Wishes of Monsters

[CW: implications of child abuse]

The world churned and constricted as the coin slipped between Gemma’s fingers. It slipped down into the velvety blackness. Gemma waited, unbreathing. In a moment, three things happened. A tinkling splash echoed up the well, the world unfurled and expanded, and a strange voice filled the space surrounding Gemma.

“If that is your wish,” it said in a soft, watery voice.

“Thank you,” she whispered and turned away.

“I will be here should you change your mind, but it will not be so easy.”

Gemma turned around “Why would I change my mind?”

The air shifted and Gemma had the district impression that the thing had tilted it's head. If it had had a head, that is. “I will be here all the same.” And then it wasn't.

Gemma picked her way back through the forest she had come through, following that same odd trail of white mushrooms that seemed to almost glow in the moonlight if you looked at them just right. She followed the trail all the way back to the edge of the woods at the end of the lane. She looked back into the dark, narrow entrance she had just come from before running off down the lane and sneaking back into her house.

Gemma closed the front door quietly and locked it, wincing at the click it made in the dead silence. She took the stairs carefully, stepping over the old boards that would have betrayed her, and hesitated at the top of the stairs to press an ear to her parents’ bedroom door. No sound issued from the other side. They had not heard her. She was safe.

Once inside her own bedroom, Gemma paused. She looked to the open closet. Nothing waited there for her. She looked behind her bedroom door. Nothing waited there, either. Finally, she knelt down, trembling slightly, and peeked beneath her bed. Nothing waited. Gemma crawled in bed and slept, slept her first real sleep in weeks, since they'd moved to that awful house.

---

The morning was brilliant and warm and the smell of bacon drifted in from downstairs. Gemma rolled out of bed, rubbed her wide eyes, and bounded downstairs for breakfast. She entered the kitchen, stopped dead, turned around, and went straight back out. She waited a minute until her pounding heart had settled, and went back in. Two things that were very much not her parents were bustling around the kitchen, making breakfast.

“Where've they gone?” Gemma asked in a tiny voice.

One of the things seemed to turn toward her, though it was of such dense darkness that no features were discernible. “Who?”

“Mum and Dad. What have you done to them?”

“We have done nothing to them.” Its voice was thick and silken.

“Where've they gone? Who are you?”

Had the things had eyes, Gemma would have been certain they were staring at her. “Sit down, the food is almost ready,” the second pit of darkness said.

“No. What's happened to my parents?” Gemma stared at them. It was much the same as staring into the gaping void beneath her bed at night, or staring down the well before dropping her wishing coin. It made the little hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and her heart beat a tune a little too fast for her liking.

“They have gone with your wish, of course.”

She blinked. “That's not what I wished for! It lied to me!” Gemma hadn't even finished speaking before bursting through the front door.

She ran down the lane and into the woods. She followed the trail of white mushrooms to a small clearing, where rested an old stone well.

“You lied to me! You changed my wish!”

“I do not lie,” said the watery voice, calmly. “I gave you your wish, child. Do you want to take it back?”

“No! You gave me the wrong wish! I want my parents back. I want the monsters gone.”

There was a minute of silence before the voice spoke again. “Which is it?”

“What?”

“I have already granted the one. You cannot have both.”

Gemma paced around the well. “What do you mean?”

“You wished away the monsters. I sent them away.”

She stamped her foot in mounting frustration. “You sent away my mum and dad!”

“Yes.”

Gemma just about pulled her hair from her head. “That’s not what I wanted. I wanted the monsters from my house gone. Monsters! Not parents.” She kicked the side of the well.

“They are one in the same.”

“Oh my god!” Gemma shrieked, stamping around. “They’re people. People aren’t monsters. The things you put in my house are monsters. What are they? No, don’t answer that. Because they’re monsters. You took my parents and you put monsters in my house. Monsters. In my house. Where are my mum and dad?”

“Down the well.”

Gemma shrieked and looked down the well. Only dense blackness stared back at her. She called for her parents but only echoes replied. Gemma looked around furiously, but before she could accuse the voice of anything, it spoke again.

“Climb down the well and you will find the place all wishes go. Be careful, for the way back out is much harder than you could possibly fathom.”

“How do you mean?”

“Climb down the well.”

“What do you mean ‘harder?’”

“Down the well.”

