The Keeper (17 page)

I turned back around. And the most astonishing thing happened. The monster that had killed the poor deer had become … the deer, albeit a ghostly, filmy white version of it.

Astrea waved her wand, said, “
Finit
,” and the entire image disappeared. She turned to me and said, “That was a wendigo. A malevolent spirit that can possess whatever it devours. Creatures such as this lie between you and your destination at the end of the Quag.”

My voice shaky, I said, “And you helped create all these horrible things.”

She looked taken aback by my comment, which, I had to admit, had been somewhat accusatory. “Not all of them, no. But by conjuring what we did, we laid the foundation for these creatures to spawn even greater horrors than the originals. The effects of magic can often be unpredictable, Vega. You must come to understand that.”

“And do you think it was all worth it?” I asked in a firmer voice.

“The answer to that is still to be written,” she replied just as firmly.

T
HE TIME RACED
by as my education continued. My
true
education.

By saying the phrase “
Pass-pusay
” and tapping my wand against my right leg, I had disappeared from the room we were in and transported myself to the hallway outside. I don’t know how I did it or why I had traveled to that particular spot, but Astrea was very encouraged that I had accomplished this on only my fourth attempt. I had even worked out some reverse curses with a degree of success. But I had also very nearly drowned poor Delph by miscasting the confounded spell
Engulfiado.

I now lay exhausted on my bed. It didn’t seem that saying words and waving a little stick around could be tiring, but it actually involved far more than that. This mind, body and spirit requirement was much harder than laboring at Stacks.

Someone knocked on my door and I wearily raised my head. “Yes?”

“It’s Delph, Vega Jane. Can I come in?”

“Give me a mo’. I’m not decent.” I jumped up, threw on my cloak and then opened the door.

“You look … very, um,
decent
,” he said shyly.

“Thanks, Delph. But how can you tell? Your eyes are closed.”

He opened them just a bit as though to test whether I was truly decent. Then he opened them fully.

“Now, what was it you wanted?”

He took the chair next to my bed while I perched on the corner of the mattress. He was curling and uncurling his large hands, something I knew he did when he was both nervous and upset.

“Just say it, Delph.”

He nodded. “The thing is, Vega Jane, the thing is …” He stopped, stood and started to pace. Harry Two and I swiveled our heads back and forth as he did so, following his long gait as he crisscrossed the room. He whirled around, looked at me and said, “I … can’t … do … this magic. So what bloody good am I to you?”

“What good are you to me? You’re joking, right?”

He made a huge muscle with his arm, but it wasn’t intended as a show of strength, a fact made clear by his next words. Pointing at it, he said, “This is all I have. I’m strong in Wormwood, pretty much none stronger. But here I’m a bloody weakling, Vega Jane. I can’t help you. And if I can’t help you, I’ll end up hurting you.”

He suddenly slumped to the floor and just sat there looking spent.

As though he could sense Delph’s pain and anxiety, Harry Two used his snout to lift Delph’s hand and perhaps his spirits. As Delph stroked Harry Two, I said, “Okay, Delph, let’s say you can’t do magic and I can.”

“ ’Cause it’s the truth!” he said fiercely.

“But I’m just learning how to do this. You saw that.”

“What I saw, Vega Jane, was a sorceress or whatever you want to call yourself, getting better and better. You’ll soon have the stroke of this magic stuff.”

“And do you really think all you have to offer are muscles?”

He looked surprised by this comment. “Eh? What else, then? All I got.”

“So it wasn’t you who came up with the strategy for me to win the Duelum?”

“Who cares about the damn Duelum? Ain’t you been listening? I
can’t
do magic.”

I rushed over and seized his shoulder. “Neither one of us came into the Quag thinking we could do magic. But we still came here. And you know why we did.”

I grew silent because I wanted to hear him say it. I wanted to know, for certain, that he wanted it as much as I did.

He said, “To find the truth.”

I nodded and let go of him. “That’s right. Maybe I’ll be a good sorceress and maybe I won’t. Maybe you’ll never be able to do magic, I don’t know. I don’t know much about anything in this place because it’s so
unknowable
! But that won’t stop
us
from finding answers, Delph. And if
we
die trying, well, I’d rather that than live a life that’s not even my own.”

Delph slowly nodded and said, “Okay, Vega Jane. Okay.”

“So are we good?” I asked, peering at him closely.

“We’re good,” he said with a smile.

M
ORE TIME PASSED
and my lessons continued unabated. I muttered so many incantations that it seemed I could recall none. I made intricate moves with my wand. I employed my mind, body and spirit together in ways I couldn’t have even fathomed before. And it was all done under the strict tutelage of Astrea Prine. She seemed to enjoy the role of teacher far more than jailer.

I had my share of victories and a nearly equal number of total disasters.

One terrifying moment had come when I directed a curse at the clay male.

“
Jagada
,” I called out, whipping my wand at the target, but my enthusiasm had led to a momentum in my arm that badly threw off my aim. My curse hit poor Archie and he started to bleed from gashes all up and down his legs.

I screamed, Harry Two yipped and Delph raced over to him to help.

But Astrea calmly said, “
Eraisio
,” and waved her wand at Archie. The slashes immediately healed, though his trousers were still ripped.

I apologized profusely, but Archie took it in stride.

