All of us, even Gwendolyn, pressed our hands to our ears, but it did little to block out the banshee’s wailing—a wail that sounded like a cross between a cat screeching and a wolf howling at the moon.
“AAAIIIEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!” Cleona cried again, and the entire Odditorium shook so violently that I was certain the engine room’s ceiling would come crumbling down on us at any moment.
“I’ve changed my mind!” Mr. Grim shouted. “I will not ride the wasp but will allow Master Grubb to do so in my place!”
And just as quickly as she began, Cleona stopped her wailing. She blinked her eyes a couple of times, then wiped her cheeks with her sleeve and looked around as if nothing had happened.
“Good heavens!” cried Lord Dreary.
“Forgive the experiment,” said Mr. Grim. “Are you all right, Cleona?”
“Oh yes, Uncle. Perfectly fine now, thank you.”
“Experiment?” asked Lord Dreary.
“You see, as Cleona is a banshee who has attached herself to my family, based on my decision to ride the wasp, she foretold my doom. However, when I changed my mind and agreed to let Master Grubb ride the wasp, Cleona stopped wailing. But Master Grubb, you see, is now also part of our family. And so—well, do you see where I’m going with this, Lord Dreary?”
“You mean, the fact that she stopped wailing when you agreed to let Grubb ride the wasp indicates that the boy will be safe on his mission?”
“At this point in time, yes. However, as I just demonstrated, the future can be altered by even the most insignificant decisions made in the present. And so, Master Grubb, if for some reason Cleona should start wailing again, you must return inside at once. Do you understand, lad?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You must also be very careful and precise in your instructions to Number One. For example,” he said, leaning over the wasp. “Fly over to the sphere, Number One.”
Immediately the wasp buzzed its wings and lifted off. It flew directly to the crystal sphere, but then just hovered there, as if awaiting further instructions.
“So you see, Master Grubb,” said Mr. Grim, “if you wish Number One to land, you must tell it to do so.”
Mr. Grim instructed the wasp to land on top of the sphere, and it obeyed.
“Now, Number One,” he said, “until I tell you otherwise, you will follow only Master Grubb’s instructions. Do you understand?”
From atop the sphere, the wasp nodded its head and batted its antennae.
“Number One,” said Mr. Grim, “fly back to me and land at my feet.”
The wasp did not move.
“Go ahead, then, Master Grubb. Tell it to fly back to you and land at your feet.”
“Number One, fly back to me and land at my feet.”
The wasp lifted off the sphere and did as I commanded.
“Very good,” said Mr. Grim.
He crossed to a panel on the opposite wall and pulled a lever, whereupon a porthole opened in the floor, and a cool salt breeze flooded the engine room.
“Climb aboard,” said Mr. Grim, and I mounted the wasp. “Hold on tight to that joint casing there,” he added, indicating the raised rim running across the wasp’s middle segment. “And be sure to keep your appendages clear of the wasp’s wings.”
“No need to worry, sir,” I said. “I don’t have any appendages, far as I can tell.”
“Your arms and your legs, lad,” said Mr. Grim, and I swallowed hard and nodded. “Now,” Mr. Grim continued, “despite the complexity of the Odditorium’s inner workings, the outside is relatively simple. Number One should be able to spot the Sirens’ eggs quite easily. However, if you should notice any other objects inconsistent with the rest of the exterior, direct Number One to fly toward it, and judge for yourself what belongs there and what doesn’t. Understand?”
“I hope so, Mr. Grim.”
“Very well, then, my young apprentice. Command Number One to fly you ’round the outside of the Odditorium. And good luck to you, lad.”
“Right-o,” Nigel said. “Good luck, Grubb.”
“Good luck,” said Lord Dreary and Cleona. Gwendolyn just cooed. And as I grabbed hold of the wasp’s joint casing, I took a deep breath and said:
“Fly me ’round the outside of the Odditorium, Number One!”
