Recruits (Keeper of the Water Book 2) (35 page)

But the most obvious thing I missed didn’t have to do with Jack at all. From the moment Cassie stepped out of the black truck, she was a different person, her attitude changed drastically. She was more aloof than ever, quiet and contemplative instead of fiery and argumentative. I’d attributed her personality change to shock – we’d been through a lot that day – but now I see that it was more. She was probably deep in thought – possibly remembering key moments from her own past – or trying to look for meaning in everything Celeste and I said in order to confirm the tales Jack must’ve told her.

“For all we know, he’s killed Cassie already,” John adds. “At the very least he probably eliminated Celeste by now.”

The very idea forces the breath from my lungs and makes me feel ill. I witnessed the death of my father – and thought that John suffered the same fate – but the thought of Cassie dying rocks me to the very core. But I quickly recover from the shock of such a suggestion and shake my head.

“Cassie’s still alive… at least for now. I just know it,” I call back to him. I’m not so sure about Celeste but I try to convince myself that she’s okay, too. “I would’ve sensed something if either one of my fellow Amazons was killed.”

“Even though Celeste
and
you aren’t Amazons anymore?” he asks.

I’m sure he doesn’t mean this as an insult but I still feel a twinge of annoyance by the comment. My arms instinctively flex around him and his body tenses from the crush of my strength.

“How could I no longer be the Keeper if my reign only lasted a short time?” I ask, releasing the tension in my arms so he can breathe again. I guess I wouldn’t be doing either of us much good if he passes out.

“You were the Amazon,” he calls back. “You should know the rules of being Keeper.”

As far as I remember, there are only three ways a Keeper loses that position. The first two – 500 years passing or death – obviously didn’t happen so that only leaves abandonment of the water. I realize it’s the only one that makes sense but I still have trouble believing it. Based upon my lone memory of becoming Keeper and the feeling it once gave me, I can’t imagine
any
reason for walking away from it.

“Why would I abandon the water?” I ask.

“I’m sorry,” John says simply.

And then the answer comes to me, like the last page of my life’s novel being opened in my mind…

My senses explode but an overwhelming calmness leaves my soul feeling utterly relaxed. Colors and sounds and feelings are heightened. I know I’m in the jungle but my concentration is solely on the water source just in front of me. Staring into the sparkling blue water allows my soul to experience the flow of life throughout the entire Earth.

Many of the other Amazons are nearby, guarding the water and protecting me. I don’t lift my eyes to look at them but I sense the anger and tension aimed in my direction from one particular area. I have no doubt this is where the Queen Clan stands guard. I also feel the positive energy from my recruits nearby but I don’t look up toward them either. I haven’t been Keeper for long – I’ve lost track of days and weeks since taking over – but I’ve barely been able to look anywhere but the water and the magical pull it seems to have on me. I used to wonder how my Keeper could seem to become lost in watching the water but now it makes perfect sense. In fact, now I’m more in awe that she could ever pull her attention away long enough to make the important decisions for the tribe.

But somewhere in the back of my mind, beyond my awe of the water and my connection with the earth, there’s still one bit of Amazon business I must attend to: Isabella. Since I became Keeper, she’s spent very little time in camp, disappearing for long stretches at a time. At first I wanted to give her the proper time to deal with her emotions after being passed over for the Keeper role. But now it’s time I reach out to her and bridge the gap between her clan and my recruits.

And I must try to do that now. I don’t sense Isabella’s presence at camp but that might be a good way to start. If I can gain acceptance from the other queens, maybe they can convince her to keep the tribe united. If only I could turn away from the spring long enough to address them…

I close my eyes but still see the bright blue of the water. I take a deep breath and slowly turn away from the spring, possibly the most strenuous thing I’ve ever had to do. My heart aches and I want nothing more than to turn back around but I don’t. I open my eyes and look at the Amazons nearby, their auras shining even brighter once they notice that I’ve actually moved. It’s the first time I remember how boring it could be to stand guard to a virtual statue, and how excited I used to get whenever the Keeper turned away from the water.

“My protectors, thank you for guarding me as you did the Keeper before,” I start, addressing every woman before I turn to specifically face the Queen Clan. “I want there to be no animosity between any of us. There’s no longer my side versus Cassie’s side; we are all Amazons and I want to apologize for anything I may have done in the past to foster an environment of hostility. I want to be able to call on each and every one of you and your unique abilities to make our tribe – and especially the water – as safe as possible. I truly hope we can put aside our pasts and focus on making us stronger in the future.”

