Treasurekeeper

by Ripley Harper

  “Yes. I realize that. But at the time you were also trapped and desperate, with nowhere to go and afraid of the White Lady’s revenge. Here, you’re among friends.”

  The look on his face might have been amusing at another time, in another place.

  “Look,” I concede, “I know the Pendragons have their flaws, but they can protect you much better than I can. And the White Lady has a lot of other problems to deal with right now. It’s time you live your lives without—”

  “No. Don’t do this. Please, Jess.”

  I’m so surprised to hear Dasha say my name that my words dry up instantly. There was a time—before I realized what she meant when she called me a “Queen”—when I kept asking her to use my name, but this is the first time she’s ever actually done it.

  “I know it must have been greatly shocking,” she says gently, her Eastern European accent stronger than usual, “to find out what you are so late in your life. But you cannot send us away from you. I understand you think it is best because of how you see yourself now, at this moment in time. But do you not realize how much stronger you are? In the beginning, you could not even find a shred of yourself when your dragonshine came upon you, but now you are still Jess no matter how brightly you shine.”

  I shudder at the word, that horrible word, spoken so casually.

  “How can you say that?” I ask. “A few minutes ago, there was nothing left of me. It was as if some psychopath had grabbed the wheel of my mind to go joyriding with my body. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

  “Maybe yes. Because of my bond with you, I do have some idea.” She grips my hand tighter. “And I know that I, myself, could never have let such great power go. Nobody could! And yet you did it. You returned to yourself within minutes. This is control like nobody has seen before.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I do understand! You think you have no control, but you are standing here now, still in full shine, and you are Jess. Don’t you see? You only need a little more time, and then you will realize that you are not monster like you think you are.”

  “Not a monster?” I lift my chin, daring her to tell the truth. “So tell me. Right now, what do you see when you look at me?”

  “I see young woman with the shine on her.” When I give her a look, she raises her shoulders helplessly. “Yes, it is true, after my pledge to you I have enough power to see faint gleaming of your spiritform as well as your human body.”

  “And what exactly does that spiritform look like?” I challenge her to say it out loud.

  “Oh, Jess. You are beautiful girl and you are beautiful dragon both. None are monster.”

  I hear myself sobbing, a raw, broken sound.

  “Dragons can’t cry,” Michael says quietly. “Did you know that? Never in the entire history of the Order of Keepers has anyone ever seen a dragon cry. Also, they hate to be touched,” he looks down at our hands, still clasped together. “And you called us by our names, and you worried about your friend, and you tried to protect the people who may be hurt by you even while you were blazing with a shine brighter than anyone has ever seen. This is not something dragons do, okay? Do you hear what I’m saying? Are you listening to me?”

  But I’m not really listening, no, because I’m too fascinated by the way their spiritfires flicker so beautifully: emerald green sparking against flashes of pure white. There is not a glimmer of selfishness here—no trace, even, of self-preservation. They are completely focused on my wellbeing, to the point where they’re not considering their own interests at all anymore.

  This is not right. I don’t deserve such a sacrifice, even if it is freely made.

  And so I draw my power to me, consciously this time, and I break the bond between us forever.

  It hurts, because I’ve learned to love these three young Skykeepers, but I do it because I must. I do it for them. So that they can have a future.

  I am sinking into an endless nothing, and I will not drag them down with me.

  Chapter 2

  The power of Blood belongs to the Red Clan.

  It’s the power of Passion, and it gives the Bloodkeepers

  the shallow skills of Physicality,

  and the deep skills of Seduction and Enthrallment.

  The power of the Sky belongs to the White Clan.

  It’s the power of Mind, and it gives the Skykeepers

  the shallow skills of Control over the Air,

  and the deep skills of Clear Sight and Truth.

  The power of Water belongs to the Blue Clan.

  It’s the power of Intuition, and it gives the Seakeepers

  the shallow skills of Control over Water,

  and the deep skills of Prophesy and Foresight.

