The Finisher Read online

  I was back in my old home. And the scene I was looking at was remarkable. I had seen it before, only I was a very young and I didn’t remember. That was Eon’s point, I supposed. Simply because you’ve lived through something doesn’t mean you understand its true significance or even recall the details of it correctly.

  I knelt down next to my father as he hovered over the small bed. On the bed was my mother. She looked pale and spent and her hair was slicked back against her head. A female dressed in a white cloak and a domed cap stood next to my father. I recognized her as a Nurse who helped bring new Wugs to life.

  My mother was cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. I could just glimpse the small head and thin black hair of my brother, John. The cry had come from him. John and I shared a birthlight, so from this I knew I was exactly three sessions old. When I lifted my gaze from this sight, I was startled to see my younger self peering into the room from the doorway.

  I was far shorter and so was my hair. But I was still skinny, although the sinewy muscle I was possessed with now was of course not evident yet. I was smiling as I stared at my new little brother. There was an innocence and hope in that look that brought tears to my eyes. And yet two of my family were now gone. Three if you counted John being with Morrigone. Essentially, I was the only one left.

  My father rose, beaming first at John and then at the younger me. He slapped his palms together, and as if on command, I ran and leapt into his arms.

  I gasped. I had forgotten that I had done that as a very young. My father hugged me and then held me low enough to see John close up. I touched his little hand. He made a belching sound and I jumped back and squealed with laughter.

  With a sudden pang, I realized how long it had been since I had laughed like that. I have had fewer and fewer reasons to laugh as my sessions have piled on top of one another. I looked last at my mother. Helen Jane was beautiful despite her ordeal of giving birth to what would become the smartest Wug in all of Wormwood. I knew from Eon that she couldn’t see me, but I drew closer and knelt down next to the bed. My hand reached out and I touched her. Well, not really, because my hand merely passed through her image. I touched John and then my father, with the same result. They were not actually there with me of course, or I with them. But they were real enough.

  I felt my lips starting to quiver and my heart throbbed fiercely. It had been so long since we were a family that I had almost forgotten the joy that came with having one. All the small and large moments, many that I had taken for granted while they were occurring, no doubt bolstered by the certainty that there would be many more.

  Yet such endearing and memorable engagements in life are promised to no one. They come and go and one has to be aware that there is no assurance they will ever come again. It made me tremble to think what I had lost.

  And then the mists clouded over once more and a new image replaced the old.

  They were running hard, the female a bit ahead of the male. I ran too to catch up through the mist that had become my world for now. The trees were towering, though not so towering as I was used to in the present. As I caught up, I saw them more clearly. The female was perhaps four sessions. The male then must be two sessions older, or six. I knew this because the male and female were Delph and I.

  He was already tall for his age, as I was. His hair was not that long yet. We jumped a narrow creek and landed on the opposite side, laughing and pushing each other. Delph’s face was animated, his eyes bursting with possibilities of the sessions ahead. For the life of me, I had not remembered this part of my past until just now.

  Then I realized that Delph would see my grandfather’s Event this session, and he would never be the same. And neither would I. Maybe that’s why I banished this memory, because it was closely aligned with that terrible time. I wanted to call out to them, to warn of what was coming, though I didn’t. There would be no point because they couldn’t hear me.

  This image faded and I found myself in the Hallowed Ground, where Wugs who had slipped away were laid in the soil. I was staring down at the hole in the dirt as my grandmother Calliope’s box was lowered into it. Other Wugs stood around solemnly watching this take place. This was a bit out of order, because she had died from the sick soon after John was born but before me and Delph had been running through the trees.

  And then it occurred to me. Calliope going into the ground meant that my grandfather Virgil was here. I found him in the crowd of Wugs on what I now remembered was a miserably cold light full of drizzle and not even a glimpse of warming sun.

  He was tall but looked bent. He was not so very old, yet looked aged. Calliope and he had been together for so many sessions that when she left him, my grandfather was reduced to something far less than he had been. My father stood next to him, his arm on Virgil’s shoulder. My mother, holding my new brother, stood next to them. And holding my grandfather’s other hand was my younger self.

  I stood next to Virgil and looked up. It was painful to see his sorrow, etched so heavily across his features. Just as I had been seeing my brother being born, I once more was possessed of an enormous sense of loss. I was still a very young when my grandfather vanished. I could have spent so much more time with him. I should have spent so much more time with him. But I had been robbed of that opportunity. My spirits dipped lower than they ever had before.

  At the end of a lifetime’s worth of lights and nights, it seemed that family was really the only important thing there was. And yet how many of us truly appreciated that significance before our last breath left us? We lost family all the time, and we mourned them and buried them and remembered them. Wouldn’t it be better to celebrate family while they are alive to a greater degree than when they are no longer with us?

  I put my hand to my eyes and wept quietly. My body shuddered and I could feel Harry Two right next to me, as though he were holding me up.

