The Keeper's Curse (30 page)

She
thought he would be pleased but he just looked more confused. “No,
I mean why do people call you ‘Emmy’?”

Why is he asking me this?
She was
standing outside in the cold, very eager to run home and climb into
bed. “When I was born, the plan was to nickname me ‘Evie’ but my
brother, who was just learning to talk, couldn’t make the ‘v’ sound
and started calling me ‘Emmy’. It just stuck.”

This seemed to satisfy him. “Right, then. Well
goodnight,
Emmy
.”
Then he slammed the door in her face.

There was
a certain amount of risk that Emmy’s eyes were going to be
permanently stuck in the back her head due to the excessive eye
rolling if she spent too much time with him. She pulled her hood
over her head and sprinted home, craving the warmth of her bed. Her
walk, she couldn’t help but notice, had a little skip in it, and
she wasn’t unhappy. She surprised herself when she realized that
she was, in fact, not dreading spending time with Cyrus
again.

Chapter 19

Photos

The next
week for Emmy was a very, very strange one. She was so exhausted
during the day she would often fall asleep in class, which would
prompt Jade to ask her if everything was alright. Persephone, as
expected, wasn’t speaking to her. Jade informed Emmy Persephone had
it set in her mind Emmy had chosen Breckin over her, so there was
nothing left to say.

And then
there was Cyrus. He was right to go back into the tunnels to check
for extras because there most certainly were some. They spent
several nights cleaning out the tunnels, luckily not having to kill
anyone. Unfortunately once in a while they did stumble upon a body
on the verge of death, and Emmy would have to turn away to hide her
horror from Cyrus, knowing she couldn’t help them.

She still
hadn’t found a way to thank Cyrus, and it was driving her batty.
Some of her questions had gotten legitimate replies, so she had
gotten to know him on a surface level, but any attempt to talk to
him about anything she truly wanted to know got her a sharp remark
or the cold shoulder. Still, it didn’t stop her from trying. Emmy
couldn’t help it; he was clever, sarcastic, and she couldn’t figure
out why he was so bent on helping her. And she hated not
understanding people. Unfortunately for her there was only one
person she knew who knew Cyrus, and more than a bit of a bias
resided there.

“
What was he like?” Emmy asked Breckin as they walked home
from school one day. After the disagreement over Persephone, Emmy
asked Breckin if he would walk her home every day to make sure she
was alright, an idea Breckin liked very much. Jade always tactfully
came up with an excuse as to why she couldn’t come with them,
something Emmy was thankful for. It was the only alone time Emmy
got with him. “Cyrus, when he was your brother?”

This took
him by surprise; they didn’t talk about Cyrus anymore.

“
When we were kids? Pretty much like he is now. Really
arrogant – he thought he was good at
everything
, and he loved getting a
rise out of me. Rhoan would put us in separate wings of the mansion
so we couldn’t get to each other, but he’d always come over to my
side to rile me up. Then I’d beat him up.”

An
involuntary image passed through Breckin’s mind of him pounding on
Cyrus. Breckin got caught by Rhoan, and as a punishment he was
thrown into the closet. Right before the door closed, Emmy saw a
twelve-year-old Cyrus smirk.

Dislike
for him burned through Emmy again. “He deserved the
beatings.”

“
Of course he did, and he knew I’d do it. I used to get mad
easily. I wasn’t very good at controlling myself back
then.”

Emmy,
despite her disgust of the situation, began to laugh.

“
What?”

The idea of you having self control.

The side
of his mouth curled up and he nudged her with his right
shoulder.

“
Hey, I can be
nonchalant
when I need to be,” he said, and Emmy laughed
harder. “I can! I’ve been trained by the top charm teachers in the
world.”

“
If you say so,” she chuckled as they reached The Noir
Beanery, the “OPEN” sign flashing bright yellow.

“
Hey, um, Lana?”

“
Yes?”

