I walked up to a marble-topped counter where a short, prim-looking female stood dressed in a gray tunic, her white hair pulled so tightly into a bun that her eyes were catlike. She turned her nose up at me and said in an officious voice, “Can I help you?”
“I hope so,” I said. “Is Thansius here?”
Her nose turned even more upward so I could actually see down both nostrils.
“Thansius? You are seeking Thansius?” she said imperiously.
Her tone implied that I might as well be here for a consult with the Noc.
“Yes, I am.”
“And how are you called?” she asked in a perfunctory voice.
“I am called Vega Jane.”
There was a flicker across her face that indicated she recognized my name.
She said in a friendlier tone, “Course you are. The Duelum.” Her gaze ran over my battered features and she clucked in pity. “Oh my Steeples, your poor face. I’ve seen you around Wormwood, come to think of it. And you were so pretty too. So sad.”
A mixed compliment if ever I’d heard one. “Thanks,” I mumbled in reply. “So is Thansius in?”
She instantly looked more guarded. “And why do you need to speak with him?”
“A personal matter. As you know, my brother is a special assistant —”
Her lips formed a frown. “I know all about young John Jane, thank you very much.” She pondered my request. “Half a mo’,” she said and slipped out from behind the counter. I watched her scuttle off down the hall, twice casting backward glances at me.
I waited patiently for her return. I looked up at a painting of our founder, Alvis Alcumus, which hung over the doorway. He looked kind and scholarly, but there was a dreamy look in his eyes too, which I found interesting. His beard was so long it rested on his chest. I wondered where he had come from to found Wormwood. Through the Quag? Or did the Quag not exist back then? Or had he sprouted up from the dirt like a mushroom? Or was he the figment of some Wug’s imagination? I was beginning to think that our history was far more fiction than fact.
I wandered over to the massive paintings on the long walls that made up a side hall of the building. They were mostly scenes of warfare involving beasts and Wugs outfitted in armor. This must be the Battle of the Beasts that we had been taught at Learning. How our ancestors had defeated the creatures and driven them back into the Quag was the stuff of Wormwood legend.
As I grew closer to one of the paintings, I saw a scene depicted that was very familiar to me. It was a warrior in chain mail on a slep, carrying a golden spear and leaping over something. I observed the silver glove that the warrior wore on the right hand. I examined the spear and saw that it was identical to the one that was, right this instant — albeit in reduced form — residing in my pocket. The warrior was undoubtedly the female who had expired on the battlefield, but not before bequeathing to me the Elemental.
Yet the thing she was leaping over was a small rock. Such an obstacle would not require a leap at all. And the beast she was after was a frek. There had been no freks on the battlefield that light. She had thrown her spear, destroyed a charging male on a flying steed, leapt over me and soared into the air when her slep sprouted wings, in order to do battle in the sky with another figure on a giant adar. I knew I had seen all this. I could never forget it.
I realized that this painting could have been about a battle where I had not been present at all. But everything else was so exactly as I remembered it that I did not think this was the case. What had been erased was myself and the male on the flying steed, with the frek added in its stead. And the shield of the warrior was down when I clearly remembered she had raised it, allowing me to see that she was a female. Perhaps Morrigone did not want others to make the connection that her ancestor had been such a warrior. And there were certainly no colossals in the painting because to all Wugs except me, there were no such things as colossals.
I stepped back from the painting when I heard rapid footsteps coming down the hall. The prim Wug was returning, her face a bit flushed, I thought.
“Thansius will see you,” she said breathlessly, her eyes bulging at this prospect. “By all merciful Steeples, he will see you right this sliver.”
“Is that unusual?” I said.
“No, not a’tall. If you think asking an amaroc over for tea and cookies is usual.”
She led me down the hall to a large metal door that stood at the end. She timidly knocked and a loud “Enter” was heard. She opened the door, pushed me through, slammed the portal shut, and I could hear her heels clickety-clacking back down the marble floor.
A bit breathless, I turned and took in the large room filled with innumerable objects. Then my gaze fixed on the large Wug sitting behind a desk that seemed too small by half for him or this room. Thansius rose and smiled at me.
“Vega, please come and sit.”
I came forward with as much confidence as I could muster, and I had to delve awfully deep to find any. I sat in a fragile-looking chair opposite his desk. I heard it creak when I placed my full weight on it and I was terrified it would collapse. But it held firm and I relaxed.
Thansius had resumed his seat and was staring at me expectantly. His desk was littered with letters, rolled scrolls, reports and Wall plans, along with blank official parchment of Council. Before I could speak, he said, “I don’t remember you breaking your nose in the Duelum.”
“Stacks,” I said casually. “Bit careless. It’s healing. Just takes time.” I self-consciously rubbed at the black eye the break had given me. My other eye was still swollen, though it too had turned black.
“I see,” he replied in a way that told me he knew I was telling an untruth.
I cleared my throat and said, “I won my bout this light.”
He held up a sheet of parchment from the piles on his desk. “I know you did. The report came a sliver after you so quickly subdued Mr. Dodgson. That is quite an achievement. He’s strong and has good technique. But if he has a weakness —”
“He’s too conceited to admit he has weaknesses on which he should improve.”
Thansius nodded thoughtfully. “Precisely.”
“Well, maybe it’s harder for near-perfect Wugs to acknowledge they have problems. Me, I have so many shortcomings, I try to work on them all the time.”
Thansius smiled. “I think that would be a good lesson for us all, perfect or not.”
“I bet on myself to win,” I said, rattling the coins in my pocket.
“The laws of Council forbid my wagering on any Duelum. However, if I were to have a flutter, I would have fluttered on you, Vega.”
“Why?” I asked, suddenly very interested in his answer. “Dodgson was a formidable and experienced opponent.”
His eyes narrowed, but his smile remained. “There is strength here,” he replied as he held up a massive arm and flexed. I saw a muscle pull hard against the confines of his robes. “And there is strength here,” he continued, touching his chest. “You have a great deal of strength, I think, here, which is where true power resides.”
I said nothing but continued to stare at him curiously.
He added, “One more victory and you battle for the right to be champion.”
“And a thousand coins,” I added.
He waved his hand dismissively. “What does coin really have to do with it? I fought in many Duelums and never was coin part of the prize. I think —”