Keeper of the Lost Secrets

CHAPTER FORTY: I Look Dashing in Green

"Are you ready?" Keefe called from the other room; his voice thick with emotion. I didn't point it out, though. I knew full well that I was the same.

"Nearly," I called back, which was only half true. I was a mess, heart beating and tears welling up in my eyes. I blinked them away. I had to be strong. It was the only way to cope with the pity-filled stares.

I was wearing a green jerkin, pearls donning the centre piece, doing a poor job of holding up the facade of them being buttons. The entire piece was filled with ruffles and held so many shades of green I'm sure I'd blend in with a bush. I wore dark pants – the kind of dark that would be mistaken for black upon a first glance.

I chugged down the fifth elixir that morning. If you didn't know me, it would seem like I was taking drugs. Ha, I wish I could.

But no, they were just elixirs sold in Atlantis, each to make you look prettier in the morning. Admittedly, I did use these a lot, but hey! Eight hours of sleep is impossible when you're a Vacker.

When I stepped out, I was expected to see a beautiful Keefe, adorning green, but I hadn't expected the elegance he carried. He wore a simple green tunic with a dark green cape and well-fitted pants.

"You look good in my clothes." I teased, but the joke was hollow.

"Thanks. I'll make sure to wear them more often." He chuckled. He paused for a moment. "Or not at all."

I blushed a deep red, and I had a feeling I looked like a Christmas tree.

Biana stepped out into the living room, and, as per my expectations, she looked beautiful. She wore a deep green dress, with the kind of puffiness that would put my tired eyes to shame. She wore a teal hairclip and coiled a strand of loose hair on her finger repeatedly.

"Shall we leave?" mother said, clearing her throat. Her makeup didn't hide her tiredness.

"Keefe, are your parents okay with us taking you?" my father asked.

"Yeah. I called them earlier and let them know." He said, stretching the fabric of his clothes. He went quiet for a bit, but then whispered so only I could hear, "They don't really care about where I am, anyways."

I moved closer to him, so our shoulders were bumping. I couldn't hold his hand, or kiss him with my parents were around, but I was still going to do everything to make him feel better.

My father held the crystal into the light, and a beam of light opened up. We looked at each other one last time, and one by one, let the light carry us away.

***

The Wanderling Woods had a vacuum to it, like all sound that entered fizzled away. Even footsteps made only a concealed sound, which was strange, given the thousands of people gathered in the woodland.

Each tree was a unique representation of the person behind it. Some grew with pretty pink blossoms on brown bark, and some grew up in spikes, like anger was the last thing that ever crossed an elf's mind before they died. But they were all beautiful.

The crowd gathered around two empty spots, the councillors standing in front of them. They all wore the same solemn expression, though some wore it behind their regal manner.

"We are gathered here today to celebrate the lives of Sophie Elizabeth Foster and Dexter Alvin Dizznee." Councillor Emery said to the crowd. "As you know, death is not common in our kind. We are peaceful, eternal creatures. But that doesn't make us invulnerable to accidents. Because that is what this was. An accident.

"Sophie and Dex's registry pendants were found in the bottom of the ocean, no sign of their body. But the outcome of this tragedy is clear. They are dead."

Many gasped. I held back a sob, but tears still fell from my eyes. Of all the horrible ways that both of them could've died, death by drowning had not crossed my mind.

"There is much to grieve here today. The lives of those lost. The children they were. The people they were going to be. But we must see this as a sign of hope."

I balled my fists. How dare he talk about hope when two children were dead? How dare he even suggest the idea? And I wasn't the only one thinking this. Many murmured, scoffing at the councils' mechanical view of the world.

"And I know what you're thinking," Bronte said, holding a silencing hand up. "How is there hope in this dire situation? I offer you this: the fact that only two have died in the last sixteen years is sign enough that our world is among the safest in all the territories. We are not invulnerable to death, but we are very protected from it."

"I invite you to offer the Ruewen and Dizznee families your condolences." Emery said, closing their speech.

My clothes were soaked with tears, and my face slick with grease. My family shuffled forward, and I could see Keefe eying the opportunity, but he whispered that his parents wanted him with them and slipped off.

When we finally got to the front, I was unable to hold back a sob. Lord and Lady Ruewen stood at the front with shaking hands. They were both crying, and I didn't blame them one bit. The Dizznees were the same. Even the usual energy of the twins had deflated so they were left with their grief.

"I am truly sorry for your loss," my father whispered to Grady. He sniffed and nodded.

"The loss was felt by many," Grady said. "There is hope in that."

I offered my condolences to the Ruewens and then moved up to the Dizznees. Despite everything, there was an awkwardness to the interaction. I felt guilty, being able to stand here and offer my thoughts, while their son, and likely their whole family, hated me. But it courteous and deserved, so I pushed past the anxiety.

When we reached home, no one was able to hold it together. My mother and father broke into a dam, their backs away from us. I had been crying the whole time but fled to my room to cry some more.

They were gone. I had to accept that. I had to move on. And I had to do it fast. This feeling was emptying, and I was scared that, if I held onto it too long, it would break me.

But something didn't add up. The pieces floated around in my mind, like magnets, but none of them snapped together. I ran to my desk, flopping onto my seat.

When I wrote down the lack of evidence, it was clear something was going on. But I couldn't make myself believe that. No body, no witnesses, nothing. Sophie and Dex were just gone, and we'd already held a planting for them. That couldn't be true. It simply couldn't.

Fitz, help, please! A voice called out to me, and it sounded so much like Sophie, I nearly cried. We're near a tree that has all the four seasons on it. Please Fitz, I need your... the voice cut out. I looked away from the paper. It couldn't be her, but the lilt of her voice, the desperation tinged with hope in her tone, it wasn't something my delusion, memory or grief could conjure.

I ran to my imparter, muttering, "Hail Keefe Sencen," with as much conviction as I could muster.

"Fitzy? How are you-"

"Get here now."