Krone had let go of me when Thansius ordered him to, but he still held up my sleeve.
Krone said, “Unless I am much mistaken, fellow members of Council, what I perceive on this female’s arm is nothing less than a map of the Quag.”
I wanted to yell back at him and ask how he knew it was the Quag, but I was struck dumb by the looks on the faces of Council. Thansius alone held me spellbound. He slowly walked over to me and looked down my arm. He gently pulled up my other sleeve and looked there as well.
“Are there any other marks on you, Vega, other than these?” His voice was filled with disappointment and, even worse, betrayal.
My eyes clouding with tears, I found I could not lie. “On my belly and legs.”
“And where did you come by them?”
I looked at Morrigone. She had not taken her eyes off the marks. Her expression of profound surprise was crushing to me.
“Quentin Herms left them on parchment for me,” I said. “Before he disappeared.”
“And did he tell you it was a way through the Quag?”
“In a way, yes.”
“And where is this parchment now?”
“I burned it.”
Krone broke in, “But not before copying the marks on her skin. And why do that if she were not planning to use it somehow, and no doubt against her fellow Wugmorts.”
“I was not,” I cried out. “I was never intending to use it at all.”
“Then why keep it on your skin?”
This query was from Morrigone. She was now looking at me.
I forced myself to meet her gaze. And in holding that gaze, I decided to tell the truth. “Because it showed a way to a place other than here.”
“A confession,” shouted Krone. “The female has as good as told us she is working with the Outliers.”
Morrigone was still staring at me, great sadness in her eyes. She looked at Thansius and said, “I believe that we have heard all that is necessary. We shall deliberate and then render our judgment.”
I wanted to scream at her not to do this. That I was innocent. That they needed to hear more from me. But I said nothing. I knew beyond all doubt that I could say nothing else that would matter to them now.
She looked at Krone. “But she will not be taken back to Valhall. She will be taken to her lodgings and a guard placed over her.”
Krone looked mortified at the idea. “She is a traitor. She will attempt to escape and thus avoid justice on this most serious matter. She has the map of the Quag on her. She will use it to —”
“To what, Krone?” interrupted Morrigone. “To go through the Quag? A fourteen-session-old Wug? She will be dead in two slivers. We all know what lies in there, Vega as well.” She looked at me when she said this. “And she has other reasons not to leave Wormwood. These she knows as well.”
Krone was about to say something, but Thansius forestalled another outburst.
“I am in agreement with Madame Morrigone. Vega will be taken to her lodgings and a guard placed there. However, before this is done, a female assistant to Council will see to … to the washing away of the marks on her … self.”
Krone said, “I want a guard with her every step of the way.”
Thansius looked like he wanted to strangle his colleague.
“I highly doubt Vega can escape from the Council building, Krone. But if you wish, you may go stand outside the door while the necessary, uh, organizing of the washing up is done.”
Krone looked very put off by this suggestion and made no indication that he would accept this offer.
Thansius walked back to the dais and used the hilt of an enormous jewel-encrusted sword lying there to smack the wood.
“Council will take up the matter of Vega Jane immediately.”
As I was led out, I looked back first at Thansius and then at Morrigone. Neither one of them would look at me.
My heart and spirits in my boots, I was led from the chamber and taken to a loo, where all the marks were washed off me with such energy that my skin was reddened and painful. But I didn’t utter a sound as the marks I had kept hidden for so long disappeared from my skin. Afterward, I was taken back to my lodgings, where a very happy Non stood guard outside my door.
Delph had brought Harry Two around to me, and my canine stayed right by my side.
It was quite dark now and I lay on my cot and wondered what my fate would be.
Would they execute me?
Would they place me back in Valhall? Perhaps for many sessions?
Would they let me go free?
But I kept coming back to: Would they execute me?
I had only witnessed one execution. It was when I was ten sessions old and a male had killed his female for no cause other than he was a vile Wug. It had been intentional, or so Council had found. This Wug had also nearly beaten his youngs to death and probably would have if other Wugs had not intervened. All of Wormwood was required to attend the execution, which had taken place in the village center.
He had been led up a short stack of steps to a platform, forced to kneel; a hood was placed over his head, which was set on a block of thick wood, and the executioner, himself hooded — but who I now strongly suspected was Ladon-Tosh — had raised his ax high and with one blow had cleanly severed the head from the rest of the Wug. It had dropped into a straw pouch set in front of the wooden block. The blood had poured down the steps and I thought poor John was going to faint. I had clutched my mother’s hand and felt sick. I had swayed on my feet, yet a great cheer had gone up from the crowd because justice had been served and a wicked Wug was no more.
Was that how my life was to end? With Ladon-Tosh separating my head from the rest of me? With Wugs cheering my bloody death?
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but it was impossible. Until I knew my fate, there would be no rest for me.
TRIGINTA: Do or Die
IT WAS THE first section of light when I heard the knock at the door. Despite my anxiety over my fate, I had finally fallen asleep. Harry Two started growling and sniffing at the door.
I staggered up, still half asleep, waves of cold dread making me feel unbalanced and sick to my stomach.
Did they carry out executions immediately after Council’s decision? Would I open the door to find Ladon-Tosh there to drag me to a newly constructed platform at the village center?
I opened the door.
It wasn’t Ladon-Tosh. It was Morrigone. She looked deadly pale and tired, her exhausted features neatly matching my own. Her cloak even had a few spots of dirt on the hem. I looked over her shoulder but did not see the carriage. She must have walked from the Council building to deliver the news.
“May I come in, Vega?”
I nodded and moved out of the way to allow her entry.
She sat, or rather fell, into one of the chairs. She stifled a yawn and rubbed at one of her eyes.
“You haven’t slept?” I said.
She slowly shook her head but didn’t really seem to have heard my query. She looked at Harry Two and held out a hand to him. He cautiously approached and allowed her to rub his ears.
“A fine canine,” she said.
“He would do anything for me,” I replied, sitting on my cot across from her. “Will he be denied that opportunity?” I asked cautiously.
She looked up. “You will not be executed, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said bluntly. “Krone fought long and hard all night on that point, but Thansius and I made Council see reason.”
“Why does Krone hate me so much? What have I ever done to him?”
“It’s not about you,” Morrigone said quietly. “Krone actually hated your grandfather.”
“What?” I gasped.
“It was before my time on Council of course, but as I told you before, my grandfather was Chief of Council back then. He resigned and Thansius took his place when my father suffered his Event….” Her voice drifted off; she sat there for a moment and then refocused. “Krone was only a mere assistant at the time, but his ambition was to be a full-fledged Council member. And I have no doubt he has his sights set on being chief when Thansius steps down.”