  The power of Earth belongs to the Green Clan.

  It’s the power of Memory, and it gives the Earthkeepers

  the shallow skills of Growth,

  and the deep skills of Healing and Remembering.

  From An Everyday Translation of the Codex (1999), by Lady Sarah Shawcross, Countess of Northwickam

  I find Sophia, Ingrid, and Gunn in the formal dining room downstairs. They’re sitting in a tense silence at one end of the table: a monstrous black mahogany thing that can easily seat fifty people. From the look on their faces, it’s clear to me that they’ve just had an argument.

  “Little one,” Ingrid says. “Come and sit down please.”

  Once she gets that determined look on her face there’s no point arguing, so I force myself to walk closer. “Actually, I wanted to speak to Sofia.”

  “Go ahead. She’s right here.”

  “In private, I mean.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Ingrid is in her seventies and the kind of woman that people around here describe as “a real kick”. She wears tons of make-up, drinks like a fish, doesn’t suffer fools, and dresses like an eighties soap star, all of which creates the impression that she’s nothing but a grouchy, glamorous, funny old eccentric.

  Impressions can be misleading though.

  I take the seat furthest away from her. “Is Daniel okay?” I ask Sofia.

  “Not really,” she says. “His mind is close to snapping.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry is not enough. Until you have your power under control, you cannot see him again.”

  “That is not for you to decide,” Ingrid says.

  “For God’s sake, Ingrid, he’s my son.”

  Sofia, a pretty woman with bright blue eyes and dark brown hair, is about half Ingrid’s age and not nearly as tall or as fierce or as scary. But there’s no denying the force of her personality, especially when it comes to protecting her family.

  “I know I can’t see him anymore,” I tell Sofia. “That’s what I came to tell you. It’s too dangerous; you need to leave. Get away from me while you still can.”

  “This is not the time to be sending away your friends,” Ingrid says curtly. “You need Daniel’s presence to control the darker aspects of your power.”

  “You don’t understand.” I rub my eyes, trying to get rid of the headache that always follows my magic. “If I destroy Daniel by accident… It won’t be good. You talk about the darker aspects of my power, but none of us really knows what I’m capable of. And my magic is growing stronger and more uncontrollable by the day. By the hour. He needs to leave immediately, for both our sakes.”

  “There’s a tried and tested way to control your power,” Ingrid says. “If we start the drills—”

  “No!” Gunn slams his open palm on the table. “Over my dead body.”

  “It’s for her own good.”

  “Ingrid, I swear, if you ever lay as much as a finger on her again, I will kill you.”

  I glance at Gunn quickly, just long enough to see that he’s livid with anger. Which I still find kind of weird, because Gunn never used to get angry. He might look like a Viking warrior with his massive body and his slightly too-long blond hair, b
ut at heart he’s a science nerd with such a calm, rational personality that nothing ever fazes him. Except maybe Jonathan Pendragon. And the lords and ladies of the Order of Keepers. And any mention of the drills Ingrid put me through.

  “There’s no need to be so dramatic, Gunnar.”

  “Don’t test me on this. I warn you.”

  While they glare at each other, I sink deeper into in my chair, consciously fighting the sense that I’m dissolving into thin air. This always happens when I think about the drills; I begin to feel as if I’m not really me anymore, and that what happened to me then is still happening, somewhere, to the real self I left behind.

  “I’m not doing the drills, Ingrid.” I only interrupt their argument when I’m sure my voice will sound steady. “I’ve told you that before. Daniel has to go. There’s no other way.”

  She clicks her tongue, irritated. “The White Lady wants him dead and she has spies everywhere. He’s safer here than anyplace else on earth.”

  Sofia shakes her head slowly but she doesn’t argue, probably because Ingrid has a point. The Pendragons have been at war with the Order of Keepers for centuries, and the Pendragon compound has better security than many prisons. Not only is the entire property surrounded by twelve-foot-high electric fences and patrolled by a permanent security force of over thirty people, it’s also protected by the Enthrallment spells of the half-dragons—a magic so powerful that no keeper has ever managed to put a foot inside the compound without an invitation.

