The Spirit Keeper

by Luznicky Garrett, Melissa

  “What’s wrong,” Meg said, a sudden look of panic on her face. She snatched the garbage can and held it out to me. “Are you going to throw up?”

  I swallowed hard and covered my face with my hands. I kept thinking I should tell Meg what happened, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit out loud that I had really messed up this time.

  “I’m just really tired,” I said instead. “I’ll feel better after I’ve had a nap.”

  Meg didn’t look at all convinced, but she nodded anyway. “Turn over. I’ll massage your shoulders.”

  I turned on my side to face the wall so that Meg could massage my shoulders, but more so I wouldn’t have to look her in the face. Thinking how I had betrayed her trust made my heart clench in my chest until I was sure it would stop beating altogether.

  I’d lied to Meg and David, the two people in this world who loved me more than anyone. I should never have gotten involved with Adrian, I thought bitterly. None of this would have happened if only I’d listened to my aunt and uncle. I had made the mistake of getting caught up in my feelings, and I’d let myself get too close to him. But it was too late now. Even if he genuinely cared for me, there were others who didn’t.

  I closed my eyes as tears scalded a path down my cheeks, and I concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths so I wouldn’t start an all-out cry-fest. If Meg saw how upset I was and asked me what was wrong, I was afraid I’d break down and tell her the truth. And the truth was something I couldn’t face at the moment.

  But when I opened my eyes again, Meg was gone. I rolled to my back to find the room bathed in the pale light of a full moon, and I realized I’d fallen asleep. I held my breath as I listened for other sounds in the house, but all I heard was silence.

  A sudden movement from the corner of the room had me bolting upright in bed. The pounding in my head flared, and I collapsed against my pillow, not caring at that moment if I was about to be murdered. Even death would have been a relief compared to the dagger-like pain behind my eyes.

  But I only felt a warm touch on my arm. “It’s okay. It’s me.”

  I squinted in the darkness, the blurriness beginning to recede as my vision returned to normal. Relief flooded through me. “Adrian.”

  The bedside lamp clicked on, and I blinked like an owl, shielding my eyes with my hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

  “How did you get in here?”

  “Your window was open.”

  I frowned and pulled the sheet tighter around me. “That’s really creepy. Maybe climbing through girls’ windows is how you show your romantic side,” I said with a grimace, putting my hand to my head, “but I’d rather you show up at the front door with a bouquet of flowers. And you know if my aunt or uncle catches you in here, they’ll kill you.”

  Adrian shook his head, looking amused. “I’ll take my chances.” Then his face fell into a scowl as he got a closer look at my face. “What’s wrong?”

  The intensity of his voice grabbed me by the throat and squeezed. I wanted to say that nothing was wrong, that I was fine, but we both knew I wasn’t. I reached out to take his hand, and he flinched at my touch.

  “You’re burning up,” he said. He yanked his hand free as though I’d scalded him. He began pacing the space in front of my bed. “This is bad. This is really bad. I’m gonna kill her.”

  “Kill who?” I asked, even though I knew perfectly well who he was talking about.

  Adrian stopped his pacing and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I can’t believe it,” he said. “I didn’t want to believe that she . . .”

  He didn’t have to finish his sentence in order for me to understand exactly what he was trying to say. “Shyla did this to me.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “You are seriously burning up,” he said. Then he nodded as though he’d made up his mind. “That’s it. I’m going to get Meg.”

  Adrian was on his feet in one swift movement and had his hand already on the doorknob when I lunged for him, completely ignoring the pain in my head. I was overcome by a sudden feeling of vertigo, and I fell to the floor with my arms wrapped awkwardly around his waist. He stumbled, nearly falling to his knees.

  “Sarah! What—?”

  “Please don’t,” I said, even as I fought back the sweeping darkness. “They can’t know. I’ve kept too many secrets from them, and . . . they just can’t find out, okay?”

