After the bell rang for the end of work at Stacks, I changed back into my threadbare clothes and left to walk back to Wormwood. It did not take long, for the city of Wormwood was compact, like a small fist waiting to hit something. There was the enormous Stacks, the Hospital, the Care, and Learning, where younger Wugs were educated. Then there was the huge Council building, and Steeples with its great many colourful windows. The homes where Wugs lived were either in the city proper or spread across the footprint of the sprawling land. In the centre of the city were lines of shops set across from each other on streets made of wavy cobblestones.
As I trudged along, I passed the Loons. It had been my home for the last two sessions, ever since my mother and father had been sent away to the Care. Loons was a rectangle of warped boards, dirty glass and cracked slate shingles. There were two floors with five small cot rooms on the top floor and six boarders to a room. That added up to thirty Wugmorts with lax hygiene, all living close together.
That’s why I preferred my tree.
I passed by the front door of the Loons, and a Wugmort I knew well stepped out. His name was Roman Picus. He owned the Loons and many other such places. He was wearing his usual garb: a slouch hat with a dent in the middle, blue not overly clean dungarees, white shirt, black waistcoat, luminous orange-red garm-skin boots, and a long, greasy coat. He had whiskers running down both sides of his face, curving like a fish-hook into his sun-reddened cheeks. A heavy bronze timekeeper suspended by a knotty chain hung across the front of his vest.
‘Vega,’ he said grudgingly.
I nodded at him. ‘Roman.’
‘Going to get your brother from Learning?’
‘Yes. Then John and I are meeting Delph at the Care.’
He gave a loud snort. ‘Why you waste your time with that great gormless sack-a nothing, I’ll never know. But I suppose you don’t think too highly of yourself, and I can see why, female.’
‘If you think Delph is such a waste of space, maybe you can fight him in the next Duelum?’
The Duelum was where male Wugs battled each other in hand-to-hand fighting in order to win a great prize. It was really the only sporting contest we had.
Roman’s face reddened. ‘I’m too old for the Duelum. However, in my prime, female—’
‘How many Duelums did you win in your prime, male?’
He grimaced. ‘You best get along, Vega,’ he growled.
‘Speaking of going, where are you off to, Roman?’
He looked like I had slapped him. ‘You’re asking me such a question?’
‘We’re having such a nice conversation, I wanted to keep it going.’
‘D’you want to be written up at the Council, Vega?’
‘Absolutely. I hear that with three or more infractions the offending Wug is eligible for some sort of prize.’
He studied me. ‘Quentin Herms?’ he asked.
‘What of him?’
‘Hear he’s done a bunk.’
‘Maybe,’ I said cautiously.
Roman shrugged and looked at his boots. ‘Maybe a garm got him.’
Garms were wicked beasts that sometimes entered Wormwood from the Quag.
‘All lodging fees collected for the quarter-session?’ I asked, intentionally changing the subject. I did not want to discuss Quentin Herms.
He smiled wickedly and held out a large, grimy hand. ‘Speaking of, I’ll just take yours now, Vega.’
I held out a small sheet of parchment with writing and a seal on it. ‘I paid earlier. Your clerk gave me a bit of coin off for bringing it around and saving him a trip.’
His smile fell away to a frown. ‘Oh, he did, did he? Well, we’ll see about that.’
‘All mouth and no trousers, Roman.’
‘And what exactly do you mean by that?’
‘Your clerk showed me the scroll you signed authorizing the discount. I like to know things like that before I commit my wages to that dung heap you call a lodging.’
Roman could chuck my brother and me out of Loons if he wanted to. Maybe part of me wanted that. But he simply turned and stalked off. I hurried on.
The Learning was located at the other end of the high street. Learning was done in Wormwood, but it was not done with a lot of energy, as though ignorance was somehow better than knowledge. As I stood on the cobblestones and waited, the door opened and youngs started to trickle out.
The last Wug out was always my brother, and his gaze was always downcast.
John Jane was short and skinny, and his hair was dark and nearly as long as mine. John Jane did not look like much on the outside, but there was a great deal going on inside his head. I had seen him make observations about things I’d never thought of. It was only in private moments when we were together that I gained glimpses of what was really going on in his brain.
A shy smile crept across his face when he spotted me, and his shuffle picked up. I held up my tin box. On the way here, I had stopped and picked him some berries, and there was also a bird wing I’d got for him and smoked in the hearth at Stacks. He hurried across the cobblestones, opened the box, and saw the wing. He looked at me and smiled again. There was no food provided during Learning, although the time spent there was long. They said food distracted youngs. I believed a lack of food was far more distracting.
John took my hand with his free one, and we walked along. I looked around. There were clusters of Wugmorts talking in hushed whispers. I also saw Council members in their black tunics scurrying around like rats through rubbish.
After reading the note, it was clear to me that Quentin must have been planning on going into the Quag all along. His note said that what he had left would set me free from Wormwood. My mind leaped ahead to the obvious conclusion that was electrifying and terrifying.
There was some place beyond the Quag. Or so he believed.
I forced my focus back to John.
We had a ritual, John and I. Every other light after Learning, we went to see our parents at the Care, where Wugs were sent when they were unwell and the Mendens at Hospital could do nothing more for them. The place was guarded by a huge Wug named Non. I had often wondered why they needed such security here. But my queries had never been answered.
