Plagium (Keepers Book 1)

Chapter 20 - In Which the Book is Retrieved

"Oh no," Tracey groaned as the two skidded to a halt in front of her now sunny home. The earlier rain had already begun to lift from the ground in drifts of mist.

"What?" Mittie said, leaning over to get a view of the door. "You didn't forget your keys, did you?"

"No, it's right here," she replied, holding it up for Mittie to see. "But it appears we won't need it. Look," Tracey said as she pushed at the front door. It swung open without a sound.

"Did we forget to lock?" Mittie edged towards the door and stooped to look at the striking plate. "It doesn't appear to be tampered with... Do you think anyone could still be in there?"

"We'll just have to see, won't we?" Tracey nervously said.

Cautiously, Tracey stepped into her foyer. Upon quick inspection, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She silently nodded to Mittie, who followed and quietly shut the door. Mittie made a gesture to the stairs at the end of the foyer, moving her fingers in a walking motion. Tracey, in turn, pointed to the sitting room, then to herself, then back once more to the room. Mittie nodded, and the two split ways.

Tracey crept into the sitting room, her eyes adjusting to the dark room. Although she couldn't see anything out of the ordinary, she was unable to shake the feeling that something was amiss in the room. I shouldn't turn on the lights just yet, Tracey thought, looking at the switch. I have the upper hand here. Mr. Matthews doesn't know my home as I do. A dark mass (of which Tracey had originally thought to be her sofa) at the end of the room shifted. Tracey soundlessly scrambled back, putting distance between herself and the figure.

The figure straightened out to show a silhouette of a tall person. A man? she thought, peering closer. In their hands, was the golden keeper book. Tracey bit back a gasp. Instead, she slowly reached for a throw on a nearby chair and crept towards the figure. Step by step, she approached the figure, who appeared to be attempting to open the book. Tracey willed her breaths to quiet, desperately hoping that they would hear neither it nor her pounding heart. Thankfully, the person seemed to be engrossed in the book, twisting away at the dials on the cover, the gears noisily clacking away. She steeled herself, lifting the large blanket over her head, and then quickly tossed it over the figure's head.

"What—!" the person exclaimed, stumbling forward.

Tracey took no time to think and charged forward into them, grabbing the book from their hands as they unsuccessfully flailed their arms to regain balance. The figure landed in an unceremonious heap on the floor. They groaned. "Next time, you should run once you find what you're searching for," Tracey said.

"Next time," the person growled in return, slowly pushing themselves up into a sitting position. "You should check to see if an intruder is armed."

"Oh," Tracey started. She blinked. "Are you?"

"...no," they finally replied. "But I can run!"

"What?"

Within the short span of a few seconds, the figure sprung to their feet, stumbled over a table, paused to toss off the blanket, and dashed through the foyer and out the house. Tracey stared, mouth agape.

"Tracey?" Mittie called. She pounded down the stairs. "I heard something. Is everything alright?"

"No...," she dazedly replied. "Well...," Tracey looked down to Mr. Porter's book in her hands, "I suppose it could be worse?"

"What happened?" Mittie said as she ran into the room. She quickly located the switch and turned on the light, looking around at the mess in the room. "Gears, you'd think someone attacked you, Trace!"