The Marked Son (Keepers of Life) (11 page)

He cranes his neck. “Where?”

His low voice booms over the muted sounds of the forest. I hiss at him to be quiet, but when I look again, the cluster of pinprick lights is gone. I shake my head. “Over there,” I whisper. “I saw something.”

“Let’s check it out.” When we get to the spot, Leo shines the light up the tree. “I can’t tell, but I think something’s up there.”

With one flick of his thumb, the light whitens and shines on the twitching, dangling hooves of the ewe stuffed halfway up the tree.

“Bro,” Leo says in a voice rattling with awe. “Sheep fly. No one’s going to believe this.”

“
I
don’t believe it,” I mutter. “We can’t tell anyone. They’ll think we’re nuts.”

Staring up at the ewe’s lolling head and twitching legs, I shake my head. We’ll have to climb halfway up the tree to get it, and seeing as how Leo’s still gawking at the ewe, I’m the climber. I place my hand on the tree and the bark quivers beneath my fingers. I jerk away and look at my hand. I flex each finger into a rolling grip, then spring them open again. What’s wrong with me?

The flashlight is shoved into my hand, and the cold feel of plastic erases the tingling from the bark. Leo pushes me to the side.

“Hang on, little mama.” He grabs hold of the nearest limb and starts to climb. “Daddy’s coming to get you.”

“Seriously, dude,” I mutter under my breath, “you need to get a girl.”

§

Shelley, who’d been content to lie quietly in Leo’s arms, begins kicking when we reach the meadow. She lets out a weak bleating noise, and the flock stirs. Reggie and Pop are there, urging the sheep awake and onto their feet for an inspection. Only a few still struggle to rise. I can only hope this means Grandpa will be fine.

“You found her!” Reggie shouts as he lets an ewe go and readjusts his glasses. “The boss will be glad to hear it.”

“See?” Leo says with a big grin. “Your grandpa’s fine. Everything is as sweet as candy. Cool as ice. No worries at all.”

Pop frowns, signs something to Leo, but Leo waves him off. “Pop wants us to stop goofing off and get to work.”

Pop’s shaggy gray hair and bushy brows surround a face that looks concerned—especially when he looks at me. He does another sign and spits before turning away. Somehow, I get the feeling Leo’s interpretation isn’t exact.

We finish checking the sheep to make sure they’re all okay, and when that’s done, Reggie tells us to go. He and Pop will do the rest. Thank God. I’m dead tired. My brain’s fried, and my arms and legs don’t feel attached to my body. I blink, but my eyes stay closed longer than I want. Leo’s having the same problem. As we stumble along the woodland path, the sky grows lighter. The cool dip of night wanes. It’ll be warmer today, though not hot. More like springtime in the south.

When we pass the point where the bulk of the flocks are penned, Leo turns down a dirt path and manages a weak, “Later, bro.”

I barely have the energy to nod. Ten minutes later, I push into the backyard via the old gate and squint up the porch stairs.

While I’m standing there, debating on whether or not to fall flat on my face right here, right now, or attempt the impossible, the back door opens and out steps Grandpa, a coffee cup in his hand. Cool. Grandpa’s not dead.

“Find the ewe?” he asks.

I nod.

“Good. Coming inside?”

I nod, but my feet won’t move.

“Today?”

No explanation about his sudden narcolepsy. No questions as to what I know. If ignoring the obvious is what he wants, I’m all for it. I force one foot forward, and then another. Once I get the momentum, I forge up the steps and brush past Grandpa, who holds the door open for me.

Grandma clucks her tongue. “You look like you’ve had a long night. Hungry?”

I grunt and crash around the corner and into the hallway. I don’t stop until I reach my room. I forget about brushing my teeth or stripping off my dirty clothes or even pulling back the pristine white comforter. I fall onto the bed, arms splayed, head to the side and hanging slightly over the edge.

I’m asleep before I take my next breath.

Blessing or Curse

Kera sighted the target down the shaft of her arrow, pulled back, and let it fly. Immediately, she notched another arrow and let it go before the first arrow found its mark. The thud of each impact was clean and crackled with enough energy to stop a man in his tracks.

Faldon grunted. “You would’ve made a fine soldier.”

