Shadows of the Keeper (56 page)

But, no amount of magicks, powders,
foods, nor teas returned the lass’s wild humor, her infectious laughter long
silenced now.  Even her biting words were sorely missed.  He would
tear down Hell, demand Hades return Dezenial, if the power could be his to accomplish
such a feat.  He’d even swallowed ancient pride and begged help from his
oldest nemesis, Pendaran.  The druid had looked towards a far off camp his
father still kept within the forest beyond Broc’s lower bailey.  Rage,
sadness and defeat marched across Pendaran’s face.  “Do not ask of me,
Outlander, that which I’ve been forbidden.” 

Broc and his men were muted with
shock when the powerful druid clasped Broc’s shoulder as comrade, before
vanishing from their presence.  Xyn had stared at the immortal Forest Lord
for a long time before he too vanished, none having realized he’d warmed
himself by Broc’s fire, in the great hall, overhearing his plea to save Emily.

He was a bastard when Aurelia
lived, and he was a bastard now with Emily.  One day, regardless Xyn’s
powers, Broc would find a way to make the ancient one feel the consequences of
his cold indifference.  In the meantime, the only thing he could do was
remain vigilant, occasionally guiding Emily from the dark of despair.  And
proudly be a father to her children.

Her light faded, and they all knew
it was only a matter of time before she would find a way to Hades. 

“Xyn wishes to speak privately with
you.  I’ve offered a much under-used solar, but he says his words are to
be spoken far from here.”

She nodded.  “I shouldn’t be
long.  There is nothing he could say to me that I truly want to
hear.  Still,” she smiled at him.  “There’s a measure of respect to
pay, aye?”  She swiped wayward strands of her hair from her face. 
“When I return, I’ll come to the hall.  The children love Colin’s cello.”

“Perhaps we’ll hear a full song
before Kendara decides it tastes better than it plays.”

They shared grins over the antics
of their temperamental daughter.  “My daughter.”  He shook his
head.  “Honored and still in awe.”

“You make a fine father. 
Don’t wait on my account. I’m sure everyone is anxious to dance, laugh and
enjoy.”

Broc nodded.  At least she
would be out of this wretched cold she seemed to savor more and more of
late.  He watched as her pale, tapered fingers lifted her hood, ermine
flaked delicately with snow.  The pale fur was a sharp contrast against
her death-white face.  She offered a quick smile before one solid clap of
her hands.

She vanished.

As did her shadow protector, the
air shifting slightly when Vaide vacated the tower.  Gentleness vanished
from Broc’s face, replaced with fury.  Fearless, he unsheathed his sword.

“Unless ye’ bring Dezenial, be
gone, Hades.  She’ll no’ be jumping into yer’ arms on
my
watch!  Twice, ye’ve tempted her.  God or no’, I’ll come down into
yer’ realm and cut ye’ down, ye’ try again!”

Broc remained on the terrace,
making sure heavy mists of Otherworld retreated, mocking laughter infuriating
him further.

*   *   *   *   *

“We observe.  It is not for us
to interfere with your world, or any we have resided upon.”

“I’m aware of your watching, of
your sitting on the sidelines.  Shall I fetch you popcorn, or will the act
of lifting your own arm to snack also prove too taxing for you?”  She
hoped for ire, but was granted none. 
Stone and withered
. 
Must
be nice to remain aloof, feeling nothing
.  She almost envied him. “So,
when doomsday arrives, you simply choose the most worthy, and whisk them
away.” 
Ridiculous
.  “What, on your spaceship?”  Then
again, with all she’d seen, would a UFO really surprise her these days? 
Highly
unlikely
. 

“We do not transport utilizing any
form of machinery.”  He scratched his grizzled chin. 
“Barbaric.  To your other observation, there is no such thing as
most
worthy
.”

“Well,
Noah
, how
do
you decide?”

Xyn scowled.  “Those answers
will be part of an infinite wisdom settling upon you when the time
comes.”  Regally, he sat upon the fallen tree. 

Infinite wisdom?  Maeve said
they were referred to as Elders; claimed they’d been here since before
civilization.  Theories her world had long suspected were realities to
Clan MacLarrin.  Maeve had warned her about a great many things, recently,
her topic had been crop circles.  “Why is everyone so afraid to speak of
the crop circles?  I’ve wanted to see them—“

“Never! Forgive me.”  He pulled
his long robes tighter around himself and relaxed.

