The Secret of the Keepers

by Elizabeth Isaacs

  “I vow to you I will honor you and all that you lived for,” I whispered in the ancient language. I caressed his wrinkled cheek one last time before pulling Edna’s quilt over his face.

  Rena’s pack lay on the other side of the cavern, and I strapped it to my back and stumbled past back through the mountain.

  I now had no way out, and the only other entrance I knew of was several hundred feet up and miles away. Energy drained from my body, my muscles screamed with fatigue.

  Every sweet memory of my brief life here filled my mind, and I took a moment to focus. Turning to the right of the alcove, my heart yearned for a way to exit the mountain undetected while staying close to the fissure. A stream of sky blue blazed down a darkened path, and I followed the energy until my legs begged for mercy. By the time I found a small clearing, my teeth chattered from the damp cold. Exhausted, I sat and opened Rena’s pack.

  The top compartment held a few essentials, food, an extra water container, and some clothing. I put on the two shirts and extra socks and dug to the bottom. The feel of slippery fabric ran across my palm, and I dumped the rest of the contents on the ground. The Queen’s robe was neatly folded at the bottom. I ran my hand across the hood; it warmed under my touch.

  ... Thank the wild child for the compliment ... Gavin’s voice, steeped in humor, echoed in my mind, and I smiled through tears, watching the golden material flicker with silver strands. Wrapping the robe around my body, I pulled the hood over my head. The material draped past my forehead, piling around my neck. Images of Queen Lera laughing at something Rena said played through and the cloak warmed, easing the tensed muscles around my shoulders. The first stream of thought stayed focused on our purpose. The middle streams replayed our time here as a clan. The cape flickered, and I lay down, relaxing under the heat. Tucking my knees into my chest, as the cloak enveloped me. Exhausted, I fell into a mindless sleep.

  ICE SETTLED IN MY CHEST while sweat dripped off my forehead. My amulet was uncomfortably hot. My mind must have funneled energy through the night. The amulet once again was full. The secret stone next to my heart still held the power of the mountain. The tunnel blazed blue, and I stuffed the pack with the extra clothes and headed down the corridor.

  It was mid-morning before I spotted streaks of yellow light angling through the rock wall. The tunnel ended in a small ravine. The abyss lay below, just right of the tree line. The Dokkalfar, still focused on chipping away at the mountain, were leveling the trees around the opening, trying to dig their way in.

  I was several miles away. I had no idea where the warriors were or if Ester had been found, and I refused to think about the real possibility that the keepers might be harmed or dead. Shivering, I looked over the land. Judging by the lack of shadows, it must be midday. If I left now, I could make it before nightfall. Rummaging in the bag, I took the last of the bread and the small water container and shoved them into the deep pockets of the cloak. I dropped the pack near the entrance and, taking a deep breath, I stepped outside.

  The sweet smell of pine, slightly blemished by the stench below, perfumed the air. Wrapping the cape around me, I wove through the dense underbrush. Rancid dirt smothered the evergreen scent, and I froze next to a large spruce tree. Shadows reached for the mountain, and I realized I’d misjudged the time—it was later than I thought. Leaves stirred to my right as the world turned to shades of gray. Dokkalfar were near. If I didn’t do something quick, they’d walk right into me. Panicked, I started to run, but a branch lashed around me, pulling me in, and I held my breath, trying not to scream. The lowest boughs of the spruce tree shot to the ground. Their branches shook, dropping their needles, and they quickly wove together and then whipped around the tree, trapping me in a protective cocoon. I struggled until the air became heavy with the stench of the Dokkalfar.

  “Her scent was just here.”

  “Alert the King, she’s out of the mountain.”

  “No, you fool. He’ll burn us alive if we’re wrong.”

  “I think we should sound the alarm. If she makes it to the portal she could—” A loud smack, then something hit the tree. The branches tightened, and I held my breath.

  “Silence! We are not to speak of it.”

  The other one stumbled, leaning just a few inches from me.

