The Finisher

“Early for Stacks o’course.

” “I’m going to eat my first meal at my tree, then Stacks.

That’s my routine.

” “Naught ru’teen n’more,” said Ran Digby, who followed this nearly unintelligible pronouncement with a great wad of smoke weed spit that hit within an inch of my boots.

“Outliers,” added Cletus Loon, looking self-important.

“Rii-ight,” I said in a drawn-out syllable. “But I still have to eat and, at least until Domitar tells me differently, I still have to go to work at Stacks.

” Roman scratched his cheek and said, “Nae up to Domitar.

Not anymore.

” 131 “Okay, who, then? Tell me!” I demanded, staring at each of them in turn. Cletus wilted under my confrontational gaze.

Digby didn’t seem to understand my question, so he merely spit again, and I watched in silent amusement as he misfired and the yuck slipped down his beard. My amusement turned to disgust when he made no move to wipe it off.

Roman said, “Council’s who.

” “Okay, has Council acted yet? Is Stacks closed?” Now Roman looked like a Wug who had overplayed his hand. When he said nothing, I decided to go on the offen- sive.

“What are you doing out here with mortas?” “Patrol. Like was said at Steeples last light,” replied Roman.

“I thought that would be for lesser Wugs than you, Roman.

” “If you must know, female, I’m chief of the newly estab- lished Wormwood Constabulary. A powerful, high position worthy of a Wug like me. Thansius created it last night and appointed me to head it special.

” He indicated the others.

“And these are my duly appointed Carbineers.

” “Well, Thansius might have picked you because you have more mortas than anyone else.

” Then I looked at Cletus. “Do you even know how to use one?” Before Cletus could say anything, Roman replied, “If you’re going to Stacks, best get on. But after this light and night, every Wug must show proper parchment to the patrols.

” “What kind of parchment?” “Allowing them to go where they’re going,” said Cletus viciously.

132 “Why?” I asked.

Roman said, “Council orders, female. Way i’tis.

” Digby spat to confirm this.

“And where do you get this proper parchment?” I asked.

“Aye, ain’t there’ a brainer?” said Digby with another dol- lop of smoke weed going splat on the ground.

I drew a deep breath, trying to will my mouth from say- ing something that might cause a morta to go off in the general vicinity of my head. “What difference will parchment make to a bunch of Outliers?” I asked.

“You ask too many questions,” snapped Cletus.

I kept my gaze on Roman. “That’s because I get too few answers.

” I turned and continued on my way. With all those mortas behind me, I really wanted to take off running before they could fire and later say it was a tragic mistake.

I could hear Roman’s excuse now: “She made a sudden move.

Don’t know why. Morta went off. She might have grabbed at it, scared-like, being female and al . ” And the great git Digby would have probably added, “And what be fer me sup this night? Har.

” Splat! Later, as I finally headed to Stacks, someone was waiting for me on the path. Delph looked like he had not eaten or slept for many lights and nights. His huge body was slumped, his gaze on his brogans, his long hair hanging limp.

“Delph?” I said cautiously.

“Wo-wo-wotcha, Vega Jane.

” Somewhat relieved by him using his typical greeting, I asked, “Are you okay?” He first nodded and then shook his head.

133 I drew closer to him. In many ways, Delph was my younger brother too, though he was older in sessions. But innocence and na?veté had a way of upsetting chronologi- cal order. He looked lost and afraid, and my heart went out to him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Steeples.

” “The meeting?” He nodded. “There’s a plan, Delph. You heard Thansius.

” “Heard Th-Th-Tha-Thans — . Oh, bollocks,” he mum- bled, giving up on the name. “Him.

” I patted his thick shoulder. “You’ll be a great help with the Wall, Delph. You could probably build it all by yourself.

” His next words cast away my lightheartedness and riv- eted my attention. “Virgil’s Event.

” “What about it?” “Like I s-s-said, se-seen it, Vega Jane.

” “What exactly did you see?” I demanded.

He tapped his head. “Hard to say, all jar-jar-jargoled,” he finally managed with enormous effort, and nearly choking in the process.

“Can you remember anything? Anything at all? Some- thing he said?” Delph pulled on his cheek, mulling over this query.

“Re-red li-light,” he said.

“What light? Where did it come from? What did it mean?” My mouth wouldn’t stop asking questions. It was as if I were firing mortas loaded with words.

Under this verbal assault, Delph turned and walked fast away from me.

134 “Delph,” I cried out. “Please, wait.

” And then it happened. I didn’t intend it to, but it just did.

