The Keeper

by David Baldacci

  “Okay, but when we run into these alectos, don’t forget what Micha said.” We headed to the cave.

  “Illumina.” The inside of the cave instantly became lighted and I went first, looking in all directions for evil creatures with vipers for hair and blood for eyes.

  “Stay close,” I said over my shoulder. “And stay ready.”

  “What does this Finn thing look like?” Delph whispered. Still, it sounded like he had shouted as his words echoed through the confined space.

  “I don’t know. Micha didn’t say. But I assume it will be pretty obvious what these alectos are guarding when we get —”

  I couldn’t finish because we were tumbling downward; the once level floor had now become sharply angled. I hit something hard and stopped. Then the others crashed into me. We lay there for a few moments in a mass of arms, legs and torsos.

  And then we heard it. I leapt up, my wand in hand.

  The others scrambled to recover their weapons.

  “Illumina,” I said again. When I saw what was there, my lungs seized.

  A dozen figures surrounded us. They were all clad in black rags. But I didn’t really focus on that because of the swaying serpents astride their heads. And, as Micha had said, the creatures’ eyes were dripping blood.

  Over their shoulders in a small niche in the rock wall, illuminated by a light source not readily apparent, was a tiny wooden peg with a loop of twine wound around it. The twine was knotted in places.

  Was that the Finn? I wondered. The thing we had risked our lives coming down here for? A peg and string! For the love of Steeples. Had Micha deliberately led us on a fool’s errand to our doom?

  “Vega Jane!” cried out Delph.

  I came around in time to see an alecto launch at me. At the very last moment, I remembered Micha’s words of caution.

  Don’t look at the serpents. Look at the alecto’s eyes.

  “Impacto!” I cried, making the motion with my wand.

  The alecto that had nearly reached me was thrown backward against the wall, where it slumped to the ground, its serpents dangling limply.

  I turned in time to see Delph swing his ax and behead another alecto that had attacked him.

  Petra fired an arrow into the chest of another. It fell dead at her feet.

  Lackland swung his sword with surprising skill, taking out two more alectos with deft thrusts into their torsos.

  “Delph, no!”

  It was Petra screaming.

  I whipped around, even though I had two alectos bearing down on me, to find Delph — his eyes full on the swaying serpents perched on another alecto’s head — raise his ax with the clear intent of plunging it against himself.

  “Lassado!” I exclaimed. A rope shot from the end of my wand, spun around the ax handle, and I gave a tremendous pull. I ripped the ax from Delph’s hand and guided it smack against the neck of the alecto that had duped him.

  The head of serpents fell neatly to the ground.

  Then I felt the impact with my shoulder, turned and saw the serpent prepare for another strike against me.

  An arrow hit the alecto square in the face and dropped it dead.

  I flashed Petra a grateful look and then checked where the serpent had bitten into me. It had struck the leather harness, but fortunately its fangs had not penetrated my skin.

  I spun around and leapt over three alectos who were at that moment charging me. As I somersaulted over them, I aimed my wand at their backs and said three times, “Severus.”

  Their torsos separated from their legs and they all fell dead.

  I looked around for something else to attack but found that the others had finished off the remaining alectos.

  I ran to the niche and cautiously looked at the Finn. It glowed brightly under the light. Delph joined me and said, “You figger that’s it?”

  “Has to be.”

  I reached up and gripped the thing, half expecting something bad to happen to me. But nothing did.

  I grinned at Delph. “We did it.”

  “Vega!” screamed Petra.

  I turned around. A section of wall had opened up. And charging through it were at least a hundred alectos.

  Delph yelled, “We’re goners!”

  I gaped. I had no idea what to do. I looked at the Finn. My hand was trembling so badly that I nearly dropped it.

  Petra raced over and snatched the Finn from me. She undid one of the knots.

  The next moment, I was hit by a force of wind so powerful that it lifted me off my feet and knocked the senses clean out of me. I closed my eyes and saw nothing but a swirl of darkness.

  I thought I must be dead. Because this must be what death looks like.

  Nothing.

  VEGA JANE? VEGA Jane?”

  I heard my name and slowly opened my eyes.

  I had expected to see the darkness of the cave or the black of death, but I saw neither. Instead I saw light.

  I looked up at Delph, who hovered over me with such a look of fear that my heart went out to him. I gripped his hand.

  “I’m okay, Delph.”

  I sat up and looked around.

  Petra was tending to Lackland, who had a gash on his head.

  Then I saw with a rush of fear that Harry Two was covered in blood.

  “Harry Two!” I cried out and tried to jump up.

  “ ’Tis okay, Vega Jane,” said Delph, pushing me back down.

  “It’s not okay. He’s covered in blood.”

  “Used the Stone on him. He’s fine. His chest got caught on some rock when we got blown from that place. But he’s all healed up.” He looked over at Petra and Lackland. “Tried to use the Stone on him, but Pet wouldn’t let me. Don’t trust it, I guess.”

  I rose gingerly. “How did we get out of that place?”

