The Sermonizer stepped out from behind a screen of embroidered fabric that I had actually had a hand in making at Stacks.
Ezekiel paused to bow deeply to Thansius and then Morrigone before taking his place at the lectern. His tunic was the whitest white I had ever seen. It was like looking at a cloud.
He raised his hands to the ceiling and we all settled down. John snuggled next to me and I put my arm protectively around his shoulders.
Ezekiel cleared his throat impressively. ‘I thank all my fellow Wugmorts for coming this light,’ he began. ‘Now let us incant.’
Which of course meant let him incant while we sat silently and listened. Listening to a sermonizer who above all loves to hear himself sermonize at length is about as much fun as having your toes sheared off by an amaroc. All bowed their heads, except me. That gave someone the opportunity to get the drop on me. And Cletus Loon was sitting perilously close by and had already glanced sideways at me twice with a nasty look.
Ezekiel looked down upon us and said, ‘We gather this light for an important Council announcement.’
I craned my neck a bit and saw the other Council members resplendent in their black tunics, sitting in a row in front of the altar and facing us. Jurik Krone was prominent among them. As I looked at him, he suddenly stared back at me. I quickly glanced away.
Ezekiel continued. ‘Our fellow Wugmort Quentin Herms has gone missing.’
Thansius cleared his throat loudly enough for me to hear it in the back.
‘And now the Chief of Council, Thansius, will address you all,’ Ezekiel added hastily.
Thansius walked to the lectern while Ezekiel took his seat near Morrigone.
‘We have knowledge to convey to you this light,’ Thansius began briskly.
I wrapped my arm tighter around John’s shoulders.
‘It is now believed that Quentin Herms has been forcibly taken,’ Thansius continued.
There were instant murmurings. Herman Helvet rose and said, ‘Beggin’ your pardon, Thansius, sir, but couldn’t he-a suffered an Event?’
‘No, Mr Helvet,’ said Thansius. ‘It is well known that with an Event, there is nothing left of one.’ His gaze found me in the crowd and it seemed that Thansius was speaking directly to me. ‘There was something left of Herms.’ He held up something in his hand that I could not see clearly. But the Wugs in the front rows gasped and turned away
I rose to get a better look. It was an eyeball.
My immediate reaction was one of suspicion. Quentin had had both his eyes when I saw him running into the Quag. And I doubted very seriously that any Wug would have gone into the Quag to find these remnants. What was going on?
‘And it was not a beast either,’ added Thansius quickly. ‘He was taken by something else that lurks in the Quag.’
‘Oi! What be the somethin’ else, then?’ asked a Wug in the second row.
Thansius stared down at him with a sort of ferocious kindness. ‘I can tell you that it walks on two legs as we do.’
A gasp went up among the crowd.
‘How do we know that?’ demanded another Wug, his face was red and creased with worry. He looked like he wanted to hit someone.
‘Evidence,’ answered Thansius calmly. ‘Evidence that we have discovered during our investigation of Herms’s disappearance.’
Another Wug stood with his hat in his hands. He said, ‘Beggin’ pardon, but why offer a reward if something took him, see? We thought he’d broken laws, what we were told. See?’ He looked at other Wugs near him and they nodded back.
This, I had to admit, was getting interesting.
‘Fresh facts, that is the answer,’ he said directly to the standing Wug. The weight of Thansius’s gaze seemed heavy enough to buckle the Wug’s knees and he abruptly sat, though still looking rather pleased for having stood in the first place.
Thansius gave us all another long look as though preparing us for what he was about to say. ‘We believe there are Outliers who live in the Quag,’ said Thansius. ‘We believe that they have taken Quentin Herms.’
Outliers? Outliers? What were Outliers? I looked around and found John’s wide, scared eyes on me. He mouthed the word Outliers?
I shook my head and refocused on Thansius. Outliers? What rubbish was this?
Thansius drew a long breath and said, ‘These creatures walk on two legs and we believe that they can control the minds of Wugmorts and make them do their bidding. We believe they did so with Quentin Herms.’