  “The wind no longer screams her scent. We’ll head further north. Maybe she’s running back to the castle.”

  “She’ll have a shock waiting, won’t she?” The two laughed as the sounds of footsteps trailed away.

  My heart plummeted.

  Visions of the castle under siege took hold of my heart, and my blood became light and hot, frantically pumping through my veins. The branches eased around me but did not let go until only the scent of pine kissed the air. I stayed under the tree, trying to figure this out.

  I knew the warriors were close by, but I couldn’t call out to them. The Dokkalfar could smell my scent, but somehow the trees seemed to mask it. If only I could find a way to get to the abyss without being in the open.

  The creaking of a lowering bough disturbed the silence. The smallest branches enfolded me in a gentle embrace, and the limbs lifted me slowly, pulling me as close to the trunk as possible. A higher branch latched on as the lower ones released, lifting me to the next branch, and then the next until the tender new growth at the top swayed with my weight. Looking down, my stomach flipped. Trees covered most of the view, but to the left, a clump of thinning branches allowed a patch of the forest floor to be seen.

  The Dokkalfar looked like ants from here. The air was crisp, clean, and I took a deep breath in appreciation. The tree began to sway—but there was no breeze. The spruce to the left reached toward me. As soon as the tops touched, I grabbed on to the second tree. The first spruce stilled as the one to my left started to sway. And so it went until I found myself on the top of the last tree closest to the petrified cedars. I smiled as the afternoon settled into dusk. I wasn’t sure what my next move would be, but at least I made it to the badlands without being detected.

  I climbed down a few boughs, reaching the inner sanctum of the pine. Large limbs, tamped down with dirt and mud, wove together to create a massive abandoned nest. I slipped off the branch above, landing easily in its center. White down feathers as large as my arm lay around the edge, and I’d bet that this once was the home of a Kestrel. I settled the cloak around me, not giving in to sleep. Fires burned below me, shrieks of fear and desperation rent the air. I pulled the cloak tighter, refusing to look at anything by the stars above. Minutes turned into hours. Streaks of yellow and orange warmed the pre-dawn sky, and I sat up, trying to see past the tears.

  This would be the last time I would watch the sun rise over Kailmeyra.

  Radiant beams of warmth hit the nest off and on throughout the day, and it was in those times I allowed myself to sleep. Every now and then flashes of silver slipped in and out of view, and I knew Rena and Tark were almost in position.

  Looking down, I was glad to see there were only a few hundred yards to the abyss. A good number of Dokkalfar were on the other side, still trying to get into the mountain. The afternoon cooled as long shadows reached across the abyss. Trying not to make a sound, I slipped from the nest to the bough below. The tree tipped its evergreen leaves, their spikes creating a natural camouflage. The change was subtle, but still, I couldn’t help but marvel that no Dokkalfar noticed. Hundreds of them stood just yards away, and no one noticed my scent.

  Earsplitting sounds of shattering wood exploded in the distance. Several Dokkalfar stood yoked with a long branch and two stone buckets, one on each end. As they scooped the tar from the abyss, into one bucket, the stone glowed red. They turned and filled the other before making their way back through the crowd. The Dokkalfar scuttled through the shadows, avoiding the light.

  I craned to see where they were going. A large pile of tree trunks had been stacked vertically. The structure reached several stories high and was conical in shape.

  I shivered at the
thought of what they could burn with that much wood.

  A faint cry of an elderly woman echoed. The hair stood on the nape of my neck as four Dokkalfar pull something from the ground. Long hair matted in mud trailed down her back, dirt, and grime covering her entire body.

  “You must believe me, he is dead ... I have seen it.” Her raspy voice became desperate. They threw her on the ground, and I finally saw her face.

  Skin stretched over empty sockets where Ester’s eyes used to be, and I trembled at the thought of them healing her just enough to keep her alive.

  “Everything I’ve told you has come to pass, has it not?” She felt the ground, stumbling to her feet, trying to discern where she was. A small group gathered around her, mocking her.

