David Baldacci - The Keeper

The place we were taken was a large, low-ceilinged cave roughly forty feet long and twenty wide. Light came from fired smoky candles that were lined up on a table struck from solid rock, with rough-hewn wooden chairs all around.

Thorne pointed to the seats and said, “Please, be comfortable. The meal will be along presently.”

He took a seat at the head of the table. There was a large T carved in the back of his seat. For the king, I imagined. Delph and I shared a contemptuous look. What a ginked-up git.

I said, “The grass that grows on the ekos?”

Thorne smiled approvingly. “Oh, you noticed that, did you?”

Well, I could hardly miss it, I thought. “So what is its purpose?”

“It helps them do what they do,” he replied in a casual tone.

A noise in the doorway made us turn in time to see four ekos carrying in a large platter. As they drew closer into the spread of candlelight, I could see what was on it: great clumps and claws of some beast with feather and fur still attached. My stomach gave a lurch. But around the “meat” were potatoes and asparagus and beans and peppers and purple onions. And I was fairly certain that was a rutabaga staring out at me from under what looked to be a furry thigh.

“Blimey,” breathed Delph with a disgusted look.

Metal plates were thrust in front of us, with rude forks and knives metal-forged as well. One ekos, the tall one from before, served Thorne personally. Then I reckoned it was up to us to do the same for ourselves.

I avoided the clumps and claws and filled my plate with the vegetables and covered them with what I recognized as parsley and basil leaves. Delph did likewise, though I did see him tear off a chunk of meat that looked rather well smoked. A goblet of water was placed next to my plate by the hand of an ekos, so I got a much better look at the grass growing on it. In fact, some of it brushed against my hand. It felt hard and prickly.

I drank some of the water, and Delph did also. I let a bit of my rutabaga fall to the floor for Harry Two. Delph followed with a slice of his meat.

“A fine canine,” said Thorne as he worked on what looked to be a wing, casually plucking off feathers as he did so.

“Thank you. So you have water resources here?” It was not an idle question. We needed water to survive our journey through the Quag.

“An underground stream. Quite tasty.”

Delph spat a piece of hardened skin from his mouth and muttered something about, “And why can’t the bloody food be the same?”

Thorne pointed to the half-eaten joint of meat in Delph’s large hand. “What you have is a bit of attercop. Don’t actually care for it myself. But the buggers are plentiful up on the surface of the Quag and quite easy to trap.”

“Attercop?” said Delph quizzically. “Never heard of it.”

“Well, you might know it by another term: spider?”

With an enormous cough, Delph expelled his mouthful of meat and it hit the wall opposite.

I looked at Thorne, fearing his reaction to this.

For a long moment, Thorne simply stared at Delph, and then he looked at the slop of spider meat sliding down the wall of his eating room. When he glanced back, he burst into a fit of laughter, which we soon both joined.

After we had quieted, Thorne rubbed his eyes. “Delightful,” he said. “Never cared much for spider myself, as I said. Chewy, you know. And then of course, there is the question of the venom. Stick to the rutabagas. They never lead you astray, the noble rutabaga. Nothing dodgy about dear old rutabagas.”

We continued to eat our meal, now chatting pleasantly.

I said, “You mentioned there were other things living down here?”

“Well, there are the ekos of course. Quite civilized.” He stroked his beard with his index finger. “Then there are the gnomes.”

“The gnomes ?” I said. I had never heard the term.

“Yes, yes. Well, sometimes I call them the unders, you know, because, well, they dig under the rock for things that we require. Quite the sharp claws they have.”

“And that’s all the creatures living down here?” I said in a prompting tone.

He scowled. “Well, there are the bloody grubbs.”

“Grubbs? What do they do for you?”

“Do for us?” He bent forward and his expression became so still, it was like he had been transformed to rock. “They attack us,” he said quietly.

“Attack you?”

“Yes,” he said, his eyes narrowed to slits. “They want to kill me.”

“But why?” I asked.

He turned back to his meal without answering. Delph and I exchanged a puzzled glance. This bloke was definitely mental. I felt the hairs on my neck start to tingle.

“And what do the grubbs look like?” Delph asked nervously.

Thorne turned a very serious eye to him. “They look like the last thing you would ever want to see coming at you from out of the dark, milad. Bloody ger-rubbs,” he added in a disgusted voice.

“Where are they?” I said breathlessly. “Down here somewhere?”

“I’ll tell you where they are. They are where you least expect them to be.” He struck the stone tablet a sharp blow with his palm, which caused Delph and me to jump nearly out of our chairs. Delph accidentally spilled some of his water. Harry Two immediately started lapping it up.

“Now you must give me news of good old Wormwood,” said Thorne as he washed down a mouthful of food with the contents of his goblet. I wasn’t convinced he was drinking simply water, for he filled his goblet from time to time from a silver flask resting at his elbow. “For instance, who is Chief of Council now?” he asked.

“Thansius.”

“Good for him. Well done, Thansius.”

“So you knew him?” I asked.

“Yes. He was a good friend of Virgil’s too.” He took a sip from his goblet.

“And Morrigone’s,” I added.

This had a remarkable effect on the Wug. The color drained from his face and he choked on his draft. Regaining his breath, he said, “Morrigone, eh?”

“If it was a long time ago that you left, she might have still been very young. Or perhaps not even born yet.”

“Yes, I do believe that she was born actually.”

Watching him curiously, I said, “Morrigone is on Council now.”

He chortled, but there was no mirth in his eyes. “What else?” he asked.

Delph said, “Well, we been building this—”

I cut in. “I worked at Stacks, as a Finisher, as I said. Delph was at the Mill.”

Delph shot me an inquiring glance, but I ignored him. The truth was I didn’t want Thorne to know about the Wall. If Thorne was an Outlier or his mind had been taken over by them, the last thing I wanted was for him to learn about the enormous wall we were constructing around Wormwood to keep those very Outliers out!

I decided to get to the most important issue I wanted to ask him about. “I never heard of any other Wug heading into the Quag. It is forbidden.”

“Many things were forbidden,” replied Thorne in a more sober tone. “And yet you appear on my doorstep. What cause brings you into the mysterious Quag?”

“Curiosity,” I said immediately. “We wanted to see what was in here.”

“And beyond,” added Delph. My kick was too slow to forestall him.

“There is nothing beyond the Quag,” said Thorne sharply, eyeing us warily.

“So you’ve been to the other side of the Quag?” I asked innocently.

“No, I’ve never been past here.”

“Then how do you know there—”

He rose abruptly. “I believe that we all are extremely tired. Now your sleeping quarters are ready.” He grunted and the same large ekos appeared.

“Luc here will show you where. Off you go and pleasant sleep to you both.” He hurried away.