“And why did he go?”
“It was his destiny to do so,” Thansius said simply. “And please do not ask me more than that, because I will have no answer for you.”
I looked away, disappointed. “So what is Wormwood, then, Thansius? And please, don’t answer my query with a question or a riddle.”
He didn’t respond right away. When he did, his speech was slow and measured. “For most Wugs, Wormwood is their home, the only one they’ll ever have. For some of us, it is our home but not our destiny, like Virgil.” He gazed off for a sliver and then glanced back at me. “Was that too much of a riddle for you?”
“We have always been taught that this is all there is.”
He looked around. “Taught, perhaps. Yet that is not the same as belief or, more significantly, truth, is it?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not.”
He nodded, seemingly pleased that I understood the difference.
“Why do you stay here, then, Thansius? You are a mighty and special Wug. Surely your destiny cannot lie simply in Wormwood.”
“Oh, indeed I think that it does. And Wormwood is my home. Wugs, my brethren. Those concepts should never be taken lightly.”
“And what of the Outliers? The Wall?”
For the first time I could ever recall, Thansius, mighty Thansius, looked embarrassed, even ashamed.
He said, “There is a sense of duty sometimes, Vega, which compels even the most honest of Wugs to do things that lack that very honesty.”
“So it’s all a lie, then?”
“Lies are sometimes given for the very best of intentions.”
“Do you think that’s the case here?”
“On the surface, unequivocally yes. When one reaches more deeply?” He shook his head sadly. “Then it merely becomes an act of dishonesty for which there is no sound basis.”
“My grandfather once told me that the most bitterly awful place of all is one that Wugmorts don’t know is as wrong as wrong can possibly be.” I grew silent and looked at him questioningly.
Thansius studied his large, strong hands for a few moments before looking up at me. “I would say that your grandfather was a very wise Wug.” He rose. “And now duty calls and thus I must be off.”
At the door, he turned back. “Good luck, Vega, next light.” He paused and seemed to stare off for a moment before looking back at me. “And beyond. For I knew this time must come at some point.”
And then Thansius was gone.
QUADRAGINTA NOVEM: To the Death
THAT NIGHT IT was no surprise that I found it difficult to sleep. At the fourth section, I gave it up as a bad job. I pulled out my cloak and, using strong thread, sewed Destin into the garment’s sleeves and across its shoulders. This would hide my chain from view and also prevent it from being torn off me too easily. I put the Stone and the Elemental in my pocket, and set off with Harry Two.
I had fashioned a harness and a cradle of sorts, using scraps of leather and metal from Stacks. When we were safely away from Wormwood proper, I tied the shoulder straps around me, placed Harry Two in the cradle and buckled him in against my chest. I had bound him up like this before and he had taken to it good-naturedly.
I took a running start and soared into the air. This might be my last chance to leave the ground and feel the wind in my face, let it lift my hair. This light could very well be my last one. That made a Wug think.
I flew along for a great many slivers with Harry Two dangling happily underneath me. I don’t know which of our grins was bigger. But there was a melancholy behind my smile, for obvious reasons. And as I looked down at Harry Two from time to time, I could sense the same with him. It was as though what was in my heart was magically transferred to his. Canines were indeed curiously marvelous beasts.
We landed on the dirt, and I freed Harry Two from the harness. I had a cookie in my pocket, and I broke it in half and gave my canine his share, which he wolfed down while I took my time with mine. I chewed methodically, probably because I wanted to slow every sliver down now. It was all very morose and I wished I didn’t feel this way, but I did.
Many things passed through my mind. I wondered if it hurt to die. I thought back to how Tilt looked when the blow from Ladon-Tosh had hurried him on to the Hallowed Ground. To tell the truth, I don’t think Tilt ever realized he had died. It had happened just that fast. So maybe there was no pain. But you were still dead. So the consolation was not simply small, it was nonexistent. At that moment, I happened to look up at the sky and felt a sudden thrill when I saw it.
A shooting star. It raced across my point of view while all the other winks of light remained stationary. It had soon left them all behind. A sudden thought occurred to me.
It seemed lost, that star. And alone. In such a big place as the heavens, I guess this was always a possibility. I harkened back to what my grandfather had said. When you see a shooting star, it meant change was coming for some Wugmort. I had to believe that the change was finally coming for me. Whether it would be my death or my escape from here, only this coming light would tell.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the shooter. The little tail of fire kept going, powering the thing to, I’m sure, unimaginable speeds. I had never really believed my grandfather, just as youngs often don’t believe their elders when they’re trying to teach something. Yet now, sitting here, I somehow knew that Virgil had been entirely literal when telling me this. Change would come. It just would. Maybe he knew that one light, it would come for me. I kept sitting there and kept staring at the little pulse of brilliance. Since I had never glimpsed one before, I had no idea how long it would be visible. For some reason, in my head, I desperately wanted to keep it in sight. If it disappeared, it seemed to me, then so might I.
And it was there, for the longest time, until something came to dispel it for good. Or at least from my eyes. The break of the first section of light.
When the glow finally vanished, I rubbed my eyes and stretched my limbs. I picked up Harry Two and settled him into his cradle. I soared into the sky, performed a long dive and then came swooping back up into the lightening sky. Harry Two seemed to love this maneuver and barked happily.
I landed on the outskirts of the Delphias’ property. I didn’t wake them, though they would be up soon enough. I had brought a bit of parchment with me and used my ink stick to mark a few words down and then slipped it inside the Delphias’ door.
I bent down and gave Harry Two a long hug. It was hard to leave Wugs. It seemed just as hard to say good-bye to a beloved canine. I told Harry Two to stay with the Delphias. That the note would be read and they would understand.
In the note I had asked Delph to take in Harry Two if I was killed this light. I knew he would. My canine would make a wonderful addition to the lives of Delph and Duf and that was a good thing. And I didn’t feel bad about this. Harry Two had given me much happiness in the brief time I’d had him. I hoped I had at least done the same for him. Other than Harry Two, I really had no instructions to give. I had nothing left that anyone would care about. John was provided for. My parents were gone. My digs would go back to being empty. Another Finisher would take my place at Stacks. Life in Wormwood would go on, just like it always had.
I didn’t fly back to my digs. I walked. By the time I got there, it was nearly time for me to go to the pitch. I would get there neither early nor late but rather right on the sliver. I was surprised to see some flowers that Wugs had left in front of my door with parchments attached containing hopeful words. I took them all inside and placed them on the table, where they looked awfully fine.