David Baldacci - The Keeper

With bloodcurdling screams, Bezil and the Soul Takers attacked.

I pointed my wand at one of the pair of gigantic stone columns that supported the ceiling. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Petra point hers at the other.

“ Severus. ”

“Severus, ” repeated Petra.

Enormous cracks ripped through the columns. They started to shake. And then they began to topple. We were already in the air by then. I turned and, like leaves strung out on a vine, we soared for the doorway while the temple began to fall around us. We barely cleared the doorway as the room’s ceiling fell in, crushing Bezil and his followers beneath the rubble of their foul temple. How fitting!

But I was terrified that the rest of the temple was going to cave in on us, permanently entombing us here too. We shot through the front doors as they toppled inward. Free of the crumbling temple, we soared up, up until I could maintain flight no longer. Then we fell fast and at a steep angle, slamming into the ground and tumbling painfully across a long swath of dirt until we came to rest in a heap.

As I looked up, I saw the entire temple crash inward on itself. Dust rose into the air and then it was quiet.

I looked over at Delph, who was struggling to his feet. He looked down at me.

“I thought we were goners,” he said.

“We almost were,” I said back.

I let Harry Two out of his harness and helped Petra to her feet while Delph pulled up Lackland. I glanced at the wand Petra still clutched in her hand.

“I’m sorry I took it from you,” I said so only she could hear.

She looked down at it. “I can understand why you did.”

“I couldn’t have done that alone in there,” I said. “I hope you know that.”

“Pet!” exclaimed Lackland. “Where in blazes did you get that thing?”

Petra looked at her wand, obviously unsure how to answer.

“I had a spare,” I said, drawing an incredulous look from Delph.

“Oh,” said Lackland. “Well, thank all that’s bleeding wonderful for spares , eh?”

I was startled to find that we were at the foot of the Blue Mountain. Once we cleared it, I reckoned the end of the Quag would be right on the other side.

“How did you find us?” asked Delph.

“I had help. From a friend.”

Lackland said, “Well, should we be on our way?”

I glanced up sharply at the mountain. What was left up there to try and stop us? I looked down at my wand. It seemed so tiny and insignificant, yet it had served me well all through the circles. I could only hope that it had enough magic left.

We covered five miles. All nearly vertical, until we were so weary we could no longer lift our arms and legs. We made camp on a small plateau that allowed a view across the Quag. Or it should have.

I turned to see where we had come from. I had never really looked behind me while here. I had always been concerned about what was ahead of us.

But nothing was back there except darkness, even though it was still light. It was like staring into the heavens on a starless night. There was just nothing. I shivered involuntarily.

I looked over at Delph, who was helping Petra make the meal. They were both scarred from their time here, Delph with his arm and Petra, her hand. No doubt their minds were scarred too, as was mine. I observed with a pang of jealousy that they worked well together, seeming to read the other’s mind.

We ate our meal and drank our water. None of us spoke. It was as though the battle with the Soul Takers had robbed us of something important and we were all trying to figure out what.

Lackland carelessly rubbed his injured face. Delph rolled up his sleeve to examine his burned arm. But when I looked over at Petra, she was simply looking at her wand as though she had never seen it before. I knew how she felt. The weight of a wand in one’s hand carried with it expectations and a certain responsibility equal perhaps to the tonnage of the mountain we were on.

Petra took the first watch, and Delph and Lackland lay down on their beds. I followed Petra to the perimeter where she would take up her post.

I glanced at her wand and decided to come to the point. I was, above all, a practical Wug. “How many spells do you know?” I asked bluntly.

She seemed taken aback by this but I plunged on. We didn’t have time for niceties. “The Rigamorte spell is not something you do your first time,” I said. “And the other spells you used, though I said the incantation first, your wand movements were spot-on. So how many spells do you know? It’s important.”

It was like I was trying to determine how many morta rounds we collectively had left to fire at our enemies. I was under no delusion that the Fifth Circle was finished with us. I had relied on Petra’s magical ability to escape the Soul Takers. I knew I would need it and her again.

She said sharply, “What does it matter? I couldn’t save my family from the lycans, could I?”

I pointed at the bit of fingernail housed in the bottom of her wand. “That was part of your uncle, wasn’t it? It’s not his wand. He made this wand and gave it to you, didn’t he? It’s your wand.” She had used my wand to kill, but it had damaged her. She wielded her own wand with ease and skill, which told me plainly she had used it before.

She looked down at the wand and gripped it more tightly. “So what if he did?”

“So how many spells?”

“A few. A few more than the ones we already used. He wanted to teach me more, but the night the lycans came, we were off getting water. A garm attacked us. And killed him.” She looked at me fiercely. “And I killed it. That was the first time I used the death spell. My uncle told me I had to feel—”

“Something more than hatred or loathing? And you had to feel it with every bit of your mind, body and spirit?”

She nodded dumbly.

I thought it interesting that we both had lost loved ones to a garm, she her uncle and me my first canine. And that we had both used our first death spell on a garm.

She looked at my wand. “You can do loads more than I can.”

“Well, I was properly trained up,” I said, watching her closely.

“Can you properly train me?” she said eagerly.

I had been expecting this request, but I still wasn’t sure how to answer it.

I looked over at a distant spot. “Point your wand that way. The incantation is one you’ve heard me use before. Crystilado magnifica .” I showed her the proper wand motion.

She readied her wand.

“Focus your mind, body and spirit,” I said. “And let that combined energy flow through your wand.” Blimey! All of a sudden, I felt like Astrea Prine!

Petra did as I instructed but failed the first three times. She did not grow frustrated, however, as I had when attempting this. She asked more questions and I gave more answers and on her sixth try, the landscape that was miles from us was now mere inches from our faces.

She looked over at me and beamed in triumph. I returned the smile, though not quite as enthusiastically. Then we both gazed at what we would be facing the next light.

“Is that smoke curling up?” she said.

I squinted to see better, though I shouldn’t have had to. The image was right in front of me. Still, there was something distorted in the picture that made it difficult to clearly make out the details. Perhaps Petra had not performed the spell exactly right.

“It looks to be.” I pointed to a spot. “And that might be a little shack where the smoke is coming from.”

“So someone lives there?” she said, sounding puzzled and anxious.

I could well understand that, for who would want to live in the Fifth Circle? “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” I had an idea and said, “Maybe we can avoid climbing this mountain. Maybe we can fly to the top.”