The Keeper's Curse (11 page)

“
I fell,” Emmy said. She turned to look at him and when she
saw his face, tried not to gasp. A red gash extended from the left
side of his forehead to the right side of his chin. Despite the
ugly scratch, the boy seemed completely unfazed, and seemed rather
bored at having to sit and wait for attendance. He noticed her
staring.

“
Nasty buggers, aren’t they?” he said. “I’ve never seen a bird
act like that. I’m going to have the vermin exterminated from this
damn orb.”

Emmy
wanted to point out that birds weren’t vermin, but she figured that
was the least helpful thing to say. “Does it hurt?”

“
Of course it -” he sighed, calming himself. “It’s not too
bad. I’m not going to acquire a lifelong fear of ravens or
anything.”

Her ears
perked up. “A raven? You said a raven attacked you?”

“
Yes,” he said, adjusting himself into a more comfortable
position in the bed.

“
Was it a silver one? With weird glowing eyes?”

“
Maybe. What’s it to you?”

How was
she supposed to explain to him what she meant? That a bird had been
stalking her since she had arrived in Methelwood? Apprehension
bubbled in her; if it was the same bird, and it attacked this boy,
did that mean it was dangerous and had the intention of causing her
harm?

She
thought too long on the matter. A different nurse bustled through,
handing the boy a vial of a thick, puce liquid.

“
Here you go, dear,” the nurse said. “I’m still not entirely
sure why you asked for a room when this was all you
needed.”

He threw
his long legs over the side of the bed and jumped down, adjusting
his jacket. “I didn’t want to wait in those plastic chairs you
have.” He headed towards the exit, only to stop in the doorway. He
turned around, staring at Emmy intently with gray eyes. “My name is
Cyrus, by the way. Cyrus Crow.”

“
Emmy Rathers,” she replied.

He
smiled, charming and superficial. “I’ll see you soon,” he said, and
turned the corner.

She
closed her eyes and leaned back on the pillow, trying to forget why
she was here. She knew Vera and Sol would find about this, which by
extension would mean Jade would find out, and then Alex. She was
already humiliated enough; the last thing she wanted was the
inevitable fretting that would occur.

A few
minutes later a young handsome doctor in a long black robe walked
through the door with a clipboard, along with the rough-faced nurse
and Teddy.

“
My name is Dr. Stockwell,” he said, wasting no time. He
jerked her head back in order to examine her bleeding forehead.
“But you can call me Milo.”

Just as
she had feared, he asked her what had happened. She and Teddy
locked eyes for half a second and she proceeded to tell a white lie
saying Teddy had taken her flying and had looked away for moment.
Milo seemed to accept this answer, moving on to administer a
painkiller, put a cast on her broken arm, and bandage her scrapes.
Thankfully she didn’t have a concussion.

Teddy
offered to take her home, which she accepted, trying not to grimace
at the idea of bouncing around on a saddle again.

When she
finally arrived back at The Noir Beanery, she was thrown into the
exact situation she had been dreading. Vera had tea and pastries
waiting for her when she walked into the living room, guiding her
in like it was her leg that broke instead of her arm. Even Gabe
asked her if she was alright.

The real
tirade, however, came when Jade was off for her fifteen minute
break and bombarded her with the very questions she didn’t want to
answer.

“
Rozelyn came by after school and told me what happened!” she
exclaimed, sitting down in the seat across from her at the dinner
table. She buried her face in her hands dramatically. “I never
should have let you go out there with that idiot. I knew better.
You could have died.”

Emmy took
a sip of her tea to avoid answering. Inevitably, she swallowed and
could only respond with, “It wasn’t exactly Teddy’s fault. I ...
got distracted by a ... pretty bird.”

“
It was
all
Teddy’s fault. She said Breckin offered to take you to the
hospital. You should have said yes.”

She felt
something dark form in the pit of her stomach.
“Breckin?”

Jade took
a gulp of her drink. “Yeah. Rozelyn said the two of them were out
flying when you crashed into her.”

Emmy
irrationally felt a pang of annoyance towards Jade for piquing her
curiosity as well as never telling her about these people
before.

“
She said you were her cousin. Is the boy your cousin
too?”

Jade
chuckled. “No. But Breckin and Rozelyn have been together for over
two years now, and since Rozelyn and I are pretty close, I’ve sort
of become friends with him too. Plus, he’s Gabe’s best
friend.”

Emmy
choked on her tea, scalding the front of her chest. Wonderful. As
if she hadn’t already had her share of pain for the day. She took
another swig of her drink as an attempt to obliterate the rising
cloud of despair in her gut. Both Gabe and Jade, the people she
lived with, knew him. She would have to deal with him again. On top
of that, she couldn’t even explain to Jade what had happened
because it would seem like she was running down her
friend.

Emmy rose
from her chair. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“
It’s seven thirty.”

“
I’m tired,” she said a little too curtly. She turned away
from Jade’s bewildered face and slumped her way to the attic,
throwing herself in bed, burying her face in the pillow. Just over
a week ago she had found out she was a freak, and on top of that,
now she was a freak among freaks.

She
thought back to what Willow had told her just that afternoon, that
she believed the voice she was hearing now and the one she had
heard when she was eleven were connected, and less than an hour
later the theory was completely demolished. The boy – Breckin –
seemed to only start talking in her head whenever she was near him;
the three times she had heard him were at or near Urquhart.
Obviously the voice she had heard when she had been eleven couldn’t
have been his since she had been in the real world.

She
rolled over and groaned. Somehow, she needed to retrieve that dream
journal, assuming it hadn’t already been destroyed or taken away.
It was unlikely it would give her any answers at all, but she
needed to focus her attention on some way to fix this. Building a
life in this strange land was difficult enough without having
people thinking you were crazy.

