The Keystone

By Suz Korb

In "The Keystone" by Suz Korb, Jaclyn Davies' mundane excursion to explore a decaying, ancient castle transforms into an extraordinary journey that she could never have anticipated. The story takes a thrilling twist when an ominous aura envelops Jaclyn, thrusting her into a tumultuous series of events that will forever alter her life.

As the tale unfolds, a mysterious and enigmatic figure emerges seemingly out of thin air. This stranger, possessing an uncanny ability to manipulate fire, imprints a peculiar key-shaped insignia onto Jaclyn's palm. This arcane mark soon reveals itself to be more than a simple tattoo; rather, it becomes the catalyst for a chain reaction of chaos. Jaclyn's once-ordinary existence spirals into a dizzying whirlwind as she grapples with the newfound reality of her role in a complex and dangerous narrative.

Soon, Jaclyn becomes aware that her singular tattoo carries immense significance. It attracts the attention of various individuals, each driven by their own motives and desires. United by their determination to possess what was forcibly taken from Jaclyn, a sinister pursuit unfolds. The novel's intrigue deepens as it plunges readers into a steampunk realm—a world where fantastical machinery and a palpable, sentient force intertwine to shape the very fabric of reality.

In this captivating blend of teen comedy, horror, and steampunk adventure, Suz Korb crafts a story that navigates the boundary between ordinary and extraordinary. Jaclyn's journey transcends the limits of her imagination as she grapples with her newfound powers, confronts unexpected allies and adversaries, and unearths the latent potential within herself. "The Keystone" invites readers to join Jaclyn on a roller-coaster ride of mystery, peril, and self-discovery, all set against the backdrop of a realm where the line between human will and the boundless power of the unknown blurs.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Suzanne Lehuanani Korb
• Release date: Oct 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223463207

Suz Korb

Suz Korb writes Young Adult and Adult fiction. Originally from Hawaii, Suz grew up in Utah, and has been living most of her adult life in England, where she writes novels and short stories. A multi-genre author writing Science Fiction & Fantasy, Romantic Comedy, Coming of Age, and more. Suz is also an academic in that she continually changes her major with the Open University. Just like with her multi-genre fiction writing, she researches and writes essays in wide and varied subjects such as biology, genetics, literature, and psychology. Combining these disciplines with real world experiences, and the author’s wild imagination, Suz Korb books are born. If you’ve enjoyed this, or any Suz Korb books please do leave a rave review, it would be greatly appreciated. And get in touch with the author, if you like. She’d love to hear from you about all things fiction.

Book preview

The Keystone

Suz Korb

The Keystone

Copyright © 2015 Suz Korb.

All rights reserved.

SuzKorb15.blogspot.com

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permissions, requests and queries contact [e-mail]

Any references to historical events, real people, real places, or real circumstances, are used fictitiously. Names, characters, places, and circumstances are products of the author’s imagination. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

For Rascal, the most diabolical cat I ever met.

CONTENTS

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty one

Twenty two

Twenty three

Twenty four

Twenty five

Twenty six

Twenty seven

Twenty eight

Twenty nine

Bibliography

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE

––––––––

My parents should have listened to me. I said I didn’t want to come on this stupid tour of North Wyche castle. Now here I stand on the highest crumbling tower. The stars stark and clear in the black night sky above my head. The roof that was once part of this castle crumbled away long ago. It’s just me standing here in the cold open January air.

I’m alone and I have a deep sinking feeling in my gut that I’m about to die.

And it won’t be of natural causes.

There’s something happening in the air. Something happening to the air all around me. I can barely breathe. My feet feel as though they’re glued to the floor and I can’t move my body in the slightest. I’m trapped in place by an unseen force. Every breath I take is a struggle. An invisible weight presses my whole body inwards.

It’s snowing fat flakes and one lands upon my eyelash. My vision pales. The pressure is too much. I can only see the one snowflake blocking my vision. I stare harder and harder at it until it comes into focus.

For a split second I can see the frozen water on a microscopic level. I’m aware of the fractals that are the framework of each crystallized flake.

The snowflake drifts away on a breeze, so I know there’s still air around me. The problem is; I’m finding it more and more difficult to breathe any of it in.

