A House for Keeping

by Matteson Wynn

  Sarah looked at me like I was nuts. “Of course he’s not.” She peered at me for a moment before saying, “You should drink some more of that stuff.”

  I slugged back some more of Wil’s concoction. The more I drank, the cooler the charm became, so I must be edging back from the danger zone.

  Sarah crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap. “Finn, I’m here to make you a deal.”

  “And if I say no you’ll what…leave me here to rot?”

  “You haven’t even heard what I have to say, and you’re already saying no.” She shook her head and gave me a look that said she didn’t know if she wanted to throttle me or laugh. “You’re really something.”

  “Uh, thanks?”

  “Look, I’m not an arch-villain. I brought you Wil’s shake as a gesture of good faith, didn’t I?”

  I nodded.

  “You really don’t have any choices when it comes to the house. The bonding will be over soon, and there won’t be anything you can do about it. What you need to decide is what you want to happen next. You can go off to school as planned, if you like. As an added bonus, I’ll even throw in some tuition assistance. You are a Foster, after all, and a former housekeeper candidate, no less. I make sure that we take care of our own.”

  “It’s as easy as that?”

  “Not quite,” said Sarah. “You will, of course, have to submit to a memory wipe. Given your current state, you’ll have to remain here at least a few days before we proceed. We wouldn’t want to cause you any harm.”

  I choked back the “Are you kidding me?” that tried to come flying out of my mouth. Instead I nodded and tried my best to look like I was considering what she said.

  I must’ve still looked pretty doubtful because she said, “Finn, I’m sorry, but you don’t belong here. I don’t care how powerful you are, you weren’t raised in the Foster traditions, and you just aren’t qualified to be a housekeeper. Your path lies elsewhere.”

  “You’re not even giving me a chance to decide if this is something I actually want to do. More than likely, I would’ve turned down the job and gone on my way.”

  Sarah shook her head. “That’s not the kind of chance I’m willing to take, not with our family’s future.” She looked at her watch. “The house should be waking by now, fully recovered after its exertions opening the door with you. In three hours, Meg will have bonded with the house, and you’ll be out of the picture.”

  So there was still time. For what, I wasn’t sure, but I felt a small wave of relief. Although the “you’ll be out of the picture” thing wasn’t sounding too good.

  “If you form an alliance with the water family, won’t that mess up the balance of power? Won’t the rest of your council be mad?”

  “They won’t be in a position to argue when Meg and I have control of the house. Besides, the kind of power I’m offering them, with earth and water working together, any objections will just be for show.”

  “What would you want to do with that kind of power? Why do you need it?”

  Sarah beamed a big, genuine, excited smile at me. “Family first and always, Finn. And I have big plans for us.”

  Frankly, I didn’t want to think about what Gram and Sarah could accomplish together. The whole idea made me shudder.

  Sarah stood, folded her chair, and walked with it to the door. She knocked, there was the sound of clicking locks, and the door swung open partway. Sarah handed the chair through the doorway, but I couldn’t see who was on the other side.

  Sarah paused in the half-open doorway and said, “Get some rest Finn. I’ll be back later when everything is all settled, and we can discuss your next steps.” And then she was gone.

  The door closed, the locks clicked, and I was left alone in my cell.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  I finished off Wil’s miracle-cure slurpee then lay down on the cot. My head was spinning, though this time not from a headache.

  I had so many thoughts jumping around that I didn’t know where to start. I grabbed onto the first thing that popped up: Gram. I shook my head. I didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me before that he might be the one helping Meg open the door. When he was leaving, he’d told Meg he’d be hanging around nearby. He must’ve seen me go walking the next morning and followed me, then taken advantage of the opportunity when I’d accidentally presented him with one by wandering over to a weak spot on the border. He’d seemed familiar at the diner, but I hadn’t put it together. It seemed pretty obvious now.

  So the posse at the diner had been right to be worried. With the Fosters and the water family making an alliance, the rest of the families would be at a severe disadvantage. This was the kind of stuff that led from cold wars to bloody, ongoing feuds. Family feuds were horrifying enough when conventional weapons were involved. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of havoc magical feuding would wreak, not to mention the kinds of innocent casualties that would be involved.

  I stood up and started prowling around. I had to get out of there. I at least needed to warn Zo and the others what Sarah had planned. Ya know, before they mind-wiped me…and didn’t that sound like fun.

  I searched my pockets the best I could with my tied hands and quickly realized that there was no cell phone on me. A scout around the room told me they hadn’t brought along my purse with me, either. No surprise there.

  So I was alone with no tools. The cot was bolted to the floor. Sarah’d taken the chair, so I couldn’t even beat at the door with that.

  I sat down on the cot and tried to think. Out of habit, I reached for my necklace. I had to peel my blood-soaked shirt away from chest to get to it, but the need for comfort outweighed the ick factor. When I pried the necklace free, I realized it was covered in blood.

  Wow, that nose bleed must’ve been truly spectacular. Like Monty Python “just a flesh wound,” blood-spurting spectacular. No wonder Sarah had looked so worried.

