The Finisher Page 32

  With one more anxious glance at his dad, which was vastly alleviated when the Nurse I’d paid walked in and announced herself ready to look properly after Duf, we set off.

  Wugs watched goggle-eyed as we passed by on the High Street, Harry Two bringing up the rear. Delph was so very tall, and me in my heels was in good proportion to him. He wasn’t dressed as fancy as me, but I had caught him wetting his hand with his tongue and using it to drive his wild hair a bit into place. And he had stopped at the pipes outside the Care to wash his face and arms and rinse some of the grime off his clothes.

  “Been meaning to do it for some lights,” he explained sheepishly. “Just ain’t got round to it is all.”

  We were seated at the Starving Tove at a table not in the back this time but up near the front. Every time I looked around, I caught Wugs staring at me. Females seemed irritated with their mates and kept hooking them by the chin and pulling their attention back to their own table.

  Delph said, “Every Wug’s watching you, Vega. ’Specially the males. Har.”

  “Well, they’ll get over it. Can’t make silk out of a sow’s ear.”

  He gazed at me blankly. “Do ya hear yourself? Sow’s ear, my eye. You’re, you’re …” He took a deep shuddering breath. “You’re beautiful, Vega Jane.”

  Now he turned so very red in the face that I thought he was choking.

  “Thank you, Delph,” I said quite sincerely, although I was also blushing. The only Wugs to ever call me beautiful were my parents and my grandparents, and I had always believed they had done so out of a sense of duty.

  We ordered and had the best meal I had ever had. Later, our bellies so full I could not pack one more thing inside mine, I managed to do so anyway. It was a bit of cake that we ate together as Delph wished me a light and night of happiness.

  “I am happy, Delph,” I said. “Very happy to be with you.”

  He tried to stop me, but I paid for the meal with my coin. “I should be giving you something,” he protested. “Not the other way round.”

  “You have given me something.”

  “I have not,” he said firmly.

  I reached over and gripped his hand. “You’ve given me the pleasure of your company on a very special light.”

  He smiled bashfully and squeezed my hand back. “Wouldn’t want to be no other place, Vega Jane.” He paused and his lips quivered. “’Cept maybe with me dad.”

  “I know,” I said quietly.

  He seemed to read my thoughts. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Now, ’bout the next round of the Duelum.”

  I reached over and put my fingers over his lips, quieting him. “Not this night, Delph. This night let’s just …”

  He nodded as my voice trailed off. “Okay, Vega Jane. Okay.”

  I walked him back to the Care and left him there with his dad.

  I looked to the sky and calculated the time. I made it back to my digs, changed my frock and heels and stockings for my new trousers, sweater and boots. I picked up Destin, wrapping it around my waist and under my new cloak. I also pocketed the Elemental and the package wrapped with pretty paper, and then I set off.

  I hurried along until I was well away from Wormwood proper. I reached my predetermined hiding place at the exact sliver I wanted. The carriage rattled out from Morrigone’s home two slivers later. I knew Morrigone was inside. I knew she was going to meet with Thansius at the south portion of the Wall near Stacks at the second section of night. I knew this because I had written that request in Thansius’s hand on his official stationery. I had chosen the south side of the Wall because it was the farthest away from Morrigone’s home and would give me time to complete my task.

  When the carriage was well past, I hurried up not to the front door but to the back. I took out my tools and soon the lock gave way and I slipped into the house. I looked around quickly for any sign of William or the maid I knew also worked here.

  The only Wug I wanted to see was John. I silently mounted the stairs, counted down the doors to his room and knocked quietly. I stepped back as footsteps came. I knew they were John’s by his gait.

  The door opened and there he was. He seemed to have gotten a bit taller and his frame had continued to fill out. His clothes were beautiful, but this time so were mine. And I would wager coin that this night I was as clean and smelled as nice as he did.

  He looked at me curiously and I suddenly realized he didn’t recognize me.

