David Baldacci - The Finisher

I stood and motioned for him to stand too and then I turned my back to him. “Put your arms around me.”

“What?”

“Put your arms around me, Delph. And hold tight.”

“Bloody Hel,” he exclaimed, but his arms encircled me. This close, it was surprising how truly big he was, though I had known him all my life.

“Tighter, Delph, you don’t want to fall.”

He squeezed me so tight around my middle that I could barely breathe. “Not that bloody tight!” I barked at him. His grip relaxed a bit. “Now together we’re going to jump, on the count of three. One … two … three.”

We leapt at the same time, straight up. We shot skyward. I could feel Delph’s grip around me tighten. I slowly moved myself forward so that he was now on my back. We raced along only about thirty yards up. The wind whipped over us.

“Bloody Hel!” Delph exclaimed again.

I looked back and up and saw that his eyes were closed.

“Delph, open your eyes. The view is amazing from up here.”

He opened his eyes and looked ahead of us. His grip lessened and I felt his body, stiff as a rock before, grow relaxed. “’Tis beautiful,” he said in an awed voice.

“Yes, it is. Just don’t look down yet. It takes some getting used to and —”

That was a mistake. As soon as I said “don’t look down,” Delph of course looked down. His grip around my waist became iron, his body tensed and he screamed and rolled. That sent us into a dive. We were heading to the ground far faster than I ever had, but then I realized I had never before flown with a 250-pound Wug on my back.

We were totally out of control. Delph screamed. I screamed. We were a few yards from the ground when I reached back and slapped Delph in the face. He immediately stopped thrashing. I regained control, zoomed upward and then back down in a controlled dive this time and we landed, not smoothly, but we landed. As we sprawled on the ground, I looked over at him.

“You almost killed us,” I said hotly. Then my anger faded as I remembered how it had been on my first flight. And at least I had been in control. He was just along for the ride. I stood and helped him up. “That was my fault, Delph. It will be better the next time.”

He looked at me like I was asking him to be best mates with Cletus Loon. “Next time?” he said incredulously. “’Tain’t going to be no next time, Vega Jane.”

“Do you want to get through the Quag?” He sputtered but said nothing. I continued. “Because if we can fly over parts or all of the Quag, we won’t have to worry about what’s in it.” I stared at him expectantly, tapping my boot against the dirt.

Delph blinked, slowly took this in and said, “Let’s give it another go, then, Vega Jane. Har!”

THE NEXT TWOnights, we practiced our flying. Well, I practiced while Delph hung on for his life. Finally, I slipped Destin off and handed it to him. He turned to run like a frightened Wug facing an amaroc.

“You have to try, Delph,” I said.

He turned back. “Why? You can fly the thing. All’s I need is to hold on.”

“We don’t know what might happen. You knowing how to do it by yourself is important.” He looked doubtful until I said, “You have to, Delph, if you want to come along with me.”

He gingerly took Destin from me. I had uncoiled the chain so that it was longer. Delph was wider at the waist than I was. I helped get it around him and snapped closed a metal hook I had fashioned and added to the chain.

He just stood there. “Now what?” he asked.

“Now what?” I said in amazement. “Delph, you’ve been flying with me for how long now? What do I do?”

“You either run and take off or you just jump,” he replied promptly.

“So don’t you reckon that’s what you want to do?”

“Should I run or jump?” he asked tentatively.

Males. You have to lead them to the water and then show them how to slurp it.

“I don’t care. Pick one.”

“And once I get up there, what then?”

“I’ve shown you, Delph. You know how to steer. You know how to land. Just do it like I did it.”

He backed up, got a running start and leapt. He flew straight and fast. Right into a large bush. I ran over and helped him out. He was coughing and his face was scratched from the prickly leaves.

“I can’t do this, Vega Jane. I’m no good a’tall. Me feet belong on the ground.”

“Yes, you can too do it,” I said firmly. “Now, when you run and leap, point your head and shoulders upward. Then you won’t hit the bush again. To turn, you point with whichever shoulder is in the direction you want to go. To head higher up, point your head that way. To come down, point your head and shoulders down. Right before you land, swing your feet down and you’ll land upright.”

“I’ll bash my head in.”

“You might,” I said. “But if you do, I’ll put it back together and you can try again.”

He looked at me dubiously. “You cannae put no smashed head back together.”

I took the Adder Stone out of my cloak pocket and waved it in front of his face and thought good things. The scratches there vanished. He backed away, looking fearful.

“What is that thing?” he exclaimed.

“It heals, Delph. Scratches and smashed heads. Pretty much anything.”

“It can do that?”

“Yes, it can,” I replied, though I had no actual experience with fixing smashed heads.

On his fourth attempt, Delph soared into the air, flew for about a quarter mile, made a long, if ragged, bank, turned back toward me and landed. On his feet. He was so excited at his success that he snatched me off the ground and whirled me around at such a fast pace I thought I would be sick.

“I did it, Vega Jane. I’m like a bird, I am.”

“A very big bird,” I replied. “And put me down before I vomit on you.”

I decided to show Delph the Elemental. When I first pulled the tiny spear from my cloak pocket, wearing my glove, it was not very impressive to him. And considering it was barely three inches long, I could hardly blame him. But when I focused my thoughts and asked the Elemental to return to its normal state, it grew in my gloved hand to its proper length and assumed its dazzling golden color.

Delph exclaimed, “How in the bloody Hel does it do that, Vega Jane?”

“It doesn’t matter to me how it does it, Delph,” I said. “It’s only important that it does it when I need it to.”

He reached out to take it, but I stayed his hand. “Only with this, Delph,” I said, holding up the glove.

“If you touch it without the glove, what happens?” he asked.

“Neither one of us wants to find out, do we?”

He slipped on the glove and hefted the Elemental. I looked over at a tree about thirty feet distant. “Think in your mind that you want the Elemental to hit that tree. Then throw it that way, like a spear.”

Delph looked doubtful, but he scrunched up his face — which was a bit comical, though I hid my smile — took aim and let fly.

The Elemental traveled a few yards and then dove into the dirt. Delph looked over at me, smiling. “Cor blimey. Is that all it does? Har!”

I took the glove from him, picked up the Elemental, thought about what I wanted it to do and let it fly. The tree disintegrated in a flash of light when the spear struck it. I held out my gloved hand, and the Elemental flew back to it, like the hunter hawks I had seen Duf training up.

Delph had thrown himself to the dirt when the Elemental hit the tree. When he looked up, I gazed down at him with what I hoped was a sufficiently patronizing look.

“No, that’s what it does, Delph. Har!”