“There’s not been any of us that hasn’t made mistakes, Vega,” he said encouragingly. “And you’re doing just fine.”

However, I was so shaken that I could do no more that light. Later, I cried myself to sleep, the image of bloody Archie refusing to leave my thoughts.

The next light, I crushed the clay man by invoking the spell
Impacto
. I very warily performed the
Impairio
curse on Archie and struck him blind, but the reverse curse worked just fine too, restoring his sight instantly.

“Mind, body and spirit,” Astrea kept stressing to me.

“I’m getting the hang of it,” I said confidently.

“The basics at least.”

I looked at her, knowing that something else was dwelling on the tip of her tongue. “But?” I said.

“But you’ve had to do none of this while an opponent is casting spells back at you, trying to hurt or even kill you. That changes everything, Vega.”

“But how can I practice that?”

“You will practice that, when you are ready.”

“You mean truly fighting?”

“Yes! You will have to do so to get through the Quag.”

That night I lingered in front of the fire with Astrea and Harry Two while Delph and Archie went off to bed.

“The first night I was here I saw the room covered in dust and cobwebs. It was set up like a nursery.”

She slowly nodded. “It
was
a nursery, Vega. For my children.”

“It … it must have been difficult for them,” I began.

She gave a hollow laugh. “As you so astutely pointed out, I took their lives from them.”

I remained silent. I shouldn’t have said that to her. I’m sure she had meant the best. But sometimes decisions come at a great cost. For others.

“They never had the chance to meet anyone. Never had the chance to fall in love, marry and have a family. See their children grow up and have their own children.” She let out a long breath that I could sense was chock-f of remorse. She glanced at me before looking away. “My youngest, Ariana, was the first to die. She was so full of life when she was a child. Then she grew into a bitter old biddy, and who could blame her? This cottage, her brothers and sisters. And me. That was all she had. Then one by one, the others went. Tired of not living. A decision I had made for them.”

She lapsed into silence, a quiet I was hesitant to break. But the fact was I had another question to ask her, and it would have a great impact on me personally.

“You said you had killed?” I began.

She was staring into the depths of the fire. She looked so young that it was difficult for me to accept that she was over eight centuries old.

“To defend myself. I was quite good at it. As you will have to be.”

I drew closer. “When I threw the Elemental at the males attacking me on that battlefield, I didn’t know it was going to
kill
them.”

“And you wonder if you have it in you to consciously do so?”

“I cried when I hurt poor Archie.”

“It is not a natural thing to kill another. At least it is not for us.”

“Do you think that’s why, well, why they beat you? The Maladons?”

“Do you know how they came by their name? Did Archie tell you that?”

“No.”

“In our ancient language it means ‘terrible death,’ Vega.”

“Terrible death. So you named them that? Because of what they did to you?”

She shook her head. “No. They named themselves. To inflict terrible death on others is the highest calling they have.”

“That’s … awful,” I said, nearly unable to process how anyone could be that evil.

“The Maladons have always been remarkably good at killing. Although toward the end, many on our side became quite adept at it as well. Alice Adronis killed scores of them and seemed to care not a jot.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

She turned to face me. “And how could you possibly know that?”

“I saw her on that battlefield. She was honorable. Noble. I’m sure the killing
did
bother her. As it would me.”

“And your point?” asked Astrea curiously.

“Well, if we didn’t care, we would be no better than the Maladons. And then what would be the point of defeating them?”

This comment seemed to surprise her. “You figured that out without any help whatsoever from me.”

“I’ve had to figure out a great many things on my own,” I said quite seriously. “But that still doesn’t answer the question of whether I can kill if I need to. I don’t even know what the spell is to do it. Is there a particular one?”

“
Rigamorte
,” she said immediately, her features deadly serious. “It is the most powerful of all curses. While we have other spells that can eventually lead to death, that is the one guaranteed to produce it.”

“It even
sounds
hurtful.”

“Point your wand at me and say it.”

“What?” I exclaimed in astonishment.

“Point your wand at me and say the incantation.”

“But I can’t do —”

“Now,” she screamed, “or I will do it to
you
. Now, Vega!”

Terrified, I raised my wand and cried out, “
Rigamorte!
”

My wand gave what amounted to a little sneeze and that was all.

“I guess I need work,” I said lamely. “But you would have blocked it or countered it if —”

“There is no shield. Only inevitable death.”

I was horrified. “Then if it had worked?”

“It could not possibly have worked, Vega. You were scared. It was why I screamed at you. One cannot perform the curse while scared. It is not the emotion required.”

“What is, then?”

“Something more than loathing. Or even hatred. An emotion so strong that it blocks out every other feeling you have. It must be like molten lava in your blood vessels. You must
want
to kill above all other things. To end the life of another living thing, Vega. Otherwise, you’re simply wasting your breath. It is horrible to kill someone. So to take the life of another, you
must
become horrible.”

I cleared my throat and said slowly, “I don’t know if I could ever feel that way about anyone. I mean there were blokes in Wormwood that I didn’t much care for. But I couldn’t kill them. I mean I just wouldn’t
.
”

“Would you rather it be you dead, or your enemy?” she retorted. “For I can tell you quite plainly that a Maladon confronting you will not hesitate to kill.”

I sat back and thought this through. To get through the Quag and do what I needed to do, would I have to become a killer?

It seemed that I would.