While I put my knife away, I noticed something was off. There was no smell of food cooking. And there was no heat coming from the kitchen.
“Aren’t we having a night meal?” I asked.
Loon looked at me like I was gonked. “After what we bloody heard this light at Steeples? Outliers coming to kill us? Eat our young? Who can think of food at a time like this, eh, you prat?”
“I can,” I exclaimed as my belly gave a painful rumble. “We can hardly put up a fight against the Outliers if our bellies are empty.” I looked at Cletus and saw the crumbs of bread on his lip and a smear of what looked to be chicken grease on his chin.
“And it looks like you lot ate,” I said angrily.
Hestia started to rise. I was sure she was going to go to the kitchen to make us a meal. But Loon put a restraining hand on her arm. “You sit, female. Now.”
She sat, not looking at me.
I glared at Loon and Cletus for a half sliver longer and then led John back outside, slamming the door after us. On the cobblestone, other Wugs were standing around talking in small groups. John and I found a private spot and sat down. It was raw and clammy out, and a chill settled in my weary bones as if they were being immersed in cold water.
John said, “Outliers?”
I nodded.
John rested his chin on his bony knees. “I’m scared, Vega.”
I put an arm around his shoulders. “Me too. But being scared and being paralyzed are two different things. If we work together, we’ll be okay. The Outliers will not get to us.”
I pulled my tin box from my cloak and opened it. Inside was some food I had bartered for earlier. It was meant to be for next light meal, but that wouldn’t work now. “Eat what you want, John,” I said.
“What about you?”
“I had my meal at Stacks, so I’m not really hungry. Go on.”
This was a lie but there was hardly enough food for him.
I stiffened when I saw the carriage coming. It stopped right where we sat. Despite the chill, the flanks of the sleps were heavy with sweat. Bogle must have pushed them hard. The door opened and I expected to see Thansius step out. Instead, it was Morrigone.
John and I hastily stood. It seemed disrespectful to sit in her presence. Over her white robe she wore a red cloak that very nearly matched her hair. Blood on blood, I thought. She looked at me and then at John and then down at the insignificant meal in my tin box. When she looked back up, her cheeks were tinged with pink.
“Would you like to come and take supper with me at my home?”
John simply gaped at her. I did likewise.
“Come, it would be both my desire and privilege.” She held open the carriage door and motioned for us to step inside. As we did, I caught the gaze of the many Wugs who were watching us, openmouthed. That included all the Loons, who had come outside. Cletus Loon, in particular, shot a look of pure malice at me.
We already had been inside this carriage once before with Thansius, but our wonderment was still freshly obvious as we gazed at the rich trappings.
Morrigone smiled and said, “It is quite beautiful, isn’t it?”
Bogle whipped up the sleps and off we went. We had never actually traveled in the carriage: We had merely sat in it. I was surprised at how fast and smooth the ride was. I looked out at the lantern-lit windows of Wormwood rushing by as the sleps moved in perfect synchronicity with one another.
Morrigone was very private, and no Wug knew very much about her, but I knew her home was set off the road north of Wormwood proper.
The carriage rounded one last bend, where the road became crushed gravel, and a sliver later there appeared the set of massive metal gates. These parted on their own somehow, and the carriage swept through. All I could see on the wrought iron gates was the letter M.
When I turned back, Morrigone was watching me closely.
“I’ve seen where you live,” I said haltingly. “But just through the gates as I was passing by. It’s very beautiful.”
She continued to watch me closely. “When you were a very young?” she asked.
I nodded. “I was with my father.”
She looked relieved for some reason and nodded. “Thank you. It is a wonderful place to live.” She glanced over at John, who was scrunched so far down in the corner of the carriage as to have almost become part of the cushioned seat. “The time grows late,” she said. “We will have our meal and then we can talk through matters.”
I gaped. What matters needed talking through with Wugs like us?
The carriage stopped and she reached across and opened the door. She stepped out first and we followed, with me last. I actually had to pull John up and push him out.
The house itself was large and magnificent. Compared to what else was in Wormwood, it was like a crystal vase set among rubbish. It was made of stone and brick and timber but it didn’t look jumbled; it looked as though there could be no more perfect way to meld these disparate elements together. The front door was large and made of wood as thick as the width of my hand. As we neared it, the door opened. I was startled by this occurrence, although the heavy gates had done the same.
And then I saw a Wug revealed behind the door. I had glimpsed him once before on the cobblestones of Wormwood, although I didn’t know his name. He bowed to Morrigone and then led us down a long hallway illuminated by torches set in bronzed holders. There were large paintings on the wall. And a looking glass hung there as well. The wooden frame was of creatures twisted into different shapes.
Then I noticed a pair of silver candleholders on the wall.
“I worked on those at Stacks,” I exclaimed.
She nodded. “I know you did. They are extraordinarily lovely. One of my prized possessions.”
I beamed at this praise as we continued down the hall.
My feet sank into thick rugs awash in lovely colors. We passed several rooms, including one that I could see through the open doorway. This was obviously the library since it had books from the floor to the ceiling; a fire burned in a massive stone fireplace. It had a large chimneypiece fashioned from what I knew to be marble. A suit of dark armor taller than I was stood next to the door to this room. Morrigone, I realized, was minted indeed.
As I looked at the armor, I said, “Will we need to start making these in preparation for being invaded by the Outliers?”
She gazed at me with far more scrutiny than the query probably deserved. For my part, I kept my features unreadable.
“I think our plans for the Wall will be sufficient, Vega, but I rule nothing out.”
As we reached the end of the hall, Morrigone, her gaze sweeping briefly over our less-than-clean appearances, said, “William will show you where you can, um, tidy up a bit before we take our meal?”
William was obviously the Wug escorting us. Short and amply fed, and wearing overly clean clothes, with skin that was as smooth and pristine as his garments, he motioned for us to follow him as Morrigone set off down another passageway.
William showed us to a door. I stared blankly at it, not knowing what to do. He opened it and said, “Hot water tap on the left, cold water tap on the right. Matters of a personal nature right where it looks to be,” he added, pointing at the device set against one wall. “Meal is awaiting, so no loitering about.” Then he gave us each a shove into the room and closed the door behind us.
The room was small and well illuminated. There was a white bowl with pipes against one wall. Against another wall was the toilet where you could sit down or stand up to do your personal business, as William had said.