“Not dressed like this.” Kera shook the bell sleeves of her crisp, blue morning dress. The flounce of lace, yards of fabric, and starched ribbon that encased her were hardly conducive to the sport.

“Your father wasn’t happy, hearing you were running around in boys’ clothes.” Faldon had returned his attention to his books, pacing back and forth behind her.

“Why is an adventurous nature cheered on in men, but stifled in women by yards of fabric?”

Faldon chuckled, but didn’t lift his head from his reading. “No man wants to marry a woman more manly than he.”

She picked up another arrow from the dozen she’d stuck in the ground near her feet and studied the pointed end. “The male ego. I’ll never understand it.”

“Not something I’m surprised to find out.”

His cavalier attitude was wearing thin. She needed him to pull his nose from his studies and do something. “What if there could be found someone more powerful than Navar?”

The thought of the power surge she’d felt when she saw Dylan wouldn’t leave her. She’d never experienced that kind of energy from anyone. It could’ve been a fluke, an anomaly in his world she wasn’t aware of, but she didn’t think so. In fact, she was sure it came from him. To top it off, the pux had no effect on him. All these years she’d believed he was a fantasy, a childish whim. Gooseflesh rose on her arms when she conjured his face in her mind’s eye.

Behind her, Faldon had set up a makeshift lab. He avowed natural sunlight far exceeded any light he could conjure to see the subject he so intently explored. With her question hanging in the air, the sage lifted a quizzical brow while he busily inspected the remains of one of the millispits that had entered the village. “More powerful than Navar? Tell me, would that be a blessing or a curse?”

Good question. Kera notched the arrow and pulled back on the string. “Is there a test for a pure heart?”

“There is no such thing. Besides, the heart is deceitful above all things. You, more than anyone, should know that.”

“But what if—”

“Kera.” Faldon sighed. “There is nothing any of us can do. It’s set. Navar has gained the loyalty of our people. The die has been cast. He will be king.”

Anger exploded in the twang of the bowstring as she let the arrow fly. It joined the cluster of arrows already in the target. She snapped her head toward Faldon and gifted him with a heated glare. “I can’t live with that, and neither should you.”

He jerked his nose out of his curiosity and hissed, “You have no idea how hard it is for me to admit, but the time for fighting is over. It’s our duty to see Navar on a path of devotion. He displays promise. He needs direction. Focus.”

She strode over to him, letting all her distrust and disappointment flow from her body. It pulsed like a living entity, grabbing his full attention.

Faldon leveled a warning eye on her. “Control yourself, Kera. Never let your emotions show. We’ve talked about the consequences time and again. Do you not care?”

“Oh, I care. But tell me this, am I the
only
one who cares that
Navar the Great
will destroy Teag? He doesn’t care about his people. Look at what he deems a reasonable weapon,” she said pointing at the dead millispit. “What manner of man creates something so wholly evil? I swear to you, he will never be happy until everyone is quaking in fear of his every move.”

“There are ways to mollify a man if one knows them.” Faldon turned back to his specimen and clicked his tongue after he slit the creature’s abdomen wide open, then scribbled in his notebook.

How typical of him. Say something that highlights her ignorance and leave it at that. Not today. She would have an answer. “And you know those ways?”

He let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Though to your young eyes I’m nothing more than a grumpy old sage, I’m a man, and I know how a man thinks.”

“Tell me.”

“Not yet. Oh, do not give me that look. Everything has it’s time.”

Kera snorted. “Between you and Father, I will never know a thing.”

“You know more than most women. Trust me. All too soon, you’ll wish for ignorance.”

“Ignorance leads to foolishness, and I’m not much interested in being labeled a fool.”

The old man mumbled unintelligibly to himself, completely ignoring her argument. It was like talking to a hunk of stone. He was more interested in poking into the disgusting creature than the future of Teag.

“Look, Kera.” His face paled as he held out the dissected millispit.

Though she cared little to see the inner workings of a millispit, Kera looked where the tip of his knife pointed—a collection of gooey bubbles. “What’s that?”

“Eggs.”

She took a closer look. “They’re reproducing? But that’s impossible.”

