I drew my Elemental, willed it to full size, took aim and hurled it dead centre of the mirror. It was blasted into tiny pieces and they sprayed all over the beautiful and, up to that moment, immaculate room. As the debris settled over all her pretty things, I allowed myself a grim smile.
I rushed back down the hall and lifted the still sputtering William off the torch holder and set him gently down. He looked at me indignantly and smoothed down his ruffled clothes. ‘Rest assured that I will inform Madame Morrigone of this most inexcusable trespass as soon as she returns.’
I said, ‘That’s exactly what I want you to do.’
As a parting shot, I ripped from the wall the silver candleholders I had made and took them with me. When I was high up in the air, flying on a seam of wind, I flung them as far away as I could manage. And all I wished was that I could fling myself just as far from this horrible place.
43
A BIT OF MISCHIEF
Jurik Krone’s young disciple Duk Dodgson was my next opponent. He was tall and strong but had never won a Duelum because, at least to my mind, he was too cocksure to acknowledge that he had weaknesses on which he should work. He was handsome, though his mouth was cruel and his eyes arrogant. He clearly loathed me because his master did.
I was very glad I had drawn him in the Duelum. Getting even was not just fun; sometimes it was all you had.
Delph had beaten Dodgson in the last Duelum. He had told me that Dodgson would hang back and not attack right away, and that he had a bad habit of keeping his fists too low, which made his neck and head vulnerable. This gave me an idea, and I had snuck into Hospital the night before the next round and pinched a book. I pored over the pages late into the night.
At the next first light, I was up early and slipped on my cloak. I had left Harry Two at my digs.
When I got to the pitch, I saw on the betting boards that the odds were running fairly even, meaning as many coins had been placed on me to win as on Dodgson. I was on at the second bell this light. I placed my bet and then turned and nearly bumped into him.
Krone wore his black tunic like it was a halo of gold. When he spoke his tone was one of derision.
‘Do you like to lose your coin?’ he said. ‘You can’t have that much.’
‘Excuse me?’ I said curtly.
‘You wagered on yourself. My esteemed colleague barely lost to Delph in the last Duelum. You won’t stand a chance. Why not just surrender and we can take you away to Valhall where you belong.’ He made a show of handing Litches McGee twenty-five coins wagering on his ‘esteemed colleague’ to beat me.
‘Why don’t you simply give me the coins now,’ I said. ‘It’ll save McGee the trouble of handing them over to me when I’ve finished with your precious little Wug.’
Before he could respond I turned on my heel and stalked away to the pitch.
I watched Ted Racksport skilfully dispatch a quivering Wug who worked at the Mill in just under five slivers. As his hand was raised in victory, Racksport eyed me and smiled wickedly. He pointed at me as if to say I was next.
My pleasure, I thought.
The second bell sounded, and I marched towards my quad. Dodgson stood across from me, his shirt off and his muscles flexed in an intimidating manner. When the referee called us in for instruction, Dodgson eyed me and said, ‘I won’t hurt you too much.’ He smiled with those cruel lips, but the smile never reached his eyes. He next spoke in a voice only I could hear. ‘That was a lie. I am going to hurt you very much. You should be in Valhall. It is Krone’s wish and I serve him well.’
I didn’t respond to this. Instead I turned to look at Krone, who stood right on the edge of the quad to cheer on his Wug. I held up five fingers and opened and closed my hand five times representing his twenty-five wagered coins, and then pointed to myself.
I turned back to Dodgson. He had seen this exchange and his face was full of fury.
He flexed his muscles. ‘No mercy for you, female. None!’
‘I don’t remember asking for any,’ I said in a deadly calm voice.
With my battered face, I knew I looked scary. And right now I was perfectly fine with that. Because, as I continued to stare over at Dodgson, I could see something I had yet to see in one of my opponents.
I saw fear.
The bell rang, our bout began, and I charged straight at Dodgson. As Delph had said, he liked to hang back and he did keep his hands too low. I leaped and wrapped my legs around his torso and arms, locking my ankles together as I had done with Cletus in my first bout. By being forced to carry my weight too, he was thrown off balance just enough that when I twisted my body to the right, he toppled over. I squeezed my legs tighter, trapping his arms by his side. I gripped his neck and pinched the throbbing pipes of blood that ran up to his head. He struggled to break my leg lock, but I was a lot stronger than I looked and my legs were far stronger than my arms.