The wasp batted its antennae and crawled forward, and then all of a sudden it seemed as if I had fallen into a cold black well. And had I not lost my breath, I most certainly would have screamed. The moon was full, the sky clear and bright with all its stars, and I could easily make out the silver rolling waves rushing toward me.
Only then did I realize that Number One and I had dropped through the porthole.
Up, up! I tried to shout, but I could not find my voice.
The wasp’s polished steel wings began to buzz frantically at my sides—but still we kept dropping, the waves coming at me faster and faster. I closed my eyes, certain that at any moment we would crash. Then, at the last second it seemed, Number One veered sharply and we began to climb.
I opened my eyes, and in an ice-cold whoosh my voice returned.
“I’m flying!” I cried. “I’m flying!”
Number One leveled herself and picked up speed. The cold salt wind whipped at my cheeks, but my entire body felt on fire with excitement. And as I gazed out across the silver sea to the stars on the horizon, for a moment I forgot all about the tracking mechanisms.
Then Number One swerved unexpectedly to her left, jolting me so hard that I nearly slid off her back. I shrieked and grabbed hold of her antennae, and the wasp gently bucked and hitched me back into place.
“My apologies, Number One,” I said, panting with fear. “I’ll hang on tighter from now on.”
The wasp nodded and batted her antennae, then banked into a steep climb. And as I tightened my grip on her joint casing, I caught sight of the Odditorium high above us.
Silhouetted against the stars, Mr. Grim’s mechanical wonder resembled a great black cannonball with a flowing tail of glistening yellow smoke. But as we drew closer, the outline of the Odditorium’s legs and toothy battlements turned the cannonball into a crowned spider with a single, glowing blue eye.
“Well done, Grubb!” Cleona called out, and I realized the spider’s blue eye was in fact the light from the balcony. And there was Cleona, hovering just above Mr. Grim’s pipe organ. “Tell Number One to locate the tracking mechanisms!” she shouted.
“You heard her,” I said to Number One. “You locate the tracking mechanisms, and I’ll keep a lookout for anything else!”
The wasp batted its antennae and leveled into our first pass. We hadn’t far to travel before I caught sight of the Siren’s egg flashing about ten feet below the battlements. Number One swooped in beside it, and in the blue light from her eyes we discovered a large black egg as big as my head.
“It must be attached with a clamp of some sort,” I said, but the wasp just hovered there, her antennae waving back and forth as if examining it. Then the egg flashed and Number One began tapping away at it with her hammer and chisel. After a few moments the egg came loose and fell, flashing one more time just before it disappeared far below us with a splash.
“Well done, Number One,” I said. “Now, let’s see if there are any more of those tracking mechanisms flashing about.”
And with that, Number One banked away from the Odditorium for another pass.
“Look!” I exclaimed as we came round the front again. “There’s another one of those eggs lodged under the balcony!”
Without being told, Number One swooped in toward it.
“Were you able to remove the tracking mechanism?” asked Mr. Grim, rushing out onto the balcony. Nigel and Lord Dreary followed close behind.
“Yes, sir, but there’s another one flashing just below your feet!”
“Good heavens!” cried Lord Dreary.
“Nice work, Grubb!” Nigel shouted, and then the wasp and I were under the balcony.
“Y
ou know what to do,” I said, and Number One quickly went to work. This egg took some coaxing to come loose, but finally it fell and plunged into the sea, flashing one last time just beneath the surface in a brilliant circle of red.
“Another job well done,” I said. “Now, Number One, rise up and hover before the balcony so I can speak to Mr. Grim.”
The wasp pulled away from the Odditorium and did as I commanded.
“The egg is gone now, sir,” I said.
“Are there others?” asked Mr. Grim.
“I didn’t see any, sir. But I’d need another pass or two to be certain.”
“A worthy apprentice, indeed,” said Mr. Grim. “Very well, then, Master Grubb: another pass or two.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Grim!”
“And try not to look so pleased with yourself, will you?” he said, smiling.
