The Finisher

by David Baldacci

  I spoke the names out loud as I had every time I had visited them for two sessions. I had grown weary of doing so, though now that they were gone, I wasn’t weary anymore. I knew this would be truly the last time I would do so. But I would only be visiting an empty room.

  However, when I pushed open the unlocked door I was immediately aware of the presence of someone else huddled in the corner. The room was no longer illuminated. It was as if when my parents left, they had taken the mysterious light with them. But I could still make the shape out.

  It was John.

  JOHN DIDN’T LOOK up as I walked in. I just heard his sobs. I drew closer and looked at the empty cots before returning my gaze to him. He didn’t look remotely like the grand special assistant to Council who was running roughshod over the poor Wugs building the Wall. Even with his scalped hair and fancy clothes, he looked like a little male Wug who was totally lost.

  I went to him, wrapped my long arms around him and held him. Harry Two sat on his haunches while I did so, all the while maintaining a respectful silence. I said things to John that I had said to him pretty much every light growing up. That everything would be okay. That he would always have me. That he should not be sad, for the next light would be better.

  When I heard the door creak open about fifteen slivers later, I knew who it was before I saw her. Morrigone came into the room and walked directly over to John.

  “It’s time to go, John,” she said without looking at me.

  He stifled his sobs and nodded, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his pristine black tunic. Morrigone put a hand on his arm, drawing him to her. I did not let go of his other arm.

  I said, “Let him cry. They’re gone. Let him cry.”

  Morrigone gave me what I can only describe as a withering look and I decided to give it right back. She leaned in close and said, “We have you to thank for this, Vega.”

  I walked away from John and stood waiting for her in a far corner. It was about time we had this out, I had decided. I’d had my say with Krone this light and now it was Morrigone’s turn. She strode over to me. I must have grown a bit because I noted that without her heels, I would be taller than her. Yet even in my faded, falling-apart work boots, I was not far off her height. I stood as straight as possible, trying to match her loftiness.

  “I appreciated very much what you did for me with Council, as I told you.”

  “You have an utterly perplexing way of showing that gratitude. John has come here every night since you told him what you promised me you would not.”

  I pointed at John. “It was wrong to keep this truth from him.”

  “You are not the one to make that sort of judgment.”

  “And you are?” I said, the skepticism as thick in my tone as I could make it.

  “It seems that you have forgotten your place here, Vega.”

  “I didn’t know that I had a place, so thank you for reserving me one.”

  “That sort of talk does you no credit. Not while your brother is huddled in that corner, crying his heart out night after night. It is shameful what you did.”

  “He should be crying his heart out. I did.”

  “You disappoint me. I thought you were made of stronger stuff.”

  “Like my grandfather?”

  “Virgil had a tremendous will.”

  “I suppose he would have needed that to survive the fire that swallowed him on his last night here.” It was as though my words had turned Morrigone to marble. I could not even swear that she was still breathing.

  When she spoke, her words were like morta rounds. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

  Warning signals in my head were blaring, telling me to stop talking. But I couldn’t and wouldn’t. I didn’t care if she had saved me from beheading or Valhall. I did care that she had made me keep from my brother a truth that she never should have asked me to withhold. And she had turned a warm, loving, trusting Wug into something I could no longer recognize.

  “Tell me something, Morrigone, how did it feel to watch my grandfather disappear into the flames? Despite you not wanting him to go?”

  I stared at her. The look on her face was deadly.

  She said in an icy tone, “You must be careful, Vega Jane. You must be very careful at this very sliver.”

  I had to admit that her words sent a chill up my spine. I happened to glance away and for the first time noticed that John had stopped weeping and was watching us intently.

  “Morrigone?” he began.

  She instantly held up her hand, and my brother fell back, his next words seemingly struck from his lips before they had a chance to fully form. This simple gesture enraged me even more.

  I had no intention of backing down now.

