Vega Jane and the Secrets of Sorcery

by David Baldacci

  ‘You told my workers to disobey my orders,’ he said sharply.

  I thought to myself, Your workers? ‘They were weakening the straps by punching more holes in them. You know what happened to Duf Delphia. He lost his legs.’

  He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. ‘Morrigone reported this to me.’

  She reported this to you? I thought.

  He continued. ‘He will be taken care of. Timbertoes. Sticks. Injury wages. He will have no reason to complain.’

  ‘He will have no reason to complain?’ I said incredulously. ‘With his legs gone? How would you feel if you were getting the timbers and sticks and not him?’

  ‘He is a worker Wug, Vega. Injuries to those types happen. But they will be taken care of. And their families. We are grateful for their service for the greater good.’

  We are grateful for their service? Since when did John start talking like this about himself?

  ‘I’m a worker Wug,’ I said. ‘What if my legs or arms got lopped off while I was performing for you and the greater good?’

  He stared up at me, his expression unchanged by my blunt words.

  I looked past his shoulder and into his room. Every inch of every wall was covered with scrolls, and on them were symbols and drawings that made me gape. Most of them were foul things. There was one creature whose head was a mass of slimy tentacles, and another whose legs were those of a spider and whose mouth was literally lined with fangs.

  I shot him a bewildered glance, my jaw slack with the horror I was feeling. No wonder he hadn’t shown me his room before.

  He quickly closed his door, blocking my view.

  ‘What are those terrible things, John?’ I demanded.

  ‘Many of the things we will be pitted against are horrible, but that does not mean we cannot learn from them. In fact, the more we know, the better prepared we will be.’

  ‘I just don’t want you delving into things that may . . . overwhelm you, John.’

  ‘I’m up to it, Vega, I can absolutely assure you.’

  I swallowed and finally said what I had come here to say. ‘John, would you consider coming back to live with me? At our old home? We could—’

  But he was already shaking his head. ‘Impossible, Vega. Morrigone assures me that I am absolutely indispensable.’

  All the hopes I had carried with me here instantly vanished. Before I could say anything, John hurried on. ‘You should not be here,’ he said. ‘Morrigone will not be pleased. She had to go out to meet with Thansius, but she’ll be back soon.’

  ‘What has she been saying about me to you? Other than my betraying her?’

  ‘Nothing – not really.’

  He was lying. And he was not good at it because of having had no practice. Unlike me.

  ‘Did she mention that we did battle?’ He blinked rapidly. ‘Did she tell you that she wrecked the window at my digs and then vanished?’ He blinked more rapidly. I pointed over his shoulder towards his room. ‘Is that what Morrigone wants you to learn about?’

  ‘My studies are no concern of yours!’ he said defiantly.

  ‘Do you think our parents would want you knowing about such things?’

  ‘The more I know, the better.’

  ‘For the greater good? How likely is that?’

  I let the silence linger. I wanted him to really think about what I had just said.

  ‘You . . . you’re still in the Duelum.’

  ‘I know I am. I’m surprised you’re even aware of it.’

  ‘I . . . I hope that you win.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You should go now.’

  I reached in my pocket and pulled out the package wrapped in pretty paper and handed it to him. ‘Happy twelve sessions, John.’

  His face registered surprise as he looked down at the package. My brother and I shared the same birthlight. He looked up at me with guilty eyes. ‘But that means . . . I lost track . . .’

  ‘It’s OK. As you said, you’ve been very busy.’ I was gratified to see that under a shell that was hardening with each passing light, my brother was still in there somewhere. But for how much longer?

  ‘Open it,’ I said.

  His fingers dispatched the pretty paper. It was a journal inside.

  ‘You’ve read so many books, John, that I thought it quite unnecessary to give you another. But as smart as you are, I thought you might want to start writing one of your very own.’

  He looked up at me with tears in his eyes. Slowly, we both reached out for the other and embraced. I squeezed John as tightly as I could and he did the same to me.

  ‘I love you, John.’

  ‘You best go,’ he said anxiously.

  I nodded. ‘I best,’ I replied.

  And so I did.

