Drinking Life (Keeper of the Water Book 1) (30 page)

“Stop!” my mom yells but I barely hear her.

Celeste charges at me again but I instinctively take her to the ground and pin her down. But the moment our eyes meet, the fire in her eyes extinguishes and the burst of rage within my chest dissipates. When I realize what I’ve done—when I see the trickle of blood from her nose—I feel awful and immediately jump off her, ashamed.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper in shock.

“I hate you all!” Cassie yells when she’s over the shock of the fight. “You’re
all
freakin’ insane!”

She runs off toward the cabins but nobody makes a move to stop her. Celeste sits up and watches her daughter. She wipes away the blood from her nose but doesn’t appear nearly as angry as I expect.

“I always forget that
you
were the natural fighter, not me,” she says, though I’ve seen the way she handles herself and it’s quite impressive.

“I never should’ve put my hands on you,” I say.

“I don’t care what you do to me. But you are
never
to harm Cassie in any way.
Never
!” she stresses.

I nod, not bothering to explain that I hadn’t meant to snap, hadn’t planned to attack Cassie. Without another word, Celeste begins to walk toward her daughter. But she doesn’t get very far before Mom holds up a hand to stop her.

“I’ll go check on her,” she says reluctantly. It’s clear that Celeste and I are
both
surprised by this offer. “I know, I know. But she probably hates me
the least
right now. And she obviously doesn’t remember anything about the past so she doesn’t need to talk to either of you. Besides, it’s about time the two of you finally have a
serious
talk.”

Celeste nods but Mom has already walked off. An awkward silence hangs in the air between us. There’s so much to discuss but neither of us knows where to begin, knows how to start what I’m sure will be a
long
story. I finally begin with the most pressing question.

“Where did you take John to help?”

“It wouldn’t make sense until you know the
whole
story,” Celeste answers.

“The
whole
story about water that can heal a wound that should cause death? Water that can somehow turn a person young? Water once guarded by a tribe of women fighters? Or the
whole
story about you being a keeper? Whatever
that
even means,” I say, words of frustration flowing out of my mouth. “Are you ever going to trust me with the
big secret
?”

“You may have had some flashes of your past but you don’t know
half
of the story—you don’t even know half of your
own
story,” Celeste says. “And the existence of warrior women and healing waters haven’t remained as secretive as we originally hoped. They’ve both been around for countless centuries so it would be almost impossible to hide them from the world, especially these days. I guess we have technology and Hollywood to thank for that. Actually, I’m sure you’ve known about the water all along but just think of it as a different name.

“The Fountain of Youth.”

“That’s
real
?” I ask in awe, disappointed in myself for never putting two and two together.
Everyone
has heard about the Fountain of Youth in one form or another.

Celeste nods. “And you’ve already seen it at work, the way it can heal wounds. In the proper hands, it’s truly the water of life.”

“That’s why it must be guarded so closely,” I say, as if in a trance. It’s like I’ve heard this before, like it’s ingrained somewhere deep within my subconscious.

“Guarded so closely by
women,
not men,” Celeste adds. “
Most
of us understand that in the wrong hands, this water could be used as a weapon with consequences that could ultimately destroy the world. Could you imagine if Genghis Khan was ever in control of water that could provide eternal life? Or Alexander the Great? Napoleon? Adolf Hitler? Just the
idea
of any of those savages controlling the water gives me the shivers.

“Most people have
also
heard of the protectors of the water, the fierce band of women warriors who help protect the world from catastrophe. The women are better known to the world as Amazons. And
you
are one of them.”

Everything she says makes perfect sense but I’m still filled with more questions than I can possibly organize in my brain. Celeste senses that I’m overwhelmed so she continues.

“Let’s start from
my
beginning then,” she says. “Before John died, he let me know that he told you his real identity, Juan Ponce de Leon. I may as well do the same. In truth, I am over 2,000 years old, much older than Juan and
ancient
compared to you.”

Celeste holds her hand out.

“It’s very nice to meet you again. My name is Cleopatra.”

It’s not every day a person learns that her neighbor—a longtime family friend (and I do stress
longtime
)—is
really
the most famous queen in history. But while I’m surprised by the news, I can’t exactly say I’m as stunned as I should be. Celeste has always been dark, beautiful, exotic-looking, the center of attention amongst any group. I’ve never known her to be with a man but that’s always been her choice; she’s never been shy of options.

Though sultriness is not a trait I’ve ever seen her display, I can still picture Celeste as the best-known seductress the world has ever known. My mind returns to an old history class and I recall what I’ve ever learned about Cleopatra.

“But I thought you died when you forced a snake to bite you?”

“You were shot by an arrow, were you not?” she asks. “And what saved you?”

“The water…”

Celeste nods and proceeds to tell me the
whole
story.

“Amazons and the water were around long before Cleopatra ever came to power, long before I was ever born,” she begins. “In fact, they’ve been around for so long that
I
don’t even know their exact origins. But from the stories I was told when I was a new Amazon several millennia ago, it’s thought the Amazons and the water existed in Greece long before humankind formed civilizations and started wars.