  Adrian looked down at me, his hand still on the door, clearly unsure about what to do. With a sigh, he put one arm around my back and the other underneath the crook of my knees, scooping me up and cradling me against his chest as though I weighed nothing at all. He put me back in my bed and pulled the sheet up over my legs.

  “What did she do, Adrian?” I could feel my strength ebbing, and my voice came out as barely a whisper.

  Adrian sat on the bed next to me. His eyes were wide, the whites of them red with an apparent lack of sleep. “I don’t know exactly, but I know it wasn’t good. The fire. It looked different somehow. Not like regular fire, you know? It was all bright blue and reddish. Kind of swirly.”

  “I know,” I said, only just then remembering. At the time, I’d been too freaked out about the searing heat to register that the flames hadn’t been the normal flickers of fire. There’d definitely been an eerie, supernatural quality to them.

  “After you ran away,” he said, “Shyla took off. I ran after her, but I lost her in the woods. I’ve been trying to find her ever since. She’s not answering her cell.”

  “She’s not at your Gran’s?”

  “I haven’t called Gran yet,” Adrian said, an odd note to his voice. He didn’t say anything more about the subject. In any event, I didn’t care where Shyla was, as long as she stayed far away from me.

  “Why did you come here?”

  Adrian stroked the hair away from my forehead. His fingers traced a path along the side of my face, curving around the back of my neck until his hand was cradling the base of my skull.

  “Because I had to see for myself,” he said. He lowered his eyes before adding, “And because I was afraid.”

  My hand snaked up to rest on his where it cupped the back of my head. Our eyes locked, and he seemed to freeze in that moment. My voice shook when I spoke. “I am afraid. Whatever Shyla did to me, Adrian . . . I don’t feel right.”

  He leaned down and kissed me then, a gentle caress of his lips against mine. I locked my hands around the back of his neck and held him tight against me, needing the reassurance and security of his touch.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said at last. “I’ll find my sister, and I’ll figure out how to fix this. I swear I will.”

  I closed my eyes and released my grip on him, wanting above all else to believe what he was saying. But all I managed in response was, “My head feels like it’s going to explode.”

  “I’ll get you something,” he said, rising to his feet. “Tylenol in the bathroom?”

  I rolled to my side so that I was facing away from him, not wanting him to see my face contorting in pain. “Do you honestly think it will help?”

  I heard Adrian’s soft sigh and a moment later felt his hand on my back. “I promise you I’ll figure this out,” he whispered. The bed shifted under his weight as he sat down again. “Close your eyes. I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

  “Then I never want to sleep,” I said with a jaw-cracking yawn that nearly split my head in two. “Oh, God. That really hurt.”

  Adrian’s touch on my head was feather-soft. “Go to sleep.”

  I opened my eyes to the hazy gray light of early morning, and the first thing I saw was David sitting at the foot of my bed with his back propped against the wall. Though his eyes were wide open, his face was devoid of all expression. He held his fisted hands in his lap and stared unblinking at the opposite wall, not realizing I was awake.

  “David.” I put my hand to my throat, surprised at how husky my voice sounded. I tried clearing it to see if that woul
d help. “How long have you been sitting there?”

  David’s body snapped to attention. He swiveled to me, and his face flooded with what could only be described as relief. “She’s awake! Meg, hurry up!”

  Meg came rushing into my room holding a steaming basin of some lemon-scented liquid. She placed the basin on the nightstand and shooed David off the bed with a wave of her hand. Then she ripped the sheet from my body in one swift movement and, before I could even complain, began mopping my skin with a cloth she’d wrung from the lemony broth.

  I tried to shove Meg’s hands away—the liquid felt too cold against my skin, despite the steam—but I didn’t have the energy to move. My teeth clacked together until I thought they’d crumble from my mouth, and my muscles spasmed, sending waves of wracking pain throughout my entire body.

  Meg spared a glance at David. “Check the tea. It’s nearly ready.”