  As I left Morrigone’s beautiful home, I doubted I would ever see John again. In truth, I had come here to see if he would leave Wormwood and go through the Quag with me. That was obviously not to be. So now that Delph could no longer go either, it was just me.

  I would have to win the Duelum first and then I would go through the Quag alone.

  Happy birthlight to me.

  47

  THE BLOW FROM NOWHERE

  The next round of the Duelum pitted the last four combatants against one another. My opponent was Ted Racksport. I arrived at the pitch early, in my other set of old clothes. The betting this time showed me to be a slight favourite. I put two coins on me to win, with Roman Picus. He snarled in response and threw the parchment at me.

  ‘How are the Carbineer patrols coming, Roman?’ I asked. ‘I haven’t seen you blokes around much lately.’

  ‘We’re there, female – you can be sure-a that.’ His gaze drilled into me. ‘Your face.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘It looks a lot better. How can that be?’

  ‘It’s called face paint,’ I said quickly.

  He sniffed the air. ‘And what’s that smell?’

  ‘Lavender and honeysuckle,’ I answered. ‘You should try it sometime.’

  I walked over to the quad. Since there were only two matches scheduled, Racksport and I would battle first. The second bout would take place directly after. The crowd was growing larger by the sliver. As I looked towards the raised platform, it seemed that many more Council members and their mates were there. I also thought I saw a glimpse of Thansius.

  Silas, the aged Wug referee, headed over and I readied myself. I was taking no chance with Racksport. I had seen up close how tricky and resourceful he was when fighting. I could not use the same move I had employed against Duk Dodgson, for Racksport would be ready for that. So I had something else up my sleeve.

  But it was not to be.

  Silas came up to me and raised my hand in victory. I looked at him, puzzled, as a groan went up from the crowd of Wugs, who had been all set to see some blood.

  ‘What happened?’ I asked him in bewilderment.

  ‘Win by default is what,’ he answered promptly, looking at my left ear.

  ‘Why? Where’s Racksport?’

  ‘At hospital.’

  ‘Hospital? Why?’

  ‘He accidentally shot himself in the foot with one-a his blasted mortas,’ barked Roman Picus, who had drawn close to the edge of the quad. ‘Just now heard. Can’t fathom how lucky you are, Vega. Ted’s a right good fighter.’

  ‘Really?’ I said. ‘I was just thinking how lucky the bloke was. A shot in the foot with a morta is nothing compared to what I was going to do to him.’

  ‘And I ain’t paying off on no bets. Not with no bout,’ he added. Then he turned on his heel and stormed off.

  Grinning, I turned to watch the other match that would now take place immediately. The grin fell off my face quick as a heartbeat.

  Newton Tilt from Stacks was stepping into the quad. I had watched two of his other bouts and knew how strong he was, especially his grip. He was a good, capable fighter. Still, I feared for him. Because stepping on to the quad to face him w
as Ladon-Tosh. I had lost track of the remaining combatants, and on the betting board I had always focused only on my own bout. But the simple fact was, I would be facing the winner of this round. And when I looked at Ladon-Tosh, I had little doubt it would be him.

  I drew closer, along with pretty much every other Wug here.

  The referee gave instructions and Tilt put out his hand for Ladon-Tosh to take. He didn’t. Tilt grinned at this sporting insult and retreated a few yards, his arms raised, his shoulders squared and his jaw set.

  Ladon-Tosh didn’t move. He just stood there staring off like he always did at Stacks. The bell sounded. Tilt came rushing on, his fist cocked back, his other arm up as his guard.

  He had drawn within a yard of Ladon-Tosh, who still hadn’t moved, when it happened. I’m not sure I even saw the blow fall. No, I am sure. I didn’t. All I saw was Tilt rise up in the air and hurtle backwards far faster than he had ever rushed forward. He landed in a crazy pile of arms and legs a good twenty feet out of the quad and didn’t move again.

  The referee rushed over to his prostrate body and I saw him grimace painfully at the state of Tilt. He frantically waved over a team of Mendens. They rushed forward with their bags and huddled around the fallen Wug. We all held our collective breath. All except Ladon-Tosh, who was quickly leaving the pitch. When I turned back to the Mendens, I saw with horror that they were placing a sheet fully over Tilt, including his face. I turned to the old male Wug standing next to me.