  I said, “You once taunted me with the word time. But I wonder if you fully understand all that I know? All that I have seen over the course of time?”

  Again, I knew I should have stopped right there, but I wanted to stun her. I wanted to make her feel the pain I was feeling. And there was something else. Just an instant before, it had all come together in my head — the ancient battlefield and the dying female warrior. Now I knew where I had seen her before. I knew beyond all doubt.

  “I met a female who looked remarkably like you, Morrigone, lying mortally wounded on a great battlefield. Do you know what she told me? What she gave me?”

  “You lie!” she hissed.

  “She was your Wug ancestor and she died right in front of me. She spoke to me. She knew me!”

  “This cannot be true,” gasped Morrigone, her calm exterior having totally collapsed.

  I said, “Have you ever been chased by a flying jabbit or a creature so gigantic it can block out the sun, Morrigone? They’re called colossals. It’s quite exhilarating. So long as you survive it. And I did. Does that make me as special as John? Does that place me in the same league as my grandfather in your eyes?”

  “You are deluded.”

  “She wore a ring. The same ring that my grandfather had.”

  Morrigone gasped and snapped, “What did she say to you?”

  “What was her name?” I countered.

  “What did she say to you?” she shouted.

  I hesitated and then just said it. “That I had to survive. Me, Vega Jane. That I had to survive.”

  With a monumental effort Morrigone regained her composure and said icily, “John deserves better in a sibling, Vega. He does indeed. Consider yourself very fortunate this night.”

  She turned on her heel and marched off.

  John said to me, “I will miss them. I will miss them greatly.”

  Then, before I could respond, he turned and followed Morrigone.

  I stood there for a while staring at the floor. Then I finally left, Harry Two at my side. The carriage had long since gone, taking John back to his new life. I was glad he had come here each night to grieve. I was happy I had told him. It was the right thing to do, Wall or no Wall.

  When I got back to my digs, I just wanted to collapse. But when I entered my room, I nearly screamed. Morrigone was standing by the fireplace, her hand on the slender wooden chimneypiece, so far less impressive than the one at her grand home. I looked around for John, but he wasn’t there.

  It was just Morrigone. And me. She came forward.

  “Where is Bogle and the carriage?” I said.

  She ignored this. “The things you said back at the Care.”

  “What of them?” I said.

  Harry Two was growling more deeply with every step Morrigone took toward me. I put my hand on his head to calm him but I kept my gaze on Morrigone.

  “You cannot know such things.”

  “But I do know such things,” I said.

  “Those are two very different points,” she replied.

  In an instant I knew exactly what she meant. I couldn’t be allowed to remember these things. And thus I also knew what she was about to do. It was the same thing she had done to Delph and me all those sessions ago. Her hand went
up. My hand darted to my pocket. Her hand came down. My hand went up. On my hand was the glove, and in it was the Elemental, at full size. The red light ricocheted off the golden spear, struck my window and shattered all of the glass.

  Both of us stood there, breathless. The look in Morrigone’s eyes was truly hideous. She was no longer beautiful. She was the most ugly Wug I had ever witnessed.

  Her gaze darted to the fully formed Elemental.

  “Where did you get that?” she demanded in a hiss.

  “From your ancestor Wug,” I shot back. “She gave it to me. Before she died.”

  Now I took a step forward and Morrigone drew back.

  “What was her name?” I asked, holding the Elemental at the ready.

  “You do not realize what you have done, Vega,” she said fiercely. “You do not!”

  “Why not the blue light this time too, Morrigone? Why the red light? The same one you used on poor Delph.”

  “You have no idea what you are doing, Vega.”

  “I have every idea,” I shouted back.

  “I will not let you destroy us!”

  “Where do Wugs go when they have their Events, Morrigone? They have to go somewhere. And I think you know. And it sure as Hel isn’t Wormwood.”

  She was shaking her head and backing up. “No, Vega. No.”