  It was then that I caught a glimpse of the purple smudges under Meg’s eyes and the way her hair was pulling free from her usually tidy braid. I wondered how long I’d been out of it.

  “He’s worried about you,” Meg said, inclining her head in David’s direction as he left the room. She dipped the cloth in the basin, wrung it out, and ran it over my cheeks and forehead. “We both are.”

  I closed my eyes, and my throat ached with unshed tears. I fought to take an adequate lungful of air, but my chest felt suddenly heavy. I knew it was because of the guilt I carried for causing their worry. How would my aunt react when she found out I wasn’t merely sick with a virus but suffering from something a lot worse?

  “You were crying out in your sleep,” Meg said. “Something about fire. Must be how hot you are. Your temperature’s high.”

  “Oh,” I said. I closed my eyes, unable to remember the details of what I’d been dreaming. Had I been dreaming of Shyla again, or maybe the wolf?

  “You were thrashing a lot, too,” Meg continued. “It took forever for you to settle down. And your fever.” She shook her head, her forehead creasing. “It’s erratic. It spikes and then goes back down, and then it spikes again. If this keeps up, I’m taking you to see Dr. Benton. I’ve already called him, and he said to keep an eye on it. I’m supposed to call in an hour with a report.”

  David came in with the tea then, holding out the cup to me. “Elder flower. Take a drink.”

  I shook my head slowly from side to side, refusing the drink with a feeble wave of the hand. “No. I don’t want any.”

  “Can you stomach something stronger?” Meg said. She must have been really worried if she was suggesting something other than what she’d grown and prepared with her own two hands.

  I closed my eyes again and took a deep breath. There was no holding back now; I had to come clean. I had to tell them the truth. “Medicine won’t do any good.”

  “It will,” Meg said. “I’ll get you some now.” She made a move to get up, but I grabbed her arm.

  “I think I’m dying,” I said. I could feel the internal temperature of my body creeping up even as I spoke, threatening to destroy my vital organs cell by tiny cell. How much longer did I have until the end came? A day, maybe two?

  Meg stared at me for a moment before breaking out in hysterical laughter. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve got a virus of some sort. Dr. Benton said so.” She patted my hand. “You’re not dying.”

  “I am,” I insisted. “You and David were right all along. Shyla—”

  “What about Shyla?” David cut in, his voice suddenly gruff. The doorbell rang then, and he glared at me before storming off, muttering something under his breath that I couldn’t quite hear.

  Meg collapsed on the bed next to me, shaking her head. “Please don’t tell me Shyla had anything to do with this, Sarah.”

  Before I could answer, David came back with Adrian following closely behind. “He has something he wants to tell us,” he said.

  He moved to the side to allow Adrian to enter, though he stood no more than a few feet away, staring down his nose with a look of intimidation. I wondered how David would react if he knew Adrian had sneaked in through my window in the middle of the night.

  Adrian shifted from one foot to the other and spoke only to Meg, most likely assuming she was the lesser of the two evils. “I know I’m not welcome here,” he said, “but I needed to find out how Sarah was this morning. I needed to make sure she was okay.”

  Meg narrowed her eyes as they traveled over Adrian’s wrinkled clothes and uncombed hair. His face was covered in dark stubble, and he smelled of dried sweat. He looked like he’d been awake all night.

  “How did you know that there was anything wrong with Sarah?” she said.

  Adrian glanced back at David before turning to Meg again, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Because I was with her at the creek yesterday when Shyla attacked her, and then last night I climbed through Sarah’s window when I suspected she might be in danger. I had to find out for sure.”

  “You did what?” David bellowed.

  Meg and David reacted just like I expected they would. Meg couldn’t decide if she wanted to cry or yell, and David just yelled.

  “Oh, Sarah,” Meg said, her face in her hands. “What have you done?”

  “I should have you arrested!” David said, further making his point by poking Adrian repeatedly in the chest with his finger. He turned on me then. “We trusted you! How long have you been sneaking around behind our backs?”