Non knew me and John because we came so often. But each time, he acted as though it were our first visit. It irritated me terribly but seemed to greatly amuse him.
As we walked up to the Care, I saw Delph step from the deepening shadows of a chestnut tree. His hair was even whiter from working at the Mill all light, and his face and shirt were sweat-stained. He nodded shyly and looked down at John.
‘Hello, Delph,’ said John. He held up his bird wing, which he had been hungrily chewing on. ‘Do you want a bite?’
Delph, I knew, was tempted. But he shook his head. He obviously didn’t want to deprive John of this small bit of food.
We all walked together to the entrance. I gritted my teeth and showed Non the Council parchment that allowed our visits. This was another of my queries that had gone unanswered: Why was permission needed to visit our own parents? He took his time examining the document before he flung it back at me and glared at Delph.
‘But his name ain’t on there.’
Delph took a step back, which made Non grin maliciously.
He said, ‘Y’know, for such a great big Wug, you’re more like a female, ain’t you, Delph? Scared of your own shadow.’ He made a lunge at Delph, and Delph jumped back. Non roared with laughter and tossed me the key to my parents’ room. ‘G’on in, then. Don’t think the likes of him can do much harm.’
I said nothing and didn’t look at Delph, because I knew how embarrassed he would be, but, in my mind, I slaughtered Non over and over.
We passed through the doorway and into a long corridor that was dark and cool.
We passed a Nurse in the hall. She was dressed in a grey cloak with a white cap on her head. She nodded, gave a terse smile, and hurried on.
There were locked doors opening off the long hall. There were brass plates bolted to the doors of each room with names of Wugs I didn’t know, but I had seen some of their families here. They had looked as blank and hopeless as I probably did.
The brass plates were removed only when the Wug whose name was on it ‘slipped away’, as they say in Wormwood. I wondered when our mother and father would slip away. We arrived at the door and I read out their names for what seemed the millionth time. ‘Hector Jane. Helen Jane.’
I unlocked the door and hesitantly stepped in. John followed, and Delph brought up the rear.
There were two cots in the room with a small wooden table set between them. The only illumination seemed to somehow come from the ceiling. There were no windows. When you’re in the Care, apparently sunlight is not required. There were also no chairs for us to sit in. They obviously did not like to encourage long visits.
While Delph hung back, I walked up to the first cot.
My father lay shrunken under a single dark blanket. I remembered him as tall and strong, his face pleasing to look at. I don’t know how you steal someone from the inside and leave a withered outside, but it appeared to have been done to him.
John crept up next to me and placed his hand on top of our father’s. When I looked at John’s face, it was scrunched up, like he was in pain.
I opened my tuck, which I had brought with me from work, and pulled out a cloth soaked in water from the pipes at Stacks. I put it on my father’s forehead. He always seemed hot even though the room was cool. I was careful not to let my fingers touch him. I adored my father and I used to love being hugged by him. But there was something in this room that made me not want to touch him. I had fought against it, but it was like a wall separating us that I couldn’t seem to break through.
I glanced over at Delph, who stood like a statue in the corner. ‘Delph, do you want to come and see him?’
Delph stepped forward. ‘Is he s-s-sleeping?’
‘Something like that, Delph.’
I left John and Delph and went to the next cot.
My mother too was small and shrunken, though she used to be nearly as tall as I am. Her hair, once long and light, was now chopped close to her head, almost like a second skull. The dark blanket covered her withered body, right up to her neck.
My mother had told me many things I needed to know to survive here. But I also sensed there was a part of her that was kept from me.
I opened my tuck again and took out the small bottle of water. I sprinkled some on my mother’s face and watched as it was absorbed into her skin. I don’t know why I did this, maybe to convince myself that there really was someone still in there.
I looked over at John. He glanced up and his gaze drifted to our mother. It seemed to me that John’s heart ached even more seeing her as she now was.
Delph drifted over and gazed down at my mother.
‘She was v-v-very nice t-to me,’ he said.
‘It was her way.’
He reached out a hand but didn’t touch her. Instead, it seemed like he was tracing just above where the drops of water had been taken into her skin.
Twenty slivers later, we walked back down the dark, cool hall and approached the door where Non stood guard. I braced myself for more inane comments. Why do you bother coming? Do your parents look better this light? How could that possibly be?
Yet, Non wasn’t there. But someone else was.
The figure was tall, looming, substantial. He seemed to fill the broad hall with his bulk. His robe was a dull burgundy, denoting his position on the Council. He held the top job. There was no one above him.
His name was Thansius. In many respects he was the Council. By comparison, Jurik Krone was but a gnat on a slep’s hindquarters.
John had glimpsed Thansius too, and I heard him gasp. And one glance at poor Delph showed he was about to faint.
When we reached Thansius, he did not move. He just stood there. He was taller even than Delph. His shoulders seemed to touch each side of the hall. It was said that in his youth, no Wug ever bested Thansius in a Duelum. Up close, the burgundy robe seemed like a sheet of blood frozen solid.
When he spoke, the low voice, though deep and dignified, still seemed insubstantial next to his large body. But I was riveted to every syllable.
He said, ‘A word, Vega Jane. I require a word.’