The Keeper (9 page)

I started hacking the ropes as fast as I could, but they were stout.

Another great crash came and the door split a bit, yet still held.

I heard Thorne roar, “Fetch the cannon!”

Delph grabbed the knife from me and starting sawing at the ropes like a Wug possessed. I looked up and saw the still stormy sky through the opening. Delph had three more ropes to slash. Harry Two clambered up onto the edge of the carriage and began to gnaw at one of them.

I looked around the interior of the carriage for the steering mechanism and the oars that would allow us to navigate. I mentally went through our plan and discovered about four thousand things that could go wrong.

When I heard the cannon being rolled down the passageway, I called out to Sieve, “How are you going to get out of here?”

He held up his claws and smiled, once more showing his stained, pointy teeth. “S’long as I have these, I have a way out.”

Then he turned and attacked the rock wall behind him.

Harry Two had cut through his rope. Delph was just about done with his, which left only one.

I gripped it in my hands and pulled with all the strength that Destin provided me. The metal peg that the rope was attached to had been driven deep into the rock. But with one mighty tug, it came free. I fell over backward and hit my head on the fire contraption. I rose up at the same time the carriage did. It was a surprisingly fast ascent. But not fast enough.

The roar of the cannon came an instant later, followed by the door and the crates being blown aside as though they weighed nothing.

Delph screamed.

Harry Two barked.

I ducked.

The cannonball shot between the carriage and the bottom of the bladder.

When I rose back up, I couldn’t believe our good fortune.

It had missed us completely and we were very nearly through the opening that would lead us to the outside. But when I looked at Delph, I knew I’d been wrong. The cannonball had hit the rock wall, and a chunk of stone had flown off and slashed Delph’s arm. He had dropped to the carriage’s bottom, clutching his limb. The blood was pouring down his front.

I knelt beside him and held out the Adder Stone.

“Where’d you get that?” he cried out, his face twisted in pain.

“Nicked it from Thorne’s robe when we were cartwheeling across the sky.”

I waved it over Delph’s wound and thought good thoughts and the blood ceased and the slash healed. Then I used it to fix my wounds from fighting Thorne. I heard shouts and looked over the edge of the aero ship.

Thorne was down there with his fist upraised and his features awash in fury. I could only smile, though, as I looked at his battered face and broken nose.

Then I saw movement to the right of Thorne. It was Sieve. He had stuck his head out of a hole, apparently to see what was going on.

Before I could utter a warning, Thorne, who seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, had turned and fired his morta. The projectile caught Sieve full in the face. He slumped down in the hole, dead.

“You bloody murderer!” I screamed at Thorne.

“I will kill you too!” he roared back.

Then we were through the hole and out into the open expanse of the Quag, where we were quickly slammed by the wind. It was pushing us back toward the cliff. That was not what I wanted.

“Delph,” I called out. “The oars.”

He dropped down onto the bench, gripped an oar in each hand and pulled.

“The other way!” I shouted over the blasts of the storm.

“Right,” he said, and he reversed his sitting position and tugged on the oars.

I snatched the wheel and did my best to guide us where we needed to go.

Every sliver, I looked down at the ground to see what was going on. Then I finally saw what I knew I would. Thorne and his army of ekos. They were about fifty feet behind us.

“Okay, Delph, you can stop rowing.”

“Are they catching up?”

“Yes.”

He dropped the oars and joined me at the side of the aero ship.

I looked ahead of us. The Quag had changed yet again. The mountains, the river and the ridges all had exchanged places. I could feel a current of energy in the air. And for some reason, I didn’t think it was from the storm.

I looked behind us. A column of ekos was aiming their long-barreled mortas directly at the aero ship. Thorne was right behind them, gazing up at us with great delight. I turned to Delph and nodded.

He gripped the cord dangling near the wheel and pulled it, releasing the air from the bladder. We began to lower.

I hoisted Harry Two into the harness. “Delph, take my hand. It’s time.”

He grabbed our tucks with one hand and gripped my hand with his other. I led him over to the far side of the carriage, away from Thorne and the ekos.

We held hands, each of us looking at the other.

“If this don’t work,” said Delph.

“It will work,” I said firmly.

“Right, but if it don’t, well.” He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek.

The mortas fired and projectiles tore into the bladder, riddling it with holes.

“Now!” I screamed. I kicked the contraption holding the fire, knocking it over. The wooden carriage quickly became ablaze.

We clambered up on the edge of the carriage and leapt.

Another round of mortas fired off, blasting into the carriage.

I looked behind us and saw that the aero ship was starting to fall.

