The Keep: The Watchers

by Veronica Wolff

  But then, an explosion of motion. A shrieking wind came whipping toward me from deep in the cave.

  Bats.

  Hundreds of them shot out, screeching, flapping, careening toward me, close enough to tangle in my hair. I bit my lips to silence a scream and dropped to the ground, curling into a ball and covering my head. Like the fluttering of a single black veil, they swooped out, then whipped right back at me. Scree-scree-scree-scree.

  “Holy shit holy shit holy shit.” I crushed my face to the ground, my body rolled up tight. So much for not cursing.

  I waited. Gradually, the flapping and screeching subsided until all I heard was my own panting breaths echoing off the walls and the heavy thump-thump of my heart.

  I risked a peek. The bats had gone back to wherever they’d come from, and this part of the cave was empty once more. Shuffling forward on my hands and knees, I peered hard into its depths, but there was just blackness. Deep blackness and a sharp tang, the odor of innumerable nesting creatures.

  Gathering my courage, I got to my feet. I had to hunch to stand and tiptoed as deep as I could. I didn’t get far. The cave soon narrowed to a point tight enough that it wouldn’t allow passage to anything much larger than those flying rodents.

  So much for finding the sea gate on my first try.

  I returned to the ledge and peered over, gulping in the fresh air, ignoring the bloody implications of my now completely soaked belly. I scanned the cliffside, but it was too jagged. The mysterious sea door might’ve been right below me, but I’d never know it. It was just too impossible to make sense of all those chinks and cracks.

  I’d need to find it from the water.

  The decision was easy. But explaining myself to Ronan later that afternoon? Not so much.

  “Deep-water techniques?” He narrowed those forest-green eyes at me, not believing me for a minute.

  I’d wondered how it’d be to run into him—after all, the last time we were together, we’d almost kissed. Seeing him now, although he was distant, he wasn’t cold, but it was hard to say for sure. He was always so impossible to read. Was he angry? Resentful? Regretful, even?

  I’d have put off this meeting—and those questions—altogether, but I didn’t see any other choice. Who else had access to a boat? Who else could take me out into the water without raising suspicion? When I’d tracked him down, he was even at the car already.

  “Yes,” I insisted. “I’ve been practicing my breath-holding techniques. I want to work up to more difficult conditions.” I hoisted my kit bag higher on my shoulder and flinched against the searing pain along my stomach. I needed Ronan to make up his mind ASAP, but he still looked far from convinced. I brightened my smile, adding, “I’d eventually like to try, you know, maybe like a free dive.”

  The corners of his eyes crinkled in a skeptical look. “‘Maybe like a free dive’?”

  Uh-oh. Too far. “I’ve been thinking about what you’ve said, about preparing myself. Making myself more competitive. Watchers need to have experience with deep, breath-hold dives, right?”

  He ran a hand through his damp hair, and I refused to contemplate how that dark mop poking every which way was like girl kryptonite. “But I already went out for a swim, just now.”

  “That’s right,” I said brightly. “Which means it’ll be easy to hop back in the car and go again.” Pasting a bland, expectant smile on my face, I waited, and it was like a game of chicken, seeing who’d cave first. When he didn’t say anything, I busted out the big guns and sighed heavily. “I guess, if you don’t want to, I could probably handle the boat by myself….”

  “Truly, Ann? You’re truly going that route?”

  The nickname stopped me cold. He’d called me Ann just a couple times before, and it never failed to punch through my armor. It was what my mother had called me.

  He dug his keys out of his pocket and went around to the driver’s-side door. Placing a hand on the hood, he leaned over to look at me. “Are you coming or not?”

  I got in before either of us had a chance to change our minds, holding my body carefully against my pain.

  “By the way,” he said as he pulled onto the main road, “manipulative isn’t a good look for you.”

  “It worked, didn’t it?” I settled in, careful of my injury, and buckled up. I had to hide my grin—no need to rub this in.

