Bring Me the Head of Ivy Pocket

by Caleb Krisp

Then she turned. Walked to the wall tapestry. Lifted the edge. Behind it was a door, which slid away as soon as she touched it. Justice Hallow passed through it, and I quickly followed. Finding myself in a very different sort of apartment. This one had a carved oak roof, with a glorious lantern hanging from the center. Rich woven carpets upon the floor. A canopied fireplace carved with daggers. Heavy furniture covered in red and black silk. The whole room smelled of peaches and oranges.

  “This is my little secret,” said Justice Hallow. “Every great leader has a few of those.”

  Along one wall was a long row of glass cabinets bursting with objects both beautiful and strange—hand-painted vases, a dark sceptre sparkling with green stones, and ivory statues stood alongside shrunken heads, bones that appeared to have been dipped in gold, and glass bottles filled with what looked an awful lot like tongues. I looked at my granny with a certain amount of confusion.

  “Prospa has a dark and fascinating history,” she said softly. “I am a keen collector of remnants from that time. The tongues belong to royal subjects who displeased the Queen.” She strolled to an ornate desk and sat down. Motioned to the chair opposite her. “Now, what is it you wished to tell me, Ivy?”

  I hurried over and launched into the story. Told her everything as briefly as I could—given that the portal was dying and time running out. When I was done, I ended with a few poetic words, “Now I am almost certain, dear Granny, that you will wish to have me around forever, shower me with hugs and kisses, cash and cake. Which is awfully sweet—but quite impossible. For I already have a home in London and, as it turns out, a mother. She’s your daughter, so you’ve probably met.”

  Granny said nothing. Just smiled silently.

  “You’re overwhelmed,” I said brightly. “The shock and whatnot.”

  She opened a drawer, took something out, and slid it across the table toward me. It was a photograph (in color, no less). Of a girl. A girl who looked remarkably like me.

  “That is a photograph of my sister, Florence,” said Justice Hallow. “She died a few days before her fourteenth birthday. There is quite a resemblance between the two of you—don’t you agree?”

  So Granny had known who I was all along. Miss Frost’s hunch had been right. Which was infuriating. And rather confusing. “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “Don’t you?” Justice Hallow sat back in her chair. “When your other half first came through the portal, it was plain to see that she was no ordinary soul. Her skin did not glow, and she looked exactly like my sister. As impossible as it seemed, I knew that this girl could not be anything less than my daughter’s child. And as my daughter’s child, you had both Prosparian blood and the other kind. I also understood that there was a real chance you might find your way here—indeed, I hoped you would come.” Justice Hallow waved her hand in my general direction. “And here you are.”

  There was a knot in my stomach now. A growing dread. “Why did you poison the portal, Granny?”

  “To sever the ties between our worlds forevermore,” she said simply. “That chapter in Prospa’s history is over.”

  The floor shook again. A low, deep rumble. A painting on the wall wobbled. The windows rattled. Justice Hallow noticed it too, a frown carved in her smooth flesh. But I had more important matters to discuss. “But what about the Shadow and the remedies? Without the portal, they—”

  “The remedies have been moved for their own safety.” She motioned to the window and the concourse below. “The gatekeeper has raised my people’s expectations about you, Ivy—they are going to be sorely disappointed. That is why my guards are attempting to clear the city and send them all home.”

  “But the sick will die without the portal,” I said. “I think it’s a beastly business, stealing souls, but are you not meant to help your people?”

  My granny looked at me in silence. Her blue eyes were stunning, but there was a great coldness there. I still had questions . . . but I suspected I would not like the answers. “Why did you move us last night—Rebecca and the other me?”

  “Rebecca was a tool, something I could use to ensure you didn’t slip back to your world using the Clock Diamond. While I was unable to locate the necklace, I knew you would have it within reach. And I also knew that you couldn’t take Rebecca with you using the stone. As for your other half, the plan was always to reunite the two of you.” She sighed. “After all, I couldn’t kill you until you were whole.”

  I stood up. “Well, it was lovely meeting you, Granny. Do let’s keep in touch. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go back and collect my friend. Now you mustn’t go to any trouble—a farewell luncheon or bunting. We will just slip down to the portal and be on our way.”

