Keeper of the Books (Keeper of the Books, Book 1) (25 page)

“It’s funny that I fell into a book and you consider yourself part of a story,” Nate observed.
 

“Why is that funny?” Alban asked with a wry smile. “Are you not part of a story where you are from? Are we not all part of some story?”

“That ain’t how I look at it,” Nate said. “I think days go by and we have some choices to make. Good or bad, it doesn’t matter much. When we die, we die. Living is just breathing.”

“What a bleak worldview you have,” Alban said, his head shaking with disapproval. “I believe the Author put the four of us together for a reason.”

“The Author?”

“Yes,” Alban said. “People don’t speak of him as much as they used to. More and more there is a growing sense of unbelief among the people of Galamore. Many are starting to think we are left to our own devices; that our outcome is random and meaningless. A lot more think the way you do.”

“And you think everything happens for a reason,” Nate said, staring forward.

Alban nodded. “I believe there are directions we are supposed to take in our lives. I don’t believe there are accidents. I don’t think it was an accident that our paths crossed. Nor do I think it is an accident that you saved Marum’s life.”

Nate cleared his throat. “So, you’ve known Cara a long time?”

“No one really knows her at all,” Alban answered. “She is mysterious. Sometimes elusive. But she has never hidden herself from me.”

It felt preposterous that going to a foreseer might give him the answers he sought, but was it not also preposterous that he had met a gray elf—that he had fallen into this strange land in the first place? He decided that it would do no good to be skeptical of anything he might encounter in Galamore. This Cara might hold the answers he needed. Or at least she might be able to point him in the right direction.

The wheels of the cart rolled slowly along the dirt path, kicking up only small amounts of dust, leaving a short tunnel of clouds behind them as they went. After another silent hour of traveling, Nate saw a small shack in the distance. Alban pulled on the reins slightly, ordering the horse to veer off the path while Marum followed closely with the other horse. They moved toward the dilapidated building until the four of them were parked in front of it.
 

“Well,” Alban said, breaking the silence. “This is it. She’s not expecting us, so I hope she’s here.”

“If she has the power you claim she has, won’t she be expecting us?” One of Nate’s eyebrows lifted when he said this.

Alban shook his head as he stood and climbed down from the cart. “Your tongue will get you into trouble someday. It might be best if you let me do the talking.”

Nate said nothing, but agreed silently. He did not know what he would say to the woman anyway.

He got off the cart and as a true gentleman he stepped to the back to offer Rachel a hand. Rachel looked at it, pointed her nose up in the air and jumped from the cart, ignoring Nate’s gesture.

“The independent type,” Nate said.
 

“If I had needed your help, Mr. Cole, I would have asked for it.”

Nate took the comment with a smile and trailed behind them as the others walked toward the door of the shack.
 

Nate took in the surroundings as he usually did when coming up on an unfamiliar place. Small puffs of smoke blew out from the top of a small chimney. The fence around the yard was in disrepair. He noticed a fat cat sitting on one of the posts, staring at him as if he were the only one out of the group to be suspect. The blue eyes followed him all the way to the doorstep, giving Nate the feeling that the cat knew something he didn’t.

“Are you ready?” Alban asked, turning to him.

“Are you?” Nate asked.
 

“I have nothing to fear.”

“Should I have something to fear?”

“I understand my fate,” Alban said. “I know where I come from, and I know where I will end up.”

“Do you?” Nate asked. “Did Cara tell you of this?”

“No, I just have a good idea,” he said. “I run a tiny farm north of Tel Haven. I come in to the city once a week to sell my goods. That is my life. There is usually only one ending to a man like me.”

“And what kind of ending is that?”

“A quiet one,” Alban said. “You, on the other hand, don’t even know where you are. You’re on the run from the law, yet you’re after another outlaw. Your end might not be so quiet.”

“Perhaps my end isn’t as near as you seem to think it is,” Nate came back.
 

“Let us hope it isn’t,” Alban said. “But at the rate you’re going, we both know it won’t be quiet.”