He did succeed in ramming his head against my face again and again until I thought I might actually pass out. I felt fresh blood run down my lips, and I tasted it in my mouth. I thought I felt my cheekbone crack and my good eye puff up. But I held on. I was not going to let this Wug go.
As the blood going to his head was constricted by my grip, his eyes fluttered once, twice, he stopped struggling and his arrogant eyes closed. I released my grip and stood. Dodgson remained where he was, senseless.
The book I had taken from Hospital had explained this little medical fact and I had employed it to full measure. Dodgson would rise shortly and be no worse off for it, except for his wounded pride and a splitting headache. The referee checked Dodgson’s status and then raised my hand in victory.
As I stood there, bruised and bloodied, I found Racksport’s gaze on me. I could tell by his amazed look that he had lost coin on the bout.
I rubbed a bit of blood off my face and pointed my reddened finger at him, just as he had at me, until he gave a nervous, hollow laugh and turned away.
And then I looked at Krone. I didn’t smile. I didn’t laugh. I didn’t say a word. I simply stared. And then I held my five fingers up five more times and pointed to myself.
His face filled with hatred, he stalked off, leaving his precious Dodgson still unconscious on the dirt. So much for ‘esteemed colleagues’.
After this round was completed, there would be only four combatants left standing. And after that, only two. I meant to be one of the two. And then the one of the one: the champion. I had never won anything in all my sessions. Now I was determined to win the Duelum.
I collected my winnings and walked down the high street with many slivers on my hands wondering what best to do with them.
As I passed the Golden Cask, the only pub in Wormwood, Thaddeus Kitchen ambled out, looking the worse for a pint or two or three.
‘No work on the Wall this light?’ I said.
He glanced at me and in that look I could tell something was wrong.
He hiccupped and said, ‘Me and Henry got sacked, thanks to your lot.’
‘My lot?’ I replied, stunned by this.
‘Cos of the Wa-Wall (hiccup) tumblin’ down on D-Du . . . That bloke whatsis—’
‘I didn’t make the Wall fall. Your lot doctoring the straps did. Who sacked you?’
‘Your brother, that’s who.’ He belched.
‘John sacked you? I thought he was the one who made the design change?’
‘He did. But what matter is it to mister (hiccup) high-and-mighty Wug that he is? And I got me a family to su-suppo . . . take care of, now don’t I?’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, though I really wasn’t. ‘But Duf Delphia lost his legs. You can always get another job.’
He wobbled about on his feet before regaining his balance. ‘Oh, can I now? Not with a bad reference from him, I can’t.’
‘My brother sacked you because you made something weak,’ I said angrily. ‘I’m sure when he found out what happened, he was furious with himself.’
Kitchen drew closer and leaned i
nto my face. ‘He sacked us, female, cos we took you at your word and didn’t punch no more holes in them fancy straps-a yours. When he found out, that’s when he sacked us. He didn’t care a thing for poor D-Du-whatsis.’ He hiccupped again.
I said nothing to this because I could think of nothing to say.
Taking my silence for acquiescence, Kitchen belched again and said, ‘A pox on the house of Jane, I say. What good are you?’ He stumbled a bit and then refocused on me, a silly grin spreading over his face. ‘But I got a coin or two on you in the next round, Vega, so (hiccup) don’t let me down. Har.’
As he staggered off, I heard footsteps on the cobblestones behind me and I turned to see who it was. Roman Picus looked none too pleased. With him were Cletus, Ran Digby with his nose bandaged and, bringing up the rear, Non, who looked as bad as I felt.
‘Gotta question for ya, Vega,’ Picus said.
‘Don’t keep me in suspense, Roman.’
‘You’ve beat three males, including Non here. And you done this in your very first Duelum. Now, tell me, how can that be?’
‘I’m a quick learner and I got better.’
