The Finisher Read online

  I realized that this painting could have been about a battle where I had not been present at all. But everything else was so exactly as I remembered it that I did not think this was the case. What had been erased was myself and the male on the flying steed, with the frek added in its stead. And the shield of the warrior was down when I clearly remembered she had raised it, allowing me to see that she was a female. Perhaps Morrigone did not want others to make the connection that her ancestor had been such a warrior. And there were certainly no colossals in the painting because to all Wugs except me, there were no such things as colossals.

  I stepped back from the painting when I heard rapid footsteps coming down the hall. The prim Wug was returning, her face a bit flushed, I thought.

  “Thansius will see you,” she said breathlessly, her eyes bulging at this prospect. “By all merciful Steeples, he will see you right this sliver.”

  “Is that unusual?” I said.

  “No, not a’tall. If you think asking an amaroc over for tea and cookies is usual.”

  She led me down the hall to a large metal door that stood at the end. She timidly knocked and a loud “Enter” was heard. She opened the door, pushed me through, slammed the portal shut, and I could hear her heels clickety-clacking back down the marble floor.

  A bit breathless, I turned and took in the large room filled with innumerable objects. Then my gaze fixed on the large Wug sitting behind a desk that seemed too small by half for him or this room. Thansius rose and smiled at me.

  “Vega, please come and sit.”

  I came forward with as much confidence as I could muster, and I had to delve awfully deep to find any. I sat in a fragile-looking chair opposite his desk. I heard it creak when I placed my full weight on it and I was terrified it would collapse. But it held firm and I relaxed.

  Thansius had resumed his seat and was staring at me expectantly. His desk was littered with letters, rolled scrolls, reports and Wall plans, along with blank official parchment of Council. Before I could speak, he said, “I don’t remember you breaking your nose in the Duelum.”

  “Stacks,” I said casually. “Bit careless. It’s healing. Just takes time.” I self-consciously rubbed at the black eye the break had given me. My other eye was still swollen, though it too had turned black.

  “I see,” he replied in a way that told me he knew I was telling an untruth.

  I cleared my throat and said, “I won my bout this light.”

  He held up a sheet of parchment from the piles on his desk. “I know you did. The report came a sliver after you so quickly subdued Mr. Dodgson. That is quite an achievement. He’s strong and has good technique. But if he has a weakness —”

  “He’s too conceited to admit he has weaknesses on which he should improve.”

  Thansius nodded thoughtfully. “Precisely.”

  “Well, maybe it’s harder for near-perfect Wugs to acknowledge they have problems. Me, I have so many shortcomings, I try to work on them all the time.”

  Thansius smiled. “I think that would be a good lesson for us all, perfect or not.”

  “I bet on myself to win,” I said, rattling the coins in my pocket.

  “The laws of Council forbid my wagering on any Duelum. However, if I were to have a flutter, I would have fluttered on you, Vega.”

  “Why?” I asked, suddenly very interested in his answer. “Dodgson was a formidable and experienced opponent.”

  His eyes narrowed, but his smile remained. “There is strength here,” he replied as he held up a massive arm and flexed. I saw a muscle pull hard against the confines of his robes. “And there is strength here,” he continued, touching his chest. “You have a great deal of strength, I think, here, which is where true power resides.”

  I said nothing but continued to stare at him curiously.

  He added, “One more victory and you battle for the right to be champion.”

  “And a thousand coins,” I added.

  He waved his hand dismissively. “What does coin really have to do with it? I fought in many Duelums and never was coin part of the prize. I think —”

  Here he broke off and I think I know why. His gaze was taking in how thin I was. How dirty my cloak was. How old my brogans were. And how filthy was my skin.

  He looked down for a moment. “As I was saying, I think that a prize of coins is a good thing, actually. It can help Wugs … and their families.”

  “Yes, it can,” I said. “But I come to you on another matter.”

  “Oh?” he said expectantly, seeming delighted with the change in topic.

  “Duf Delphia?”

