlete, a few company executives, and even a head of state.

  “Wait a second!” Jared said and stopped. He pressed his finger on the page I was about to turn. Suddenly, he stiffened and stared with wide eyes at the open book. I couldn’t tell which name had rattled him so much.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “I . . .” He wrestled with his words, and I could tell his brain was running at full speed. “I have to talk to Karen,” he finally said with difficulty, swallowing hard. “Do you feel like taking a bath or something?” he asked, unable to hide the nervous undertone in his voice.

  “Jared, what’s the matter?” I asked after he’d shut the book and gently guided me toward the door.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” he said, once again sounding like his usual controlled and convincing self. He kissed me on the tip of my nose as he led me out into the hallway.

  “Okay,” I said skeptically. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

  “Good. Till later, babe,” Jared said before he disappeared down the hallway. I was almost certain he’d run once he was out of sight. I looked after him, shaking my head. What had he discovered in that book that caused him to take off? He’d been so completely distracted that he’d forgotten to lock the door again. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this, but right then there was only one way to find out!

  As quietly as possible, I went back to the relic room and closed the door behind me. I stepped up to the book and opened it where I believed Jared had read the name. Just to be sure, I flipped five pages back and went through the register line by line. I was able to remember a few of the names, so I knew I hadn’t passed the page I was looking for.

  “Roberta Flackman, Ray Jackson, Selma Forbes . . . ,” I mumbled to myself without noticing anything out of the ordinary. I probably wouldn’t recognize the name Jared had reacted to so strangely. Maybe it had something to do with his family.

  “Lewis Haller, Grace Middton, Gerald Barner, Frank Tempton . . .”

  I felt a shock and suddenly froze. I stared at the letters I’d read last as if struck by lightning. Frank Tempton? I wrestled for air. That Frank Tempton? The man who was sentenced to prison for life for the murder of my sister? Stunned, I stared at the book as a sudden intense dizziness overcame me. I numbly went over to the leather couch on the other side of the room and sat down.

  Frank Tempton was a member of Legatum Merlini? What did that mean? Quickly, I jumped up and ran from the room. A few seconds later, I arrived at Karen Mayflower’s office and stopped in front of her door. It was still shaking on its hinges. Jared must have slammed the door shut—he couldn’t have been there for long. I had just reached out for the door handle when I heard Jared’s voice inside. I withdrew my hand and placed my ear against the door.

  “Colin was right, wasn’t he?” Jared’s words were loud and clear. “He was right all along!” It was impossible to miss the rage in his voice.

  “Jared, please,” Karen said, attempting to calm him down, but he wouldn’t let her have a word.

  “You’ve told me this lie since I was a boy!” Lie? I moved closer to the door.

  “Evelyn never was a danger to me, just as Nimue never was a danger to Merlin—she loved him! She could never have harmed him!” Jared took in a big breath. “There never were two enemies. There was always only Morgana. Just her!”

  “Jared, I—”

  “You invented this crap to keep me away from Evelyn, didn’t you?” he asked, his voice sounding dangerously calm.

  I looked down the corridor to ensure I was alone and again pressed my ear against the dark wooden door and listened, spellbound.

  “Jared, that—”

  “Does the name Frank Tempton mean anything to you?” he asked with a threatening undertone in his voice. My eyes widened.

  “Jared, you don’t understand,” Karen said.

  “What have you done? How could you do this?” he said in a sad, almost desperate voice.

  “I had to do everything within my power to protect you. Everything!” she said. Then her voice turned hard. “It’s my duty, and you know it!” I heard her take a few steps. “I couldn’t take any chances after the plane crash.” Her words were marked by anger and sadness. “You, Jared, are the only one left. You survived that terrible accident because you’re the strongest of them all. Your magic let you walk away unscathed from the fire and the carnage. You are Merlin’s very last descendant.” She raised her voice and spoke full of fervor. “It is you to whom his power has passed. Only you are left, Jared. You are the only one. The only one who bears Merlin’s magic within him. You are the heir of Myrddin Calmburry, the greatest magician to have ever lived.” Karen breathed heavily. “No!” she said resolutely. “I had to have her killed. I just had to do it. To protect Merlin’s magic. His legacy. To protect you, my dear boy.”

  Silence.

  Then, suddenly, something strange happened. A great unwholesome energy spread through the air. I felt the threatening, crackling electricity surrounding me. You could almost touch it. The hair on my arms stood, while white, yellow, and blue sparks flew from the electrical outlets in the hallway. A deep, dark rumbling sounded. A terrible, hateful rumbling generated from Jared’s body.

  “You made Evelyn an orphan and then took her sister from her! Zara was everything to her!”

  What? It took a moment for it to sink in. Then the insight struck me like a blow to the face. I collapsed into myself, sinking to my knees, my right cheek still pressed against the door. I gasped. My parents and Zara had been murdered—by her?

  There was a roaring in my ears. Karen Mayflower had my entire family killed? Breathing became more difficult with each inhalation.

  I heard Karen’s pleading. “Jared, don’t . . .” Her voice trembled. Then I heard hasty steps. “Jared, please understand. I did it all for you!”

  “Don’t you dare involve me in this! Murderer!” he yelled.

  “But Jared, if this girl were gone, you’d have nothing to fear. Morgana cannot find you as long as you’re under the Order’s protection. That girl is your doom. Morgana will find you because your love for the girl will dissolve the link to the Order and with it the protective spell. Then she will kill you.” Her voice broke. “You can only bind yourself to one of the two. The Order or the girl. Morgana has already found her, so it’s only a matter of time before she finds you. We can still protect you.” She took a second to catc
h her breath. “But not much longer. The link between you and the girl will sever the bond. I can feel it. Then we won’t be able to do anything for you. Please understand, Jared. Act before it’s too late, my boy!”

  I heard Jared’s steps and then Karen’s frightened voice. “If you choose her, you’ll die. And the magic will die with you.”

  Again the rumbling. “Should anything happen to Evelyn, the Order will no longer have anything to protect,” Jared said, full of anger.

  “Jared, my boy,” Karen said.

  “No one touches her!”

  “I know you love her, but that’s your curse. Your love for her will cost you your life.”

  That was more than I could bear. My breath was slow and dragging, my lids became heavy, and the noise was unbearably loud. Then it went black around me. I fell. I fell into a deep, black hole and welcomed the darkness with open arms. The only thing I wanted was to give myself to nothing. See nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing. But a slowly rising thought held me from it and kept me conscious.

  I’ve got to get away from here!

  The thought became clearer. Stronger. I could almost grasp the bold letters of that thought before my inner eye.

  I’ve got to get away from here!

  These people murdered my family.

  I’ve got to get away from here!

  From one second to the next, adrenaline raced through me. I could feel my pupils widen and my heart pump hot blood into my arms and legs. My muscles tensed. I leapt to my feet, looked around, and ran.

  I’ve got to get away from here!

  That was all I could think at that moment: the firm resolution to flee and never again return to this horrible place. A few moments later, I’d crossed the large entrance hall, run out underneath the stone archway and past the mighty columns, made it into the open, and left the huge headquarters behind. I ran on. I practically flew over the acres of meadow outside the building, finally reached the edge of the forest, and fought my way in through the thick bushes, whose sharp branches scratched my arms and face. Stumbling, I evaded the mighty tree trunks, often only at the last second. I ran farther and farther and farther. As far as my legs could carry me.