I leapt twenty yards in the air, clear over Delph, and landed five yards in front of him, my hands on my hips and my gaze squarely on him. It was only when I saw the terrified look in his eyes that I realized what I had done. Before I could say anything, Delph turned and ran.

“Oi! Delph, wait!” But I didn’t go after him. He was scared and he had good reason. Wugmorts, as a generally absolute rule, do not fly. I stood there among the shadow of the trees, my breath com- ing fast and my heart pumping right with my jangled breaths.

Would Delph tell anyone what he had just witnessed? If he did, would anyone believe him? Of course not, this was Delph.

No one took him seriously. I mentally chastised myself. I took Delph seriously and I didn’t want anyone to make fun of him for simply telling the truth.

Delph had come here to tell me about the Event. I couldn’t imagine the courage it had taken for him to do that.

And I had chased him away with my incessant questions and my ill-timed leap.

“You git, Vega,” I said ruefully. “You’ve ruined every- thing.

” two nights later, John and I were eating our meal at the Loons. I glanced up and down the table, sizing up the mood.

It wasn’t that hard to do. I would classify it as somewhere between terrified and quietly resigned to being doomed.

Selene Jones was one of the happier ones of us, actually.

I had heard that this was due to the recent brisk sales at the 135 Noc Shop. Apparently, Wugs of all ages were now interested in learning their future from Noc-gazing. I believed what they wanted was to be told that the Outliers would not come and eat them.

Ted Racksport also seemed pleased and for a very basic reason. Morta sales had gone quite through the ceiling. His workers were laboring all light and night to fill the avalanche of orders. I supposed that quite a few of the weapons would be going to arm the patrols.

And that brought me to Cletus Loon, who sat gazing at me with ill-concealed contempt. He had cleaned up some- what and was wearing what looked like a rude uniform complete with a cap of blue. I knew he was trying to think of something to say to me that he thought might qualify as clever. And I was also fairly certain he would be unable to manage it.


“Scared you, didn’t we, that light? In the woods? Thought you might start crying like a very young.

” Cletus snickered and gave his father a sideways glance to see his reaction.

However, Cacus Loon was busily stuffing a whole quail into his mouth and apparently had not heard his son.

Racksport put down his mug, which I strongly suspected held flame water, wiped his mouth and said, “Used your morta yet, Clete?” “Only on these quail for sup,” said Cletus.

I was surprised by this and also a little worried. Cletus was apparently a better shot than I had thought he would be.

Racksport snorted. “Don’t be wasting your morta on that.

You can spit on them things and knock ’em out of the sky.

Morta is overkill.

” He held up his portion of quail. “See, your 136 morta metal ripped out the heart. Here’s a wee bit of it here on me fork.

” I looked down at the tiny bit of quail meat on my plate, thought about the even smaller heart that had recently been soaring along free and happy in the sky, and I suddenly lost my appetite. I looked next to me to find John having the same reaction.

Racksport looked at us, realized our dilemma and started to laugh so hard he choked. I did not rush to help him start breathing again. He ended up going outside and gagging for a while. In the meantime, I led John up to our room.

I glanced at him as he sat on his cot and opened one of Morrigone’s books.

“Good reading, John?” I asked.

He nodded absently and bent lower to the page.

Rain had started coming down so hard I felt wet even though I was inside. I lay back on my cot, turned to the side and stared at John, who was wholly devouring the book he held. His eyes were flying across the page and then he would turn it and greedily search for more knowledge in the printed letters. That was the last image I had before I fell asleep on this wild and stormy night in Wormwood. I did not wake until John touched my shoulder at first light.

And the next lights would bring change I never could have anticipated.

137 S E D E C I M The Taking of John John soon finished reading all the books that Morrigone had lent him. He piled them under his cot, and then the most astonishing thing happened. More books appeared. John had to stack them against the wall next to his cot, rising higher than I was tall.

“Morrigone,” he said simply when I asked him where the additional books had come from. We were up in our room after last meal.

“Morrigone?” I parroted back.

“She sent them to me by Bogle and the carriage.

” “How did she know which ones to send?” “I told her it didn’t matter. I just wanted to read.

” “You told her?” He nodded. “She came to Learning two lights ago, to talk to the youngs about the Outliers and the Wall.

” “Why didn’t you tell me before?” I demanded.

“Morrigone didn’t want us to gossip. She just told us about the dangers and what was expected of us in helping to protect Wormwood from the Outliers.

” “How did the youngs react?” I asked.

“They were scared, but they understood the part they had to play.

” “Which is?” I was feeling more and more left out by the sliver.