  ‘Is he . . . ? He can’t be . . .’ I said shakily, all my limbs tingling and trembling.

  In a quavering voice he said, ‘’Fraid he is, Vega. Ladon-Tosh has killed that poor lad with one blow. I can’t believe it neither.’

  They hoisted Tilt upon a stretcher and carried him off. His sobbing mother came rushing up and grabbed the hand of her dead son that dangled off the side of the stretcher. She walked beside him, overcome with the grief of it all.

  I looked around at other Wugs and they were as stricken as I was. Even Roman Picus stood over by his betting circle with his eyes wide as teacup saucers. As I continued to watch, bits of parchment dribbled unnoticed by him out of his clenched hand and littered the ground around his boots.

  I felt something touch my arm and I looked down.

  I was surprised to see that it was Hestia Loon. She gripped my wrist firmly and said in a fierce whisper, ‘You are not to step one foot inside the quad with the likes of Ladon-Tosh. Not one foot, mind you, Vega. Your poor mum. Why, she would never have allowed it. And since she’s not here to speak up for herself, I will. I’ll talk to Thansius himself if I must, but you are not fighting that . . . that thing.’

  She stormed off, leaving me open-mouthed.

  As I was leaving the pitch a few slivers later, Roman Picus came over and handed me back my two wagered coins. He eyed me nervously and then said in a subdued tone, ‘Listen, Vega, you saw? I mean you saw?’

  ‘I saw,’ I replied quietly.

  I could see his hands were trembling and his lips quivered. ‘It’s not like you and me have always seen eye to eye on things, o’course.’

  ‘No, we haven’t. In fact, you accused me of cheating.’

  ‘I know, I know,’ he said miserably. He gazed over my shoulder at the pitch. ‘But I liked your mum and dad. And Virgil too, truth be known. And there weren’t a finer Wug than your granny, Calliope. And o’course John and all his good work.’

  ‘What are you trying to say, Roman?’

  ‘The thing is . . . ya see, the thing is . . .’ He suddenly pulled me closer. ‘Ain’t enough coin in all of Wormwood to get yourself killed for it, that’s what.’

  ‘You think Ladon-Tosh can beat me?’

  He looked at me as if I had a chimney growing out of my head. ‘Beat you, female? Beat you? They’ll be not a bitta you left to put in the Hallowed Ground, which is where poor Newton Tilt is headed. You can’t fight him, Vega. He’ll kill you just like he done that strapping lad.’

  ‘But I have to fight unless I’m injured like Racksport.’

  ‘Then I’ll shoot you in the foot this night with one of me mortas and Ladon-Tosh can win the damn Duelum!’

  ‘I can’t do that, Roman.’

  ‘Why in the name-a Steeples? Not for the coin. You got by all this time without it.’

  ‘You’re right – it’s not about the coin.’

  If I didn’t fight, I would be right back in Valhall. And now without Morrigone’s support, I would probably end up executed. And if I tried to escape through the Quag without winning the Duelum first, they would go after Delph. My only way through this was to fight. And the thing was, I wanted to fight. I wanted to win. And if I had to beat Ladon-Tosh to do it, so be it. I had never considered myself a warrior female, but right now, that’s exactly how I felt. Like the courageous female on the battlefield from so long ago. She had given her life fighting against something – something that I could sense was evil and wrong. I wondered if I had the courage to die for such a cause.

  Roman gripped my shoulders tighter, tearing me from these thoughts. ‘Vega, for the love of your mum and dad’s memory, please don’t do this.’

  ‘I am touched by your concern, Roman. I really am.’ And I really was. ‘But I have to fight; I have to finish this.’ I paused. ‘I am a Finisher after all.’

  He released his grip and slowly walked off, his head hanging, his arms swinging aimlessly at his sides.

  As I left the pitch, I noted that the combatant board had just been updated. In three more lights, there would be one more bout and then a champion decided, crowned and coined. And perhaps the loser laid to rest in the Hallowed Ground with an eternity to think about the quality of her choices.

