Rimwick

Patroling

"This," Bren whispers. "'N this. 'N this."

As he tosses sacks of food into my arms, I heave them towards the Patrol member next to me. My shoulders are trembling from the strain of lifting bags of rice and flour, and the wind is whipping bitterly against the skin that isn't covered by my navy peacoat.

Raiding food trucks is not as exciting as I was lead to believe.

Alright? Felix mouths from the line across from me. I heft a bag into the air, grinning, and then drop it on my foot.

Oops.

There are three lines, one echoing out from each food truck. Bren, Keegan, and another soldier who identifies as Lilith pass the bags down until everyone- except Master Atlas, who holds the torch- is holding one or two sacks in the arms. One Dusker, boasting huge muscles that didn't appear until the darkness, carries six. Others strap some onto the backs of various animals. The rest of the bags are left in the trucks as their steel doors are slammed shut.

Without further instruction, the Duskers begin to disperse, lugging the food into the forest. I look at Felix- he waves me over with his free hand.

"Everyone takes the food back to their clans. We're going to Birchwood; it's where Echo's from."

"Cool."

I don't know what else to say. In part because Felix has just put his hand out to steady my bag of rice, which makes my brain fizzle out, but mostly because I'd never pictured Echo living anywhere other than the school.

I don't know when Midwinter Festival ended, but by the time we get to the small hollow where the Birchwood clan lives, it's filled with people. My arms are aching as I drop my load into the snow, and I rise up with a low groan. I could have done manual labor anyway, without being deemed Keeper. What exactly am I doing here?

"I'll take that, Miss," says a woman with dark hair. She's thin, even for a Dusk Child, and I can see her collarbones jutting out like spikes from a baggy floral dress.

"Are you sure?" I ask, bending to regrab my sack of rice. "I mean, I can-"

The woman gasps. "Miss... are you the one what stood in the wind storm? With the singer, I mean, at festival. Miss Echo, 'n she called you Keeper?"

"Oh. Yes. Where would you like this rice?"

The woman smiles. Her eyes are wet as she takes the bag from me and says, "Thank you, Keeper."

"I didn't-" But she's already walking away, lifting the weighty sack like it's nothing.

It's the same here as it was with The Patrol. People slowly start to swarm over me, descending like locusts, and I'm feeling slightly claustrophobic. Then-

"Miss Keeper? Talo- he says you make boons?"

I look down at the little girl, ebony hair dancing without a breeze to conduct it, gazing hopefully at me.

"Rhythm, please leave Miss Keeper alone..." A dark hand reaches out to guide the child back.

"It's alright." I smile and bend down. "Balloon."

Solemnly, Rhythm watches the red block letters transform into an aerial toy.

"May I touch it?" A boy close to my age with black hair hanging in wisps across glowing green eyes holds his fingers an inch away from the fading balloon.

"Oh- sure."

He hums a note, low and deep, and the tips of his fingers glow green. As he touches my living word, the balloon's red morphs into the same vibrant color as summer leaves.

"Beautiful," I gasp. "That was amazing."

He smiles. "Thank you, Miss."

"Can you do it again?"

He looks surprised, but nods. A slightly higher note paints the next balloon grape purple, and then gaudy orange, then downy white like the clouds of soft snow billowing over the ground. More of the Birchwood clan joins in. A pair of twins stand whistling with their hands interlocked. Everytime they change pitch, a balloon rises or falls. An old couple waltz together and the colorful items gravitate toward them. I'm surrounded by a rainbow of scintillating harmonies, and I'm loving every second.

"Good job." Felix appears through the invigorating blur. "You just made their world."

I shake my head. "I just made the balloons. They did all this." Waving my hand, I indicate the plethora of musical colors.

"No, you didn't," Felix says. "You did something better. You reminded them of what it's like to be alive. You gave them hope."

He turns to me, smiling, and puts his hands on my shoulders.

"Miss Keeper-" someone says, but cuts themself off. I don't see who it is, and I'm too breathless to care.

"Will you do it, Riley?" Felix asks. "Will you be our Keeper?"

"Yes," I say, heart beating like a hummingbird. "Of course, yes. I mean-" I swallow hard, sure he can feel my rapid pulse. "Why not?"

Felix laughs. And then he's not laughing, he's somber, but smiling, and he leans into me. And without fully realizing what he's doing I'm leaning forward too, and he kisses me.

Suddenly I'm okay with being breathless. Because who needs air, anyway?

"Splendid," I mutter idiotically when he pulls away. Someone whistles, and then someone else claps, and I realize that the people here aren't that different from teenagers in the Rimwick High cafeteria. Felix is blushing, but he grins at me, and I smile gingerly at him.

"Welcome, Keeper," Master Atlas roars, "to Nocterem!"

"A' aye!" a soldier calls.

"A' aye!" the cheer is picked up by the rest of the group.

"This is really not an appropriate time," I hiss.

My teacher ignores me.

All the balloons have completely faded, and their absent glow lends the earth to darkness once more. But the Birchwood clan is still laughing, invigorated. One of them starts a tune, and another joins in, until everyone in the hollow is singing the same deep-throated ballad.

"The Keeper came with the blowing leaves

And sang with the wind and danced with the trees

Showed the stars the way to shed more light

With nature's magic and all the earth's might,

The Keeper has come to set the land right."

It's a woodsy song, full of earth and rain, and I feel like it's calling me home.