“To do what Council expects us to do.

” “Okay, what does Morrigone want you to do? Come up with more brilliant ideas for the Wall?” “She just wants me to read, for now. And go to her home,” John added quietly.

I gaped at him. “Go to her home? When?” “Next light.

” “When were you going to tell me?” “I’ll soon be twelve sessions and leaving Learning any- way. Morrigone said she was going to talk to you about it.

” “Well, she hasn’t.

” Right then I heard the creak of the wheels. I raced to the window that looked out on the cobblestones. Morrigone was already getting out of the blue carriage as the beautiful sleps came to a full stop and tossed their noble heads. I heard chairs scraping the floor, hurried footsteps, the front door opening.

I knew what was going to happen next and I decided it should occur on my own terms.

Cletus Loon was rushing up the narrow, rickety stairs as I was coming down them.

Breathless, he said, “Morrigone is —” “I know,” I said as I pushed past him.

Morrigone stood in the front room, with Ted Racksport and Selene Jones hovering over near one wall. Selene had her head bowed as though she were in the presence of greatness.

Racksport looked suitably awed, but I also saw a glint in his eye as he ran his gaze up and down Morrigone’s queenly figure.

139 Morrigone turned her attention to him. “Mr. Racksport, I understand that your workers are laboring very hard to fill the morta orders Council has given.

” He smiled, sidled closer to her and tipped his grungy bowler hat that he never bothered to take off at meals.

“Doing my best, ’tis true, Madame Morrigone. Now, if Coun- cil wants to pay a wee bit more, I could ask me blokes to work even harder, I could indeed. Just a matter of a few more coins is all. Council would never miss it. Seeing as how they were going to pay two thousand of them just to catch Herms. Eh?” Morrigone’s pleasant expression turned to flint. She stretched upward to her full height. “I think, Mr. Racksport, that instead Council will decrease the amount of coins it is paying you, and at the same time, we will expect your production to increase nonetheless. If there are bonuses to be paid afterward, I will recommend to Council that they be paid directly to your workers.

” The smile on Racksport’s face evaporated. “Beggin’ . . .

p-pardon,” he stammered. “Did I miss a bitta somethin’?” “You may have, but I can assure you that I have missed nothing about you at all. Attempting to profit off dangers faced by us all is repugnant. I’m sure it will be so to Thansius when I inform him of your disgusting and even traitorous offer.

” Racksport’s nine thick fingers clutched his seedy bowler as he whined, “I spoke out of turn, Madame Morrigone, truly I did. O’course we will take less coin for more work. Thansius, I’m sure, is busy. We need not trouble him with this bizness, need we?” 140 “What I need trouble Thansius with is no concern of yours. Thank you, Mr. Racksport, I must now move on to more pressing matters.

” As she turned to me, I realized with a start that I consti- tuted the “more pressing matters.

” The look in Morrigone’s eye was now all business.

“Vega,” she said briskly. “I require a word about John.

” She walked back outside and I quickly followed.

Bogle was up in the driver’s box of the carriage, but Morrigone continued past him and motioned for me to follow. We walked down the mostly deserted High Street.

“I trust you have been given your proper parchment to move about Wormwood?” I nodded and pulled the sheaf from my cloak. It had so many official signatures and seals on it that even if it weren’t important, the papers certainly looked it. “Domitar handed these out to all Stackers the other light. I am right glad to have it, with the likes of Roman Picus and his Carbineer lot patrolling and asking stupid questions of Wugs they know fully well.

” “They are merely doing their job, Vega.

” “That may be. But mortas in the hands of Ran Digby and Cletus Loon is a recipe for a cock-up of grand scale.


” She looked at me curiously. “You may be right about that.

I’ll speak to Council about the proper hiring, training and deployment of authorized Carbineers.

” She stopped and added, “But now we need to speak about John.

” “All right,” I said, my chest tightening.

“At times of crisis like this, we must take advantage of everyone’s special gifts.

” 141 “And what is John’s special gift?” She looked at me in surprise. “His intellect, Vega. I thought it obvious. You heard the ideas he came up with for the Wall.

” “So what about John?” “Thansius and I want him to come and live with me.

” I stopped walking. It felt like the blood had ceased mov- ing inside me.

“Come and live with you?” I said slowly. I looked back at the Loons, and my heart soared. Trading that pit for Morrigone’s home was a dream that I had never even dreamt.

It was luxurious with plenty of food to eat, towers of books to read and proper fires and hot water in pipes that one did not have to go outside to enjoy. And then there was Morrigone to show us how to be more clean and proper and smart and just . . . better than we currently were.

