Scarlet and the Keepers of Light (8 page)

“For helping you find it.” Chosen smiled knowingly.

Brennan decided to ignore the comment and the smirk. “What are we doing here?” Frustration and a multitude of other emotions still grated in his voice, sharp as broken glass.

“I told you, it is the shortest route through—”

“I don’t mean in the forest,” Brennan snapped. “I mean what are we doing? Who are you looking for? Why do you need to find that person? Why do you need my help? Why me?”

“I should think that the ‘why you’ would be obvious after your little display,” Chosen teased.

“Stop playing games. I have a right to know.”

Chosen stood, his handsome features turning suddenly cold and expressionless, though his gray eyes flashed with anger. “You insolent, ungrateful boy. How dare you question me?”

Brennan rose to his feet as well and faced Chosen, his face stony. The broth had done wonders; he now felt a great deal like his normal healthy self. He didn’t want to hurt Chosen—after all, he’d rescued Brennan from a life of slavery—but when he saw the man standing passively by, watching as he was attacked, he’d felt a great deal of the debt he owed the man slipping away. He needed answers, and if he didn’t get them now, he didn’t think he ever would.

The stalemate lasted for several minutes, neither Chosen nor Brennan moving or speaking. Finally Chosen laughed and sat back down, and Brennan reluctantly followed suit.

“There is a very special girl that I need to find,” Chosen said, “and when I do, I have something I’ll need you to do.”

The look Brennan gave him told Chosen that such a meager explanation would not nearly be enough.

“We all have a destiny, Brennan. Mine lies with this girl. I have to find her.”

“I don’t believe in destiny.”

“That’s because you’re a fool, and you think yours was to be a slave.”

“No, it’s because I think I have a choice,” Brennan snapped back.

“That’s fine, believe what you will.” Chosen looked intently into Brennan’s eyes. “I have a destiny, and in this I have no choice.”

“Fine, so you have to find this girl. What do you need me for?”

Chosen didn’t answer at once; he seemed to be struggling with his pride. “I need you to protect her until I can finish what needs to be done.”

Brennan shook his head. Even when Chosen did give information, it was still vague and shifty. “I’m just a sixteen-year-old Conquered. How am I supposed to protect anyone?”

“No, Brennan. You’re a sixteen-year-old Satorian who is the first person in recent history to survive a battle with a tiranthrope.”

Could that possibly be true? There was no way for Brennan to know, and he had little faith in anything Chosen might say. The man obviously had an agenda, and he struck Brennan as someone who would say or do anything to get what he wanted. What sense did it make to choose a sheltered sixteen-year-old Conquered as a protector? Brennan had no idea how to protect anyone. He wasn’t even sure he could look after himself. All he knew of the outside world that came from stories told to him by his mother. Until this encounter, he had never even known tiranthropes existed.

Brennan looked over at the motionless beast. The Tempest. He had actually tapped into it, used it. Fought with its power raging through him. Why now, though? Why couldn’t he have harnessed it when his mother needed him? Was he really so self-absorbed that only a threat on his own life had allowed him to channel it? What kind of bodyguard was that? Not a very good one, Brennan supposed. Yet Chosen seemed to act as if what had happened with the tiranthrope was a positive sign. He certainly seemed impressed by it.

But he’d get no answers just now—that was clear enough. He’d table the subject for the time being, but he wasn’t going to let it go. If Chosen wanted Brennan to stay with him, he’d have to come up with some decent answers soon.

9

The Feast

The dining hall ran the entire length of the castle, and from what Scarlet could tell, it was spacious enough to fit all of the inhabitants of Illuminora. Scarlet and her family were seated at the head of the longest table, with Xavier and a group of Tounder he called his council. The remaining tables, all long and elegantly carved, were arranged parallel to this central table on either side, forming a stair-stepped diamond pattern. The walls and ceiling of the dining hall glowed with a pleasant radiance, neither too bright nor too dim. Even though they lit the whole room uniformly, Scarlet found that she could look directly at them without hurting her eyes.

