David Baldacci - The Keeper

How could Petra know there was a place to go to?

I opened my eyes, reached in my cloak pocket and pulled out the wrinkled parchment pages. I pointed my wand and muttered, “ Illumina.” But mere light was not going to make the strange inkings understandable. In frustration I smacked the parchment with my wand and said, “Make sense.”

Next moment, I almost dropped the thing. The words on the first page started swirling around and around, like water going down a drain. But the words didn’t disappear. And yet they didn’t re-form into words that I could understand either. Instead, they came together and out of their midst a face materialized on the parchment. It was the aged, wrinkled, heavily bearded countenance of a male I had never seen before. He seemed to look directly at me.

“Who holds the parchment?” he asked.

Well, blimey , I thought. With my voice quavering, I said, “I do.”

“Your name?”

“Vega Jane.”

He seemed to consider my response for a few moments. I took the opportunity to glance around. Lackland and Petra continued sleeping. Delph was far away, sitting on the rock, his back to me. Harry Two panted quietly next to me, staring at the face.

“I do not know you,” said the male.

“Well, I don’t know you either.”

“How came you to have the parchment?”

“Lackland Cyphers and Petra Sonnet. They’re Furinas. They had it. Or you, rather.”

He nodded, but said nothing.

“The parchment was all gibberish before. They could never read it.”

“Then you must possess a wand.”

“I do.”

“A sorceress, or a witch if you prefer. From where do you come?”

“Wormwood. But I was trained up as a sorceress after I left there.”

“For what purpose would you be trained up?”

This bloke was too nosy. “Why so many questions, eh?”

“I have been part of parchment for a very long time with no one with whom to converse. You would be inquisitive too in that position.”

That seemed reasonable enough. “Well, who are you? And how came you to be in the parchment in the first place?”

“You would not know me, as I do not know you.”

“Perhaps I know some of your descendants if you are so very old.”

“I meant I am not a real, living thing.”

My eyes widened. “Then what are you?”

“I am a remnant.”

“A remnant ? What is that?”

“A collection of memories from an assortment of folks. A record, if you will, of their remembrances.”

“So you have recorded in you the information from the Furinas?”

“Not them, no. I do not know how these Furinas came to possess me.”

“Who else, then?”

“I go far back. To the ones who created this place.”

I took a deep breath. This bloke could be of help. In a lot of ways.

“Okay. But why gibberish on parchment?”

“That was for protection, in case the parchment fell into the wrong hands.”

“I see. Smart, considering the Maladons can do magic too.”

Now the bloke settled his gaze on me and I knew he could see me as well as I could see him. “And how do you know about them ?”

I said, “Astrea Prine. Do you know Astrea?”

“I can know no one. I am a remnant. But I have heard the name. She is a powerful sorceress. The Keeper of the Quag in fact.”

I looked around again, but Lackland and Petra still slept and Delph still kept watch. I glanced down at Harry Two and found his gaze remained directly on the image.

“You say you cannot speak unless someone has a wand. But what if the wand holder was a Maladon?”

“I can tell.”

“How?”

“For me, the wand of a Maladon produces only darkness. Yours was, by comparison, a bright, shining light.”

“We’re traveling across the Quag. Can you help us do so?”

He shook his head. “It is impossible.”

I said defiantly, “We reached Astrea’s cottage. We cleared the perfect maze back in the First Circle and defeated both a manticore and a wendigo in the process. And now we’re in the Second Circle, where I have killed two colossals.”

This seemed to give him pause. “Impressive,” he said at last.

“So can you help me?”

“I’m not sure how.”

“You said you have remembrances from those who created the Quag.”

“ ’Tis true.”

“The Second Circle,” I said. “It’s full of beasts that want to do us in. But are there creatures that can aid us?”

He said immediately, “Hyperbores live here. You’ll want to befriend them.”

“How?”

“Hyperbores will respond to the same things that make friends everywhere. Respect and kindness. Now, I am tired. I haven’t spoken this much in, well, never.”

“But I can call you back, right?”

“If you desire. Just tap your wand as you did before.”

“And you have no name?”

“You may call me Silenus, Vega.”

And before I could utter a response, he was gone and the gibberish had returned to the paper. I got up and raced over to Delph and told him everything that had just happened.

His jaw dropped farther and farther as I recounted the story.

“Silenus, a bloody remnant?” he said when I had finished.

“Yes. So what do you think?”

“I think we need to find these hyperbores.” He glanced at where Petra and Lackland lay sleeping. “And maybe they can help us, eh? They know about hyperbores. They nick from ’em.”

Despite the truth of his words, my spirits sank a bit for an obvious reason.

Bloody Petra.

I awoke to a sight that made me close my eyes and groan.

Delph had his shirt off and Petra was rubbing his blackened arm with some stuff she had mixed in a small pail and was applying with a wet cloth. They were chatting amiably and she laughed at something he said.

I glanced over at Lackland to find his gaze fixed on the pair. He looked like I imagined I did. I didn’t know if he had any particular feelings for Petra, but they had been together for a while. Or maybe he was only having a difficult time adjusting to our presence.

I scrambled to my feet and walked over to them.

“Delph, aren’t you cold without your shirt?”

I expected him to look embarrassed and quickly don his clothes. But he didn’t. He looked up at me and said, “Pet’s been cleaning up me arm. Whatever that stuff is, it feels right good, Vega.”

I felt myself do a double take. Never in all his life had Delph called me simply Vega. It was always Vega Jane. But not this light.

And there was something else. “Pet?” I said.

She gave me a look that had a coy smile tacked on to it. It was all I could do not to pull my wand and turn her into a, well, I don’t know what, but it would be pretty disgusting.

“That’s what my friends call me,” she said. “Petra is a bit formal.” She looked around. “And I don’t think formal is what we are. Not me and Delph here.” She looked at her pail. “I could use some more water. Would you like to fetch some, Vega Jane ?”

Okay, two could play this game.

I told Petra to hold her pail next to a nearby tree. I pointed my wand at a spot above the pail and said, “ Springato erupticus .”

Water flowed into the bucket.

“That’s amazing,” said Petra.

I gave my wand a bit more of a flick and my mind, body, spirit a bit more of a kick and the water came out like a gusher, blasting her so hard she was knocked off her feet and doused.

“Whoops,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”

But she was laughing. “ ’Tis fine, Vega. Haven’t had a proper bath in forever.”

Despite how I loathed her, I had to laugh. It sounded like something I would say myself.