The youngs brought food and water to the workers and did some of the tasks that required nimble fingers instead of muscled arms. The females kept the stoves burning and the meals coming for the hungry Wugs. All of us were driven to work hard by the idea that Outliers of incomprehensible evil might turn up any sliver and devour the entire village. And every seventh light we would go to Steeples because it was now required. Ezekiel warned us in a booming voice filled with fiery brimstone that to not complete the Wall in the shortest possible time would spell our absolute doom, and the bones of our youngs would reside in the bellies of the evil Outliers.
I’m sure that provided much-needed pious comfort and solace for many a Wug’s frazzled nerves. I had never been at war, but I could sense that that’s what Wormwood was becoming: a place waiting to be struck by the enemy. It gave me a better understanding of my ancestors who had lived during the Battle of the Beasts.
I set about my work with great zeal. Perhaps it was to show Morrigone that John was not the only capable member of the Jane family. Maybe it was to demonstrate to myself that I had some worth to Wormwood.
I rose before first light most times and was on my way to my tree with my tin of food slivers after eating a morsel or two at the Loons. I suppose as some sort of token of gratitude for John going to live with Morrigone, the Loons had been instructed by Morrigone to increase my ration portions, including a first meal.
“More food for the likes-a you and why’s that, I ask,” Cletus Loon had barked at me one night as I was heading up to my cot. “We males are out there killing ourselves felling them trees. And you’re at Stacks probably skiving off most of the time. ’Tain’t fair. Wugs are brassed off, I can tell you that.”
“I don’t skip work at Stacks. Do you really think Domitar would allow that?” I added with a malicious smile, “And I thought you were patrolling with your morta, shooting little, tiny quail before they can swoop down and get you.”
“I work the trees at light and they expect me to patrol at night,” he snapped.
“Well, it’s good to keep busy,” I told him and then headed up the stairs.
I didn’t care about the fairness of the extra ration. I had been hungry for most of my sessions. I was not going to feel bad for a couple more mouthfuls of something in my belly.
TWENTY LIGHTS AFTER John had gone to live with Morrigone, I arrived very early at my tree. Our parting had been sad for both of us. John clearly had mixed feelings. What Wug wouldn’t want to live like Morrigone? Plenty to eat, a comfy, clean place in which to live, books that he could read until his eyes and brain could take in no more. And to have a mentor like Morrigone?
Yet I knew that John did not want to leave me. It wasn’t just the tears he spilled and the soft cries he let escape as Morrigone escorted him out to the carriage. It was the look on his face that spoke loudest to me. My brother loved me and I loved him and that was really all there was to it. But go he did. He had no choice.
On my first visit to John, he hadn’t changed all that much. Well, he was scrubbed clean and his clothes were new and his body looked a bit more filled out. He had been both sad that we had parted and thrilled with the potential of his new life. John confirmed that the pulley and digging machine were of his invention. I marveled at how quickly he had been able to do such a thing. He had shyly accepted my praise, which made me even prouder of him. As I was leaving, he gave me a crushing hug. I finally had to gently pry myself free.
At my second visit seven lights later, a definite change had taken place. John was far less sad; his excitement about his new life and his important work for Wormwood was now paramount. He wore his new clothes easily and didn’t seem the least bit awed by his luxurious surroundings. Morrigone fed me, but she didn’t leave me and John alone this time. When I took my leave, John gave me a brief hug and then bounded up the stairs to his room to, as he said, “Finish up some important work on the Wall.”
As Morrigone opened the front door for me, she said, “He is thriving. I hope you can see that.”
“I can,” I had said.
“Be happy for him, Vega.”
“I am happy for him,” I had replied truthfully.
She looked me over and then held out a handful of coins. “Please take these.”
“Why? I have done nothing to earn them.”
“As a means of thanking you for allowing John to come and live with me.”
I had looked at the small pile of coins. Part of me wanted to snatch them out of her hand. “No thanks,” I had said, and then turned and walked back to the Loons.
I now looked down from my high perch in my tree. It was still dark technically, although the last section of night always held edges of light creeping in. I gazed around. I had not seen any patrols on my way here and I strongly suspected that many Wugs were unable to carry out both hauling trees during light and acting as Carbineers at night. They simply wouldn’t have the energy.
Thus, I felt it was as good a time as any. I backed up to the very end of my boards, took off running and leapt into the sky. The air enveloped me as I soared upward. I flew straight for a few yards and then I did a barrel roll, not once but three times, making myself a bit dizzy in the process. Still, it felt wonderful. So free, unlike down on the ground where virtually every sliver of my time was dictated by others.
I had gotten to the point where I could look down while flying without going into a dive and crashing. It was as though Destin and I had reached an understanding. Maybe it could read minds, or at least my mind.
I landed smoothly and stood there for a sliver or two, breathing in the cool night air. It was hard for me to be without John. I had looked forward to waking him up. I enjoyed walking him to Learning, and then bringing him food when I picked him up after Stacks. Though it was not pleasant for either of us, the time we spent at the Care with our parents had been a significant part of our lives. But that part of my life was over and I could sense it would never return.
I heard it before I saw anything. Four legs, moving rapidly. But I was not afraid, not this time. I had Destin, so I could take to the sky in an instant. I was also unafraid for another reason. The footfalls were not those of a garm, a frek or an amaroc. They were light, barely making an impression on the ground. I stood there waiting.
It came around one tree, slowed and then stopped. Its haunches went up and its long nose came down close to the dirt. I took a few halting steps forward, hardly able to believe my eyes. It rose up and then sat back on its tail.
“Harry?” I said.
But of course it was not Harry. Many sessions ago, I’d had a canine I had instantly loved. I called him Harry because he was hairy. He was not too big and not too small, with beautifully soft dark eyes topped by long eyelashes, and a mingling of brown, white and rust fur. He walked into my life one light and instantly loved me with all his heart. He trusted me. And I missed him terribly.
I was also the reason Harry was dead. I had walked too close to the edge of the Quag with him, and a garm had come after me. Harry had gotten in between us, and the garm had killed him as Harry defended me and gave me time to escape. I will never forget the image of my dead Harry in that foul creature’s jaws as it carried my beloved canine into the Quag to devour. Even now, as I recalled this terrible memory, tears filled my eyes. When Harry had left me that light, I had screamed and screamed and cried more tears than I could have thought possible. It had been my job to take care of Harry and I had let him down, costing my canine his life. I would never forgive myself for it. I would have done anything to bring Harry back, though I knew that was not possible. Death was irreversible.