Surrender the Void

  Surrender the Void

  Keepers of the Crypt, Book 1

  Isadora Brown

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  10. Keaton

  Newsletter Information

  Did You Like Surrender the Void?

  Acknowledgments

  1

  It was the darkest Samhain I had ever been part of. It was perfect for the very bad, very forbidden thing I was about to do.

  In Ember Hollow, a dark Samhain was a good thing. It gave me a blanket to work within so I wouldn’t get caught.

  Hopefully.

  I tucked my blonde hair behind my ear before reaching up to take the rim of my witch’s hat and pulling it over my head even more than it already was. There were specks of blood underneath my fingernails. Instead of trying to get it out like I would have, I let it stay.

  It added to the effect of my costume.

  I glanced back at my two best friends, Matilda and Daphne, a few paces behind me. They looked like they wanted to be anywhere but where I was leading them.

  I didn’t care.

  I didn’t turn back to join the festivities even though I could smell the zesty scent of the barmbrack cooking in the outdoor ovens. My stomach rumbled, interrupting the otherwise silent night.

  Daphne hissed through her teeth. “I swear, Kara, you are always hungry,” she said in that unique whisper-yell she was known for. “Your stomach has gotten us into more trouble than anything we’ve ever done.”

  I had nothing to say to that. Whether I liked to admit it or not, Daphne was right. I was surprised she still wanted to tag along on these little adventures I led them into. Granted, these little adventures tended to get us into trouble since they went against the strict code the Crypt Keepers enforced on students who attended their academy. It didn’t matter that we were all twenty or around that age, that we were legal adults, we still had to obey the rules - including the mandatory curfew that was only lifted tonight.

  And we definitely were not allowed in the Hallow Crypt. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I couldn’t count how many rules we were breaking. It had to be a record, even for me.

  But rules hadn’t stopped me before.

  The guilt hadn’t stopped me before, either.

  This place was my home, my sanctuary. After my family and I were attacked by shades – little ghosts that shouldn’t be lethal or threatening – Dean Davidson found me and took me in when I was ten years old. He was the father I lost, giving me a safe place to be, to learn. I had my own room, access to a grand library, and all the food I could ever want. I’d never go hungry, never have to wander through the forest, wondering where I was going to sleep because of him.

  And here I was, ready to betray him all because of something that might be possible.

  “You know,” Mattie said, skipping a few steps to keep up with me. “I don’t think we should be here. I think this is pushing it, even for us.”

  “You helped steal my lock picks back,” I said, my voice nearly overwhelmed by the howling wind that tangled my hair. I clutched the rim of my hat even tighter, glancing around in the dark sky, almost as though I expected shades to peek themselves from the low hanging waxing gibbous moon. “You’re in this, Mattie. Whether you want to be or not.”

  “I’m not saying that,” she said hurriedly. “I’m just saying I’m…” Her voice trailed off as the iron gates came into view, silhouettes against the black blanket of sky.

  “Scared?”

  I didn’t have to look at Daphne to know she was smirking. It wasn’t mean, not exactly. It was probably because she was trying to make herself feel better because she was scared too. Hell, even I was. But that wasn’t going to stop me. This was too important to let fear or guilt stop me.

  “Oh, lay off her, Daphne,” I said.

  “Dean Davidson says the crypt is sacred ground, and stepping inside of it, especially on Samhain is blasphemous,” Mattie said quickly. “And what if we get caught? What then?”

  “Sacred ground?” I shrugged the bag hanging from my shoulder as we stopped just before the gates. “You know what they do here, don’t you? You know why they don’t want anyone to go in unless you’re officially a Keeper, right?”

  “And what’s that?” Daphne asked flatly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Since you seem to know everything.”

  I ignored the chill that swept down my spine. Autumn was in full swing in the small town, and it wasn’t uncommon to see a frost late at night and early in the mornings.

  “They keep souls of the damned here,” I said.

  Mattie looked over at Daphne and the two exchanged a look of disbelief. Mattie’s lip curled down in disbelief.

  “Okay,” Daphne said, rolling her eyes.

  “Sure,” Mattie added.

  “It’s the truth,” I insisted through a hiss. “Where do you think the Hunters put all the shades they’ve captured?”

  “And where did you hear that?” Daphne asked. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been listening to Graham and all his conspiracy theories. You know the guy is like Fox Mulder crazy.”

  “But aliens existed in the X-Files world,” Mattie said, lifting a finger. She nearly stumbled over her feet, trying to talk and rush at the same time. “So…he wasn’t really that crazy.”

  “Thank you,” I said with a smug grin as I pulled out something from my heavy trench coat. It didn’t exactly scream witch but it held my lock picking kit and kept me warm.

  “Wait,” Mattie said, stepping forward and placing her hand over mine. “You can’t possibly be serious. We’re actually breaking into the cemetery?”

  “Not just the cemetery,” I said. “But his crypt.”

  Mattie’s blood drained from her face as she reached for me. I looked over at Daphne. Her eyes went wide and she shot me a pleading look with her sapphire eyes.