There was an odd tug at her stomach, or maybe it was the wind pushing at her back, that guided Gemma to the edge of the well. She placed one small foot on the stone wall and hesitated for the slightest of moments before grabbing the rope in front of her and lowering herself down. Down and down into the abyss. Her hands grew tired quickly and began to slip on the damp rope. She tightened her grip, but only slid farther and farther. The rope spilled up through her hands and left a burn so hot it seemed to light up the darkness. At some point during her journey down she had let go. She hadn’t even realized it, not even when her small body shattered the smooth water at the end of oblivion.

---

Gemma washed up onto a rocky beach. The dark hung above her like the surface of the ocean hangs above a drowning man. Long and otherworldly and so very near, yet so utterly, hopelessly far away. Something glittered where the sky should have been, but Gemma knew it was not the stars. How could stars possibly exist in such a place? It wasn’t for lack of space. No, the air expanded far enough to engulf entire galaxies. It was the utter density of the darkness. Not even a star could escape the compressing emptiness of it. But somehow this wet glistening cut straight through.

A cry rent the darkness wide open. It was the sound like a foghorn in the very last hours of October. Nothing moved. Only the sound carried on across the vastness before her. Gemma rose to her feet, stepping gingerly atop the sharp rocks scattered down the shore. Each step shot pain straight through the soft flesh of her feet. She stopped after a minute to crouch down and clear a space to put her tender feet, but there seemed to be no end to the jagged ocean of rocks.

Gemma bit her lip as she looked around, trying to hold back tears. “Mum!” Her voice trembled dangerously. “Dad?”

A shadow flickered a few yards to Gemma’s left. It was made of a blacker darkness than that surrounding her.

“Please help,” Gemma gasped. She shifted awkwardly in her crouch and held a hand out to the shadow. “Please.”

The shadow flickered again before disappearing. Gemma whimpered and closed her eyes. She just needed a minute to get her thoughts together, but the pain in her feet and hand was blinding. Something cold and wet licked her heel, soothing the hot ache for a moment before receding. Gemma looked behind her to find the water just there, as if she hadn't even moved at all.

If she could just collect her courage, she might be able to run far enough to find the edge of the rocks. Then she could rest. Then she could cry. She sucked in a breath and shot off across the rocks. She stumbled just at the edge and fell hard on her knees. Tears pooled hot and thick in her eyes but she held them back.

The space beyond the ocean of rocks was cold and smooth, like the cement floor of their basement. She shivered, thinking of all the creatures that must live down there, lurking, waiting. She wished she had a light with her, something to keep the darkness at bay. The light from the top of the well was already so dim, dissolving into nothingness as it spilled out away from the water. Gemma wrapped her arms around herself and took a step forward.

“It’s so dark,” she whispered. “Mum?”

An odd sound came in reply. Gemma couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but it was growing louder. She planted her feet and stuck her arms out in front of her, bracing herself. It rolled on, echoing faintly around her. She saw and felt nothing. Nothing, until something hit her bare toes.

Gemma screamed and fell backwards. Something very small and dark remained where she had just been standing. When it didn’t move for a solid five minutes, Gemma crawled toward it. She touched it gingerly before snatching it up and fumbling with it. A moment later, a blinding beam of light shot from the thing in her hands.

“Who’s there?” she screamed into the darkness, whipping the light every which way. She saw a dark figure in the distance, but couldn’t make out any features. “Answer me!”

The figure flickered and vanished. Gemma ran after it, shouting at it to come back. The farther she ran from the light of the well, the faster her heart started to climb up her throat. Her breath burned in her lungs and her feet sang, but she couldn’t catch the shadow. As she slowed to a walk, everything seemed to crash in at once.

The cold was like winter. It climbed up her legs and danced along her arms, nestling in about the back of her neck. The darkness was so thick it was staggering. Every time she looked away from the beam of her light, she felt a resolute blindness settle over her eyes. Then there was the sound. The absolute silence was only broken by the sounds of slight movement somewhere deep in the darkness. She couldn’t even hear the patter of her own feet. Hulking shadows slid in front of her light, distant and silent.

A light in the distance caught Gemma’s eye. As she turned toward it, something snagged her foot. She hit the ground with a squeal. Gemma flailed and kicked, her foot connecting with something cold and wet. It slid onto her leg, all slime and stench. The thing pulled her quickly along the floor. She kicked harder, but her foot kept sliding off the slick arm. She pulled herself up and swung the light down as hard as she could.

