Read The Keep: The Watchers Online
Authors: Veronica Wolff
S
OMETHING COLD SLAPPED MY FACE
, and I gasped. Deep in my muzzy brain, I rejoiced at the rush of sweet air. Greedily, I sucked it in, but was slapped again.
Cold water. I accidentally inhaled it. Choked and coughed. Panicked.
My eyes shot open.
The sky was dark gray. Late afternoon. I could breathe. But I was…tied.
I shifted, assessing. My arms were numb, bound behind and under me. Something sharp dug into my spine. A rock. I was lying down, tied on top of a rock.
I wrenched my arms, adjusting my hands, nestling them into the small of my back. Rope cut into my wrists with every movement. Two lengths of it were stretched over me—one slashed across my hips and the other across my collarbone. I wriggled, but that only cinched the bonds tighter. “What the hell?”
There was rustling and I craned my neck, peering up over my head. Rob had knocked back the last of his water and was zipping his canteen into his pack.
“Hey,” I shouted. “Hey, moron. Is this how you fight? You tie me up so you can—what?—gnaw me to death?”
He approached, his face peering over me like a great moon dawning in my line of sight. “I’m not going to fight you.
They’re
going to fight you.”
My heart burst into a gallop. Frantically, I scanned the perimeter. “They who?”
“You’ll see.” He hitched his backpack onto his shoulders with a cocky little laugh. “Not me, though. I’m leaving. But don’t worry…. I doubt you’ll be alone for long.”
“Wait.” I tried to scoot down. Ignoring the rock cutting into my hands, I kicked lamely at him. “Are you serious? You tied me to a rock?” I kicked and flailed, but he only dodged out of the way. “Is this some kind of Greek mythology thing? What kind of poetic crap did Master Al order you to do, anyway?”
Alcántara wanted us to attack one another in moving and poetic ways, and I wouldn’t have put it past him to insist Rob reenact a great moment from literature.
“No way, dude. This is all me. Wait”—he stopped and stepped close—“just one last thing.” He eased into a squat, running his hands down my legs as he went.
“Get the hell off.” Ignoring the rope, I kicked like a maniac now, but he was too close for me to do any damage.
Crap.
I hadn’t thought he’d try to get physical. I shuddered at the creepy feel of his fingers running along my calves. But then I felt him fumbling at my boots…and,
double crap
…he was reaching for my stars.
“Get off,” I screamed, bucking and jerking wildly now. Warmth bloomed along my wrists and knuckles as the rock scored my skin.
I rammed my heels into his stomach, but he’d tied me up too well. He was able to dodge me, making my attempts laughable. And laugh he did.
Laughing, he stole a star from my boot. Standing, he tilted the star, studying it in the deepening twilight.
Even though I hadn’t budged, I was panting, glaring. It was the star Carden had given me.
Pain and regret stabbed me. I missed my vampire with such fresh longing. Like thinking a wound healed, only to remove the bandage and tear the scab away with it, I was left feeling as
raw, my heart as battered as on the day I first realized he was gone.
“Isn’t this pretty?” Rob tested a point of the star with his thumb. “It’s etched. Like feathers.”
The wings of a bird, you asshole.
But I’d never tell Rob that. Carden was the only one who knew the significance. I was his dove with wings of fire.
Was.
I hitched my hips and pistoned my feet toward his groin, but he hopped back, laughing harder. I tried again, and as I did, the rope across my chest shot up an inch, slipping close—too close—to my neck. I froze.
“Careful, little D.” He smiled and tapped my star on the rock. With a little toss, he adjusted it in his fingertips.
My eyes went wide. “What are you doing?”
He opened my coat.
“Don’t touch me,” I shrieked.
Rob slashed a giant hole in the belly of my pretty new catsuit.
“Stop!” The rope near my neck forgotten, I thrashed like a wild animal. “What are you doing?”
He placed a cool hand on my stomach. “Easy now. You might hurt yourself.” Slowly, he brought the star down. Traced it around my navel. “Alcántara will enjoy this bit of poetry, don’t you think? Slashed by one of your own stars.”