  Once I regained my composure, my gaze settled on the ring on my grandfather’s hand. The same ring that had been found in Quentin Herms’s cottage. I looked at the back of my grandfather’s hand and saw the same design echoed there: the three hooks connected. I had no idea what it meant or why he had such a ring or such a mark. But it was becoming clearer all the time that there was much I didn’t know about my family. And it was crystal clear that those were mysteries I had to solve if I was ever going to find the truth. Of my family. Of Wormwood. Even of myself.

  I had my ink stick in my pocket and I used it to draw the three connected hooks on the back of my hand.

  The crowd of Wugs was large. I wasn’t surprised by the size. Calliope was much loved in Wormwood. Near the front of the crowd I saw a younger Ezekiel, and next to him was Thansius, so large and solid. He hadn’t really changed at all. But I was startled to see Morrigone in the back of the crowd. She was many sessions younger at that point, but she also looked nearly the same as she did now.

  I was just about to go over to her when the mists crowded me out once more. It was frustrating, yet I had no other option but to keep going.

  That’s when I heard the scream. As the mists cleared once more, I saw Delph. He looked the same age as in my last memory, which meant it was still around the time of my grandfather’s Event.

  He was running down a hard-packed gravel road that looked instantly familiar to me. I looked up ahead and saw the gates with the large M on them. Delph was running from Morrigone’s home. As I watched, he looked back in terror and then passed by me. That’s when I realized what was happening. That’s when I saw her. Or rather me.

  I was standing in the lane staring after Delph. I was just four sessions old. I recognized the little dolly I carried. It had been a present from my mother on my fourth birthlight and it still looked new. To my shock, my young self started to walk up the gravel path toward the big gates. They opened at my approach. Harry Two was jumping and growling around my legs as I followed my younger self onto the grounds of Morrigone’s home. We arrived at the large wooden door. It was partially open. I heard sounds from
inside but I couldn’t make out what they were. I drew closer, as did my younger self.

  Suddenly, the door flew open all the way and there stood Morrigone, her brilliantly red hair awry and her robes askew. Yet what I was really drawn to were her eyes. They were the eyes of a female who had been struck clean of all reason.

  Morrigone caught sight of my younger self standing there clutching the dolly. She took a step forward. There was a blinding blue light. I heard another scream. And then there was a thud. I closed my eyes. When I reopened them, the mists had enveloped me.

  I sat down on my bum and gripped my head while Harry Two danced and yipped around me. The blue light seemed burned into my eyes. I couldn’t shake it. Morrigone, mad. And then the scream. And the thud. Was that my younger self falling? What had Morrigone done to me?

  I rose on quivering legs. I had never felt this wonky before and that was indeed telling, for many recent things in my life had left me woozy. I wondered where Harry Two and I would end up next. I was actually growing a bit weary of my wandering through the past, but I had to admit, I had learned many things I should already have known.

  That thought died just about the time the blow struck and knocked me arse over elbows.

  I FELL HARD TO the ground and rolled over twice from the force of whatever had hit me. I started to rise, but something was holding me down. When I glanced up, I could see it was Harry Two with his paws on my shoulders. He was surprisingly strong.

  I finally managed to push him off and sit up. The field was far bigger than the Duelum pitch back in Wormwood, but I could see nothing that would have knocked me down. There were blurs of light racing here and there and emitting sparks and rays of colors. At first it seemed truly beautiful and somehow melodious, though it made no sound. But when a silver ray of light hit one of the blurs that I saw racing across the sky, there was a tremendous explosion. An instant later, a body dropped from the heavens and plowed into the dirt less than two feet from where I sat.

  I screamed and scrambled to my feet. Harry Two barked and jumped next to me. I stared down at the body. It was blackened and bits of it were blown off, but I could see the great bearded face and the metal cap and breastplate the male wore. There was liquid all over it, like blood, except instead of red, it was a sparkling green the likes of which I had never seen before. I screamed again and this seemed to rouse him. For a moment, he stared up at me with the one eye he still had. Then he gave a great heaving shudder, the eye froze and he just died, right in front of me.

  I backed away in horror until I heard Harry Two howl. I turned in time to see a steed racing at me. Its size would have put any of Thansius’s sleps to bloody shame. And on the steed was a tall, lean figure outfitted all in chain mail. The figure wore a full metal helmet with face shield and was racing right at me. Only when it raised the face shield did I see with astonishment that it was a female. I could only see a bit of her features because the helmet covered most of her, even with the shield up.

  She lifted her arm. In her gloved hand was a long, golden spear. She took aim as she rode and hurled it right at me. Only it didn’t hit me. It sailed six feet over my head and I whirled in time to see it strike a huge male full in the chest as he was charging me astride another enormous steed. There was a sky burst like I had seen come down from the heavens on stormy nights, and the bloke simply disappeared in a hail of black dust and red fire.

  The spear emerged from the ball of fire, turned in the air and flew back into the female’s throwing hand. Only now she was right on top of me. I covered my head and waited to be trampled. When I looked up, all I saw was the underbelly of the steed as it rose up in the air, lifted by wings that had seemingly sprouted from its withers. It soared into the sky and I watched in fascination as the rider engaged in battle with another figure perched on a winged creature that looked like an adar, only three times as large.

