The Finisher

by David Baldacci

  I slid my trousers down.

  “Vega Jane!” he exclaimed, looking away, his face as red as a raspberry.

  I ignored this and lifted up my tattered shirt and my shirtsleeves, exposing my belly and my arms. “Look, Delph. Look.”

  “Cor blimey, Vega Jane,” he said, his voice shaky. “You gone mental or what?”

  “It’s not what you think, Delph. I’ve got my under thingies on. Look!”

  He slowly turned his head back. His gaze ran up along my legs to my belly and up my arms. His jaw fell. “What in Noc’s name is that, I ask ya?”

  “It’s the map through the Quag. Quentin Herms left it for me. He had it on parchment. But I was afraid to keep it, so I inked it on my skin.”

  He drew closer. “The way through?”

  “And I’ve memorized all of it, Delph. But you need to as well.”

  “I wouldnae b-b-be staring at your … at your Wu-Wugness,” stammered Delph, turning away once more.

  I frowned. “Well, you’re going to have to, Delph. If you want to go. We both have to know the way, just in case.” I held up the Quag book. “You well know what awaits us in there.”

  For the next thirty slivers, Delph studied the marks on my skin as I walked him through the map of the Quag. I would do this for as many nights as possible until the directions were firmly entrenched in his brain. As the slivers passed, Delph’s eyes slowly closed. Soon he was snoring in his seat. I lowered my shirt and drew up my trousers, sat in my only other chair and looked through the book on the Quag.

  Harry Two whimpered a bit at my feet. I looked down and thought he might be having a bad dream. I wasn’t sure if canines could dream, though I didn’t see any particular reason why not. And anyway, Harry Two was quite a special canine.

  I slowly turned page after page in the book, taking in as much information as I could. Quentin Herms had been as meticulous in documenting the Quag as he had been making pretty things at Stacks. But the things he had documented and re-created in these pages were not to be taken lightly. On nearly every piece of parchment there was something that could kill you. Like a creature that was three huge bodies attached. And while you might be able to cleave them apart, the book warned that Woe be to the Wug who forgets that destroying one part of the thing does not equal victory.

  But there were some beneficial creatures as well, including something called a Hob that would help you so long as you gave it a small gift each light. Cheeky blighter, I thought, trading kindness for coin.

  I finally closed the book and peered into the fire. One smoldering log caught my attention. Its bark was reddened, nearly transparent because of the bite of flames. My grandfather and my parents — swallowed whole by fire.

  But it was my grandfather who had initiated the flames. He had wanted to go. Morrigone was imploring him to stay. And he had gone anyway. And now my parents had gone too. And perhaps they had done so because they wanted to leave as well.

  Which meant they had chosen to leave us. No, to leave me.

  Well, I could not burst into flames to leave Wormwood, but I could go through the Quag to do so. For now that was my overriding obsession. To leave Wormwood and find my grandfather and my parents, because they were not dead. They were simply no longer in Wormwood. Which meant they were somewhere else. Which meant there was somewhere other than Wormwood.

  Now another emotion seized me and I sat down on the cold stone floor and did something I almost never did. I started to weep. I rocked back and forth. I hurt all over. Almost like I had been swallowed by fire myself. My skin felt burned and blackened. I was gasping for breath, so hard was I crying. It was like I had saved all my sessions up to let it loose now.

  I was startled when I felt it.

  The big arms wrapped around me. I opened my eyes and there was Delph sitting next to me, holding me and weeping along with me.

  Harry Two had awoken as well. He had sidled over to us and was inching my hand up with his snout. Trying to make me look at him. Probably trying to make me feel better. But it’s hard to feel better when your entire family has left you.

  And done so by their choice.

  “’Tis okay, Vega Jane,” Delph said into my ear, his warm breath tickling my skin. “’Tis okay,” he mumbled again.

  I touched his hand to let him know I’d heard. But it would not be okay.

  Nothing again would ever be okay.

  But come what may, I was going to leave this place.