  “That won’t be possible.” Justice Hallow stepped out from behind the desk, and I saw that she held an elegant silver pistol. “My daughter is dead to me, and as her child, you are little more than proof of her betrayal. She ran from me as if I were a monster. I didn’t think I could despise a human being more than Anastasia, and then you appeared.”

  Which was monstrous. “Let me return home, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

  “Anastasia had no need for a mother,” she said calmly, “so why should you?”

  And at last I truly understood. “You poisoned the portal to stop my mother and me from being together.” I was shaking my head. “It is vengeance.”

  “It is justice!” Granny pushed the pistol against my heart. “In another life I might have admired a granddaughter who didn’t cower in the face of greater strength. Who was brave and loyal. But we must accept the times in which we live. Even if you weren’t my granddaughter, you are a threat to the one thing in this world that makes my heart sing.”

  “Power,” I heard myself say.

  She didn’t deny it. She didn’t have to. It was there in her proud, bald head. And in her hidden apartment, fit for a monarch. And in her ravenous eyes. Being Justice of Prospa was everything—all else was a hindrance to be disposed of.

  “I would shoot you,” she said, “but there is the mess and the noise to consider.”

  “Terribly sporting of you, Granny.”

  Using the pistol, she forced me back until I hit the glass cabinets. “Might I suggest death by cold porridge? Or possibly a firm talking-to and straight to bed without supper?”

  I swung quickly, hitting the wicked creature’s arm. My plan was for the gun to go flying across the room. But Justice Hallow barely flinched. She brought the pistol right back to my chest—and cocked the hammer. “I am stronger than I look,” she said.

  “Crazier too,” I added.

  But I was trapped and we both knew it. With a satisfied smile Justice Hallow opened one of the glass doors and turned a small ivory statue of a woman holding a fob watch. As she did, I heard a hissing sound. Then the cabinet lurched forward as if it was being pushed from behind, and slid open. Revealing a small room just wide enough for a person to stand.

  “This little chamber is lined with steel and, once closed, is utterly devoid of ventilation.” She indicated with a wave of her pistol that I was to step inside. “I thought suffocation was the best option.”

  “Whereas I thought we might talk things through, agree you were a monstrous fruitcake, then go our separate ways.”

  Justice Hallow grabbed my arm and pushed me into the small space. It was so snug the walls seemed to press in, holding me like a vise. I attempted to jump out. But the pistol quickly forced me back in.

  “It’s not the noblest end to your journey,” said Granny, “but there is a certain beauty in locking you away in my cabinet of curiosities.”

  “Wouldn’t it make more sense to stuff me and mount me on the mantelpiece?” I said, gulping up a storm. “Let’s head to the nearest taxidermist and work out the details.”

  “You should have stayed in your world, Ivy, and left mine alone.”

  Justice Hallow reached for the ivory statue. With a simple turn, she would seal me in. And my life would be over. She cl
asped the statue. As she did, a gloved hand snaked around her neck. A dagger flew to her throat. Behind her a figure loomed, wearing a wicked grin.

  “Hello, Ivy,” said Miss Always.

  Stepping out of my tomb felt glorious. Miss Always pulled the pistol from Justice Hallow’s hand and pushed her away. Glanced at the hidden chamber.

  “I’d heard rumors about your nasty little vault,” she said, “but I thought it was a fairy tale.”

  “The tomb has been a great comfort,” said Justice Hallow, lifting her hand and stroking her crinkled neck. “I’ve only had need to use it once or twice—the threat is usually enough.”

  “But not today.” Miss Always pushed the spectacles up her nose, and I noticed the scar on her forehead from Amos’s rock. “While killing Ivy has a great deal of merit—I once planned to do it myself—I came to see that she has a higher purpose. You knew she had survived the stone, that she might be the one we were looking for—yet you were going to kill her?”

  “I will kill her,” said Justice Hallow calmly. “Miss Always, you don’t suppose that either of you are getting out of here alive? My guards will—”

  “Your guards are outside trying to stop the revolution,” interrupted Miss Always.