  “We should burn her where she stands,” one of the Dokkalfar suggested, the others chanted in agreement, excited at the possibility of watching her suffer. The one with the sword stood next to her.

  “No. We wait for orders. Although it appears she has outlived her usefulness.”

  Ester’s face turned up as if she could see me. I backed against the bark of the tree, becoming paranoid.

  “Where is the Light?” The leader growled, and I startled.

  “She grows weak in the heart of the mountain,” her muffled voice barely made it through the trees. He pushed her down, kicking her, rolling her toward the abyss. Ester moaned in pain, and I held my breath as the cloak warmed.

  “Her scent was discovered just north of here.” He growled.

  “If she is outside, why do you not track her scent? How do you know the Alfar have not placed her possessions around the mountain as a ruse?” She tilted her head in his direction. “The Elite Guard surrounds these woods, even as we speak.” The Dokkalfar considered her words.

  “We will take care of them tonight, and then we’ll take care of you.” The others cheered, and he held his hand up, quieting the crowd. “Get back to work. If the stacks aren’t ready by sundown, there’ll be hell to pay.” The others hastened away, and the sounds of trees being ripped by their roots once again pierced the air. Soon, only two Dokkalfar remained.

  “Should we bind her?” one asked. The other shook his head.

  “Why? Where is she to go?”

  They laughed maliciously and headed over with the others to start stacking trunks several hundred feet away. Ester rolled with her back to the abyss, facing the forest.

  “Princess ...” she said in the ancient language, “we are running out of time. Hear me. All is not lost.”

  The Dokkalfar froze, their ears perked up, and Ester started singing an Alfar melody.

  “Who are you talking to?” he shouted, searching the woods. She kept singing, rocking her body back and forth.

  “She sings those wretched songs all day.”

  “I’ll shut her up.” The other one growled, but he stopped as the one with the sword scowled and took a step toward them. After a moment, they walked back to the others.

  She turned her disfigured face to me and her brows furrowed in thought. I knew I couldn’t leave Ester there on the ground, just waiting to die. But how was I going to get her out of harm’s way? How to rescue her without being discovered?

  The tree shifted, ever so slightly, and my heart warmed. Why couldn’t the tree reach out to her? My desire to protect Ester played out on all six streams of thought, and the bottom two boughs lowered.

  The land rumbled next to the makeshift bonfire. The pines closest to the conical structure thrashed and swayed, whipping back and forth. The Dokkalfar scrambled, ripping at their trunks, but the trees became more agitated reaching toward the pile of wood. Two of the pines managed to strike their mark, and a thunderous boom echoed through the forest as the unlit bonfire collapsed into a hodge-podge pile of timber. The tall logs rolled, crushing anything that stood in their way. All eyes focused north, the demons closest to us ran to help.

  Ester crawled away. The tree beneath me lunged, and I grabbed the nearest branch. Its lowest bough whipped toward the ground, the end curling around Ester’s waist, tossing her through the tree and dropping her to the nest above. I climbed back up, jumping in with her, turning my back on the horrific scene to the north as the trees causing the diversion perished. Shrieks of roots being rent from the ground rung through the air, as did the voices of enraged demons surrounding them.

  “Did you unlock the box?” She asked in the ancient language, reaching for my face.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. And the amulet. It is full?

  “Yes.”

  Ester smiled. “All is not lost then. Have you seen the others?”

  “Only the Queen, Rena, and Tark.” My voice grew thick. “What about you? Have you ...” My voice trailed away. Ester patted my hand.

  “I’m sorry, dear. I’ve been in darkness. No one has been able to get to me since I was taken.”

  “But we heard you call out ...”

  “Believe nothing of what you hear or see. Deceit is their greatest weapon.” The noise to the north died down. Ester’s voice became intense. “What were Malachi’s last words to you?” she whispered.

  I held my breath. “He reminded me that we are never truly alone.”

  Ester shook her head, defeated. “Even in death, he holds to his conviction.” She struggled with a decision. “How did he expect you to know without telling? ... Unless ...” her voice dwindled away. “I will honor that. Look to your heart to find what you seek.”