Every Wug in Steeples turned and looked at his neighbour. Even I felt a chill along my spine. I suddenly realized that while it was true I had seen Quentin run into the Quag, I didn’t know what had happened to him after that.
Thansius continued. ‘We believe these Outliers are planning to invade Wormwood.’
If Thansius had intended to incite a panic, he did not fail.
Wugs jumped to their feet. Females clutched the tiniest Wugs to their breasts. Shouts and gesticulations and feet stomping sounded throughout.
Thansius’s voice boomed so loud I thought the multicoloured windows might break under the strain of holding it in. ‘Enough!’
Every Wug, even the very youngs, fell quiet.
Thansius’s gaze was deadly stern now. ‘As you know, long, long ago there took place the Battle of the Beasts here.’ We all nodded as Thansius continued. ‘Our ancestors defeated, at terrible cost, an attack from the beasts that made their home in the Quag. Ever since that time, the beasts have remained, in large measure, within the confines of the Quag.’ Thansius let this sink in for a bit. ‘It has been an uneasy balance at times, but a balance nonetheless. Now, however, I’m afraid that delicate balance has been upset by the emergence of the Outliers. We must take steps to protect ourselves from them.’
A Wug called out, ‘But from whence did they come, Thansius, these Outliers?’
Thansius said, ‘We have every reason to believe that they have been spawned by the unspeakable physical intermingling of vile beasts and other hideous creatures in the Quag, resulting in specimens of complete horror and depravity.’
If he thought that would keep us calm, Thansius had seriously underestimated our capacity for terror. Shouts boomed across steeples.
Thansius shouted, ‘Enough!’ once more and we calmed, although this time it took nearly a sliver to do so. He said, ‘We have a plan to protect ourselves. And it will involve each and every one of you.’ He pointed at us for emphasis. Then he paused again, apparently to gather his strength. ‘We are going to build a wall between the Quag and us, covering every foot of our border. This and only this will keep us safe. All workers without exception, from the Mills, the Tillers, Stacks especially –’ here he looked at me – ‘will be employed to build it. We do not know how much time we have. While the Wall is being constructed, we will take precautionary measures, which will include armed patrols.’ He paused and then delivered the next giant morta blast right into our very souls. ‘But there is every possibility that Herms is not the only Wugmort whose mind was taken over by the Outliers.’
Once more, every Wug turned and looked at each other. Their suspicious glances were clear enough.
‘How do we know they ain’t about us already, these Outliers?’ yelled one old Wug.
‘They are not,’ said Thansius firmly. ‘At least not yet.’
‘But how do we know?’ barked the Wug, holding his chest and sucking in one scared breath after another. He seemed suddenly to realize to whom he had raised his voice. He clutched his hat and wheezed, ‘Beggin’ your pardon o’course, Thansius, sir.’
However, similar shouts went up. The crowd threatened to get completely out of control. I believed we were one punch or a single accusatory word from a riot.
Thansius held up his hands. ‘Please, fellow Wugmorts. Let me explain. Please. Quiet down.’ But there was no quieting us down. Not until it happened.
‘We do know,’ said a firm voice booming above all others.
All Wugs turned their
heads to her.
Morrigone was standing now, her gaze on all of us.
‘We do know,’ she said again. ‘As all of you know, I have been given a gift. This gift has allowed me to see the fate of Quentin Herms. He ventured into the Quag, and that is where the Outliers took him. They plucked out his eye and took over his mind and made him tell them certain things of Wormwood and of Wugmorts. After that I saw no more of his fate. We must protect ourselves. And we will. We must never let them take Wormwood from us. It’s all we have.’
I was holding my breath. Along with every other Wug.
We all released our collective breath at the same time and it turned into a cheer.
Morrigone raised her fist to the beautiful Steeples ceiling. ‘For Wormwood.’
‘For Wormwood,’ we all cheered back.
And despite all my misgivings, my cheers were among the loudest.