  “And the rest are getting thrashed by Miss Frost even as we speak,” I chimed in.

  The ground shook again. This time more violently. The cabinets rattled, the glass doors swung open, and many of Justice Hallow’s ornaments tumbled out. Miss Always’s eyes darted about. Then returned to Justice Hallow. “What have you done?”

  Granny sighed. Said nothing.

  “She poisoned the portal,” I declared. “I’m not sure if that’s what is making the whole place shake, but the portal is closing this very moment and I must cross back to my world before—”

  “How could you be so foolish?” hissed Miss Always. She lunged at Justice Hallow, pressing the dagger’s blade to her throat. “You want to kill the girl so she can never be the Dual. And kill the portal so it cannot bring back souls to heal the sick. Do you not want to stop the Shadow? Do you not care?”

  Granny met Miss Always’s gaze and did not flinch. “I am the Chief Justice. I know what is best. The portal will close in one hour, and that will be an end to it.”

  Miss Always shook her head in wonder. “And what will you tell your people?”

  “I will tell them that the gatekeeper stole into Prospa House under the cover of darkness and poisoned the portal.”

  Miss Always looked more impressed than upset. “Blame it all on me? Clever.”

  “When they discover that you have not delivered the Dual, that there is no such girl, they will be ready to believe the worst of you,” said Justice Hallow, her eyes sparkling with feverish excitement. “And I will be there to carry them through this great tragedy. The sick will perish and the well shall rebuild. A way to start again—with my guiding hand.”

  “You’re off your rocker, dear,” I said helpfully.

  The floor shook again. The walls trembled. I heard a violent crack up above; then the lantern dropped from the ceiling, smashing just a few feet away.

  “Prospa House was built over the portal,” said Miss Always. “It will not survive what you have done.”

  “You are wrong,” said Justice Hallow. “The portal will be dead soon enough. Prospa House can survive a few tremors.”

  “It won’t,” said Miss Always sadly. “It is happening already.”

  Justice Hallow paled then. I saw it. “You are wrong,” she repeated, though she no longer sounded sure.

  “What a miserable end for the great Justice Hallow,” said Miss Always, the sharpness returning to her voice. “By the end of today, this house will be in ruin and Prospa shall have a new queen.”

  I knew what she meant. That I was the Dual. Justice Hallow knew it as well. Which is why she flew at Miss Always, pushing her back. Miss Always stumbled. Justice Hallow reached for the gun. Miss Always spun around. Throwing a kick. Justice Hallow was flung against the cabinets with force. Glass shattering around her. My evil granny let out a painful groan.

  “Well done,” I said, clapping my hands.

  Miss Always didn’t respond. She charged at Justice Hallow and practically threw her in the vault. I ran over. Put my hand on the ivory statue and twisted it. In an instant, the cabinets were sliding together. “Lovely to meet you, Granny!” I said, giving a parting wave.

  The tomb slid shut, sealing her in. Miss Always threw the pistol into the fire. Looked about and took a deep breath. I was already hurrying from the room. “Thank you, dear. Couldn’t have done it without you. Now if you don’t mind, I have a friend to collect and a portal to pass through. Clock’s ticking and all of that.”

  Miss Always stepped in to my path. Pointed the dagger right at me. “Time to meet your destiny, old friend.”

  18

  The dress was white and rather pretty. Miss Always threw it at me and insisted I change before my grand entrance. Before taking leave of Prospa House, we went down to the portal—Miss Always wanted to see it for herself. The ground trembled again as we entered the chamber. The air was positively rank, and the dark water bubbled furiously.

  Miss Always looked upon it with something like sorrow. “It is truly dying.”

  “How long until it closes?”

  “Hard to say.” She looked at her watch—it was just after eleven. “Justice Hallow said an hour. I suspect she is right.”

  “Which is why I must go and fetch Rebecca.” I took off toward the tunnel. But I didn’t get far. For Miss Always grabbed the collar of my dress and yanked me back.

  “Your future is here in Prospa, Ivy.” Then she pushed me rather roughly toward the spiral staircase. “No more games. It’s time.”