It exploded into a dozen pieces of metal and plastic and the world went dark once more. The creature released her, but she could hear more things in the darkness skittering toward her. Gemma scrambled to her feet and sprinted toward the light in the distance. Growling and screeching rose up behind her as whatever lurked in the darkness gave chase. Her heart pounded. She pushed until it felt like her muscles were pulling away from the bone. Something snapped at her heel. Hot breath rang in her ears. She ran.

The light pulled closer, rising up on a high dais. She pushed harder, her lungs and muscles searing. Gemma stumbled, barely catching her balance before she reached the stairs. They were tall and spaced far apart, proving difficult for her short legs to climb. She had only made it onto the second step when something lept on her from behind. It was heavy and its fur smelled of mildew and rotten air.

A strange blackness flooded her body. Cold. Panic. Perhaps something just on the edge of acceptance. It wouldn't be so bad if there was nothing after this, would it? Her parents wouldn't notice, would they? But no, they would notice if she didn't come to save them. She was so exhausted she could just sleep.

A shadow moved in front of the light, flickering. It glided toward Gemma until it had consumed both her and the putrid beast. She felt the beast twitch and writhe. It whimpered as it suddenly fell backward off of its prey. The shadow figure rushed the beast until it slinked off into the darkness, howling all the way.

The figure turned toward Gemma, or maybe the world had spun to face it instead. It was made of the same oblivion mass the monsters in her kitchen had been made of. She couldn't actually see it move its body, assuming it even had one, but she could sense a shift in the fabric of the world. It approached her and it was at once already at her side and at the same time so many years away. It settled as if crouching at her feet and she felt she might be flung away and lost in the endless maze of darkness. Her mind reeled and she was sure it had begun collapsing in on itself. She closed her eyes to try and clear her head, but entirely forgot to open them again.

---

Gemma awoke in a dim cavern. A lantern was set on the ground near her, casting a warm glow over the cozy room. She had been laid on a sort of bed made up of many layers of fur. She hadn't noticed the dark mass in the corner at first. When she had first opened her eyes, she thought it had just been a harsh shadow from the faint lantern light. Yet now, as she looked closer, it resembled a sort of figure.

“It’s you,” she whispered.

The darkness swirled in response.

“Who are you?”

“I have no name,” it said. “I only wish to guide you.”

“But why?”

The figure swirled again. “To protect you from the monsters. Was that not your wish? We sent them away yet here you have come to fetch them again.”

“I haven't. I've come for my parents.”

“I am afraid the monsters you see are not your own, but are instead the ones that have been created for you.”

Gemma stood and paced in front of the entrance to the cave. The lantern light had cooled, casting longer shadows along the walls. These creatures… what did they know? “But I love them,” she said at last.

“That does not mean they are not monsters, child. You know this.” It stood and moved from its spot in the corner. It touched Gemma’s face with a gentleness unknown to her. That touch was the first burst of winter air, icy and fresh and exhilarating. She closed her eyes and felt the freedom of ten thousand frozen lakes, the snowstorm atop a mountain peak, the shattered ice adrift in the northern oceans.

“What are you made of?” she asked as it pulled away.

“I do not know how to answer that. I am of this place. I am its guardian. Its keeper. I am what's left when all else has gone.”

“Are you death?” Her voice was small and it curled up at the corners of her mouth, but she wasn't afraid.

A smile creaked in its voice as it said, “No, I do not think so.” It moved through the entrance to the cave. “Come.”

The cave dumped out onto the side of a wide, sparkling river. Brilliant streams of light poured down from a long fissure in the ceiling, winding between vines and mossy tree roots. Water trickled somewhere in the darkness. It echoed serenely all around them.

“Where does that lead? I thought the only entrance was the well.”

“I do not know. I have never been there.”

Gemma sighed. “Is there anything you actually do know?” She felt the dark thing smile again. “Where are we going?”

“You wish to undo your wish, do you not? We must find your parents.”

They followed the river for a long time. The fissure in the ceiling slowly began to shrink until they finally reached the end. Gemma glanced back toward the cave they had come from. A swarm of butterflies was dancing in the light some way off. She stopped and watched them for a moment. They fluttered and swirled, flashing different colours here and there. Then, all at once, the swarm condensed and streamed back up through the crack above. Gemma turned back around and the singing that had just started in her heart at the beautiful sight lulled to a soft hum.