“It was thought to be the water of life, the vein of Earth. But once the ancient Greeks rose to prominence and power was craved by men, the water was moved to a secret location.”

“But how can a fountain of water be moved?” I interrupt.

“The water isn’t actually a fountain, that’s just a myth propagated by the Amazons to confuse anyone who went looking for it. But the water
can
be moved by a single person.”

“The keeper,” I say, more information I instinctively know.

Celeste—or should I start calling her Cleo?—nods. “The keeper was the first person ever thought of as Mother Nature. She is the one responsible for the water, who’s connected to the water, who gives her life to the water. It is a mystical duty of the utmost importance, one that requires many lifetimes of sacrifice and devotion. But similar to the Amazons and the water itself, I do not know how the keeper came to be, I only know the rules she must follow.”

“And what rules are those?” I ask.

“She must remain close to the water at all times, can’t wander away more than a few hundred feet. The keeper has final say over who is chosen to join the Amazons. She also disperses water to the other Amazons to keep them young and strong and ready to guard her. Finally, the keeper chooses where and when to move the water supply. She is the only one who can do that by taking a single scoop of water from its source and placing it somewhere else.”

“What happens to the
rest
of the water after that single scoop is removed and transported away?” I wonder.

“The rest of the water turns back to normal… at least mostly. Have you ever drank water that tasted colder than usual, more refreshing and delicious, but you didn’t quite know why? Most likely it was part of a water source—a spring, a creek, a river—that once held the water of life. Anyone who drinks from these places might receive some small health benefits from the extra life that may linger in the water. It’s especially helpful for someone like you or me who’s drank the
real
water in the past.”

I look down at my hand. I was once unsure whether I’d dreamed about the attack that sliced open my palm but now there’s no doubt in my mind. I’d felt drawn to that water in the nearby mountains, the same water source where my hand ended up being submerged. No
wonder
Celeste had worried about my father’s selection of campsites.

“That’s where you took John,” I say, thinking aloud. “To that spring where we stopped on the tour.”

For once, it looks like
I’ve
surprised
her
.

“I didn’t realize you knew about that. I was foolish to believe that you
just decided to sleep outside our tent
that night. I should’ve known that wasn’t merely a coincidence,” she says, shaking her head. Needless to say, I don’t give her
all
the details of what happened that night. “Anyway, the residual effects from the water weren’t enough to save him from such a severe injury.”

I guess there
is
a big difference between a cut on the hand and an arrow to the chest. A part of me wants to know more details about John’s final moments, about how long he survived or if he suffered in the end. But I don’t want to risk breaking down emotionally when there’s so much else I want to know.

“But Cleopatra was power-hungry herself… er… I guess that was
you
. Sorry.”

“That’s okay, I
was
power hungry at one point in my youth,” she admits without a hint of shame.

“Then why would they make
you
the keeper?”

“They didn’t at first. It took many years of proving my worth as a regular Amazon before I was bestowed with that ultimate honor.”

“Why would they allow you to be an Amazon in the first place?”

“When selecting potential Amazons, there are plenty of characteristics we look for: integrity, strength, appreciation for nature. But the duties an Amazon must fulfill are not always easy for mere Girl Scouts to complete. That’s why there are plenty of women who may have once been… well, I guess
unsavory
is the right word… that were chosen to join our tribe. Some of us changed more than others because of the experience but we were all strong women in one way or another. When it came time for a new keeper to be chosen, the power I once wielded in my previous life made me an ideal candidate for leadership.

“I understood power. I was raised in my life with it. I watched what power did to men. I saw how power caused the murder of Julius Caesar. I saw how man’s pursuit of power ultimately led to the suicide of Marc Antony…
my
Marc Antony…”

Celeste pauses, a far-off gaze in her eye. Cleopatra and Marc Antony shared one of the greatest loves in the history of humankind. Though it’s been several thousand years since his death, it’s obvious she still hasn’t gotten over the loss. That doesn’t bode well for my future ability to get over John.

“I tried to keep Egypt free by using diplomacy—by using my
words
—but the Romans would not listen to reason. Their lust for blood and wealth and power was too much and they denied my attempts for peace. I was ultimately captured, where I waited to be killed.”

“And that’s where the story of the asp comes in,” I recall. “That didn’t really happen?”

Celeste smiles. “We haven’t gotten to that part. As I waited in prison for a certain death—one I was sure would be public and painful—two strong women broke into the prison and overpowered my guards. They were beautiful and strong, showed no fear of the dangerous situation they willingly entered.”

I immediately think of the dead buffalo, of looking up through the tall grassy plains and seeing two confident women looking totally out of place. I have a feeling there are going to be plenty more similarities in our stories.

“The story of how I’d changed into a peaceful woman must’ve gotten out and the women offered me the opportunity to help protect the entire world. They gave me a vial of the bright blue water, a basket of figs with an asp inside and instructions on how to fake my death.”

