The Keepers by Ted Sanders Read Free Book Online

swooned a little, overwhelmed by the sensation that a question he hadn’t asked yet had just been answered.
    â€œThis is it,” he said, though he had no idea what that meant.

CHAPTER SIX

The Find
    T HE BOX ’ S STRIPES SHIFTED LIKE A TIGER ’ S - EYE STONE . Horace knew the name for this phenomenon— chatoyance . He’d done a report on it for Mr. Ludwig in the fall. Although it usually happened in gemstones, it could also be made to happen in certain kinds of wood. But he’d never seen that until now. On the side of the box, a slightly raised black ball was surrounded by a cluster of serpentine rays, twelve long and twelve short, forming a delicate silver star. It, too, glinted in the dim light.
    Horace couldn’t get the box open at first, until he realized the gentle S shape that ran across the lid was a seam. He pressed his thumb down gently on the center of the silver seam. He heard and felt a tiny click . A twist of the thumb, and the lid opened—one half swinging forward while theother swung back, spreading wide like wings. Inside, more of the curious wood, but the bottom was made of a beautiful blue substance, transparent and laced with soft ripples that almost seemed to move.
    Horace held up the open box and looked straight through it. Through the blue bottom of the box, the room came truly alive, almost as if it were a living, breathing thing. He stared, exhilarated— the bristling texture of the rafters, timeworn grooves between the floor stones, floating specks of dust winking in and out of sight . He turned and panned down the room— cobwebs shining in the dark corners, straight-edged bins and boxes and crates, labels smudged out of recognition or turned sharp as knives . Horace noticed that certain patches shifted from clear to hazy and back again. Bright spots looked dimmer, but dark places looked brighter. The whole effect was marvelous, full of clarity and mystery at the same time; full of confusion and depth. It made him feel powerful, somehow, or wise—as though he was seeing the world in a way that no one else could.
    â€œWhat is this?” he breathed.
    Behind him, a polite cough. Mr. Meister stood there, his huge eye roving eagerly across Horace and the box. Horace swung the lid of the box closed. The two halves came together with a satisfying snick .
    â€œI will ask for your caution in this moment, my young friend,” Mr. Meister said. His voice was as mild as his stare was keen. “The box is a subtle contrivance, and I would like to avoid any mishaps.”
    Horace slipped the box back into its pouch and pulled it tightly to his chest. For some reason, he was terrified that Mr. Meister would take the box away from him.
    But Mr. Meister only smiled. “I gather you would like this to be yours?”
    Horace wanted to say the box was the most wonderful and important thing he had ever seen, or would ever see. He wanted to say the box already was his. He wanted to say he would not be able to leave this place without it. But he could hardly speak. He pressed the box harder against his chest. He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew. Finally he said, “This was made for me.”
    â€œBetter to say that you were made for it.” The old man’s face was full of a quivering energy. “Be at ease, Horace. I will not take the box from you. Indeed, let me speak aloud the truth you are already beginning to know: the box is yours now.”
    â€œTo keep?” Horace asked, his voice squeaking.
    â€œYes, to keep. This box has been in my possession for twenty years, but it was never mine so deeply as it is already yours.”
    â€œYou don’t want to keep it?”
    â€œGoodness no. I could not even use it if I tried. It belongs to you now, Horace. You know that it does. Need I say it again?”
    Horace shook his head, his throat closing. He tried to summon words of gratitude but could not. At the front of theroom, the