David Baldacci - The Keeper

On the fourth night that I stood my watch on the edge of our campsite, I raised my wand and muttered, “ Crystilado magnifica .” I had done this before with little result. This night was to be different.

Yet I never could have imagined that I would be seeing something like this.

It wasn’t some creature way out there.

It was Delph and Petra. For some reason my spell was showing me what was behind me rather than in front.

They were very close to each other and were talking in low voices, so I could not hear. Over the last two lights and nights, I had seen them lingering together, whether it was when we were walking or sitting around our meager fire. They tended to sleep near each other as well.

But this vision?

I whirled around and quickly made my way back nearer the dying fire.

I stopped and looked.

Delph was waving the Adder Stone over Petra’s damaged hand. I knew he was thinking wonderful thoughts. And then she smiled and touched his cheek.

I turned away and walked back to my original spot, my head lowered, my eyes on my dirty boots. Delph was my best friend. Friends did not act like that with anyone else. It wasn’t... it wasn’t...

It wasn’t what, Vega?

It wasn’t what you wanted to have happen?

Well, it’s not your life. It’s Delph’s. If he likes Petra better than you, so be it.

The next moment, I froze when I heard it.

The sound of lapping water.

I ran to tell the others.

We hurried along, following the sound of water until we reached a clearing, and there it was.

The Obolus River. It was long and snakelike, twisting and turning until it was out of sight at both ends. And it was wider than I would have thought. It was actually impossible to see to the other side. But I just knew on the other side was the Fifth, and last, Circle. The only thing between the last circle and us was this body of water.

“Look there,” hissed Lackland, pointing to one side.

To our left was an old wooden pier, listing back and forth on what I supposed were partially rotted support timbers sunken in the water.

The wooden sign hung on a leaning post swung slowly in the breeze. Though we were some yards from it, the words were clear enough, even in the dark. In fact, the words seemed to glow red.

“ Blackroot Pier ,” I read.

“Vega Jane,” said Delph in a tone I had never heard him use before.

“What?” I whispered back.

But I needn’t have asked. I could see what had prompted his words.

The small, black vessel had rounded the bend and was drawing closer to the pier. At the back of it, holding a long steering oar, was a dark-shrouded figure. The boat glided over the water as if it was riding on the air just above the surface of the Obolus.

The shrouded figure expertly guided the craft to a gentle stop at the warped boards of the pier.

There was a lantern attached to a bent rod affixed to the boat’s gunwale. It gave off enough of a glow for us to see the face of the gent piloting when he lowered his hood.

We all took a step back when we saw him. It appeared to me that Rubez was a skeleton, only someone had forgotten to tell him he was no longer alive. Everything about him was bony, hollow and dead.

Yet his eyes glowed fiercely in the lantern light. The glow seemed to be the same as the fiery red of the letters on the sign. He opened his mouth and spoke at the same time that one long, bony hand reached out and beckoned to us.

“Draw close, those who wish to cross the Obolus,” he said in a voice that sounded like the low throaty rumble of an attack canine. “And Rubez will oblige.”

We drew close, stepping up onto the fragile pier, which lurched sideways under our collective weight. I thought we were all going to go tumbling into the water, but the thing righted itself and we stood level a couple of feet from Rubez.

I started to step on the boat, when Rubez barred my way with his oar. It was dripping wet and slimy.

“Oi,” I called out as I jumped back. “You said to draw close and you’d oblige.”

“Rubez is needing his due,” he croaked.

I stared at him. “What sort of due ?”

In answer, he looked at the planks of the small boat and then over at us.

“Got room for four and no more.”

I looked at the others and then turned back to him. “But we’ve got five.”

“Four and no more,” he repeated.

I pulled my wand. “And I said we’ve got five . Now, I know you want some sort of payment. And I’ll be glad to give it. But we’re all crossing this river.”

He smiled at me and his teeth were bloodred. And I noticed for the first time that his arm, exposed a bit as he wielded the oar, was covered in dark scales, like a fish. He raised his oar and then pointed it over my head.

The next moment, Delph screamed. I turned. He was on his knees, holding his head, his face contorted in agony. I grabbed him but he threw me off, fell onto his belly and started convulsing.

“Delph! Delph!”

Petra and Lackland tried to help, but they were thrown backward by some unseen force.

I pointed my wand at Delph to try to incant something that would make whatever was hurting him go away. But it was as if something was gripping my wand and pulling it away. I whirled around to stare at Rubez. He just stood there, his oar still held high, and I knew it was the source of Delph’s agony.

“Stop it!” I screamed. “Stop it, please.”

Rubez slowly lowered his oar, and Delph instantly ceased convulsing. He lay there panting.

I knelt next to him and gripped his hand. “Delph?”

“O... okay, Vega Jane,” he mumbled. “Pain’s gone. O-kay.”

I turned back to Rubez venomously. “Why the Hel did you do that?”

“Four in me boat, no more.”

I looked over his vessel. “Okay, then we can make two trips. Three and two. That meets your bloody rule!”

His smile vanished and he held up a solitary finger. “One trip, not two.”

I stood, faced him and squared my shoulders. “So what is your due, then, eh?” I truly didn’t understand what the bloke wanted.

He glanced down at the dark waters and then back up at me.

“One of you must swim for it if you want to get to the other side. That’s me due. If you don’t want to swim for it, you can stay here, the lot of you. And you won’t be alive in a few slivers.” He looked over my shoulder as he said this. “They’re coming.”

“Who’s coming?” I asked sharply.

He lowered his gaze to me and his eyes were like fists of fiery blood. “Death,” he hissed. And that sound filled me with a dread that not even the shriek of a jabbit could inspire.

I looked down at the gently lapping waters and then across toward the river’s other side, which I still couldn’t see from here.

I turned back to Rubez. “Is there truly no other way?”

“Only one.”

“What?” I said eagerly.

“I can turn five into four. Then the remainders can ride in me boat!” he ended savagely and raised his oar threateningly. “Which one, eh? EH!”

I held up my hands and cried out, “No. I’ll swim for it.”

Delph rose on shaky legs. “Vega Jane, you’re not that good of a swimmer.”

Harry Two danced around my feet and moved his forelegs as if to show how powerful a swimmer he was.

“No,” I said. “I’ll go.”

“No,” snapped Delph. “You can’t always be the one to go it alone.”

Lackland said, “How ’bout the canine, eh?”

“Shut up, Lackland,” I barked.

Delph pulled me aside and whispered, “Let’s have a go at him and take his blasted boat.”

“You saw what he just did to you. And his oar apparently is more than a match for my wand.”