“So you just dropped your life to join a group of mystery women?” I ask.

“Did I have much choice? It was a difficult decision for me, as it is for every woman who becomes an Amazon. I had children who were in trouble once I was imprisoned but my choice to fake death and join the Amazons was still much easier than it was for most. I was facing certain death—probably worse—so there was nothing I could do to help my kids except have my enemies think I was dead.

“I let the asp bite me and hid the water vial until my captors saw that I was nearly dead. The pain was horrible, unlike anything I’d ever experienced before or since. Sometimes I still wake up in a panic, broken out in a cold sweat, convinced I can feel the poison coursing through my body. I’m surprised I stayed so strong for so long and didn’t drink the water sooner. I was in such a painful, poison-induced haze that it’s probably a miracle I didn’t end up killing myself.

“I was moments from death when my captors finally left me alone for a few moments. I struggled just to breathe let alone retrieve the vial of water from my hiding spot. I somehow managed to drink it down but nothing happened right away and I doubted the women and the water. But then, the pain hit me… well, you know how it feels to be healed.

“I pretended to be dead though I was still afraid they would mutilate my body to make an example of me. But apparently my suicide ruined their plans of making my death a spectacle and instead they sent me to be buried inside the pyramids alongside Marc. But the two women intercepted my body and took me far away.”

“And nobody ever found out?” I ask.

Celeste shakes her head. “Over the years, there’s been a lot of debate about how I really died; it might be morbid but I’ve always gotten a kick out of reading historians argue about facts I know are true. Anyway, Marc Antony’s tomb has never been found to disprove my demise, at least not yet. Archaeologists get closer and closer to discovering it all the time.”

“What happens if they
do
find his tomb and discover he’s alone?”

Celeste shrugs. “There have been plenty of things from history that have gone unsolved—that would just be one more.”

“So what happened next?”

“We ran
far
away,” Celeste says. “Starting in Egypt, we ran through the Roman Empire staying near the Mediterranean Sea. We passed through what is now known as Syria and Turkey, running for days at a time until we reached Greece. I had lived a very privileged life up to that point—some might say pampered—but was in pretty decent shape considering servants did everything for me. But there’s no way I should’ve been able to keep up with the other two women but somehow I could.

“I only drank a small amount of the special water but felt stronger than ever. Still, there were moments when I fell farther back and even lost sight of them. But I instinctively knew where to go, as if any invisible force pulled me in the right direction.”

Again I recall the night of the tour, the way I felt the mysterious pull, how I knew where to find the small spring though I had no memory of it.

“Obviously I had many questions about where we were going and who these women were but the two recruiters weren’t exactly forthcoming with information. Being the most powerful woman in the world, I was not accustomed to being denied anything I asked for. But the women were much stronger than me and I was in no position to argue with them.

“At one point, we finally stopped to rest—more specifically, we stopped so
I
could rest. There was nobody around for miles and we figured nobody would bother us. I was so exhausted that I didn’t even bother trying to ask any more questions. Instead, I fell right to sleep—but that didn’t last long. A slight vibration in the earth beneath me woke me up and a small squadron of Roman soldiers descended upon us. They were shocked to see three beautiful women traveling alone. And I knew by the way they looked at us there was going to be trouble. I’ll never forget the sneer on their leader’s face—the lust in his eyes—as he looked at us.

“
My soldiers and I demand female companionship
, he said politely. But regardless of how well-spoken he was, he did nothing to calm his excited soldiers, who leered at us like the weak prey I
thought
we were. I was terrified…” Celeste stops and chuckles. “That might be the last time I was truly afraid. It’s not a laughing matter considering the way men used to treat women like objects. The thing I regret most during my time as queen is that I didn’t try putting a stop to that kind of lewd behavior.

“I wasn’t used to men acting so aggressively toward me back then—any man who would’ve spoken to me that way when I was queen would’ve ended up with their heads removed from their bodies. I looked to the two women for help when the first soldier approached me but they did nothing. I’ll never forget the way they appeared so calm even though soldiers started to approach them, too.

“But the moment that soldier laid a hand on me, something inside me changed forever. My hand-to-hand combat training
had
been non-existent to that point but I fought with a skill I never expected. It didn’t matter that they were bigger than me and wore heavy armor and wielded massive swords. I was way quicker than them
and
somehow stronger. I knocked out about ten of them before they wised up and all attacked me at once. Eventually they overwhelmed me and held me down but I apparently proved my worth to the other two women by that time.

“They joined the fight—if you could
call
it a fight. Maybe more like a massacre. I may have fought well but they were ferocious. Where I knocked soldiers down or dazed them with my punches, the other two women snapped necks with their attacks. A pile of bodies soon surrounded us but the leader of the soldiers suddenly lunged at the women from behind. I jumped in front of them and was stabbed in my side. One of the women snapped his spine for good measure.