David Baldacci - The Finisher

“How did you know I was here?”

“Word got round fast, it did.”

“H-how did you save Nida’s life?”

“He was out on patrol with the Carbineers one night. Stupid Cletus Loon mistook him for something and took aim with his morta. I was walking past and saw what was happening. I grabbed Nida and threw him down a moment before Loon fired. Blew a hole in the side of a tree instead of Nida’s head.”

I nodded, but my mind had already moved back to my dilemma.

“You ain’t guilty of nothing, Vega Jane. And you’re going to be out of here in a sliver.”

“I’m really scared,” I said.

He reached out a finger and touched my hand.

An instant later, we had leapt back because Nida’s club had come down on the bars, nearly crushing our fingers.

Nida barked, “Talk, not touch. Har! And your slivers are almost up, Delphia.”

I looked down at Harry Two. He looked alone and scared. I said, “Delph, can you look after Harry Two?” I swallowed a huge lump in my throat. “Just while I’m in here.”

He nodded. “O’course. What’s one more beast to the Delphias?” He tried to smile at his little joke but couldn’t manage it.

I looked at Harry Two. “You’re going to go with Delph, okay?”

Harry Two, I thought, shook his head, but I pointed my finger at him and told him again. He finally lowered his head, and his tail tucked between his hind legs.

“I have to get on to Wall building,” Delph said. “I’m already late.”

I nodded.

He glanced over at Nida. He was busy adjusting the shuck’s spiked collar.

Delph reached in his pocket and handed me a hard roll, a bit of meat and an apple.

“I’ll be back soon as I can.”

I nodded again. With one more look back at me, Delph and Harry Two disappeared down the cobblestones.

I retreated to the far corner of the cage, squatted down with my back to Nida and had my meal. My belly was hungry, but my mind refused to focus on the food in front of me.

The full Council would be meeting to decide my fate. I couldn’t believe they would kill me for merely possessing a book. But the more I thought about it, the worse my thoughts became. It wasn’t simply any book. It was a book that described the creatures of the Quag. They would want to know how I had come by it. Would they accuse me of actually going in the Quag to learn this? Should I tell them I had nicked it from Quentin Herms’s cottage? Then they would want to know why I was there. What would my defense be? That I believed the idea of the Outliers was a load of hooey? And that the Wall was being built to keep us Wugs in and not Outliers out? Oh, yes, that would go over very well with Council. They might give me a bloody medal.

I was about to take a bite of the apple but instead I put it back in my pocket. I felt sick to my stomach; cold waves of nausea swept over me. I was not going to leave Valhall this light. I might never leave here until they took my head clean from my shoulders.

The light swept to the third section and the sun beat down on the metal roof of the cage, making it sweltering inside. I remembered the Wug McCready, who had asked me for a cuppa water when I had passed by here. I could understand his request as my throat felt like it was closing up. It was fortunate, I knew, that no Wugs had come by to see me here. Or to hurl spit at me. Or call me a traitor. How long would that last?

I looked over at Nida. He was watching me closely now, perhaps wondering how well I would handle being locked up.

I thought of several smart remarks but didn’t have the courage or energy to deliver any of them.

As the light wore on, I heard the wheels before I saw the carriage. Only it wasn’t a carriage. What turned the corner and headed to Valhall was a simple wagon with a cage set in the back. Two Wugs who I knew worked for Council were in the driver’s box. A single old slep was pulling it, its head and tail drooping in the heat.

They stopped in front of the cage door and one of them jumped down. His tunic was not black, but green. He handed Nida a parchment.

“The prisoner is wanted at Council,” he said.

Nida nodded, glanced at the parchment and then unhooked the large key from his wide belt. He unlocked the cage door and said, “Come, now!”

I stumbled forward and the Wug shackled my legs and hands. He had to lift me into the back of the wagon and I was forced into the cage, which was bolted after me.

The Wug got back in the wagon, and the other Wug whipped up the slep.

And off I went to Council.

Off I went, perhaps forever.

THE COUNCIL BUILDINGwas located at the very end of the High Street. It made all other structures in Wormwood, except Stacks and Steeples, seem but a clutter of old boards and cracked glass by comparison. It was that grand. I had no idea who had built it or when. I had always admired it, if from afar.

It was constructed of stone and marble with soaring columns out front and grand steps leading up to it. The doors were made of iron with intricate scrollwork that, as a Finisher, I had long loved to gaze at. It was said that the lights in the Council building were never extinguished and that despite the heat or cold outside, it remained the same temperature inside at all times.

As the head of Council, Thansius maintained his living quarters on the second floor. I had never been inside. I had had no reason to — until now. And I wished with all my heart that I were not here.

They did not bring me in the front entrance. I supposed prisoners were not given that privilege. A rear entry sufficed. I passed other Wugs who worked at Council as I shuffled along in the chain bindings. Most of the Wugs didn’t look at me. Those who did were fiendishly hostile. I hoped they were not part of the voting process here; otherwise I would be dead before this night.

I was led into a chamber that was nearly as large as the main room at Stacks, but far nicer. The floors were marble, the walls of stone, the ceiling a combination of the two, with enormous old worm-pitted beams crisscrossing the high space.

On a raised dais behind an intricately carved wooden waist-high wall sat the full Council. Thansius was seated in the center. He wore his robes of bloodred, which I did not take as a good sign. To his left was Krone, dressed in his usual black. To his right was Morrigone. She too was dressed in red.

Red and black would never again be favored colors of mine.

I was led to a small table with one chair. Next to it was a lectern, which the Preceptors at Learning had used when teaching us youngs.

“Remove her shackles,” ordered Thansius.

This was done immediately by the two Wugs who had brought me here by wagon. Then they retreated and I heard the door close behind them.

Now it was just me and Council. I looked up at them. And they looked down at me. I felt like a mouse quivering before a garm.

“Sit down, prisoner,” said Krone, “while charges against you are read.”

I sat, surreptitiously tugged down my shirtsleeves and tried to stop my heart from bursting out of my throat. From the corner of my eye I saw Ladon-Tosh seated to the side of the chamber. He was not looking at anyone or anything. I couldn’t understand why he was here, but then my gaze drifted down to his waist.

There was an ax held there in a special sheath fitted to his belt.

I turned back to look at Council while tendrils of cold dread formed around me.

Jurik Krone stood with a scroll of parchment in hand. He looked triumphantly at his fellow Council members. His victorious gaze, at least it seemed to me, lingered longest on Morrigone.

“This female, Vega Jane, has long been skirting the laws of Wormwood. I have statements from Cacus Loon and his son, Cletus, as well as from Non and Roman Picus, that shows she has broken laws without consequences for some time now.”