Keeper of Reign by Emma Right (classic fiction .txt) 📖

Chapter Excerpts

Keeper of Reign

Emma Right

 

Chapter Excerpts

 

13 - WHISPERER

MIRANDA PULLED HER arm free from Saul’s grip. “Why do you enjoy humiliating me?”

“Why do you insist on leaving the house without my permission?” Saul paced his breathing and placed a hand to his chest.

“I’m not a piece of furniture you can set in the corner and expect to stay put.”

“I will not let history repeat itself. You know our situation. We must take extra precautions.”

“You must take extra precaution. Me? I have a nor-mal life.”

“There’s nothing normal about what you’re doing, Miranda.” Saul’s eyes locked with his granddaughter’s. Blue like the seamless sky. How similar her eyes were to Chrystle’s. It was as if his daughter had returned, been brought back to life, after all these years.

“What—what are you talking about?” Miranda stumbled over her words.

But Saul just turned and walked away, his head bowed low, shoulders drooped.

“Grandpa! Wait.” Miranda kept pace with Saul’s brisk steps. “You think Mrs. Blaze is at the Laceworks’?” She wrung her hands and looked at the branches.

“If she wasn’t captured.”

“We have to get there quickly.”

“Why so nervous?” When Saul looked up he reached out, grabbed Miranda’s arm again, and yanked her into the undergrowth.

 

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Before them, hidden in a swirl of gray smoke, a white face materialized. Eyes of blue fire and twisted lips contorted into a smile. The being floated stirring the fallen leaves just an arm’s length away from their hiding spot. The smoke drifted to where Saul had stood seconds ago and then wove its way in and out of the leaves and twigs in front of the briar rose where Saul and Miranda hid, as if teasing them to come out. Whispers swished through the foliage all around them.

Sweat dripped from Saul’s temple but he didn’t wipe at it. He stood still, his grip on Miranda firm as they watched Whisperer.

“Beta?” Whisperer whispered.

Can he smell Elfies, too? Saul never asked Whisperer before.

 

14 - GEHZUROLLE’S AGENTS

RALSTON HURRIED TOWARD Jules as they trudged the familiar pebbled path to the Laceworks’ home. Despite the stars above, the grassy terrain below was pitch. A soft wind rippled the long grasses that towered over the tall Jules in some parts. Even with the lanterns the night seemed to rule. Their lantern glowed faintly between the swaying blades.

Ralston said, “How’d Gehzurolle even know we’re Keepers? We were always so careful not to tell anyone.”

Jules looked over his shoulders. “Gehzurolle’s not supposed to be omniscient, but his spies lurk everywhere.”

“You mean the Scorpents?”

Jules lowered his voice. “Not just. Could be Handoverans, or Elfies who’ve been bought with a price. Then there’re three others. One looks like a red flame and his name is Rage. It‘s hard to notice him, especially during a fire, although some have seen him and lived!”

“So, he’s in charge of fire?”

“Rage lives up to his name. He’s in charge of anger. That’s what Grandpa said.”

“Who else?”

“Another resembles smoke: name is Whisperer. He whispers things in the air to influence people or the weather or such. He gives them suggestions. And the third is Sekt: he’s rumored to roam in fogs and mists, but he hides well and not much is known of him. Gehzurolle’ll do anything to make trouble for us. He can even manipulate birds for his end.”

“Birds?” Ralston made a face.

“Not all kinds. Prey birds. That’s why I think Gehzurolle’s involved. Our raven attack seemed too coincidental, especially with this.” He swept his arm about. “Did you hear anything last night?”

“Besides your snoring?”

“I saw a bright flash across the sky last night,” Jules said. “At first I thought it was lightning, but then in the distance a glare brightened the night and the ground trembled.”

“A bomb in the forest? Maybe the war’s coming closer?”

Bitha came up from behind and said, “I hope Dad’s okay.”

“Maybe the glare came from an explosion.” Jules hastened his steps, eyes skimming the thick branches above.

The trail brought them to the edge of a clearing leading to another moss-covered house under two twisted roots of a redwood, the home of Cori Lacework, his wife of eighteen years, Jessie, and their son, sixteen-year- old Holden.

“What do we tell Mrs. L?” Ralston said.

Jules shrugged. “Saul should be there and might have told her. We shouldn’t scare her.”

“What if,” Ralston asked, “the burglars attacked the Laceworks, too?”

So many questions! Jules scanned the boughs above. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

 

15 - LACEWORKS’S HOME

 

WHEN THEY NEARED the Lacework home, Fiesty tugged at his leash as if unwilling to get any closer. Bitha nudge Jules. “Fiesty’s acting weird again.”

Tst Tst, struggling behind with the dragonfly, cast a worried glance at Jules.

“Let him go,” Jules said.

Tst Tst released the blue ribbon, and Fiesty whizzed higher and higher up to the boughs. The children looked at each other, shrugged, and hurried toward the Lacework door.

 

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For a second the shadow following them determined to strike Jules and his siblings again, but he stopped. They thought they were invincible with the dragonfly lantern, but direct attack wasn’t the only way to exterminate Elfies. Whisperer should know. He’d been perfecting the art through the ages. The proper time would come. It always did.

He pursed his lips upward toward the clouds, first softly, then more intensely, his gaze never wavering from the siblings. His master had given him authority over the elements of the air. He could use it to his advantage, but this time he would use something that had worked before.

Beta had told him about the Laceworks, and it was a perfect plan, assuming Beta’s trick had convinced the boy and his siblings to get inside. And once the Blaze kids were gone, he could finish his task and search the wreck left behind by the fire.

It should be on one of them.

