The Owl Keeper (15 page)

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What an idiot he'd been, listening to their stupid lies. Didn't they realize that he was Max Unger, the boy who loved owls? He was the kid who waited under the owl tree every night for the Owl Keeper to come. He would rather die than kill anything--especially an owl.

Downstairs he could hear Mrs. Crumlin and the doctor having a long, drawn-out conversation. Who were the mysterious twelve they had talked about, he wondered, who were being trained in a facility in Sengeneth? And what were they being trained to do?

Their muffled voices drifted up, filling Max with anguish and rage. He burrowed deeper under the quilt, trying to shut them out, while disquieting thoughts filled his head. Did his parents know anything about his apprenticeship? Were they part of the High Echelon's plot--or had they been deceived too?

Sobbing, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

He was startled awake by a knock at the door. Outside his window he could see the two moons, rising against a cold black sky.

"Are you awake, Max?" his father called in a weary voice. "Aren't you coming down for dinner?"

"Go away!" shouted Max, choking back a sob. He wasn't ready to face his parents. "Leave me alone!"

His gaze traveled around the room, resting on his collection of odd-shaped stones, his jar of found objects, an empty lizard bowl, a model wind-borne vessel tied to a strand of wire. All these things were going to disappear soon, when his parents moved to the dome and Cavernstone Grey was demolished.

His father gave another timid knock. "Max?"

"I hate you! I hate all of you!"

"Let me know when you're ready to talk," mumbled his father,

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sounding dejected. But Max didn't care; all he wanted was to be left alone.

The world around him seemed utterly black. His chest ached every time he thought about Rose. Where was she? Had she found a safe place to hide? He knew what would happen if they caught her: she'd be sent to Children's Prison and he'd never see her again.

He envisioned her knotted hair, smelling of leaves and tree sap, her green eyes flecked with gold. The way she swung so expertly from the branches of trees, spiders falling from her long coat. Her silly high laugh, her lopsided smile. He even missed her bossy voice.

He had never had a true friend before--not a human friend, anyway, not someone like Rose. She was gutsy, unique, like the deadly purple sphinx. And once, beneath the owl tree, she had kissed the top of his ear, making his heart racket inside his chest.

Max was so distraught that he realized he was coming down with a fever. Chilled and semi-delirious, shivering all over, he stayed in bed, sweat rolling off his forehead, the quilt hiked up to his chin, thumbing through
Owls of the Wild.
But the words jumped around on the pages too much, so he returned the book to its hiding place under the closet floorboards.

The next morning Mrs. Crumlin left a bowl of turnip soup outside his door. Max ignored it, vowing never to eat her poisoned food again. All through the morning and early afternoon he stayed in bed, drifting in and out of sleep until late afternoon, when a knock at the front door woke him.

He jumped out of bed, rushed to the top of the stairs and leaned over the railing. Down in the hallway he saw Einstein

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handing Mrs. Crumlin a sheaf of papers. "Sorry to hear Max is sick," Einstein said. "Hope he gets better soon."

"Just between you and me, I think it's all in his head," Mrs. Crumlin replied. "Never mind about him, tell me the latest news."

Max gripped the wooden rail until his knuckles turned white. "Not Rose," he whispered to himself. "Please don't let it be Rose--"

"The Dark Brigade's identified the runaway they caught two weeks ago," Einstein announced. "A man named Eccles, ex-ecology professor from Scattersea, next town over. Fancies himself an intellectual revolutionary, dead set against the High Echelon's policies. A traitor!" he added with a sneer.

It saddened Max to hear Einstein talk that way, knowing his friend's attitude was fueled by the High Echelon's lies. But hadn't Rose said she came from Tattersall Heath? It was hard to know what to believe from her anymore.

"This Eccles fellow will get his comeuppance," said Mrs. Crumlin in a self-satisfied voice. She gave a low chuckle and Einstein joined in.

Their laughter struck Max as cruel and smug. He had never noticed before just how fanatical they were.

"And that's not all, Mrs. Crumlin!" said Einstein in a voice that made Max's stomach lurch. "The Dark Brigade nearly caught the runaway girl yesterday! My uncle Phineas joined in the chase, and you'll never guess what happened!"

Holding his breath, Max listened with a growing sense of dread.

