David Baldacci - The Keeper

“We done good, eh?” he managed to mumble.

My hands fished through my pockets for the Adder Stone.

“Just hang on, Lack.”

“Done good, eh,” he said again, more weakly.

“Just hang on.”

“Done good,” he whispered.

I found the Stone and held it over him. “It’ll be okay.”

“Done... eh?” He closed his eyes.

I wished good thoughts, the best I ever had. I waved the Stone over and over his broken body. I kept doing it even as Delph and Petra ran up and knelt down next to us.

“Lack!” said a stunned Petra.

“It’ll be okay,” I snapped. “I’ve got the Stone.”

Delph looked down at Lackland and then gripped my shoulder. “Vega Jane.”

“It’ll be okay,” I said, tears starting to fall down my face.

“Vega Jane,” he said softly.

“It’ll... it’ll... the Stone.”

Good thoughts, Vega. Lack, you’ll be okay. Almost there.

I didn’t see Petra reach down and use her hand to close Lackland’s eyes.

I didn’t see Delph take the Stone from my hand.

I didn’t see Harry Two lie down next to Lackland and nudge his hand with his snout. I didn’t see any of this because I had closed my eyes. I had closed my eyes because I knew if I kept them open a second longer, I would never move from this spot ever again. That I would just die right here.

Right next to Lackland. Who had just died.

The Stone could not bring back the dead. I knew that. I had always known that.

I felt Delph gently help me to my feet and turn me away from the body.

“We’ll take care-a it, Vega Jane. It’ll be okay.”

I went and sat on the ground, my back to them, as they dug the hole and laid Lackland Cyphers into it. Harry Two sat next to me. His snout nudged my hand, but for the first time ever, I did not pet him when he did so.

The sacrifice that everyone had warned me about had just come in the form of a mortal blow to one of us. Death was all around here. But we had always managed to just skirt it. I had known the odds of all of us getting through the Quag were abysmally small. Astrea had told me that. But she needn’t have.

I had not known Lackland long. But I had known him long enough.

And his loss ate at me in the way that such a loss always does. In a way that such a loss always should.

When the last bit of dirt had covered his remains, Delph and Petra rejoined me. “ ’Tis done,” said Delph quietly. “ ’Tis done.”

I opened my eyes at last and looked up at him. Tears stained his face. I looked at Petra and saw the same there.

I looked back at the mound of dirt. I rose and walked over to it and looked down. I pointed my wand, and a chunk of charred wood flew forward and planted itself at the head of the mound. Using my wand as an ink stick, I wrote the words on the wood.

Here lies Lackland Cyphers, a good friend to the end.

Then I placed a shield spell over the mound to keep his final resting place safe.

I turned and looked ahead. With a mountain no longer in the way, our path was quite straightforward now. Though nothing was quite as straightforward as it appeared, was it? Certainly not in this place.

I grabbed my tuck from where it had fallen to the ground, and hoisted it.

I passed by Delph, Petra and Harry Two.

I was changed now. I was different. I could feel it in every crevice of my being. I had been the leader. Yet a reluctant, hesitant, unsure one. Then I had grown more confident, piling victory on top of victory. Thorne and the circles. Now something else had happened. Something catastrophic.

One of the ones I had led, who had trusted me to get him through this safely, now lay dead. Yes, I was changed, completely. And forever.

With my wand in hand, I led the way once more.

To the end.

To the bloody, bloody end.

I sensed that i could now take to the air if I wanted to without the threat of a storm rising to stop me. But even with that, I decided that we would walk through the last bit of the Quag. For some reason, it just seemed like the right thing to do.

So on we marched.

Delph and Petra had not attempted to talk to me after burying Lackland. I appreciated this, because had I been faster, there would be five of us nearing the end of this journey, not four. It was my fault and mine alone that he was dead. Just like Duf Delphia’s legs. I had failed.

I glanced down at my hand when it started to burn.

I stood there paralyzed when I saw it.

On the back of my right hand something was materializing.

My hand started to shake so badly that I dropped my wand. I had to hold my burning hand with the other one. Then the pain shot straight up my arm and I dropped to the ground, screaming. I rolled and thrashed. When I felt something grab me, I kicked and punched to make it let go.

I opened my eyes and saw that Delph and Petra had taken hold of me, trying to calm me, trying to see what was wrong. And then, just like that, the pain was gone. My hand and arm felt normal.

Delph cried out, “Bloody Hel, Vega Jane, what is it? What’s wrong?”

I slowly sat up and looked down at my hand where a moment before it had felt like a garm had bitten down on it.

“Holy Steeples,” cried out Delph when he saw it.

“What is that thing?” exclaimed Petra.

On the back of my hand were the three hooks. The symbol of Peace. Hope. Freedom.

It was on my grandfather’s hand. Now it was on mine.

And this was not ink that could be easily erased. I knew it was burned into me, probably from the inside out. I knew somehow that I would have this mark until my life was over.

I rose on shaky legs and retrieved my wand where it had fallen.

“It’s just a mark,” I said calmly, though I felt anything but.

“But, Vega Jane—” began Delph.

“I’m fine!” I barked, and then said in a normal tone, “I’m fine. Did you expect that I would escape this place without some sort of scar? Both of you have yours. And Harry Two.” I tried to say this in a joking way, but I knew my tone rang hollow. This was not a normal scar or wound. This was something more. Far more.

I felt like I had just been branded. And I’d had no say in the matter at all. I hated this place. I truly hated every square inch of it.

“Let’s get on,” I said. “Let’s just finish this.”

For three lights we walked across a vast plain. It was inconceivable to me that a majestic mountain had rested here for over eight centuries until it was toppled by a peg of unknotted rope, leaving only flatness in its wake.

On the fourth light, I slowed when I saw it just up ahead.

A shimmering glare, as though light was being reflected off something.

As we drew closer, our pace slowed even more. After all we had endured, I did not want to rush headlong into something that would leave us paces short of our goal.

“What do you reckon that is?” asked Delph, at last breaking the silence that hung over us like a funeral pall.

I gazed at the shimmer but could not answer him. As darkness started to fall, the shimmer did not diminish. The light hitting it thus was not coming from the sky.

As we grew closer the answer struck me.

The light was coming from the other side.

Which meant, I realized with a thrill, that we had, at last, reached the end of the Quag.

I glanced at Petra and then looked at her wand. She nodded and gripped it tightly.

“Loosely,” I murmured. “ ’Tis a part of you now, Petra.”

I saw her fingers loosen around the wand’s base.

She stole a glance at me and in that look I realized she had something on her mind. I moved over to her and looked at her expectantly.