Alban smiled when he said this, but it unnerved Nate so much that he took a step away from the porch and looked back in the yard. The cat that had been watching him from the fencepost was no longer there. He looked in every direction but saw no sign of the creature. It must have seen a mouse scurrying across the ground and gone after it.

Alban knocked on the door loudly. The impact of his fist against the wood echoed through the house beyond, giving it a feeling of emptiness. Apart from the smoke coming out the top, it looked like the place was abandoned, but it took only a few moments before the door opened and the form of a woman stood in the crack. All Nate could see from the outside light was a nose poking through the shadows.
 

“Who is it?” the woman asked.
 

Nate wondered why she didn’t already know who had come knocking at her door.
 

“Perhaps I
do
know, Nathaniel Cole,” the woman said, opening the door wider. The light revealed a woman about a foot shorter than Nate with wild black hair ruffled out in every direction. Her long nose gave her the appearance of a witch, but her clothing hung on her frame more like a gypsy. She was a good twenty years older than Nate, and perhaps ten years younger than Alban.
 

“How did you know my name?” Nate asked.

The woman shook her head. “What is it you want me to say? You already know why you’re here. Alban has already told you what I am. Do you want me to tell you that I’m a good guesser? Do you want me to tell you that Alban came here in the middle of the night and told me everything he knew about you so I could appear to be a better foreseer than I already am?”

Nate looked sharply at Alban, but the old man shook his head.
 

“Bah,” the woman waved her hand through the air. “I haven’t seen Alban in months.” She looked at him. “How are you, sweetie? Are the raccoons still giving you trouble?”

“I told them if they didn’t stop stealing my crops that I would report them to the law.”

“And you haven’t seen them since, have you?” she asked.
 

“Not since, though they did start nabbing the crops of my neighbor a few miles up the road.”

She looked at Nate. “Sometimes even the bright animals aren’t so bright.” She sighed, then her eyes traveled to the others standing on the porch. “By the Author!” she said with a smile. “Marum Rocha. It has been far too long.”

Marum smiled and dipped her head. “It’s good to see you.”

“And Rachel,” Cara sighed. “As lovely as ever, dear. I hope you’re still practicing your songs.”

Rachel’s eyes flitted to Nate for a brief second and he smiled at her. Her cheeks turned a shade of crimson as she said, “It’s good to see you.”

 
“Well, come in, come in. The air is brisk in this part of the woods. I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”

Nate looked at Alban and he motioned for him to follow Cara into the house. Cara walked through, lighting candles along the way. The tiny, dancing flames ushered in a bit of comfort, making the house look more like a home than before. However, the furniture throughout was stiff and most of the pieces lacked cushions. The few pictures along the walls tilted unevenly. Chipped paint and holes in the walls revealed light from the outside. No wonder the house felt so cold. Cara led them to the living room where the dying coals in the fireplace were begging to be fed. She added two logs and stoked the fire, blowing on them until a healthy flame began chewing away at the dried bark.

Cara warmed her hands for a moment over the fire then motioned for the four of them to have a seat behind her on a couch filled with patches. Nate and Alban took the ends while Marum and Rachel sat between them, Rachel nearest to Nate. “It’s too cold in these woods,” Cara said. “It can be a blazing summer everywhere else but feel like the first day of winter here.”

“So, why don’t you move?” Nate asked. He felt a sharp poke in his ribs from Rachel. Nate looked at her, but she kept her stare forward.
 

Cara turned slowly, looking Nate in the eyes as she pulled a chair close to the fire across from the four of them. “People don’t always have a choice of where they can stay. Many of us aren’t what you’d call conventional. If you can stand to live here in the wilderness, you are already too different to live among the
normal
in Tel Haven.” She turned her eyes to stare into the fire. “Besides, I like the cold.”

 
The five of them sat in silence for a long moment. Rachel looked at Alban, hoping he would say something to Cara to get her started, but he only stared into the fire in front of them. Finally, Cara broke the silence and looked directly at Nate.
 