  I raised the Elemental and positioned it to throw. “You know what this can do,” I said. “I have no wish to harm you.” Well, actually I wanted to turn her to dust, but I saw no good coming from telling her that.

  “No, Vega, never,” she said again.

  And before I could take another step, she was gone. I blinked and looked around in bewilderment. She had simply vanished. I looked down at Harry Two. He was whimpering with his tail between his legs. When I looked up, I saw it, slight, barely visible in the darkness. It was a trail of blue light that carried out the window. As I watched, it lifted to the sky and then vanished, just as Morrigone had.

  I angrily waved my hand after this trail of mist. And the most extraordinary thing happened. My shattered window flew back together and became whole once more.

  Having done this, I was thrown back against the wall by some violent force and I slumped down, my energy fully spent. I looked at my hands, then at the repaired glass and wood. How had that happened? How could I possibly have done what I just did? I reached in my pocket and pulled out the Adder Stone. I rubbed it over my body and thought happy thoughts. My aches from hitting the wall ceased and my energy returned.

  Eon had said that the spirit of a sorceress had been embedded in the Stone, giving it its power. Had it somehow given me some of her power by its being in my pocket?

  Well, if it had, I also had no real ability to control it.

  I sat there thinking thoughts that were both terrifying and exhilarating.

  ALL WUGS WERE required to attend the opening of this Duelum. I thought that a bit interesting since we were supposedly surrounded by bloodthirsty Outliers wanting to feast on our organs. The pitch was nearly encircled by a rim of trees that had evaded inclusion on the Wall, at least for now. After eating a bit, I showed up at first section of light. I had tried to sleep the night before but couldn’t. So I decided I would get down here early and see what I could see.

  The pitch site was called the Peckwater Quadrangle after Ronald Peckwater, a long-ago mighty Duelum champion of Wormwood. The inside of the pitch was uneven and dented in innumerable places from large male bodies colliding violently with the dirt over the course of many previous Duelums. A wooden platform had been erected in the center of the pitch. Here would sit the VIWs, or Very Important Wugs. Behind the platform was a large board with all the names of the competitors, where the progress in the Duelum would be chronicled for all to see. There were also betting circles set up on the pitch’s perimeter, where wagers would be placed. The ever-enterprising Roman Picus ran a right successful betting pool through which he had relieved many Wugs of their coin over the sessions.

  I had left Destin back at my digs under the floorboards. I was terrified that during the course of the fighting, I would unconsciously take flight and my secret would be exposed.

  The air was fresh and warm and the sky clear. As the time to fight drew closer, the fairies in my stomach seemed to multiply. In my mind I went over and over what Delph had taught me. I felt stronger, more nimble and tougher because of his training. I had beaten Cletus up before, but not in a Duelum. And he had grown this past session to where he was far bigger than me. Still, he was a git and I simply refused to lose to a git.

  The crowds started assembling near the end of the first section of light. Some Wugs smiled and gave me encouraging words. However, others shunned me. If I were to take a poll, it seemed that Wormwood would be split right down the middle on my guilt or innocence. It wasn’t that the Wugs against me really thought me bad. It was just that many Wugs accepted whatever Council told them. And, in all honesty, I had enemies here, even before I had been plunked in Valhall.

  Many Wugs proceeded on to the small betting area, probably to wager coin on Cletus Loon bashing in my brains.

  Delph showed up with his father in time to see Bogle and the carriage arrive. Morrigone, Thansius and John alighted and took their places on the platform along with other members of Council. Julius Domitar sat in the back of this group, along with Wugs I did not normally associate with because I was apparently not good enough.

  Delph patted me on the shoulder and said, “How do you feel, Vega Jane?”

  “I feel great,” I lied. “I can’t wait for it to start.” Now, that wasn’t a lie. I wanted it to start before my head exploded. I just kept telling myself that it would be terribly bad form to vomit on Cletus Loon before the fight bell had even rung. Though it would be enormously satisfying to see my sick on his shirt.

