‘Can you remember anything? Anything at all? Something 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.
‘Delph,’ I cried out. ‘Please, wait.’
And then it happened. I didn’t intend it to, but it just did. I leaped 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 heart pumping hard along with my jangled breaths. Then I groaned.
Delph had come here to tell me about the Event. And I had chased him away with my questions and my ill-timed leap.
‘You fool, Vega,’ I said ruefully. ‘You’ve ruined everything.’
I trudged on to Stacks, as depressed and bewildered as I had ever been.
19
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, the column 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.
‘How did she know which ones to send?’
‘I told her it didn’t matter.’
‘You told her?’
He nodded. ‘She came to Learning two lights ago, to talk to the youngs about the Outliers and the Wall.’
‘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.
‘To do what Council expects us to do.’
‘OK, what does Morrigone want you to do? Come up with more brilliant ideas?’
‘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?’
‘Morrigone said she was going to talk to you about it.’
‘Well, she hasn’t. Although having another meal there would be very welcome.’
Right then I heard the creak of the wheels. I raced to the window that looked out on to 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.
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 and the look in her eye was all business.
‘Vega,’ she said briskly. ‘I require a word with you 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?’ she asked.
I nodded and pulled the sheaf from my cloak. It had many official signatures and seals on it. ‘Domitar handed these out to all Stackers. 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 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 mistake on a grand scale.’
She looked at me curiously. ‘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.
‘At times of crisis like this, we must take advantage of everyone’s special gifts.’
‘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?’
‘I want him to come and live with me.’
I stopped walking. It felt like the blood had ceased moving 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 dreamed. Plenty of food to eat, towers of books to read, 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 – talents 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 believing our good fortune.
‘John can come at first light. I will send Bogle for him.’
I was so excited, imagining all the possibilities of such an arrangement, that I, at first, did not quite comprehend her emphasis on the name John and word him. 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.
‘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 wanted to say, What about me? Can I not blossom? Can I not rise to great heights under 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 a 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 blurted out.
‘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 would say no, because John had not seemed overly disturbed about the move. Perhaps he’d assumed I would be joining him?
‘Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first.’ 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 as a lump formed in my throat and a profound ache gripped my chest.
‘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 freezing water settled into my skin when I realized fully that I had just lost my brother.
20
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 back-breaking Wug work. All able-bodied males were recr
uited to do these tasks, while other less physically fit Wugmorts and some females started digging out the foundations on the ground where the Wall would be erected and also the deep moats on either side. Council had wholeheartedly embraced my brother’s idea of a layered defence.
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. 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 elaborate pulley system and figured it might be one of John’s creations.
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 evil Outliers might turn up any sliver and devour the entire place. I was still not convinced this was the case, but it was better to hedge one’s bets. 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.
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 Wormwood was becoming a place preparing to be struck by the enemy.
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.
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 for John going to live with Morrigone, the Loons had been instructed by her to increase my ration portions, including a first meal, however insubstantial.
‘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 birds 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.
Over 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, in total luxury, and with servants to do what every other Wug had to do for themselves?
Yet I knew that John did not want to leave me. It wasn’t just the tears he spilt and the soft cries he let escape as Morrigone escorted him out to the carriage without me. It was the look 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 system was his invention. I marvelled 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 leaving, he gave me a crushing hug. I finally had to gently pry myself free.
At my second visit, 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.’
After this visit, as Morrigone opened the front door to see me out, she’d 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.’
‘As a means of thanking you for allowing John to come and live with me.’
I had looked at the coins in her outstretched palm. Part of me wanted to snatch them out of her hand. ‘No, thanks,’ I had said, and then I turned and walked back to the Loons, foregoing the offered carriage ride.
I now looked down from my high perch in my tree. 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.
Thus, I backed up to the very end of my boards, took off running and leaped 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.
I landed smoothly and stood there for a sliver or two, breathing in the cool air.
I heard it before I saw anything. Four legs, moving rapidly. But I was not afraid, not this time. I had Destin, so I could take to the sky in an instant if I needed to.
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 had a canine I’d 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 got in between us trying to defend me, and the garm had killed him. Even now, as I recalled this terrible memory, tears filled my eyes. It had been my job to take care of Harry and I had let him down, costing my canine his life. I would never forgive myself for it.
Yet this canine, I swear, could have been Harry’s twin. I took a few more steps forward and he rose up on all fours, his tail sweeping back and forth and his tongue hanging out.
‘Harry?’ I said again.
The canine came forward hesitantly and then he broke into a run before skidding to a halt inches from me. Light was just breaking as the sun began its rise.
I touched his head. The fur was soft and warm, and his eyes were mismatched: right, blue; left, green. Harry had had the same, but their order had been reversed.
I knelt next to him and took one of his front paws. He allowed me to do so with a hint of mild curiosity on his face. The paws were large and promised that the little canine would grow to be large.
Then I noted that his coat was dirty and I could see his ribs through the fur. He also had a cut on his front left leg that needed some sorting out. I scratched his ears and thought about what to do. I knew that Loon was not keen on beasts at his digs. At the ver
y least, he would demand more coin, which I did not have. I would have to let this canine carry on without me.
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. Then he rolled over so I could scratch his belly, which I did.
When he turned back over, he nudged my hand on to the top of his head. Harry used to do that too. Yet maybe all canines do. Harry was the only one I’d ever had. I stumbled on to 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.
Now 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 given him a name.
I looked to the sky. Soon, 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, and licked 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.
Vega Jane and the Secrets of Sorcery Page 9