Krone stared at me and then Morrigone. He bowed curtly. “As you wish, Madame Morrigone. But I trust this will be followed up appropriately.” Then he turned and marched swiftly away.
Morrigone waited until he was out of sight before turning to me.
I started to say something, but she held up her hand. “No, Vega, I do not need to hear anything. I will speak to Non. He will not refer charges.” Her gaze dipped to my hand. I looked down and saw that it was swollen and cut from where I had struck Non. I hastily slipped it into my pocket.
“I am sure you had good reason,” said Morrigone quietly. Then she added, in a more heated tone, “For Non is a git.”
I was about to smile when I found her piercing gaze upon me. Neither of us spoke for at least a sliver.
She finally said, “I know there has been much change in your life, and that this change has been difficult.”
“Do you know what could have happened to my parents?” I blurted out.
“I could not possibly know, Vega, since I, unlike you, was not there.”
This statement split us like a wall of blood.
“What exactly did you see, Vega?”
“I saw nothing,” I lied. “I went to visit my parents.”
“At night?” she said sharply.
“Yes. I wanted to see them. I … I was … sad.”
“And?” she said expectantly.
“And when I got there the room was empty. I ran outside and that’s where Non grabbed me and pushed me down. I struck him to defend myself.”
She considered all this and then said, “I ask you not to tell your brother about your parents, Vega.”
“What?” I said, gaping at her. “He has to know.”
“His knowing of their disappearance cannot help in any way. And it will distract him from his duties on the Wall.”
“His duties on the Wall?” I cried out. “So we keep him ignorant of his mother and father being gone?”
“I can assure you that he is indispensible. I have given instructions to Krone and others on Council to say nothing. And all Wugs involved at the Care have been similarly cautioned. I would ask that you keep this information to yourself as well. Please.”
Something struck me. “But if you’ve done all that, you knew that they had disappeared before Krone told you.”
She looked a bit chagrined that I had deduced this, which boosted my spirits just a bit.
“It is my job to know such things, Vega. Will you not tell him?”
I couldn’t say anything for a sliver while she and I stared at each other over the width of my doorway.
Finally, I nodded my head. “I won’t tell him.”
Her next words truly astonished me.
“I admire you, Vega. I really do. I can even say that I envy you.”
“What?” I said. “Envy me? But you have so much. And I have nothing.”
She said wistfully, “I have things, possessions only. You have nerve and courage, and you accept and take risks like no other Wug I know. All these things come from within you, which is the most important place of all.”
I stared at her blankly. She was both looking at me and not looking at me. As though her words were directed at a distant place that only she could see.
Then her gaze settled squarely on me. “You are sure your parents were gone when you arrived at the Care?”
I nodded my head, not confident of my tongue to deliver another lie in a convincing way.
She nodded, sighed and looked away. “I see.”
And I could tell that she did see, quite a lot, actually.
She said, “I hope, after all this darkness, that good fortune shines on you, Vega, indeed I do.”
Then she turned and walked away.
I watched her until she disappeared from view. Then I looked to the sky. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe to find answers I could never hope to discover down here.
VIGINTI UNUS: Eon and the Hole
I CONTINUED ON TO Stacks, walking, not flying. I didn’t care if I was one or even ten slivers late. If Morrigone was right, it seemed that I would stay out of Valhall. But I didn’t really care about that. My parents were gone. They had left wrapped in a ball of flames. I had never seen anything like that in all my sessions. I was now really questioning who I was. And who they were. And what really was this place I called home. I suddenly felt that nothing about anything around me was true.
I had promised Morrigone that I would not tell John, that I would not tell anyone. Thus I had no one to help me with the grief and the confusion I was feeling.
At my table I took up the first strap that I would work on this light. It was many feet in length, very rough, and its edges would slice through bark, leather and certainly skin. My job was to smooth out the roughness. Then I would work in holes toward the ends of the metal. That would allow tethers to be used to hold both ends together after the straps were wrapped around a stack of planed timbers. It was difficult, tedious work and I found that even with my thick gloves on, my hands became cut and scarred as the strap’s edges on more than one occasion tore through the glove’s leather and reached my skin.
Roman Picus’s taunting words came back to me. How I would never amount to much. How Stacks was all I would ever have in the way of accomplishments. How John had so much more potential than I. It seemed a trivial, even absurd grievance on my part after what had happened last night with my parents. But I apparently could not will my mind to focus solely on that. Emotions were difficult things to corral, like a herd of cretas with a fierce desire for freedom.
I sanded down the strap’s edges and smoothed out the surfaces. I created holes near the two ends of the strap, using my drill punch, hammer and other tools. I knew tethers would be inserted in the holes to tie the ends together for stability. How it would all come together to complete the Wall, though, I didn’t know. I was sure no Wugs knew except for a very few like Thansius and Morrigone. And now John.
During my meal break, I went outside and fetched a bowl of water for Harry Two from a nearby stream and then gave him a bit more food I had managed to scavenge, which he wolfed down. I sat on the ground next to him and stared up at Stacks. It was a colossal building and I had only seen a small part of it in my two sessions here. Yet I wagered I had probably also seen more of it than any other Wug who had ever labored here. I counted off the turrets and towers and floors and it suddenly struck me that it was far taller than simply two stories. This was puzzling because when I had headed up the stairs that night, they ended at the second floor. There were no other stairs. But that wasn’t exactly right. There were no other stairs that I could see.
As I passed back through the double doors, Domitar barred my way. He did not smell of flame water this light. His cloak was reasonably clean and his eyes were clear, with not a hint of the redness the foul drink inspired.
“Just feeding Harry Two. Don’t worry. I’ll make my work this light. In some ways, the straps are easier than the pretty things.”
“Well, there will be many of them,” he said. “Very, very many, in fact.”
“Perhaps you need to hire another Finisher, then,” I said. “To replace Herms.”
“There will be no other Finishers,” he snarled.
“Well, if that’s true, a raise in pay would be nice.”
“This work is for all of Wormwood. You should be willing to do it for free.”
“So are you forfeiting your wages, Domitar?”
“You will learn your place one light, female.”
“I hope so,” I said. Under my breath I muttered, “So long as it’s not this place.”
“You were nearly late this light,” he noted harshly.