16
MORRIGONE CALLS
Outside Steeples, I saw Cletus Loon and two of his male chums taunting Delph, making moronic faces and talking in the halting way he does.
‘D-D-Delph s-s-smelts,’ cried out one.
Cletus said, ‘Seen better-looking faces on the back of a creta.’
Duf roared, ‘Get away from here, you heathens. Right outside Steeples no less!’
He grabbed Delph’s arm and pulled him along.
I just happened to walk next to Cletus, and my foot just happened to reach out and trip him. He fell face down in the dirt. When he rolled over and tried to get up, I put one of my boots squarely on his chest and held him down.
‘You try that again, Cletus Loon, my boot will end up in a place the light never sees.’ I removed my boot and walked on. He and his mates raced past, calling me names so bad that I finally had to cover John’s ears.
It had been hot in Steeples, but the air outside was cool and damp. I took John to Learning and then went on to Stacks. At mid-light meal in the common room, all the discussion was focused on the Outliers. To a Wug, they were all behind Morrigone and the plan to build the Wall. Morrigone had made a convincing case.
When John and I walked to our digs after Learning, the Loons were holding what looked like a war meeting at the table in the main room. Cacus had a knife lying close to hand. Cletus was eyeing it greedily, and then he glanced venomously at me.
As we passed by him, I made a show of taking my cutting knife from my pocket and examining its sharpness. And then I wielded it expertly, making tricky manoeuvres with the blade and tossing and catching it in a blur of speed. Then I tossed it ten feet, point first into the wall. As I wrenched it free, I glanced over and caught him watching me, wide-eyed.
While I put my knife away, I noticed something was off. There was no smell of food cooking from the kitchen.
‘Aren’t we having a night meal?’ I asked.
Loon looked at me like I was gonked. ‘After what we heard this light at Steeples? Outliers coming to kill us? Who can think of food at a time like this, eh?’
‘We can hardly put up a fight against the Outliers if we’re starving.’ I looked at Cletus and noted the crumbs of bread on his lip and a smear of what looked to be chicken grease on his chin.
‘It looks like you ate,’ I said angrily.
Hestia started to rise. I was sure she was going to go to the kitchen to make us a meal. But Loon put a restraining hand on her arm. ‘You sit, female. Now.’
She sat, not looking at me.
I glared at Loon and Cletus for a half-sliver longer and then led John back outside, slamming the door after us. John and I sat down on the front steps.
John rested his chin on his bony knees. ‘I’m scared, Vega.’
‘You heard Morrigone. The Outliers will not get to us.’
I pulled my tin box from my cloak and opened it. Inside was some food I had bartered for earlier. It was meant to be for my next light meal, but that wouldn’t work now. ‘Eat what you want, John,’ I said.
‘What about you?’
‘I had my meal at Stacks, so I’m not really hungry. Go on.’
I stiffened when I saw the carriage coming. It stopped right where we sat. Despite the chill, the flanks of the sleps were heavy with sweat. Bogle must have pushed them hard. The door opened and I expected to see Thansius step out. Instead, it was Morrigone.
John and I hastily stood. Over her white robe she wore a red cloak that very nearly matched her hair. Blood on blood, I thought. She looked at me and then at John and then down at the insignificant meal in my tin box. When she looked back up, her cheeks were tinged with pink, and her expression was one of, I think, shame.
‘Would you like to come and take supper with me at my home?’
John simply gaped at her. I did likewise.
‘Come, it would be my privilege.’ She held open the carriage door and motioned for us to step inside. As we did, I caught the gaze of the many Wugs who were watching us, open-mouthed. That included all the Loons, who had come outside.
Bogle whipped up the sleps and off we went. I was surprised at how fast and smooth the ride was. I looked out at the lantern-lit windows of Wormwood rushing by.
Morrigone was very private, and no Wug knew very much about her, but I knew her home was set off the road north of Wormwood proper.
Eventually the carriage rounded one last bend, where the road became crushed gravel, and a sliver later there appeared a set of massive metal gates. These parted on their own somehow, and the carriage swept through. I could see on the wrought-iron gates the letter M.
