The Reader - Chapter 14

Chapter 14 

Emmeline felt herself crumple to the ground. 

“What a wonderful joke,” Newt muttered, glaring at Lena. “But seriously, where is he?” 

Lena shook her head. “It wasn’t a joke. The Ancient Reader was sleeping upstairs in his own private quarters at the top of the tower. I don't know what happened, because the murderer would’ve had to get past me to proceed upstairs. When I woke up the next morning, his throat was slit. He’s gone.” 

“No!” Emmeline cried out. “That can’t be right. Ibenily told us he was here! She told us we could find him and he could help us.” It felt like everything in her had shattered. Beckett touched her shoulder, but Emmeline pushed him away. 

Was this quest all for nothing? If she couldn’t learn to Write she couldn’t Write Beckett and stop the war. Baelle would win and everyone would die. 

“I think it’s best we get some rest, Echo,” Newt whispered to her. “We’ve had a long day and we need to think about this before we do something irrational.” His voice was calm, too calm. Emmeline felt anger rising in her chest. 

“Newt, you don’t understand. The Ancient Reader was supposed to tell me everything. He was supposed to teach me and train me. How am I supposed to stop the war when I have no idea what I’m doing?” Emmeline knew it was wrong to take out her anger on Newt, but she didn’t know what else to do. 

“Emmeline,” Beckett said, his voice rising with panic. “We can still stop the war.” 

“No, we can’t!” Emmeline heard herself yell. “I can’t. This all falls on my shoulders - every single person in the Kingdoms is depending on me to stop the war and… and I can’t even hold myself together. How am I supposed to Write if I don’t know how?” 

“That’s the second time someone mentioned Writing,” Newt noted. “Would anyone like to explain what Writing means?” 

“Emmeline can Read people, but she can also Write people,” Beckett explained. “She can change a person’s past or future, but she doesn’t know how. The Ancient Reader was supposed to help her learn how to Write.” 

Newt thought about this for a moment. Then he grabbed Emmeline’s hands and looked her in the eyes, a pleading expression on his face. “Emmeline, did you even think about this? Writing isn’t going to save us.” 

“What do you mean?” Emmeline stuttered, a fear overwhelming her anger. 

Newt shocked his head in exasperation. “You think you can Write the war out of Beckett’s future? Well there’s probably war in everyone’s futures. Writing one person won’t help us and you can’t Write everybody.” 

Shock filled Emmeline’s stomach, but she knew Newt was right. What had she been thinking? Writing a war out of Beckett’s future wouldn’t change everything for everyone else. 

“She could Write my past,” Beckett suggested. “She could Write my parents to be different or she could…” his voice caught. “She could Write me out of existence, and then the Kingdoms would have nothing to go to war over.” 

“Let’s not talk about this right now when I still don’t know how I’ll ever learn to Write,” Emmeline argued. “Because apparently I’m the last Reader left.” 

“We should all get some sleep,” Lena suggested. “You are all exhausted and not thinking clearly. I might have a solution, but I need to make sure you’re allowed to even be here first. So go upstairs and sleep. I’ll have food by the time you wake tomorrow.” 

There was no argument there. Emmeline knew Lena would probably force them to bed like a mother no matter what they did. 

Reluctantly, Emmeline headed up the stairs. Newt and Beckett were on her tail. 

There were actually six beds in the room, three on one wall of the long room and three on the other. There was a large window at the end of the room - it looked out over the village. Forrest was asleep on the bed closest to the staircase, Clara asleep in the bed across from that. Coral had set up next to Forrest’s bed. 

“Look!” she exclaimed when she saw them approaching. “All of our stuff is here - Lena must have gotten it back after we were taken prisoner. And she left a note on where to find the stable with our horses.” 

“That’s great, Coral,” Emmeline tried to mask her indifference. 

“What did Lena tell you guys?” Coral asked her, looking up expectantly. Emmeline kept quiet as she perched on the side of the bed closest to the window. 

“I’ll explain,” Newt said, and immediately set into an explanation. 

Emmeline untied her boots and sat them on the ground beside her. It was nice to finally sleep in a bed for once. She didn’t hear the end of Newt’s story as darkness set in. 

The dreams overwhelmed her at once, but for the first time Emmeline didn’t care. 

The roof was warm from the sun, but it didn’t quite erase the chill of the morning air. 

It was midmorning but Emmeline didn’t feel like doing much of anything. Lena had brought them breakfast - and Emmeline thought it might have been the best meal she had ever tasted. The bread was still warm and the butter was fresh. It was more than delicious. 

Forrest had barely been able to stand when Lena had returned with the meal. Coral helped him hobble down the steps but he still nearly tripped and fell. Clara sat with him, attempting to heal him more but it became clear that she had done her best and the rest of Forrest’s recovery would have to happen at normal speed. 

