The Water Queens (Keeper of the Water) (37 page)

We don’t take a step on our porch when I sense something isn’t quite right, isn’t the way we left it. I’ve only had this feeling one other time so I know not to ignore my instincts. I hold Janey’s hand but say nothing to worry her. When we walk inside our small house, I make sure to keep her shielded as I look around. She heads for the TV so I discreetly check the rest of the rooms, finding nobody inside and nothing disturbed.

Silence is broken by the sound of a British commentator. Few villagers own TVs and it’s not hard to imagine why. When I was a teenager more than ten years ago, I used to have dozens of channels to choose from. But only five TV stations reach Andros and three of them are incredibly fuzzy. Only one is broadcast in English, though luckily it’s a channel that shows the Olympics.

“After this quick news break, we will return to track and field, where the biggest story of these Games continues to play out to the delight of the host nation,” the announcer says.

Janey curls up on the end of the couch, waiting for coverage of the Olympics to come back on.

“Did you know that the first Olympics happened right here in Greece?” I ask her.

I tell myself I’m trying to keep her preoccupied but I’m only doing that to myself. The thought of one particular person comes to mind; after all, I never
saw
his end and he
did
surprise me several other times by surviving when I didn’t think it possible. I shake my head, telling myself it can’t be possible, not after all this time.

“Of course,” Janey says, yawning. “I think everybody at the dance tonight told me about the first Olympics.”

On screen, the commercials end but a late-night news break is shown instead. I barely pay attention to the stories. But the picture of Cassie that suddenly appears on TV makes my blood turn cold. I quickly scan the house again, as if the feeling I had earlier could somehow be related to seeing her face. But the news anchor merely states how today is the five-year anniversary of the terrorist attack that destroyed the ancient Generalife palace and killed the ‘beloved’ Queen Isabella less than an hour into her ill-fated reign.

“And while the country of Spain still mourns the loss of their fallen queen and wonders what could’ve been from her time in charge, we in the journalistic world would like to remember another tragedy that happened in the south of Spain at that time. We lost one of our own that fateful night, a star in our field that burned out brightly. Ashley Lutz was responsible for covering – and
un
covering – many stories, most famously discovering the location of the Lost City of Z. She disappeared on the night of Queen Isabella’s assassination and many still wonder if she was on the path to locating the three royal killers. She may have been the final casualty of those who tried to eliminate the Spanish royalty. Her death is a mystery that may never be solved but Ashley was a colleague known worldwide who hasn’t been forgotten.

“Our next news break will be at the top of the hour but for now, we send it back to the Olympic studios for highlights of today’s incredible action.”

To this day, it still irks me that Cassie’s ‘killers’ are not only vilified – even though Harriet, Amelia, John and I saved the world from a dictator unlike any in history – but we’re also blamed for Ashley’s disappearance. But I’m glad Harriet found her and has at least one strong ally to help rebuild the Amazons.

It’s the middle of the night in Spain so when Olympic coverage returns, the footage isn’t live. A quick montage is shown from what’s happened at the Games thus far, starting with the unprecedented decision by the International Olympic Committee to switch host cities and award the Games to Madrid in an effort to assist a nation suffering so many losses. The decision was already yielding big dividends for not only Spain as a nation but also the new Spanish royalty. King Cristobal – a cousin of Cristiano – had become the face of the Games, lighting the Olympic torch and attending events every night. And while Spain’s resurgence was originally expected to be the high point of these Games, it didn’t take long for
another
story to be thrust into the spotlight.

It’s tough not to focus all my attention on the television. Janey and I have been watching the Olympics every night so we already know most of what they’re saying but I’m still just as interested as I’ve been every other night. Though I keep one eye on the TV, I turn the other to our windows, trying not to seem so obvious that I’m on the lookout for something.

Or some
one
.

“Another night of track and field, another night of dominance by the
Orphaned
Ocho
, who continue to electrify home crowds and thrill the world,” the announcer says. “Although the United States, China and Russia built a large lead in the medal count early on, the
Orphaned Ocho’s
current winning streak has the host nation of Spain shooting up the leaderboard. And if style accounted for success, Spain would be
far
ahead. After record-breaking performances in everything from archery to the high jump, members of the Ocho took aim on running tonight, sweeping the medals in the 100-meter, 200 and 400, shattering world records in some events by several seconds.

“But the second day of the heptathlon – much like the first day – belonged to Liliana Ustino. Dubbed the
Big Sister
by other members of the
Orphaned Ocho
, Ustino became the first heptathlete – woman
or
man – to win all seven events in an Olympic Heptathlon. As impressive as that was, even more incredible was the way she broke so many world records along the way, some records set by her orphaned sisters only a few hours earlier in the day. Her most memorable performance came in today’s javelin event.”

Video is shown of the teenage girl absolutely launching the javelin, which flew beyond the boundaries set within the stadium’s large field. Though Liliana looks older than the last time I saw her, she still wears the same stoic expression as when she caught up to me in the forest beyond Generalife. I smile when I think of the way she told Harriet and me that we’d be hearing from her again one day. Since the
Orphaned Ocho
burst onto the scene, I tried recalling all the girls I once saw guarding Alhambra. I recognized many of them competing in the Olympics but I’m pretty sure there were more than just eight of them.