  He nodded. “I know his status. I saw him at hospital last night before he was moved to the Care. It is quite tragic.”

  I was surprised that he had visited. Delph hadn’t said. But then again, Delph had a lot to think about now.

  “Morrigone said that Duf would be taken care of by Council.”

  “That is quite correct. He was struck down while on Council work on the Wall. He will receive life wages and timbertoes at our cost.”

  “That is very generous,” I said. “But what of his occupation?”

  “You mean as a beast trainer? I have never seen a finer one in all my sessions, but now, with no legs? You can well see the difficulty.”

  “I can. But if he is paired with another Wug who has an interest in beast training? Duf could teach him, for Wormwood will need another one of course. The Wug could act as Duf’s legs while he is properly trained up.”

  Thansius added, “And that way Mr. Delphia could have not just coin with which to live on, but a proper purpose for his remaining sessions?”

  “Yes,” I replied.

  I saw his eyes crinkle and his mouth widen into a smile. “I think it a sound idea. I will make preparations for doing just as you advise. Did you have anyone in mind?”

  I gave him the name of a Wug who I thought would be a fine beast trainer. He turned to take up his ink stick and put on his specs to write the name down. As he did so, my hand shot out and scooped up a blank piece of parchment with Thansius’s name and the official seal of Council on top of the page. By the time Thansius turned back around, the parchment was safely in my pocket.

  I watched closely as he wrote the name in a particularly stiff hand, so unlike the flourish with which I had seen Morrigone write and with none of the curlicues of which Domitar was fond. I thanked Thansius and hustled out.

  I passed the prim Wug on the way out. “Oh, thank the Steeples you’ve come out in one piece, luv,” she said with obvious great relief.

  I looked at her in surprise. “What, did you expect Thansius to do me harm?”

  She looked horrified at the thought. “O’course not. I just thought you might, well, that you might simply combust from the honor of being in his exalted presence.”

  “Well, I didn’t. Har!” I said crossly and made my way out.

  Going down the steps, I patted my pocket where the official parchment sat. I had seized an opportunity that had presented itself. I smiled because I knew exactly what I was going to do with it.

  I was going to write a letter.

  This light was a very special one for me. I was going to make the most of it.

  I WALKED DIRECTLY BACK to my digs, where Harry Two was waiting not so patiently for me. The plan had more fully come together in my mind as I was traveling here. I pulled the chair over to my table, took out my ink stick, filled it and then set to my task with the parchment. I had to see out of one eye, but I knew what I wanted to write.

  I had seen Morrigone write on the report that a Wug working on the Wall had given her. Thus, I’d had a good gander at her handwriting. I knew now that all the parchment at Stacks that had constituted my instructions in building the pretty things for two long sessions had been written in her hand. I did not think my fury at the female could have increased, but it had. She had me work my fingers to the bone for low wages and all the pretty things had ended up in a hole.

  Yet it was
not Morrigone’s handwriting that I would be replicating this light. It was Thansius’s. And I had seen several examples of Thansius’s penmanship on his desk at the Council building. The letter was composed slowly as I took great pains to make the recipient believe that the missive had come from the Chief of Council, using words that I had heard him employ many times.

  I set the parchment aside after it was completed. My stomach was rumbling and I looked in my larder, which, unfortunately, I found to be empty. As I stared at the barren space, I put my hand in my pocket and found the coins that I had won from Litches McGee. I had never done this before but I decided now was as good a time as any. I started to head out, but then I looked down at myself. I was battered, bloody and filthy.

  I went to the back of my digs with a bit of suds and spent ten slivers rubbing the dirt off with water from the pipes. I had taken off every stitch of clothes I had on, right down to my skin only. I dried off and went back inside. My hair was wet but clean and I could stand the smell of myself for once in a great while. I again looked at the coins in my hand and an idea occurred to me.

  It was an impossibly silly idea, but I thought, Why not?