  “Kar,” Daphne said, trying to maintain a tone of cool rationality. “Come on. We already stole back your lock picking kit in the biology lab after Professor Horn confiscated it yesterday. You didn’t even let us shower before demanding we get in our costumes so we could blend in with the ceremony. And instead of, I don’t know, doing some kind of seance in the forest like I thought, you want us to break into his crypt? Why would we ever agree to that?”

  “Because I have to know…” I pulled free from Mattie’s touch and pulled out a tool, taking the lock in my hand. “I have to know…”

  “Is this about your brother?” Daphne asked in a low voice. “Kar, your brother -“

  “He has to be somewhere out there, Daphne!” I snapped, not even looking up from the task at hand. “Shades took him. There wasn’t a body found. And based on what I’ve heard -“

  “You mean Graham,” Daphne muttered dryly.

  “They have to be storing the shades somewhere,” I finished. “They’re not even supposed to be vengeful beings. They’re supposed to be annoyances, little things you can scare off with light and fire. Not…malevolent.”

  “Maybe…maybe you saw –“

  “I know what I saw,” I said through clenched teeth. “I know what I saw. And they didn’t kill Richard. They brought him somewhere for something. Maybe they, I don’t know, turned him into a shade.”

  “If that’s even possible,” Mattie said in a tentative voice.

  I froze and slowly carved a line with my nose until my eyes narrowed on my redheaded friend. “There was no body,” I said as though that made it obvious.

  “Look, we just don’t want you to get your hopes up only to be disappointed,” Daphne said. “We know you’ve been searching for years for Richard, but going against the Keepers? It’s like you completely forget that they’re the ones who saved you that night. They took you in and practically raised you. You have a home here. A family.”

  I clenched my teeth together. This was the last thing I wanted to hear. I had enough guilt stored inside of me to last three lifetimes if I wanted; I didn’t need my best friends adding to it.

  I angled my body away from Daphne, away from her knowing eyes, and turned back to the task at hand: getting past the gates and into that crypt.

  It only took a few minutes. I had to slide the flute into the hole and caress it until I heard the telltale click…

  There.

  I smiled. The rusted lock screeched as I pulled it apart, the matching chain slithering like a snake to the ground in an ungrateful lump as noisy as it could possibly be. It was as though everyone was trying to rat me out, to call attention to the fact that I was here on sacred land doing something I definitely shouldn’t be doing.

  “Kar, wait.” Mattie positioned herself between me and the gate hanging open now. She was much bolder than I expected; usually, she was more timid and tagged along without saying anything. “Please. Don’t do this. Think about the consequences.”

  I actually didn’t want to think about the consequences. The only thing I cared about was getting to Richard, finding answers about what happened to him. And I knew - I knew - those answers were behind this gate and very possibly in his crypt.

  “I’m not going back,” I practically snarled. “Not when I’m so close.”

  “Graham is a psycho conspiracy theorist,” Daphne pointed out. “You’re really going to throw everything away for something he said? He was ex
pelled for a reason, Kar, and it’s not because he’s right.”

  “Is it really so easy to risk everything for a whim?” Mattie asked. “To give it all up on a slim chance of maybe being right?”

  “A whim?” I slowly stood up and began to put all of my tools back in the case. “My brother is not a whim.”

  “I didn’t mean -“

  “I’m not going back,” I repeated. I stepped around Mattie, pulling the gate open and stepping in the crypt before I could talk myself out of it. “Come with me, don’t. I don’t care.”

  Lie.

  I did care.

  I wanted them with me more than anything.

  But I couldn't turn back now.

  “But I’m not going back,” I finished.

  I began to walk on the damp dirt trail that led directly to the crypt. I bypassed the gravestones, careful to keep off their sacred space. Whether I believed Graham or not, I had the utmost respect from the dead. Despite my disagreements with the Keepers, this wasn’t something I could fault them for. The dew on the grass clawed at my ankles, trying to get me to turn back.

  I only sped up my pace. I didn’t want to hear if my friends were coming or not. I didn’t want to hear the silence in case they chose to leave me.

  And they should.

  They shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have asked them to come. This whole thing with my brother was on me and me alone. Why should I drag them into it? Why should I risk them and their reputations based on something Graham Wiloughby said? They weren’t wrong about him; the guy was a conspiracy theorist.

  But what he said actually made sense.

  I had to see if he was actually right.

  The hurried movements did little to keep my body warm. The teasing chill from earlier had turned into a full-on comforter, trying to wrap me up in a vice grip. I clenched my teeth together to keep my teeth from chattering.

  I didn’t stop walking until I reached the crypt.

  His crypt.

  Keaton was a heathen through and through. Vile, disgusting, and totally and completely evil to the point where he had to be buried in his own onyx crypt over a pentagram. If that didn’t guarantee his mandatory placement there, I didn’t know what did.

  But Graham said that Keaton wasn’t the only spirit kept inside. In fact, the Keepers housed shades within the crypt, experimenting on them, keeping them inside and using them for their own will.