“Your brother has a great many special talents, Vega, tal- ents that need to be cultivated for the good of all Wormwood.

That was why I sent him the books. That was why I invited the both of you to my home for a meal. I wanted to observe John for myself.

” “When will the move take place?” I said, not really believ- ing our good fortune.

“John can come at first light. I will send Bogle for him.

” I was so excited, seeing all the possibilities of such an arrangement, that I did not quite comprehend her emphasis on the name John and word him for a sliver . The smile slowly slid off my face. “So only John will be coming to live with you?” I said, as my high spirits crashed back down like my first flight on Destin.

142 “I will take especially good care of him. I will teach him many things. He will truly blossom under my tutelage, I can assure you, Vega. He will rise to great heights.

” I so wanted to say, “What about me? Can I not blossom? Can I not rise to great heights with your fine tutelage?” But I could read the answer in her eyes and I suddenly did not want to give Morrigone the satisfaction of seeing even more evidence of my misinterpretation of her offer.

“My brother has never been away from me. That may not be good for him.

” “I can assure you that it will be very good for him. For one thing, he can stop living in that slop house that Roman Picus calls lodging. And the Loons are not exactly the ideal role models in Wugmorts, are they?” “I am a good role model for my brother,” I cried.

“Yes, of course you are, Vega. And you can come and visit him.

” “Have you told John that I won’t be going?” I asked dumbly. I hoped that she said no, because John had not seemed overly disturbed about the move. Perhaps he assumed I would be joining him.

“Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first.

” That was actually nice of her, though it wasn’t like she had asked my permission for John to go. But at least I had my answer. John didn’t know.

She gave me a benign smile and added, “May I tell John I have your good wishes for this arrangement?” I nodded, my mind largely blank and the lump in my throat and the ache in my chest so profound that I thought this must be what an Event felt like.

143 “Thank you, Vega. And Wormwood thanks you too.

” She turned and walked back to the Loons, which was apparently too awful for John to live at but perfectly fine for me to while away my sessions.

I watched her tall form glide back to where John was with his books. A chill so deep that I felt I had been dropped into the most frigid of water settled into my skin when I real- ized fully that I had just lost my brother.

144 S E P T E N D E C I M Harry Two The work on the Wall had commenced in earnest.

Whole forests of trees had been felled. Involved in this process were long saws and axes and cretas and sleps and backbreaking Wug work. All able-bodied males were recruited to do these tasks, while other less physically fit Wugmorts and some females started digging out the foundation on the ground where the Wall would be erected and also the deep moats on either side. The Council had wholeheartedly embraced my brother’s idea of a double-layered defense.

I continued to work at Stacks, but I stopped finishing pretty things. I was helping to build metal straps that would hold the logs and placement posts together once they were laid into place as part of the Wall.

Delph worked harder than anyone, his great muscles pulling and pushing and his lungs near to bursting as he dragged or carried heavy objects where they needed to go. I watched him do this when I was helping with the logs. We did not speak. Neither of us had the breath.

His father, Duf, led teams of sleps in bringing the felled trees from the forest to the Wall. His trained cretas were employed to pull on the stout ropes attached to strong pulleys that lifted the logs into place, their huge chests and muscled withers straining with the immense effort. I eyed the elabo- rate pulley systems and figured it might be one of John’s creations. I had also glimpsed the setting up of what looked to be a complicated digging machine that I assumed John had invented as well.

The youngs brought food and water to the workers and did some of the tasks that required nimble fingers instead of muscled arms. The females kept the stoves burning and the meals coming for the hungry Wugs. All of us were driven to work hard by the idea that Outliers of incomprehensible evil might turn up any sliver and devour the entire village. And every seventh light we would go to Steeples because it was now required. Ezekiel warned us in a booming voice filled with fiery brimstone that to not complete the Wall in the shortest possible time would spell our absolute doom, and the bones of our youngs would reside in the bellies of the evil Outliers.

I’m sure that provided much-needed pious comfort and solace for many a Wug’s frazzled nerves. I had never been at war, but I could sense that that’s what Wormwood was becom- ing: a place waiting to be struck by the enemy. It gave me a better understanding of my ancestors who had lived during the Battle of the Beasts.

I set about my work with great zeal. Perhaps it was to show Morrigone that John was not the only capable member of the Jane family. Maybe it was to demonstrate to myself that I had some worth to Wormwood.