The well keeper explained to Gemma that once they found her parents, they would have to move quickly to get them out safely. Nothing is meant to return from the well. What's done should remain done. The well will fight back to keep what it has claimed. An odd coldness settled on Gemma just then. It wasn't quite fear, but it was something fairly akin to it. Whether or not she went through with undoing her wish, she may never get back out. Nothing is meant to return from the well.

“If you're the keeper of the well, shouldn't you be trying to stop me, not helping me?” They had finally come to a mildly lit room with many dim figures shuffling about.

The keeper did not respond to this, but instead began to glide through the shuffling figures. The crowd began to press in on them, making muffled noises. Gemma’s heart began to race and little bumps ran up her arms. If she were to lose sight of the keeper now, she would never make it home. She ran to the keeper’s side, pushing away a stray shuffler, and grabbed at the edge of the darkness before her. It was like snow melting in her hands, the ocean's kiss. Her heart slowed.

“I am here, child. I will not lose you.” It squeezed her hand and for the narrowest second she thought she felt something under all the exhilarating cold. “They were people, once. The well claimed them for its own.”

“What happened to them?”

“Time.”

Gemma looked up to where the keeper’s face should have been. “Is that what happened to you? Will they become like you?”

“Yes. In time.” It tugged Gemma along gently.

“So were the things in my kitchen people once?” The keeper said they were. “Are they well keepers like you?”

“No. Only the oldest keeps the well.”

“How old-” Gemma froze. Voices were rising above the muffled sounds of the crowd around her. Angry voices. Her parents’ voices.

“-your daughter!”

“Don't put that on me! You're the one who wanted-”

“You can still leave,” the well keeper said, soft in her ear.

Gemma’s father lowered his voice. “Look, it's been hours.”

“Someone will find- My god, Gemma?”

The small girl had pushed her way through the crowd toward her parents.

“Where have you been?” her mother shrieked.

“I'm sorry, I-”

Her father grabbed her hand and yanked her forward. “Let's go. God, where did you even go?” He pulled her along for a few yards before stopping. “How do we get out of here?”

Gemma turned toward the well keeper for directions, but the crowd was pressing in again. She tried to lead her father the way she had come with the keeper, but he pulled her back. She tried again but he pulled her back harder. She yelped and stumbled over her feet.

“Knock it off. I'm trying to find the exit.”

“It's that way. I came from there.” Gemma pointed to a dark hole in the wall a long way off.

“We didn't walk that far. Gemma, I swear to God.” He tightened his grip on her hand as she tried to walk away again. “Wander off again and I'm leaving you here.”

Fire burned in the bones in Gemma’s hand. “Daddy you're hurting me.”

“If you would listen to your father he wouldn't have to,” her mother snapped. “You should know better by now.”

The well keeper flickered a short way away. “There is little time. I feel the beasts coming.”

Gemma panicked and tried to pull her hand away. “We need to go! It's not safe here.

Her mother clenched her shoulder and hissed, “Keep your voice down. People are starting to stare.”

The crowd was surrounding them now, blocking Gemma’s view of the tunnel out of the room. Could her parents not see something was wrong?

“We need to go! Now!” Gemma screamed at her mother. It happened so fast that it took a moment before Gemma’s cheek began to burn. The pain bloomed quickly and sparked tears in her eyes. “Don't touch me," she spat at her mother, her voice shaking violently.

“Excuse me? You don't yell at your mother.”

“You're not listening to me and we don't have time.”

Her father sneered and Gemma thought she saw fangs where his teeth should have been. She tried to back away but he only held her tighter. A low growl sounded from somewhere and she wasn't sure if it had come from the beasts or her father. She looked around frantically for the well keeper, but couldn't see it.

She screamed. She didn't stop when her father covered her mouth. She didn't stop when her mother slapped her again. She only screamed harder when their eyes glinted and their faces twisted and the beasts came. She kicked and scratched and screamed until her head hit the floor and the world fell silent and dark.

---

She awoke just on the edge of the rocky shore. A dark figure flickered next to her. It touched her head and the lights began to flick back on in her mind. She sat up slowly and felt the sticky place on her head where it had hit the ground.