“I will, sir. I mean, I won’t, sir. I mean—another pass, Number One!”
And just like that we were off again.
“Be careful, Grubb!” Nigel called.
“And don’t forget to look for other objects!” shouted Mr. Grim.
“I won’t forget, sir!” I shouted back, and as Mr. Grim and the others disappeared around the side of the Odditorium, I leaned forward and said, “Would you please shine your eyes a little brighter, Number One?”
The wasp nodded her head and her eyes grew brighter.
“Very good, Number One. Turn your head toward the Odditorium and shine your light on the outside as we pass. I should think that if we travel from top to bottom and then from bottom to top, that would allow us to cover the most ground.”
Number One nodded and quickly turned upward.
“Go slowly, Number One,” I said. “Other than those Sirens’ eggs, I’m not quite sure what I’m looking for.”
Number One nodded and batted her antennae. And as we crested the battlements at the rear of the Odditorium and turned downward again, in the blue light from her eyes I noticed a Shadesman’s battle-ax lodged in one of the Odditorium’s massive leg joints.
“That doesn’t belong there,” I said. “Stop here, Number One, and see if you can’t remove that battle-ax.”
Number One pulled the battle-ax loose and let it drop.
“You’re very strong, Number One. I certainly could have used a friend like you back home.”
The wasp again batted her antennae and flew on. And when we reached the bottom of the Odditorium, I commanded Number One to circle the lower gunnery. Finding nothing unusual there, we turned upward again, careful to avoid the Odditorium’s large rear-exhaust vent, out of which a trail of Gwendolyn’s yellow energy fizzled and popped.
“As soon as the Odditorium is charged again,” I said, “the blue animus will come out of here too. Mr. Grim said the Yellow Fairy dust makes it safe. The blue controls the steering mechanisms and the yellow makes the Odditorium fly. They work together to become something better. Just like you and me, right, Number One?”
The wasp nodded her head, and we continued on with our flight pattern—up and down, down and up, my eyes combing every inch of the Odditorium’s exterior. I did not find anything else other than what appeared to be battle damage, and by the time Number One and I came round to the front again, I saw that Mrs. Pinch and Broom had joined the others on the balcony.
“All clear, Master Grubb?” asked Mr. Grim.
“Yes, sir,” I replied, hovering before him. “I believe we’re finished now.”
“Well, it’s about time,” said Mrs. Pinch, squinting at me over the balustrade. “And blind me if I’m going to reheat your supper. Letting this boy fly around on wasps—your heads need oiling, the lot of you!”
Cleona giggled.
“You heard her,” said Mr. Grim, smiling. “Let’s clear off the balcony so Master Grubb can land Number One, after which we shall retire to the dining room—”
It was then that I heard a woman singing—soft and far away at first, but at the same time loud enough to drown out Mr. Grim and the buzzing from Number One’s wings.
Who could be singing out here? I wondered, and as I turned in the song’s direction, in the distance I saw a flowing black shape coming toward me against the stars.
The inside of my head grew heavy, and I felt a tingling behind my eyeballs. Then all at once the singing grew louder and I felt myself being pulled forward.
“The song,” I said. “It’s—it’s—beautiful.”
“What’s wrong, Grubb?” Nigel called out from somewhere far behind me.
“What on earth?” said Lord Dreary. “Do you hear that singing, Alistair?”
The black shape drew closer, and I thought I heard myself tell Number One to fly toward it, but the voice upon my lips seemed not to be my own.
“The song,” I said to myself. “The song…”
“Good heavens!” cried Mr. Grim. “Stop your ears! All of you! Don’t—listen—it’s—it’s—beautiful!”
“Beautiful!” Nigel and Lord Dreary said together.
And then I heard Mrs. Pinch cry out in horror.
Wonder what all the fuss is about, I thought. No matter. Just listen to the song.