  “John, it’s me, Vega.”

  His mouth fell open slightly. “Have I changed that much?” I said in amusement.

  “What happened to you?” he asked.

  “Some new odds and ends.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Now my face paled. There was no warmth in that query. There was only suspicion tinged with impatience. “I came to visit you.”

  “Morrigone has told me what took place between you. She saved your life before Council. Your life, Vega! And you repay her kindness with betrayal.”

  “You did not say this when we were at the Care. When you were crying your eyes out over our parents being gone. You were glad I told you. You said so.”

  He waved this away. “I have had more time to think of it. Yes, I needed to know about our parents. But you still betrayed Morrigone.” He stopped and stared darkly at me. “What do you want, Vega? I have much to do this night still.”

  I collected my composure and said in a softer tone, “I came to visit. I wanted to before now, but I’ve been so busy. And I know you have too with the Wall.”

  I sucked in a breath and silently cursed myself. I saw his features darken even more at the mention of the Wall.

  “You told my workers to disobey my orders,” he said sharply.

  I thought to myself, Your bloody workers? “They were weakening the straps by punching more holes in them. You know what happened to Duf Delphia. He lost his legs.”

  He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Morrigone reported this to me.”

  She reported this to you? I thought.

  He continued. “He will be taken care of. Timbertoes. Sticks. Injury wages. He will have no reason to complain.”

  “He will have no reason to complain?” I said incredulously. “With his legs gone? How would you feel if you were getting the timbers and sticks and not him?”

  “He is a worker Wug, Vega. Injuries to those types happen. But they will be taken care of. And their families. We are grateful for their service for the greater good.”

  We are grateful for their service? Since when did John start talking in the third Wug about himself?

  “I’m a worker Wug,” I said. “What if my legs or arms got lopped off while I was performing for you and the greater bloody good?”

  He stared up at me, his expression unchanged by my blunt words.

  I looked past his shoulder and into his room. Every inch of every wall was covered with scrolls, and on them were languages and symbols and drawings that made me gape. Some of them were hideous things, foul things. There was one creature whose head was a mass of slimy tentacles, and another whose legs were those of a spider and whose mouth was literally lined with fangs.

  I shot him a bewildered glance tingled with the horror I was feeling. He quickly closed his door, blocking my view.

  “What are those things, John?” I said, my voice tipped with disgust.

  “Many of the things we will be pitted against are horrible, but that does not mean we cannot learn from them. In fact, the more we know, the better prepared we will be.”

  “I just don’t want you delving into things that may … overwhelm you, John.”

  “I’m up to it, Vega, I can absolutely assure you.”

  I swallowed and finally said what I had come here to say. “John, would you consider coming back to live with me? At our old home? We could —”

  But he was already shaking his head. “Impossible, Vega. Wormwood needs me doing what I am doing. Morrigone assures me that I am absolutely indi
spensable.”

  All the hopes I had carried with me here instantly vanished. Before I could say anything, John hurried on. “You should not be here,” he said. “Morrigone will not be pleased. She had to go out to meet with Thansius, but she’ll be back this night.”

  “I’m sure she will. What has she been saying about me to you? Other than my betraying her?”

  “Nothing, not really.”

  Now John the young had returned to me, but with a significant difference. He was lying. And he was not good at it because of having had no practice. Unlike me.

  “Did she mention that we did battle?” He blinked rapidly. “Did she tell you that she wrecked the window at my digs and then vanished?” He blinked more rapidly. I pointed over his shoulder toward his room. “What are those things on your walls?”

  “Just things I am learning.”

  “They look foul and evil. Is that what Morrigone wants you to learn about?”

  “My studies are no concern of yours!” he said defiantly.

  “Do you think our parents would want you knowing about such things?”

  “They are gone. I must continue to live. The more I know, the better.”

  “You might want to ask yourself, why does Morrigone want you to know such things? For the greater good? How likely is that?”

  I let the silence linger. I wanted him to really think about what I had just said.