  “Ester, please—” I froze, realizing the forest was silent.

  “Go!” She hissed, pushing me toward the edge of the nest. I jumped to the bough below, my heart focused on her safety. The branches overhead gracefully descended, weaving their limbs over the nest, creating a cocoon. The Dokkalfar scrambled, clamoring over the pile of wood, their leader charging back toward us.

  “Where is she?” he bellowed. The two that once stood guard looked around.

  “She couldn’t have gone far. She has no eyes.” The first guard smirked.

  “Yes,” the leader took his sword from its sheath and beheaded the two with one fell swoop. Their heads rolled toward the black lake as their bodies crumbled to the ground. “But that doesn’t mean she cannot see, you fools.”

  “Search the woods, she cannot be far!” he yelled. Hundreds of Dokkalfar scurried, skittering in the shadows, avoiding the light. My heart sped. They were heading in the direction of the guard. What if Tark and Rena weren’t ready? The cloak became uncomfortably warm.

  I waited until the last of the demons disappeared into the woods before jumping from the tree. I bolted for the abyss, knowing they now could smell my scent. In the distance, a familiar roar, terrifying yet welcoming, trumpeted through the air. My feet stumbled over the last of the underbrush, praying I could reach the abyss before they returned.

  As soon as my feet hit black sand, white noise screams of fury and disbelief shrieked. The ground rumbled as thousands of Dokkalfar retreated to the badlands.

  I’d been discovered.

  Chapter 27

  The Lake of Fire

  FLASHES OF SILVER DARTED from all directions, followed by a sea of black.

  Dokkalfar shrieks pierced the air as the upper guard charged, killing anything in sight. A small group of warriors managed to surround me before the Dokkalfar. Black blood sprayed and splattered from the melee, hissing and sizzling as it hit the cloak. The sounds of battle crescendoed around us.

  “Princess!” Weylin’s deep voice carried through the carnage. Overwhelmed, I ran toward him.

  “I need your help,” I shouted, forgetting to speak in the ancient language, “I must get closer to the fissure.”

  Weylin looked thunderstruck. “Absolutely not. I have orders to get you out of here.”

  He reached for me, but I put up my barrier, stopping his hands just inches from my shoulders.

  “Listen! I have a plan. We may be able to end this today, but I have to get to the fissure!”

  His eyes angrily flared.
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  I pointed past his shoulder. “Look at them Weylin, see how they protect?”

  He turned, watching the Dokkalfar split into two groups. One charged in our direction, but the majority retreated to the fissure’s edge.

  “They know ... they’ve been ordered to not let me through!”

  As soon as I spoke, the fighting stopped. A ripple of awareness ran through the field. The Dokkalfar snarled as they gathered around the edge of the abyss. Silver uniforms ran in droves toward the cedar trees. From the look of it, Micah must have ordered the remaining Alfar to regroup.

  I leaned toward Weylin, whispering in the ancient language. “You’ve got to kill the ones with the swords. They have the power to call creatures from the darkness.”

  Stunned, Weylin nodded. “I’ll alert the others.” His eyes blanked as he turned away. The sun angled westward.

  An eerie silence shrouded the scene before me, and my heart dropped. We were at a disadvantage everywhere I turned. The Dokkalfar stood at least ten deep around the fissure, and we must’ve been outnumbered twenty to one. To the west, tall branches of the evergreens smothered the sun, leaving the abyss shaded. Barren boughs of dead cedars held archers at the ready, and I knew once the battle resumed they would be easy targets. The Alfar stood in two rows. Warriors with long whips guarded the front, the rest crouched, ready to fall in behind.

  Where are Rena and Tark? Did Elias and Elaine even know we were here? My throat tightened as I tried not to think of them or their mission.

  Micah stepped in front of the line, Ruth forever by his side. His chiseled eyes found mine, and he dipped his head in a small bow indicating they were ready.

  I opened my mind pouring out my need to defend, my heart calling for the only Urisk in the land.