The Keeper

Triginta quattuor: A Pact

We followed them back to their camp, which was about a mile away. We had to wend our way through a forest that became so dense that we could barely squeeze between the trees. At least, I thought, there was no way a colossal could attack us in here. They were simply too big!

Unlike the woods around Wormwood, these trees were not all tall and straight. Many of them were twisted and warped and shrouded in dreary colors. There was not a bright green leaf to be seen on any of them. And their bark reeked of smells that were not fresh or sweet. Indeed, I could detect only fear and death in the air somehow. Every sound made could be predators coming. Every step we took might be our last. The end of our lives seemed to lurk beyond every shadow of every grotesque tree. Every branch seemed to bend toward us, wanting to strike.

I would have liked to close my eyes or look away, but I knew I couldn’t. I had to remain vigilant. As I looked at my companions, I could see they were doing the exact same thing. Petra and Lackland looked especially subdued and nervous. Well, I would be too if my entire village had been wiped out.

Their camp was nothing much. There was a strip of tattered oilcloth stretched over some low tree branches, and beds made largely from leaves inside a little wooden lean-to. It made Loons back in Wormwood seem positively luxurious.

Their food and other important possessions Petra had pointed out were kept in a burlap bag tied to a tree branch. I doubted they were safe up there, but then again, where was safe in this place?

We sat around a small fire that Lackland built and warmed our bones from the chilly air. When I saw how little they had, I opened my tuck and shared some of our food and water. After we had been fed so well at Astrea’s, it pained me to see how they gobbled the few morsels I offered. Not that long ago, I knew I would have done the very same thing.

Lackland finished the pieces of bread and hard cheese I had given him and drew closer. “Blimey, how did you do all that... stuff back there?”

I took my wand out of my pocket. “Sorcery. Magic. I was taught it.”

I glanced over at Petra. From the corner of my eyes, I had seen her flinch when I drew out my wand. Now she was staring at it, her eyes widened, I think, in fear.

“Don’t worry, I won’t use it on you, Petra,” I said disarmingly. I tacked a smile on to this to show I was joking. Mostly.

I had imagined she would look frightened, but she didn’t. She just stared back at me for a sliver with contempt.

I could feel my temper starting to get the best of me.

Perhaps sensing this on my features, Delph said quickly, “But Vega Jane was magical to begin with. It’s not like you can just wave a stick around and fight huge blokes like them back there.”

“Are you magical, Delph?” asked Petra, taking a moment to smooth out her hair and rub a spot of dirt off her arm. She touched his shoulder with her hand and let it stay there for a wee bit too long, at least in my mind. I felt my hand curl to a fist. It was a struggle not to take a swing at her.

“Not a drop of magic in me,” said Delph with a crooked grin. “I’m just big.”

“And smart,” I added quickly, because I saw that Petra was about to say something simpering to him, I was sure. “It was Delph that got us out of the maze. He remembered it all when the wendigo was chasing us. And he was the one who distracted the colossals so I could finish them off.”

Petra looked at Delph with admiration. “That’s right bonny of you, Delph. Big, and smart too. And not half-bad-lookin’ neither.” She again touched him on the arm. When she noted the blackened skin near his wrist, she exclaimed, “What happened to you?”

He shrugged and said, “Manticore got me. Vega Jane got ridda the pain, but me arm’s a bit the worse for it.”

“You beat a manticore too?” Petra said, her look full of awe.

Lackland let out a loud burp and said, “Well, all’s we got is a sword and a bow. Right easier to beat beasts with that stick thing.”

I was staring at Delph, who was blushing as Petra rubbed his arm. I quickly rose and threw another stick on the fire. When I sat back down, I somehow ended up between Delph and Petra. She had to quickly move her hand out of the way.

“So who do you nick stuff from?” I asked. “Blokes like you?”

“Like we said, ain’t no blokes like us left,” replied Lackland. “Leastways not that I know of.”

“So who, then? Not the beasts in here surely?”

“No, not the beasts.”

“Well, if it’s not blokes or beasts, what’s left?” asked Delph.

“Hyperbores mostly,” said Petra, with another glance at my wand. I finally put it away. “I guess one could call them beasts, but they’re closer to us than the other ruddy things in here.”

I nodded thoughtfully. Hyperbores. Astrea had told us about them. Blue-skinned and they could fly. And that they could be an enemy or an ally.

