The Finisher

by David Baldacci

  I continued on, my spirits heartened by her gesture of kindness.

  When I got to my tree I stopped, dropped my tin and cloth bag, and ran forward screaming.

  “No. No!” I yelled. “That’s my tree.”

  There were four Wugs, all males, all twice my size. One of them was Non. He had an ax and was about to strike my tree a vicious blow. Two other Wugs stood ready with a long saw, while the fourth Wug had a morta, which he now pointed at me while Harry Two growled and snapped at him.

  They were going to chop down my tree.

  Non stopped, but still holding the ax up high, he said viciously, “Traitors dinnae get to have trees, female.”

  He started his downswing with the huge ax.

  “No,” I screamed. “You can’t. You can’t.” I paused and then said, “You won’t!”

  Non hit my tree with a staggering blow, and the most amazing thing happened. There was not a dent or cut in the bark. Instead, the ax broke in half and fell to the ground.

  Non stood there looking in disbelief at where he had hit my tree and then down at his shattered tool.

  “What the Hel?” he roared. He pointed at the two Wugs holding the long saw and motioned them forward while the other Wug cocked the hammer back on his morta and kept it pointed at my head.

  I just stood there, staring at my tree, willing with all my heart for it to survive this unjust attack. Even if I were a traitor — which I wasn’t — my poor tree should not suffer.

  The two Wugs set the saw’s teeth against my tree’s bark and started to cut. Or they tried to. The teeth disintegrated against the trunk.

  The Wugs straightened and looked in puzzlement at their ruined saw.

  Non stared fiercely over at me. “What sort of tree is this?” he demanded.

  “It’s my tree,” I said, pushing past the Wug holding the morta. “Now, clear off.”

  “It’s bedeviled,” exclaimed Non. “You’re working with them Outliers. Evil scum. They’ve bedeviled this tree, they have!”

  “That is utter nonsense.”

  We all looked around and saw Thansius standing about five yards from us. He was dressed in a long gray cloak. He held a long stick in one massive hand, and I imagined he had gone for an early light walk.

  “A bedeviled tree?” said Thansius as he drew nearer and looked up at my beautiful poplar. “How do you mean?”

  Non shuffled his feet nervously and kept his gaze downcast. The other Wugs had all taken steps back and were studying the ground. I’m sure none of them had ever been in conversation with Thansius.

  Non said haltingly, “Well, Thansius … sir, ax and … and saw don’t touch it, did they … sir?”

  “Easily explained,” said Thansius, looking at me.

  He rapped my tree with his knuckles. “You see, over time some trees that are ancient become petrified. That is to say their bark hardens to such a degree that it becomes stronger than iron. It’s no wonder your tools fell victim to its armored husk.”

  He picked up the pieces of the broken ax and the toothless saw and handed them back to Non and the other two Wugs. “I would say that this tree will still be standing when we are all long since dust.” He looked directly at Non. “So be off with you, Non. I’m sure you and your colleagues have labors on the Wall to perform.”

  Non and his cronies hastily made their way down the path and were soon out of sight.

  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 arm
ed 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.

  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?”

  “I don’t want to try and see inside your head, Loon; I might go blind.”

  “I wish that I draw you in the first round of the Duelum.”

  His friends laughed while I stood there staring at Cletus like he was not worth a sliver of my time.

  Finally I said, “Be careful what you wish for, Loon; you might just get it.”

  He got right in my face. “I can’t wait to see you get your arse kicked and I hope I’m the one to do it.”

  “I suppose you’ve got some brilliant moves you’re itching to try out.”

  “You bet I do,” he said, grinning maliciously.

  I waited patiently for Cletus to do what I knew he was going to do. What he so desperately wanted to do.

  He feinted with his right hand, swung his left to within an inch of my cheek and then pretended to knee me in the stomach.

  I just stood there stoically, not even batting an eye.

  His grin finally disappeared. “You best watch yourself.”

  “Right,” I said.

  He stepped to the side, allowing me to pass. I walked on with Harry Two protecting my flank.

  “Thanks, you idiot,” I said under my breath.

  I heard Wugs calling out farther down the Low Road where it turned into the High Street cobblestones leading into Wormwood proper. Other Wugs were rushing toward that destination as well. I picked up my pace to see what was going on. I turned onto the High Street and saw that Wugs were collecting around a wooden board that was used for official announcements.

  Then it occurred to me. The first Duelum bouts were being posted this night! I sprinted hard down the cobblestones and pushed my way through hordes of Wugs until I could see the long parchment strips pinned to the wood. I ran my eye down the list of names, finally reaching my name near the bottom. As I gazed across at my opponent for the first bout, my mouth twitched.