I rose before first light most times and was on my way to my tree with my tin of food slivers after eating a morsel or two at the Loons. I suppose as some sort of token of gratitude 146 for John going to live with Morrigone, the Loons had been instructed by Morrigone to increase my ration portions, including a first meal.

“More food for the likes-a you and why’s that, I ask,” Cletus Loon had barked at me one night as I was heading up to my cot. “We males are out there killing ourselves felling them trees. And you’re at Stacks probably skiving off most of the time. ’Tain’t fair. Wugs are brassed off, I can tell you that.

” “I don’t skip work at Stacks. Do you really think Domitar would allow that?” I added with a malicious smile, “And I thought you were patrolling with your morta, shooting little, tiny quail before they can swoop down and get you.

” “I work the trees at light and they expect me to patrol at night,” he snapped.


“Well, it’s good to keep busy,” I told him and then headed up the stairs.

I didn’t care about the fairness of the extra ration. I had been hungry for most of my sessions. I was not going to feel bad for a couple more mouthfuls of something in my belly.

twenty lights after John had gone to live with Morrigone, I arrived very early at my tree. Our parting had been sad for both of us. John clearly had mixed feelings. What Wug wouldn’t want to live like Morrigone? Plenty to eat, a comfy, clean place in which to live, books that he could read until his eyes and brain could take in no more. And to have a mentor like Morrigone? Yet I knew that John did not want to leave me. It wasn’t just the tears he spilled and the soft cries he let escape as Morrigone escorted him out to the carriage. It was the look 147 on his face that spoke loudest to me. My brother loved me and I loved him and that was really all there was to it. But go he did. He had no choice.

On my first visit to John, he hadn’t changed all that much. Well, he was scrubbed clean and his clothes were new and his body looked a bit more filled out. He had been both sad that we had parted and thrilled with the potential of his new life. John confirmed that the pulley and digging machine were of his invention. I marveled at how quickly he had been able to do such a thing. He had shyly accepted my praise, which made me even prouder of him. As I was leav- ing, he gave me a crushing hug. I finally had to gently pry myself free.

At my second visit seven lights later, a definite change had taken place. John was far less sad; his excitement about his new life and his important work for Wormwood was now paramount. He wore his new clothes easily and didn’t seem the least bit awed by his luxurious surroundings. Morrigone fed me, but she didn’t leave me and John alone this time.

When I took my leave, John gave me a brief hug and then bounded up the stairs to his room to, as he said, “Finish up some important work on the Wall.

” As Morrigone opened the front door for me, she said, “He is thriving. I hope you can see that.

” “I can,” I had said.

“Be happy for him, Vega.

” “I am happy for him,” I had replied truthfully.

She looked me over and then held out a handful of coins.

“Please take these.

” “Why? I have done nothing to earn them.

” 148 “As a means of thanking you for allowing John to come and live with me.

” I had looked at the small pile of coins. Part of me wanted to snatch them out of her hand. “No thanks,” I had said, and then turned and walked back to the Loons.

I now looked down from my high perch in my tree. It was still dark technically, although the last section of night always held edges of light creeping in. I gazed around. I had not seen any patrols on my way here and I strongly suspected that many Wugs were unable to carry out both hauling trees during light and acting as Carbineers at night. They simply wouldn’t have the energy.

Thus, I felt it was as good a time as any. I backed up to the very end of my boards, took off running and leapt into the sky. The air enveloped me as I soared upward. I flew straight for a few yards and then I did a barrel roll, not once but three times, making myself a bit dizzy in the process.

Still, it felt wonderful. So free, unlike down on the ground where virtually every sliver of my time was dictated by others.

I had gotten to the point where I could look down while flying without going into a dive and crashing. It was as though Destin and I had reached an understanding. Maybe it could read minds, or at least my mind.

I landed smoothly and stood there for a sliver or two, breathing in the cool night air. It was hard for me to be with- out John. I had looked forward to waking him up. I enjoyed walking him to Learning, and then bringing him food when I picked him up after Stacks. Though it was not pleasant for either of us, the time we spent at the Care with our parents 149 had been a significant part of our lives. But that part of my life was over and I could sense it would never return.

I heard it before I saw anything. Four legs, moving rap- idly. But I was not afraid, not this time. I had Destin, so I could take to the sky in an instant. I was also unafraid for another reason. The footfalls were not those of a garm, a frek or an amaroc. They were light, barely making an impression on the ground. I stood there waiting.

It came around one tree, slowed and then stopped. Its haunches went up and its long nose came down close to the dirt. I took a few halting steps forward, hardly able to believe my eyes. It rose up and then sat back on its tail.

“Harry?” I said.