“Why? I’m sure Navar never gave it a thought. This explains why some were able to cross over the boundaries of Navar’s magic. Born free, they were never bound by that magic.”

“He’s polluted our woods? With those things?”

“I can’t even guess at the gestation period.” There was real fear in Faldon’s voice. He created a cup from the dirt at his feet, plopped the egg-laden millispit into it and snapped his fingers. Fire erupted in the bowl and burned it to ash. His eyes sought Kera’s. “We have to burn them all. Now.”

He turned and strode away.

Kera stared at the cup. The blue-black fire sputtered once, twice, then died. Navar’s hatred was bad enough, but now it had made him dangerous in the most thoughtless way possible. Without boundaries, his creations would destroy anything and everything in their path.

Without boundaries.
She’d helped him there. She and Lani. It was highly possible that the wall’s failure had to do with using the
incordium
to slice into it.
Incordium
nullified magic, and just like Lani, she had thoughtlessly used the blade to break through the barrier.

There was no doubt now about what she must do. Dylan had kept pace with her in the woods. He exuded a power he shouldn’t have. He had to be one of them.

Tonight, she’d sneak out.

It was up to her to convince Dylan he was needed here. She ignored the skip of pleasure at the prospect of seeing him again. It was the promise of finding a solution that caused her excitement, nothing more.

Saving her world took precedence over everything. She was of noble birth. She knew her place even if her father and Faldon had forgotten theirs. She could only hope Dylan would understand his.

Somehow, she would make him understand his duty. If not, she’d very likely end up dead. If there was one thing she knew for certain about her future king, Navar did not tolerate dissension.

Ever.

She brought her heel down onto the cup and ground it into the dirt. “All hail our wise king. He’ll be the death of us all.”

Nothing to Do

A knock sounds on my door, and I sputter awake. It’s two in the afternoon, or so the clock says. My neck’s stiff, and I rub the back of it, feeling the knobs of my spine as they crack back into place.

“Dylan?” comes Grandma’s soft voice as she hesitantly opens the door. “You have a phone call.”

Who’d be calling me? I don’t know anyone here. Then a thought pierces my brain. I push up on my elbows. “Is it Mom?”

I can hear the hope in my voice, and I hate myself for it. I’m not supposed to care, but I do.

Grandma bites her lip and shakes her head. “No. It’s someone named Jason.”

Jason? Who the—

The image of a big kid on a skateboard flashes through my mind. I bolt upright and hold out my hand for the call. “It’s the internet guy,” I whisper.

She gives me the phone.

“Hey,” I say, as I watch Grandma inspect the chaos that was once her guest room.

“So, you want to swap stories?” Jason asks, his doubt heavy in my ear.

“Yeah. Can we meet?”

“I think I’m a little old for you.”

“What?”

“Don’t you guys usually pick on eight-year-olds?”

I watch Grandma enter my bathroom. She gasps at the mess and begins to clean.

I move to the opposite side of the room for more privacy. “That’s disgusting. I’m not like that.”

“Don’t they all say that right before they get you?”

“Listen, I just wanna compare notes, not become best buds.”

“Relax! I’m funning with you, new guy. Do you honestly think I’d call if I didn’t know this number? You’re grandpa is the
man
in these parts. Everybody knows his long-lost daughter showed up, dumped her bastard, and then ran. Again.”

“Great.” At least I wouldn’t have to introduce myself to everyone at school. “So, are you interested?”

“Lucky for you, I’m bored. Give me an hour.” He hesitates. “Is, uh, Officer Newman there?”

I blink back my surprise. “I, um…” This was the first time I’d heard my grandparents’ last name—and it didn’t match mine. “My grandpa’s here.”

“Cool. My dad wants me to explain the
incident
before Mr. Tucker does. I don’t know why he went off on me. His sheep really know how to rock a mohawk. I’m posting the pictures as we speak—you should check ’em out. Anyway, I’ve gotta pretend I’m sorry and hopefully get my hand slapped instead of a fine.”

One thing I know about Grandpa is that he’s a black and white kind of guy. Screw up, and you pay up. “Good luck with that.”

“Yeah,” he says on a laugh. “Kissing old butt blows, but you gotta do what you gotta do. Later, dude.”

“Yeah.”