Before the food was brought in, it was customary for Xavier to speak to the crowd, offering a prayer of sorts to bless the meal and those about to eat it. The little man looked smaller than ever standing at the center of the dining hall, but his voice had no trouble filling the space.

“My friends,” he began. “What a glorious day!”

A loud and hearty cheer erupted from the Tounder, and Xavier waited for it to subside before continuing.

“As you know, we have very special guests with us in our humble home. Though many of you may have already met them, it is my pleasure to formally introduce all of you to Miss Scarlet Hopewell and her family, Charles, Allie, and Melody.” Xavier motioned for them to stand, which they did to another rising cheer from the Tounder. “They have traveled far to be with us today and have already had their fair share of toils, so I will ask you to extend to them your warmest welcome and to help to make them feel that this is as much their home as it is ours.”

Xavier paused for a moment, allowing the warmth of the introductions to pass before continuing.

“The path ahead lies dark and treacherous. And while we will all do our part, it is for those select few that destiny calls upon to carry the light into the darkness. We, the Keepers of Light, shall give them the means to face what is to come. Together we will light the way.”

Xavier lowered his head, and the Tounder followed suit. As one chorus they began to sing, their voices more beautiful than any choir Scarlet had ever heard. The sound filled the hall, washing over Scarlet and her family. To Scarlet’s astonishment, every scrape or scratch on her body began to heal, right before her eyes. All negative feelings, no matter how buried in the recesses of her brain, faded away, leaving only a joyous sensation of hope and enlightenment. At that moment, among the soft lilting voices of the Tounder, she felt that there was nothing she could not accomplish, no dream she couldn’t make come true.

The chorus faded, and Xavier raised his head, his benevolent smile full again on his aged face, and clapped his hands.

“Let the feast begin!”

A large crew of Tounder flew in at once from the kitchen, carrying tray upon tray of food, setting before Scarlet and her family an assortment of exotic fruits and vegetables, magnificent pastries and breads, and soups and stews. Then they filled crystal goblets to the brim with a sweet milk, made from the acorns of the great oak that hid the entrance to Illuminora.

The food was not only strange but wonderful, and Scarlet found her appetite stronger even than her curiosity over Xavier’s mysterious speech. Some things tasted as familiar as her mother’s cooking, while others were tastes she had never experienced before. The biggest surprise was the acorn milk. When she was younger, Scarlet had tasted an acorn after watching a Disney Chip and Dale cartoon. She remembered it being extremely bitter and giving her a stomachache. Either being shrunken changed her taste buds, or this was from a very different sort of acorn. The milk was sweet, refreshing and made her stomach feel pleasant and warm.

The feast turned out to be the grandest of celebrations. The Tounder ate and laughed with such abandon that any ominous or foreboding thoughts seemed impossibly distant. Once Scarlet had taken the edge off her hunger, she couldn’t help but share in the Tounder’s merriment. But occasionally she would steal a glance at her dad, and then she felt a shadow pass over the room. Despite the music and revelry, he looked preoccupied; he didn’t seem to be enjoying the feast. Plenty of time to worry about that after the feast, she told herself, shaking the feeling off; for the moment, she would just enjoy the magic and spectacle of this wondrous celebration.

Her father, however, wasn’t the only thing that threatened to dampen Scarlet’s mood. Near the end of the feast Lindi appeared—for the first time during the celebration, or at least Scarlet hadn’t noticed her before—behind her with a pitcher of acorn milk. This time the young Tounder was making no effort to hide her contempt. Her face was set in a look of disdain as she refilled Scarlet’s goblet, sloshing the milk onto the table and muttering “Oops” in a snide, overly bright tone.

For a moment, Scarlet thought about coming right out and asking Lindi what her problem was, but then she decided that this wasn’t the best time to risk causing a scene. The girl’s attitude rankled, though. The next time she was alone with Lindi, she would find out what was going on. It just didn’t make any sense.

For now, she made a point of thanking Lindi in the sweetest voice she could muster.

