The Keepers of Azera ( Book 1 of the Keepers Trilogy)

Chapter 14

James stares off into the distance. "She's threatened me, Callie. She's threatened to make me lose my job, to make my life a living hell... I hate her and I don't think she should be in charge here at all. In fact, I don't think she should even work here. She hates children and she neglects you guys. She's got everyone under her thumb. She only cares about herself and money."

"And she's brainwashed the government into keeping her job," I say. "This isn't fair, James!"

"I know it isn't," James says evenly. "But I can't do anything about it, and nor can you, and nor can anyone."

"I'm scared," I whisper. "I can't stop thinking about how Simon wants me. He wants me, James, he wants to use me, and he wants you d-dead..." The tears come back again, and I'm sobbing too hard to speak. James stands up and wraps his arms around me again, pressing my face into his tummy. "You can't tell Matilda," I whisper.

"I won't. You know I won't," he says, stroking my hair.

"A-and Poppa, he wants m-m-me to train with-with weapons, in case I need to-to use them, I guess, and I know that sh-she'll take that away from us..."

"If the Chief Keeper says that you should, then she can't take that away from you. Every weekday night after dinner. How's that sound to you?"

I look at him with wide eyes. "But-but how will you t-t-train me?" 

"Callie, I studied to be a Trainer in school. I wouldn't have been able to become a Guardian otherwise. So I know how to use weapons."

"Crap," I say, which makes him laugh. "How come you needed to know how to be a Trainer to be a Guardian?"

"Who goes into detail with your Training? Me or Matilda?"

"Um, did you just forget our conversation?"

"Okay, bad example. But you know that Trainers teach the concepts, and then the Guardian goes into more detail, right?"

"Yeah...."

"Okay, so in order to learn that stuff, we had to study Training. Specifically, Keeper Training, because your Training is obviously more war-oriented than, say, a medic's training. Now, I learned about Time Keeping when you were still a toddler. I learn it as I go along with your Training," James explains.  

"Oh, okay," I reach for the glass of water on the table. James hands it to me. "I'm glad to see you're okay," he says quietly.

No, I'm not okay. I'm not okay with the fact that Simon wants to use me. I'm not okay with the fact that Simon would probably kill James to get to me. I'm not okay with the fact that Matilda is forcing me to fall behind with my training. I'm not okay with any of it. I've held the panic at bay for now, but I'm not okay. I don't think I will be for a long while.

I think of the premonition. It's clearer now. I make out the piece of metal in my hand-it wasn't a knife, after all-and see the little flower pattern all over the gown. I'm so scared, so angry. I had already figured out someone had died-or will die-but I didn't know who.

But if my hunch is right, Simon gets what he wants. Part of it, anyways.

My head lurches back, spilling the water all over me again. "James? Remember the premonition I had?" I say in a small voice.

"Yeah?"

"I told you that I think someone's going to die. And I think, by putting the flashback and the premonition together, I-I know...who it is."

James sits down on the floor-I think his knees just gave way. "Don't say that. Callie, please don't say that."

"It's just a thought," I say quickly. Because I don't want to believe it either. It's the last thing I want to believe. "I don't know if I'm right, or if it's someone else... I mean, I didn't see it..." my voice falters as James gets to his feet unsteadily. "James?"

"Hm?" his eyes find my face but I don't think he really sees me. "I'm okay. Yeah, you could be wrong....I hope you're wrong..." he mumbles. Then he shakes his head. "Sorry, I just don't want to think about that. Ever."

I can only nod. More than ever, I wish I could go back to before the first trip to the surface in eight years, back before I had to worry about war and the enemy wanting to use me and the possibility of James dying. Even if I could go back-I do some quick mental math-seven weeks, I'll still face this day. It's like stopping a premonition-I can push it off, but it will happen.

"You know what's funny?" I say in a strangled voice. "Less than a month ago you and I were sitting down for a game of cards and then we heard an announcement that we could go up to the surface. Then that night, I had the premonition. Now look at where we are. In less than a month!"

"Two months before that, we were celebrating your fourteenth birthday," James says. "How sweet life must've been for you. How sweet and ignorant. Funny how time flies when you feel like your life's in danger, huh?"

James's voice is so bitter I recoil slightly. "James-"

"Don't," he says in a choked voice. "Don't say anything, because it's not going to help at all. This was a happy day. What happened?"

"Are you mad at me?" I ask incredulously.

James looks me straight in the eye. "No, I'm not. I'm mad at fate and other BS that's telling me I'm going to get killed. I'm not mad at the messenger; I'm pissed at the message itself." Then he goes to his room, slamming the door behind him. I stay seated. James is right. Today started off happy. Now we're both miserable and scared, and it's not even noon.