  I look at Sofia. “If you really can’t leave, you’ll have to keep him away from me.”

  “No,” Ingrid says. “It’s not good for you to spend so much time alone.”

  “My son isn’t a tool to use to keep your ward from going off the rails, Ingrid.”

  “We all have our roles to play, and your son is no exception.”

  “Okay, that’s enough. We’re all on the same side here.” Gunn looks at Sofia. “Of course Ingrid isn’t seriously suggesting that we endanger Daniel’s mental health in any way.” He stares Ingrid down until she nods reluctantly. “So what we need to figure out is how to handle this situation in a way that will be good for both Jess and Daniel.” When it’s my turn to feel the force of that midnight blue gaze, I look down at my hands immediately.

  Gunn is very protective of me. He’s always given me all the support and affection I needed, fulfilling some weird role somewhere between teacher, older brother, and desperate crush, and for years I never questioned our relationship because I simply needed him too much. I was heartbroken and alone and miserable after my mother’s death, and he was always just there: shining and handsome and caring and perfect.

  My own Prince Charming.

  I almost shudder with shame every time I think of all those years of hopeless longing. How sad it seems now. How absolutely pathetic.

  “That’s very diplomatic of you, Gunnar,” Ingrid says icily. “But what exactly are you proposing?”

  He inhales sharply before he speaks, as if bracing himself. “Once Daniel’s magic is sparked, he will be able to fully protect himself against the shine. But we all know the White Lady will never accept his pledge in a million years. So I was thinking…”

  “Yes?”

  “Maybe Jess could do it.”

  I clench my hands even tighter, watch my knuckles whiten.

  “If he pledges himself to her—”

  “She’s not a clan leader, Gunnar.”

  “It worked with the Skykeepers.”

  “No,” I say, my voice flat. “It didn’t.”

  “Look, Jess,” Gunn begins in that patient teacher’s voice of his. “I know you’re uncomfortable with certain aspects of the bond that was created between you and the Skykeepers, but you can’t deny the fact that their magic became a lot more powerful after that pledge. Why wouldn’t it work for Daniel too?”

  “Don’t you understand?” I look up, frustrated. “It was supposed to be a formality. Everyone said all those words about ‘pledging their lives’ and their ‘magic’ to my ‘service’ was just some old tradition. That it didn’t mean anything.”

  “Nobody tried to mislead you, Jess.”

  His gaze is too intense; I can’t stand it. I look down at my hands again.

  “I know nobody tried to trick me but look what happened. They would do anything for me. Alania even died.”

  “It’s a way to keep him safe, Jess.”

  “No.” I would never put Daniel in such a position. “There must be another way.”

  “Like what? We’ve been through this. He can’t leave; the White Lady has put a price on his head. There’s nowhere safe for him to go.”

  “Then maybe I should go.”

  There’s a short pause, and then everybody starts speaking at once, their voices passionate and angry and so loud that I close my eyes and just let the noise wash over me. Words and words and words.

  “… this place is poison! Can’t you see what it’s doing to her? We need to…”

  “... Pendragon compound is by far the safest place for her to learn how to control…”

  “… God help me, if you mention the drills again…”

  “… Green and Blue have both offered sanctuary. And the Red Lady has invited…”

  “… don’t you understand how much they fear her? And hate is but a hair’s breadth...”

  “… can't seriously believe that Deron would ever harm…”

  While they argue about which of the clans they can trust to stick to ancient agreements made by people long dead, I sit in silence, remembering a time when this world of magical lords and ladies with their secret castles and private islands seemed glamorous and exciting.

  “Jess,” Gunn says. “Are you listening to me?”

  I blink once. “Yes.” Under my hands, the table is smooth and black and polished.

