The Keeper Ch. 38-41

He did his best to quell the fear and shifted his attention to Anna and Niamh's conversation as he pulled his truck onto the road that led up to Cayden MacLeish's rustic cabin.

"I wonder what there is about the Keeper's house that drives the Druid," Niamh mused.

"I wonder as well," Anna said. "The house has become the symbol of the Keeper. It's long been a mystery to the covens. I'd bet it was the House who chose you, Lachlan as much as it was the old man."

"Mr. MacLeish told me the house was built by old Finn's great grandfather one hundred and fifty years ago, but there had been dwellings of one sort or another on the site since the melting of the Puget Sound Ice Sheet. Its foundation is laid half in and half out of Opari, it's a tardis--larger inside than outside. There are rooms I never explored and I lived there a long time."

Quinn stopped his lecture when they came around the corner and spotted the old cabin. Black with age, it was built in the old way with the hands of a Master Crafter from precisely cut and squared cedar logs. The morticed joints were still as tight as the day they were chopped out. The cabin faced south over a meadow of wildflowers. The Opari wilderness looked behind it.

He quickly spotted the Druid sitting on the top step of the big wrap-around porch, gazing out over the meadow. Katrinka sat in front of him, one step down between his knees. Spellbound, she sat perfectly still, staring straight ahead. The Druid's left hand held a black blade to her throat, the other held a wooden wand dark with age. Quinn's runes throbbed as they picked up on the power that swirled around it.

The Hag stood behind him. Rocking side-to-side, crooning, and muttering to herself.

Sweet mother, she is far gone.

The door to the cabin was wide open. He'd had time to go through the place to find whatever he was looking for.

Quinn turned to the two women. "Let me get out first and talk to him. When you get a chance get out and circle behind him.. Let's see if we can generate an opportunity to snatch Katrinka and get her away from him."

Quinn got out of the truck and approached the house.

The man known as the Druid was small and slight with a shock of coarse black hair and brown eyes almost black. He smiled and watched as Quinn walked up.

Quinn searched his face for a sign of weakness and found none.

"I assume you are the one the Leprechaun called the Druid," Quinn said mildly "Why are you on my property?"

"I've been looking for a particular item for over five hundred years, boy. It's a book or more accurately a bundle of scrolls written on lambskin. The author was a defrocked priest who spent his life studying and writing about the Druids. Most of the Druidic Spellcraft was never written down, but somehow this man managed to uncover a good deal of it."

The Druid smiled down at the little girl and gently stroked her hair.

She sat staring straight ahead her eyes blank.

"My bargain for you Lachlan Quinn is this. Find it for me and I will only kill you. These others may go free. This girl has served her purpose and gained me entry, but unfortunately, the house still hides its treasures. It's a blessing that all my attempts to kill you failed."

"I'll be honest with you," Quinn said. "That doesn't sound like much of a deal."

The Druid waved the wand and a wall of pain crashed through Quinn, driving him to his knees.

"I know all about those protections the Vísdómur gifted you, boy. They are useless against the old magic. Loose that symbiote you carry, I will kill it and cut the girl's throat."

Quinn shakily got to his feet, mind racing for an opening. He noticed the two women had managed to circle behind the Druid.

"Niamh," he mind-spoke, " you and Anna are good right there. When you get a chance, grab the girl and take shelter in the house. Don't come out till I come to get you."

"Why do you want the Book, Druid?"

"It's my key to life. It takes an iron will to live as long as I have, boy. The things I've had to do to stay alive would sicken you, but they were necessary. The Book has a spell that will free me from the risk of taking a soul for my renewal every fifty years. I will have that peace of mind. Stop delaying, or this girl will suffer pain you cannot imagine."

Quinn watched the Hag as she paced in circles clockwise then counterclockwise on the porch behind the druid muttering and chanting.

The drone of her voice must have irritated the Druid because he shouted, "For God's sake, woman. Would you be quiet?"

She ignored him. Her muttering grew more strident.

"Quinn, Anna says that she's moving deosil and widdershins. The Hag is spellcasting."

