The Keeper's Journal

Chapter Four

Conor opens the door to our room and flops on his bed with a thump.

"That bad?" I ask him adding the final details to my sketch. A large snake with a gaping mouth stares back at me. Venom drips from it's knife like fangs and takes the form of humans. I slam the book shut and shove it under the mattress. This. . . snake monster has been haunting my dreams lately.

"Yes," he mumbles into the pillow, "look at my hands!" He raises an open palm that appears to be rubbed raw and blistering, "and tomorrows my nectar ceremony, which means that I have to help Devin get ready."

"Less complaining you do tomorrow, the more time you'll have to get ready," I tell him stretching.

Conor just groans in response and buries his head deeper into his pillow, "hewi ed he hirs jo?"

"What."

Conor lifts his head up from the pillow, "how did the horses go?"

I grin at the memory, "nice actually. I may never summon a spirit animal, but my ability with horses is close enough."

"Still trying to tame Nix?" Conor asks, speaking about the only pure black horse the Trunswick's own.

"Maybe."

"Didn't he brain someone with his hoove?"

"Yes, but that's not stopping me," I inform Conor with a grin.

"Nothing stops you," Conor says.

"The storm doesn't stop because the mountain is in the way. And stop shoving your face in the pillow. You'll suffocate," I warn Conor throwing my pillow at his face. Without looking he whips it back at me. I grab the discarded pillow and replace it on my bed.

"'Night Conor."

"Goodnight Rache."

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"You can't run forever little girl," the voice calls through the dark tunnels. I skid to a stop and my feet sting in protest. Looking down I realize I don't  have shoes on and behind me bloody footprints reside where I stepped. Looking forward I begin to panic. I took so many turns that I am now hopelessly lost and I am faced with another choice of left or right.

"This is ridiculous. You have to stop," the voice says sickle sweet.

"The storm doesn't stop because the mountain is in the way," I whisper to myself. The vision of my mother telling me that before I left for the manor comforts me.

"Oh, but I'm not a mountain."

Left or right? The voice is closer.

"And you are not a storm."

I can feel the vibrations coming from the body of the voice through the floor.

If it doesn't feel right, go left. Sprinting down the left corridor I outrun my chaser. Out of nowhere a boulder appears in my way, but in my panicked rush I am unable to stop. I ram into the boulder and land on my back. I try to move, but only scream in pain.

"It's a shame. I was having fun." The voice complains, "do you know who I am?"

The owner comes into view. The snake from my nightmares.

"Gerathon," I answer the name bitter in my mouth.

"Correct," the purple snake says rearing up to her full height. Never have I ever felt smaller. Her head just barely scraps the cavern ceiling, "do you know where we are?" She asks slithering closer.

"No," I answer. I didn't want to, but something was forcing me to form the words.

"This is your mind," she says grinning to reveal her long fangs, "and I control it."

She lunges at me and I get swallowed in the darkness of her soul.

I wake up gasping for breath and drenched in sweat. Looking at Conor's bed, I am relieved to see that he is safe and sleeping peacefully. The full moon bathes our room in light, but a shadow appears in the window. On the ground it looks like a snake. Shaking my head I look back at the window and when the figure starts tapping on the window I begrudgingly get out of bed to open it.

When I realize who it is, I freeze in my spot.

"Devin?"