Beckett and Newt were quiet, making small remarks about the taste. Lena smiled at them, informing them that her request for their innocence was being considered by the Elders. Apparently, the Elders knew that Emmeline and her friends were staying at the old Reader tower. 

After breakfast was done, Emmeline snuck away to the roof. She wanted time alone to think. 

The Ancient Reader was dead and Emmeline had no way of learning about Writing. It seemed to her like she was a failure, if she hadn’t been sidetracked from her quest maybe they wouldn’t be in this position … 

“Any room for two?” a voice asked from the door that led to the roof. 

“Newt, I’m not really in the mood for your drama right now,” Emmeline told him, not even turning to look. 

“And I’m not in the mood for you to freeze to death up here,” Newt replied with a smirk. Emmeline rolled her eyes, trying not to draw her new cloak tighter around her. Lena had bought them all a new outfit to help them blend in closer. 

It was nice to have a fresh outfit, even if Lena had chosen a dress instead of a tunic. The thought was nice, and that was what counted. Emmeline had come to the roof in her new white dress, black leggings, and gray cloak. She had left her boots beside her bed, letting her bare feet exposed to the fresh air. 

Newt took a seat beside her, silvery eyes scanning the horizons, blonde hair blowing gently in the wind. “I’m serious, Em, I don’t want to have to scrape your frozen body off of the roof.” 

Em. He had called her Em. 

Emmeline tried to ignore his new development. “How is Forrest?” 

“They’re all bored out of their minds,” Newt replied. “Forrest is attempting to use his sword but Coral keeps telling him no. She won’t even leave him alone for a second - I think she’s terrified that he’ll get worse. Clara and Beckett are trying to persuade Lena to take them to the Elders. They want something to do since the quest was a…” his voice trailed off. 

“Failure,” Emmeline finished for him, filling the word with as much disgust as she could muster. “If you’re here to tell me I’m a failure, please go away. I know the quest is a fail and we’re all going to die.” 

“Actually, I was just going to say it’s not entirely your fault,” Newt shrugged. “And I was also going to mention how far up we are. Hope you have good balance.” 

Emmeline didn’t laugh. “It is my fault, Newt. It was my idea to go after Beckett. It was my idea to even try Writing - and you pointed out that Writing might not even work. I’m supposed to lead all of you, but all this time I’ve been running in the wrong direction after a false hope. Forrest is injured because of me.” 

“We’re in this together, Em,” Newt said. There was the nickname again. “If I wanted a life of safety and leisure I would have stayed at Zoro’s. But I came with you because I had a real hope. I knew we could do something to change the world, and we have.” 

“What have we changed?” Emmeline cried out. “What have we done to change the world?” 

“We saved Beckett,” Newt pointed out. “We made it to Layene and we have a rebel force at our fingertips.” Newt’s words were reassuring, but Emmeline could feel doubt creeping into her thoughts. 

“Newt, all of this time I’ve been learning about myself.” Emmeline wrapped her cloak even tighter around her. “I’ve been learning what I’m scared of and what I can do. And I learned that I think I’m supposed to be the hero. I’m supposed to be the one to stop the war, the one to save Beckett, the one who the Goddesses chose as their pawn. But if I’m supposed to be the hero, why don’t I feel like one? I’m not brave, or pretty, or strong, or even powerful. I’m just some scared little girl who was thrown into this mess with no clue what to do.” 

Newt was silent for a moment. “You’re right,” he said, “you might not feel brave, pretty, strong, or powerful. But that’s not what makes a hero a hero. No, a hero is someone who is willing to leave comfort just to stop conflict. You might not think of yourself as brave, but you literally dropped your entire life so you could save Beckett. You might not think of yourself as strong, but you endured Reading all of these years and none of us have done that. And you might not see yourself as powerful, but you’ve led us on this quest and pushed through danger. If you’re not a hero, then no one is.” 

Emmeline was silent too. No one had ever said words like that to her before. No one had ever told her she was a hero - and Newt had basically just said she was pretty. 

“Thank you, Newt,” Emmeline whispered. “If anyone is a hero, it would be you.” 

“Aw, c’mon, you don’t mean that,” Newt laughed. 

“I do,” Emmeline said, her voice full of determination. “You’ve stayed with me through all of this.” 

“I have no intention of leaving you to face this alone,” Newt said, his voice softer than Emmeline had been expecting. Newt was always a jokester, but here he was … almost tender? Kind? 

The words meant so much to Emmeline. After all she had been through, Newt was still with her. She sniffled once, trying to hold back the tears that had worked their way into her eyes. The tears were from all of the pain, all of the secrets, all of the failure she had been holding on to. 