  Because I had come to learn that while Wormwood was full of many things, the truth was not one of them.

  And the truth was what I needed.

  I had nothing else left.

  WHEN I LEFT for Stacks one light, there it was. The cloth banner was strung across the High Street in Wormwood, connected by metal hooks and stout ropes into the fronts of two buildings facing the cobblestones. It read:

  GREETINGS, ALL WUGMORTS. THE NEXT DUELUM WILL BE HELD IN A FORTNIGHT AT THE PITCH. FIRST PRIZE FIVE HUNDRED COINS. ALL ELIGIBLE MALE WUGMORTS BETWEEN FIFTEEN AND TWENTY-FOUR SESSIONS OLD MUST COMPETE.

  Underneath this was a statement that a meeting would be held in the village square this night where more information would be provided, along with a directive that all Wugmorts attend.

  Duelums were twice-a-session competitions pitting strong males against one another on a broad pitch on the edge of Wormwood proper. And even though he was only sixteen sessions, Delph had won three of them, including the last.

  The coin prize was startling enough. For as long as I could remember, the only prizes one got when winning a Duelum were a metal figurine of a male Wug holding another male Wug over his head and a mere handful of coins.

  I wondered if Delph would win again. He and Duf could certainly use five hundred coins.

  I stared up at the banner for a few moments. I would have thought, with all the work on the Wall, that it would have been postponed. Male Wugs were working hard enough without having to stop and beat one another’s brains out. Yet it had little enough to do with me.

  I headed on to Stacks, arriving one sliver late, but no one said anything. I changed and went to my workstation to begin my tasks. I looked around at the few other Wugs left at Stacks. I could sense in the muttering, the stealthy looks and one Dactyl flexing his impressive muscles that they had heard of the Duelum and were sizing up the competition. I was the only female there, so none of them was looking at me.

  In the locker room later, when work was done, I changed into my regular clothes after the males had left. I lifted my shirt and looked down at my flat belly. Parts of the map had faded so badly that I had had to ink them back in several times now. And because Delph also had to memorize it, I had decided to copy the map back down on parchment. It was actually a little embarrassing having him stare at my bare stomach and legs. I could see sometimes that his attention was wandering more to the skin than the marks on it.

  As I was passing Domitar’s office, the door opened and he stepped out. This was fortuitous because I had been thinking of a question and decided that Domitar might have the answer.

  I said, “Morrigone told me that her grandfather served on Council with my grandfather. I didn’t know my grandfather was on Council.”

  “It was a volatile time in our history.”

  “Volatile. You can’t mean the Battle of the Beasts I was told about at Learning? That took place long before my grandfather was even born.”

  Domitar looked angry for his choice of words. “Let sleeping canines lie. That’s the better policy.”

  “To Hel with sleeping canines, Domitar. I want the truth.”

  He turned and went back into his office, like a rabbit into its hole. Or a rat down a drainpipe.

  Later that night, with Harry Two at my side, I trudged to the village center and joined the crowd massing there. A wooden platform had been set up with stairs made from roughhewn planks leading up to it. I was not surprised in the least to see Bogle and the carriage already there. I was also not surprised to see Than
sius and Morrigone seated on the platform. But I was flummoxed to see John sitting next to them. And he wore the black dress tunic of Council!

  Someone whispered in my ear, “’Tis John.”

  I turned to see Delph standing there.

  Indeed ’tis John, I thought. And indeed ’tis not John.

  Pretty much every Wug was here. Roman Picus and his Carbineer mates, Cletus, Non and Ran Digby, were standing at comical attention with their knives and long and short mortas. I was thankful to be downwind from Digby. The niff that bloke sent off would have me barfing. As a female, I had thought about skiving off this meeting, but I was too curious to stay away.

