Someone knocked on my door and I wearily raised my head. “Yes?”
“It’s Delph, Vega Jane. Can I come in?”
“Give me a mo’. I’m not decent.” I jumped up, threw on my cloak and then opened the door.
“You look … very, um, decent,” he said shyly.
“Thanks, Delph. But how can you tell? Your eyes are closed.”
He opened them just a bit as though to test whether I was truly decent. Then he opened them fully.
“Now, what was it you wanted?”
He took the chair next to my bed while I perched on the corner of the mattress. He was curling and uncurling his large hands, something I knew he did when he was both nervous and upset.
“Just say it, Delph.”
He nodded. “The thing is, Vega Jane, the thing is …” He stopped, stood and started to pace. Harry Two and I swiveled our heads back and forth as he did so, following his long gait as he crisscrossed the room. He whirled around, looked at me and said, “I … can’t … do … this magic. So what bloody good am I to you?”
“What good are you to me? You’re joking, right?”
He made a huge muscle with his arm, but it wasn’t intended as a show of strength, a fact made clear by his next words. Pointing at it, he said, “This is all I have. I’m strong in Wormwood, pretty much none stronger. But here I’m a bloody weakling, Vega Jane. I can’t help you. And if I can’t help you, I’ll end up hurting you.”
He suddenly slumped to the floor and just sat there looking spent.
As though he could sense Delph’s pain and anxiety, Harry Two used his snout to lift Delph’s hand and perhaps his spirits. As Delph stroked Harry Two, I said, “Okay, Delph, let’s say you can’t do magic and I can.”
“ ’Cause it’s the truth!” he said fiercely.
“But I’m just learning how to do this. You saw that.”
“What I saw, Vega Jane, was a sorceress or whatever you want to call yourself, getting better and better. You’ll soon have the stroke of this magic stuff.”
“And do you really think all you have to offer are muscles?”
He looked surprised by this comment. “Eh? What else, then? All I got.”
“So it wasn’t you who came up with the strategy for me to win the Duelum?”
“Who cares about the damn Duelum? Ain’t you been listening? I can’t do magic.”
I rushed over and seized his shoulder. “Neither one of us came into the Quag thinking we could do magic. But we still came here. And you know why we did.”
I grew silent because I wanted to hear him say it. I wanted to know, for certain, that he wanted it as much as I did.
He said, “To find the truth.”
I nodded and let go of him. “That’s right. Maybe I’ll be a good sorceress and maybe I won’t. Maybe you’ll never be able to do magic, I don’t know. I don’t know much about anything in this place because it’s so unknowable! But that won’t stop us from finding answers, Delph. And if we die trying, well, I’d rather that than live a life that’s not even my own.”
Delph slowly nodded and said, “Okay, Vega Jane. Okay.”
“So are we good?” I asked, peering at him closely.
“We’re good,” he said with a smile.
MORE TIME PASSED and my lessons continued unabated. I muttered so many incantations that it seemed I could recall none. I made intricate moves with my wand. I employed my mind, body and spirit together in ways I couldn’t have even fathomed before. And it was all done under the strict tutelage of Astrea Prine. She seemed to enjoy the role of teacher far more than jailer.
I had my share of victories and a nearly equal number of total disasters.
One terrifying moment had come when I directed a curse at the clay male.
“Jagada,” I called out, whipping my wand at the target, but my enthusiasm had led to a momentum in my arm that badly threw off my aim. My curse hit poor Archie and he started to bleed from gashes all up and down his legs.
I screamed, Harry Two yipped and Delph raced over to him to help.
But Astrea calmly said, “Eraisio,” and waved her wand at Archie. The slashes immediately healed, though his trousers were still ripped.
I apologized profusely, but Archie took it in stride.
“There’s not been any of us that hasn’t made mistakes, Vega,” he said encouragingly. “And you’re doing just fine.”
However, I was so shaken that I could do no more that light. Later, I cried myself to sleep, the image of bloody Archie refusing to leave my thoughts.
The next light, I crushed the clay man by invoking the spell Impacto. I very warily performed the Impairio curse on Archie and struck him blind, but the reverse curse worked just fine too, restoring his sight instantly.
“Mind, body and spirit,” Astrea kept stressing to me.
“I’m getting the hang of it,” I said confidently.
“The basics at least.”
I looked at her, knowing that something else was dwelling on the tip of her tongue. “But?” I said.
“But you’ve had to do none of this while an opponent is casting spells back at you, trying to hurt or even kill you. That changes everything, Vega.”
“But how can I practice that?”
“You will practice that, when you are ready.”
“You mean truly fighting?”
“Yes! You will have to do so to get through the Quag.”
That night I lingered in front of the fire with Astrea and Harry Two while Delph and Archie went off to bed.
“The first night I was here I saw the room covered in dust and cobwebs. It was set up like a nursery.”
She slowly nodded. “It was a nursery, Vega. For my children.”
“It … it must have been difficult for them,” I began.
She gave a hollow laugh. “As you so astutely pointed out, I took their lives from them.”