His
slipped his hands into his pockets and his body shrunk inwards.
“Would you like to come over to my place? To meet my uncle? I’ve
been telling him about you and he’d love to see you.”

“
Of course! Why didn’t you ask me before?”

She
jumped back to his side and continued the walk to the living
complex. He talked the whole way there about these supposed charm
teachers in intense detail when Emmy suggested he made them up. She
didn’t mind this; she loved watching him talk. His dark green eyes
brightened as if there was a light behind them and waved his arms
with such sweeping gestures they were comical.

“
He usually doesn’t talk much,” Jade had told her the other
day. “He never talks as much or as loudly as he does with you. He’s
usually so quiet.”

Emmy
liked the sound of that very much. She invested so much in him it
was nice to know that he gave a piece of himself to her too. She
could hurt him, she realized, and it would be a very easy thing to
hurt Breckin, even if she never would. She would never want to be
the one who took away that sweet smile from his face.

Security
reacted very differently to Breckin than Emmy, greeting him and
waving to him, which he returned in kind. He took her to the fourth
floor, sixth door on the left and knocked. Emmy heard shuffling
coming from inside the room, and a few minutes later a man opened
it, out of breath.

Emmy
vaguely remembered him from the experience of seeing through
Breckin’s eyes. He resembled a stereotypical “mad professor” type;
he wore a loose flannel shirt and dark trousers, and his
sandy-brown hair, peppered with silver, was sticking up in every
direction. An eye patch was wrapped around his head and covered his
left eye.

“
Hey Noah,” Breckin said, twirling a hand to his right where
Emmy stood. “This is her.” He said it with pride.

The one
eye Emmy could see widened at her. “Ah, you’re this
Lana-who-is-actually-named-Emmy he keeps talking about! Come on in,
my dear, would you like some tea?”

“
She lives at The Noir Beanery, Uncle, she’s probably sick to
death of tea.”

“
Water?”

“
Sure.”

Breckin
lead her into his home. The only other apartment Emmy had been in
so far was Persephone’s and she had begun to imagine all the
apartments looked like hers, so she was shocked. Being the Eldoir,
Emmy had expected Breckin to be given exceptional living quarters,
but he didn’t get such luck. The living room was modestly furnished
with ratty couches and a simple pine coffee table littered with
newspapers. A little fire crackled in the grate in the sitting area
Breckin led her to.

While she
waited for her beverage, she glanced around the room, noticing the
walls which were filled with photos. A lot of them had Breckin in
them, whether it was a class photo, photos with a group of friends
or with Rozelyn, or with what appeared to be important business
people. There was only one family photo, of Breckin, his mother and
his sister, but Emmy noticed his father wasn’t in it.

“
So, how come I haven’t gotten to meet you yet?” Noah asked,
handing her the drink. “Trying to get away from my nephew here? Is
he smothering you? If he is, feel free to tell him off, he smothers
me too. A bit of a worrywart, this one.”

Breckin
gurgled. “I am not smothering her!”

Emmy gave
him a sideway’s smile. “He isn’t, Mr. Crawford,” she half-lied. “He
was just too shy to ask me to come over.”

“
Ah, I see. Well, feel free to boss him around. I guess you
can do anything you want with him, eh? Only one who can. It’s a
good thing, too – he needs someone to tell him what to do since his
mother isn’t around.”

“
Noah,” Breckin warned.

“
Do you want me to show you some embarrassing pictures of
him?”

Emmy had
a feeling her and this man and she would get along swimmingly.
“Yes! I’d love to see them.”

Noah’s
face broke into a roguish grin. “Excellent. Breckin, go get your
old photo book.”

“
What? No!”

“
Do it or I’ll teach this lovely young lady how she can take
full control of your body. A Keeper can do that, you
know.”

Muttering
something inaudible, Breckin got up from beside Emmy and made his
way towards the staircase to his room. Noah craned his neck as his
nephew went up the stairs, not saying anything until he was gone,
and then he turned back to Emmy. His smile waned, but didn’t
disappear completely.