But of course it was not Harry. Many sessions ago, I’d had a canine I had instantly loved. I called him Harry because he was hairy. He was not too big and not too small, with beautifully soft dark eyes topped by long eyelashes, and a mingling of brown, white and rust fur. He walked into my life one light and instantly loved me with all his heart. He trusted me. And I missed him terribly.

I was also the reason Harry was dead. I had walked too close to the edge of the Quag with him, and a garm had come after me. Harry had gotten in between us, and the garm had killed him as Harry defended me and gave me time to escape.

I will never forget the image of my dead Harry in that foul creature’s jaws as it carried my beloved canine into the Quag to devour. Even now, as I recalled this terrible memory, tears filled my eyes. When Harry had left me that light, I had screamed and screamed and cried more tears than I could have thought possible. It had been my job to take care of 150 Harry and I had let him down, costing my canine his life. I would never forgive myself for it. I would have done anything to bring Harry back, though I knew that was not possible.

Death was irreversible.

Yet this canine, I swear, could have been Harry’s twin. I took a few more steps forward and it rose up on all fours, its tail sweeping back and forth and its tongue hanging out of its snout.

“Harry?” I said again because I could not help myself.

The canine came forward hesitantly and then it broke into a run before skidding to a halt inches from me. Light was just breaking as the sun began its rise and the Noc retreated to wherever it went in the sky when its far bigger sibling woke. And in that first wash of illumintation I took this canine fully in.

I touched its head. The fur was soft. It slipped between my fingers like the sort of exceptional cloth I had used in Morrigone’s loo. It was warm and its eyes were mismatched, right blue, left green. Harry had had the same, but their order had been reversed. I had always loved the confluence of those two colors on his face, and I loved their looking-glass twins on this canine’s.

I knelt next to it and took one of its front paws. It allowed me to do so with a hint of mild curiosity on its face. The paws were large and promised that the little canine would one light be large. Harry had grown to over seventy pounds, still far smaller than the hideous garm that had claimed his life.

Then I noted that its coat was dirty and I could see its ribs through the fur. It also had a cut on its left front leg that needed some sorting out. I scratched its ears and thought 151 about what to do. I knew that Loon was not keen on beasts at the digs. At the very least, he would demand more coin, which I did not have. Harry had been killed a short time before my parents had been taken to the Care, thus I had never needed to face such a choice. It seemed that I was out of options. I would have to let him carry on without me. And it was a male, as certain parts of it I could see confirmed.


I rose and started to walk away. But he followed me. I picked up my pace, and so did he. On sudden impulse I took off running and soared into the air. I thought that would be the end of it. But when I looked down, he was right there, running hard and keeping up with me somehow. I swooped lower and landed and he skidded to a stop at my feet, panting and his tongue hanging out. His blue and green eyes were fully on my face. He seemed to be wondering why I had just done what I had.

I opened the tin in my tuck and held out a knob of bread for him. As hungry as he no doubt was, I expected him to snatch it from between my fingers. But he slowly lifted his snout, sniffed at it and then gently eased it from my hand before devouring it.

I sat next to him and pulled out the bit of meat, a slice of hard cheese and the one egg that, along with the bread, was supposed to constitute my first meal. I laid them on the ground. Again, he sniffed at them before gobbling them up.

His breaths lengthened and then he rolled over so I could scratch his belly, which I did.

When he turned back over, he nudged my hand onto the top of his head. Harry used to do that too. But maybe all canines do. Harry was the only one I ever had. I stumbled 152 onto him in much the same way as this, walking in the woods and seeing him darting between the trees, chasing a rabbit.

He didn’t catch the rabbit, but he did capture my heart when there weren’t many things in Wormwood that possibly could.

I pondered what to do.

“I can call you Harry Two,” I said. His ears peaked and he cocked his snout at me. Adars can understand Wugmorts, but I knew that canines really could not. Still, Harry Two seemed to know that I had just bequeathed him a name.

I looked to the sky. First light was here. Soon, second light would be toddling along and it would be time for me to go to Stacks. I rubbed Harry Two’s ears, letting my fingers slide up and down each one. Harry had liked that and I figured this one would too. He did, licking my hand in appreciation.

I came up with a plan. On the way to Stacks, I threw sticks for Harry Two to chase. And he brought them back each time. I scratched his ears and when we reached Stacks, I paused, bent down, pointed to Stacks and told him to wait.

He immediately sat down. I put down a small tin cup pulled from my tuck and poured some water into it from the cork-stoppered pewter bottle I carried. There was a tree above to provide shade. I figured if he were still out here when I finished work, I would worry what to do about him.

