The Owl Keeper Read Online Free PDF Page A

parlor.
    As the game wound down, Mrs. Crumlin turned up the radio and Max heard a voice warble:
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    Through the haunted forest, beyond the aching hills,
    Darker grows the eventide, deeper grows the chill.
    No longer fear the darkness, build your shining
    domes,
    You'll be warm and safe there, in your perfect
    homes.
    "Eerie, those beginning lines. They take me to another place altogether." Mrs. Crumlin tapped the game board with a pencil. "What do you make of them?"
    "Weird," answered Max with a shrug.
    "I do wish you wouldn't talk in monosyllables, Maxwell. Try to exercise your vocal cords a bit more."
    He sighed. She was always trying to weasel information out of him: details of his dreams, opinions on songs. But Max never gave straight answers; he liked to keep her guessing.
    According to his grandmother, the High Echelon had purposely trivialized the Silver Prophecies, reducing them to mindless jingles, songs and nursery rhymes, distorting the ancient words beyond recognition. The reason they did this, she said, was to make people forget the true Prophecies and discredit the Sages who had written them.
    "And this reminder from your friendly High Echelon, here to serve your every need!" barked the radio announcer, breaking into the end of the song. "Remember to report any treasonous statements or suspicious actions by fellow citizens, no matter how insignificant they may seem, to your local Dark Brigade. Failure to report may result in a lengthy prison sentence--so don't delay!"
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    Max stared down at the game board, wondering what kind of suspicious actions the announcer was talking about.
    "Game's over, I won!" crowed Mrs. Crumlin.
    "Here's a bright spot on the horizon," the announcer continued. "The newly constructed Children's Prison will open its doors in the Eynhallow Hills tomorrow at twelve noon--"
    Max sat rigid in his chair, shocked by the announcement. Mrs. Crumlin leaned over and clicked off the radio.
    "What did he say?" asked Max. "A prison for kids'?"
    "Yes, of course," snapped Mrs. Crumlin. "Haven't I always said the High Echelon believes in punishment for all ages?"
    There was a knock at the front door and Max jumped up, knocking his game pieces onto the floor. For a split second he imagined Rose standing on the porch in her muddied coat, hair sticking out every which way. He glanced at the clock: seven minutes past three. Of course it wasn't Rose. A classmate named Einstein Tredegar stopped by this time every afternoon to deliver his homework.
    Mrs. Crumlin threw Max a stern look and lumbered to her feet. "Stay in the kitchen, Maxwell, you could get a chill! I'd never forgive myself if you were poorly again, the way you were last winter, inhaling vapors for weeks on end. Remember?"
    Max remembered, all right: he had been stuck in bed for a month drinking her disgusting oxtail soup.
    She shambled across the linoleum and out of the kitchen. Max curled around the doorframe, peering down the hallway as Mrs. Crumlin opened the door. Einstein stumbled into the house, folders and books flying out of his red and yellow book bag.
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    "Oops, sorry," he said, unzipping his red bomber jacket. "Hallo, Max!" he shouted.
    Max hurried down the hall to greet him. Above the jacket's sun logo, Einstein sported badges that read domed cities-- coming your way! and your friendly high echelon: building a brighter future. They were illustrated with the face of a cartoon hero, Dudley Dome.
    Max always looked forward to hearing Einstein's stories about the dour, prune-faced teachers; the brutal fistfights on the playground; the global emergency drills where students crawled under their desks while sirens wailed. Einstein was his sole link to the outside world, since none of the other kids in Cavernstone Grey bothered with Max.
    "Making headway with that puzzle of yours, Mrs. Crumlin?" asked Einstein. Max noticed that Einstein was always extra-polite and attentive to Mrs. Crumlin, probably because she was friends with his uncle,