“What happened?”

“I was trying to hold back the beasts when you screamed. I thought I had failed you.”

“You were right,” Gemma said, “about them being monsters.”

“Do you still wish to take them back?”

“Will they die here if I don't?”

“No. When you leave, the well will have no reason to hunt them again. It will still hunt you, though, child."

"I'm not a child," she insisted gently.

"You are to me."

She sighed and got to her feet. “I won't see you again, will I?”

“I do not think so.”

Gemma hugged the keeper the best she could manage before stepping onto the shore. As she did so, the rocks beneath her feet exploded into sand. She turned to question the keeper.

“I can still help until you leave.”

Gemma smiled and made her way to the water. She waded in slowly. It was as icy as the well keeper had been, and small fish nipped at her feet. In the small beam of light ahead dangled the rope she had fallen from. It would be a long climb up, but she would hang on this time. No matter how badly her hands ached, she wouldn't let go.

She pulled herself up out of the water. Slowly, the small circle of light above her grew larger. Something splashed below her, but Gemma didn't look down. She pulled herself higher and the splashing grew louder. At last, Gemma looked down when something shook the rope from below.

A grotesque figure vaguely resembling her father had begun climbing the rope after her. Right behind him was what appeared to have once been her mother. The well must have sent them after her. Gemma tried to climb faster, but her father was quickly gaining on her. He grabbed her ankle and tried to pull her down. She kicked at him with her free foot, but didn't connect with anything. He pulled again and Gemma slipped down the rope.

A coldness flooded over Gemma’s leg as a dark figure knocked her father from the rope. As he fell, his grip tightened on her ankle. She did what she promised herself she wouldn't. She let go. And fell. The world spun all around her. One moment the light from the top of the well was falling away, and the next the thing resembling her mother was hurtling toward her.

A sick smack echoed through the well as Gemma collided with something wet and boney. They fell together into the icy water and it was all Gemma could do to hold the air in her lungs. Skeletal hands pulled at her limbs. Fish nibbled at her hair. She was tugged in all directions and couldn't keep her eyes open in the frigid water long enough to see which way the surface was. She swam anyway.

A strong current slid against her face and down her body, pushing at the monstrous creatures trying to pull her down. Her mother let go instantly but her father tried to hang on. His clawed fingers tore long gashes down her arm before he too finally let go. Her lungs were burning again and the space inside her skull seemed to be trying to explode.

A long fish brushed her hand. Then another swam across her legs. More and more fish began to gather around her and push against her body. They swam faster and harder until at last her head broke the blackened surface of the lake. She kept rising and the water seemed to rise with her, tucked beneath her legs and against her back. It formed, at last, into the figure of her well keeper. It moved quickly, carrying her away from the lake. She coughed and gasped and the pressure in her head dissipated.

With a quick glance back, Gemma saw what had once been her parents trying to claw their way out of the water, yet something kept dragging them back in. “I can't leave, can I? They won't let me.”

“Perhaps it is best you do not return to that world. It seems a cruel place.”

Gemma found this an odd thing for the keeper to say, considering where it lived, but she didn't say anything. Once the lake was out of sight, the well keeper placed Gemma back on her feet. She winced. Her entire body was beginning to ache something horrible and the fresh gashes on her arm were pouring blood at an alarming rate. Gemma showed this to the keeper and asked if there was anything to stop the bleeding. The keeper led her back to the cave she had woken up in earlier that day. At least, she thought it was the same day. Time seemed wholly non-existent in this place.

The keeper pointed out scrap bits of fabric that Gemma used to bind her wounds. It would work for now, but she needed a more permanent, and hygienic, solution soon. There were bandages and antibacterial creams back at her house, but there was no going back there now.

She wondered, just then, what would happen to the house. She wasn't fond of it. They had only lived there a short while and she had certainly not formed any happy memories in that time. Still, she wondered. It would sit empty and lonesome. The police might look for them, but there would be no trace. Nothing would lead back to the well. Even if something did, Gemma was sure it would appear as a normal well to them. No secrets. No wishes. No young girls trapped below with the monster manifestations of her parents. Nothing but cool water. Maybe there wouldn't even be that much. Maybe the well would be all dried up.

"Where do I go?" Gemma asked at last, feeling fear and defeat begin to creep up on her. "If I stay here, I'll turn into… One of those things, won't I? The shuffling people."

