The Keeper

Triginta novem: An Unexpected Visitor

We walked along meandering forest paths for three full lights and nights without encountering a single threat. This should have made me feel better. But it didn’t. In fact, I was feeling more and more depressed because I was certain that around the next bend, we would be attacked by something we could not defeat.

Each time we stopped to eat, to rest or for water, I could tell the others were thinking the very same thing. After nearly dying at the hands of the dreadful alectos, it was no surprise that we were all on edge.

Another two lights and nights passed and we saw not a single living creature, either friend or foe. I would have taken a right good fight over the sea of endless trees, placing one foot in front of the other and feeling my spirits continue to ebb away. The forest here was so dense that all we saw were twisted trunks and tangles of branches and dark leaves with not one bird on them. They wedged in on us the farther along we went, to where I had to use the Illumina spell as soon as we set off. There was something very disconcerting about being in darkness all the time. And combined with how tense we were already, the effect was one of suffocating melancholy.

It got to the point where we dragged ourselves up at first light, ate a bit of food, packed up and set off without a word to one another. As we trudged along, glances were sullen and the few remarks were short and abrasive. Our body language was that of defeat.

Lackland almost never talked; he just glared at everyone.

Petra didn’t glare, but I could tell she was not happy.

Even Delph was not himself. He once snapped at Harry Two just because my canine accidentally bumped into him and caused him to spill a bit of water. Only my canine seemed to be able to rise to the occasion. He trotted along, his smile wide but his senses, I knew, on high alert. He was the only thing during that time that could lift my spirits. But still, it wasn’t enough.

We had stopped for our night meal and were clustered around the campfire, when Lackland finally erupted. “This is bloody stupid, this is,” he snapped.

“What is?” I demanded hotly.

“We have no idea where the Hel we’re going. We could be going in circles, for all you know. Or can you tell one ruddy tree from another?”

“Well, I don’t see you jumping up to lead us,” snapped Delph.

Petra barked, “He’s just saying what we’re all thinking.” She pointed a finger at me and added, “Do you know where we’re going? Really?”

I eyed her and when I did, I felt a degree of malice rise to my chest that almost made my skin burn. I stood and held out my wand. “This makes me the leader,” I said. “If you want to strike out on your own, then go ahead. You’ll last a sliver, if that.”

Lackland jumped up. “We can’t do that. You took us from what we knew.”

Now Delph leapt up and together we faced off against Lackland and Petra.

Delph shouted, “You begged to come with us.”

“ ’Cause I thought you knew what you were doing,” roared Lackland.

He held up his sword.

Delph hefted his ax.

Petra pointed her crossbow.

I raised my wand. But then something popped up in my head. Something that Astrea had said, that I had not really focused on. But now I did. Because now I understood what she meant.

The Second Circle is full of depression, and if we allow it, those feelings will come to dominate.

I looked at Delph. “It’s the depression of the Second Circle that Astrea told us about. It’s in the air. It’s everywhere. It’s driving us mad!”

Delph half lowered his ax. “Blimey.”

At that moment, his senses evidently stricken clean from him, Lackland suddenly shouted, “Pet, shoot the canine. I’ll take care-a them two.”

I raised my wand and shouted, “Embattlemento.”

His sword and her arrow hit my shield spell with such force that the reverse concussive blow knocked Lackland and Petra off their feet.

I next said, “Ensnario.”

Thin ropes of light shot out of my wand, enveloping them both, and with a cast like that of a fishing pole, I flicked my wand to snatch them up and deposit them by the clump of trees. I cried out, “Impacto.” One end of the rope drove itself deeply into the ground.

“Vega Jane,” shouted Delph. “If it’s in the air, you can use the—”

“I know, Delph, I know what I have to do.” I grabbed his arm. “Hold on to me. Come, Harry Two!” I patted my harness.

My canine jumped up and I buckled him in. I pointed my wand at the ground and said, “Ensnario.”

Thick roots emerged from the ground and wrapped themselves around our legs.

I pulled the Finn from my pocket and looked at Delph. “Silenus said this would be far worse than what we experienced in that cave.”

Delph swallowed a lump in his throat and then put one huge hand on me and one on Harry Two.

“Ready?” I said.

He nodded. “Ready.”

I said a silent prayer and untied the second knot.

It was akin to a mighty, raging river that had been turned into air. Pretty much every tree in the forest was pushed nearly sideways by the force. I had to close my eyes and then cover my mouth and nose because the wind was so strong I could barely breathe.

I had never felt such force as this. Even with the bindings around our legs, I felt myself lifting off the dirt. My fingers were being pulled off my wand. And if I lost that in this gale, we were done for. In unleashing the second knot of the Finn had I ruined any chance we might have to survive? Delph screamed as he started to lose his grip on me and Harry Two. My canine was being pulled away from me. I could hear my magical snares tearing one by one.

I glanced over at Petra and Lackland. They were completely off the ground with only one magical tether holding them from oblivion, for anything that was swept loose in this maelstrom would be smashed against the trees.

I had just killed us all.

I watched as the last strand of magical rope broke. I couldn’t say another spell because the force of the wind prevented me from even moving my mouth. We were done for. The three of us shot up into the air. I looked to my left and saw Petra and Lackland propelled upward like they’d been shot from a morta.

And then the wind stopped, and we plummeted back down, landing hard on the dirt, but otherwise alive.

I cautiously rose and peered around. Petra and Lackland were slowly rising. Some trees had been uprooted and lay toppled in the dirt. Others were still bent over, perhaps permanently so. Most, though, had returned to their original positions, which was a testament to their strength.

I touched my head and, despite my aches and pains from the long fall to the dirt, I broke into a smile. The terrible depression that had engulfed me was gone. It was like a—

“Like a refreshing wind drove it all away?”

I spun around to see who had spoken.

It was Seamus. He was perched on a fallen tree. He was no longer dressed shabbily. He wore black trousers, a white shirt, a vest laced with golden threads, shiny shoes and a well-brushed top hat.

“Who the Hel is that?” Lackland and Petra exclaimed together.

“Seamus the hob,” Delph answered. “We know the bloke.”

The truth struck me. I said, “Astrea’s been following us in the Seer-See, hasn’t she?”

“Well, of course she has,” said Seamus, as though that was the most obvious fact ever uttered. He hopped off the fallen tree and walked toward us.

“You made good use of the Finn.” Seamus scratched Harry Two behind the ears. “Canines are immune to the depression, you know.”

“Astrea sent you here?”

“Yes, but not to interfere. If you perished, I was instructed to give you proper burials in the Wolvercote Cemetery.”

“Well, that was ruddy nice of her,” I said sarcastically. I drew a deep breath. “How is Archie?”

“He no longer remembers anything about you.”

I looked at him curiously, taking in the new clothes. “You seem different.”

His eyes twinkled. “Hobs are actually quite a formal lot. But we are also quite good at playing other roles when circumstances require it.” He bent over and added in a croaky voice, “Seamus is a good hob he is, dearie, dearie.” This made me smile in spite of myself.

“Does this mean we’re at the end of the Second Circle?” asked Delph anxiously.

“I think you can presume that, yes,” said Seamus, eyeing Lackland curiously. “The Third Circle commences just beyond that rise in the dirt.” He added in an admonitory tone, “But the Third Circle, as you well know, has its own unique challenges.” He smoothed down his clothes and tipped his top hat. “And now it is time for me to depart. I doubt you will see me again. I wish you luck.”

“Wait, I have more questions,” I began.

But right before our eyes, Seamus vanished.