“You aren’t the first person to come into my home asking for direction,” she said.
 

“I’m sure they at least knew where they had come from,” Nate said.
 

Cara smiled at him. “But you
do
know where you come from, Nathaniel. Just because others cannot understand where you come from doesn’t mean you don’t know how you got here.”

Nate wondered if Cara knew that he and fallen into the strange book in Texas. He wondered if she knew about Tyler Montgomery. He wondered if the Foreseer would think him mad to say so.
 

“Even I don’t understand where you come from,” Cara continued. “The moment I saw you, flashes of The Ancient Books flickered through my mind, but I can’t make sense of it. I know you spoiled the execution of Marum. It came as no surprise to find you at my doorstep this morning.”

“Does anything surprise a foreseer?” Nate asked.
 

Cara grinned at this and looked at Alban. “He’s a smart one, Alban.
 

“He has a sharp tongue,” the man answered.
 

Nate ignored their comments. “I don’t care about any of this. I just need to figure out where my brother is and how I can get home.”

“Well,” Cara said, “you
should
care about these things. Your actions, whether purposeful or not, will carry consequences. What those are is beyond my ability to know right now, but when you break the law, you find trouble. When you have Rangers looking for you, life is dangerous. You are quickly making yourself an enemy of the president. You might be wise to mend these wounds or burn these bridges before you find yourself on the wrong end of a rope.” She sighed deeply, looked at the floor, then back up at Nate. “You want me to tell you where to go from here.”
 

“Yes,” Nate said. “Alban said you would be able to help me.”

“Alban thinks more of me than I really am,” she said as she stood and grabbed the fire poker. She bent forward in front of the flaming logs and positioned them so she could add a third. “I don’t make it a habit of telling people what they should do versus what may happen.”

“Then what can you tell me?” Nate asked a bit too anxiously. He sat straighter on the couch, his fingers clasped together.
 

Cara placed the third log on the fire and walked to another wooden chair on the other side of the room. She lifted it and set it across from her wooden chair so the two of them sat parallel to the fire and the others on the couch. “Sit here,” Cara said. She sat in a chair and Nate did what she told him. He left the three on the couch and sat across from Cara, the chair creaking below him. “Hold out your hand.”

Nate looked at Alban, but he only nodded to tell him it was all right. He didn’t need assurances from the man, but there was a part of him that felt nervous. He held out his left hand for Cara to grab.

“The other one,” Cara said.
 

Nate dropped his left hand and then held out his right. Cara grabbed his hand and stared into it for a long moment. The only sound was the crackling of the burning logs. The added heat from the extra log made Nate sweat above his eyebrows.

“You know, I don’t have to look at a person’s hand to gather images from the future, but it sure helps,” she said. “Interesting.”

“What?”

“You truly are not from around here,” she said. “The fact that your past and much of your future is clouded, shows me that you are not even of this world.” She looked up from Nate’s palm to his eyes. “I cannot see into other worlds.” She looked back down to Nate’s palm. “You have a dark future here in Galamore, Sojourner. Dark and powerful. You may have encounters with the president in the future.” Cara’s eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head. “I see that
The Book of Life
is in your future. You will read the book, go into it.”

Cara dropped Nate’s hand and stood suddenly.
 

“What?” Nate asked. “What’s wrong?”

“There is a man after you,” she said.
 

“Yes, the Rangers,” Nate said.
 

Cara shook her head. “A bounty hunter. Levi Thompson.”

“He’s here?”

“Here and on your trail,” she said.
 

She reached for his hand again and gasped. Her eyebrows fell low and she let go of his hand again as she sat slowly in her chair and sighed deeply. “Oh, Sojourner…”

“What?” Nate felt red in the face, anger crawling into him. He hated how slow, how elusive she was being.

Cara looked at Alban and the others, then back at Nate. “As I said, I cannot see into the world from which you came, but I can see the things of this world. You hide a dark past. And you have lied to your travel companions.”

Nate felt himself freeze. He didn’t want to look at the others, but he could feel their eyes on him.