"My uncle devised this contraption, see, for shooting poison darts at wild animals--slows them down to a crawl. So he shoots this dart at the girl and it's tipped with some new experimental

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drug. She won't get far, because in two days or so her vision will be messed up and--bingo!--they'll nab her."

Mrs. Crumlin gave a low chuckle. "Oh my word, that's Phineas Tredegar for you, coming up with another brilliant invention! I've always said he was a genius."

The two of them started laughing again.

Horrified, Max backed away, their manic laughter ringing in his ears.
Rose! They blinded Rose!

He fled to his room, locking the door behind him, and sat trembling on his bed, trying to calm himself. Where was Rose now? He had to save her from the Dark Brigade! But how? What about the High Echelon and its creatures? What about his allergies to sunlight?

The other option was to stand his ground and fight them all to the bitter end. Who am I kidding? he asked himself, I wouldn't stand a chance.

He ached to know where Rose was hiding and whether she was safe. Without her father, Max knew she was totally alone, running from the Dark Brigade, with no one to turn to--except him.

He had to find her.

Late that night, certain that his parents were asleep, Max slipped out the back door and raced downhill to the moonlit grassy field. The air was frigid and he wondered if Rose was warm enough in her ratty old coat and rubber boots.

He wore three sweaters, one on top of the other, knowing he might be waiting all night for Rose to turn up. She was bound to come, he told himself, she had no place else to go. But what if she

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couldn't see because of the poison dart? How would she find her way to the tree?

The moment he saw the owl tree, with no Rose swinging from a branch, Max got choked up. Her absence, he realized, was as if the two moons had been ripped from the sky, leaving a black hole behind.

With alarm he noticed something new: a length of tape wrapped around the tree, cordoning it off. Puzzled, he ran over. Tied to stakes hammered into the ground, the tape was bright red with yellow suns. Max's heart sank. The High Echelon was planning to cut down the owl tree!

Panic raced through him. Where was his owl? Looking up into the tree, he searched the branches for her, giving a few wild hoots. But he was so upset he sounded more like a sick frog.

He hooted again. At last he saw the silver owl, looking bedraggled, staring down reproachfully from the top of the tree. Relief washed over him. She was safe!

But he could see that her feathers drooped and her good eye wasn't as bright as usual. Suddenly he was afraid for her. Did she realize the danger she was in? If the Dark Brigade found her, she wouldn't be able to save herself because of her broken wing!

"Oh little owl, you're still here!" he cried, climbing onto a low branch. "I wanted to come last night, but I was sick with a fever."

The owl hopped down from branch to branch and snuggled against his jacket, as if to say she forgave him. She looked a bit frightened, he thought.

"The Dark Brigade were here today, weren't they? I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you," said Max, extracting a

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thistle from her wing. "Everything's in a mess: Rose is on the run, my future's a disaster, and Mrs. Crumlin found your secret message"--his eyes filled with tears--"and now you're going to lose your home!" He held his owl close, marveling at the pure silver of her wings. "I want to take you and Rose someplace safe! I want to run away but I'm too scared!"

The owl regarded him with luminous eyes. If he understood owl language, she would probably answer with comforting words. Her sadness was palpable; it tore at his heart.

"I have to find Rose," he said determinedly. He found a peach in his knapsack and offered it to his owl. "I was sure she'd be here." The owl nibbled daintily, but when she had finished she still looked sad. "It's not midnight yet. I think she'll come."

The owl regarded him with her magnificent solemn eyes. Most of the time her expression was serene. But not tonight--tonight she seemed to emanate sadness and fear.

The two sat on the branch, being sad together. From his perch in the owl tree, Max watched the dark rushing river far below. If he squinted he could see the glowing eyes of the Misshapens, bobbing through the forest on the other side. Their eyes chilled him to the bone.

Hours passed. The night grew colder. Clinging to the tree trunk, Max fell into a dreamless sleep.

The owl hooted, jolting him awake, and he nearly fell from the branch. He could hear a rustling at the base of the tree. Was it a wolf? His heart stopped. He didn't know if plague wolves could climb trees.

Boots thumped, grass crackled. It sounded like the Dark Brigade.