“What are they like?” I asked. “Do they try and attack you when you nick from them?”

“No,” said Petra. “I think they let us steal from them because they know we have nothing.”

Lackland scowled at her. “As if anything in this place would ‘let’ someone steal from ’em. We stole it fair and square.”

I didn’t think anyone could steal something “fair and square.” But I didn’t say this.

“Well, we’ve never been caught or hurt doing it,” pointed out Petra.

“ ’Cause we’re good, ain’t we?” said Lackland with a satisfied look.

“Where do the hyperbores live?” I asked.

“Oh, they have nests here and there,” said Lackland.

“Nests?” Delph exclaimed. “What, like birds?”

“Yep, way up in the trees. Pretty big nests too. Lots of ’em live together. Safer that way, I ’spect.”

I said, “How do you nick from them, then, if they’re way up there?”

“Petra can climb something fierce,” said Lackland proudly. “And she drops the things toward the ground, where I catch ’em.”

“What sorts of things?”

“Vegetables, meats, spare cloth we make into proper trousers and shirts. And water. They keep it in jugs made from tree bark. Catching them can be a bit difficult. Broke my nose and two fingers so far.”

“Not a bad price to pay to keep from starving,” pointed out Petra.

Lackland turned to me. “You can get us out of here, you said?”

“I didn’t say that,” I shot back. “I said Delph, Harry Two and me are getting out of here.”

“But what’s beyond here?” asked Lackland.

“I don’t know,” I said truthfully.

“Then why do you want to go there?” Petra said.

“ ’Cause it’s no doubt better than this place,” replied Lackland, the scowl returning to his features. “I mean, what place could be worse than here, eh?”

I said under my breath, “Well, we’ll find out.” In a louder voice I said, “What do you know of where you came from? We’re called Wugs, or Wugmorts. You look just like us. I wonder if you could have been from Wormwood too at some point.”

Delph looked at me questioningly. I shrugged. I had just thought of this. I didn’t see how Wugs from Wormwood could have ended up this far in the Quag and started another settlement of sorts. But I didn’t know it wasn’t possible either.

Lackland looked unsure. “I mean we’re just here. Always just been here. Always been Furinas. Least it’s all we’ve known.”

Petra added spitefully, “Never enough to eat. And always something ready to kill you!”

Lackland agreed. “Aye, me dad told me all the remaining Furinas finally banded together for safety. Our last settlement was over to the west. About five miles from here. There were only about twenty-odd of us left, when the bloody beasts came that night.” He looked down and threw a twig on the fire. “Blasted things.”

“And your parents never told you anything about where you came from?” I asked.

“Well, there’s the parchment, o’course,” said Lackland.

I said quickly, “What parchment?”

Petra said sternly, “Now who’s telling stuff?!”

Lackland said, “Eh, you’re the one said they looked like us. And they saved our skins. So show ’em the parchment. It’s in the bag hanging on that there tree,” he added, pointing.

“I know where it is, Lack!” Petra rose and scampered up the tree with impressive nimbleness. I snatched a glance at Delph and saw him watching her with similar admiration. And maybe a wee bit more than that. I felt a scowl creep to my mouth. At that instant, Delph glanced over at me, saw my expression and dropped his gaze to the dirt.

Petra brought the bag back down and carried it over to us. She sat cross-legged next to Delph — of course — and opened it. She drew out a bunch of withered pages of bound parchment and passed them across to me.

I looked through them. The writing was beautiful, but the language was not something I had ever seen.

“What does it say?” I asked.

Both Lackland and Petra shook their heads. “We’ve never known,” she said. “Nor did our parents.”

“So why carry it around?” asked Delph.

Grinning sheepishly, Lackland said, “When you ain’t got much, hard to part with anything.” He paused, then added, looking at me, “Now, we know things that can help you. And we’ll pull our weight. Tough as anything we both are. You won’t regret this, never one bit.” He looked pleadingly at me.

Delph glanced at me. I nodded. He turned back to Lackland and Petra and said, “ ’Tis done, then.” He held out his hand and we shook all around.

I said, “You have to understand that it will be dangerous.”

“Well,” said Lackland. “What a change that’ll be, eh?”

We all laughed.

And it felt good.

Until I realized that we might well never laugh again.