“As Lumynari hunt you to control
and manipulate—“

“So too does something hunt you for
the same reasons.”

“Precisely.  Those crop
circles are insignias declaring which hunting party presently resides amongst
you humans, while searching for us.”

Unpolluted by city pandemonium she
hoped to never suffer again, sounds of nature lulled them both into a long
silence.  No car horns, no shouting, no city odors.  The whispers
upon the air were a balm to her senses.  How sad for modern man, that he
failed to realize how suffocating his cities truly were.  She could
actually hear Lord Winter breathing, apparently suffering ague.  She never
wanted to leave this realm again.

“Tell me how you fare.  Tell
me why you clasp to your grief.”

Was it really his concern?  He
who had watched and done nothing to save . . . she looked away.  Would
anyone have been able to save Dezenial?  The javelin pierced her beloved
clean through, pinning him to the snow.   How he’d remained coherent
long enough to speak words to her . . . she bowed her head, eyes leaking
again.  How had a god died from—Shadow.  The bitch had killed her own
son. 
Hold me forever in your memory, Keer’dra
. . . what she’d give
just to hear his heavily accented voice, its deep gentleness simultaneously
warming and breaking her.

“Emily?”

“It’s likened to swimming in a cold
ocean.  The shore’s not far.  Finally,
finally
this is almost
over and I’ll walk upon warm sands again.  But, before I can thank gods
and saints, a riptide yanks me under, plunging me so deep, I can no longer tell
where sunlight is.  Or even if it continues to exist.  Then, I
surface.  For what?  I’m now so far from the precious stretch of
sand, I wonder what’s the point of resuming my swim towards it.”

“You have described exactly how it
was when I lost Pendaran’s mother.”

“Pendaran had a mother?”

Xyn laughed outright.  “You
thought perhaps I created him?”

“We all need our distractions.”

Feathers ruffled far above
them.  Emily secretly smiled, Cianna forever watching over her.

“His mother was filled with such
joy, I wondered how any one human could not burst within.  Her aura was
blinding.”

“Human?”

Xyn paused drawing in the sand with
his long stick and scrutinized her.  “Somewhat.”

“Why aren’t there females of your
kind?”  Always, they watched her.  Most especially when she practiced
sword fighting against her father.  Broc had begged her not to continue
training anywhere near his men.  They’d thought father and daughter were
going to main each other, their attacks beyond violent.  And then, she’d
begun battling her father’s garrison—
no’ one at a time
, Broc had
bellowed after polishing off two bottles of scotch—
but with thirteen Daemon
Elites rushing her.
  Emily had teased that his hair would become shock
white if he didn’t high himself off to his library until she was
finished.  For all the good it did.  How many times had she spied him
glowering from his windows?

“Your world refers to it as
genocide.  We are the last.  Branded outlaw, we’re hunted.”

“You wished to speak
privately.  You must know Sister Wind will carry your words back to
Aunsgar.  She loves gossip, and I suspect, she loves Aunsgar.  She
tells him
everything
.”

Xyn smiled.  “He’s aware of
what we will discuss.”

So too, did she.  “Why the
necessity of a Keeper if you’re so powerful?”

“Should we be found, Lady Emily, we
have taken oath to expire.”

She began to pace.  “I could
stress over what you’re implying, but I’ve no feelings left.  Why don’t
you save me, and just tell me in plain English.”

He hesitated.

Pendaran almost laughed. 
Almost.  He didn’t know which amused him more, that Emily thought he was
Cianna or that his sire was actually at a loss for words.  The druid
hunkered down upon the branch, high above, and kept still.  His father’s
temper, and the errands evoked requiring centuries to fulfill were hardly
child’s play.  Pendaran settled for smirking as best as a falcon could
smirk, keeping his father’s wrath at bay.

“You, and those you will one day
choose, will continue in our stead.  You would transport, adapt, and begin
anew.  When those you’ve saved, by taking them to a new world, begin to
grow independent, their belief in magicks and natural powers waning until they
believe them to be evil, you’ll step away allowing them whatever destiny they
choose for themselves.”

