RALSTON HURRIED TOWARD Jules as they trudged the fa- miliar pebbled path to the Laceworks’ home. Despite the stars above, the grassy terrain below was pitch. A soft wind rippled the long grasses that towered over the tall Jules in some parts. Even with the lanterns the night seemed to rule. Their lantern glowed faintly between the swaying blades.
Ralston said, “How’d Gehzurolle even know we’re Keepers? We were always so careful not to tell anyone.”
Jules looked over his shoulders. “Gehzurolle’s not supposed to be omniscient, but his spies lurk everywhere.”
“You mean the Scorpents?”
Jules lowered his voice. “Not just. Could be Handoverans, or Elfies who’ve been bought with a price. Then there’re three others. One looks like a red flame and his name is Rage. It‘s hard to notice him, especially during a fire, although some have seen him and lived!”
“So, he’s in charge of fire?”
“Rage lives up to his name. He’s in charge of anger. That’s what Grandpa said.”
“Who else?”
“Another resembles smoke: name is Whisperer. He whispers things in the air to influence people or the weather or such. He gives them sugges- tions. And the third is Sekt: he’s rumored to roam in fogs and mists, but he hides well and not much is known of him. Gehzurolle’ll do anything to make trouble for us. He can even manipulate birds for his end.”
“Birds?” Ralston made a face.
“Not all kinds. Prey birds. That’s why I think Gehzurolle’s involved. Our raven attack seemed too coincidental, especially with this.” He swept his arm about. “Did you hear anything last night?”
“Besides your snoring?”
“I saw a bright flash across the sky last night,” Jules said. “At first I thought it was lightning, but then in the distance a glare brightened the night and the ground trembled.”
“A bomb in the forest? Maybe the war’s coming closer?” Bitha came up from behind and said, “I hope Dad’s okay.”
“Maybe the glare came from an explosion.” Jules hastened his steps, eyes skimming the thick branches above. The trail brought them to the edge of a clearing leading to another moss-covered house under two twisted roots of a redwood, the home of Cori Lacework, his wife of eighteen years, Jessie, and their son, sixteen- year-old Holden.
“What do we tell Mrs. L?” Ralston said.
Jules shrugged. “Saul should be there and might have told her. We shouldn’t scare her.”
“What if,” Ralston asked, “the burglars attacked the Laceworks, too?”
So many questions! Jules scanned the boughs above. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
YOU ARE READING
Keeper of Reign
Teen FictionBooks written in blood. Most are lost, their Keepers with them. A curse that befell a people. A Kingdom with no King. Life couldn’t get more harrowing for the Elfies, a blend of Elves and Fairies. Or for sixteen-year-old Jules Blaze. Or could it? F...