  “You … you’re still in the Duelum.”

  “I know I am. I’m surprised you’re even aware of it.”

  “I … I hope that you win.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You should go now.”

  I reached in my pocket and pulled out the package wrapped in pretty paper and handed it to him. “Happy twelve sessions, John.”

  He registered surprise as he looked down at the package. My brother and I shared the same birthlight. He looked up at me with guilty eyes. “But that means … I lost track …”

  “It’s okay. As you said, you’ve been very busy.” I was gratified to see that under a shell that was hardening with each passing light, my brother was still in there somewhere. But for how much longer?

  “Open it,” I said.

  His fingers dispatched the pretty paper. It was a journal inside.

  “You’ve read so many books, John, that I thought it quite unnecessary to give you another. But as smart as you are, I thought you might want to start writing one of your very own.”

  He looked up at me with tears in his eyes. Slowly, we both reached out for the other and embraced. I squeezed John as tightly as I could and he did the same to me.

  “I love you, John.”

  “You best go,” he said anxiously.

  I nodded. “I best,” I replied.

  And so I did.

  As I left Morrigone’s beautiful home, I doubted I would ever see John again. In truth, I had come here to see if he would leave Wormwood and go through the Quag with me. That was obviously not to be. So now that Delph no longer could go, it was just me.

  I would go through the Quag alone.

  THE NEXT ROUND of the Duelum pitted the last four combatants against one another. My opponent was Ted Racksport. I arrived at the pitch early, in my other set of old clothes. The betting this time showed me to be a slight favorite. I put two coins on me to win, with Roman Picus. He snarled in response and threw the parchment at me.

  “How are the Carbineer patrols coming, Roman?” I asked. “I haven’t seen you blokes around much lately.”

  “We’re there, female, you can be sure-a that.” He sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?” he asked, his gaze quizzical.

  “Lavender and honeysuckle,” I answered. “If you like the scent, you can buy it at Fancy Frocks on the High Street.”

  His jaw collapsed. “Are you doolally? Fancy Frocks? How likely is it I’d put even one of me toes in that place, eh?”

  “You never know, Roman. If you want a female as mate, you might want to smell like something other than flame water and smoke weed.”

  He gaped at me and I smiled sweetly at him, and then I walked over to the quad. Since there were only two matches scheduled, Racksport and I would battle first. The second bout would take place directly after. The crowd was growing larger by the sliver. As I looked toward the raised platform, it seemed that many more Council members and their mates were there. I also thought I saw a glimpse of Thansius.

  Silas, the aged Wug referee, headed over and I readied myself. I was taking no chance with Racksport. I had seen up close how tricky and resourceful he was fighting. I could not use the same move I had employed against Duk Dodgson, for Racksport would be ready for that. So I had something else up my sleeve. While it was true I could have defeated him easily using Destin, I had already proven that I could win using my wits and what other talents I actually possessed. And I wanted to beat Racksport fair and square.

  But it was not to be.

  Silas came up to me and raised my hand in victory. I looked at him, puzzled, as a groan went up from the crowd of Wugs who had been all set to see some blood.

  “What happened?” I asked him in bewilderment.

  “Win by default is what,” he answered promptly, looking at my left ear.

  “Why? Where’s Racksport?”

  “Shot himself in the foot with one-a his blasted mortas, that’s why,” barked Roman Picus, who had drawn close to the edge of the quad. “Just now heard. Can’t fathom how lucky you are, Vega. Ted’s a right good fighter.”

  “Really?” I said. “I was just thinking how lucky Racksport was. A shot in the foot with a morta is nothing to what I was going to do to him.”

  Roman looked at Silas. “And I ain’t paying off on no bets. Not with no bout.”

  “Naturally,” replied Silas. He cleared his throat and in his weedy voice said, “Section forty-two, paragraph D, of the Duelum Rules of Combative Conduct plainly states that —”

  “Oh, bugger off,” bellowed Roman as he turned on his heel and stormed away.

