David Baldacci - The Finisher

I shot downward as the cobble continued to spin. I pushed a bookcase out of the way, gripped the Elemental and flung it as hard as I could. The cobble came out of the rotation just as the Elemental found its mark.

The cobble exploded.

As the Elemental flew back toward me, Delph screamed, “Look out, Vega Jane.”

I partially ducked but was still knocked heels over bum and landed hard against a wall. As I slumped to the floor, the remaining cobble swung its great fist back to batter me once more, this time surely into the Hallowed Ground. I had forgotten the warning in Quentin’s book: Woe be to the Wug who forgets that destroying one part of the thing does not equal victory.

I was too wonky to fly. The Elemental was not yet back in hand. And an extremely large fist was coming right at my head. At the last instant, I sprang up and smashed my own fist into the cobble’s belly.

The cobble was lifted off its massive feet and flew backward through the air, where it struck the wall opposite so hard it exploded into fragments. I just stood there for a sliver or two looking at what remained of the cobble and then at my fist. I had no idea what had just happened. The Elemental arrived in my gloved hand and I closed my fingers around it.

I looked once more at the remains of the cobble and then my mind went back to that night at the Care when I had struck Non: My hand was injured delivering the blow. Striking the rocklike cobble, my poor bones should have shattered. There was only one explanation. I lifted my cloak and looked down at Destin. It was an ice blue. I touched it and then hastily withdrew my finger. It was molten to the touch, although all I could feel around my waist was a heightened sense of warmth.

“Wo-wo-wotcha, Ve-Ve-Vega Jane?” the voice called out.

“Delph!” I had forgotten about him.

I ran to him, used my newfound strength to throw off the bookcases that covered most of him. He was bruised and bloodied.

“Can you stand?” I asked.

He nodded slowly and said weakly, “Th-think so.”

I gingerly helped him up. He was holding his right arm funny and he couldn’t put much weight on his left leg.

“Delph, hold on to me.”

I willed the Elemental to shrink, placed it in my pocket and then lifted him up and over my back. He gasped in amazement at this, but I had no time for explanations. I leapt into the air and flew out the doorway, down the stairs, and didn’t land until we were at the door we had come through. I was giving the jabbits no chance to get us. I smashed open the door, flew through it with Delph on my back and we soared into the nighttime sky.

I didn’t land again until we were at Delph’s cottage. As I set him down, he said in a dazed voice, “How did you lift me like that, Vega Jane?”

“I’m not sure, Delph. How bad are you hurt?” I asked anxiously.

“Busted up pretty good,” he admitted. “Cobbles,” he added.

“You did read the book.”

“Dinnae figure on meeting one of them on this side of the Quag, though.”

“Can you walk?”

“I can limp.”

I slapped my forehead. “I’ve got the Adder Stone. I’ll sort you out in no time.”

I reached in one pocket. Then my other. I frantically searched every crevice of clothing I had. Then I groaned. The Stone was gone. I looked at Delph with a miserable expression.

“I must have lost it back at Stacks. I can go and —”

He gripped my arm. “You are nae going back there.”

“But the Stone. Your injuries.”

“I’ll heal, Vega Jane. Just take a bit of time.”

Then another thought seized me. “The Duelum!”

He nodded sadly. “Can’t fight with one arm and leg, can I?”

“Delph, I’m so sorry. This was all my fault.”

“In this together, Vega Jane, ain’t we? I chose to come, insisted on it, actually. And you saved me life.”

I helped him into the cottage. Duf was not there. Probably working at the Wall, I reckoned. I got Delph into his cot after cleaning up his cuts and icing his bruises with cold water from a bucket his father kept in the little cave. I fashioned a sling for his arm and found a thick cudgel he could use to help him walk.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, tears forming in my eyes.

He smiled weakly. “No dull times round you, is there? Har.”

THE NEXT THINGI knew, it was light and I was waking up on my cot. I was tired, sore, out of sorts and my head mired in the events of last night. Something licked my hand and I sat up and patted Harry Two on the head. When I looked outside my window, I saw Wugs streaming past in large numbers.

I took a sliver to realize what was going on. The Duelum! It was at second light. I was late. I jumped off my cot, nearly scaring Harry Two to death, and scrambled into the clothes I had let fall to the floor the night before. I stopped, looked down at Destin where I had dropped it on the floor. With that I could defeat any Wug in the Duelum. I was torn. One thousand coins. It was a lot of wealth, more than I would ever have. But it wasn’t the coins that mattered. Other Wugs would think highly of me if I were champion crowned — the female in the Starving Tove and plenty of others. Like Delph said, I was famous. Wugs knew me.

Still I made no move to pick up Destin. I finally used my foot to edge the chain under my cot. I didn’t have to win the bloody Duelum. I just had to fight my hardest. And part of me was afraid if I used Destin and its power, I might unintentionally kill a Wug. I did not want that on my conscience. I also wanted to win fair and square. I was a liar, a sometime thief, a pain in the arse on more than a few occasions, but apparently I had some moral tendencies left.

As I passed other Wugs streaming toward the pitch, it occurred to me that I had not checked the board last night to see who I would be fighting. I arrived as the bell sounded and looked quickly around. Was I in this set of bouts? I spotted the betting board and rushed over to it.

“When do I fight?” I cried out breathlessly to the Wug there collecting coin and doling out parchment in return. His name was Litches McGee and he had the reputation of being scrupulously honest with his bets and being an ugly git in all other aspects of his life. He was Roman Picus’s chief competitor when it came to the betting business, which was reason enough for me to deal with McGee. The lesser of two pillocks, as it were.

He looked at me. “Second set of bouts, Vega, for the good it’ll do you,” he said snidely. Then I looked up at the betting board and saw there were fifty bets placed on my match. And not a single Wug had picked me to win. My gaze went across the wood to see who I would be fighting. When I saw the name, I realized why the odds on my victory were so poor, well, nonexistent, to be precise.

Non. I was fighting blithering, bleeding Non.

McGee smiled at me. “Nae Cletus Loon this light, female. Say good-bye to that thousand coins, or me name’s Alvis Alcumus.”

I trembled with rage at his words. I stuck my hand in my pocket, pulled out the only coin I had and held it out to him.

He nodded approvingly. “You’re betting on Non, o’course. Make up for having your brains beat outta you. But with the odds so in favor of Non, it won’t be much you win.”

“I’m betting on Vega Jane to win,” I said with far more confidence than I felt. Actually, I felt no confidence at all. Why in the Hel had I left Destin back at my digs? Why did I think it was smart to be honorable? To fight fair?

“You’re joshing, o’course,” McGee said in an incredulous tone.

“Give me the parchment with my name as winner,” I said between clenched teeth.