The Owl Keeper Read Online Free Page B

anything to speak owl language." Gran once said that, long ago, people called Night Seers knew how to converse in the language of owls. What a remarkable talent, he thought dreamily, wishing he'd lived back then.
    The owl was quiet, fixing them in her silver gaze. Maybe I should listen more closely to my owl, Max told himself. I think she wants me to like Rose, even though she's kind of bossy.
    Then again, he thought, should he trust this odd and unpredictable girl?
    "I found a message in her beak!" he blurted out, surprising himself, because he hadn't meant to say it. "It was folded up and wet with snow, but she let me take it and I hid it in my room. I think she was headed for the coast, because the message talks about ships and silver treasure. But she never made it to the sea because she was attacked, and whoever did it broke one of her wings."
    "A secret message?" breathed Rose, and for a moment Max regretted telling her. What if she couldn't keep quiet about it?
    "Hey, maybe it was meant for pirates!" Rose went on, waving her arms around. "Or diamond smugglers! Black-market gangsters! Who knows?" She reached out and patted the owl's head. "I think this owl has lots of secrets." Max watched her finger slide down the curve of the owl's beak. "And I think you do too, Maxwell Unger."
    Her eyes flicked over to him and he looked away. A shiver of anticipation slid down his back. This girl was complicated, he
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    thought, but in a good way. Suddenly he saw in Rose a kindred spirit.
    Something shifted deep inside him, like the snick of a key, springing open a door. Out tumbled thoughts, ideas, emotions and dreams that had been locked away for five long years.
    "My mom and dad don't even know I come here!" he told her. "They think I'm in my room at night doing homework; they don't know I sneak outside after they go to bed. I think Mrs. Crumlin suspects, but she never says anything. I get restless and bored being indoors all day. That's why I come here in the night--I have to be in the dark!"
    Rose's eyes went wide. "Why don't you go outside in the daytime?"
    "I can only leave my house when the sun goes down," he confided. Then, before he could stop himself, the words were spilling out. "I'm allergic to sun particles! If I stay one minute in the sunlight, I get seriously ill! If sun particles touch my skin, I'll burn up! I could die, that's how bad it is."
    Rose's eyes grew even bigger. "Would your eyeballs sizzle in their sockets?"
    "Sure they would! My hair would catch fire and my skin would bubble up like fried chicken!" Max pulled his cap down over his ears. Mrs. Crumlin and Dr. Tredegar had explained the worst-case scenario in excruciating detail. "I developed the condition when I was seven, and now the dark is the only place I can be. It's a disease and it won't ever go away. I take medicine to keep it under control."
    Had he said too much? he wondered.
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    Rose didn't say a word. But she didn't laugh, either, the way he feared she might.
    "I hope I don't catch what you've got," she said at last.
    "You won't," said Max. "Dr. Tredegar says it's in my genes. That means I was born with it."
    Rose stared at him with that solemn, haughty gaze. Any minute now, he thought, she's going to take off into the night and never come back. He couldn't blame her. Why would she want to be friends with a pale sickly kid who was deathly afraid of the sun?
    But Rose didn't go anywhere.
    "Look," she said, pointing to the tree. "That silver owl is getting ready to fly."
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    CHAPTER FOUR
    [Image: Mrs. Crumlin.]
    Seated at the kitchen table with Mrs. Crumlin, Max yawned through an hour-long game of Dark Hearts and Winding Shrouds. Mrs. Crumlin was winning as usual, cackling with glee each time she captured one of his pawns.
    Mrs. Crumlin was manic about board games--Echo Magicians, Dome Delirium, Skeletons in the Cupboard, you name it. She was a big fan of jigsaw puzzles too. For months she had been constructing a 1,001-piece puzzle in the