  In answer, Delph held up the Finn and handed it to me. I could see that the twine was once more tightly looped around the peg, but the first knot was still undone.

  “I ’spect it has something to do with this.”

  I looked down at the Finn and thought back. “The wind that blew us out of there and saved our lives. It came from this?” Then I remembered something else. I stared over at Petra.

  “You undid the knot and that caused the wind. How did you know to do that?”

  She looked at each of us nervously. “I don’t know. I was just fumbling with it. To make it do something. I was just lucky.”

  I glanced at Delph. He was nodding. “Right glad you did, or else we’d be dead.”

  Lackland too was nodding and grinning. “Pet keeps her head when things get rough, I know that.”

  But I wasn’t smiling. I didn’t believe her. Even if Delph and Lackland hadn’t seen it, I had. Petra wasn’t “fumbling” with the Finn. She knew exactly what she was doing. But how? I was still staring at her when she glanced at me. She could easily read the suspicion in my eyes. And I didn’t care if she did. Because I was suspicious.

  “Yeah … lucky,” I said slowly, before putting the Finn away in my cloak pocket.

  Delph said, “But how will a big wind help us get through the Second Circle?”

  “No idea,” I said quite truthfully. I looked at Petra. “Any thoughts on that, Pet?”

  “No,” she said, staring right back at me.

  “Close enough call,” said Lackland, rubbing at his injury while Petra was trying to swipe his hand away.

  I took the Stone from Delph, rose, walked over to them, waved the Stone over the injury, thought good thoughts and the wound vanished.

  “Bloody Hel,” exclaimed Petra as Lackland ran astonished fingers over the now repaired skin.

  He looked at the Stone and said, “What is that thing?”

  “In this place, it’s our best friend.”

  I put the Stone away and said, “We need to push on before it gets much darker. Then we can camp for the night and get an early start.”

  Lackland eyed the dense trees that lay ahead. “What do you think is in there?”<
br />
  “Ruddy things that can kill us,” said Delph. “That’s what.”

  We grabbed our tucks and trudged on. I would have liked to fly, but while the hyperbores apparently could do so with no storms to trouble them, I knew what would happen if we took to the air.

  We wended our way through the trees and forest paths so dark that I was compelled again and again to illuminate our way with my wand. Finally, when our legs could carry us no farther, we settled in for the night in a tiny clearing.

  Petra and Delph gathered some wood, which I then lit with my wand. Lackland used an iron skillet he had brought to cook up some of our provisions.

  I filled the goblets that Astrea had given us and then poured some water into a bowl for Harry Two.

  We had escaped death from the alectos by such a slim margin, yet I was also heartened because we had all fought well together. But then a depression set in and all I could see were dismal outcomes, all of us lying dead while a herd of ugly creatures hovered over us, eagerly awaiting the coming feast. And what if these awful beasts ever invaded Wormwood? My brother and every other Wug would die. I shivered at the thought and tried my best to think of other things.

  Later, after everyone had settled down — Delph had drawn the first watch — I slipped over to Lackland and sat cross-legged next to him where he lay on a bed of leaves.

  “You fought well,” I said.

  “But that wand-a yours. ’Tis quite a weapon, it is.”

  “Have you ever been this far before?”

  He shook his head. “Never needed to, never wanted to, till you lot came along.” He grinned, though the look died on his lips as he gazed over at the fading fire. “Scary thing to leave what you know.” He glanced at me. “But look at me telling you that. You left everything behind to come to this place.”

  “To come through this place,” I amended.

  “Aye,” he agreed.

  We both grew silent, listening to the soft pops and crackles of the dying fire.

  “Do you think we’ll really make it?” asked Lackland in a resigned tone. And it was then I fully realized that he was not that much older than I was.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, Lack.”

  He nodded and idly rubbed at his beard. “What do you think is beyond here?”

  “I just hope whatever it is, it’s better than this place.”

  He chuckled. “Well, it would have to be, wouldn’t it?”

  I wasn’t nearly as sure as he was about that.

  I bid him good night and went over to sit next to Petra.

  She gazed up at me from her bed of leaves. I wanted to broach the subject of the Finn again, but she probably sensed what I was going to do and was quicker.

  “You say there are three more circles after this one?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  She let out a breath and looked toward where we had come.

  “Having second thoughts?” I said.

  “It was only a matter of time before me and Lack were killed back there. So if we die here, what does it matter?” She paused and said, “So are you and Delph … just friends?”

  Were Delph and I more than friends? In some ways we were like brother and sister. In other ways? Well, we had kissed.

  “What does it matter to you?”

  “I like him.”

  “I like him too.”

  “So I guess that answers my question,” she said, eyeing me steadily.

  I rose and looked down at her. “I guess it does.” I felt cold chills in my belly.

  To ward them off, I took the Finn out. “I never would have thought to undo the knots, and yet I’m a trained sorceress.”

  I let that statement hang there like a storm cloud between us.

  “Well, maybe you need to be trained up better.”

  I almost smiled at her sarcastic remark. Almost. Because again Petra’s words reminded me of something I would have said.