  Miss Always had been rather busy. Spreading the word throughout the land. She was responsible for the signs and the pamphlets scattered all over the kingdom, telling her people that the Dual was coming today. Inviting the sick and dying to defy the law and Justice Hallow’s guards—and flood the city to witness the end of their torment.

  And they had come. Thousands of them. As we came through Justice Hallow’s office, passing through the brass doors and out onto the terrace, I gasped. Truly gasped. Down below, the concourse was positively heaving with people. A great ocean of them, women and children, men and old folk, swarming around the concourse and the great lake.

  “They have all come for you, Ivy.” Miss Always was behind me, the dagger pointed at my back—handily concealed in the sleeve of the red cloak she was now wearing. “Today you make history.”

  “How do you suppose I’m going to do this?” I said, unable to take my eyes off the crowd. “Wave a magic wand and cure them all? Well, I don’t have a wand, you beastly rotter!”

  Miss Always pointed to the great lake and the platform in the middle, suspended over the sparkling water. “That is how,” she declared eagerly. “The legend of the Dual prophesizes that water will be the agent of healing—and the water here is something of a mystery. Beneath the lake is a dry clay bed, yet for centuries fresh water laden with healing minerals has bubbled up without explanation. Don’t you see? This must be the place.”

  “You’re at least two chickens short of a picnic, dear.” I looked at the masses milling about the dozens of water pumps around the great lake. Many in the crowd had empty buckets and jars at the ready. “These poor creatures will tear us limb from limb when they discover I’m not the girl they think I am.”

  Was I the Dual? I truly didn’t know. But now that I was fully human again, it didn’t seem possible. Or rational. All I could think about was the portal. And the time. So I pulled away, ready to bolt. But Miss Always grabbed my arm and held it tightly. “Your options are death or glory,” she said. “Which do you choose, Ivy?”

  “I want to go home,” I said.

  “You are home.”

  It was true in a way. My mother was from here. I had Prosparian blood in my veins. Yet my home was in England, with her.


  But Miss Always cared nothing for my heart’s desire—which is why she was marching me down the stairs. As we stepped onto the concourse, the crowd began to part. Muttering and pointing and gasping. “It’s her!”

  “There she is!”

  “Little, ain’t she?”

  “We’re with you, Ivy!”

  “God bless the Dual!”

  While there were some finely dressed folk, most looked like farmers and villagers—plain dresses and worn suits. Many had the dreaded mark of the Shadow. A great ocean of gray faces and hollow eyes. I learned from Miss Always that they had come by the hundreds in wagons and on foot. Defying the ban on horses and carriages, they had swarmed into the city. All in hope of a cure.

  Justice Hallow’s guards were hideously outnumbered and had retreated inside Prospa House—though a few stayed outside to watch the spectacle with the rest of the kingdom.

  Some of the crowd called out to the gatekeeper, thanking her for delivering the Dual. Miss Always lapped it up like a kitten to milk. “I have done what any gatekeeper would do,” she said grandly. “Ridding Prospa of the Shadow is all the thanks I need.”

  “Horse poop,” I muttered to her. “Lily is dead because of you.”

  “Who is Lily?”

  We passed the concourse and were walking around the side of the great lake, the crowd swelling by the minute. “The poor girl who fell from the canyon, you hideous hag!”

  “Oh.” She sighed. “That was unfortunate. It wasn’t my intention to kill her.”

  “Maybe not, but killing is a sport for you. Look at poor Mr. Banks and the Duchess of Trinity.”

  “I made sure the stone was able to do its work,” she said, smiling madly at the passing crowd. “Ensuring a regular supply of souls is my sacred mission, and I have done it proudly.”

  “You’re a monster.”

  “I am the gatekeeper.”

  A wooden gangway had been set up, leading to the platform in the middle of the great lake. It was clear that this was where Miss Always was leading me. We were nearly there when I heard a familiar voice call my name. I looked across the way and saw a boy. He was holding a box, with a strap around his neck. His face was ashen, the skin a light gray. It was Amos. I pulled away from Miss Always.