Right before we were about to hit the ground, I straightened out and we zoomed along just above it. I looked back again and saw the aero ship hit the ground with a tremendous crash, and as the remnants of the bladder fell on top of the carriage, there was a mighty explosion. The flash of light and geyser of smoke towered above us.

Well, I thought, that was the end of Thorne’s chance to attack Wormwood. Even if he somehow managed to escape Luc and the other ekos, he would never be able to build another aero ship.

When the smoke cleared away, Delph called out, “Vega Jane, look!”

I turned and saw a sight I will never forget.

Hundreds of armed ekos were racing toward Thorne and his much smaller band. And leading them was Luc. And held aloft in his hand was … the book — the proof of Thorne’s crimes against the ekos, unmistakably written out in the miserable bloke’s own hand.

I turned to Delph, a smile a mile wide on my face.

He gazed back. “I think this is the end of old King Thorne.”

“Bloody well overdue,” I said firmly.

I turned back around and flew along as fast as I could. About three miles farther on, I was exhausted from toting Delph and Harry Two and our bags of supplies. I aimed my head and shoulders down and we landed a sliver later.

I unhooked Harry Two from the harness and we all sank to the ground and just lay there. I was astonished that we were actually alive. As I looked over at Delph, I could tell he was thinking the exact same thing.

He said, “Well, we done it, didn’t we? All the things coulda gone wrong with our plan and we done it.” He looked down. “ ’Cept for Sieve gettin’ killed.”

“I know, Delph. We never would have made it out except for him. But he died fighting against Thorne. He was very brave.”

“Suppose you’re right, Vega Jane.”

Harry Two gave a sharp bark and we both jumped. But my canine was grinning. It was like he was agreeing with me.

I touched my cheek. “You kissed me right there, before we jumped.”

He glanced down, his eyes half-shut. “I … I …”

I reached over and kissed him on his cheek in the exact same place he’d kissed me.

“Thank you, Delph.”

He opened his eyes fully and gazed at me. “For what?”

“Just for being you. Which is pretty bloody wonderful.”

And then it happened. From nowhere a dark cloud descended upon us. I could see nothing. I heard Harry Two bark. I heard someone gasp. And then the cloud was gone.

And so was Delph.

I looked frantically around. He was nowhere. He … he was gone. The cloud! I looked to the sky. There was nothing up there except the storm. I rushed around in all directions. I looked behind trees and rocks, and raced over little knolls with Harry Two right behind me. I kept calling out for Delph until my lungs were exhausted. I collapsed to the dirt, my mind racing so fast I couldn’t think clearly. Then, as the slivers passed and there was still no Delph, I started to weep, and then cry and then sob. I sobbed so hard I vomited.

I lay there in the dirt, Harry Two curled protectively around me.

I just kept mumbling over and over, “Delph, Delph, Delph. Please come back. Please come back. Please.”

But Delph did not come back. He was gone.

I slowly rose from the ground and picked up my tuck. That’s when I realized that Delph’s tuck was gone. How could that cloud? How could … ?

The vile Thorne had told me that nothing was impossible in the Quag. Thorne! Could he have … ? But if it had been Thorne, he surely would have taken me too.

As Harry Two and I walked slowly along, I looked down at my feet. I focused on placing one foot in front of the other. I was trying to block out everything else. Most of all, I was trying to not think about Delph not being next to me. I still couldn’t quite fathom how it had happened. I even stopped and closed my eyes once, and then opened them, hoping that my nightmare would be over and there Delph would be.

He would look at me with his silly, endearing grin and say, “Wotcha, Vega Jane?”

But he wasn’t and so he didn’t.

I was just a fifteen-sessions-old female from Wormwood who felt like bawling her eyes out because her best friend was gone.

Only I couldn’t. I had no tears left to shed.

I looked ahead. The Quag stretched endlessly.

I looked above and my jaw dropped. The storm was still raging and skylight spears and thunder-thrusts had grown so ubiquitous as to be quite unremarkable. But there was something else in that sky.

It was a huge flying creature nearly the size of the inficio. I didn’t know if it was ally or foe. Then, as it swooped lower, I got a better look at it. It was a firebird. Its plumage was a mess of brilliant colors that shone like a beacon even in the darkness of the storm. Its beak and huge claws were hideously sharp. Quentin’s book had said that a firebird could be either enemy or ally. I couldn’t afford to find out which right now.

“Run!” I cried out to Harry Two.

There was only one possible escape. I saw the opening in the rock up the first ridge. I sprinted toward it, looking over my shoulder for the gigantic bird. But the skies were so dark now and the rain falling so hard that I couldn’t see much of anything.