  For expediency, there would be multiple bouts carried on at the same time in the quadrants of the pitch. There was no time limit on a bout. Wugs kept fighting until one no longer could. That was a stark rule and one that any sane Wug might have questioned. However, sanity seemed to be in limited supply these lights and nights in Wormwood.

  I eyed the other females who would be fighting. They both looked sicker and paler than I probably did. I was not in the first set of bouts, so I sat on a small knoll overlooking the pitch and awaited Delph, who was in a first bout pitted against Digby. I was sure that most bettors had wagered on Delph, and when I looked over at the betting board, I could see that he was a heavy favorite.

  Digby was in the process of removing his great, filthy shirt. I had always imagined him to be flabby and hideously dirty without clothes on. Thus, I was surprised to see him so muscular. Though I had been quite correct about the hideously dirty part.

  Digby went through a series of stretches and then started running in place. His muscles rippled as he did so. Then he started to do a bit of practice pugilism, weaving and bobbing and punching. He seemed quite adept at it, very fast and very accurate. I glanced worriedly over at Delph. He had not removed his shirt and he was not stretching or pretend-boxing. He was just standing there with his gaze squarely on Ran Digby. And in his look I began to see a Delph with whom no one would want to tangle. His strong hands curled to fists and he kept looking at Digby with such fierce concentration that he reminded me of the jabbits after me at Stacks. I wanted to tell Delph good luck but I was afraid of breaking whatever trance he was putting himself in.

  Thansius rose and addressed us. “Welcome to the Duelum,” he said in a booming voice. “And what a fine light for it. I want to wish luck to all fighters. We all want clean bouts and I have confidence in our referees to ensure that that will indeed be the case.”

  I was really only half listening. My gaze flitted over to John and then away again several times. Finally, our gazes caught each other. I saw him actually smile at me encouragingly before Morrigone drew his attention away.

  I caught her once looking at me. Her expression was unreadable, and all I could think about was her
vanishing in a mist of blue. She could banish Wugs’ memories and, in the case of Delph, damage their minds. She was an extraordinary Wug, I had to give her that. But she was also dangerous. Anyone with such powers was. And it was only an instant later that I realized I might have to include myself in that group.

  Of the bouts to take place now, I cared about only one. Delph and Ran Digby entered their quadrant. Delph had taken off his shirt and I marveled at his lean, chiseled physique. There was not a smidgen of fat on him. He still looked only at Digby, who stared back at his opponent as he flexed his massive arms and worked kinks out of his creta-thick neck.

  Right at the strike of the second section of light, the competition bell rang. I had to blink because I would not have thought it possible that two males that large could move that fast. They collided in the very center of the quadrant, and the sound of bone and muscles crashing together made me light-headed. It was like two cretas ramming together.

  Digby got a headlock on Delph and looked like he was trying to rip his head from his torso. Delph strained to free himself with his hands and this exposed his body. Digby took advantage of this by delivering thunderous knee kicks to Delph’s stomach and sides.

  I cringed with each blow. I was stunned that Delph was still upright. But then with a mighty effort, he broke Digby’s hold on him and the two huge Wugs faced off. Digby was breathing heavy. Delph looked calm and in control. I marveled at his composure after nearly having his head ripped off and his body wickedly slammed with blows from Digby’s bony knees.

  But it was over more quickly than I could have imagined. After they each threw a few punches that careened off their hardened torsos, and Digby missed with a kick, Delph got a choke hold on Digby. He lifted him full off the ground, spun around and delivered his opponent face-first into the hard dirt. There was a crunching sound and Digby lay still.

  Delph let go of Digby’s neck and rose. The referee checked Digby’s status and then waved over the Mendens, who hurried in with their bulky bags. While they were resuscitating Digby, the referee raised Delph’s hand to the sky and declared him the winner. I cheered louder than anyone. When Delph came back over, he was the old Delph again, the steely, disquieting look gone and replaced with a lopsided grin.