“
You’re a remarkable girl,” he said, his voice lowering. Emmy
had a suspicion it was so Breckin couldn’t hear. “You were about to
leave, but you stayed.”

She was
taken aback by the sudden change in his demeanour. She spluttered
rather ineloquently. “Well, my mother, she’s in –”

“
Prison, yes. I know you didn’t stay for him, but it was still
brave to stay. Has anything changed since you decided to stay?
Between you and him?”

Emmy
swished her water around, lowering her eyes. “I ... I really want
to stay in Methelwood. Even if my mother gets out of
prison.”

“
Do you care about him?”

Emmy felt
her face redden. “Yes.”

“
How much?”

Despite
the color of her face, she raised it to look at Noah, whose one
visible eye pierced into her. Breckin must have gotten that
unnerving gaze from him, Emmy thought.

“
I’m asking because I want you to know what you’re getting
into,” he said. He leaned closer to her from the opposite couch. He
pointed to his eye patch. “This is what happens when you’re in his
life. One of Thoreoux’s assassins did it, coming to kill him before
they knew he couldn’t be killed. It was maybe a month after I
adopted him.”

She felt
like a coward, but the fear came anyway. A fire danced in her
stomach, making her want to get up and run away, just like the day
she found out she was his Keeper.

“
I’m not saying I don’t love him,” Noah went on. “My brother
might be scum for leaving him, but I’m willing to risk my life for
his wellbeing. I’m glad you’re getting to know him now instead of
when I first took him in; he was so scared and so damaged it took
all my patience to get him to where he is now. He needs a father.
But you’re just a girl. As much as I care about him, I can’t not
tell you what comes along with being in his life. People
don’t
want
an
Eldoir. There will always be someone trying to kill him – to kill
you.”

This was
not what Emmy expected the conversation to be like when she came
over. She had just wanted to meet Breckin’s guardian, and here he
was, making her question her decision all over again. She thought
again about running away and what would happen. She would have to
leave the Woodworkers, Persephone, her new friends, Breckin and –
she surprised herself for thinking of this – she would betray
Cyrus. Her mother would be put on trial, and she would be
vulnerable, always on the run.

“
It’s safer here,” she finally said. “I’m surrounded by the
only people in the orbs that’ll protect me. Whether I like it or
not, Breckin is my responsibility.” She paused. “But it’s not a
burden, really. I’m not friends with him only out of
obligation.”

Noah
examined her for a moment, took it in, and then sat back in his
seat looking satisfied. “I had a feeling you’d be like that. He’s
lucky you’re his girl.”

Emmy
couldn’t help herself beaming. His girl.

They
chatted a few more minutes before Breckin came downstairs, holding
an old tattered photo album, looking petulant. They spent the next
twenty minutes flipping through the photo album which Emmy got many
laughs out of. Breckin was very recognizable, his child face not
changing much, and he always seemed to be with a round-faced girl
in brown pigtails which turned out to be his little sister, Becca.
Breckin would say her name like his voice was embracing it the way
one would embrace a baby, similarly to the way he said Emmy’s
name.

Unlike a
traditional album where people got older, Noah seemed to order it
in the reverse; the people in the photos seemed to get younger and
younger, until they were not looking at pictures of Breckin and
Becca anymore, but of his parents. His dark haired mother – Clara –
was beautiful. Emmy could see Breckin got his fine bone structure
and slenderness from her. His coloring he got from his father, with
his red hair, green eyes and translucent skin. For everyone’s sake,
Emmy only focused on the similarities to his mother.

They kept
going backwards, until Clara was a teenager. She was quite the
athlete, with aspirations of being on a professional rugby team.
She had loads of friends, faces Emmy didn’t recognize, when she
suddenly saw a familiar pair of blue eyes staring back at her. Emmy
sucked in a breath.