I grew still and stared, proud of the smile I managed to muster. “But will it be moving enough for him to forget you’re a fangless freak?”
He slashed then, quick and deep, a diagonal slice across the soft flesh of my belly. “Do you know where we are right now?” he asked as he used the hem of my coat to wipe my blood from the blade.
I gritted my teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing my pain. “Yeah, Rob.
I’m
with the asshole who’s going to die when I get out of here.”
“Wrong answer.” He struck then, a sucker punch in my gut, tearing the wound deeper, dizzying me, releasing a fresh wave of blood, drizzling down the sides of my torso. “You’re in Draug country,” he said. “They’ll scent your blood and come running. Which means I’m going to leave you now. Dark will come soon. They’ll be hungry.”
“They feed on fear,” I said, as much to convince myself as him.
He shrugged. “That’s cool. You go ahead and try not to freak out when they swarm you.” And then he simply turned and left.
“Coward,” I shouted after him. “Fangless freak can’t fight a girl.”
But my taunts were met with silence. I tried to tug my hands free, but it was hopeless. My movements only cut the rope deeper into my wrists.
I lay there for a minute, heart pounding.
Blood had pooled in my belly button. In the crease of my waist. It was oozing down my sides. I was dripping with it. If it didn’t call the Draug, it’d be sure to call
something
.
“Shit,” I said, looking left and right. Nothing. No one. I was stuck. “Shit.”
The blood cooled instantly. The evening was getting colder. The sun had already dipped below the hills. It was twilight. Soon full dark.
Draug craved the fear of others. They looked like demons, but they’d once been scared boys who’d not survived the transition
to Vampire. Despite what Rob thought, I believed I’d have the mental strength to be brave. To stave off that fear.
Draug might’ve craved fear, but they survived on blood. And although I was able to moderate my fear, the pumping of my own blood was something I had no control over.
Draug were thirstiest as the sun set. They’d be too thirsty
not
to attack me.
It wasn’t yet full dark when they came.
I
smelled him before I saw him. A Draug, coming.
I tugged my arms, testing my bonds, but that only brought a fresh gush of blood from my belly wound. “Oh shit,” I whispered, holding myself very, very still. “Here we go.”
The stench grew. I heard shuffles and snarls now. More than one Draug—a lot more. Craning my neck, I saw them, cresting the hill, ambling toward me, senseless and hungry, looking like something from a zombie movie.
My mind skittered to manic places. Wishful thoughts—how I might be saved, how I might have some undiscovered power to heal my wound—plummeted to grim musings. How best to get myself killed quickly, put out of my misery.
I heard rustling, apart from the Draug. It was the sound of someone elbowing their way through the mob.
Would it be Carden? For an instant, I half dreamed it might be.
But then an artificial sound cut to me. A
bzzt
, followed by a pungent smell like ozone. Like electricity.
Electricity.
I’d heard that sound before. Relief washed through me, listening as the Draug keeper zapped his way through. A mass of them had already gathered around me, staring and drooling like I was the turkey on their Thanksgiving table.
Tom’s wizened face popped into my line of sight. Our eyes met, and he didn’t smile, not precisely. But there was a tiny quirk at the corner of his mouth that said he wasn’t entirely unhappy to see me.
“Excellent timing,” I said, sounding more blasé than I felt.
“What trouble you in now, girl?”
“No trouble”—I shrugged, and the gesture sent a fresh trickle of blood down my side—“just hanging out. Thought I’d pay you a visit.”
Finally, he smiled, baring teeth badly in need of a dentist. He shook his head,
tsk
ing. “You’re aye reddin the fire, aren’t ye?”
“Huh?”
“Stirring trouble.” He tugged the rope at my shoulders, and I bit my lips against the flash of pain. Fresh blood oozed from my belly, and one of the Draug snarled. Tom took the cattle prod from the belt at his waist and zapped it. “Back,” he shouted, then muttered, “Damn beasts.” He met my eye. “Shall I help you, then?”
“Um…yes please?”
