Keeper of the Waters

By Jenna Solitaire and Russell Davis

To defeat an ancient evil, she must travel to an ancient land, and summon all of her powers . . .

My name is Jenna Solitaire and everything I thought I knew about myself, my family, and my future is wrong. My life is not my own. It never has been. I just didn't know it―until now . . .

Having mastered the power of the Board of Air, Jenna travels to Jerusalem to find the Board of Water. She is accompanied by Simon Monk, who seeks the Boards on behalf of the Vatican. Jenna doesn’t trust Simon, but he’s her only source of information about the Boards.

In Jerusalem, Jenna meets Saduj, a local guide who claims he can help them find the Board they seek. Simon is suspicious, but Jenna finds herself strangely attracted to Saduj. 

To fulfill the responsibility that’s been handed down to her, Jenna must find the Board before it awakens and causes unimaginable destruction. But will she lose her heart—and possibly her life—in the process?

Praise for Keeper of the Winds

“Intriguing . . . Certain to appeal to teen readers.” —Booklist

“Compelling fantasy.” —School Library Journal 

“Jenna Solitaire is an exciting new presence.” —Nancy Holder, New York Times–bestselling coauthor of the Wicked series

“Fast-paced . . . The author strikes a good balance between action sequences and moments of introspection on Jenna’s part.” —VOYA

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Sep 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9781680571325

Book preview

Prologue

That’s the last of it.

I whisper the words to the empty sands around me and drop the empty waterskin. The last few drops I had tingle briefly on my tongue, a teasing wetness that is gone before it has even dampened the parched skin of my mouth.

Before me, the dark mouth of a cave yawns in endless anticipation of my entry. I feel like it will swallow me whole. Maybe it would be for the best—to disappear forever into the hot darkness, taking my burden with me and being buried forever by the sandstorms that plague this area.

I have all the water in the world … and none. Surrounded by the desert, I could call upon the Board I possess and create an oasis or an ocean. But to do so now would serve no real purpose.

Stepping into the darkness of the cave, I remove my hood and face scarf, and breathe in the dry air. Protected from the blistering rays of the sun, the inside of the cave is much cooler, though without water, no one would survive here long.

I will die here, too.

When I first found the Board of Water, hidden in an underwater cave not far from here and not that much different than this one, I become a Holder … and my fate was sealed. To be hunted by my enemies who want the Board for their own dark purposes, hounded to this desolate place, and yet …

And yet, I smile.

I will take many of them with me and the Board will be safe. That is what it wants, what I want. If I cannot have it, then the Board shall be hidden away, perhaps forever, for some future Keeper or treasure seeker to find. But it will not be I who surrenders it—not ever.

The back of the cave is cooler still, and I follow swirled paths of sand past strange, sealed jars and fragments of old scrolls. From the looks of it, someone else thought this was a good hiding place, too. The desert wind moans through shafts in the rock, and as I hear my enemies outside, I moan quietly with it.

I can hear the tired breathing of horses and the curses of overheated men.

She’s got to be in there, the leader calls out. Go in and get her.

A babble of excited and confused voices rise in disagreement, and I slip further into the cave.

I don’t care if it’s a holy place, the leader snarls. I want that girl and I want the Board! Get in there and bring her out … alive, if necessary.

I want to cry, but dare not make a sound. I need them to come into the cave, to follow my tracks in the sand. Especially the leader.

I am exhausted, but I summon my waning strength, using my natural magic to call for the winds to swirl around the cave mouth, making the moaning sound louder than before.

The winds rise, picking up stinging bits of sand and swirling in dust devils that moan in the cloudless sky. The men outside yell in surprise and protest entering the cave again.

Is it a holy place? I look around and see no evidence that it is anything more than an out of the way cave where someone stored old jars and scrolls long ago. Maybe the Board led me here. I’m so tired, I can’t think anymore, can’t focus or concentrate. My memories are like the grains of sand in my sandals—tiny and forgotten.

You cowardly dogs, the leader snaps. Fine, I’ll do it. Follow me.

I smile. He is coming and he is the one who must die here. His powers are what led him to me, and he wants the Board to spread his evil across the land. His quest for power will stop here. Moving to the very end of the cave, I crouch down in the shadows and remove the Board from my pack.

Its whispering voice enters my mind, telling me what to do, what I must do.

Wait, it says. Wait until they cannot run fast enough. Can you feel the waters beneath us?

Yes, I whisper. I can feel the waters. They come from the Dead Sea, though how they traveled so far underground I do not know.

I called to them, the Board tells me. The waters always answer my call.

I know this is true. I know many things now, things the Board has told me. I also know many things I would have been just as happy never knowing as well.