I can see in front of me again. I don’t think I’m seeing clearly though. The atmosphere is hazy.

The snow falls slowly all around. I stand stock still. Not a smidgen of movement from my body, apart from the rise of my struggling chest that’s gasping for air.

Suddenly, cold punches my gut. I’m able to move again and I can breathe. The air feels light and pure and I suck in down in great gulps. I feel like I was drowning, even though I’m nowhere near any great body of water, let alone under it.

Whatever just happened I am so over it. And I am so totally getting the hell out of here.

I step through the open doorway of the tower. Something gleams above my head. When I look up I discover the source of the light.

The highest stone in the centre of the arch is glowing.

When I tilt my head down again I can see across the battlements and I make a beeline for the corridor on the left. There’s snow piled up in there about two feet deep, but I won’t let that stop me. I’m getting out of here right now before the paranoia of seconds-ago kicks in again.

I don’t want to feel like I’m going to die.

"Jaclyn."

Someone’s said my name.

Who’s there? I stop running, turning round and round, leaving chaotic footprints in the fallen snow.

That voice. It came from...

Everywhere.

The stone is still glowing at the top of the tower doorway arch. I fling myself back around and when I attempt to flee again my face meets an invisible wall.

No. Not invisible. There’s something there. Something blurry, foggy even.

It’s a wall of steam. It’s dissipating. There’s someone standing there and it takes me only a second to realize it’s a mirror. I can see my own reflection in a great big outdoor mirror.

My long blonde hair spills out of the furry hood of my coat I have pulled up over my head. I can see the whites of my blue eyes because my lids are open so wide in fear.

But wait. Something else is there. Something is happening to my face! It’s transforming!

That’s not me. The mirror-like fog is gone. Someone is coming towards me and it’s a boy.

A... umm... it’s some guy. A stranger. Someone with a black hood over his head.

He looks me straight in the eyes and once again I find myself unable to move from this spot.

Brown eyes. He has light brown eyes.

Jaclyn.

When he speaks my name it’s like a punch in the chest. The only thing that’s solid about him are his eyes. Everything else is foggy, as though that misty mirror is still clinging to the air all around.

I watch as he takes off one of his black leather gloves. His palm extends and the world turns upside down.

What’s happening? I cry out. My vision is swirling impossibly. I can see as though I’m looking out the back of my head, while still being able to view the person standing in front of me.

The glowing stone at the top of the doorway. His outstretched palm. Something’s happening there. A swirling of mist, a gathering of snow. A ball of light erupts just above his hand. A floating golden ball of light. Within that light something twinkles even brighter.

A glint of something. A golden something in the shape of a key.

The key hovers there above his palm enveloped in light, and in the next split second he moves so fast I don’t even see it until he’s got hold of me.

One arm is around my waist, the other has gripped my right hand.

Take it. He squeezes and a searing pain erupts in my palm.

I scream and fall to one knee.

I’m sorry, Jaclyn. This is the only way.

He holds me there. I look up at him. I sense the glowing light from the stone behind me. Pain courses through my hand as he continues to grip it tight.

And then suddenly, with a vacuum whoosh of air...

He’s gone.

I’m left kneeling on one leg gasping for breath. Snowflakes fall. My hand is in agony but I bite back anymore screaming. Instead I grit my teeth as hard as I can and I look at my palm.

Emblazoned upon my skin is a white emblem in the shape of key.

My hand steams with heat. Fog swirls up from my fingertips, hitting my nostrils and eyes like heavy vapour. Everything swirls around and around and this time I’m absolutely overwhelmed by dizziness.

I fall flat on my back and I have no energy to do anything but lie here and watch fat snowflakes fall from a dark grey sky onto my eyelashes; one, by, one.

CHAPTER TWO

––––––––

I’m home now. Sat in my bedroom on my bed holding my wrist and staring at my hand. We left Wyche North castle an hour ago and I didn’t tell my parents anything. My palm stopped hurting entirely and I don’t know why, but I decided to keep the incident to myself.

All I can do now is stare at this burn on the inside of my hand. I haven’t even taken off my coat. I’m just sitting here with the hood still pulled up over my head.

The burn doesn’t really look like a burn. It looks as though someone tattooed the shape of a skeleton key into my palm with white ink.

