I TRIED TO FORCE myself into as small a ball of flesh as possible as their footsteps echoed over the wooden floor.
Krone said, “We have found nothing useful. Nothing! It is not possible. The Wug was not that capable, was he?”
I could not hear the other voice clearly, but what I could discern seemed vaguely familiar.
“The ring is the puzzlement for me,” said Krone. “How came it to be back here? I know they were friends, close friends. But why would the accursed Virgil not leave it to his son?”
The other voice murmured something else. It was driving me mad that I couldn’t tell what was being said or who was saying it. And why had Krone used the word accursed in defining my grandfather?
Krone said, “He’s gone into the Quag, that we know. And I believe that Vega Jane knows something about it. They were close. They worked together. She was there that very light.”
The other voice said something, in an even lower tone. It was as though the other Wug knew someone was listening. Then Krone said something that nearly made my heart stop.
“We could tell them it was an Event, like the others. Like Virgil.”
I had to stop myself from jumping out and screaming, What the bloody Hel do you mean by that?
But I didn’t. I was paralyzed.
The other voice murmured back in reply but I could not hear the words.
I knew it was risky but I also knew I had to try. Fighting against my seemingly dead limbs, I eased forward on my knees. There was a bit of looking glass on the far wall. If I could just stretch out enough to see if there was a reflection of Krone and the other Wug in —
The door opened and closed before I could move another inch.
Throwing caution to the wind, I leapt up to find the room empty. I raced over to the window next to the front door and looked out. Disappearing around a corner of a hedge was the blue carriage.
How did I not hear the clops of the sleps as they approached the cottage? Or the turn of the wheels? Was it Morrigone in the carriage? Or Thansius?
But who said what paled next to what I had just heard. The words were imprinted on my brain. We could tell them it was an Event, like the others. Like Virgil.
That clearly meant that the idea of an Event was a lie to cover something else. If my grandfather had not vanished from an Event, what the Hel had happened to him? Well, Krone knew. And so, I’m sure, did Morrigone and the rest of Council. This destroyed everything I had ever believed in, everything I had been taught. This made me wonder what Wormwood really was. And why we were all here. I felt so wonky, I thought I might topple over. I relaxed my breathing and slowed my heart. I did not have time for wonky. I had to get out of here.
I was halfway out the window when the front door opened once more. I didn’t look back, but the heavy boot steps told me it was Krone. He didn’t call out, which meant he hadn’t seen me. Yet.
I slid out on my belly and hit the ground hard. I involuntarily yelped.
“Who’s there?” roared Krone.
I was over the low wall and out of sight of the cottage probably before Krone had even gotten to the window. I have never run that fast in all my sessions. I didn’t slow down until twenty yards from the entrance to Stacks, where I plunked down in the high grass, totally out of breath, my mind reeling from what I had just heard.
A few slivers later, I rubbed my hand after Dis Fidus stamped it. He looked like he had grown a session older since Quentin vanished. His aged chin quivered, making the grayish stubble there appear to be floating against his sallow skin.
“You mustn’t be late, Vega. I’ve set out water for you at your station. The heat is already fierce this light from the furnaces.”
I thanked him and hurried in, still rubbing at the ink on my hand.
The book weighed heavily in my cloak pocket. It was stupid to bring it here, but I didn’t have time to go anyplace else. Where could I hide it that no one could find it? Yet even though I knew I had to part with it, I was desperate to read the book from beginning to end.
I stuck my cloak with the book in my locker and made sure the door was securely fastened. I put on my apron, work trousers and heavy boots before going to the main work area. With my goggles dangling around my neck, I slipped on my gloves and stared at the high pile of unfinished things next to my workstation. I knew it would be a long light’s work. I sipped the cold water that Dis Fidus had left me and began my tasks, working my way through them methodically, reading parchment after parchment of instructions and then improvising when the written directives allowed me to. I worked hard and tried to stay focused even with all the thoughts swirling in my head.
Before I realized it, Dis Fidus was ringing the bell that told us it was time to start packing up.
I was about to change out of my work clothes when we were urgently summoned to the main floor of Stacks. I hurriedly closed my locker and rushed there.
Domitar came out and stood in front of us as we lined up. We all waited as he paced back and forth, while a frightened-looking Dis Fidus hovered in the background. Finally, Domitar grew close enough for me to smell the flame water on his breath. I could only imagine that Council had come down with great force on him. And knowing Domitar as I did, he was about to take whatever pain he had suffered out on us. Thus, I was shocked by his first words.