I remained silent. I shouldn’t have said that to her. I’m sure she had meant the best. But sometimes decisions come at a great cost. For others.
“They never had the chance to meet anyone. Never had the chance to fall in love, marry and have a family. See their children grow up and have their own children.” She let out a long breath that I could sense was chock-full of remorse. She glanced at me before looking away. “My youngest, Ariana, was the first to die. She was so full of life when she was a child. Then she grew into a bitter old biddy, and who could blame her? This cottage, her brothers and sisters. And me. That was all she had. Then one by one, the others went. Tired of not living. A decision I had made for them.”
She lapsed into silence, a quiet I was hesitant to break. But the fact was I had another question to ask her, and it would have a great impact on me personally.
“You said you had killed?” I began.
She was staring into the depths of the fire. She looked so young that it was difficult for me to accept that she was over eight centuries old.
“To defend myself. I was quite good at it. As you will have to be.”
I drew closer. “When I threw the Elemental at the males attacking me on that battlefield, I didn’t know it was going to kill them.”
“And you wonder if you have it in you to consciously do so?”
“I cried when I hurt poor Archie.”
“It is not a natural thing to kill another. At least it is not for us.”
“Do you think that’s why, well, why they beat you? The Maladons?”
“Do you know how they came by their name? Did Archie tell you that?”
“No.”
“In our ancient language it means ‘terrible death,’ Vega.”
“Terrible death. So you named them that? Because of what they did to you?”
She shook her head. “No. They named themselves. To inflict terrible death on others is the highest calling they have.”
“That’s … awful,” I said, nearly unable to process how anyone could be that evil.
“The Maladons have always b
een remarkably good at killing. Although toward the end, many on our side became quite adept at it as well. Alice Adronis killed scores of them and seemed to care not a jot.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
She turned to face me. “And how could you possibly know that?”
“I saw her on that battlefield. She was honorable. Noble. I’m sure the killing did bother her. As it would me.”
“And your point?” asked Astrea curiously.
“Well, if we didn’t care, we would be no better than the Maladons. And then what would be the point of defeating them?”
This comment seemed to surprise her. “You figured that out without any help whatsoever from me.”
“I’ve had to figure out a great many things on my own,” I said quite seriously. “But that still doesn’t answer the question of whether I can kill if I need to. I don’t even know what the spell is to do it. Is there a particular one?”
“Rigamorte,” she said immediately, her features deadly serious. “It is the most powerful of all curses. While we have other spells that can eventually lead to death, that is the one guaranteed to produce it.”
“It even sounds hurtful.”
“Point your wand at me and say it.”
“What?” I exclaimed in astonishment.
“Point your wand at me and say the incantation.”
“But I can’t do —”
“Now,” she screamed, “or I will do it to you. Now, Vega!”
Terrified, I raised my wand and cried out, “Rigamorte!”
My wand gave what amounted to a little sneeze and that was all.
“I guess I need work,” I said lamely. “But you would have blocked it or countered it if —”
“There is no shield. Only inevitable death.”
I was horrified. “Then if it had worked?”
“It could not possibly have worked, Vega. You were scared. It was why I screamed at you. One cannot perform the curse while scared. It is not the emotion required.”
“What is, then?”
“Something more than loathing. Or even hatred. An emotion so strong that it blocks out every other feeling you have. It must be like molten lava in your blood vessels. You must want to kill above all other things. To end the life of another living thing, Vega. Otherwise, you’re simply wasting your breath. It is horrible to kill someone. So to take the life of another, you must become horrible.”
I cleared my throat and said slowly, “I don’t know if I could ever feel that way about anyone. I mean there were blokes in Wormwood that I didn’t much care for. But I couldn’t kill them. I mean I just wouldn’t.”
“Would you rather it be you dead, or your enemy?” she retorted. “For I can tell you quite plainly that a Maladon confronting you will not hesitate to kill.”
I sat back and thought this through. To get through the Quag and do what I needed to do, would I have to become a killer?
It seemed that I would.
I ROSE EARLY NEXT light and dressed quickly. I could hear no one stirring yet. Even Harry Two was still asleep at the foot of my bed. I walked down the hall and stopped in front of one of the doors that had refused me entry my first night here. I took out my wand, gave it three parallel flicks and said, “Crystilado magnifica.” I jumped back so far that I actually slammed into the opposite wall.
Full in my face, burning a hole in my brain really, was a jabbit curled up in a cage made of brilliant light. The terrible creature was fast asleep, its hundreds of eyes closed. But sleeping or not, I wanted to run away shrieking.
Instead, I tapped my wand against my leg, hissed “Pass-pusay” and thought of my destination. Anywhere but here, actually.
Moments later I was outside the cottage and also free of the green dome.
I looked around at the peace and quiet of an early morning’s light. I got a running start and took to the air with Destin firmly around my waist. I kept my gaze swiveling back and forth both above and below, my wand at the ready.
A sudden gust of wind hit me and I went into a dive. I caught myself in plenty of time, at least a hundred feet up in the air. Righting myself, I looked ahead and paled. The clear sky had turned to a towering darkened mass. Jagged skylight spears were being cast out of the black clouds. Accompanying thunder-thrusts pierced my ears. I had no choice but to flee to the ground.