I hang up and slouch back on the bed. I’m not so sure I like Jason. It sounds like he’s one of those rebels without a cause. Bored, with nothing to do. Claiming he’s seen a ghost could be his way of gaining attention. It could be a coincidence that he described her as a girl in white. Didn’t all movies show the women floating about in white gowns?

“Well, now,” Grandma says on a sigh, pulling me out of my reverie. “That’s better.”

She stands, clutching all the objects she’d had on the dresser to her chest, and has a pleased expression on her face.

“What are you doing?”

“You don’t want to stare at this old junk. I’m taking it out of here. We’ll have to see what we can do to make this room yours. Posters. Paint. Whatever you want.”

What’s she talking about? “You can’t do that. This is the guest room.”

Her eyes twinkle above a soft smile. “I’d rather have you here than any guest.”

She cups my cheek with her free hand, her touch gentle and kind, and kisses my forehead as if she loves me. My tongue is glued to the top of my mouth. I stare as she leaves, unable to speak. To think.

I place my elbows on my knees and slip my fingers through my hair, feeling completely unworthy of her affection. She doesn’t know me. She’ll change her mind. Everyone does, eventually.

A layer of grit crumbles beneath my fingertips. I need a shower. I drag myself into the bathroom and plunge beneath the metallic slap of well water. My eyes close, and a vision of the girl in white flashes behind my lids. The intense urge to find her grows, just like the intense need to follow her in my dreams. But to find her, I’ve got to go where she is. Into the woods. My stomach twists as if I’ve eaten something rotten.

There’s something seriously unnatural going on in those woods. I’ve got to get over the fear that seizes me every time I’m surrounded by trees. I’m not five anymore. Because of the girl in white, I’ll be in the woods more often than not, trying to catch her. I’ve got no idea how I’ll do it, but I’m good at thinking on my feet.

When I come out of the bathroom, I feel a lot better and am confident I can out-maneuver Jason if he becomes a problem. Right now, he’s one more prick in a pile of idiots.

Bastard
.

I yank on a clean t-shirt and jeans. He called me a bastard. It’s just a word, but it feels worse than that.

As I slip on my shoes, the doorbell rings. I go to the living room and come face to face with a massive lump of meat. At about five-foot-nine, Jason is as compact as they come. I’m not a lightweight, but this guy’s neck and head are the same size. I knew he’d be big from seeing his online photos, but I didn’t think he’d be a physical anomaly. He has muscles in places I didn’t even know had muscles. I hope the added meat hasn’t compacted his brain to the size of a pea.

“Hey,” I say.

He nods, then gives Grandma a shy smile that enhances the thickness of his neck. “No, thank you, Mrs. Newman. I’m fine.”

“How about you, Dylan? Hungry?”

I am, but I’m far more interested in what Jason has to say. “I’ll get something later. Jason and me…we have stuff to do.”

Grandma’s mouth forms a small “o,” and she smiles sweetly. Too sweetly. “I’m all for friendship, so long as it’s not destructive. How about you, Jason?”

Subtlety isn’t her forté.

Jason lifts an eyebrow, even his forehead has more muscles than mine, and I groan my embarrassment. “I promise we’ll be good little boys. Come on, Jason.”

I lead him out the front door. We round the front corner of the house, past the laundry flapping on the line, and traipse along the back fence. Jason’s on my heels like a mastiff after a criminal, until we come to a secluded part in the dirt road that winds along the area behind the house. If we go straight back into the woods, we’ll run into the spot I last saw the girl in white.

“Were you high?” It’s a fair question. He’d said he’d been at a party, and his blog is plastered with photos of a kid too stupid to say no.

“Had a beer buzz, but that’s it. I don’t do drugs.”

I look him over. Who’s he kidding? He’s a walking steroid advertisement. “Seriously.”

He actually blushes. “Hey. The supplements my dad gives me will help me get into a top college and then straight onto the pros. It’s guaranteed.”

Talk about trust. What his dad is doing to him is messed up. “Aren’t you a little short for football?”

“Wrestling,” he says, and takes a threatening step forward. His jaw could be made of granite and his eyes of tempered steel. This guy’s definitely got the intimidation act down.