  I walked over to the sink and set about cleaning the necklace off. When I opened the pendant up to clean the scissors, I stopped short. Scissors. I was carrying scissors! Duh!

  I flipped the scissors around so they were facing the zip-tie. I frowned. If I held the scissors the usual way, the scissors didn’t reach. They were much too small.

  After some fiddling, I figured it out. I slid the zip-tie as close to my hands as possible. Next, I cupped the scissors sideways between my palms, with one of the finger holes sticking out from my hands and the cutting part of the scissors placed on either side of the zip-tie. Then I used my mouth to open and close the scissors.

  By the time I’d managed to saw through the zip-tie, I’d bruised the hell out of my mouth and somehow managed to bite my tongue. But I was free. Unfortunately, I had lost precious minutes.

  I hurried over to the door to see if I could use the scissors there somehow. A quick survey had my shoulders slumping. There was no lock. My best guess was that there was some kind of electronic lock on the outside. Not that I knew how to pick a lock, but at least I could’ve tried. The hinges were also on the outside of the door, so I couldn’t even try prying at them.

  I banged on the door. “Hey! Anyone there? Hello?”

  Nothing.

  I banged harder and yelled louder. “Hey, let me out! I need to talk to Sarah!”

  I listened but I couldn’t hear a thing from the other side of the door. I didn’t think anyone was out there. And with a sinking feeling, I decided it was likely that no one was coming until after Meg was housekeeper.

  I leaned my forehead against the cold metal of the door and placed both hands flat against the door. The scissors were still clasped in my hand so they rested against the door under my palm.

  “I need to get out of here and get back to the house,” I said.

  I heard a yawn followed by, “I can help you with that.”

  My heart stuttered. I whipped around to face the room behind me. No one was there.

  “Over here,” said the sleepy voice.

  I
turned back to the door. I felt like an idiot, but I said, “Uh door, are you talking to me?”

  I heard laughing. “The door? You think the door is talking?”

  I put my hand on my hip. “If a house can talk to me, why not a door?”

  The laughing tapered off as the voice said, “You have a point.”

  “Look, I don’t have time for games. I’ve got to get out of here. Who are you, where are you, and can you help me or not?”

  All humor was gone when the voice said, “Okay, okay. Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’m here. No, not over there. Here. In your hand. Oh for the love…your other hand, the one with the necklace.”

  I looked at the pendant and jumped a little when I saw that the seed on the front was glowing blue. “Uh, is my pendant talking to me?”

  “Not the pendant, exactly. Well, not the pendant itself at all. I’m sort of…attached. For the sake of brevity, let’s just say the pendant is my current home.”

  “Have you been in there the whole time?”

  “If by the whole time, you mean the entire time I’ve been in your family’s possession, then yes.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

  “I was asleep. Mostly. Look, we can talk about this later. Right now, we’ve got to get you out of here.”

  It said something about the way my weekend had gone that I was totally unfazed by the fact that my pendant was possessed. I just sort of went with it and asked, “Okay. How?”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “Out of here.”

  “I understand that,” the voice said, “but let’s make the best use of our time, shall we? Once you leave, what then? Where do you want to go?”

  I hissed in frustration. “I hadn’t thought about it. Uh…okay. The diner and the doc’s are too public. So is that pub where I first met Lou and Pete. That leaves Zo’s place or the house.” I paused. “I want to go back to the house. I’ll have the most options there. And…well, I need to check on the house. And Fuzzy. I’m worried about them.”

  “Where in the house do you want to go?”

  I thought about it for a moment. “My room. No one should be in there, except maybe Fuzzy. Oh jeez, poor Fuzzy. I hope he’s not freaking out.”

  The tone of the voice changed to a brisk, commanding tone. “Walk over to the cell door. Take the pendant off the chain.”

  I did as instructed and put the chain in my pocket.

  The voice instructed, “Hold the blades of the scissors in your—you’re left handed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Of course you are. Why make anything easy,” it muttered. “Hold the scissors in your left hand. Slide the cover with the seed on it so that it covers the left-side finger hole in the scissors. You should have the cover on the left, the other empty finger hole on the right, and the closed blades facing down.”

  “Like this?”

  “Good, now place the pendant against the door. Flat against the door, with the blades of the scissors pointing down. Not like that. Flip it over, so that the seed side is up. Mm, more to the left, so it’s left of center. Good. Now concentrate. Tell it where you want to go.”

  Feeling foolish, I said, “Could you pl—”

  “Don’t ask! Tell.”

  “Uh, hi, er, take me to my room. In the house. Please.”

  “Let’s try that once more, like you have a spine.”

  I closed my eyes. I could feel the seed pressing into my palm, and it calmed me. I took a slow, deep breath and said, “Take me to my room in the house. Please.”

  “Open your eyes.”

  A pale blue light was pouring out from under my fingers.

  “You can let go.”

  Slowly, I took my hand away, expecting the pendant to fall to the floor. But it stayed where it was, suspended against the door. Instead of softly glowing, the seed was now pouring blue light around the pendant.

  I gasped and took an involuntary step back.