I landed hard and stumbled a bit before regaining my balance. I looked upward. The sky was once more crystal clear.
What the Hel?
I bent my knees and shot upward. I was immediately engulfed in horrendous wind and torrential rain. I was flipped and shoved all across the sky, the rain hitting me so hard it felt like whacks from a piece of wood. The water blasted in my eyes and down my throat, making me gag.
I shot downward and sprawled on the ground, soaked to the bone.
I rolled over and looked up once more. The sky was all blue again.
I twisted my hair, wringing the water out of it, and did the same with my clothes. When I looked to my right, I was so astonished I touched my arm to make sure I was still where I thought I was. Because it was me approaching me! Barely ten feet from me, it stopped and stared. Now, I’ve had experience with a maniack, a despicable creature-thing that can take the form of someone and then clutch on to you and make you relive your worst fears while it slowly crushes you to death. But I had never been confronted by, well, me.
Of course I knew it wasn’t me. It had to be some creature that was intending to do me harm. Well, I was prepared for that. I would just do something to scare it off. I raised my wand, pointed it at the creature, gave my wand a flick, kept my eyes on the thing’s right arm and said, “Injurio.”
The pain was so immediate and so intense that I gasped, bent over and grabbed my right arm. That had really hurt. I must have done the spell wrong.
I pointed my wand at my arm and said, “Eraisio.” The pain stopped.
I looked at the creature. It had drawn closer. It was my exact double. And now my fear was mounting. Though it had done nothing threatening, every instinct I had was telling me to be very afraid.
Focusing my mind, body and spirit, I pointed my wand at its leg, gave a slashing movement with my wand and said, “Jagada.”
Four rips in my leg appeared and I howled in agony, dropped to the dirt and clutched my wounded limb. Tears in my eyes at the pain, I looked up to see the creature now standing barely a foot from me.
The thing’s mouth opened and I saw inside hideous rows of blackened, sharpened teeth. Then a tongue flicked out and licked my face. But it wasn’t a pleasant touch. I could instinctively tell it was tasting me. Blind with pain and fury and not wanting to be eaten, I raised my wand, gathered my hatred for the thing, focused my mind, body and spirit and screamed, “Rig —”
I never finished because my voice was gone, which meant I couldn’t complete the spell. This thing must have done it. And without my voice, how could I stop it from eating me?
The thing opened its mouth wider. All I could see was this impossibly large black hole big enough to actually swallow me whole.
“Impairio,” a voice said.
A blindingly white light hit the thing full in the face. It instantly changed into a blackened husk that was all teeth and gnarled limbs with a single massive eye.
Then the same voice said sharply, “Rigamorte.”
A coal-black beam shot out and hit the creature directly in the chest. It burst into a huge ball of smoke and then was gone.
I turned to see Astrea standing there, her wand still upraised. She looked down at me, pointed her wand at my leg and said quietly, “Eraisio.”
My cuts instantly healed. I stood on shaky legs.
She pointed her wand at my face and said, “Unmutado.”
“What was that thing?” I asked, my voice now returned.
She looked at where the creature had been. The grass underneath was burned.
“A dopplegang. A creature that can become whatever it sees. In this case i
t became you.”
“But when I tried to cast a spell on it, the spell hit me instead.”
“That’s the primary strength of the dopplegang. Its prey will strike out at the thing, never realizing that it is, in fact, attacking itself. The dopplegang will wait patiently for its prey to kill or incapacitate itself, and then it will eat the unfortunate one.”
“So when I tried to use the Rigamorte curse?”
“I stopped you. Because you would have killed yourself.”
“But how did you stop me?”
“Mutado. A spell that takes your voice away. I just performed the reverse curse, which is why you can speak once more.”
“And you struck the dopplegang blind because if it can’t see, it can’t become something else? Meaning it reverts back to its true self?”
“And with that defense gone, I was able to kill it.” She added sternly, “You’re quite fortunate that I found your room empty and came looking for you.”
“I was flying around when a storm struck.”
“Of course it did.”
“Because the Quag doesn’t want me to fly over it?”
Her angry look faded. “Excellent, Vega. You are treating the place as a living, breathing, evolving organism, as well you should.” She looked at the spot where the dopplegang had been. “You actually learned a valuable lesson this light, Vega. You must be prepared for anything. I can teach you much, but I can’t teach you all that you will face in the Quag.” She pointed ahead with her wand. “The first of the Five Circles lies just out there. Destin’s flying ability will be limited from now on.”
“But not impossible?”
“No. But you should use it only in extreme circumstances. And even then the danger you’re fleeing may be as nothing to the peril you create by attempting to fly.” She looked pointedly at me. “But speaking frankly, please do not think that all three of you will make it through alive. The odds against that are so enormous as to approach the miraculous. And while I do obviously believe in magic, I do not and never have believed in miracles.”
She turned and walked off. But I stood there, as though rooted in the dirt of this awful place. I’m not sure the dopplegang could have hurt me any more than Astrea just had.
The Keeper Page 16