Domitar watched me walk into Stacks. He was now per- petually drunk on flame water every light. It was a wonder to me that the Wug could even stand. I think he wanted to say something to me, but apparently the dexterity of his tongue failed him, because he remained silent and simply tot- tered off.

153 After I put on my work clothes, I walked out to the main floor and approached my workstation. I eyed the stairs up.

Ladon-Tosh was no longer guarding them. He was probably felling trees along with all the other hardy Wugs. I was one of the few Wugs left at Stacks. All but three of the Dactyls were gone, using their muscle to bring down the great trees and strip them of their bark. The ones who were left had to do the work of many Dactyls to whack and gong metal into the requisite shapes and thickness for straps. There were a few Mixers left who were using all of their energy to ready the metal for the Dactyls. From the Dactyls the still-hot metal moved to the Cutters, who made the strips into the necessary lengths and widths. And then it was left to me to finish them.

There seemed to be an infinite number of straps required for the Wall. That was testament enough to the enormity of the project.

During my meal break, I looked down at my right hand.

Along with the scars was the ink stamp of Dis Fidus. That protocol had not been dispensed with even with the urgency of the Wall. I wondered why, but I had many things to wonder about and in my rough pecking order, the ink stamp main- tained a lowly place.

I had two slivers left of my mealtime, so I went outside and was heartened to see Harry Two still lying in the grass where I had left him. I went to him and petted him.

“No beasts in Stacks,” barked a voice.

I turned to see Domitar behind me. His face was flushed and his speech a little jargoled. I thought it a trifle ironic that he would not allow a canine in Stacks when jabbits were per-mitted to run freely.

154 “He’s not in Stacks, is he?” I countered.

Domitar drew closer. “Is he your canine?” “Perhaps. We’ll see.

” Domitar came to stand next to me. I moved away a few paces because the stink of flame water was so strong.

“I had a pet once,” said Domitar. I was stunned when he squatted down next to Harry Two and rubbed his ears.

“You had a pet, Domitar?” I wondered if it was a jabbit.

He looked embarrassed. “When I was a very young of course. It was also a canine.

” “What did you call him?” He hesitated, perhaps afraid that I might consider him soft by naming a beast.

“Julius,” he finally answered.

“Your given name?” I said.

“Yes. You think that’s peculiar, do you?” “No. You can name a canine whatever you want.

” “What is yours called?” “Harry Two.

” “Why Two?” “I had a canine named Harry when I lived with my par- ents, but a garm killed him.

” Domitar looked down. “I am sorry for that.

” And he indeed did look truly sad.

“And Julius?” “He died when I was still a very young.

” “How?” “It doesn’t matter, does it? Not much matters anymore, not really.

” When I looked down into his face, I was surprised to 155 see his eyes gazing out listlessly over the terrain in front of Stacks. He didn’t seem a bit squiffy from flame water right now. He was a Wugmort who seemed totally lost, when I would expect Domitar to be as secure in his future as any Wug could be.

“Times are changing and Wugmorts must change with them, Vega,” he said in what sounded more like a general pro- nouncement than specific advice. “But we must carry on here.

No budge jobs ever at Stacks. Quality work through and through. ‘Buck up right and proper’ is our motto so long as I’m in charge here.

” He hiccupped, covered his mouth and looked embarrassed.

I looked over my shoulder at the entrance to Stacks, my curiosity, always close to the surface, compelling me to ask a question. “Domitar, what did this place used to be?” He didn’t look at me, although I saw his body stiffen with the query.

“It has always been Stacks,” he said.

“Always?” I said skeptically.

“Well, since I have been alive.

” “But you haven’t been alive as long as this place has been here, Domitar. I bet it’s hundreds of sessions old, maybe more.

” “Then what good would an answer to your query be?” he replied.

The words seemed harsh, though truthfully his tone was one of resignation.

“Do you think the Wall will hold the Outliers back?” Now he glanced up at me. “I am certain it will.

” 156 The way he said it troubled me greatly. Not because I didn’t think he believed his own words. It’s because I could tell he absolutely believed them to be true.

“Mealtime is over,” he said, his normally harsh tone back in full force.

I headed back to Stacks. But when I turned around, I saw Domitar was still squatting next to Harry Two and petting him. I saw him pull out a piece of bread and cheese and feed it to my canine. I even thought I saw Domitar smile.


Times indeed were changing in Wormwood.

157 D U O D E V I G I N T I Home Again When i arriVed at the Loons with Harry Two, Cacus Loon met me at the door. He took one look at my canine, and his response was as coarse as it was predictable.

