I touched my tree’s bark and then looked at the boards I had nailed into it leading up to my planks. How could I have nailed into it if it were petrified? I looked at Thansius and was about to ask this very query when he said, “It is quite a magnificent tree, Vega. It would have been a terrible shame to see it perish.”
In his features I could tell that he wasn’t talking only about my tree. He was also referring to me.
I wanted to tell Thansius that I was not a traitor and that I never would have used the map to help anything that wanted to hurt Wormwood. But he had already turned away and walked off. I watched him until I could no longer see him. I turned to my tree and gave it a hug.
I WORKED AT Stacks all light long, and after finishing, I helped transport a shipment of straps by a wagon pulled by two cretas to the section of the Wall that was currently being completed. As I helped lift the heavy straps off, I was thinking this was a great way for me to build up my strength — if I didn’t die of exhaustion first.
Even I had to admit, the Wall was quite a feat of Wug craftsmanship and engineering. I did a count and there were two hundred Wugs currently working on this section. The construction was run in shifts all light and night, with the darkness illuminated by lanterns and torches so Wugs could see what they were doing. Yet there had already been injuries, some minor, others serious. One Wug had even died when he had fallen off the top of a Wall section and landed on his head, breaking his neck. He’d been buried in a special section of the Hallowed Ground now reserved for Wugs who gave their life for the Wall. All Wugs were praying there would be no more such sacrifices and that section would remain fixed forever at one grave.
As I finished unloading the straps, I stayed to look around. The Wall rose up well over thirty feet. The timbers were thick, stripped of their bark, planed and mitered. Straps that I had finished were wound around the logs and locked down tightly through the punch holes, giving the wood a strength and stability it would not otherwise have had.
The guard towers at this section were unfinished, but I could see where the Wugs with mortas would stand looking for Outliers, ostensibly. Though I now envisioned these same Wugs shooting down other Wugs trying to get over the Wall. The moats were dug but not yet filled in with water. They would be filled last, I reasoned, so the workers wouldn’t get mired in the muck.
The activity was frenetic, but seemed well coordinated, with focused Wugs marching here and there with tools and materials. As I continued to gaze around, I spotted John on a raised platform with lit torches all around, overseeing the construction. Next to him were three members of Council and two other Wugs I knew were good at building things.
I had a notion to go over and speak to John but then thought better of it. What did I have to say to him that I had not already said? It was startling to me how quickly my many sessions with John had been efficiently overridden by his time under Morrigone’s wing. Or claw, more like it. And yet she had saved my life. I was terribly conflicted about her. Was she my ally or not?
I walked over to the large holes dug for the water and gazed down at them. Another Wug came up to me, carrying some tools.
“When will the water be piped in here?” I asked.
He looked down at the hole. “They say in six more lights and nights, but I don’t see how. We’re behind schedule.”
John’s comment came back to me about the timetable. “It seems that Wugs are working as hard as they can,” I said.
“Tell that to them,” said the Wug, motioning to the platform where John was. The Wug looked back at me. “’Tis your brother, ain’t he?”
“He is.”
The Wug stared hard at me. “Then you have my pity.”
As he started to walk off, I grabbed his arm. “What do you mean by that?”
“Only that he works us harder every light and night. It don’t matter to him how tired or sick we are or that our families need us. He flat-out don’t care, does he?”
“I thought he was just working on the plans?”
The Wug shook his head. “For a young, he acts very old. And he’s mean. I know you’re family and all, but that’s just how I feel and I don’t care who knows.”
Scowling, he stalked off leaving me staring at the ground, thinking many things and none of them pleasant. I glanced back over at John, my spirits about as low as they could go. Even as I watched, he started pointing and yelling at a group of Wugs who were struggling with a heavy timber. John rushed down to them and started gesticulating at them. The Wugs looked stonily at him, any response they might have had no doubt muted by the large Wugs armed with mortas who stood behind John.
I walked up to John, who was still raging at the Wugs standing there with the log balanced precariously over their weary shoulders. I said, “Why don’t you let them put it down, John, while you tell them what you want?”
He turned to me, an expression of great annoyance on his face. At first, I didn’t think he even recognized me.
“We don’t have time for that!” he exclaimed. “We’re already behind this light, and night crew will be here in slivers.”
“And these Wugs have been working hard all light. You’ll be even more behind schedule if Wugs start getting sick or injured from being overworked.”
“It is not your place to give orders,” he said, gazing stonily at me.
“Maybe it isn’t. But I’m the only family you have left.”
He gave me a condescending look. “Have you forgotten the Care?”
I knew I shouldn’t do it, but at this point I was no longer concerned about John’s feelings. Besides, I wasn’t sure he had any left. And I was destined to either get my brains bashed in fighting in the Duelum or die in Valhall.
“As I said, I’m the only family you have. There is no one you know left at the Care. I thought Morrigone would have told you by now. Our parents both suffered Events. There is of course nothing left of them.”
With that I turned on my heel and marched away.
I didn’t care, I just really didn’t.
But, as it turned out, I should have.
For a lot of reasons.
TRIGINTA TRES: Foes United
THE NEXT FEW lights and nights followed a uniform pattern. I worked all light at Stacks and then on the Wall. After that, Delph and I practiced my Duelum skills late into the night. He had put together a long pole with the ends weighted by bundles of rocks. He had me lift that over my head and put it on my shoulders and squat down to build up my upper and lower body. My limbs hurt so badly the next light, I cried out in pain after I tried to get off my cot. But I kept doing it. Wanting to live is a great motivator.
At first we were at his digs, then we moved to the forest and sometimes we fought inside my digs, occasionally knocking over my few pieces of furniture and scaring Harry Two half to death.
On the seventh light after Thansius had made his announcement about the Duelum, I was passing Cletus Loon and his git chums on the way to my digs after work. I stopped when Loon stepped in front of me while his chums made a crude circle around me. Harry Two started growling and the hair on his back rose as they closed in on us. I patted Harry Two on the head and told him it was okay.
Cletus said, “So you have to fight in the Duelum or else you’ll rot in Valhall for being a traitor.”
I stood there with as bored a look on my face as I could manage. Even his simple mind finally seemed to grasp that he would either have to say something else or shove off.
Cletus finally said, “You know what I wish, Vega?”