I stand my ground. Good thing I’m taller, and considering the weight of that muscle he’s carrying, I’m probably quicker. That he believes his Hulk impersonation is due to natural supplements means I’m definitely smarter, so I’m still feeling confident.

“So, you say you saw a ghost,” I challenge.

“You calling me a liar?”

“Did you see her?”

The muscle in his jaw bulges, and he sizes me up. After a few seconds, he forces himself to relax. I guess he doesn’t think I’m worth the effort. “I saw something.”

He looks away, like he’s uncomfortable. Something’s wrong here.

“Where’d you see her?”

“I don’t know. In there,” he says waving his hand toward the woods.

Too vague. I let him see my doubt, and the muscle in his jaw pops out. “Look, I know I saw something, but to say it was definitely a ghost…that’s pushing it.”

“You didn’t have a problem saying it online for the world to see.”

His lips grow thin and colorless and the whites of his eyes are showing. He’s nervous. Now that I think on it, he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself nothing happened—that he dreamed it.

Maybe he did.

I hope not. I’ve got a plan, one where I need a true believer, someone who takes chances. Leo would do in a crunch, but his mellow attitude is a problem. Jason, however, is perfect. A daredevil waiting for the next thrill.

I take a chance and say, “I chased her the two times I saw her.”

His face pales. “You saw her two times?”

“Yeah.”

“You really expect me to believe you saw
my
ghost
twice
?” Suddenly, he doesn’t sound so unsure, but then he grins and shakes his head. “Oh, no, you don’t.” He makes a circle around me, whipping his head from side to side, trying to spot anyone else hanging around. “Okay, is Nugget in on this? Rigley?”

“I’m not kidding. I saw her. Twice. I chased her, and she disappeared.” At his continued insistence this is some sort of prank, I search for something better. Something that he can’t deny. My mind flashes to the moment the girl turned with a look of surprise on her face. “Do you remember how you felt? Like someone sucked all the oxygen out of you? There was this heavy mist and then feeling lightheaded and wanting to puke. The air sort of shimmered and then she disappeared.”

He stops, and his eyes widen. “I remember the mist.” He shivers, and his voice gets tight. “But I forgot all about being lightheaded.”

“That’s what happened, wasn’t it?”

He doesn’t look pleased to admit it, but I can see the truth in his eyes. Finally, he nods. “Yeah. That’s how it happened.”

He walks down the lane a few paces and then whirls about. Excitement infuses his features. “I was beginning to think it didn’t happen. When you sent me that email, I thought someone was punking me.”

“I’m not. Trust me, I’d rather not think about it, but I can’t. She’s in my head.” More like she’s crawled into my brain and won’t let me go. I’m thinking about her all the time now. What if I’m not the only one? Jason did call her
his
ghost. The thought of Jason obsessing over the girl in white irritates me. So much so that I find myself asking, “Do you dream about her, too?”

“If I’m going to dream about a girl, it’s going to be my girlfriend, Lindsey Crandal, the hottest sophomore
ever
. She should be a senior, but she flunked the eighth grade, twice.” A lecherous look floats across his face. “Seriously, with a body and face like hers, she’s doesn’t need brains.”

One would think a guy with Jason’s genetics would look to sharpen the intelligence factor in the girlfriend department. Then again, who says opposites attract?

His smile turns wicked. “So, how long you been dreaming about dead girls?”

Well, lookie there. He’s got more wit than I thought underneath all that muscle. “Not girls.
A
girl.” I cast him a wary glance. This could all go wrong from this point, but I’ve got to take the chance. “I want to catch her.”

Jason’s heavy brows lower. “How do you catch a ghost?”

“I don’t know. But I need to try. We’ve got dead sheep, and she’s somehow linked to it all.”

“My dad told me about that. They say it’s some kind of cult thing.”

I shake my head, feeling the weight of what I need to do grow. “It’s a dead girl thing. I’m almost sure of it.”

Jason pops his knuckles and looks around for any lurkers. “You sure this isn’t someone playing a mind trip on us?”

I’ve been tripping since the moment Mom and I stepped foot in this place. It’s as if I knew something would happen before it did. Maybe I should take comfort in knowing I’ve got a good internal alarm system.