  I found a too-short pair of trousers and a too-small sweater my mum had knitted for me sessions ago, from the stack in the corner that I had failed to finish sorting through. I squeezed my long feet into too-tight shoes from three sessions ago. At least these things were clean, or anyway, far cleaner than my usual clothes.

  There was a shop on the High Street called Fancy Frocks that sold female clothing. I had passed it often with never a thought to going inside. When I opened the door, a bell tinkled and a shop’s assistant, a plump female about forty sessions old, quite nattily attired, came out from the back. She looked at me with a severe eye.

  “Can I help you?” she asked in a way that told me she believed me beyond assistance.

  I was suddenly tongue-tied and my confidence, shaky at best in situations like this, dropped through my feet and directly onto the floor. I mumbled, “I was hoping for some new things.”

  “What was that?” she said in a loud voice.

  “Some new things,” I said halfheartedly. I had about made up my mind to turn and walk back out. Wugs like me just didn’t do things like this. Our clothes came as hand-me-downs when they came at all.

  “Well, why didn’t you say so, dear?” she said. “I suppose you’ve got coin?” she added inquisitively. I held out a palm full for her to see. Her face brightened. “More than enough.” She put on a pair of thick specs. “Now let me look at you.”

  Her eyes behind the glasses widened. “Why, you’re that lass in the Duelum. Vega Jane.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  She looked me up and down. “You’re tall and slender and you’ve nice wide shoulders and long legs. Clothes will hang well on you, my dear.”

  “They will?” I said in a perplexed tone. Clothes hanging well was something I knew nothing about.

  “Now, let me just nip some things out and we’ll see what we’ll see, shan’t we?”

  Many slivers later and many garments tried on, some discarded and others settled upon, she had packaged my new clothes while I now wore the one she had fitted me with because, well, I fancied it the best. The clothes I had come in with went directly into the dustbin.

  Now I wore a blue frock, white stockings and shoes that had heels on them and made me even taller.

  She gazed in admiration at her handiwork. “Well, I’ll be. I knew there was something under there, dear. We just had to dig for it, didn’t we?”

  “I guess so,” I said in a half whisper.

  “Now what about your hair, luv?” said the kindly if exuberant Wug who had long before introduced herself as Darla Gunn. There was a looking glass mounted on the wall. I stared at myself in it.

  “What about my hair?” I asked.

  Darla eyed it with what I thought was a professional appraisal. “Well, it needs a bit of sorting out. Tidying up, like. Maybe a cut or two or three, if you know what I mean. Nothing too drastic, well, maybe just a wee bit drastic.” She sighed and added in an apologetic tone, “It does need some work, dear.”

  I gave a few stabs at it with my hand and it settled back down just as unruly as before. “How?” I asked.

  “Oh, there are many ways. And seeing as how you’ve surely spent a good many coins this light, I’ll throw the tidying-up in for free.”

  “Will it hurt?”

  Gunn laughed. “Crikey! And you being in the Duelum and all.”

  I smiled and touched my battered face.

  She said, “Saw you best Non, Vega. Cheered like a mad female, I did. Just didn’t want to go on about it when I recognized you. You’re like, well, a celebrity now, aren’t you?”

  I flushed at these words.

  “But your poor face. Your eyes, that nose. Well, I’ll see what I can do to tidy them up till they heal good and proper.”

  She was as true as her word. The things she did to my hair and how she doctored my face were totally foreign to me. When she was done and had laced a white ribbon with a bow through my newly done tresses, I looked in the glass and caught my breath. It seemed that I had disappeared and been replaced by another female.

  She took out a little bottle with a tiny hose attached to it and a round inflated part at one end. She squeezed on the inflated part and some liquid misted on my neck and cheek. I flinched and she just laughed.

  “Take a wee sniff, Vega,” she said.

  I did so and the most wonderful aroma entered my nostrils. “Lavender,” I said.

  “With just a touch of honeysuckle. Made it myself.” Darla gazed at me, and her face crinkled into a smile. “Very nice, Vega. Very nice indeed. Now, once your face heals up proper-like, what a stunner you’ll be, luv.”