“That ugly, foul beast is nae comin’ in these proper digs,” he cried out in a voice made hoarse by his smoke weed habit.

I looked down at Harry Two, who was by far the most handsome creature of the three of us, his face far cleaner than Loon’s, his coat far more reputable than mine.

I said, “He’s a canine and they are acceptable inside Wug homes. I’ll take care of him, and his food, water and clean- liness will be my responsibility.

” “There ain’t a chance in Hel of that beast staying in me home.

” “It’s not your home. It belongs to Roman Picus.

” I knew this would provide me no help, but Loon made me mad just by breathing.

He swelled up his chest. “Oh, so you think Roman Picus will allow that disreputable thing inside his digs, do you? Well, you clearly don’t know the Wug as I do.

” “I can talk to Morrigone about it,” I ventured.

“You can waggle to any Wug you want, and the bloody answer will be the same.

” He slammed the door in my face. I looked down at Harry Two, who gazed up at me with complete adoration, unaf- fected by Loon’s brutish tirade. I stood there thinking for a few slivers and then decided that perhaps a silver lining had appeared unexpectedly from out of the darkness.

I went inside, marched up the stairs to my kip, collected my few belongings, and stamped back downstairs. Loon looked at me dumbfounded, while a puzzled Hestia gazed at me from the kitchen doorway, wiping her coarsened hands on her dirty apron.

“Where you be going?” Loon asked when he saw the bundle representing all my posessions slung over my shoulder.

“If my canine isn’t welcome here, I have to find other lodgings.

” “ ’Tain’t none,” he barked. “Full up other digs, they are.

Every Wug knows that. Stupid prat!” “I know of a place,” I shot back.

“Not on the High Street, not a kip to be found.

” “On the Low Road there is,” I countered.

Loon gazed at me darkly. “Are you meaning what I think you’re meaning?” Hestia meekly came forward. “Vega, you can’t go back there. You’re too young to live on your own. You’re not yet fifteen sessions. That’s the law.

” “Well, I’m not giving up my canine, so I don’t really have a choice,” I said. “And I’ll be fifteen sessions soon enough.

” I 159 aimed a warm smile solely at her. She was totally under her male’s rule, but she had always treated John and me decently.

“I thank you for your hospitality over these last sessions.

” Loon spat on the floor and Hestia turned and went back into the kitchen.

He said, “We’ll see what Council says about this.

” I stared him down. “Yes, we will.

” I walked out and Harry Two obediently followed me down the cobblestones. Wugs here and there watched us go.

I guess with a bundle holding all my possessions over my shoulder and a young canine playfully nipping at my heels, I made an unusual sight.

I reached the Low Road and we turned down it. It was so named because it was apt to flood when the hard rains came and it was also old and worn down. Its few shops were not as well perused and what they sold was inferior to what one could purchase on the High Street.

The plain wood-fronted home was tiny, nondescript and weathered, but to me it would always be beautiful and warm and inviting. I knew it well. I used to live here with my mother and father and John. We only left and moved to the Loons when our parents were taken to the Care.

I stopped and looked at the small front window. There was a crack from when John was a baby and threw his cup of milk against it. Glass was hard to come by in Wormwood, so we had never fixed it. I moved closer and looked through the window. Now I could see the table where I ate with my fam- ily. It was scuffed and covered in cobwebs. In a far corner was a chair I used to sit in. In another corner was a stack of family belongings that we never took with us because we had no 160 room for them. Against another wall was a cot. The cot I used to sleep in.

I tried the door. It was locked. I took out my pieces of slender metal, and the lock was quickly sorted out. I opened the door and Harry Two and I went inside. I was immediately cold, colder than I had been outside. This surprised me, but only for an instant.

It was said that the spirits one leaves behind are always cold, because they are alone, with nothing to warm them. We had left much behind here. Here, we were a family. Here, we had something together that we would never have apart.

That we would never have again, in fact.

I shivered and pulled my cloak closer around me as I walked the space. I squatted down and picked up some things in the pile while Harry Two sniffed around his new home. In the stack were odd bits of clothes that would no longer fit my shrunken mother and father. They wouldn’t fit me for that matter, for I had grown much in the last two sessions. I passed over the clothes and turned to some drawings that I had done as a young. There was a drawing I did of my brother.

Then I saw the self-portrait I had sketched. I could see my breath in the air as I looked down at the picture. I was maybe eight sessions old, which meant my grandfather had been gone for half my life at that point. I did not look happy.