‘Non tells me before the Duelum you laid him out with one blow. And put a dent in his metal.’
‘So.’
Roman was still staring at me. ‘I think I’ll have a talk with Council. ’Tain’t right for no Wugs to have unfair advantage in a Duelum.’
‘I agree,’ I said. ‘So, the next Wug who outweighs me by more than a hundred pounds with arms bigger than my legs can just stand on his hands while I hit away.’
‘You’re missing my point, female.’
‘Then try explaining it in a way that an intelligent Wug can understand.’
‘I think you’re cheating!’ he snapped. ‘And so does every other Wug. A female beating the likes-a Non, what are the chances of that, I ask you.’
The fact that I had beaten all of my opponents without the aid of my special weapons made my face flame with indignation. ‘I’d say the likelihood is one hundred per cent, since it happened.’
‘I still say you’re cheating,’ Roman said.
‘Then take it up with Council. I’ll see you to collect my winnings after the Duelum is over. Why should I let Litches McGee have all the fun?’
‘You sound pretty confident of victory,’ he said suspiciously.
‘If I can’t believe in myself, who can?’
44
A MATTER OF PARCHMENT
I stopped by my digs, picked up Harry Two and together we walked to the Care. Since Non was no longer guarding the place, I hurried in and found Duf’s room. I was surprised because they had put him in my parents’ old quarters.
I eased the door open and peered in. As I suspected would be the case, Delph was perched on the edge of his father’s cot, rubbing Duf’s head with a wet cloth. I opened the door all the way and Harry Two and I strode in. Delph looked up.
‘Duelum?’ he said.
‘I won.’
‘Who’d you fight?’
‘Doesn’t matter. How’s Duf?’
I drew closer to the bed and looked down at him. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully. I stole a glance at his legs, or where his legs used to be. The sheets lay flat against the mattress there, them having nothing of Duf to cover.
Delph replied dully, ‘OK, I guess. Timbertoes coming next light.’
With timbertoes, Duf would be able to hobble about, but that would be all. No more beast training for him. Sometimes, no matter how good he was, a trainer had to run for his life. And you couldn’t do that on timbers.
I struggled with what to say next. How could I tell him that my brother had redesigned the straps and that had caused them to fail? In the end I said nothing about it.
‘Delph, the Quag?’ I said in a low voice. ‘After the Duelum?’
I could see the range of emotions flitter across Delph’s face. He looked from me to his father. And his gaze symbolically held there. He lowered his head.
‘S-sorry, Vega Jane.’
I turned away as I felt the tears climb to my eyes. I patted him on the back and said, ‘I understand, Delph. It’s the right choice. It’s . . . family.’
I wish I had some left.
I headed to the door.
‘Good luck in the Duelum, Vega Jane.’
I turned to see him staring at me.
‘I hope you win it all,’ he added.
I left him there with his father. As I walked out into the warmth of the light, I had never felt such cold in my heart.
My next stop was the Council building. I trotted up the steps and pushed open one of the massive front doors.
I walked in to see a great chamber with soaring ceilings and lit torches. The temperature felt about as perfect as was possible. Council members and their staff were walking to and fro.
I approached a marble-topped counter where a short, prim-looking female stood dressed in a grey tunic, her white hair pulled so tightly into a bun that her eyes were catlike. She turned her nose up at my roughened appearance and said in an officious voice, ‘Can I help you?’
‘I hope so,’ I said. ‘Is Thansius here?’
Her nose turned even more upward.
‘Thansius? You are seeking Thansius?’ she said imperiously.
Her tone implied that I might as well be here for a consult with the sun.
‘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 wandered over to the massive paintings on the long walls. As I grew closer to one of them, 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, 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, leaped 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. But everything else was so exactly as I remembered it that I did not think this was the case. What had been erased was me, as had 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. And there were certainly no colossals in the painting.
I stepped backwards 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 a garm over for tea and biscuits 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 huge room. Thansius rose and smiled at me.
‘Vega, please come and sit.’
I walked over and took a seat in an upholstered chair opposite his desk.
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.
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. ‘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.’
‘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.’
Vega Jane and the Secrets of Sorcery Page 23