  The one Wug missing was Jurik Krone. I scanned the row of Council members seated in front of the platform, but he was not there. It was not like him to skip a public event where he could preen for the audience. I wondered when he would challenge Thansius for Council leadership. I also wondered what the other far more senior Council members thought about John sitting up there while they were relegated to being down with us average Wugs. Julius Domitar was there with tiny Dis Fidus hovering beside him. Ezekiel occupied a solitary corner of the square, resplendent in his white tunic. The Loons residents were clustered like chickens on the far side of the square.

  I was startled to see Ladon-Tosh, armed to the teeth, guarding the steps up to the platform. He looked as maniacal as ever. I made sure not to lock gazes with him. For some insane reason, I thought I might disappear if I did.

  All the males looked tired and dirty. All the females, while a bit cleaner by comparison, looked even more knackered. They had to work on the Wall as well, but they also had to take care of their families — cooking, cleaning and being mother Wugs. Despite all that, I sensed excitement in the crowd. And the reason was obvious. Five hundred coins. The desire for it was palpable. No one had collected the reward on Quentin Herms. But some Wug had to win the Duelum and with it the coins.

  Thansius cleared his throat and stood. He raised his hands above his head. “Greetings, fellow Wugmorts. We have asked you here this night to announce the latest Duelum. It will begin at the second section of light a fortnight hence. The reward for the champion, as you no doubt already know, will be five hundred coins.”

  Whispers and murmurs zipped through the crowd. However, my gaze held steady on my brother. He was seated next to Morrigone and the two of them seemed to be having a conversation about something. John seemed happy, content. And Morrigone, well, she appeared to be like a proud Preceptor with her prize prodigy. Then Thansius said something that made my attention snap back to him.

  “This Duelum will be different from all the others.” He paused, seeming to gather oratorical fortitude. “This Duelum will also include all females between the ages of twenty and twenty-four sessions.” And he added the stunner. “The females’ participation is mandatory as well.”

  Now the whispers went up a thousandfold. Most males were guffawing. Females were looking confused and frightened. That included myself, although I was not old enough to have to participate. I was afraid for the females who were. I shot a glance at Delph. He wasn’t laughing at the idea of females in the Duelum. I next eyed Cletus Loon. He was snickering with two of his loutish friends.

  Thansius cleared his throat and asked for silence.

  We Wugs quieted down. Of course there would have to be two champions, male and female, because there was no way they could expect females to fight males.

  Thansius cleared this up with his next comment. “There will be only one champion.” I looked up at him, stunned. He continued. “We Wugmorts have to accept the fact that there should be more equality between males and females.”

  Okay, I thought, if they wanted equality how about having more than one female at Stacks? Or telling males that they could cook and clean and tend to the very youngs just as well as females? Somehow, though, I didn’t see getting one’s brains smashed in by a far stronger male Wug as resounding evidence of a forward-thinking society.

  Thansius continued. “And now here is Morrigone to more fully explain the reasoning behind this decision.”

  I supposed the “reasoning” behind that was it took a female to explain to other females why it made sense to get your brain smashed in. I watched along with every other Wug as Morrigone rose and glided to the front of the platform. She was perfectly composed and took a sliver to look over the crowd and let them feel her presence. Well, I would be composed too if I were her. She was certainly older than twenty-four sessions and therefore would not have to pit herself against males. But then again, she might be able to win against them.

  Morrigone said, “No doubt many of you, particularly the females among us, are wondering why this decision has come about. First, let me state that all females within the age requirement who are mates with males, or mothers, or who are currently with child, or had a child within the last full session, will not have to compete.”

  A collective sigh of relief flowed through the crowd. There were a great many females who would qualify for these exceptions, I knew.

  Morrigone continued. “As well as any females with physical disabilities or other weaknesses or infirmities. This last exception of course will apply to males as well.”

  I looked around the crowd of Wugs and saw a good many females who would also qualify for this exception, along with about a dozen males. They too looked greatly relieved.