For a moment, Catherine’s glare eases and the auras around each of the queens glow brighter. The tension fades and I wonder if bridging the gap with them will really be this easy. But I hear the sound of approaching footsteps before anyone else and can sense darkness coming. The Amazons turn around a moment later, just as Isabella emerges into camp.

“Why are you talking to my people?” she snaps at me.

With one question, I realize that giving her time didn’t ease her anger – in fact, it may have made it worse. The glowing around the other queens instantly dims and any progress I made is gone. Isabella’s aura pulses so darkly that I can barely see her. The tension among the group rises higher than it’s been since I became Keeper. The collective anger of those around camp weakens my spirit and I want nothing more than to turn back to my water and let its life force flow through me. But the tribe is facing a pivotal moment and I must prove myself a strong leader worthy of serving Mother Earth.

“Don’t talk to our Keeper like that,” Harriet snaps.

“Or what, slave?” Catherine interjects, clashing her twin swords together as if daring Harriet to challenge her. If I can keep those two from killing each other, it would probably be a bigger feat than keeping the water safe.

“Don’t you have
any
respect for others?” Jane intercedes. Normally she remains quiet and away from internal strife but snapping at the clan means that she’s clearly aligned with our side, whether that was her intention or not.

There is no
our
side,
I remind myself, disappointed that my mind still thinks in those terms.
We are all one, we all share the same goal.

“Please, everyone calm down,” I say, careful not to single out the queens only. “We cannot turn on each other. We are all the same, here to serve the same purpose, just as we were when Cleopatra was our Keeper.”

“When
Queen
Cleopatra was our Keeper,” Isabella corrects me. “She was worthy to lead us, though in the end, she
wasn’t
worthy to choose who should replace her. She turned soft over time, too busy hugging trees and whispering to the winds to figure out what was best for the protection of the water and the future of the Amazons. But I will no longer sit back and allow my queens to follow the ramblings of a false Keeper and the
peasants
she’s chosen to surround herself with. We are better than that; our
history
is better than that.”

Harriet, Mary and Amelia raise their weapons and rush toward the Queen Clan. The
clash
of weaponry fills the air and my spirit shatters. While there’s been bickering among the women for years – probably long before I even joined – this is the first time I’ve known a situation to escalate into violence. Jane and a few other allies step in front of me to shield me from the action but this only makes me more upset.

I raise my hands to the sky and a blast of anger erupts through me. Even though it’s a hot sunny day beyond the canopy of treetops above us, a
crack
of thunder echoes across the sky. I feel the fear that suddenly surrounds me, from the women nearby and the wildlife beyond. When I speak, the Amazons listen –
all
of them.

“Stop this now!” I command, my voice bellowing for miles. The women just stare at me in awe and I’m suddenly ashamed for losing my temper. I look at the water, which has dimmed as much as the auras of several Amazons. But I draw serenity from the water of life and it slowly brightens as my anger abates. When I speak again, my voice is not much louder than a whisper, though nobody else moves a muscle and can hear me just fine. “The fighting ends now; there will be no bloodshed among us.”

“Yes, my Keeper,” Harriet says, lowering her club though she still glares at Catherine.

“Yes, my Keeper,” Amelia agrees.

I turn to each Amazon one at a time – whether involved in the fighting or not – and wait for her to agree with me. Not surprisingly, some are quicker to agree than others. The queens don’t look happy to follow my orders but all weapons are lowered and everyone pledges to maintain peace, even Catherine, who glares at me for several seconds before nodding her head.

Isabella, however, refuses to speak a word to me.

“Everyone please return to your posts and patrols,” I say. The women promptly disperse. A few angry glares are exchanged – mainly between Harriet and Catherine – but no further fights break out, physical or verbal. I turn back to the leader of the Queen Clan. “May I have a few words in private?”

“I don’t have to do anything you tell me,” she says loudly enough for all to hear.

A few of my recruits turn to scowl at Isabella but I shake my head at them and they walk away.

“Please,” I say humbly.

Isabella sighs loudly but steps forward, her eyes growing wider the closer she comes to the water. She assumed she’d be Keeper one day so a part of me is sympathetic that she doesn’t get to experience what I do. My sympathy doesn’t last long.