We reached the cave opening and I stopped. Rushing headlong into a dark, confined space in the Quag might be the last thing I ever did. I took a moment to light my lantern and reached in my pocket for my glove, gripped the Elemental and willed it to full size.

I lifted the tuck over one shoulder. With the lantern in my other hand, Harry Two and I cautiously slipped into the mouth of the cave. We had gone about twenty paces when I heard a sound. It was not the growl of a beast, nor could my nose detect a foul odor of any kind. It was more like someone mumbling.

“Hello!” I called out. “Who’s there?”

Next moment the mumblings stopped. I did not take this as a good sign. My hand tightened on the Elemental. I crept forward with my canine next to me. The cave was deep and the farther we went into it, the higher and wider it became, until I could easily stand straight up.

“Hello?” I said again.

Something raced across the passage in front of us and plunged into darkness on the other side.

I dropped the lantern and aimed the Elemental. “Come out right now or else I’ll … I’ll hurt you,” I said, my voice cracking embarrassingly.

Inch by inch the thing came back into view. I picked up my lantern, holding it high and lighting the passage more fully. The creature was small and it wore a hooded cloak.

“Who are you?” I said breathlessly.

“They calls me Seamus,” it replied in Wugish. “What be you, dearie, dearie?” He curiously eyed the Elemental cocked in my hand.

“I’m Vega Jane.” I added, “Could you tell me what you are?”

He lowered the hood. “Me’s a hob, me is.”

I knew this as soon as he dropped the hood. I’d read about hobs in Quentin’s book on the Quag. And there had also been a picture. The hob was about half my height, thick in figure with a small but wide jaw, a stout nose, and brown eyes set close above the nose, peaked ears like my canine, only longer and fuller and pinker on the inside. The fingers that had lowered the hood were long, curved and spindly with sharp-looking nails. The bare feet revealed at the hem of the too-short cloak were large and hairy. His cloak was ragged and dirty, and his face, hands and feet not much cleaner.

“I’m a Wugmort,” I said.

He inched closer and once more eyed the Elemental. I had forgotten I was still aiming it at him. I lowered it.

“Why’s you want to hurt things, dearie, dearie?”

“I don’t, unless they want to hurt
me
.”

“Hobs don’t hurt nobodys.”

Quentin’s book had said hobs would help you. All you had to do was give them little presents from time to time, though I had no inkling what an appropriate gift might be. “I’ve heard that of hobs,” I said. “Do you live in this cave?”

“Till I moves on.”

“It’s stormy outside,” I said.

“Storms and storms let a hob roams and roams,” he said nonsensically.

“Do you live in the Quag?”

“What, this here place, you mean?”

“Yes.”

He gave me a crooked grin, revealing misshapen teeth. “Where else would I live, dearie, dearie?”

“You can just call me Vega.”

“I could if I would if I could.”

My head started to throb.

“You says you’s a Wugmort? What’s that, dearie, dearie?”

“Wug for short. It’s what we call someone from Wormwood. It’s a village. The Quag surrounds it.”

He nodded, though I wasn’t sure he even knew what I was talking about.

“Look,” I said, “I have a friend, Delph. We were sitting together a ways from here when a dark cloud came down and covered us. When it lifted, he was gone. Can you help me find him? I have to find him. I have to.”

Instead of answering, the hob turned his back on me and ventured farther into the cave. I hurriedly grabbed my tuck and lantern and Harry Two and I followed him deeper into the bowels of the place.

We came to a little chamber that was outfitted with a couple of crates, a rolled-up blanket, a bucket and two lighted candles perched on rocks.

I looked around and set my tuck and lantern down and then sat on a crate. It was cold in here and winds from the storm were managing to reach us even this far, causing the candles to flicker. I shivered and drew my cloak closer around me. The next moment I felt terrible guilt. Poor Delph might be out in the storm with nothing over his head.

“You cold, dearie, dearie?” asked Seamus.

I nodded.

He sat down on a crate, drew his hand in his cloak pocket, and what he pulled out of it made me fall backward off my seat and caused Harry Two to start barking.

Seamus ignored this commotion and placed the small ball of blue fire he held in his hand on the dirt, sprinkled a bit of something he had pulled from his other pocket on the tiny tendrils of flames, and they immediately grew to over a foot in height.

I regained my seat and said, “How did you do that?”

He looked up at me with an innocent expression. “Do what?”

“Pull fire from your pocket?”

“I pulls it, I does. Does yousey?”

“No, I does notsey,” I said before catching myself. “I mean I do not. I
can’t
. Where did you learn to do it?”