Quinn looked up and smiled suddenly. The Hag was muttering and pacing clockwise then counterclockwise inside a hastily drawn pentagram. His glyphs flared as the spell began to work.

"Tend to your associate, Druid. She calls."

"What are you talking about, boy?" The Druid turned and looked at the witch who now slashed her palm with a small black knife. She fetched a coin out of her pocket and placed a round coin in the blood.

The Druid's eyes grew round. "Why do you have that token? I told you to give it to the assassin," he shrieked. "Stop that right now."

"Oh, Sweet Mother of All, the power. I love the power," her voice was shrilly ecstatic. "All the lovely, lovely power."

With a sharp tearing sound, a swiftly lengthening vertical crack in reality, opened in the meadow in front of them. A cold wind howled through it and three hooded figures in black emerged.

"Look Druid," Quinn sang, "Visitors." Then he mind-spoke, "Get ready, Niamh. No matter what, get her inside and shut the door."

"Shut up, boy. I will deal with you later." The Druid stood and stepped off the porch to confront the figures.

"What do you do here, Drygioni?"

"I am summoned," a sibilant voice sang. "I will collect a debt that accrued for a past summoning, Druid. You forfeit a life for my fallen brother and The Brotherhood always collects its due."

"Now Niamh. Go."

Anna held the door while Niamh snatched up the little girl and raced into the cabin. The door slammed shut with a boom.

Quinn sighed with relief. The little girl was safe and that was all that mattered to him.

"Take the witch then," the Druid was visibly shaken. "She called you. She has your payment. Take her."

Fate gave the Hag a moment of sanity and realization brought terror.

"No--no, my Dolly will save me."

The two masked figures were suddenly beside her, holding her arms tightly. One pulled the coin token out of her hand and flipped it to the master. Then they started dragging her to the rift.

The Hag went wild screaming and struggling in their grip. A hand got loose and tore at one of the hoods, revealing a pale face that Quinn had seen once before.

"I will have my justice, O Assassin." Quinn sang and loosed the dragon. With a loud shriek, it snapped instantly out of his arm and sliced through Charity Babbitt's throat silencing her screams and giving her a final peace.

The elves and Druid stood still in shock at the sudden death of the witch.

"This is too much, human," the unmasked elf shrieked. "We will come back and have our vengeance for this insult."

The dragon snapped forth again and the elf's head rolled free.

"I warned you about threats, Aenrindel," Quinn sang softly. "I gave you a kinder death than your Mistress would have for associating with the Dökkálfar. Go back to your world, Drygioni. Leave me and mine alone."

Without a word, the elves disappeared carrying the body and head of the Hag.

Leaving Quinn facing the shaken Druid.

"It's time to die, Druid." He took a step toward the Druid.

The Druid waved his hand and muttered a cantrip.

Crushing pain dropped Quinn to his knees once again. He felt the wailing of the symbionts inside him. They were particularly vulnerable to this magic.

Quinn pulled all of them, the Dragon, the Other, and the Runes deep inside, and shielded them as best he could.

"My name is Lachlan Joseph Quinn--Venu la bataille, vient la mort,"

He took another step.

The Druid smiled and waved the wand again.

The pain was far worse this time. He blacked out momentarily. When he came to the Druid was pacing and talking.

"... old God's magic, boy. I've had two thousand years to master it. The pain will get worse until your very soul begs for release."

Quinn got to his feet and whispered:

"My name is Lachlan Joseph Quinn--Venu la bataille, vient la mort,"

And took a step.

"Your heart will stop soon, boy. Some heat perhaps a bit of fire to fry your brain."

Heat. A fire ignited deep in his belly. He could smell his skin blistering then blackening then feel the impossible pain as the magic methodically started flaying the blackened skin off his body.

He breathed deep and embraced the pain. Pulling it in--savoring the sensations.

"My name is Lachlan Joseph Quinn--Venu la bataille, vient la mort,"

And took a step closer.

The magic slammed into him and pushed him off his feet out into the meadow. Now the Druid seemed impossibly far away.