  We bounced along in the SUV, and for a while, neither of us spoke. But, oddly, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Sure there was some tension—romantic and otherwise—but where my relationship with Ronan was concerned, friction and awareness had come to feel like normal states, so this was like slipping into something comfortably familiar.

  After a while, I caught him peering at me from the corner of his eye. He looked away quickly, eyes glued back on the road.

  “What?” I asked, instantly on the defensive. Was he going to find a way to blame our almost-kiss on me?

  “Nothing.”

  I shifted in my seat to get a better look at him, but his profile gave away nothing. “You were thinking something just then.”

  “It’s just…” He considered for a moment.

  “Jeez, Ronan. Just what? What’d I do now?”

  “What did you do?” He gave me a startled look. “Och, silly girl,” he muttered, then simply reached over me to pop open the glove box.

  It took a conscious effort not to flinch away. The closeness of his hand to my knees made something pulse low in my belly, so completely was I aware of him.

  But then I registered what he’d pulled out. An old cassette tape. “Where’d you get that?” I asked incredulously.

  The slightest of smiles quirked the side of his mouth. “As you said, I have my secrets.”

  “Don’t I know it?” I snatched it from him. It was a plain black tape with #14 written on the white label in black marker. “What’s this?”

  He snatched it back. “Something I think you’ll like.”

  He slid it in the tape deck. The hiss of static filled the car, followed by a clicking, and then…music.

  It stole my breath—literally. My entire body seized stiff as I held my breath, not daring to move. Music. It’d been so long since I’d experienced it privately like this. Not Baroque classics played by a vampire string quartet. Not Dagursson’s waltzes. Just sitting in a car, riding and listening. Letting the notes wash over me.

  It was a piano solo, and I heard it with such texture, it was as though I’d never truly listened to music before. Higher notes unraveled their tune on the treble clef, while the low bass keys were played so tentatively, I felt the emotion behind each stroke of the pianist’s fingers. The ponderous pauses, the mini silences between notes—every second was a revelation.

  Was it the blood that’d attuned me like this? Or was it merely my own deprivation? Had my raw emotional state made me vulnerable? Sitting in this confined space, with Ronan, the guy who’d tricked me here, then had the gall to turn around and care.

  Like the notes, I let these thoughts wash over me, letting myself be brave enough to truly face and contemplate each one.

  “Evgeny Kissin.” Ronan’s subdued voice broke into my thoughts. “That’s the name of the pianist. It’s my favorite recording.”

  “Number fourteen,” I said. “That’s the Moonlight Sonata.” Some fundamental tension, a knot that’d been clenched deep in my chest, unspooled. Even the throbbing along my belly subsided. I let my head sink back and sighed a blissful sigh. I loved lots of bands and musicians—Foo Fighters, Cat Power, Nick Cave—but before them all there’d been Beethoven, and I loved him maybe most of all. “How’d you know?”

  “How’d I know what?” Ronan asked. I opened my eyes to peer at him, and his questioning gaze was waiting for me. “How did I know that the girl who’d risked her life just so she could smuggle her iPod onto this island might like to listen to a spot of music?”

  His humor lightened the mood, yet somehow that only made the moment more serious. More meaningful.

 
; I didn’t take my eyes from him as I asked, “Does this mean I’m to add intuition to the list of your many gifts and abilities?” I quirked an affectionate smile, feeling it in that newly unwound place in my chest.

  He laughed then, and the free sound of it was a warm rush along my skin. “Aye, I’m a regular superhero.”

  The tape quality was miserable, all raspy and fuzzy, but even so, I leaned back again, letting the music wash over me. “I love Beethoven.” I’d shut my eyes to savor it, but then shot them open again. “Wait. Isn’t this illegal?”

  His probing look added some other layer of meaning to my question.

  I felt myself blush as I added, “The tape, I mean. Is it allowed?”

  “Are you going to tell on me?” He took his eyes from the road to give me a slow smile.

  Another smile? Another light comment? The guy was slaying me. We’d never had this. Never done this before. What did it mean, this easy banter with Ronan? Was he flirting?