  Cletus Loon indeed would be getting his wish. I had drawn him in the first round. I would have to fight and win four times to reach the championship match. Not that I expected, despite Delph’s encouragement, to get that far.

  Yet I knew one thing. I was going to beat Cletus Loon. That would be enough for me. I prayed the other females in the competition would survive the first round reasonably intact.

  I then looked for Delph’s name and found it less than a sliver later. In the first bout, he would be fighting the huge, vile Ran Digby, the patrol Wug who liked to chew his smoke weed and catch yuck in his great, filthy beard.

  A hand grabbed my arm. I turned to see Jurik Krone. I pulled my arm free and stared up at him. I could sense other Wugs giving us space, but staring all the same.

  “Madame Morrigone has no doubt told you of your lucky escape from justice,” he snarled.

  “Lucky,” I said in a scathing tone. “Lucky to fight males three times my size so they can beat me to death?”

  In a loud voice he proclaimed, “I would much prefer to see you in Valhall, traitor. Or with your head no longer attached. That would be real justice.”

  Okay, enough was bloody well enough. Now it was my turn.

  “And I would much prefer to see my grandfather sitting on Council instead of a stupid git like you.”

  The Wugs surrounding us gave a gasp and took a collective step back.

  I stepped forward. It had been a long light; I was tired and I was simply mad. And if I did not speak my piece right now, I felt like I would explode.

  I pressed my finger into his chest. “My grandfather saw you for what you are and that’s why he didn’t want you on Council. You are a vindictive little weasel that would make a garm seem honorable. All you care about is yourself and your career and to Hel with every other Wug. I’ve met some pillocks in my time, Krone — some nasty, stupid pillocks of the highest order — but you, you beat them all, you lying, worthless piece of dung.” I turned away, but only for an instant. I whirled back around and said, “Oh, and for the record” — now my voice rose to a shriek — “the only thing I’m sorry for is that your arse is not in the Duelum so I could kick it from here to the Quag. Now go straight to Hel!”

  I turned around for good and stalked off. I hoped and prayed to Steeples that Krone would attack me because I was so furious that I would not only knock him to the Quag, I would knock the Wug right through it.

  I stopped only when I saw Delph staring at me from across the cobblestones. From his stunned expression, it was clear he had seen and heard everything.

  I walked over to him.

  “Bloody Hel, Vega Jane,” he began. “And Jurik Krone no less.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Krone, Delph. He is nothing.”

  I watched as Krone and a couple of his Council confederates, including Duk Dodgson, shoved through the crowd of Wugs and headed to the Council building. Krone shot me a loathsome look and then he disappeared from my sight.

  I turned back to Delph. “Did you know Ran Digby is your first opponent?”

  Delph smiled. “He best hope he has teeth left to spit his slop through.”

  “Well, he only has three of them that I can see. I got Cletu
s Loon.”

  “You’ll beat him, Vega Jane. I’ll make sure of it.”

  In truth, I wasn’t all that worried about fighting Cletus Loon. What I was thinking about was my meeting with John. I had told him that our parents were gone. I had not even waited to see his reaction. That had been so cruel on my part and I felt terrible guilt for having done it. My Duelum dilemma was a distant second to that. He was not yet twelve sessions. He might know books. But he did not know life.

  Delph touched me on the shoulder and lifted me from these painful musings.

  “Vega Jane? You okay?”

  “I’m fine, Delph.”

  He drew closer. “You want to practice this night?”

  I wanted to, but I shook my head. “Not this night, Delph. This night I need to rest.”

  He looked disappointed, then nodded, turned and walked off.

  I watched him go for a bit and then set off. Not for my digs and my last meal. I was headed to the Care with Harry Two beside me. I wasn’t sure why I was going, because my parents were no longer there. But something inside me was telling me I had to go.

  When we arrived here, rain started pelting down. Harry Two glanced up at me a few times, probably wondering why we were out in the driving rain. It was cold and I started shivering. I finally stirred and headed to the doors. I had no idea if they would open. I had never been here this late at night. I pushed on the wood and, surprisingly, it opened. I poked my head into the darkened corridor.

  My canine kept close to my shins. He wasn’t growling or making any sound at all. He seemed as intimidated as I felt. I moved past all the other wooden doors with the brass plates on them. They were familiar names, but there were also a few new ones as fresh sick Wugs took the place of Wugs who had made their final journey to the Hallowed Ground from this place.

  I reached my parents’ old room and gazed up at the brass plate. Or where the plate had once been. Now all I could see was the outline of the brass rectangle that had once read HECTOR JANE AND HELEN JANE.