  Vega Jane, age fifteen sessions (just), versus Ladon-Tosh, exact age unknown but definitely older than twenty-four sessions.

  My throat started to dry up a bit as I walked back towards my digs. I passed the high street to get there and thus had to traverse pocket after pocket of Wugs talking about one thing only. Well, maybe two. Newton Tilt dying. And me being next.

  I had seen the look in Ladon-Tosh’s eyes. He knew that he’d killed poor Tilt as soon as he struck. And the thing was, he didn’t care. He just didn’t care. Where had a bloke like that come from? But as I walked along, I realized it wasn’t just a question. It was a possible solution too. And I knew just the Wug to ask.

  I had three lights left to find a path to victory and probably save my life. And I meant to take it.

  I was twenty slivers early to work at Stacks the next light. This was something unusual for me, but these were unusual times.

  ‘Good light, Domitar,’ I said as I stood in the doorway of his office.

  He looked up from his desk. ‘What do you want, Vega?’

  ‘I just had a question.’

  ‘What is it?’ he said suspiciously.

  ‘Where does Ladon-Tosh hail from?’

  ‘Would this be because you’re facing him in the final bout of the Duelum?’

  ‘It would. And because he killed poor Newton Tilt with one blow.’

  Domitar bowed his head. ‘I know,’ he said, his voice shaking. ‘’Tis a terrible, terrible thing. The Tilts are fine Wugs. Fine Wugs. For this to happen, well . . .’

  I ventured further into Domitar’s office.

  ‘You look different, Vega,’ he noted as he glanced up.

  ‘I’ve lost weight. Now, about Ladon-Tosh?’

  ‘’Tis complicated.’

  ‘Why?’ I said reasonably enough. ‘Isn’t it easy to tell where Wugs come from?’

  ‘In most cases, yes. In Ladon-Tosh’s case, no.’

  ‘So why is that?’

  ‘I inherited him, as i’twere.’

  ‘You mean he was here before you were at Stacks?’

  ‘That is precisely what I mean.’

  ‘So how can he compete in a Duelum restricted to Wugs no older than twenty-four sessions?’ I snapped.

  ‘A reasonable question you must take up with
Council, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Many Wugs have come up to me and told me not to fight Ladon-Tosh.’

  ‘And Racksport shot himself in the foot with one of his mortas? Curious indeed.’

  I perked up at this. ‘Why? He runs a morta business. Accidents happen.’

  ‘He’s been running that business for five sessions now and had yet to shoot himself.’

  I took this in and said slowly, ‘Meaning it might have been done so I would face Ladon-Tosh in the last bout?’

  ‘The truth is, Vega, you’ve made enemies. And now the price for that is coming due.’ He hesitated, glancing away and then seeming to make up his mind. ‘Though not being on Council, I have learned a little of your situation.’

  ‘Then you know why I must fight?’

  He nodded. ‘And perhaps your ally is now your enemy?’

  ‘Morrigone, like Ladon-Tosh, has quite the mysterious past.’

  ‘I cannot deny that.’

  ‘Words and events have passed between us, many of them unpleasant.’

  ‘She is a formidable Wug, Vega. Perhaps the most formidable of us all.’

  ‘How do I beat Ladon-Tosh, Domitar? For that is why I am here. I believe you know how it can be done. And I need you to tell me or else I will surely perish in the quad.’

  Domitar looked away for a sliver. When he turned to face me, his expression was truly strange. ‘You already know how to defeat him, Vega.’

  I gaped. ‘I do? How can that be?’

  ‘Because you’ve done it before.’

  48

  DUST TO DUST

  After I finished my work that light, I met Harry Two outside and walked back to my digs. I had a bit of food, changed into my blue frock and headed back out. All of Wormwood was heading to the Hallowed Ground. This night we would be putting Newton Tilt into the dirt.

  I had not been to the Hallowed Ground since they had buried my grandmother Calliope. It was a peaceful place, granted, but not a happy one. And there was enough unhappiness in Wormwood without adding to the burden by plunking yourself down in the middle of more. I moved through the rusty iron gates, which bore the image of a mother and a very young. Crowds had already started to gather around the hole.