“Council has ordered that there shall be a reward,” he began.
Though we were all knackered from our labors, this got everyone’s attention.
“Five quarts of flame water. A pound of smoke weed.” He paused for effect. “And two thousand coins.”
A gasp went up among us.
I had no use for the flame water or smoke weed, though I supposed I could barter them for a good deal of eggs, bread, pickles and tins of tea. But two thousand coins represented a vast fortune, perhaps more than I would earn in all my sessions at Stacks. It could change everything about my life. And John’s.
Domitar’s next words, however, dashed any hope I had of earning that fortune.
He said, “This reward will be paid out to whoever provides sufficient information to Council to apprehend the fugitive Quentin Herms. Or it will be paid out to the Wugmort who personally catches Herms and brings him back.”
The fugitive Quentin Herms?
As I looked at Domitar, I found his gaze upon me.
“Two thousand coins,” he repeated for emphasis. “You would no longer need to work here of course. Your life would be one of leisure.”
I looked around at the males. They all had families to support. Their faces were blackened, their hands gnarled and their backs bent from the toil here. A life of leisure? Unthinkable. As I stared at their hungry, exhausted faces, it did not bode well for Quentin.
Domitar added, “We would prefer that he be taken alive. If this is not possible, so be it. But we will need proof. The body, reasonably intact, will do.”
My heart sank and I felt my lips tremble. That was practically a death sentence for poor Quentin. If he had risked everything to escape, I could not imagine him not fighting with all his might to prevent his capture. Much easier to simply put a knife blade in him. I felt tears rush to my eyes, but I shoved them away with my dirty hand.
I once more looked at the males around me. They were now talking in low voices among themselves. I could imagine them all going home, getting whatever weapons were handy and heading out after their meager suppers to hunt down Quentin and get the coins and, with them, their life of leisure. They would probably go in teams, to increase their chances of success.
Domitar said, “That is all. You may leave.”
We all started filing out, but Domitar stopped me.
“A sliver, Vega.”
He waited until the other Stackers were gone. He looked over at Dis Fidus, who still stood trembling in the background.
“Leave us, Fidus,” ordered Domitar, and the little Wug shot out of the room.
Domitar began, “You could use two thousand coins. You and your brother. And your parents at the Care. It’s not inexpensive. And you would have a life of leisure.”
“But then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of seeing you every light, Domitar.”
His narrowed eyes grew even smaller. They looked like little caves from which something astonishingly slimy and dangerous would explode. “You have brains, but sometimes you spectacularly fail to exercise them.”
“A mixed compliment,” I said.
“And an accurate one. Two thousand coins, Vega. And as I said, that includes information leading to Herms’s apprehension. You needn’t catch him yourself.”
“Or kill him. Like you said, that’s also acceptable to earn the reward.”
His eyes opened fully, revealing pupils darker than I had ever realized. “That’s right. That’s what I said because that is what Council has said.”
He stepped aside, implicitly acknowledging that I could leave.
As I started past him, he gripped my shoulder and jerked me toward him. He whispered in my ear.
“You have much to lose, Vega Jane. Far more than you know. Help us to find Quentin Herms.”
He let go of me and I rushed from the room, more scared than I had been in a long time. Including the attack from the garm. At least with the garm, you knew how it could hurt you. With Domitar I wasn’t sure. I just knew I was afraid.
I only stopped running when I was nearly a mile from Stacks.
It occurred to me while I was running that the reward was meaningless to the other Wugs. Quentin had gone into the Quag, which meant no other Wug could find him. The idea of the reward had been directed at me. They wanted information on Quentin. And they thought I alone could provide it.
My lungs heaving, my mind jumping from one awful conclusion to another, I suddenly realized that I hadn’t changed from my work clothes. Even more catastrophic, I had forgotten my cloak. And in the cloak was the book I had found about the Quag.
I felt like I would vomit.
Would Domitar look in my locker and find it? If he did, would I have to become a fugitive as well? Would the reward for my return dead or alive be two thousand coins? Ten thousand coins?
I had to get the book back. But if I returned now, Domitar would grow suspicious.
Then, in a flash, I suddenly had a plan, one that turned everything upside down.