The dark mass that was the well keeper pulsed. "I suppose you would."

Gemma watched the keeper, the way the darkness rippled when it moved. It seemed beyond darkness. It seemed like infinite space, like the immensity of the night sky if all the stars were to fall away.

"I think there is one place," it said. There was an odd quality to its voice that Gemma hadn't heard before. "Come, child."

The keeper glided out of the cave toward the river. Gemma trotted along behind, trying to ignore the throbbing in her arm. Shafts of moonlight now slanted in through the fissure above the river. Water still trickled somewhere in the darkness, but now it was joined with the soft hoot of an owl somewhere above the fissure. They made their way in the opposite direction from last time.

"Why are you here?" Gemma asked. "Did someone wish you away?"

The keeper was quiet for a long time and when it finally spoke it still had that strange quality to its voice. It sounded incredibly sad. "I do not remember a life before this place."

Gemma frowned and reached her hand out for the keeper. It seemed to look down and consider her hand for a long moment before touching it. It was just as cold as before, but it was comforting. Gemma squeezed tight, her fingers searching for something beneath the cold, beneath the darkness.

"We are here."

Gemma's grip slackened and she looked up. The fissure ended here. An old tree, gnarled and half dead, covered in exquisitely coloured moss, lichen, and mushrooms, stood rooted in the water. Its branches reached up through the crack in the ceiling. The branches inside below the fissure were half rotted and devoid of leaves, but the ones above were luscious. And the leaves were rustling.

An owl, almost silvery in the soft moonlight, dove down through the crack to perch on the lowest branch. It cocked its head at Gemma and hooted.

"I believe it wants you to follow," the keeper said.

Gemma ran forward, a laugh bubbling up in her throat, and climbed up next to the owl. It flew to a higher branch, one that looked more stable than the others, and hooted again. It seemed to be showing her the safest path up the rotting branches. It wasn't until she had climbed several more branches and her head was just below the crack, which looked even more massive now that she was right next to it, that she noticed the keeper had not followed.

"Aren't you coming?" she asked.

"I do not think I can." Its darkness rippled, somehow sadly. "I do not think the well will let me."

The giddiness that had crept over Gemma died instantly. She didn't know how she would make it on her own. She didn't know where she would sleep or find food. Who would take care of her wounds? Who would comfort her when the night seemed a little too dark, a little too close, and a little too full of teeth?

"Please." Gemma hadn't meant to start crying. She wasn't really even sure where the tears came from, but come they did.

"Do not cry, child. You will be safe there."

"But how do you know?" Her voice was too loud and too shaky but she couldn't stop it.

"Because I believe in you."

"I don't want to be alone," she whispered. The owl hooted again just above her and she looked at it indignantly. "Please, well keeper. You could live again. Up there, with me. We could be a family. You could have a life after this place. A life you remember." When the keeper did not reply, she reached for one last thing.

Gemma pulled a coin from her pocket and flicked it toward the keeper. It flashed in the moonlight before being consumed by the darkness. She turned, wiped the tears from her face, and climbed up through the fissure.

---

With her back pressed against the soft bark of a tree the likes of which she'd never seen before, Gemma watched the sun slowly slip its way over the horizon. The streaks of pinks and peaches stretching across the sky were more beautiful than she would have thought possible, but it did not fill her with happiness.

She was sore and hungry, covered in dirt and grime and mystery filth, and she was heartbroken. She'd lost her family, found a new one, and lost that one too. All in one go. But she was too exhausted to cry.

She lay down and closed her eyes instead, content to leave the tears for tomorrow. A dream had begun to creep up on her when she heard something beside her. Gemma opened her eyes.

The cozy dawn air was dancing with golden wisps. They swirled out into the soft light to slowly fizzle out before disappearing altogether. Beside her, a darkness was falling away in pieces. Deep, velvety black fell like ash before melting into gold and floating away on the breeze.

"What is it you wished for back there, child?" the keeper asked. Gemma could just barely make out a figure beneath all that darkness, beneath all the new gold.

"For you to be happy again."

"I think it would make me happy to protect you a little longer, if that would be alright with you"

Gemma smiled to herself, feeling that laughter bubble up in her throat again. "I guess that would be okay."

"Thank you," the keeper whispered, "Gemma."