Keeper of the Lost Cities

Chapter 3

SO . . . WHAT?" KEEFE MANAGED TO SAY when he finally found his voice. "You're saying I'm . . . an alien?"

He held his breath.

Biana erupted into laugher.

His cheeks grew hot, but he was also relieved. He did not want to be an alien.

"No," she said when she'd managed to compose herself. "I'm saying you're an elf."

An elf.

The word hung in the air between them—a foreign object that didn't belong.

"An elf," he repeated. Visions of little people in tights with pointy ears danced through his brain, and he couldn't help giggling.

"You don't believe me." Biana seemed disappointed

"Did you really expect me to?" Keefe countered

"Honestly, I'd be more surprised if you did believe me." She fisted a lock of her chocolate-brown hair, tugging on it gently

"Um, I'm no hair expert, but I'm pretty sure you aren't supposed to do that" Keefe found himself saying

"What? Oh, yeah" Biana said absentmindedly, but she didn't stop

"Stop that" 

Keefe swatted at her hand, and she dropped it in shock. After recomposing herself, she sighed

Could someone that...

That...

Could someone like her be crazy?

He guessed that Biana could probably pull it off. Something about her just screamed 'I can fool you at any time'

"I'm telling you the truth, Keefe. I don't know what else to say."

"Okay," he agreed. If she refused to be serious, so would he. "Fine. I'm an elf. Am I supposed to help Frodo destroy the ring and save Middle-earth? Or do I have to make toys in the North Pole?"

She huffed out a laugh. "Would it help if I showed you?"

"Oh, sure—this ought to be good." Keefe glanced at the sky

"Oh, mighty clouds! Be my witness while Hair Tug Girl over here tries to show me Santa's Workshop"

Biana whacked the back of his head lightly

"oh shut up, weirdo."

He folded his arms as she pulled out a slender silver wand with intricate carvings etched into the sides. At the tip, a small, round crystal sparkled in the sunlight.

"Is that your magic wand?" he couldn't resist asking.

She giggled "I mean, in human terms, yeah, kinda, but we call it a Pathfinder"

 She spun the crystal and locked it into place with the silver latch at the top. 

Biana's gazed at him imploringly "Now, this can be dangerous. It'd be a shame if your particles scattered, so I need you to do exactly what I say," 

His joking smile faded. "That depends. What do I have to do?"

"You need to take my hand and concentrate on holding on. And by concentrate, I mean you can't think about anything else—no matter what happens. Can you do that?" Biana's gaze was hard.

"Why?"

Keefe thought it was a perfectly fine question, but Biana didn't find it amusing

"Do you want proof or not?"

He wanted to say no—she couldn't actually prove anything. What was she going to do, whisk him away to some magic elf land?

But he was curious. . . .

And, really, what harm could come from holding someone's hand?

Keefe could think of millions of examples, but before he could overthink it, he grabbed her hand in his.

She glanced over her shoulder, scanning the parking lot again. "Okay, we're alone. We go on three. You ready?"

"What happens on three?" he said cheekily

She shot him a warning look, and he scowled at her. But he bit his tongue and concentrated on holding her hand, ignoring his racing heart. Seriously—when did he decide he was going to fall for this?

"One," she counted, raising the wand. Sunlight hit a facet in the crystal and a bright beam refracted toward the ground.

"Two." She tightened her grip. Keefe closed his eyes.

"Three."