  A stunner? Part of me was certain this would be a dream from which I would awake and have to deal once more with filthy duds and grubby hair. I paid over my coin and took my packages and walked out of the shop, feeling things I had never felt before.

  Two Wugs whom I knew were passing by as I came out. One was a young Tiller named Rufus, the other was Newton Tilt, the Cutter at Stacks who I always thought was so slithy. Rufus gaped and ran into a post supporting the roof over the walkway and knocked himself to the cobblestones. Newton simply stood there looking me up and down with a silly grin on his face.

  “Vega, is that really you down under?” said Newton.

  I hurried on, my face reddening. Down under?

  I had one more shop to go to and one more item to purchase. I paid my coin and had it wrapped in pretty paper and then hurried on. I had shopped more this light than I ever had before. Which wasn’t saying much because I had never really shopped before.

  I got back to my digs and threw Harry Two for a loop. It seemed that at first my canine didn’t know me, and his hackles rose and he bared his teeth. But after he sniffed around me for a bit, he seemed satisfied I was actually his owner after all.

  I found a scrap of looking glass that had once belonged to my mother. I managed to angle it so that I could see my face and hair. I again shook my head in disbelief. But my eyes were still swollen and the skin blackened, my nose broken and my cheek bruised and swollen as well. It sort of ruined everything.

  I sighed and then a wistful desire crept into my head.

  I found my hand going into the pocket of my frock and pulling out the Adder Stone. I held it in front of my face and thought good thoughts and the blemishes instantly vanished. My eyes were normal, the swelling was gone and I could feel my nose reset and mend immediately. I slowly put the Stone away and then set off.

  I checked the falling sun and believed the time to be right. I walked quickly, for my energy had returned with my physical transformation.

  The trip to Morrigone’s went quickly and I was able to sneak up to the front door and push the parchment through the slit there. I knew that Morrigone would not be home yet, nor would John. But I was certain the ever-faithful William wou
ld ensure that Madame Morrigone would receive it.

  That errand complete, I hurried on to my next destination. The Care.

  AFTER LEAVING HARRY Two to wait outside, I spoke with a Care Nurse I found in the corridor. A coin was passed after I told her what I wanted. As I thought, Delph was perched on his dad’s cot. He looked up when I opened the door.

  “Vega Jane? What are you doing here again?”

  “I’ve arranged for a Nurse to sit with Duf.”

  “What?” he said, looking puzzled.

  “When was the last time you had a proper meal, Delph?”

  As I came fully into the curious light provided in each room, I could see Delph’s eyes widen in amazement. It actually sent a chill up my spine and I found myself smiling like a silly young.

  “Vega Jane, whatta ya … whatta ya done to yourself?” he sputtered.

  “Just … just tidied up a bit,” I said shyly.

  He rose and walked over to me. “Tidying up? Is that what you call it?”

  “What would you call it, Delph?” I asked bluntly, and then wondered why I had.

  This query caught him off guard. He scratched his head, looked unsure.

  “Uh, I think I’d call it … Well, you do look quite tidy, now that you mention it. Quite tidy indeed.” Then his face turned crimson.

  I smiled. “I’m here to take you to meal.”

  He started to say something but then shook his head. “Dunno, Vega Jane, just dunno.” He looked over at Duf. “What ’bout me dad?”

  “That’s why the Nurse is coming.”

  “You look so, well, you look so, you know and … and I don’t.” He ran his gaze down his dirty self.

  I hooked my arm through his. “I think you look perfectly respectable. And I’m going to eat a meal at the Starving Tove and I want you to come with me.”

  He suddenly grinned. “What’s the occasion?”

  I decided to just tell him. “It’s my birthlight. I’m fifteen sessions old, Delph.”

  He looked dumbstruck. “But I ain’t done nothin’ … I mean I didn’t know….”

  “There’s no need for you to do anything other than accept my offer to join me for a meal to celebrate my coming into Wormwood fifteen sessions ago.”