When I turned back, Morrigone was watching me closely.
‘I’ve seen where you live,’ I said haltingly, ‘but just through the gates as I was passing by. It’s very beautiful.’
She continued to gaze at me. ‘When you were a very young?’ she asked.
I nodded. ‘I was with my father.’
She looked relieved for some reason and nodded. ‘Thank you. It is a wonderful place to live.’ She glanced over at John, who was scrunched so far down in the corner of the carriage, he had almost become part of the cushioned seat. She said, ‘We will have our meal and then we can talk through matters.’
I gaped. What matters needed talking through with Wugs like us?
The carriage stopped and she reached across and opened the door. She stepped out first and we followed, with me last. I actually had to pull John up and push him out.
The house, compared to what else was in Wormwood, was like a crystal vase set among rubbish. The front door was large and made of wood as thick as the width of my hand. As we neared it, the door opened. I was startled by this, although the heavy gates had done the same.
And then I saw a Wug revealed behind the door. I had glimpsed him once before on the cobblestones of Wormwood, although I didn’t know his name. He bowed to Morrigone and then led us down a long hallway illuminated by torches set in bronze holders. There were large paintings on the wall. And a looking glass hung there as well. The wooden frame was of creatures twisted into different shapes.
Then I noticed a pair of silver candleholders on the wall.
‘I did the finish on those at Stacks,’ I exclaimed.
She nodded. ‘I know you did. They are extraordinarily lovely. One of my prized possessions.’
I beamed at this praise as we continued down the hall.
My feet sank into thick rugs awash in lovely colours. We passed several rooms, including one that I could see through the open doorway. This was obviously the library since it had books from the floor to the ceiling; a fire burned in a massive stone fireplace. It had a large chimneypiece fashioned from what I knew to be marble with a large, ornately carved looking glass above it. A suit of dark armour taller than I was stood next to the door to this room. Morrigone, I realized, was minted indeed.
As we reached the end of the hall, Morrigone, her gaze sweeping briefly over our less-than-clean appearances, said, ‘William will show you where you can, um, tidy up a bit before we take our meal?’
William was obvi
ously the Wug escorting us. Short and amply fed, and wearing overly clean clothes, with skin that was as smooth and pristine as his garments, he motioned for us to follow him as Morrigone set off down another passageway.
William showed us to a door. I stared blankly at it, not knowing what to do. He opened it and said, ‘Hot water tap on the left, cold water tap on the right. Matters of a personal nature right where it looks to be,’ he added, pointing at the device set against one wall. ‘Meal is awaiting, so no loitering about.’ Then he gave us each a shove into the room and closed the door behind us.
Our personal business was normally done in the loo located in a shack behind the Loons. The pipes we used were next to it. There was no hot water, only the freezing variety that came out most times at little more than a trickle.
Here were thick cloths and a white cleaning bar of soap set next to a bowl. I looked at John, who did not appear capable of movement. So I turned on the left tap. Water flowed out with good pressure. I put my hands under it. It was warm! I picked up the soap and rubbed it across my palms. The grime came off. I wiped my face and then washed it all off with the water. I hesitated and then grabbed one of the cloths and dried myself.
I motioned to John to come and do what I had done.
When I put the cloth down, I could see that it was black with dirt, which made me feel ashamed.
While John was using the pipes, I stared at the looking glass hung above the bowl. I had not seen my reflection for some time. It was not a pleasing sight. My face was a bit cleaner, but my hair looked like an untidy stack of hay.
My gaze then flitted over my clothes. They were filthy. I felt embarrassed, unworthy to be in this remarkable place or ride in the elegant carriage.
I self-consciously rubbed at a dirt spot on my cheek that I had missed. My nose looked funny too, I thought. And my eyes appeared mismatched, one slightly larger and higher placed than its neighbour. In the light in here, my eyes looked more silver than blue.
Vega Jane and the Secrets of Sorcery Page 7