"My name is Lachlan Joseph Quinn--Venu la bataille, vient la mort,"

And he took a step.

Blinding pain. his heart felt like it would explode. His vision narrowed then went. He bared his teeth and shouted:

"My name is Lachlan Joseph Quinn--Venu la bataille, vient la mort,"

And took a step.

Nothing happened.

Quinn smiled.

"I left things go too long," the Druid muttered. "Too weak."

"My name is Lachlan Joseph Quinn--Venu la bataille, vient la mort,"

And Quinn took a step, then another.

Triumph.

"He's mine, child. Step away."

Quinn turned and saw the three Vísdómur standing in the rift coldly eying the now weak and trembling Druid.

The youngest stepped through the rift. As she walked, she changed. Green pebbled skin sloughed away. Revealing a little girl dressed in a tattered leather dress.

"Do you remember me, Glew? It is Ingrid. Surely you remember me, Glew."

The Druid face twisted and paled. He turned and vomited.

"I trusted you and mama trusted you, but you sold me to save your life. You sentenced me to centuries of imaginable torment at the hands of the Dökkálfar, all to save your miserable life."

She paced around the trembling man. Her form flickering into shape after shape--from girl to elf to troll to dwarf.

"This boy wants to kill you. Have no doubt he can, your paltry bit of magic won't stop him. He'll use his teeth if he has to. He's done that before. He is death unmatched. I offer you a choice. I will leave you with him and it will be over in a flash or you can come with me and join Mellith. You wanted to live forever and you shall." She held up an amber charm. "Come."

The Druid stumbled fearfully away from Quinn toward her. As he moved, his body began morphing smaller and smaller the closer he got to the glowing charm. Until finally, with a despairing shriek, he merged with it and was gone.

The youngest troll woman smiled at Quinn, gave him a cheerful wink, and was gone.

And all that was left that day was Lachlan Quinn standing in front of the log cabin that was to be his new home.

Chapter Forty-One

Quinn was relishing the peace and quiet of the morning. Saria and her sisters had introduced Charlie and Katrinka to Friday Movie Night and the resulting chocolate and vanilla ice cream driven cacophony over Buttercup's perils in "The Princess Bride" was enough to drive him out to his truck to get some sleep.

He was carefully replacing two rotted boards on the wrap-around porch of his new house while reflecting how much his life had changed in three short weeks when a big blue Chevy Silverado came up the driveway and parked.

Kirk Falstad hopped out with an elderly woman and a young guy in his twenties.

Shifters. Wonder what they want.

"Hey Kirk," he said. "How do you know where to find me? This place is a bit off the beaten path."

"Yes, it is, but I called Gus. He sent me a map. What are you doing living this close to the Opari," Kirk looked a bit warily at Opari looming behind the cabin? "Lan, that whole town down there is chock full of witches. What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were just going to stop in and say goodbye and then go fishing."

"I got side-tracked a bit," Quinn said. "Who are your friends?"

Quinn looked at the two of them. The woman looked back at him curiously. The man looked resentful.

"Remember, you asked me to make some inquiries among the Kin. This is Jarvi Murtro and Dorotea Kangas from over on the Okanagan. They showed up at my mother's place yesterday. They heard about my inquiry and were wondering if you had seen a little wolf."

Quinn nodded to the two.

"Old Jarvi here," Kirk pointed to the young male, "is a tough guy. So, I thought it best to bring him here as quickly as possible."

For some reason, Kirk seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Glad to meet you," Quinn said. "She's here with me." His hackles were up: there was something wrong here. "Are you her people?"

"Where is she?" Jarvi looked to be about twenty or so. Very fit. About six feet tall. He had the leanness of a long-distance runner. Green eyes and a shock of coarse black hair. His handsome face looked to be set into a sneer for life. "Bring her forth immediately."

"Easy Jarvi," The older woman who had the same runner's leanness and large green eyes put her hand on his arm,

He shook her off. "The Alpha put me in charge. Be silent."

Quinn looked at Kirk and mouthed "immediately?"

Kirk grinned.