“Step away from the Keeper job,” she whispers to me so nobody else can hear.

My old self might’ve laughed in her face or had a few choice words about her demand. But now her words upset me. My heart sinks at the mere thought of no longer being Keeper.

“I can’t do that,” I say. “I
won’t
do that. But I won’t hold the past against you. Today’s conflict was unfortunate but I look forward to putting it behind us. I value you as a leader within our tribe and promise to give you a fair chance when I select my replacement.”

Being back near the water has already calmed my nerves and I have much more patience for Isabella’s insolence than I did just moments ago. Still, it’s difficult not to notice the look of disgust on her face as she shakes her head.

“I’m not waiting another 500 years to make the water mine,” Isabella says.

“The water does not belong to me nor will it ever
belong
to you. It is the property of the earth and we are only here to protect it from – ”

“Enough of the mumbo jumbo,” she interrupts. “I’ve been hearing the same rubbish for years; I don’t need to hear it from you, too.”

“It’s not rubbish. But if that’s how you really truly feel about it, maybe it would be best if you left the tribe for good,” I say.

I know about plenty of women who voluntarily left the Amazons but I never heard of anyone being banished. My heart tells me this is the correct decision to make but I’m not off to the peaceful reign I hoped for. I expect Isabella to be enraged by the mere suggestion but her smile tells a different story. I can almost feel the hatred oozing off of her body.

“I don’t think
I
will be going anywhere,” she says.

Isabella removes a small square piece of paper that she hands over to me. The picture of a frightened young woman shows amazing detail and I assume it to be a tiny painting. But there are no brush strokes.

“It’s a photograph,” Isabella says, sensing my confusion. “You used to bring back very crude versions of them from your recruiting journeys but as you can see, they’re quality has improved.”

I don’t think I’d give up being Keeper for anything but I
do
miss being part of the real world sometimes, miss seeing how technology and society have changed. But my curiosity about the enhanced photograph doesn’t last long once I focus on the image of the frightened woman looking back at me. She looks vaguely familiar to me, as does the jungle setting behind her.

“Who is this girl? And why is she being held in the jungle just beyond our camp?” I ask.

“I figure that
now
would be the best time to take over the world,” Isabella of Castille says, ignoring my question while making my stomach sink. “From what I’ve heard, technology has caused a greater change over the last twenty years than it did for several centuries before combined. I think that would make my reign much more interesting. But I can only take over if I have the water at my control.”

I slowly shake my head. I always suspected Cassie of being power hungry before but now she sounds downright delusional.

“I’ll
never
let that happen,” I say. “You can’t force me to leave. And if you killed me, you
know
the water would be destroyed and the other women wouldn’t let you live long enough anyway.”

Isabella has no power over this situation but the smile on her face says otherwise. I’m afraid of what she’ll say next.

“If you don’t willingly walk away from being Keeper, I will kill the young woman in the photograph,” she says.

I look down at the photograph again and see the look of pure terror in the girl’s eyes. I don’t doubt that Isabella will follow through with her threat. I just wish the young woman didn’t look so familiar…

“Taking an innocent life goes against – ”

“Goes against everything the Amazons stand for,” Isabella finishes in a high-pitched voice, mocking me. “Spare me the speech.”

“Your attitude is appalling. And as much as I hate to condemn a total stranger to death, plenty of women have given their lives over the years to protect our sacred water,” I say. “And if you
do
hurt her, just realize that you will
never
have another drop of water again.”

Isabella cackles. “She’s not exactly what you’d call a
total
stranger. I’m sure you remember your little Lizette?”

Just when I thought the idea of not being Keeper is the worst possibly feeling I could have, Isabella makes me feel even worse. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about my two children, wonder about what happened to them and what kind of lives they led. I haven’t seen them in more than a hundred years – and know that they both must’ve died years ago – but I still find myself crying for them. I look at the photograph of the young woman again, checking for any hint of my dear daughter. This woman is much paler than my baby girl and her hair isn’t nearly as dark. But there’s something about her that
is
familiar – though I wish it wasn’t.

“Mr. Clark took guardianship of
both
my kids and I’m certain he gave them a better life than my husband could’ve,” I say. “But I’m sure they’ve both been gone for years.”