  She added, “But all others must fight. They will be pitted against the males. Some may say this is unfair. But times have changed in Wormwood. The Outliers surround us. They do not care who is male and who is female. They will attack us all. Thus the able-bodied and younger females among us must be prepared to fight. And the way to do that is to train to fight. To learn how to defend themselves. That is why a fortnight has been given for all eligible females to learn these skills. And professional fight Preceptors will be available for all, males and females, who desire to be trained up. I would recommend that all females competing in the Duelum avail themselves of this opportunity.”

  I gazed up in disbelief at her. Time to learn these skills? In a fortnight? Was she serious? When females were already killing themselves building the Wall? The males wouldn’t have to waste time training, just the poor females. They couldn’t suddenly put on ninety pounds of muscle. They couldn’t very well turn into a male. Not that they would ever want to.

  Thansius nodded at one of the Council members down below. The Wug stood and held up a cloth bag. Thansius said, “The prize of five hundred coins.”

  Wugs made a great fuss over this great bag of wealth. And then Thansius added, “In order to make things a bit more enticing” — he paused for effect — “if a female were to win the Duelum, the prize will be increased to one thousand coins.”

  There was no cheering over this from any females. They obviously could see that no female would claim it, so what was there to get excited about?

  Thansius then told us that the competition rounds would be posted soon, showing who would be competing against whom in the first round. He said that they had already calculated the number of eligible competitors, and five rounds would be necessary to declare a champion. He wished us all good luck and then told us the “meeting” was over.

  As Wugs started to slowly drift away, I made a beeline for the platform. I wanted to see John. However, before I could get there, someone blocked my way.

  Cletus Loon looked me up and down, a murderous expression on his face. “It’s a good thing you’re too young to fight. I might draw you in the first round,” he said.

  “It is a good thing I’m too young to fight,” I replied. “A good thing for you. Now get out of my way, you git.”

  I tried to brush past him, but he put a hand on my shoulder. Before I could react or a growling Harry Two could take a bite out of him, Cletus was flying backward and landing hard on the cobblestones, his morta and knife flying away.

  Before he could even attempt to get up, Delph put a huge boot on his chest and held him dow
n.

  Cletus yelled, “You take your filthy foot off me.”

  One of Cletus’s friends came up and said, “Look at Da-Da-Da-Delph.”

  Delph grabbed him by the shirt, hoisted him full off the cobblestones and held him close to his face. “The name is Daniel Delphia to you, you little prat. And next time I won’t be so polite in reminding you. Now shove off.”

  He let the Wug drop, and the git ran off as fast as he could. Then Delph removed his foot from Cletus, who was staring up with an amazed look.

  “Y-you’re not stut-stuttering,” said Cletus in a quavering voice.

  “But you are.” Delph knelt down so he and Cletus were eye to eye. “You best hope I don’t draw you first, Loon. And if you lay another hand on Vega Jane, you’ll pray for death by garm once I get ahold of you. Now clear off!”

  Cletus scrambled to his feet and raced away.

  “Thanks, Delph,” I said, my face full of the deep gratitude I was feeling.

  “You could have taken care of that git yourself, Vega Jane.”

  “Maybe. But it’s nice to have help.” Then I remembered where I was going. John was almost at the carriage. “Good luck in the Duelum, Delph,” I said. “I hope you win the five hundred coins.”

  I turned and sprinted down the cobblestones and reached John just as he was about to climb aboard after Morrigone.

  “John?”

  He turned and smiled, but the smile was … forced. I could tell that instantly.

  “Hello, Vega,” he said stiffly. But I still sensed my little brother inside. Although, maybe I just wanted it to be so.

  Morrigone leaned out the door. When she saw me, she said, “John, we must go. There is last meal and then we must work on your lessons.”

  “It’ll only take a sliver, Morrigone,” I said hurriedly.

  She nodded curtly and sat back in her seat. However, I suspected she was listening intently.

  “What is it, Vega?” asked John. He looked down at Harry Two but made no move to pet him or even ask about him. My brother’s hair was even shorter, shaved very close to his scalp. He was very nearly unrecognizable to me.