"Well, Mr. Murtro, first maybe you can tell me about her. Why was her mother forced to give her to a stranger for safekeeping when she had a pack to protect her?

"She was abducted while in the company of my daughters." The woman looked pained and shook her head.

"Shut up woman, you are out of favor with the Alpha. I want the girl."

"Wolf pack squabbles," said Kirk.

"Like the Ursa do not fight," the man snapped.

Kirk nodded amiably to give him the point, then growled, "Good point, we do not however hand cubs over to slavers."

The cabin door opened and Charlie and Katrinka came out blinking sleepily and stood by Quinn.

Katrinka stiffened when she spotted the visitors.

Quinn reached down and put a calming hand on her shoulder.

"Easy little one, everything will be okay."

The little girl leaned into his leg. She was shivering.

"When she came to me, her mother was on the run from a Hag. Do you know how that came to be?"

"A Hag! Surely, you're mistaken, young man," the woman said.

"Thing is," Quinn ignored her comment went on his voice soft and dangerous, "someone promised her to the Hag. Was it you or your Alpha who sold your pack's children to the Sidhe, wolf?"

"Jarvi, what did you do?"

"Bitch, I told you to keep quiet," He drew back an arm to cuff the woman.

"Hold," Kirk slid close enough to grab his arm. "You want to fight with this woman, don't do it while she is under my protection. Answer the question."

With a curse, the young man began his shift only to stop when Quinn loosed the dragon. It snaked out and wound around the shifter's neck.

"Mr. Murtro, what you feel around your neck is a dragon razor," Quinn said conversationally. "I can take your head with a twist of my wrist. I've done it to others before. I don't like to, but I will unless you behave yourself.

"Please don't kill him, Lan. No telling what my mother would do to me if I let him get killed." Kirk turned to the young man. "Wolf, if I were you, I'd calm the fuck down."

He croaked out an agreement.

Quinn's wrist flexed. The dragon unraveled reluctantly and returned to his arm.

"Ma'am," said Quinn, "why don't you tell me what's going on."

"Our pack has had a succession problem. We've had important members of the pack go missing in the last little while, she said. "We don't know where or why. There was some thought that they went over to a new Alpha who had moved into our range. Then our alpha was killed and the new alpha is running things. Katrinka is the old alpha's granddaughter. My sisters asked Niamh Harpe to find her. She called to say she was okay but refused to tell us where to find her."

"Mister, you need to turn her over to me right now," the young wolf demanded. "She belongs with us."

Quinn ignored him. "Will she be safe with you, Ma'am?"

"That's not up to me, it's the Alpha's decision."

Quinn nodded. "Well, Mrs. Kangas, in that case, I must tell you that there is not a single chance in hell that I will turn this little girl over to anybody when there is the slightest chance that she will be harmed."

She gave him a keen look, then nodded and smiled with satisfaction. "I can see you're that kind of man. Okay, girls if you could show me where my room is I'll get settled.

"Wait, what?" Quinn sputtered.

"You go back and tell the Alpha what has transpired," she said to the young wolf. "I am staying here."

"Mother will not be happy," he snarled.

"I will not lose any sleep over your mother's unhappiness. I know my duty." She gave Quinn a scandalized look, "And you, young man, I am certainly not going to leave her here amongst all the Witches who infest this place. A little girl needs her Auntie."

The two girls looked at her with open mouths.

"Why on earth are you two out here in your Pj's? Go get dressed this instant. I've never heard the like of this. Were you raised by wolverines? Scoot" She followed the two girls into the cabin.

Kirk was still laughing as he got in the truck with the other man and drove away.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Hi all, I'm Pete Young--plain-spoken and mostly self-educated. My life experience is varied. I've been a hard rock miner, a five-and-dime store manager, a successful salesman, a sales trainer, a trade show producer, a boilermaker, and a sales and marketing consultant.

These days, I'm a writer. I'm having loads of fun writing stories like the one you're holding in your hand. If you enjoyed it, please write a short review telling folks about it.

Keep an eye out for Book Two of this series coming out this fall.