The Faery Keepers (24 page)

             
Maggie is in a flurry of activity the morning of the first day of school trying to decide on her perfect outfit and what classes she'll have. It takes her at least twenty minutes to get ready and as I'm in her room waiting for her to figure everything out I point out the fact that all of these inane things are pointless in the grand scheme of things. “So? It's still fun. I mean how many first days of high school will we have?” she counters.

             
“Um, two left. And that counts today.”

             
“Exactly. So, is it so bad that I want to look my best today?”

             
I sigh, “fine, but hurry up will ya? We're going to be late.”

             
             
Eventually she decides on a light pink short sleeved blouse, a pleated knee-length jean skirt with a pair of strappy Greek looking sandals that will most likely get her in trouble with the principal. Looking down at my faded jean Capri's, Sketchers and t-shirt that is blue with a giant strawberry diagonally across the front with an animated face like on a cartoon character, I silently vote her outfit as significantly better.

             
When we get to school, the lot is already crowded with students. Both Derek and Parker offered us rides but we refused, more comfortable walking. Though I think by now Maggie is cursing our choice in those sandals.

             
“Hello ladies!” Derek pops out of
nowhere
at my elbow. “How was that walk?”

             
Maggie makes a face at him, her mouth twisted in something between a grimace and a sneer.

             
“That good, huh?” He looks at me and smiles. “Nice outfit. I especially like the fruit on your shirt.”

             
I glance at my strawberry and back up at him disbelievingly. “Thanks?”

             
“Any time,” Derek chuckles.

             
“Why do I feel like you were laughing at me rather than complimenting me?”

             
“No idea. Shall we?”

             
“Oh, you're walking us to class now?” Maggie asks, snorting and rolling her eyes.

             
“Well if you're going to be that way about it, I'll just walk with Kate.”

             
I stare at them both, wide eyed, pleading with Maggie to not leave me with him.

             
“Whatever. I'm out of here. Later, babe,” she gives me a one armed hug and is off.

             
“Bye,” I mutter miserably. “Thanks for leaving me with you-know-who,” I call after her when she's down the hallway. Several students turn and look at me and I duck my head like I haven't said a word, face flaming.

             
“Hey! I am
not
Voldemort, thank you very much,” Derek protests as we start walking down the next hall to my first period class.

             
“I beg to differ,” I grumble under my breath.

             
Later that night, after school, dinner alone, and when I can no longer hear my mom's soft snores from down the hall since she has left for work, I slip on my green Sketchers and pad downstairs.

             
Out in the backyard I find the old blanket I keep hidden behind one of the bushes for nights like this, nights when I'm feeling claustrophobic and just need to get away, and spread it out on the mercifully cool grass.

             
I lie down and stare up at the velvety black sky which is dotted with stars that sparkle like diamonds endlessly. I sometime wish that we didn't live in the city. Weren't so smothered by other
people’s
lives where they barely slow down to really appreciate the beauty around them. Maggie, on the other hand, loves it here. There's a mall within a five mile radius and plenty of people to keep her entertained.

             
The next thing I know I'm opening my eyes to the sunrise, pink on the horizon. I must have fallen asleep sometime in the night out here. The blanket is twisted around my feet and I am absolutely
covered
in insect bites. I suppose it's a good thing that I'm not allergic to anything. That I know of.

             
On our walk to school, a dark green Jeep Grand Cherokee stops beside us on the sidewalk and the passenger window whirs open.

             
I sigh. “Yes, Derek?” I ask without even glancing in his direction.

             
“Come on. You two must not like walking all the time. Get in.”

             
I continue walking, ignoring him. But when I look back, Maggie is stopped on the walk, staring between me and Derek. “Well I don't know about you and your Sketchers, but these heels don't exactly agree with my feet one hundred percent of the time, unfortunately, despite how killer they make my legs look. So I guess I'll accept your offer. Just no funny business, got it?”

             
“I swear.” Derek promises.

             
I shake my head and double back. “Fine but if anything bad happens, I'm blaming you,” I direct at Maggie.

             
“Like what?”

             
“Oh I dunno, an accident? Deafness from his loud music?”

             
“Point taken, I'll accept the blame.”

             
From then on Derek picks us up on Maple Street on the way to school and takes us home
every day
.  And I'll admit, albeit never out loud, that it's kind of nice to have a routine. I even get Derek to turn down his radio every so often. Queue shocked gasps now.





             
I'm pretty sure that I'm dreaming but the details seem so real that it's hard to believe. I don't even remember falling asleep. But there's no other way to explain the fact that I've somehow ended up back in
Ceara's
tree when I've made no conscious effort to arrive there.