Once the highlights of Liliana atop the medal podium end, the
Orphaned Ocho’s
story is shown. The group of girls famously taken under Queen Isabella’s ‘generous’ wing before her untimely death were embraced by the nation from the moment they emerged from the Granada forest, amazingly still alive following the terrorist attack on Generalife. Though the queen was dead, the Spanish government – as well as King Cristobal – made sure they were properly cared for. When it was discovered that the girls showed superior athleticism at a young age, they were given access to Spain’s top athletic facilities. Madrid was awarded the Games and the
Orphaned Ocho
became the darlings of the country. Everyone assumed that their background and young age would make them an interesting story at best;
nobody
expected them to triumph at such an astounding level. But they were quickly becoming an inspiration to their nation, their growth in prominence mirroring Spain as a whole, the girls and their country both overcoming many difficult times to earn success.

“And though Ustino and other girls of the Ocho were more than happy to win gold for their country, Queen Isabella and sports were the last things she wanted to talk about following her record-setting performance.”

The screen changes to a reporter interviewing Liliana, still clad in her red and yellow tracksuit, gold medal around her neck, the flag of Spain draped heroically across her shoulders. But her expression remains serious, her eyes wise beyond their years; nowhere is the smile of overwhelming joy and relief worn by most gold medal winners.

“This opportunity never would’ve happened for us had we not been saved from a life of poverty, a life of danger spent living on the streets,” Liliana tells the reporter, who seems much more interested in talking about sports than social issues. But Liliana isn’t deterred and even makes sure the man doesn’t pull away the microphone. “I was one of a very lucky few given this chance for a normal life. Though I may have been saved by a queen, my life would’ve been just as improved had a teacher or a nurse or a construction worker taken me in. Orphanages in Spain – and many other countries across the globe – are woefully under-funded so I urge everyone watching to donate money or time or a home to these needy children. I’d happily trade my gold medal if it meant just one more girl or boy didn’t have to spend another night sleeping on a park bench or in an alley.”

When the interview ends, the broadcast switches to another commercial break. I’m about to tell Janey to head off to bed but I see she’s already gotten a headstart. Her eyes are closed and her breathing is slow and steady. She looks so peaceful; I hope she always stays this way though I’m afraid that whatever’s outside will prevent that peace from staying in her life. I consider picking her up and taking her to bed but she looks comfortable. Instead, I quietly sneak to the front door and step outside.

Once on the porch, I take a glance farther up the mountain but it’s not the water spring I’m trying to see. My desire to visit the former source of special water is not as strong as it once was. I’ve worked hard to deny my carnal urges if only to make sure Janey stays away from it; the last thing I want is her interfering with the water and making things difficult for Harriet and other new Amazons, wherever they might be.

In less than a minute, I see the faint outline of someone approaching from the direction of the water. My heart pounds with anticipation; a longing wells inside of me that I haven’t felt for years, that I never thought I’d feel again. It takes everything in my power to stop from running up the mountain. The person approaching moves quickly and without making a noise, not trying to hide in the night. But she finally steps onto the porch and stares at me with wonder; I stare back and try to hide my bitter disappointment.

She looks a lot younger than the last time we were together, which is ironic since I look about a decade older. But even in the light from the moon, I see that her makeup is applied perfectly and she doesn’t have a single hair out of place. It’s quite an unusual appearance for an Amazon; even Cassie and the prissy queens who’d been in the tribe with me had a much more rustic look.

“Still not used to there being no cameras around?” I ask.

Ashley Lutz smiles, not the fake on-camera one either.

“I have
you
to thank for that,” she says. “I heard you put in quite the recommendation.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d join the Amazons or try to do a story on Harriet and the water,” I say.

“At first I was tempted,” she admits. “Do you know the journalistic awards I could’ve won had I exposed the biggest story this world has ever known? Famous women of history faking their own deaths to protect Mother Earth’s life force, magical water that gives its drinker more speed and strength than any Hollywood superhero could possibly imagine.”

She shakes her head, apparently still in disbelief five years after faking
her
own disappearance.

“Sounds like you’re
still
considering doing that story,” I say, only half-joking.

“They
would
have to hand the Pulitzer right over to me,” she says. “But all the accolades in the world couldn’t take the place of being able to turn twenty years old again.”

We share a chuckle but I doubt Ashley came all the way to this remote Greek island to trade jokes. When I ask the reason for her visit, the smile fades from her face.

“The Keeper sends her regards and wishes she could’ve come to see you herself,” Ashley tells me.

“I’m glad Harriet didn’t,” I say, though I quickly realize how harsh that sounds. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to see my recruit again but a Keeper should never travel with the water unless it’s a last resort. I’m relieved she stayed with the water, wherever that might be.”

“Well, she’s authorized me to tell you anything you want: where the water’s being kept, how many new Amazons we’ve recruited, everything that’s happened to us since leaving Granada,” she says. “All you have to do is tell me what you want to know.”

I’ve sat on this porch nearly every night since returning to Andros. The only thing I’ve thought about as much as John was what happened to Harriet and the water. I was confident enough that my recruit would succeed in restarting the traditional ways of the Amazons but I always wondered where she ended up and whom she got to go with her. When I first saw the story of Ashley’s disappearance, I figured Harriet took my suggestion but I’ve since been on the lookout for news of any celebrity or famous woman dying under suspicious or mysterious conditions. With technology so vastly improved, faking one’s death would be far trickier now than it had been hundreds of years ago.

But now I’m not so sure whether I
should
know.

“I’m no longer an Amazon,” I tell Ashley. “As curious as I am – and probably will be until the day I die – an outsider should not be privy to that information.”