The Keeper Read Online Free PDF Page A

thing.
    Thorne said, “Do you know what they’re mining off that rock?”
    I looked at him. “No.”
    He clapped his hands together and one of the gnomes ran off but was back in a jiffy, hefting a large bucket made of wood and encircled with metal bands.
    Thorne took it from him as the gnome respectfully swept off his cap and bowed. I could see that his hair was bushy and filthy. And from the smells wafting off the thing, I could tell that bathing did not occupy a sliver of the creature’s time.
    Thorne held up the bucket so that I could see inside. It was filled with blackish powder.
    “Still don’t know what it is?” asked the king in an amused tone.
    Delph answered, “Looks like morta powder.”
    Thorne seemed impressed. “Well, well, brains and brawn. But you’re not exactly right. It’s not yet morta powder, but it will be.” He pointed to the high rock the gnomes were working. “That stone has two of the three elements necessary to make the powder. The third is charcoal, which must come from trees on the Quag’s surface. I brought the requisite formula with me here, and the ekos, once I trained them up a bit, are delightfully efficient in doing the appropriate mixing, compression and other tasks necessary. Indeed, they are quite good at building many things.” He thrust the bucket back into the gnome’s claws and waved him off with a casual flick of his hand.
    The creature instantly obeyed, but as I kept my gaze on him, I could see him look back with a sullen expression as he clacked his claws ominously against the bucket’s side.
    Thorne clapped his hands, and the gnomes returned to their work. I marveled at how rapidly they tore through the rock and dirt with their claws. They were like ants flitting through grains of sand.
    Thorne led the way down another passage. We arrived at a large, stout wooden door with a blackened iron keyhole. Thorne produced a key and opened it. We filed inside and as I saw what was there, I gasped.
    It was a large room, and from floor to ceiling, it was filled with mortas. Tall, short and even some in-between models I had never seen before. They were all shiny and looked in perfect working order.
    “You would need furnaces and Dactyls to make these,” I noted.
    “We have both,” replied Thorne. “Plus a great many other skilled ekos. They have proven themselves quite adaptable to my teachings.”
    Thorne walked over to a corner and patted a thick-barreled contraption that was bracketed by two wooden wheels. “We call this a cannon,” he said. He pointed to another section of wall, where many crates were stacked. “And powder and ammunition for the weapons.”
    Delph was staring upward at the shelves and stacks of shiny mortas.
    He said, “What d’ya need all these for?”
    But somehow I already knew the answer.
    “War,” I said. “You’re planning on going to war.”
    Thorne smiled, even as Delph exclaimed, “Cor blimey!”
    I added, “And you’re not going to war against beasts in the Quag.”
    Thorne shook his head and smiled even more broadly. “What would be the point?”
    I finished my horrible thought. “You’re going to war against Wormwood.”

W AR? A GAINST W ORMWOOD? ” exclaimed Delph. He stared over at Thorne like he wanted to rip him apart. “Are you nutters?”
    Thorne gave him a withering look. “I can assure you that I am in full possession of my faculties, my brawny bloke.”
    Thorne’s statement had hit me as hard as a collision with a garm. I felt sick to my stomach. Through my mind flashed the horrors that would result from what Thorne was planning. My village of Wormwood, all the places I knew so well, Stacks, the Care, Steeples, Council building, Loons, and my old family home, all lay in ruin. And starker still, I saw piles of Wugmorts dead from morta wounds. Even mighty Thansius and magical Morrigone.
    Chiefly, though, I saw my brother, John, lying dead, his eyes frozen, his features still, his magnificent mind gone for all