“The world could end tomorrow—ten
thousand years from now.”

He nodded.

“But, I’m the Keeper?”

Another nod.

She stared at his unshaven
face.  Elderly.  A ruse.  She’s seen his lithe form when he’d
swept his robes away.  Strange clothing that clung to him, acting as body
armor without the bulk, and exposing the muscular definition of a man in his
twenties.  Aye, the robes weren’t the only thing about Xyn hiding
secrets. 

Sister Wind and Emily arrived at
the same conclusion together.  Emily’s hair suddenly stilled, Sister Wind
holding her breath.  “Are you offering me immortality?”

Xyn remained silent. 

Well, isn’t he just a real
thinker
? Emily tossed her lunar white hair, jutting her chin in
defiance. 
I’ve better things to do than play Twenty Questions with the
prig who didn’t bother even trying to save Dezenial
. Above, the bird
fluttered.  Emily searched, but failed to find the beast.
Too dark
. 
I promised Broc I’d join them for music.  Conversations with Xyn are, as
usual, a wasted effort
.

Xyn watched the proud young
woman.  Already so regal in her bearing, passionate about her
beliefs.  And a temper to behold.  Smile tugged, but he refused to
relent.  He could see why Dezenial had made his sacrifice. 
Pendaran’s mother had been as fiery as this one.  Sadness skittered and
was gone before the woman could think to ask.  In another life, she’d been
his daughter, more like him . . . too much like him.  If Zaiyne had
inherited more of her mother’s fire, possibly, she would have survived Forest
Lords poisoning her and presenting her as sacrifice to Shadow.  Instead,
Pendaran’s sister had been too trusting.

“I’m already immortal. 
Forever, I exist for my children first.”

“I have a certain fondness for mine
as well.”

“
Yours
takes more than
fondness.  You should still practice the right to beat him.”

Sister Wind gasped, Emily’s hair
lifting wildly.  Xyn laughed, watching Emily bat her invisible sibling
away, and holding her hair in a makeshift band.

“A millennia of lives.  A
millennia of them to remember my loss,” she whispered to him, lip quivering
before she regained composure.

It had been a long, long time since
Xyn had found himself riveted.  It was likened to being punched in the
stomach, again and again.  He wondered Emily’s reaction, should he fall to
the ground, writhing.

“You have been crowned with the
fortune of two loves—“

Visually, she impaled him.

“I see.  Forgive me.”  He
bowed his head slightly.  “In my viewing, always a mate finds
another.  I’d not realized the depth of your bonding with Dezenial.” 
He tapped his stick on the icy ground, lost in thought.  He’d not
comprehended the magnitude of the sacrifice he’d forced upon the Lumynari
warrior. 

The bearer of that weapon wasn’t
even part of the battle, but conjured by Xyn to force into motion—

“Do I drink something, or chant
nonsensical words?”

Xyn lost his smile. And his
musings.

She was accepting.  Like
Aurelia, she placed herself last, all others coming first.  A new emotion
gripped him.  He analyzed its influence upon his senses.  “No. 
All is as it should be.”  Interesting.  This feeling engulfing him
made it difficult to look into her eyes.  She watched him as if his soul
were visible.  He pulled his cloak tighter.  Was this how he made
others feel?  Exposed? 

“And had I declined?

His tongue stuck.  He could
only nod as if senile.

“Xyn?”

He concentrated.  Finally,
words formulated and became vocal.  “You would have slipped quietly from
this realm in the winter of your eight-second winter.  A smile, they would
have found upon your face.  You would have given your good wishes that
your great grandchildren sleep well, before retiring for the night, and passing
as you slept.  Your immortality would have ended with an incantation none
realized you knew.  Your children gown, their own families occupying their
time, your duties, in your mind, would have been complete.”

Emily gulped air, unaware she’d
been holding her breath. 

“I cannot see into the realms
containing your dead, nor can I see into the world beneath us.  I had not
realized just whom Aurelia had chosen to sire her.”  He chuckled.  It
lacked any real joy.  “I do not think she truly realized the depth of her
decision.”

“Will I now have knowledge of these
strange powers?  And how do I get rid of Pendaran?  I’m not over his
deceit.”

“To him, you will always be his
little sister.”