  “We’ll see,” I replied, attempting to sound just as flirtatious. “Maybe if you’re good, I won’t tell.” I blushed furiously—that hadn’t come out right. “I mean, if you’re good with me in the water. For our class,” I quickly added. “As a teacher.” My cheeks were really flaming now, and I turned to watch out the window, letting the leather headrest cool my skin.

  Crap…I couldn’t flirt if I tried.

  But the little exchange had clearly made him uncomfortable, too, because when he spoke again, it was stilted. “Recordings like this aren’t illegal,” he informed me, answering my question with a formality that, at that moment, I appreciated. “For instructors, at least. We’re allowed to listen to music. As long as it’s classical.”

  “No Led Zeppelin?”

  “I said classical, not classic.” The look he shot me—once more relaxed around the eyes—said he was beginning to loosen up again. “Definitely no Led Zeppelin. I imagine even Debussy is too gauche for the undead.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “Ronan,” I exclaimed. “Was that another joke?”

  “Mm.” He nodded, looking pleased with himself. “Terribly clever of me.”

  I laughed again, and like that, the tension was gone. It was a place I never thought we’d go—one of easy comfort, where we joked like friends. It made me feel safe enough to ask something that’d been nagging me.

  “So…can I ask you a question?”

  He smirked. “I’d be shocked if you didn’t.”

  “The vampires on this island…” I took a steadying breath. Formulating the words in my mind, I realized how ridiculous it was.

  “The vampires?” he prompted.

  “They don’t, you know”—another breath, slower this time, exhaled through the teeth—“they’re not the kind who turn into bats, are they?”

  A raucous laugh exploded from him, reverberating through the car. “Bats? Now you’re the one to joke.”

  I crossed my arms at my chest. “You don’t have to laugh at me.”

  “Aye.” He dabbed tears from his eyes. “I really do.” One last hee escaped him—was that a guy giggle?—and he asked, “What on earth made you ask that?”

  “I saw a bat is all,” I mumbled.

  “You what?”

  “Bat,” I snapped. “I saw a bat.”

  “You keep company with ancient vampires, and yet you’re afraid of a wee winged rat?” He chuckled one last time.

  “I didn’t say I was afraid.” I squirmed low in my seat, embarrassed.

  We were quiet after that, and I suspected it was the one brief mention of ancient vampires that’d made him serious again.

  Was he thinking about Carden? And what did it mean that, for a moment, I’d forgotten about him?

  The cove where he stored the boat came into view, and Ronan swerved off the road, bumping along the rocks and pulling the truck to a stop.

  He didn’t open the door, though. Instead, Ronan turned in his seat to face me, and dread shot through me to see how his expression had gone from serious to totally grim. “Why are we here?” he asked skeptically. “And don’t lie to me, Annelise. I know you’d rather set your hair on fire again than—what was it?—do deep-water breath-holding free-dive prep exercises?”

  I gave him an overly innocent grin. “I’ve been practicing.”

  He stared at me, silently challenging me to speak the truth.

  It was a look I was powerless against. “Fine,” I said. “I’m looking for something.”

  He raised his brows, waiting.

  “Fine,” I repeated, emphasizing the word. “I’m looking for a sea gate. I heard there was some sort of door carved into the cliffs.” The coastline was jagged, an uneven ribbon of small coves and inlets, and I pointed north, back toward campus, to the cliffside jutting between Crispin’s Cove and the sandier beaches. “Back that way.”

  He gave me a startled look. “By the keep?”

  “Is that where the keep is?” I asked innocently.

  “Annelise,” he said in a tone stern with warning.

  “C’mon, Ronan. I just want to see it. I heard the vampires have things delivered to them during that celebration you were talking about, that Up Helly Aa thing.”

  “I made a mistake telling you about that.” He pinned me with his eyes. “So what does that have to do with this gate?”

  “Apparently, boats pull up at high tide to deliver things.”

  “You’ve been busy.” He leaned back, looking tired all of a sudden.

