David Baldacci - The Keeper

“A vague feeling of terror,” she said.

“Well, now, that’s right helpful,” scoffed Delph. “I mean I doubt we’d be feeling that way otherwise, eh?”

She continued, “And a sense that the facts stored in your head are drifting away and being replaced with strange, often horrible memories that are not your own.”

“How can it do that?” I asked.

“You are being imprinted with the residual memories of the prey that the wendigo has killed in the past and which linger in its own mind.”

It all sounded horrible enough. “Then what do we do?” I asked.

“There is one and only one incantation that will defeat the wendigo.” She held her wand in front of her and then made a slashing motion that resembled the letter X . She said in a very firm, very clear voice, “ Omniall .”

“What does that do?” I asked.

“It removes the mind utterly and irreversibly.”

“It removes the mind? Then what happens to the wendigo?” I asked.

“It dies of course. That is just how it must be here.”

And I supposed she was exactly right.

We sat before the blackboard for long periods of time. I also practiced my spells and incantations, and performed reverse curses when Astrea tried to attack me. I could tell that she always held back some. But as the time passed, I could also discern that she didn’t have to hold back quite as much. What I had found, to my pleasant surprise, was that in combat I had certain instincts that served me well. I could adapt after sizing up my opponent’s strengths and weaknesses. I was quick on my feet, both literally and in my mind. I had done the same thing in the Duelum back in Wormwood on my way to becoming champion.

She also made me work through mazes she conjured inside the cottage. I had great difficulty in doing so, and often resorted to the Confuso, recuso spell. But Delph was never at a loss and was able to get us out of every single maze that Astrea created. Yet I wasn’t overly worried. So long as I had the spell, no maze could defeat us.

Over tea in the library, Archie told us that he had once thought of venturing across the Quag.

“Why?” mumbled Delph, his mouth full of biscuit.

“Well, mate,” began Archie, “when you’ve lived in the same cottage with the same person for hundreds of sessions, it gets to you. You want to try something different, don’t you? A breath of fresh air.”

“I’m not sure I’d call the Quag a breath of fresh air,” I said.

“Well, anyway, it didn’t happen.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“My mum found out about my plan and put a stop to it.”

“How? You can do magic too,” said Delph.

Archie’s expression became forlorn. “Yes, but I’m not as good as she is. She’d win every duel, hands down.”

“But she wants to help us get across the Quag,” I noted.

“Bloody ironic, ask me,” said Archie.

After our lessons were finished each light, Delph worked on maps tracing routes and learning everything he possibly could to help us. And I practiced my spells and incantations over and over. At night, Delph and I would study, talking back and forth as we sat in the book-laden library. My notebook was full with what Astrea had taught us, and the margins were heavily cluttered with additional thoughts. I’m sure that Delph’s looked the same. Most nights we fell asleep in our chairs, our parchment upon our chests, and Harry Two snoring on the floor next to us.

We were told that the Second Circle was known as the Withering Heath. It was not any sort of heath with which I was familiar. Instead, it was a vast forest with trees so densely set side by side that Astrea said it was sometimes difficult to breathe. This circle had such creatures as the deadly and quite mad lycans, which I had glimpsed through the Seer-See, and the hyperbores, which were blue and could fly, and might be an ally or an enemy. Astrea also impressed upon us that the Second Circle was full of depression and that if we allowed it, that feeling would come to dominate.

The Third Circle was the Erida Wilderness, which was actually the opposite of what I thought a wilderness should be. Astrea had said, “It’s a vast flat expanse that stretches seemingly forever. And jabbits and cucos inhabit the Third Circle.”

I well knew what jabbits were. But I had never heard of cucos.

“They will provide light in the gloom, when you might very well need it,” she said. “And, as I previously mentioned, there is the unicorn, whose horn will defeat all poisons.”

Delph and I had looked at each other. I said, “How do you get the horn?”

“There are two ways. One, you simply kill the unicorn and take it.”

I didn’t much like that way. “And the other?”

“You convince the beast to freely give it.”

“How?”

“That, you will have to figure out for yourself when the time is right.”

“But how do we figure it out?” I asked.

She had given me a disdainful look. “Not everything can be learned safely in a classroom, Vega. Education is not so neat and tidy.” She lifted her hand and pointed to the wall. “Out there is where you will learn your most valuable lessons. If you survive them, that is.” She paused and said, “There is another creature which dwells there, called Eris. He has one duty in life, to cause trouble and strife. He will do you mischief if you let him.”

“How do we defeat him?” Delph asked.

“You must learn to trust your instincts. That is the only way.”

I had looked at my ink stick as though hoping it would write down a far better answer of its own accord, but it didn’t. Lately, lessons were not going as well as they might. I was looking for precise answers and she was giving us “instincts.”

The Fourth Circle, we learned, was dominated by the Obolus River. I had sat up straight when she mentioned this. I remembered seeing the long, squiggly waterway and what looked to be a small boat upon it.

“Rubez is the boat’s pilot. He will carry you across the river, for a price.”

“What is the price?” I asked.

“The pilot is the one who sets it. You will have to ask him.”

“And what exactly is Rubez? A male?”

“Not exactly,” she answered. And I thought she might have shivered. “The river holds perils of which I am not familiar, but they are perils nonetheless.”

“How do we avoid them?” I asked.

“Stay out of the water” was her ready reply.

Next light, we walked into the classroom to find Archie there but not Astrea.

“Where is she?” I asked, setting my bound parchment on my desk.

Archie said, “She’ll be along. Just finishing up some things for this lesson, I reckon.”

“The Fifth Circle,” said Delph. “That’s what we have left. The last one.”

The door to the room opened and Astrea stepped through. At first I couldn’t think what was wrong. But then it struck me. She looked older. Her dark hair had some white in it around the roots. Her face was a little heavier, a bit saggy.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

She nodded curtly before striding up to the blackboard.

She took out her wand and tapped it against the board as Delph and I quickly took our seats. Harry Two also sat up and came to attention.

“The Fifth Circle,” she said in a weak voice.

I waited for her to conjure something on the board, but instead, Astrea sat down at her desk and clasped her hands in front of her. She said, “It is called the Blue Range. My term for it anyway. It is mountainous. It has deeply carved valleys.” She stopped speaking and her gaze took on a glassy expression, as though she were looking so far into the distance that her eyes had failed her.