Thansius gave us all another long look as though preparing us for what he was about to say. “We believe there are Outliers who live in the Quag,” said Thansius. “We believe that they have taken Quentin Herms.”
Outliers? Outliers? What were Outliers? I looked around and found John’s wide, scared eyes on me. He mouthed the word Outliers?
I shook my head and refocused on Thansius. Outliers? What rubbish was this?
Thansius drew a long breath and said, “These creatures walk on two legs and we believe that they can control the minds of Wugmorts and make them do their bidding.”
Every Wug in Steeples turned and looked at his neighbor. Even I felt a chill along my spine. I suddenly realized that while it was true I had seen Quentin run into the Quag, I didn’t know what had happened to him after that.
Thansius continued. “We believe that these Outliers are planning to invade Wormwood.”
If Thansius had intended to incite a panic, he did not fail.
Wugs jumped to their feet. Youngs and very youngs started yelling and crying. Females clutched the tiniest Wugs to their breasts. Shouts and gesticulations and feet stomping sounded throughout. I had never seen Steeples so chaotic. I glanced up at Ezekiel and saw the deep resentment on his features at these outbursts in his sacred domain.
Thansius’s voice boomed so loud I thought the multicolored windows might break under the strain of holding it in. “Enough!”
Every Wug, even the very youngs, grew quiet.
Thansius’s gaze was deadly stern now. I had never seen him like this. I had forgotten all about Quentin Herms. I was just concerned about being invaded by the Outliers, whoever the Hel they were.
He said, “As you know, long, long ago there took place the Battle of the Beasts here.” We all nodded. Thansius continued. “Our ancestors defeated, at terrible cost, an attack from the beasts that made their home in the Quag. Many Wugmorts were killed valiantly defending their own home. Ever since that time, the beasts have remained, in large measure, within the confines of the Quag.”
Thansius let this sink in and then continued. “It has been an uneasy balance at times, but a balance nonetheless. Now, however, I’m afraid that delicate balance has been upset by the emergence of the Outliers. We must take steps to protect ourselves from them.”
A Wug called out, “But whence did they come, Thansius, these bloody Outliers?”
Thansius said, “We have every reason to believe that they have been spawned by the unspeakable physical intermingling of vile beasts and other hideous creatures in the Quag, resulting in specimens of complete horror and depravity.”
If he thought that would keep us calm, Thansius had seriously overestimated our capacity for terror. More shouts instantly started up. Feet stamped the floor. Young Wugs wailed. Mothers clutched their very youngs and screamed. My heart was beating so hard I thought I could see my shirt moving.
Thansius shouted “Enough!” once more and we calmed, although this time it took nearly a sliver to do so. He said, “We have a plan to protect ourselves. And it will involve each and every one of you.” He pointed at us for emphasis. Then he paused again, apparently to gather his strength. “We are going to build a wall between the Quag and us, covering every foot of our border. This and only this will keep us safe. All workers without exception, from the Mills, the Tillers, Stacks especially” — here he looked at me — “will be employed to build it. We do not know how much time we have. While the Wall is being constructed, we will take precautionary measures, which will include armed patrols.” He paused and then delivered the next giant morta blast right into our heads. “But there is every possibility that Herms is not the only Wugmort who has been forced to work with the Outliers.”
Once more, every Wug turned and looked at every other Wug. Their suspicious glances were clear enough.
“How do we know they ain’t about us already, these Outliers?” yelled one old Wug named Tigris Tellus.
“They are not,” said Thansius firmly. “At least not yet.”
“But how do we know?” barked a white-faced Tellus, holding his chest and sucking in one scared breath after another. He seemed suddenly to realize to whom he had raised his voice. He clutched his hat and wheezed, “Beggin’ your pardon o’course, Thansius, sir.”
However, shouts similar to Tellus’s outburst went up. The crowd threatened to get completely out of control. I believed we were one punch or a single accusatory word from a riot.
Thansius held up his hands. “Please, fellow Wugmorts. Let me explain. Please. Quiet down.” But there was no quieting us down. Not until it happened.
“We do know,” said a firm voice booming above all others.
All Wugs turned their heads to her.
Morrigone was standing now, her gaze not on Thansius but on all of us.
“We do know,” she said again. She seemed to look us over one by one. “As all of you know I have been given a gift. This gift has allowed me to see the fate of Quentin Herms. He broke the law and ventured into the Quag, and that is where the Outliers took him. They plucked out his eye and made him tell them certain things of Wormwood and of Wugmorts. After that I saw no more of his fate. But from what we found left of him it is clear that Herms is now dead. My gift has also given me the vision of what we must do to protect ourselves from them. And we will do so. We must never let them take Wormwood from us. It’s all we have.”
I was holding my breath. Along with every other Wug.
We all released our collective breaths at the same time and it turned into a cheer.
Morrigone raised her fist to the beautiful Steeples ceiling. “For Wormwood.”
“For Wormwood,” we all cheered back.
And despite all my misgivings, I was among the loudest.
TREDECIM: Morrigone Calls
OUTSIDE STEEPLES, I saw Cletus Loon and two of his male Wug chums taunting Delph, making moronic faces and talking in the halting way he does.
“D-D-Delph s-s-smelts,” cried out one of the gits.
Cletus said, “Seen better-looking faces on the back of a creta.”
Duf roared, “Get away from here, you heathens. Right outside Steeples no less. Bloody Alvis Alcumus turning in his box, no doubt. Har!”
He grabbed Delph’s arm and pulled him along.
I just happened to walk next to Cletus, and my foot just happened to reach out and trip him. He fell facedown in the dirt. When he rolled over and tried to get up, I put one of my boots squarely on his chest and held him down.
“You try that again, Cletus Loon, my boot will end up in a place the light never sees.” I removed my boot and walked on. He and his mates raced past, calling me names so bad that I finally had to cover John’s ears.
It had been hot in Steeples, but the air outside was cool and damp. I even shivered as we walked along. I took John to Learning and then worked all light at Stacks. It was a curious light for all Stackers. We did our jobs, but no one’s mind, I could tell, was on their tasks. At mid-light meal in the common room, all the discussion was focused of course on the Outliers. I said nothing and listened a great deal. To a Wug, they were all behind Morrigone and the plan to build the Wall. While I had doubts, Morrigone had made a convincing case for protecting ourselves.
When John and I walked to our digs after Learning, the Loons were holding what looked like a war meeting at the table in the main room. Cacus had a knife lying close to hand. Cletus was eyeing it greedily, and then he glanced venomously at me.
As we passed by him, I made a show of taking my cutting knife from my pocket and examining its sharpness. And then I wielded it expertly, making tricky maneuvers with the blade and tossing and catching it in a blur of speed. Then I tossed it ten feet, point first into the wall. As I wrenched it free, I glanced over and caught him watching me, wide-eyed.