  The seed sprouted a blue tendril that grew sideways until it passed through the finger hole on the right side of the scissors and disappeared into the door.

  From the middle of that vine, another tendril sprouted and shot vertically down the scissors, until it implanted itself into the door right below where the scissor blades ended.

  It looked like a glowing, blue capital T.

  At the bottom of the T, two more tendrils sprouted, one going left and one going right, each disappearing into the door. Now it looked like a blue, glowing capital I.

  The vertical part of the “I” grew outward some more, forming an arch that was big enough for me to fit my hand around.

  The whole thing took less than a minute.

  I gaped at it. “That looks like a—” I said.

  “Door handle? That’s because it is. Now pull.”

  I tentatively slipped my hand around the handle. It felt warm, and it pulsed softly. It wasn’t icky, just odd.

  I hesitated. The last time I’d tried to open a door, it hadn’t gone so well.

  “Oh, will you stop waffling. This isn’t your magic you’re using, so stop worrying and give it a decent pull.”

  I took a firmer grasp and tugged.

  There was a pause, then the edges of the door turned bright blue.

  The door began opening—from the hinge side.

  I blinked at it, then looked at the right side of the door. Somehow, the door had become, well, bendy.

  I shifted my gaze to see what was on the other side of the door.

  My gaze caught on my suitcase.

  I was staring through the door into my room in the house.

  Fuzzy was standing on the bed, staring back at me.

  With a “MEOW!” he launched himself off the bed and scampered through the door and into the cell with me, where he began clawing his way up my legs.

  “Ow! Crap, ow!” I pried him off my pant leg and held him close. He was purring so hard his whole body was shaking. “Hey buddy. I missed you, too.”

  Well, Fuzzy had come through with no problem. I held onto him and stepped through the door into the house. I had a brief moment of vertigo and then I was through.

  The floor under me let out series of squeals and I heard Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding chime from my bathroom.

  I was startled by the flood of relief that poured through me. “Hi house! Oh I’m so glad to see you. Are you okay?”

  Ding!

  “Oh thank the house gods. I was worried opening that door might’ve wiped you out as badly as it did me.”

  Ding. Then a pause. Then, ding ding.

  Yes and no. Huh. Well it seemed all right now, so I clung onto that. “Phew. Glad you’re okay. Uh, hey, you might want to keep it down, so they don’t realize I’m here and come drag me away again.”

  A quieter ding came from the bathroom.

  “Thanks.”

  I turned to face the door and nearly dropped Fuzzy as I watched my pendant-turned-magic-door-handle pop out of my side of the door.

  The voice said, “You’re not done yet. Close the door.”

  I put Fuzzy down on the bed and then walked back to the door. With a last shuddering glance at the dark cell, I pulled on the handle. The door closed.

  But where the door to my room in the house should have been, the door to the cell remained. And my pendant was still stuck there playing door handle.

  “Now what?” I asked. “How do I, uh, turn it off?”

  “Use your words.”

  I rested the flat of my palm lightly on top of the door handle and said, “Thank you for your help. Please close the door all the way now and go back to being my necklace,” and imagined the pendant the way it was when we started.

  I yanked my hand away as I felt the handle start to sink.

  As the arch in the handle sank back into a straight, flat tendril, the cell door began to disappear. It was like the current door was overwriting it from the edges inward, the wooden boards growing over the metal surface of the cell door,
moving inward toward the pendant.

  It took only a few moments until the door to my room looked as it always had, except that stuck to the door was my pendant, its glowing, blue tendrils forming the shape of a capital I again.

  But then as I watched, the tendrils unsprouted from the door in the reverse order that they had appeared. Within a few seconds, all that remained was the original pendant, scissors pointed down, pendant cover on the left, with only the seed softly glowing blue.

  I reached out and pulled at the pendant. The light in the seed went out, and the pendant came away from the door easily.

  I looked at the scissors in my hand. I’d been wearing this pendant for years, and I’d had no idea what it could do.

  “I need a nap,” said the voice.

  And I’d had no idea what was in the pendant, either. Not that I really knew now.

  I glared at the pendant. “What do you mean you need a nap? You just woke up! And I have questions for you. Lots of questions.”

  The voice sounded sleepy. “We can talk later.”

  “Not later, now.”

  It sounded half asleep already when it said, “You get one. And ask it fast.”

  “I don’t know where to start. Hell, I don’t even know what to call you. Do you even have a name?”

  “Yes.”

  “Great. What is it? And what are you? Why are you living in the pendant? And why did you wake up now? Hello? Oh for Pete’s sake.”

  Apparently it had gone to sleep because it wasn’t answering.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the pendant.

  Fuzzy meowed his way across the bed, climbing into my lap when he reached me and giving me a head-butt.

  “Oh Fuzzy. What a mess,” I said and petted him with one hand.

  I stared at the necklace. Some part of my brain knew I should be fascinated by what had just happened. But I wasn’t feeling curious or excited at all.

  Instead, I found myself fighting back tears. My heart ached at the thought that one of the only things that I had left in my life that made me feel safe had now become…well, this. Whatever this was.