  Meg sat still as stone, a look of resignation on her face. “Does it really matter now?” She looked up at David, tears in her eyes. He stared back, incredulous. “What’s done is done,” she said. “All we can do now is figure out what to do.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. Meg waved away my apology, not meeting my eyes. If Shyla’s magic didn’t kill me, the disappointment in Meg’s face would.

  She squared her shoulders and wiped the tears from her face before turning to Adrian. “Where is Shyla now? We have to get her to undo whatever magic she’s done.”

  “I d-don’t know,” Adrian stammered. “Gran and I—”

  “Imogene?” Meg interrupted, bolting to her feet. “Of course! Does she know where Shyla is?”

  Adrian shook his head. “I talked to Gran this morning. Shyla left a note saying she was staying the night with a friend from work, but I doubt that’s true. Shyla’s pretty much a loner.”

  “Why would Shyla help Sarah?” David said, still fuming. “After what she’s already done to this family . . . the fire.”

  “She said she didn’t start that fire!” Adrian said. But there was not one person in the room who seemed convinced of it. Not even Adrian.

  David’s face flushed red. “She has no reason to help Sarah.”

  “Maybe there’s nothing to do,” I said, sick of their loud arguing.

  No one said a word as they all silently considered the possibility that my life was slowly coming to an end. Though half my family had been taken away from me at such an early age, I’d never really considered my own mortality. But when I considered how close to death I felt now, the prospect was terrifying.

  All of a sudden a searing heat tore at the core of my insides, making me cry out. And even though I felt the vibrations of the sound in my chest and throat, I couldn’t hear anything above the rushing of blood in my ears. I looked from David to Meg to Adrian, each of them with fear bright in their eyes. They began frantically talking and gesturing, and yet their voices remained silent to me.

  Meg grabbed the thermometer and thrust it in my ear, and I witnessed the horror on her face as I read her lips: one-oh-six point five!

  I screamed again as a lightning bolt of pain ripped at my insides, plunging me into darkness.

  Chapter 12

  My eyes fluttered open.

  An elongated triangle of light spilled into my room from the hallway, its apex touching my hand where it lay clenched on my chest. Although I knew from the darkness outside the window that it was late, I wasn’t sure if it was middle-of-the-n
ight dark or the quiet calm of pre-dawn morning.

  I shifted uneasily in bed, and my eyes came to rest on a dark lump curled on the floor—Meg. David was asleep at the desk, his body hunched over at the middle in what had to be a very uncomfortable position. I watched his back rise and fall as he slept.

  I gingerly pushed the covers aside and managed to pull myself into a sitting position with effort. My dry, chapped lips twisted into a grimace as the pain in my head and joints exploded. I took a deep, steadying breath and wondered when was the last time I’d used the bathroom or had anything to eat. Did basic necessities even matter when you were on Death’s doorstep, or did you simply succumb to the inevitable and wither away in bed? My stomach tightened and growled at the thought of food, though, and I realized I had no desire to starve to death.

  Carefully, I swung first one leg over the edge of the bed and then the other. The room started to spin, and I curled my toes into the plush fibers of the carpet underfoot, concentrating on its softness as I waited for the spinning to stop. But when I finally managed to stand, the blood drained from my head at once as though I’d sprung an internal leak. Darkness closed in on me, and I sat heavily on the bed.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” David hissed in my ear.

  He wrapped his arm around my waist, his voice sounding distant and hollow. I took a deep breath to increase the oxygen to my brain, willing the black spots to recede from the edges of my vision.

  “I thought you were asleep,” I whispered, trying not to wake Meg.

  “Just resting my eyes. What do you think you’re doing?” he asked again.

  “I’m starving,” I said. “I’m going to the kitchen to make a sandwich.”

  David shook his head. “No you’re not. Get back in bed and I’ll make one for you.”