Chapter 8

Encounter

Breckin
knew it probably wasn’t appropriate to be in complete boredom while
deadly weapons were being thrown at him from all angles, but he was
anyway. His perfect senses detected every object whizzing his way;
having fun thwarting Oka’s attempts with his fancy moves. He jumped
off the ground, away from an oncoming sword, flying several feet in
the air, while performing a triple back flip with the grace and
deftness of an acrobat. Velvet drapes had shut out any light from
the windows, but Breckin’s vision was so spectacular this didn’t
pose much more of a challenge.

In the corner of the circular room he saw Rozelyn pretending
to read her copy of
Macbeth
, her bushy hair peeking up
from behind the covers, but he saw a smile inching up the sides of
her mouth.

Before he
knew it the session ended, and after half an hour of jumping,
twirling and running, he had barely even broken a sweat. Oka
clapped, and the drapes pulled back into their corners, casting
polygonal light all across the floor.

Breckin
glanced over at his surly but brilliant mentor, hoping for a sign
on his face declaring how impressed he was with his performance.
Instead Oka simply looked irritated.

“
What?” Breckin said. “Did I do something wrong?”

“
No, that’s the problem,” Oka said. “You’ve gotten to the
point where these exercises are useless to you. You’re becoming
cocky.”

Over to
the side, Breckin heard Rozelyn chuckle softly behind her book.
“What do you mean?”

“
I would prefer if your girlfriend didn’t watch us anymore,”
Oka said, narrowing his eyes in her direction. “You’re showing off
on purpose for her, and I don’t like it.”

“
He’s fine, Oka,” Rozelyn said, scribbling in the corner of
her page. “If anything, because he’s showing off, he’s performing
even more complicated moves than he normally does.”

“
It’s not about complexity, it’s about
brevity
,” Oka said, enunciating the
last word like she was deaf. “Getting to the point. I think the
lady doth protest too much.”

Rozelyn looked at the front of her book, back at Oka, and
rolled her eyes. “That’s from
Hamlet
, Oka. Nice try.”

“
Whatever. All those plays are the same. Misunderstandings.
Pointless love triangles. Gratuitous deaths. Just sex and violence
all around, really. I’d rather hear about
brevity.
”

Rozelyn beamed. “‘Brevity is the soul of wit.’
Hamlet
again.”

“
I’m going to kill her, Crawford.”

Breckin
smiled to himself, putting his equipment into his bag. He secretly
knew Rozelyn and Oka both thought literature was useless, but if
there was anything Rozelyn found more annoying than books, it was
Oka.

“
Anyway
Crawford, I’m getting rather
tired of your superfluous antics.”

Breckin
snorted. “‘Superfluous’? With all due respect sir, you threw a mace
at me.”

He may
have gotten another laugh out of Rozelyn, but Oka was not amused.
“Good job, Crawford. You’re now going to run a lap around
Methelwood after class.” He turned on his heel and headed towards
the exit, his cobalt-blue robe fluttering at the hem. At the gilded
doorway, he stopped without turning around. “I’ll prepare some new
activities for you by Monday.”

“
Of course sir,” Breckin said, just as Oka exited the room,
his long, black braid swaying back and forth behind him.

Behind him, Rozelyn slammed her book shut with a
clap
. Her coquettish
expression was directed right at him, making something jump in his
stomach.

“
He’s right, you know,” she said, walking over to him. “You
really are too good now to be let into the regular peacekeeping
classes. It’s not fair to everyone else.”

“
What, you mean not fair to
you
?” he said, grinning.

She was
glowering but smiling at the same time. “That’s not the point!” She
looped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her. “You’re
getting all stir crazy. You need a real challenge, something
that’ll make you squirm. Something that’s a real
workout.”

Instead
of answering her, he dropped his bag, put his hands around her
waist, and picked her up off the ground, twirling her and making
her squeal. Without putting her down, he lifted his face to hers
and kissed her, something she responded warmly to. He both felt and
heard her heart beating in her little body, which had always been
more effective at working him up than any training Oka had ever
given him. Just as she began curling her fingers into his hair he
heard a loud throat-clearing noise coming from the end of the room,
and they jumped away from each other.

Breckin
jerked his head to where the noise had come from, looking at the
doorway expecting Oka to chide him. It was definitely not
Oka.

“
I could challenge him,” the person said.

Breckin
inched toward the door to get a clearer view of the silhouette.
There was something hauntingly familiar about that voice, like
something he had heard out of an unpleasant dream. He inched closer
still, until he could see his face.

“
Don’t you recognize me, Golden Boy?”

Breckin’s
eyes widened in horror. No. It couldn’t be. But it was.

He could
see the similarities now, but it was odd seeing him as a
sixteen-year-old like himself, when the last time he had seen him
he had been twelve. He was tall now, over six feet, and his face
had become angular, with shadows under his eyes which were still
that same dark gray color they had always been. His demeanour was
even more arrogant and self-assured than it had been four years
ago, jet-black hair framing his condescending
expression.

Breckin
choked out the name. “Cyrus?”

He heard a gasp from behind him. Rozelyn. “You mean,
Cyrus
–Cyrus?”

Cyrus
turned his attention to her, raising an eyebrow. “He’s told you
about me?”

Rozelyn shot daggers at him with her eyes. “He told me
everything
about you.
What the hell are you doing here?”

Breckin slipped his fingers into Rozelyn’s, to keep her from
moving forward and attacking him. “Don’t talk to her. And I want to
know too. Why are you here?
How
did you get here?”