  Grinning, I turned to watch the other match that would now take place immediately. The grin fell off my face quick as a heartbeat.

  Newton Tilt, the slithy Cutter from Stacks, was stepping into the quad. I had watched two of his other bouts and knew how strong he was, especially his grip. He was a good, capable fighter. Still, I feared for him. Because stepping onto the quad to face him was Ladon-Tosh. I had lost track of the remaining combatants, and on the betting board I had always focused only on my own bout. But the simple fact was, I would be facing the winner of this round. And when I looked at Ladon-Tosh, I had little doubt it would be him.

  I drew closer, along with pretty much every other Wug out here.

  The referee gave instructions and Tilt put out his hand for Ladon-Tosh to take. He didn’t. Tilt grinned at this sporting insult and retreated a few yards, his arms raised, his shoulders squared and his jaw set.

  Ladon-Tosh took nary a step back. He just stood there staring off like he always did at Stacks. The bell sounded. Tilt came rushing on, his fist cocked back, his other arm up as his guard.

  He had drawn within a foot of Ladon-Tosh, who still hadn’t moved, when it happened. I’m not sure I even saw the blow fall. No, I am sure. I didn’t. All I saw was Tilt rise up in the air and hurtle backward far faster than he had ever rushed forward. He landed in a crazy pile of arms and legs a good twenty feet out of the quad and didn’t move again.

  The referee rushed over to his prostrate body and I saw him grimace painfully at the state of Tilt. He frantically waved over a team of Mendens. They rushed forward with their bags and huddled around the fallen Wug. We all held our collective breath. All except Ladon-Tosh, who had merely walked off the quad and left the pitch. I stared after him, dumbfounded. When I turned back to the Mendens, I saw with horror that they were placing a sheet fully over Tilt, including his face. I turned to the old male Wug standing next to me.

  “Is he … ? He can’t be …” I said shakily, all my limbs tinglin
g and trembling.

  In a quavering voice he said, “’Fraid he is, Vega. Ladon-Tosh has killed that poor lad with one blow. I can’t believe it neither.”

  They hoisted Tilt up on a stretcher and carried him off. His sobbing mother came rushing up and grabbed the hand of her dead son that dangled off the side of the stretcher. She walked beside him, overcome with the grief of it all.

  I looked around at other Wugs and they were as stricken as I was. Even Roman Picus stood over by his betting circle with his eyes wide as teacup saucers. As I continued to watch, bits of parchment dribbled unnoticed by him out of his clenched hand and littered the ground around his boots.

  I felt something touch my arm and I looked down.

  I was surprised to see that it was Hestia Loon. She gripped my wrist firmly and said in a fierce whisper, “You are not to step one foot inside the quad with the likes of Ladon-Tosh. Not one foot, mind you, Vega. Your poor mum. Why, she would never have allowed it. And since she’s not here to speak up for herself, I will. I’ll talk to bloody Thansius himself if I must, but you are not fighting that … that thing.”

  She stormed off, leaving me openmouthed. As Wugs began to disperse, more and more of them came over to me. They knew I was next up for Ladon-Tosh. And, like Hestia Loon, not a single one of them wanted me to fight him.

  As I was leaving a few slivers later, Roman Picus came over and handed me back my two wagered coins. He eyed me nervously and then said in a subdued tone, “Listen, Vega, you saw? I mean you saw?”

  “I saw,” I replied quietly.

  I could see his hands were trembling and his lips quivered. “It’s not like you and me have always seen eye to eye on things, o’course.”

  I managed a brief smile. “No, we haven’t. In fact, you accused me of cheating.”

  “I know, I know,” he said miserably. He gazed over my shoulder at the pitch. “But I liked your mum and dad. And Virgil too, truth be known. And there weren’t a finer Wug than your granny, Calliope. And o’course John and all his good work.”

  “What are you trying to say, Roman?”