David Baldacci: The Finisher

“If you think Delph is such a waste, why not challenge him in the next Duelum?”

His face reddened. “I’m too old for the Duelum. But in my prime, female —”

“And how many Duelums did you win in your prime, male ?”

He grimaced. “You best learn, Vega,” he growled. “Go along to get along.”

“Speaking of going, where are you off to, Roman?”

He looked like I had slapped him. “You’re asking me such a question?”

“We’re having such a nice conversation, I wanted to keep it going.”

“D’ya want to be written up at Council, Vega?”

“Absolutely. I hear that with three or more infractions the offending Wug is eligible for some sort of prize.”

“I have no slivers for idle dithering with the poor likes-a you.” But then he paused and studied me. “Quentin Herms?” he asked.

“What of him?”

“Hear he’s done a bunk.”

“Maybe,” I said cautiously.

Roman shrugged and looked at his boots. “Maybe a garm got him. Har.”

“All lodging fees collected for the quartersession?” I asked, intentionally changing the subject. I did not want to discuss Quentin Herms.

He smiled wickedly and held out a large, grimy hand. “Speaking of, I’ll just take yours now, Vega.”

I held out a small sheet of parchment with writing and a seal on it. “I paid after I walked John to Learning. Your clerk gave me a bit of coin off for bringing it around myself and saving him a trip.”

His smile fell away to a frown. “Oh, did he? Well, we’ll see about that.”

“All mouth and no trousers, Roman.”

“And what the bloody Hel do ya mean by that?”

“Your clerk showed me the official scroll you signed authorizing the discount. I like to know things like that before I commit my wages to pay for space in that dung heap you call lodging.”

Roman could chuck my brother and me out of the Loons if he wanted to. Maybe part of me desired that. But he simply turned and stalked off, and I hurried on.

Learning was housed in a building located near the other end of the High Street. It could hold a few hundred youngs but now had less than half that. Learning was done in Wormwood, but it was not done with a lot of energy. As I stood on the lumpy cobblestones and waited, it struck me that the top edge of the building’s roof was sad-looking. It curved a bit downward like it was frowning.

The door opened and the youngs started to trickle out.

The last Wug out was always my brother.

John Jane was short and skinny and looked far younger than his age. His hair was dark and long, nearly as long as mine. He would not allow me or anyone else to cut it. He was not strong, but he would fight you if you tried to cut his hair. His gaze was downcast. He was seemingly enthralled by his feet, which were disproportionately long and promised great height later. John Jane did not look like much on the outside, but there was a great deal going on inside his head.

I had seen him make observations about things I’d never thought of. And he never forgot anything. It was only in private moments when we were together that I gained glimpses of what was really in his upstairs room. It was quite full, that room, far fuller than mine.

A shy smile crept across his face, and his shuffle picked up. I held up my tin box. On the way here, I had stopped and picked him some berries, and there was also a feather wing I got for him and smoked up earlier in the hearth at Stacks. John liked his meat, though we didn’t have much of that at the Loons. He hurried across the cobblestones, opened the box and saw the wing. He looked at me and smiled again. I did not understand John most of the time, but I loved to see that smile. There was no food provided during Learning, although the time spent there was long. They said food distracted youngs. I believed a lack of food distracted everybody. I said so when I was a young. It was a wonder, I realized now, that they let me stay until I was twelve sessions, which was the age when Learning ended. That was far too early, I thought, but I didn’t make the rules, did I?

John took my hand with his free one and we walked along. As we did so, I looked around. There were clusters of Wugmorts here and there. They were all talking in hushed whispers. I also saw Council members in their black tunics scurrying around like rats through rubbish.

I had seen Quentin flee into the Quag. It wasn’t simply because Council was after him with the canines. His note told me that he had not intended on coming back, and that note had to have been placed in the cup before first light. Clearly, Quentin had planned on going into the Quag, Council and canines or not. But why? There was nothing in the Quag except certain death. And there was nothing on the other side of the Quag at all. Yet Quentin’s note had said that what he had left would set me free from Wormwood. My mind leapt ahead to the obvious conclusion.

There was some place beyond the Quag. Or so he believed.

My focus turned back to John.

We had a ritual, John and I. Every other light after Learning, we went to see our parents at the Care, where Wugs who were unwell and for whom the Mendens at hospital could do nothing more were sent. The place was guarded by a huge Wug named Non.

Non knew John and me because we came so often. But each time, he treated us as though it was our first visit. It irritated me terribly and seemed to greatly amuse him.

John had already hungrily begun eating his wing, and the fatty juice from the meat spilled across his small mouth. As we walked up to the Care, I saw Delph step from the deepening shadows of a chestnut tree. He looked nervous. His hair was even whiter from working at the Mill all light, and his face and shirt were sweat stained. He nodded shyly and looked down at John.

“Hello, Delph,” said John. He held up his feather wing. “Do you want a bite?”

Delph, I knew, was tempted. But he shook his head. I think I knew why. It was quite obvious how skinny my brother was. I don’t think Delph wanted to deprive him this bit of food.

We all turned and walked together to the entrance. I gritted my teeth and told Non we were here to see our mother and father. I let him see the Council parchment that allowed our visits. Non took his time examining the document, although by now he had probably memorized every word on it. He handed it back to me and then glared at Delph.

“But his name is nae on there, female.”

Delph took a step back, which made Non grin maliciously. He said, “Y’know, for such a great big Wug, you’re more like a female, ain’t you, Delph? Scared of your own shadow.” He made a lunge at Delph, and Delph jumped back.

Non roared with laughter and tossed me the key to my parents’ room. “G’on in, then. Don’t think the likes of him can do much harm.”

I said, “If I remember correctly, Delph beat you in the last Duelum, Non. How long were you unconscious again?”

Non’s smile disappeared, and as we passed by, he gave Delph a hard shove in the back that nearly sent him sprawling. I said nothing and didn’t look at Delph, because I knew how embarrassed he was. In my mind, I slaughtered Non one thousand times with increasing fervor.

We passed through the doorway and into a long corridor that was dark and cool. Even when it was hot outside, it was cool in here. I didn’t know how this was accomplished. At any other place in Wormwood, the only way to get cool was to open a window and hope for a breeze or pour cold water over your head.

We passed a Nurse in the hall. She was dressed in a gray cloak with a white cap on her head. She nodded, gave a terse smile and hurried on.

There were doors opening off the long hall. They were all locked. I knew this because during past visits I’d tried to open several of them. There were brass plates bolted to the doors of each room with names on them like Judith Frigg, Wolfgang Spriggan and Irin Grine. I didn’t know these Wugs, but I had seen some of their families here. They had looked as blank and hopeless as I probably did.