“Come here,” Newt said, wrapping her up in his arms. Emmeline pulled herself closer to Newt, holding onto his cloak and his shoulder like he was the only thing anchoring her to the world. “Poor, poor, Emmeline,” he whispered. Emmeline ignored the mocking tone and laid her head on his chest. Newt radiated warmth in the cool breeze of the roof. She clutched him like a child clutched blanket. 

They sat on the roof like that for what seemed like forever until Newt startled. “Shoot!” he exclaimed. “I forgot the reason I came up here. Beckett has an idea for how to teach you Writing!” 

“What are you waiting for?” Emmeline leaping to her feet and filled with hope. “Let’s go!” 

“What are we doing in the Ancient Reader’s bedroom?” Lena asked, crossing her arms. “You know what, with your crew I don’t even think I should be surprised anymore.” 

“You see, I had this idea…” Beckett said, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “Last night when Newt was retelling our story to Lena he mentioned the Library of Knowledge and performing talents for Ibenily. That’s when inspiration struck me. Thank me now.” 

“Get on with it,” Newt waved his hand impatiently. “Enough with the fancy speak, Beck.” 

Beckett grumbled something to himself before speaking. “As I was saying, inspiration struck me when Newt said he summoned someone from Emmeline’s past. If he can summon dead people due to his Curse or Blessing or whatever, why can’t he summon the Ancient Reader?” 

Emmeline was a bit surprised by the idea Beckett had suggested. It was definitely an option, and it seemed like it might work. 

“You’re a genius, Beck!” Clara cried out, clapping her hands together. 

“I’ve got to give it to you, little man, that’s one smart idea.” Forrest was leaning against the doorframe for support, but color had returned to his face.

Newt thought for a moment. “I suppose it might work, if my talent works right of course. Sometimes it gets a bit … funky.” Emmeline knew firsthand that Newt’s summonings didn’t always go as planned. 

“Try, please,” Emmeline begged. She was desperate - desperate for something to work right. She needed to learn to Write. 

Newt nodded, before grinning sheepishly at the group. “If you guys could … I don’t know how to put this nicely. Can you leave? Everyone except Emmeline and Beckett - only because it was his idea.” 

Forrest rolled his eyes, but Coral helped him out of the room. Lena and Clara headed out with a promise to make lunch soon, leaving Newt and Beckett and Emmeline alone. 

“Alright, death boy, do your magic,” Beckett grinned maliciously and Emmeline stifled a laugh. 

“If you call me death boy I’m going to call you Prince Purge,” Newt threatened, but Emmeline knew he wouldn’t follow through with it. Despite his grumblings, Newt cared for the young prince. 

Newt was still for a moment before he seemed to ripple and his eyes rolled back in his head. His knees locked and a white mist began to form above a small stone in the back of the room. It took Emmeline a moment to realize it wasn’t a stone, it was a bone of sorts. She swallowed her disgust and tried to remain brave. 

The white mist formed a man - and Emmeline was surprised. 

She had been expecting the Ancient Reader to be an older man with no hair and wrinkled skin. The Ancient Reader was actually a younger man with darker skin. He looked to be in his thirties, but not much older. Yet his eyes glistened with wisdom that could only come from centuries of knowledge. 

He cracked his knuckles once, rolled his neck, and then gazed around the room. Finally he spoke, his voice rich and musical. “That’s enough, young one.” 

Emmeline wasn’t sure who he was talking to until Newt took a step backwards, his eyes back to normal. What was going on? Newt had to keep his talent working for the phantom to continue to exist. Or did he? 

“Wha-” Newt gasped, echoing Emmeline’s thoughts. “How is he doing that?” 

“Your power goes stronger,” the Ancient Reader. Then the man turned to Emmeline, gazing at her with deep thought. “Just as you learn many things when you are unfortunately murdered in your sleep. You, my dear, are a Reader, are you not?” 

Emmeline felt her voice catch in her throat. “Yes, Ancient Reader, sir.” 

“Ancient Reader?” the man coughed, doubling over in laughter. “Ancient Reader? My name is Wiley, my dear, call me Wiley.” 

“You don’t look old,” Beckett said, rather rudely in Emmeline’s opinion. But she couldn’t exactly chastise him in front of this ghost. “Are you the right person, or did death boy summon the wrong person?” 

The man laughed even harder. Wiley laughed even harder. “Magic, Prince Beckett. Magic lets me appear in my younger form, just as it allows me to know you, your story, your future, and just about everything.” Emmeline wondered if Wiley was ever humble in life, or had cockiness been a new revelation. 

“Sir,” Emmeline interrupted. “I don’t mean to be rude, but…” 

“But you want to learn to Write and you would rather not wait,” Wiley finished with a smile. “We’ll get to that in a minute, don’t fret.” 

“You and Ibenily would get along great,” Newt mumbled under his breath. 