The men draw closer now. I hear the shuffle of their feet in the sand, the swishing of their robes. They think they can take me by surprise, but I hear the harsh whisper of their every word.

Wait … the Board says. Soon.

The leader comes around a bend in the cave and I see his face, the shimmer of his teeth against his tanned skin. His eyes meet mine and he grins, a white crescent in the dimness.

There you are, he says.

Yes, I agree. Here I am.

Now … the Board says. Call on the waters and they will come. Bring forth the flood.

The leader reaches toward me, but when he sees I have the Board in my hand, he stops. You cannot … he starts to say, then stops as he realizes something isn’t right. He looks around, wondering where the danger is coming from. He looks everywhere but down.

I already have, I tell him. There is a new scent in the air—of salt, and wet.

At our feet, the sands already swirl in several inches of warm water. It is the water of the Dead Sea … brackish and without life. And it will claim the lives of everyone in the cave.

Rise! I command the water. Faster! Flood the cave!

In seconds it is at our knees, and I can hear the babble of voices as the men gape in shock at what is going on, begin to panic as they try to figure out what they should do. The leader looks at me, at the Board; torn between saving his life and having his treasure.

He makes his decision. Run! he yells. Get out! He turns to leave.

I laugh, calling on the Board with the last of my waning strength, and it answers with glee. I hear the rush of waves, the popping of bones pushed into rocks as panicked men struggle in the small space.

Run, you fools! he yells, shoving against them.

There is nowhere for them to go and I laugh again. The Board is safe.

As the waters rise to my chest, my neck, and over my head, I smile. The high salt content will kill me, even when the water won’t. I do not mind. I am ready to die.

I suddenly realize I cannot hear the voice of the Board anymore. I cannot hear the voices of my enemies. I am safe. At peace.

It is quiet, and I do not mind at all when the waters fill my mouth and I know that the Board has deserted me, leaving me to my doom. I welcome death with open arms, secure in the knowledge that at long last, I am finally free.

Chapter One

My Lord, they have left Miller’s Crossing, and are traveling to the Holy Land.

I know where she is going. The second Board calls to her, and she can only obey. You did well to let her leave. She will take us everywhere we need to go and do everything that we have not been able to. Follow her and keep me informed about her every move.

As you command, my Lord.

Jenna!

Simon’s voice called to me over the waves of my dreams, echoing in the salt-filled caverns of my mind. I wondered why he was calling to me when I was already dead, the Board safely hidden away.

Jenna, come on! You have to wake up right now!

Shuddering, I climbed out of sleep and opened my eyes. The plane lurched and bucked around us. What’s going on? I asked. The plane jerked again, like it had been hit by a gigantic fist of wind.

You were dreaming, he whispered. And if you don’t get yourself under control, this plane is going to crash. He jerked his head toward the window. I know you don’t mean to—at least I hope you don’t mean to—but you’ll kill us all if this keeps up.

Outside, I saw clouds swirling in the high winds that lashed the plane. I glanced at the other passengers and saw white knuckles and fearful expressions everywhere. Across from us, an elderly woman clutched a rosary and bowed her head, her lips moving as she prayed silently. Over the intercom, the pilot once again warned everyone to stay buckled in their seats, and that he hoped he could climb out of this patch of unexpected turbulence.

That’s the fourth time he’s tried, Simon said. He grasped my elbow firmly to get my attention. It’s probably a good thing that he doesn’t know that one of his passengers is the reason for all this. They might throw us both out the emergency exit. Jenna, you must control the Board.

I reached out to the Board of Air with my mind and felt its glee. It was ecstatic creating havoc out of my emotions. Enough, I commanded it. Stop.

The Board replied in a sibilant whisper. As you command.… But the winds this high are so nice …

No. Stop. Now.

I felt the Board withdraw, its magic fading into a quiet hum in the back of my mind. The plane stopped bouncing around almost immediately and the other passengers in first class breathed sighs of relief.

Simon leaned back and relaxed into his seat. Very good, Jenna, he said. You are already showing remarkable control over it.

Tell that to the pilot, I snapped.

You must learn to shield your emotions, he replied, as calm as ever. Or so Armand has told me. The Board … feeds off of your emotional state, even when you are asleep.

How am I possibly supposed to control my emotions when I sleep?

Simon shrugged. Armand didn’t explain that part, he said. You may have to figure it out on your own.

Perfect, I replied. Maybe I’ll just go without sleep for the rest of my life, too.

That hardly seems necessary, Simon said. But you can try it if you’d like.

I gritted my teeth and resisted the urge to smack him. The man could be infuriatingly smug when it suited him. As it obviously did now. Instead, I asked, Did Armand give you any suggestions on how I might be able to do this?

He wasn’t certain, Simon replied, but promised to look into it.