“All hobs cans pull fires from their pockets. We just cans, dearie, dearie. We just cans.” He finished this statement off with a cackle.

I drew closer to the flames and felt immediate and deep warmth even though it was not a large fire. Flashing through my mind was a remembrance from many sessions ago.

My mother and father and my brother were sitting in front of the fire back at our modest digs in Wormwood. We had eaten our usual small meal. We never had much in terms of things. But I remember sitting on the floor in front of that fire and looking around at each of them, my father with his ready smile, my mother with her kind ways, and my brother staring at a spider in the corner of the ceiling and silently counting its legs, and thinking I was the luckiest Wug there ever was.

The memory faded and I refocused. “Can you help me find my friend?” I said again. I pulled some tins of food and a jug of water from my tuck. “Would you like some of my food and water?” I asked. I had no idea if this would constitute a proper gift, but I had to try.

“What you gots, dearie, dearie?”

“Smoked meat, cheeses, breads, fried pickles, vegetables and some apples and pears, among other things.”

He looked disappointed. “Is that alls?”

I looked down at my foods and wondered how there was nothing he fancied. I rummaged around in my tuck and, in doing so, brought out a tin of chocolates that I had purchased from Herman Helvet’s shop back in Wormwood. Quick as a flash, Seamus seized the tin and sniffed it.

“This be what Seamus wants, dearie, dearie.”

“The whole tin?” I said, stunned.

He answered by using one of his fingernails to slice right through the metal top. He plucked out the chocolate on top and bit into it. He smiled, showing off his pile of crooked, darkened teeth. He devoured that chocolate and then finished off another. “Onesy-twosey for Seamus, saves the resties for later, I will.”

He put the tin down and held his hands over the flames. I stared warily at those quite sharp fingernails that had so easily cut through my tin top.

His eyes became more hooded still as he leaned back against the wall and huddled in his cloak. I listened to the storm raging outside and drew closer to the flames. Could Delph find shelter? Would something find him first? I shivered.

“Can you help me?!” I said. “Please!”

He said nothing but continued to stare at me with half-lidded eyes. Though the look was a bit creepy, I decided to carry on.

“Seamus,” I said, “I’ve given you sweets.” When he still didn’t say anything, I drew out my Quag book and opened it to the page on hobs.

I read,
“A hob is a force for good. It will befriend those in need. All one has to do is be kind to the hob and provide it a gift and it will serve the giver faithfully.”

I stopped reading and held up the book so he could see the drawing.

“Where did you gets such a thingy?” asked Seamus as he stared curiously at the picture.

“From someone who’s been in the Quag and knows of blokes like you,” I shot back.

His gaze darted to the tin of chocolates that sat next to the crate. As his hand reached out for it, Harry Two shot forward to perch in front of it, his fangs bared.

Seamus quickly withdrew his hand and said sullenly, “No needs to be like that. Seamus is a good hob, he is. Like the wordsies say.”

“So you can help me, right?” I eyed the tin of chocolates. “I’m really worried about my friend.”

Seamus clucked. “You should be, dearie, dearie.” And then he added without a trace of his claptrap, singsong speech, “For ’tis a dangerous place, this is.”

We stared at each other over the smoky flames of the ball of fire. It was suddenly so silent in the cave that I thought the storm must have ceased.

“He disappeared in a cloud,” I said again. “What might you know about that?”

Seamus put a finger up to his mouth as though signaling he was deep in thought. I watched him through the smoke of the conjured flames.

“There’s a place,” he said. “There’s a place rounds here.”

“What place?” I snapped, my fear of what might be happening to Delph growing with each breath I took.

“A cottage.”

I gaped at him. “What is a
cottage
doing in the Quag?”

On this he fell silent and closed his eyes completely.

“Seamus, what is a cottage doing in the Quag? Does someone live there?”

“Maybe someones does and maybe someones doesn’t.”

“Are you a good hob or not?” I said heatedly.

“I is a good hob.”

“So answer my question. Please.”

He opened his eyes and looked at me grumpily.

“ ’Tis a female that lives there,” he said, again with none of the claptrap.

“Dearie, dearie?” I said, my eyebrows hiked.

He sat up and looked at me. I mean he looked at me for what seemed like truly the first time.

“Who’s the female in the cottage?” I asked.

“Why you be here?” His tone was suddenly both aggressive and accusing.

“I asked first. And you’re a hob who has yet to show me kindness, despite the tin of chocolates.”

He pointed at the flames. “You were cold and now you’re not!”

“And you’ve had two of my chocolates.” I picked up the can and tossed it to him. He caught it neatly. “And nearly a full tin to spare.”