“She and I have been friends since, well, I don’t exactly have the best memory,” Wiley sighed, deep in thought. “Doesn’t matter, I suppose we should start training.” 

“Training?” Emmeline asked. 

“Well, my dear, did you think I would hand you a pen and say Write?” Wiley snorted. “Are you daft?” He laughed mercilessly and Emmeline felt her cheeks flaming. She hadn’t expected the Ancient Reader to be so open. Wiley had no filter. 

“I wasn’t told any of the details,” Emmeline argued, trying to defend herself. 

Wiley sighed. “I’m kidding, my dear. But of course you must train, it will take a fair amount of time.” 

“What do I have to learn?” Emmeline asked, feeling determined to learn quickly. 

“Much,” Wiley responded. “You have much to learn. You will learn how to correctly interpret the markings on the skin, you will learn what each marking means. You will learn to harness the power buried deep inside of you to protect yourself. It sounds like a lot, and it is.” 

“Let’s get started,” Emmeline decided. 

“So eager,” Wiley chortled. “You must give me time to prepare - this will be your classroom.” He glanced out the window. “It is noon now, come to me at two o’clock sharp and I will be ready. Until then, I suggest you find your friends here a way to train as well. I may be dead, but I’m not behind the times. War is approaching and you must be ready! Now get out.” 

Wiley didn’t give them time to react, he pushed them all out the door with surprising soldity. Then he slammed the door and Emmeline could hear him laughing from inside the room. “Well, that was interesting,” she remarked to Newt and Beckett. 

“That’s one way to put it,” Beckett sighed. “I like him though. I think he can really teach Emmeline well.” 

“As for us,” Newt said, patting Beckett on the head. “We need to train up. Wiley was right - we have a war ahead of us - unless Emmeline can stop it - and we don’t want to be the first casualties.” 

“Where do you suppose you’re going to find someone to train you?” Emmeline asked, crossing her arms. 

“I have an idea,” Newt said with a wink. Then he disappeared down the steps, Emmeline and Beckett on his tail. 

Newt’s idea for training turned out to be very, very ambitious in Emmeline’s opinion.  

He and Lena had disappeared for a long time before they knocked on the door and beckoned Emmeline and her remaining friends outside. Emmeline was pleasantly surprised by the scene that welcomed her. 

Newt had decided the entire village needed to start training. And as for who would be teaching the lessons? 

About thirty phantoms floated in the street beside a proud looking Newt. Each of the misty figures wore the garb of a soldier, thick armor and swords and spears at their sides. Each one sported a determined look as well. 

Of course, the entire village wasn’t training yet. The Elders still hadn’t approved Emmeline and her friends to stay, so they started with a small group. 

Everyone Emmeline had grown up with - the circus crew - they were all ready to train. Titus was holding a flaming sword in his hand. Mac and Midnight were standing side by side, their spears upright. Even Marlene and Violet were participating. Even more surprising was Willow, who had never really done anything helpful before in her life. She looked uneasy holding a bow in her hands, a quiver of arrows on her back. 

“Echo!” Willow cried out when she saw Emmeline. The older girl ran over to her, wrapping her arms around Emmeline’s shoulders. “I thought the Slavers got you.” 

“I’m alive and well,” Emmeline said weakly, pushing Willow off. “I thought you were probably dead too.” 

“My father didn’t survive,” Willow admitted. Titus had already told Emmeline that, but she decided not to mention it. Especially not the fact that Titus had been the one to kill him. “We were attacked by a group of soldiers who wanted, well, they wanted you. When we told them you weren’t there and we thought you were dead they accused us of lying and tried to kill us. We fought back and most of us made it out alive.” 

Emmeline nodded politely, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. It was her fault that Willow was here and not in the caravan where she belonged. Not to mention Willow had said some of them hadn’t made it out alive… 

“Everyone, take a soldier and go somewhere more private,” Newt called out. “They’ll teach you tactics.” 

“There’s an empty farm field where the plants won’t grow,” Lena suggested. “Just over the hill over there.” She gestured towards the section of town where the houses were shorter. Titus let out a yelp of excitement and ran straight towards the fields, giddily skipping. The phantoms followed, laughing and soon everyone except Lena and Emmeline had gone off to practice their skills. 

“Emmeline, aren’t you going to join them?” Lena asked at last.
“I have to train with Wiley,” Emmeline said. She was a bit bummed that she wouldn’t get to hang out with her friends. But she knew she had her own training to do. Emmeline noticed that Lena shifted uncomfortably at the name, so she changed the subject. “Are you going to join them?”
“Meeting with the Elders,” Lena sighed. “Best get going.” 

Her words were short and clipped, and then Lena hurried away before Emmeline could say goodbye. So with no one left to talk to, she turned tail and began making her way to her lessons with Wiley. She didn’t know what to expect, but she knew she now had hope of victory.