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Max pictured them marching through the field in their outrageous capes and goggles, lie detectors strapped to their backs. He shook with fear and his heart pounded crazily. There was nowhere to hide; he was trapped in the middle of a field.

"Max?" croaked a thin voice. "Are you there?"

Max hesitated. Was this a trick to draw him out into the open? The silver owl flapped from a branch, hooting at him. He peered down through the leaves and saw a girl in a long coat and oversized boots, hair sticking out in a hundred directions. His heart leapt for joy.

"Rose!" he cried, scrambling down the trunk.

Slumped against the tree was Rose--unwashed, wild-eyed and sleepless--her coat in tatters. Dark circles beneath her eyes gave her a scary, witchlike appearance.

"Rose, it's really you!" Max threw his arms around her. "I was afraid I'd never see you again!"

Rose gave him a listless hug and he could tell her heart wasn't in it. She was exhausted--probably hungry, too. He noticed she seemed extra-thin, as if she'd snap in two if he squeezed too hard.

"You're not safe here!" he gasped. "The Dark Brigade's looking for you!"

"I know, Max, the town's crawling with them. They chased me all over the place and someone shot an arrow at me!" Rose's eyes flashed angrily. "It went through my coat and stuck right here, in my arm, but I pulled it out."

Max sucked in his breath.

"It didn't hurt much," she said, and he could tell she was trying to sound brave. "I was so angry, Max!
I'm
the one called Artemis,
I'm
the huntress--it should be me shooting arrows at them!"

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"Are you okay?" asked Max, wondering nervously how the poisoned arrow had affected her vision. "Can you see me?"

Rose pulled away, staring at him with haunted eyes. It looked to Max as if the light had gone out of them.

"Course I can see you," she said, frowning. "You look like the same goofy kid as always. Got any food? I'm starving."

Max breathed a sigh of relief. Rose hadn't been blinded after all! Maybe, he told himself, the experimental medicine had been faulty, or the dose too low.

"I've got peaches," he said, searching through his knapsack.

"What's with the red tape around the tree?" she asked as he handed her a peach.

"The Dark Brigade was here! They marked the owl tree." A weary sadness fell over him. One by one, the High Echelon was taking away the things he cared about most. "I guess they'll cut it down soon."

"Told you, didn't I?"

While Rose devoured the fruit, Max noticed with alarm that her hands were raw and bleeding, and there was a nasty scrape down the side of her face.

"I forgot the thermos," he said, feeling bad. "Sorry, there's nothing to drink."

Max thought guiltily of his comfortable bed, his warm house and its well-stocked pantry. While he'd been sulking in his room, Rose had been running, hiding, scavenging for food. How could he feel sorry for himself when he lived in comfort and security?

"That's okay, owl boy." Rose huddled against the bark, gnawing on the peach. "I don't trust Crumlin's hot cocoa anyway."

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Max had never seen her so shaken. He was used to Rose being bossy and confident, but now it seemed all the fight had gone out of her. Should he tell her that the arrow was a poison-tipped dart? Was this the right time to mention it? Somehow he didn't think so. What if it made her even more disheartened?

Rose gave a tired sigh as she lifted a clump of hair from her neck. Max caught a flash of yellow. "A tattoo!" he said.

"Don't you know anything, Max Unger? I'm a Night Seer, same as you. They marked me for the diamond mines."

It hadn't occurred to him that Rose must have a tattoo as well. But of course she did--he remembered her mentioning it the night she told him about the Mark of the Owl. Intrigued, he asked, "Can I see it?"

She leaned forward, pushing a strand of knotted hair off the nape of her neck. In the light of the two moons Max could see the diamond-shaped tattoo. He traced it slowly with his index finger.

"It feels kind of rough," he said, wondering how many other kids their age had similar tattoos. "If I squinch up my eyes, I can see your owl mark underneath." It was sad to think that the Night Seers had been banished to the darkness, when once they had been magical and revered, able to understand the language of silver owls.

"My dad and I ran away before the High Echelon could take me off to the mines." Rose used her sleeve to wipe her mouth. "We had this plan, see, we were going to spring my mom out of jail." She had eaten every bit of the peach and was sucking on the pit.

"Your mother's in
jail?"
said Max, caught off guard. He felt hurt and angry. This was one more secret Rose had kept from