Sucking at his teeth, he studied the ropes. A few of the Draug jostled him from behind, but Tom cursed under his breath, quickly zapping them back. “I thought they was acting funny. They got all riled, of a sudden. I thought I’d take a look. See what’s what. Didn’t expect to see you again—though don’t know why I should be surprised.” He considered me for a minute, looking very perplexed. “Wee troublemaker, you are.”
I gave him a toothy, pleading smile. “Do you think you could cut me loose now? Please?”
“Aye, I’m at it. I’m at it.” He pulled a knife from his sock and began to saw the rope at my shoulder. “What are you doing out this way anyhow? Girl like you? I told you to stay away from these creatures. You’re a braw thing, and they won’t bother you, one-on-one like. But you’re a wee thing, too. And I don’t care how brave you are; you’re nothing to a pack of thirsty Draug.”
As though on cue, one peered over his shoulder. It was clear he was newly transitioned, his skin less rotted, the hair on his head still full. His eyes flicked to and fro, as though he might remember something if he only tried hard enough.
Oh God.
I gasped as a nightmarish thought struck me. Soon that’d be Yasuo.
Moving faster than his age would suggest, Tom reached for his prod and zapped the thing under its chin. He shot me a look. “Keep still.”
“It’s just…I have a friend,” I said. “He’s becoming…” I couldn’t drag my eyes from the new Draug at his back.
“Your friend?” He slashed the first rope free. “Ah, you mean the Chinaman.”
“He’s Japanese,” I snapped. “Japanese American.”
“Whatever you say.” He began to saw the rope at my hip. “Don’t matter what he is. He’ll be Draug by month’s end.” At my shocked look, he clarified. “Yeah, I seen him. He’s mighty close now. They don’t usually turn so soon. Musta had a hard time of it. He’ll be coming to my side any day. You’ll be keeping your distance, if you know what’s right.”
“Don’t worry.” I couldn’t bear to get close to Yasuo. I’d had
my suspicions about his fate, but hearing it from Tom’s lips made it real.
Despite what I’d said to Rob, I
did
blame myself. If I’d figured out a way to save Emma, she’d be here now, and I had no doubt that Yasuo would be right there with her, his arm slung across her shoulders. Tears stung at the thought. “So there’s no way to help him?”
Tom glared. “Don’t go weak on me now.” He worked the other ropes free. “You know as good as I, there’s naught to be done for that boy but mourn.”
As I eased to sitting, he pulled a handkerchief from his inside coat pocket. He shoved it toward me, looking more unsettled than I’d have thought him able. “Take it.” I gave both him and the rag a skeptical look, and he simply foisted the thing into my hands. “It’s clean,” he scolded. He nodded to my belly. “You stop up that cut now, and I’ll walk you back to the path. Them Draug aren’t the only ones who’ll catch this scent. Vamps’ll come soon, sure enough. Best get yourself back in your world now and out of mine.”
I was feeling uncharacteristically fragile. I didn’t know whether it was due to my near death, the run-in with Rob, Yasuo’s fate, or the simple fact that I needed to feed, and I shoved every bit of it back into an increasingly precarious compartment in my mind. Time was short. I had questions, and I suspected Tom had answers.
As we walked back, I glanced uneasily at the Draug. They shuffled behind us, reminding me of confused sheep. “They won’t bother me?”
“Not when there’s this.” He held up his prod. “They’re beasts of habit, anyhow. This ain’t their normal feeding spot.”
I didn’t want to ask what was. Instead, I peppered Tom with questions, a steady stream of things like, “Do you know the villagers? Do they have a celebration? Is it soon? Some fire thing, right?”
He’d given vague nods to each, but at that last, he gave me a sidelong look. “You always talk this much, girl?”
“I thought you knew that already.”
He chuckled to himself. “So I do. But you have a care.” He glanced around. “This island has ears.”
“So will you answer the question?”
He waited but eventually gave a curt nod. “Aye. But that’s the last one.”
I asked it again, more specifically this time, just in case he really would answer only one more question. “Do the vampires celebrate
Up Helly Aa
?”
He gave me a baffled look. “That there’s a strange choice of question.”