  Preposterous, everyone else insisted. Shades were released once caught. Either the Keepers sent them to their final resting place or they sent them to Void, somewhere the soul could never be recovered from. Kind of like Purgatory. Keaton was supposed to be in the Void, but the crypt lingered like a stubborn bruise that refused to fade. And here I was, ready to open it just in case…

  What?

  My brother might be there?

  The shades might know where he was?

  And they would talk to me, a Junior Keeper?

  I reached the crypt and tilted my head back to get a look at the looming stone. The cold, dark stone was made from raw onyx, the edges jagged and uneven.

  Numquam excitare impios.

  “Never wake the wicked,” I murmured, repeating the warning the Keepers instilled in us at a young age.

  The words hung overhead, underneath the feet of a lecherous gargoyle who appeared so lifelike, just looking upon made me shudder, made me think he could open his eyes and rip my head from my shoulders.

  “Kar, wait!” Mattie’s voice filled the silence. “You don’t have to do this.”

  I pushed aside the warmth that spread through me upon the realization that my friends were still here, that they hadn’t left me.

  “Yes,” I whispered to myself as I took a step towards the entrance of the crypt. “I do.”

  I placed my hands on the heavy stone door and pulled it open. I stepped through it before they could talk me out of it, and I shut myself inside.

  2

  The silence was overwhelming. It was a terribly cliche thing to experience but I couldn’t help it. It was dark too. I fumbled for my phone, for something to light up, until I remembered I left it charging on my nightstand back in my dorm.

  “Fuck,” I muttered to myself.

  “Well, now, babes, let’s not make promises you can’t keep, know what I’m saying?”

  The voice was low, almost scratchy, but it caused my entire body to paralyze with fear.

  I whirled around. My heart hammered against my chest. The longer I stayed in the crypt, the more my eyes got used to the darkness. I could start to make out the uneven placement of the obsidian, could even see the silhouette of the large sarcophagus placed in the center of the room. I turned again, but no matter how much I looked, I couldn’t see who the voice belonged to.

  “You lookin’ for something?”

  “Who-who are you?” I asked. I had a feeling it was one of the shades Graham insisted was being kept here. If I couldn’t discern a body, a projecting voice had to belong to a shade.

  “Who-who am I?” the voice mocked. I could imagine a sneer on the male face - the voice was unmistakably masculine - and I shivered. Despite the humor in his tone, I wasn’t sure he was happy I was here.

  Shit.

  This was a terrible plan. Why the hell was I here? For Richard? I wasn’t going to get any information now that I had trapped myself in a crypt with a shade.

  I shook my head. Tears threatened to make their appearance but I quickly blinked them away. I refused to cry about a mess I had gotten myself into. I wasn’t going to be a victim. I just needed to figure a way out of here.

  “Where do you think you are, babes?” the shade asked.

  “Look,” I said, holding up my hands. I wasn’t sure if it meant anything, if it would appease the shade. The fact that I hadn’t been attacked yet had to be a good sign. At least, that was how I was going to look at it. “I’m here because -“

  “You’re a fucking idiot,” he said, cutting me off. “Don’t those Keepers tell you to keep out of the cemetery? Don’t you know what you risk by stepping on sacred ground?”

  His voice rose with every word until it filled the crypt. It was so loud, I could swear the onyx vibrates with his wrath. I sucked in a breath, but I couldn’t think of what to do. I wanted to ask about Richard. I wanted to see if there was any way he could help.

  But who was I kidding?

  This guy had no inclination to help me. He already knew what I was. He probably hated me. He thought I was one of them, a Keeper who had locked him up here with the rest of the shades and kept them for -

  I blinked.

  “Are there more of you?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  “…what?” The response was flat. Not quite confused but curious why I would ask such a question.

  “Shades,” I said. There was a heaviness that permeated the crypt. It smelled stuffy, with stale warm air that seemed innocuous but could strangle.

  “Are you some kind of fucking idiot?” the voice asked. “Why the fuck would there be shades in my crypt?”

  My eyes widened. My heart stopped beating. I wasn't sure how long I stood, rooted in place, but it had to have been less than a minute even though it felt so much longer. Had he just said that this was his crypt? Because, if yes, that meant I was talking to Keaton himself. And Keaton was the most dangerous shade known to the Keepers. There was a reason he was locked up in a crypt and it had nothing to do with sacred ground or holiness.

  “Well, Blondie?” Suddenly, the crypt smelt faintly of smoke, almost as though the shade was smoking a cigarette or something.

  Which was crazy.

  Shades were supposed to be intangible. They could haunt. They could drive people insane. But they couldn’t physically do anything unless conjured by a necromancer. And no one had heard of a living, breathing necromancer in the last century.

  But Keaton isn’t a shade, I reminded myself. He’s a heathen. There must be different rules for him.

  “I’m looking for my brother.” I decided the best thing I could do was cut to the chase. If this was Keaton, he was actually talking to me, which meant he might be open to helping me. I was pretty sure he was going to want something in exchange, though I couldn’t guess what that might be.