David Baldacci - The Finisher

“Wo-wo-wotcha, Vega Jane.”

I turned slowly around and saw Delph standing there. “Hello, Delph,” I replied. He drew even closer. He looked tired and while his hair was no longer white because he had not been working in the Mill, it was long and scraggly and right dirty black.

He held up my book.

I stared at it and then at him, unsure whether I should claim ownership.

“C-c-can I c-come t-too, Ve-Vega Jane?”

I STARED AT DELPH, dumbfounded.

He drew closer and held the book up even higher. “To the Quag, I’m meaning, eh,” he said in a too-loud voice.

“I know it’s the bloody Quag,” I said fiercely, finally finding my voice. “And you don’t have to tell every Wug in Wormwood about it. Where did you find it?”

In a far quieter voice, he said, “Box in the ho-hole you d-dug.”

“How did you know about that?”

“Wa-watched you, di-didn’t I?”

“Have you read it?” I asked in a whisper.

“N-not all. But it don’t s-say h-how a Wu-Wug gets th-through it,” he said.

He eyed my waist. Rather, he eyed the chain around my waist.

“You ca-can fly,” he said. “’Cause-a that thing?”

I felt myself growing angry. “You’re sounding very logical, Delph. Was it all an act before? Because if it was, you are the biggest, sorriest git I’ve ever met.”

He fell back a step, his face betraying his hurt feelings. “I ca-can talk, Vega Jane, when I want to. But th-things get mu-mu-muddled up here.” He touched his head and sat down on a stump and gazed pitifully up at me, the book dangling between his fingers. My anger faded as I looked at his hurt features.

“Where’d y-you ge-get it?”

“I found it at Quentin Herms’s cottage. He was the one who put it together.”

“So’s he’s b-been through the Qu-Quag?”

“I guess so.”

“Then th-the Out-Ou — th-the Out —”

We eyed each other for about a sliver but said nothing.

He held the book up to me. “Ta-take it,” he said, and I did. “No map-a the Qu-Quag,” he pointed out.

“I have one,” I replied.

“Where?”

“Someplace safe.” I sat next to him on the ground. This actually would be my best opportunity to have my most pressing question answered and I intended to do just that. “I had a vision. Would you like to hear it, Delph?”

“Vi-vision? What, like Mor-Morri … gone?”

“Maybe more certain even than that. I went back in time. Do you see?”

I saw him mouth the words back in time . But no realization spread over his features. “Wha-what, like when y-you was a ti-tiny thing?”

“Even before that. But when I was younger I saw someone, Delph. I saw you.”

He looked truly unnerved by this, his face frozen in fear. “The Hel you say.”

“I saw you at Morrigone’s house.”

He shook his head savagely. “You ca-can’t ha-have.”

“I saw you running away from her home. You were so scared, Delph.”

He put his hands up to his ears, covering them. “’Tain’t true, ’tain’t.”

“And I saw Morrigone. She was scared too.”

“’Tain’t true!” Delph exclaimed.

“And I think I know what you saw.”

“No … n-no … no,” sobbed Delph.

I put my hand on his quaking shoulder. “The red light? You remember you told me about the red light? Was it Morrigone’s hair you saw? Was that the red light?”

Delph was swinging his head to and fro. I was afraid he was going to jump up and run off. But I swore to myself that if he did, I would fly after him. I would run him down and make him tell me the truth. I needed to know that badly.

“She was there, wasn’t she? And my grandfather? At her home? His Event? It happened then and there, didn’t it?” I shook him. “Didn’t it, Delph? Didn’t it!”

He shouted, “I was there, Vega Jane!”

“With Morrigone? And my grandfather?”

He nodded.

“Why were you there? Why? You have to tell me.” I shook him again. “Tell me!”

His face was scrunched in agony. He doubled over, but I pulled him back upright. I was out of my mind now. I had to know. I didn’t care if I was hurting him. My whole life was apparently a lie. I had to know some part of the truth. I had to know right this sliver.

I slapped him. “Tell me!”

“G-gone to see her new wh-whist hound me dad brung her after he tr-trained it up. H-Harpie. L-loved H-Harpie, I d-did.”

“Then what?”

“Th-thought I could h-hear Harpie inside. T-took a peek.”

“And you went in?”

He nodded, his face still screwed up in pain, his eyes closed. I kept a grip on his arm. I was willing him to keep going. “D-didn’t see no Wug n-n-nowhere. No Har-Harpie neither.”

“Keep going, Delph. Keep going.”

“H-heard a noise. Still n-no Wu-Wug. So’s I w-went up the stairs. I w-was sc-scared.”

“You were only six sessions, Delph. I would’ve been scared too.” I was keeping my voice level now, trying to force the same calm on him.

“G-got closer, hear-heard ’em. Argu-arg-arguing.” He finally got the troublesome word out of his mouth.

“My grandfather and Morrigone?”

He said nothing. I shook him. “Was it them?”

“C-can’t do th-this, Ve —”

“Was it them?” I roared, twisting his face until it was lined up with mine. “Look at me, Delph. Look at me!” I screamed. He opened his eyes. “Was it Morrigone and my grandfather?”

“Yes,” he said breathlessly, tears dribbling from his eyes.

“Any other Wug?” He shook his head. “Brilliant. Keep going, Delph.”

“Them ar-arguing like that, sc-scared me. But … but may-maybe I c-could help, calm ’em down. L-like I’d do w-with the beasts with m-me dad. C-calm ’em down like.”

“I would have thought the same thing, Delph. Calm them down. Trying to help.”

He let out a little sob and I felt so guilty for making him remember all this, but there was no other way. He put his head in his hands and started sobbing, and I jerked him back straight so he had to look me in the eye.

“You can’t stop now. You have to get this out. You have to.”

“T-two doors d-down that way. Nothing b-b-behind the first one.”

“And the second?” I said, my voice like fragile chips of ice in my throat.

“When I saw …” His voice trailed off and he started to whimper. I thought I was going to lose him again. But I didn’t yell this time. I didn’t hit him.

“You saw something that made you really afraid, didn’t you?”

He nodded miserably. “They wa-was f-facing each uh-other.”

“Was she mad at him? Was she angry? And he was trying to calm her?”

His response stunned me. “’Twas the uh-uh-other way round, Ve-Vega Jane. ’Twas M-Morrigone, what l-l-looked scared. She s-s-seemed to be tr-tr-trying to calm him d-down.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “What was she saying to him?”

Delph took deep shuddering breaths, his body twitching with each of them. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he was trying to throw off some sick that had got hold of him. He finally stopped twitching, rubbed his face clear of tears and sat up. He looked directly at me. His expression was clear. There was no more pain there.

“Not to go,” Delph said simply. “Please not to go.”

“And what did he say?”

“That he had to. He had to try. He just had to. He kept saying it over and over. So terrible-like. Hear him in me dreams …” His voice trailed off again.

“Go? Go where?” I said more harshly than I intended.

Delph glanced down at me, his face so pale it looked like the Noc close up.