Whisperer flew from the cypress he was perched upon, and several more pinecones dropped from the redwood tree.

 

16 – BEWARE

 

THE LACEWORK HOME stood under the niche of the tallest redwood in that part of the woods. The redwood poked above the rest in the canopy of green rivaling even some of the oldest spruces there.

“Look.” Ralston pointed to a shred of green fabric on a branch, obviously torn by some brambles near a boulder.

“Someone was in a hurry.” Jules picked the fabric and examined it.

“Looks like Holden’s cloak.”

Ralston parted the brambles and slipped, cutting his hand as he righted himself. “There’s a hole here in the ground.”

“Stay away. Could be a gopher home. You don’t want to end up being gopher food next.”

Standing on the Lacework’s front porch, a savory fragrance, maybe potato soup, wafted toward them. Which was an odd coincidence, Jules thought.

His stomach rumbled and he was about to knock on the door when Tippy let out one of her infamous shrieks. He turned and there she stood, tangled in Fiesty’s blue ribbon as she and the dragonfly struggled to detangle themselves. Tst Tst and Bitha, in helping, only made things worse, so Jules strode over.

“Here, take my lantern,” he instructed Bitha, who already had her hands full, what with their pillow-cased belongings.

Tst Tst was handling the other one. “Maybe Mrs. L has a pair of scissors to cut her loose.”

Jules motioned for Bitha to place her lantern over Tippy’s head. “Here’s the problem—pass me your stone and squeeze your palm inward really tight.” To free his hand he pocketed her stone. “Now, pass your hand through here.” Finally he freed her and pocketed the ribbon. “It could’ve strangled you.”

He strode to the door again but a roar above stopped him from knocking. Thunder? He hadn’t noticed the lightning due to the canopy. Was this like the solitary flash last night, a single warning of a pending storm?

The hair on Jules’s arms stood on ends. Static electricity. “Back away!” He pushed Ralston back and grabbed Tst Tst and Tippy’s arms. “Quick! The boulder!”

Bitha and Ralston scrambled after him and dove under a groove beneath the boulder. The brambles cut their arms and legs and tore parts of their cloaks.

The crack shattered the night’s quiet and sounded close. Jules had never heard thunder that close. But it was nothing compared to the explosion that turned the Lacework home and the redwood it was under into an inferno. Flames consumed the tree as if someone had doused the wood with alcohol. Even from behind the boulder the heat from the fire turned their faces red and the smell of singed shrubbery and smoke made their eyes tear.

“Get away,” Jules shouted amidst the roar of the fire. He pushed them farther behind the boulder and they all fell into the gopher hole Ralston almost slipped into earlier. “Go, go!”

He shoved the girls in front of him deeper into the hole and pulled Ralston who was coughing and sputtering behind him.

“My eyes!” Ralston cried. “Help! I can’t see. I’m blind!”

 

17 –UNKNOWN

 

JULES SLID UNCONTROLLABLY, deeper and deeper down the tunnel, gripping Tippy in one arm. He hoped the others were close behind him but he wasn’t sure. It was dark and he was falling too fast. Screams from Bitha and Tst Tst echoed around him. Were they okay? Mustn’t let go of the lantern, he reminded himself.

The bottom eventually came. Ralston smashed into Jules’s back, somersaulted and landed with a thump into the side of the burrow, followed by Bitha and Tst Tst. Puffs of dust clouded the air and everyone choked and spluttered. Between hackings Jules said, “Stay put. Let the dust settle. Here, drink water.” He passed Ralston a water pouch.

“I still can’t see.”

“Stop fidgeting and just blink,” Jules said.

The burrow they stood in was large and, even though the air seemed cool, Jules didn’t think they could stay down there indefinitely. Especially if gophers lived nearby.

“We need to stay alert,” he said once everyone had calmed down. Tippy and Tst Tst looked dazed and drowsy beside him.

Ralston peered into one of the tunnels leading out of the burrow. The lantern high above his head lighted their dismal paths ahead. “There’re too many ways branching out. Which one should we take?”

“One away from that fire.”

Tst Tst and Tippy sobbed loudly. Jules felt like biting his tongue but he, himself, had to gulp down a sob. Were his mother and the Laceworks in there? He never liked Holden, but still, he felt bad for him. And what about Saul, and Miranda? He blinked at the shaft they’d just dropped from. Smoke drifted down in puffs from that shaft, as well as from some of the other tunnels next to it. He hoped the air was breathable. What if there were toxic fumes underground?

He brought a lantern close to the page in his grandpa’s journal and studied the address and directions to Mosche Falstaff’s home. “Mr. Mosche’s home isn’t too far from here—in fact, it’s located by the river, about a mile from Saul’s. We can go to Mosche’s and ask him for help.”

“What if he’s not there?” Ralston said.

“Hand me the pillowcase. We need a compass.”

Ralston took the journal and traced the route in the tiny map below the address with his finger. “But why don’t we just look for Dad?”

Jules said, “Dad could be anywhere along the River front.”

Bitha said, “But what about Mom? She might return to the house, and find us missing. Then what? We didn’t even leave her a note.”

“And let the Scorpents know where we are if they returned?” Jules sat on his haunches and wrapped his fingers around his temple.

“Do you think Mom was in the house with Mrs. L and Holden?” Ralston’s voice shook.

Jules dared not think.

Tst Tst said, “And Fiesty? You think he’s okay?”

Fiesty had flown up to the trees. Had he been caught in the fire? Would they never see him again?

 

 

Emma Right is a happy wife and homeschool mother of five living in the Pacific West Coast of the USA. Besides running a busy home, and looking after