  “I know this is a difficult time for you, but you need to focus. It is your life we’re talking about.”

  I rub my eyes; the headache is definitely getting worse. “I know what’s going on, okay?” I say tiredly. “You want us to leave this place because you hate Jonathan Pendragon. Sofia wants us to leave because she wants to protect Daniel. Ingrid wants us to stay because she can’t wait to drill me again. The rest is just words.”

  There’s a short, shocked silence.

  “Well, now look who’s being dramatic,” Ingrid says drily. “But you might have a point in so far as this discussion is clearly pointless. There is simply nowhere safe for us to go.”

  “How can you say that?” Gunn’s voice is tight with frustration. “I can understand why you don’t trust the Red Lady, but how is this place any safer than the Blue Lord’s island or the Green Lord’s estate? You’re being completely unreasonable.”

  “And you’re being stubborn and obtuse.” Ingrid’s irritation with her great-nephew is almost palpable. “The leaders of the Order are proud and egotistical and absolutely paranoid about losing power. When Jess made the lot of them so shine-sick at the trial, she not only humiliated them—she also made them fear her. And if our history has taught us one thing, it’s that the powerful destroy what they fear. Ruthlessly and efficiently and every goddamn time.”

  “The Green Lady wasn’t at the trial,” Sofia says.

  “Oh please.” Ingrid sniffs. “Do you really expect Jess to go and stay in the jungle with Clara?”

  “It’s a real option,” Sofia says. “I can’t think of a safer place for her than the depths of the Amazon rainforest, hidden away in the Green Lady’s secret village.”

  “I don’t trust that woman. Never have, never will.”

  “She’s proven her loyalty to Black, Ingrid,” Gunn says. “You can’t deny it.”

  “Why? Because she kept Bella from the Order’s control, allowing her more and more rope until she could hang herself?” Ingrid’s voice breaks a little on the last word, a harsh and painful sound, like ice cracking.

  I flinch at the mention of my mother’s name. “Should I know wha
t you’re talking about?” I ask warily.

  The silence stretches out so long that I’m forced to look up. Ingrid is staring straight ahead, lips thinned into a painfully tight line. Sofia is massaging her temples. Gunn looks deeply concerned.

  “The trial you attended last year wasn’t the first time the Order tried to dissolve the Black clan,” he says. “They’ve been trying to take control of your bloodline for decades. The last time they got really close was about twenty years ago. It was after word got out that your mother had become a seamaster and, well, people panicked. The Seakeepers stood with us, of course, but Red sided with White for the first time since the Truce. Still, they couldn’t do anything without the Earthkeepers’ support, and unfortunately the Green Lady at the time, the Countess of Northwickham, the current Green Lord’s mother…”

  I have no choice but to look at Gunn while he drones on, clearly comfortable in his old role as my teacher, so I put on my serious face and I nod a lot. But I don’t really see him. His perfect, heartbreakingly handsome looks, which I always used to enjoy so much, have now become almost physically painful for me to look at—a reminder of how stupid I’ve been, and a symbol of everything I’ve lost.

  When his story becomes longer and longer, I blur my eyes slightly, just to take the worst edge off his beauty.

  That terrible beauty. Like a prince in a fairy tale.

  “…when out of the blue a young woman showed up: an Earthkeeper more powerful than anyone has seen in centuries. Clara was just a girl at the time, probably no older than twenty, but she caused an absolute sensation, coming as she did from a mythical village in the depths of the Amazon rainforest and practicing a dazzling kind of earthmagic we’ve almost stopped believing in. She became the Green Lady immediately—there was simply nothing anyone could do to stop her—and when she began campaigning for your mother’s freedom…”

  In the stories the handsome young prince kills the dragon, saves the maiden and claims the treasure. Everybody knows that. Look a bit deeper, and you realize it’s the treasure he wants, more than the maiden. Look deeper still and you realize it’s the adventure he wants, more than the treasure. Deeper still and it’s the glory he wants, more than the adventure.