  Everywhere I looked, something was attacking something else. From the air and the ground, powerful streams of light whizzed by at unfathomable velocities. If the streams managed to hit their targets, they simply exploded. If they missed and hit the ground, the concussive force lifted me off my feet. Suffice it to say, I was off my feet just about every sliver.

  Then it occurred to me that this was very nearly identical to the scene I had observed on the wall in the cavern at Stacks before the river of blood had come to nearly hurl me to my death. A full-fledged battle was raging and now I was right in the middle of it.

  As I watched, there came a slight lull in the fighting on the ground. I took the opportunity to run full out, with Harry Two slightly ahead of me. Eon had told me that I could not be seen or heard or presumably touched. Well, I had been knocked down and nearly crushed. I knew if I stayed here, I would die. As a silver beam ricocheted off a boulder, it struck the ground a glancing blow barely five yards from me. I was thrown into the air and came down hard on something. When I rolled away, I saw that that something was a body. It was the female rider in the chain mail, the one who had destroyed the male bearing down on me.

  She had evidently been blasted out of the sky. Yet even as I started to get up, her hand reached out and gripped my arm. A strange, near-terrifying sensation went through my entire body at her touch. My mind clouded over. I felt cold, then warm, and then cold again. An instant later, my reason cleared, but I felt as heavy as a creta. I couldn’t seem to move.

  “Wait,” she said breathlessly. “Please wait.”

  As I looked down at her, she touched the side of her helmet. It took me a moment to comprehend what she wanted. I carefully lifted it off and her long auburn hair swirled around her metal shoulders. I could now fully see her face, and her features were beautiful. As I stared down at her, I was certain I had seen her before, somewhere. Then my gaze went lower and I saw the hole in her chain mail dead center of her chest. Red blood just like mine flowed from this wound. She was dying.

  I had a sudden thought. I whipped out the Adder Stone and waved it in front of the wound and wished her to be healed. But nothing happened. Then it struck me. I was in the past. This female had died long ago. I couldn’t change that.

  I slowly put the Stone away and gazed down at her body. She was tall, even taller than I was, and leaner if that was possible. But I had felt the immense strength in her grip when she grabbed my arm. And she must be extraordinarily powerful to have wielded the sky spear the way she had, and to wear the chain mail while astride a steed.

  The spear! It was lying beside her. I reached for it. But as I did, she spoke again.

  “No, wait,” she gasped, but with urgency in her tone. She struggled up a bit and held out her right hand. On it was a glove made of a bright silver material.

  “Take … this … first,” she said, each word separated by a gurgling breath.

  I hesitated, but only for a moment as the battle raged with increased ferocity all around us. I took the glove off and slipped it onto my own hand. It looked like metal but was as soft as leather.

  She dropped back to the ground. “Now,” she said breathlessly.

  I reached over and picked up the spear. It was lighter than it looked.

  “The Elemental,” she said in a low voice that I had to bend down to hear.

  “What?”

  “The Elemental. Take it.” She took a long burbling breath that I knew heralded the end of her life. “When you have … no other friends … it will be there … for you.”

  I couldn’t think how a spear could be a friend. “Who are you?” I said. “Why are you fighting?”

  She was about to say something in reply when a sound came that shook the very ground. When I looked up, I saw to my horror that advancing upon the battlefield were three gigantic figures, each standing at least twenty yards tall, with huge muscular bodies and small heads. They were grabbing flying steeds and riders out of the air and crushing them in their grasp even as they galumphed across the ground.

  I looked back down when the dying female grabbed my cloak. “Go!”


  “But —”

  “Now.” And what she said next shocked me more than anything ever had in my life.

  She took a shuddering breath, gripped the back of my head and pulled me so close I could see that her eyes were so brilliantly blue they made the color of the entire sky look insignificant. Those eyes bored into me. “You must survive, Vega Jane.” She shook violently and her hand fell away. Her eyes glazed over as she stared upward.

  She was gone.

  I stared down at her. She had called me Vega Jane. She knew who I was. But who was she? And how did she know my name?

  When I looked down at her right hand, my heart nearly stopped. On one of the fingers was a ring, with the same three hooks that my grandfather’s held. I reached out to touch it. And then take it. But it would not come off. I would have to cut off her finger to leave here with the ring. And I could not do that, not to a brave female warrior who had saved my life.

  I took a moment to close her eyes, gripped the Elemental, scooped up Harry Two in my free hand, looked back once at the giants whose every stride covered a score of yards, and ran for my life.

  While the giants were now the focal point on the field, the battle raged on, both on the ground and in the air. As I turned back once to see how close they were growing, a steed and rider swooped low, wielding a great sword nearly as long as I was tall. He ducked under the outstretched arms of one of the giants, and, using both hands, he swung his great blade with incredible force. It sliced the giant’s head clean off its shoulders.

  “Take that, you bloody colossal!” he screamed before he and his steed swooped safely away.

  A colossal? What the bloody Hel was a colossal?

  But as the colossal fell, it soon became apparent that he would topple right onto me. And as I estimated he weighed the better part of four tons, there would be nothing left of Harry Two or me.