I don’t know how this is possible. I can’t even fully process what happened in my mind.

Subconsciously, I hear the home phone ring downstairs. I only slightly register it because it’s strange that the home phone would ring at all. No one ever calls our landline. Mum, Dad, and I all have our own iPhones, obviously.

Thump, thump, thump.

Someone’s coming up the stairs.

Jaclyn! My father shouts from the other side of my closed bedroom door. Lllamar por teléfono a mi querido!

Dad’s learning to speak Spanish. This is his mid-life crisis. Mum was suspicious for all of a day when she didn’t know where he was one evening, a few weeks ago. She suspected he was having an affair. She followed him, found him at South Worcestershire College, and decided to join him on his language course.

They now both keep pressuring me to go to college or move out because they claim they’re retiring to Spain soon. They’re both forty-four years of age. I don’t believe for one second that either of them are capable of retiring. Not when they both love their jobs so much.

Squeezing my hand shut tight into a fist, I go to the door of my bedroom and open it partially. I stick my normal hand (the non-burned one) through the virtual crack in the door and wave for my father to hand me the phone.

Dad says something incomprehensible to me in Spanish.

I reply with the same thing I always say. Grassy arse, instead of ‘gracias’. Just for a laugh.

He hands me the phone and seems perfectly happy with my reply. I close the door and speak into the handset. Hello?

Hello there. A kind and very chirpy female voice on the other end of the line. I can actually hear her smiling from just those two words she says. Am I speaking to Jaclyn Williams?

Yeah. I reply.

Congratulations Miss Williams your application for Cambridge university has been accepted! Okay now the woman is shouting and smiling. I pull the receiver away from my ear as she continues loudly. Every year we have students chosen for our specialty program and you’ll need to be able to meet with us prior to official acceptance...

She drones on and on about certifications and processes in an endless stream until my ear is absolutely ringing. I actually have time to throw the phone down onto my bed. I can still hear her squirrely voice piping from speaker. I remove my coat carefully with my non-burnt hand, and kick off my shoes.

When I pick up the phone again I’m determined to interrupt this lady. Did my parents apply me to Cambridge university?

Oh! The woman seems surprised that I’m suddenly speaking instead of her. What do you mean?

I mean, I didn’t apply to attend Cambridge.

Oh! She yelps again. Then says nothing, which is odd.

It’s like ten o’clock at night as well. I grumble, opening and closing my fingers over my strangely burnt palm. Why are you calling so late?

Because your appointment is tomorrow morning, like I said!

My appointment?

Yes, to meet with the Professor!

Everything this woman says is so flipping screamy. Okay, I’m hanging up now.

Suddenly, I’m feeling very tired and I don’t want to carry on with whatever scam call this is. I’m not an eighty year old woman. I’ve read about phone call bank scams on Facebook, and stuff. I don’t know what this lady on the phone is doing, but it’s definitely not legit.

Wait! Crazy lady screams. You will regret this!

Click.

What the?

I stare at the handset.

She just hung up on me?

What I’ll regret is ever having answered her call in the first place. What a weirdo that woman was.

Clicking off the phone I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and make a fist over the burn on my palm. I’ve got to do something about this. The entire incident at North Wyche castle is making my head crazy. Is this white tattoo-looking mark of a key, even real? Or am I still hallucinating like back at the castle?

There’s only one way to find out.

I’m going to have to show my parents.

But wait. I can’t show this to them. They’ll think I got a tattoo and they will absolutely freak out about it.

I know!

Jumping across my bed I grab my iPhone off the nightstand. I take a picture of the key-shaped image burnt in white ink upon my palm. And then I send it to Marigold, my best friend forever.

She replies immediately by text message: 

I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU GOT A TATTOO BEFORE ME!

Followed by many cryface emojis.

I text her back, in less excited lowercase:

Haha, yeah. I just did it on a whim!

I’M GOING TO GET A TATTOO TOMORROW!!

No don’t do that!

WHY NOT?!!!

This is going downhill fast. I need to call her. So I ring her instead because my fingers are already tired from left-handed texting, which I am not used to doing at all. I’m right-handed, but that hand is a bit sore at the moment.

When Marigold answers I’m speak before she even says hello. I regret this tattoo!

What? Why?

"Because I Googled after I got home just, and