The Finisher

QUADRAGINTA TRES: A Matter of Parchment

I STOPPED BY MY digs, picked up Harry Two and together we walked to the Care. Since Non was no longer guarding the place, I hurried in and found Duf’s room. I was surprised because they had put him in my parents’ old quarters. I read the nameplate on the door twice to make sure.

I eased the door open and peered in. As I suspected would be the case, Delph was perched on the edge of his father’s cot, rubbing Duf’s head with a wet cloth. I opened the door all the way and Harry Two and I strode in. Delph looked up.

“Duelum?” he said.

“I won.”

“Who’d you fight?”

“Doesn’t matter. How’s Duf?”

I drew closer to the bed and looked down at him. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully. I stole a glance at his legs, or where his legs used to be. The sheets lay flat against the mattress there, them having nothing of Duf to cover.

Delph replied, “Okay I guess. Timbertoes coming next light.”

I nodded at this. With timbertoes, Duf would be able to hobble about, but that would be all. No more beast training for him. Sometimes, no matter how good he was, a trainer had to run for his life. And you couldn’t do that on timbers.

“I’m so sorry, Delph,” I said.

“’Tain’t your fault, Vega Jane. Accident. Happens.”

I struggled with what to say next. How could I tell him that my brother had redesigned the straps and that had caused them to fail? Would he go and attack my brother and be thrown in Valhall for his troubles?

In the end I said nothing. Delph’s eyes searched my face for a moment and then he looked away and started mopping his father’s brow once more. I looked from father to son.

“Delph?”

He turned again to me.

“The Quag?” I said in a low voice. “After the Duelum?”

I could see the range of emotions flitter across Delph’s face. He looked from me to his father. From me again and then back to his father. And his gaze symbolically held there. He lowered his head.

“S-sorry, Vega Jane.”

I turned away as I felt the tears climb to my eyes. I patted him on the back and said, “I understand, Delph. It’s the right choice. It’s … family.”

I wish I had some left.

I headed to the door.

“Good luck in the Duelum, Vega Jane.”

I turned to see him staring at me.

“I hope you win it all,” he added.

“Thanks,” I said. I left him there with his father. As I walked out into the warmth of the light, I had never felt such cold in my heart.

MY NEXT STOP was the Council building. I trotted up the steps, passing several Council members who were heading down them. I ignored their surprised looks at traitorous me and opened one of the massive doors that were carved with eagles and lions and what looked to be a slain garm.

This was the first time I had come in the front entrance. My only other visit here had been through the back, in shackles.

I walked in to see a great chamber with soaring ceilings, lighted torches and a temperature that felt about as perfect as was possible. Council members and their staff, more humbly dressed Wugs, most males but some females, were walking to and fro. I had always wondered why such a small place like Wormwood even required a council and along with it a building of such size and opulence. Yet like most of my queries, that one too had remained unanswered.

I walked up to a marble-topped counter where a short, prim-looking female stood dressed in a gray tunic, her white hair pulled so tightly into a bun that her eyes were catlike. She turned her nose up at me and said in an officious voice, “Can I help you?”

“I hope so,” I said. “Is Thansius here?”

Her nose turned even more upward so I could actually see down both nostrils.

“Thansius? You are seeking Thansius?” she said imperiously.

Her tone implied that I might as well be here for a consult with the Noc.

“Yes, I am.”

“And how are you called?” she asked in a perfunctory voice.

“I am called Vega Jane.”

There was a flicker across her face that indicated she recognized my name.

She said in a friendlier tone, “Course you are. The Duelum.” Her gaze ran over my battered features and she clucked in pity. “Oh my Steeples, your poor face. I’ve seen you around Wormwood, come to think of it. And you were so pretty too. So sad.”

A mixed compliment if ever I’d heard one. “Thanks,” I mumbled in reply. “So is Thansius in?”

She instantly looked more guarded. “And why do you need to speak with him?”

“A personal matter. As you know, my brother is a special assistant —”

Her lips formed a frown. “I know all about young John Jane, thank you very much.” She pondered my request. “Half a mo’,” she said and slipped out from behind the counter. I watched her scuttle off down the hall, twice casting backward glances at me.

I waited patiently for her return. I looked up at a painting of our founder, Alvis Alcumus, which hung over the doorway. He looked kind and scholarly, but there was a dreamy look in his eyes too, which I found interesting. His beard was so long it rested on his chest. I wondered where he had come from to found Wormwood. Through the Quag? Or did the Quag not exist back then? Or had he sprouted up from the dirt like a mushroom? Or was he the figment of some Wug’s imagination? I was beginning to think that our history was far more fiction than fact.

I wandered over to the massive paintings on the long walls that made up a side hall of the building. They were mostly scenes of warfare involving beasts and Wugs outfitted in armor. This must be the Battle of the Beasts that we had been taught at Learning. How our ancestors had defeated the creatures and driven them back into the Quag was the stuff of Wormwood legend.

As I grew closer to one of the paintings, I saw a scene depicted that was very familiar to me. It was a warrior in chain mail on a slep, carrying a golden spear and leaping over something. I observed the silver glove that the warrior wore on the right hand. I examined the spear and saw that it was identical to the one that was, right this instant — albeit in reduced form — residing in my pocket. The warrior was undoubtedly the female who had expired on the battlefield, but not before bequeathing to me the Elemental.

Yet the thing she was leaping over was a small rock. Such an obstacle would not require a leap at all. And the beast she was after was a frek. There had been no freks on the battlefield that light. She had thrown her spear, destroyed a charging male on a flying steed, leapt over me and soared into the air when her slep sprouted wings, in order to do battle in the sky with another figure on a giant adar. I knew I had seen all this. I could never forget it.

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.