***

After a long, mostly glorious evening, the feast began to break up, and slowly the dining hall emptied. Xavier asked
Scarlet and her dad to stay, along with the Tounder council. Her mom agreed to take Melody up to bed, but said she would be back down to talk to Scarlet and tuck her in as well.

With the hall now empty of everyone except those Xavier had asked to stay, the mood shifted. It was as if the darkness hinted at in Xavier’s speech, held off by the merriment of all the revelers, had at last descended on them like a cloud. Xavier turned to Scarlet’s dad, his face still calm and cheerful; behind the clear amber of his eyes, however, she could see a degree of anxiety.

“Would you like me to explain things, Mr. Hopewell, or would you rather give it a try?” he asked, his voice full of genuine concern.

Her dad placed his hand over Scarlet’s and gave her a worried look. “I’m still trying to figure it out, myself. It might be better if you . . .”

“I understand completely,” said Xavier. “Miss Scarlet, my dear, as you’ve probably already realized, you are a very special person to us. Not just the Tounder, but all of us. I’ve known about you since before you were even born.”

“How can that be?” Scarlet asked.

“Try not to interrupt, darling,” her dad said, squeezing her hand. “Let him finish, and hopefully it’ll be clearer.”

Xavier smiled warmly, giving Scarlet and her dad a moment before continuing. “The Dorans are a race of men and women who live in our land, Satorium. They are much like you and your family and all the other men and woman you know, with one important exception. Much as we are keepers and users of light, they too have the ability to perform what to you might seem like extraordinary things.” Xavier paused, lost in thought for a moment. “They are magical. They can use magic.” He paused again, longer this time. “We have a prophecy. Do you know what that is, dear?”

“Sure,” said Scarlet, trying her best to take it all in; she could feel that something big and dangerous was coming, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. She couldn’t help feeling a strong sense of foreboding. “It’s like a prediction of the future.”

“Very good,” Xavier said, sounding so wise and grandfatherly that it made Scarlet smile, despite her apprehension. “That is exactly what it is. Although I’m afraid that when it comes to prophecies, it’s not always so simple. Many things can affect how a prophecy comes to be, and it is always difficult to try and figure them out. Most times we don’t even bother. There have been many prophecies spoken over the course of even my long life, and usually they are ignored. After all, there’s not much anyone can do about something that is supposed to happen anyway.

“The prophecy I want to tell you about is quite different, though. Unlike most, this one tells of two possible futures. One is full of hope—the other, of despair. You see, the prophecy says that from the Dorans will rise a great and evil force that will threaten all goodness in the two worlds. It says that this force will enslave those without the gift of magic, and rule over the rest of us with tyranny and hate.

“That force has been identified. He is the prince of the Dorans, and his name is Thanerbos. He will have powers beyond what any living being possesses. He has an unlimited capacity for evil and a mastery over dark magic that I can barely match with light. The only reason he hasn’t made his move to take over, Scarlet, is because his father, the king, knowing what he was, had him locked in a prison, where he is guarded by all the magical power the king possesses. But the king grows weak as the prince grows strong. The attack on your family is proof of that. He can’t yet leave the prison, but he commands the Mortada, and he is able to use part of his power from the confines of his tower. No one knows exactly how long we have before he is free, and when that day comes, a mighty war will begin. This war, those of us who wish for peace and good in the two worlds will have no hope of winning.”

Scarlet’s head was spinning. A large part of her brain wanted not to believe a word of it. And yet here she was, in a village hidden beneath a tree, where no one was over seven inches tall and they made toys out of light.

“So what can you do to stop him? I don’t understand,” she said, strain in her voice.

“That is only one of the possible outcomes. You remember, I said there were two,” Xavier’s smile returned. “The prophecy also speaks of a hero. A great sorceress who will wield her magic from within, and will match his power. The For Tol Don. A woman from the nonmagical world. This sorceress will stand against the dark one and save us.”

Xavier let these words hang in the air as if they needed time to breathe and grow. His smile didn’t fail as he looked tenderly into Scarlet’s eyes.

“That woman, my dear, is you.”