How helpful, I said. I’d hate to think that information like that might be pressing.

Simon turned and looked at me seriously. Jenna, Armand has been very helpful so far, but he’s not omniscient. Give him a chance and he’ll come up with something.

I sighed, thinking of the articulate, intense man who was also a sorcerer that I’d met only once—in a half-destroyed warehouse brought down by the Board of Air that now resided in my backpack … a warehouse I had destroyed with its power, and that also had cost my best friend his ability to walk. The guilt of my mistakes back home in Miller’s Crossing, Ohio, weighed on me like an anvil around my neck. So much death and destruction on my conscience, and instead of staying there to face whatever punishment I might deserve, I was on a plane to Jerusalem to look for the next Board.

The Board of Water. The Board in my dream.

Nothing about my life seemed connected to reality anymore. When I’d found the Board of Air in my grandfather’s attic, a chain of events was set into motion that dated all the way back to the time of Babylon. A sorceress named Shalizander—my ultimate grandmother—had helped to create what were called the Boards of Chaos, but something had gone horribly wrong, and when she realized that they couldn’t be destroyed she hid all but one of them, leaving the Board of Air to her heirs to protect.

It was now, according to Simon, my destiny to be the Keeper of the Boards. As far as I could tell, what that really meant was gathering the Boards to keep them away from people who would use their magical powers for evil and trying not to get hurt in the process. So far, I’d been lucky in that respect—all that I’d hurt so far was my pride … and my friends.

Simon had turned his attention back to the window, while he fidgeted with the ancient Babylonian coin necklace he wore, and I opened my backpack and took out the Blackberry I’d borrowed from Tom. The email icon on it flashed, and I opened the message to read:

Dear Jenna,

I don’t know when you’ll receive this or if the Blackberry will even work over there, but I wanted you to know that I do forgive you. It wasn’t your fault and you more than made up for it with the house and everything. Kristen is mothering me to death, so I don’t get too many chances to email you, but I will as often as I can. Take good care of yourself and let me know if there’s such a thing as a Starbucks in the Holy Land.

Your friend—Tom

PS Please don’t break the BB, if you can help it—I still owe a couple hundred on it, and between Kristen and you, I haven’t even gotten a chance to use it yet.

You’re not supposed to be using that on the plane, Simon said, frown lines forming on his handsome face. You could get us in trouble. With his face framed with dark, curly hair, and blue eyes the color of storm clouds, he was a compelling man in many ways. He could also be incredibly annoying.

What are they going to do? I asked. Throw us out from thirty thousand feet?

No, Simon said. Take it away from you and give you a big fat fine to pay.

We could afford it, now, I replied. Just like we could afford first class.

This trip was funded with dirty money that had been going to purchase the Board of Air, and myself as well, by a slimy antiques dealer in Miller’s Crossing. Other than losing his money and taking a hard shot to the jaw from Simon, Burke had gotten off pretty light for someone involved in what had turned out to be a very dangerous game. He’d been on the payroll of a very evil sorcerer named Peraud who’d wanted the Board, and me, for himself.

Personally, I thought flying first class was a much better use for the money.

Do you really know how expensive our tickets were, especially when we purchased them only ten hours ago? Simon asked. Even the Vatican can’t work a miracle like that for under four figures. We did this because I knew we’d need the comfort—and, I thought, relaxation—on the long trip, but if we want our funds to last, we’ll have to be more economical from here on out.

Simon, you could squeeze a nickel until it screamed, I said.

"If they take away your Blackberry, you’ll be the one screaming, not me," he said.

I hated it when Simon was both smug and right, but I didn’t want to lose my only sure way of staying in touch with Tom and Kristen. I even thought it was possible that Father Andrew might break down and hit the information superhighway once in a while. Even though Kristen was a practicing witch, compared to the rest of my life, they all represented my connection to reality. And home.

I shut it off and stowed it in my backpack, trying my best to ignore the Board’s whispering voice in my head as I did so. I’d come to realize that it talked to me almost constantly—a hissing whisper that offered suggestions mostly related to using its strange powers to control the winds. It wanted to exercise its abilities and took every opportunity to do so.

And, I admitted to myself, I loved how it felt to have such power at my command—which was part of what made it so very dangerous. It wanted to be used, and I wanted to use it … but to do so would be to open myself up more and more to its evil influence. Or so Armand and Simon had told me. A small voice inside me suggested that they were guessing more than working from any real knowledge, and that I should experiment with the Board myself. But whether that was it talking, or my own subconscious, I couldn’t say. I turned to Simon and changed the subject.

How much longer? I asked.

He looked at his watch and gestured to the heads-up display in front of me that showed our progress on a cartoon-like layover