  “Am I right?”

  “You must forget about this whole business.”

  “So I am right.”

  “Aye,” he admitted. “You’re right. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Boats come delivering things. Or people.” He’d leaned against the headrest, but he slowly turned his head back to me. “Please have a care.”

  “I will. I just want to see the door. That’s all. I promise.” I crossed my heart. “Seriously, I’ll be safer if you show it to me. I almost broke my neck this morning trying to hike down to it.”

  His knuckles went white, gripping the steering wheel. “You climbed the cliffs beneath the vampires’ castle?”

  “I said hike. It was more of a hike.”

  “I see.” His eyes narrowed. “Fine,” he said, mimicking our earlier exchange. “I’ll show you the sea gate. But in return, you’re going to have your swim lesson, too.”

  “What? No way.”

  “Yes way.” He got out, and I followed him to the back of the truck.

  “It’s going to be dark soon,” I protested.

  “All the better for this extensive training you’ve been telling me about.” He opened the back hatch and pulled out my bag. “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, then I’ll give swim lessons till you believe you’ll die from them if that’s what I feel will keep you safe.”

  I peered closely at him, wondering if I’d misunderstood. “Does that mean you’re not going to stop me from investigating the whole sea gate thing?”

  “If I asked you to stop, would you?”

  I shrugged. “Guess not.”

  He tossed me my gear. “Then get in your wetsuit.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  We walked up the beach to the boat. It was an old wooden dory, stored upside down, its oars nestled in its belly. Like the Range Rover, all Tracers had access to it, but as the resident surfer and sea fanatic, Ronan was the only one I’d ever seen use it.

  He’d grabbed rags from the back of the truck, and once we cast off from the shore, I watched, somewhat baffled, as he wrapped them around the paddles. “What’s that for?” I smirked. “To keep them from getting chilly?”

  The look he shot me told me this was no joking matter. “It muffles the sound of the oars. Sound carries on the wind. You want a closer look at the vampires, but we don’t want them to get a closer look at us.”

  It struck me then, how great the risk was that he was taking for me.

  We both had much to think on in silence. It took an eter
nity to row out, his expression growing more tense with every pull.

  “Do you want me to take a turn?” I whispered, showing off my flexed arm, trying for a little good humor. “I’ve been working out.” Though, secretly, I was pleased he was doing all the work—I doubted rowing was good for abdominal injuries.

  He glared silently as he skimmed the scarred wood in the water, pulling the boat to a stop.

  “I guess that means no,” I muttered. Surreptitiously cradling my belly in my arms, I turned to look back to shore. Ever careful, Ronan had made certain to row out farther than we usually did. Like, really far. How would I ever detect the gate from here? Unease made my voice sharp. “We’re pretty far away.”

  “I dare not go closer,” he said grimly, and I didn’t have to look at him to detect the clench of his jaw. “You endanger us both with this foolish endeavor.”

  What to say to that? He was right, of course. Responses like Thanks or I know didn’t quite cover it, so I only nodded. I knew exactly how much he was risking for me.

  I tried not to wonder why.

  The keep loomed far in the distance, and yet I shivered as though its shadow fell directly over me, its evil and darkness hungry to subsume me. A chill crept along my flesh, and I chafed my arms, telling myself I was being silly. That the black maws in its facade were merely castle windows and not watchful eyes peering at me, detecting my treacherous heart.

  My hands ached—I’d been gripping the boat’s edge harder than I realized—and I gave them a sharp shake. “Where are you, little gate?” I’d said it lightly, just enough to prove to myself that I wasn’t afraid. That I didn’t secretly fear I was making a terrible, terrible mistake. I shaded my eyes, peering hard. “Now if only I could figure out where the cliff ends and the castle begins.”

  Something hard nudged my back. “Calm yourself,” Ronan said, and the gentleness in his voice surprised me. My tone hadn’t provoked him. Rather, he’d discerned my anxiety, knowing the more snarky my commentary, the more stressed I really was. He was one of the few who understood that about me.