             
The place is in absolute ruin. Faeries are scrambling around, screaming horrible, bloodcurdling screams that sound more animal than anything that would come out of something that resembles a, albeit it's a far stretch in some cases, human. But what they're running away from isn't absolutely clear at first. That is until there's a great burst of flames from around a corner that looks as if it is coming from a flame thrower, which is ridiculous because faeries don't   have that sort of weaponry. That I know of at least. It catches a less fortunate
Fey
in its fiery blast and she catches fire, screeching in pain as her skin burns right off her bones, her wings shrivel up like paper and the faery falls to the ground, dead. The smell of burning assaults my nose and my dream self covers her face and fights the urge to vomit. I backpedal and turn to run away from what I can now see is a group of men and women storming the corridor. The one in front holds a gun looking device that I assume the flames have come from. I don't stay there long enough but I do make out the Z shape etched onto the
man’s
face who carries the flame thrower.

             
I wake up with a start, a scream bubbling to my lips and the smell of smoke still lingers in the air.

             
It can't be. That was
not
just the man that was hunting us down when we were rescuing Miruna.

             
But no matter how much I tell myself that, I know that it's true.

             
Groggily, I feel around on my bed side table for my cell phone and open a new text message.

             
Just had a crazy dream. Can we talk? - K.

             
I press send.

             
A few seconds later it beeps with the response.

             
Yeah. Meet me @ your back door in 5.

             
I slip on my shoes and go downstairs to the door aforementioned. Just before I open it a figure appears outside the little rectangular windows and sees me. They motion for me to follow them. I shake my head and open the door wide. “You can come in, my mom's at work.”

             
“Oh.” Derek walks in.

             
“You want to sit?” I gesture to the kitchen table.

             
He shrugs and pads over to one of the chairs, looks back at me as I still stand by the doorway. I move to sit across from him.

             
“So what happened? In this dream I mean.”

             
I tell him everything.

             
When I'm done, he whistles. “Well, I can see why you'd be scared. That's intense.”

             
“I'm not
scared
. I was thinking that if this is like the last time, could this have happened? I mean, did I actually witness this?”

             
“No, I'm sure it's just a dream. The Zions have been looking for our hideouts for centuries and I doubt they've found it this time.  Probably just your mind catching up with all the things happening to you. “

             
Was he really dismissing this so quickly? “I don't believe you. What if it
did
happen? What then?”

             
“It'll be dealt with accordingly. I'm sure if they are there, the Guard has already taken them out. Did you see how many there were?”

             
“Not exactly. Maybe ten, fifteen? But, Derek, it was
him
. The one who was chasing us before. When you found us in that abandoned parking lot? He had that Z mark exactly where his was.”

             
“And that's probably just you remembering him. Kate, if I was concerned, I'd be gone already and we wouldn't be having this conversation. I think you should just go back to bed, OK?”

             
“I'm not a child.” I say more forcefully than I'd intended.

             
Derek puts his face in his hands. “Look, even if we could do something about it, you can’t go off and be Miss. Heroine. You've barely been trained in fighting yet and you'd only get yourself killed. So just cool your jets and go back to sleep.”

             
“You can't be serious.” I spurt, aghast. “You can't have come all the way over here at three A.M. just to tell me to go back to sleep and be a good little girl and eat my vegetables. Why can't we
do
something?”

             
“It's exactly this attitude that is going to get yourself slaughtered like a turkey on Thanksgiving Day.”

             
I flinch at the analogy.

             
“Sorry, I momentarily forgot about your sensitivity to animals. But what are we supposed to do?”

             
I sigh, momentarily nonplussed. “I suppose you're right. I don't know if I'm going to fall asleep though. . .”

             
He stares at me for a moment. “Why did you ask me to come, anyways? Why not Maggie?”
             

             
“As you said before, we don't have that much experience. So the first person that came to my mind was you.”

             
Derek grins at me. “You were thinking about me?”

             
I cast my eyes skyward. “Sure, whatever floats your boat.”

             
“And if you can't fall asleep, I can always tell you a story.”

             
I peer at him. “You're kidding.”

             
He shakes his head.

             
“Fine, it can't hurt.” I scrape my chair back and head back upstairs. “You coming, or what?”
             

             
“Yeah.”

             
Derek follows me to my bedroom and I kick off my Sketchers and nudge them off to the side of my door with my toe. I've never had a boy in my room and thinking about it makes me immediately
self-conscious
.

             
“So, what do you want to hear a story about?” Derek asks as I lie down on my bed and cover myself with my blankets.

             
“I don't know, you pick.”

             
He ponders for a moment. “Ok, I've got one. Close your eyes.”

             
I do as he says, feeling a little foolish.

             
“Once there was a boy who lived in a perfect little house with his parents. He had everything he wanted and a great life. His parents loved him so much, they got him anything he asked for, even a puppy one year for his birthday named Diesel that grew with him as he got older. They were his world.