  I left her and lay back on my bed of leaves with my tuck under my head. I didn’t drift off to sleep. My mind wouldn’t allow it. I plucked the parchment from my pocket, made sure no one was watching and then tapped it with my wand.

  An instant later the image of Silenus faced me once more.

  I said quietly, “We befriended the hyperbores and managed to get the Finn from the alectos.”

  He looked at me with raised eyebrows and an expression of surprise.

  “The Finn. Did you indeed?”

  “We know if you undo one of the knots, it makes a big wind. What else does the Finn do?”

  “It will defend you against the greatest threat you will face in the Second Circle.”

  Okay, I thought, that was a little vague.

  “Do you have it with you?” he asked.

  I pulled it out and held it up for him to see.

  “Very good,” said Silenus. “Now, there are three knots.”

  I looked at the twine. “I know. Undoing one knot created a mighty wind.”

  “The Finn is a particular magical element with a specific power. As you discovered, undoing one of the knots creates a powerful wind. Undoing the second knot produces gale force winds.”

  Well, I thought, if it were much stronger than the first wind, that was something indeed.

  “And the third knot?” I asked.

  “A wind of unimaginable strength, equal to many times that of the most powerful storm you have ever encountered.”

  I looked down at the peg and twine. Blimey. All that from something so small and simple? And if undoing the first knot had been what had blown us out of the cave, I couldn’t imagine ever undoing the third one.

  “So it will save us from the gravest danger here. What might that be?”

  “Alas, you ask something to which I do not know the specific answer. But I do know that the Finn will be very helpful to you.”

  I looked over at Lackland and Petra.

  “Where do they come from?” I asked. “The Furinas we came upon in here?”

  Silenus took some time considering my question.

  “When Wormwood was created, so was the Quag, surrounding it certainly and completely, making escape impossible.”

  “Nearly impossible,” I corrected. “But go on.”

  “There was a transition from the great battlefields to the village of Wormwood whilst the surrounding territory representing the Quag was being conjured. One could not have expected a totally seamless migration.”

  “Meaning what, exactly?” I said.

  “Some were trapped in here and never made it to Wormwood.”

  “Trapped in here?”

  “Yes. And no doubt some were killed. But some survived. And they bore descendants. And some of those survived and some didn’t. So really the very fittest, or perhaps the luckiest, are still with us.”

  I was horrified. “How could they be left behind?”

  “It was a time of great chaos and confusion, Vega Jane.”

  I decided to ask him something that had been bothering me. “Could there be descendants of Maladons in here?” The image of Petra held steady in my mind.

  “I cannot say for certain. If there are, they may not even know it.”

  “Tosh! How could they not know it?”

  “Well, you didn’t know you were a sorceress, did you?”

  Okay, he had me there.

  I slowly put the parchment away in my cloak, rolled over and stared at Petra. I could tell she wasn’t asleep. She was staring upward, apparently lost in thought.

  I lay back and closed my eyes. But I knew I could not sleep. I understood quite clearly that there were creatures in here that would kill me simply because they were wild beasts.

  But if Petra was a Maladon? What if she was leading us into some sort of trap?

  It seemed my most dangerous enemy could be right here beside me.

  WE WALKED ALONG meandering forest paths for three full lights and nights without encountering a single threat. This should have made me feel better. But it didn’t. In fa
ct, I was feeling more and more depressed because I was certain that around the next bend, we would be attacked by something we could not defeat.

  Each time we stopped to eat, to rest or for water, I could tell the others were thinking the very same thing. After nearly dying at the hands of the dreadful alectos, it was no surprise that we were all on edge.

  Another two lights and nights passed and we saw not a single living creature, either friend or foe. I would have taken a right good fight over the sea of endless trees, placing one foot in front of the other and feeling my spirits continue to ebb away. The forest here was so dense that all we saw were twisted trunks and tangles of branches and dark leaves with not one bird on them. They wedged in on us the farther along we went, to where I had to use the Illumina spell as soon as we set off. There was something very disconcerting about being in darkness all the time. And combined with how tense we were already, the effect was one of suffocating melancholy.

  It got to the point where we dragged ourselves up at first light, ate a bit of food, packed up and set off without a word to one another. As we trudged along, glances were sullen and the few remarks were short and abrasive. Our body language was that of defeat.

  Lackland almost never talked; he just glared at everyone.

  Petra didn’t glare, but I could tell she was not happy.

  Even Delph was not himself. He once snapped at Harry Two just because my canine accidentally bumped into him and caused him to spill a bit of water. Only my canine seemed to be able to rise to the occasion. He trotted along, his smile wide but his senses, I knew, on high alert. He was the only thing during that time that could lift my spirits. But still, it wasn’t enough.

  We had stopped for our night meal and were clustered around the campfire, when Lackland finally erupted. “This is bloody stupid, this is,” he snapped.

  “What is?” I demanded hotly.

  “We have no idea where the Hel we’re going. We could be going in circles, for all you know. Or can you tell one ruddy tree from another?”

  “Well, I don’t see you jumping up to lead us,” snapped Delph.