Yes, all that mattered now was the song, and the shape—no, not a shape, but a figure. Yes, that was it! A black figure of a bird flying toward me…“Snap out of it, Mr. Grim!” shouted Mrs. Pinch. “All of you, snap out of it!”
“It’s too late!” said Cleona. “Look!”
Is it a bird? I wondered. Or is it a woman?
“Come back, Number One!” Mrs. Pinch called from somewhere behind me. “Oh, where did she fly off to? I can’t see her!”
“She’ll only obey Grubb!” cried Cleona. “Only Uncle can command her otherwise!”
Yes! I thought. It’s a woman! But then the woman broke apart. “No,” I heard myself say. “Not just one woman, but five!”
“Don’t listen to them, Grubb!” shouted Mrs. Pinch, but her voice was far away. “Where is the boy? Can you see the boy, Cleona?”
“They’ve got him, too!” Cleona cried. “The samurai, Mrs. Pinch! Go get the samurai!”
In the blue light from Number One’s eyes I could clearly see the women as they fanned out beside the leader—five beautiful women, with ivory skin and flowing black hair, flying toward me on the wings of angels.
“Angels,” I whispered.
And their song…they were singing the most beautiful song I’d ever heard.
“Beautiful,” was all I could say.
The women, one of whom carried a large black barrel, were closer now. Four of them flew past me toward the Odditorium while one remained behind—hovering there in midair with her arms extended only a few feet away from Number One’s antennae.
“Are you an angel?” I asked.
“Come to me, child,” she said, beckoning, but her singing continued in my head.
How can she speak and sing at the same time? I wondered.
It doesn’t matter, I thought.
“Come to me, child,” the angel said again, and only then did I realize I was standing on Number One’s back.
“No, Cleona, you’ll die!” cried Mrs. Pinch from somewhere, but again the voice in my head told me it didn’t matter.
“That’s it,” said the angel. “Jump, my child. Jump!”
And so I jumped.
Time seemed to slow down, and as I floated in slow motion toward the angel, her face dissolved into a horrible mask of slimy blue scales. Her eyes glowed as red as two burning coals, and her lips parted wide to reveal a forked serpent’s tongue slithering out between a pair of fangs.
“You’re mine!” the angel hissed.
No, not an angel, I realized in horror, but a monster!
And then her claws reached out to catch me.
I tried to scream, but my throat would not allow it—when suddenly a blinding blue light flashed across my eyes.
“Noooooo!” Cleona cried, close beside me now, and the monster hissed and shielded her eyes.
“Cleona?�
� I whispered in a daze, and then there she was, looking down at me.
“Sirens,” Cleona said, straining to speak. “Trying to—drown you—”
“Sirens?” I muttered, shaking my head. The singing had stopped. And I was vaguely aware of being carried—yes, that was it. Cleona had caught me and was now carrying me in her arms. But then everything—the stars, the sea, the Odditorium—began to swirl around me in a haze. I could see that I was heading back toward the balcony, but something was happening there. A brawl of some sort.
There were samurai everywhere, and Mr. Grim stood atop his pipe organ as if he meant to jump. Mrs. Pinch uttered a strange incantation, and then Broom flew of her own accord straight for one of the Sirens.
The Siren shrieked, and Broom began beating her in midair. Mrs. Pinch pulled Mr. Grim back onto the balcony, and the two of them fell out of sight behind the pipe organ. Nigel just stood there in a daze as the samurai slashed away at the Sirens. And Lord Dreary—incredibly, Lord Dreary was brawling with a samurai too.
“Unhand me!” he shouted as the warrior wrestled him back inside the library. “I want to go with them! I want to go!”
The Sirens darted this way and that, screeching and batting their claws, and then one of them grabbed hold of Broom and snapped her in half.
At the same time, a samurai warrior leaped atop Mr. Grim’s pipe organ and cut the Siren down. The Siren shrieked and plummeted toward the sea—her great black barrel and the broken broomstick plummeting into the water after her with a splash.
“Water?” I said, my head beginning to clear. “What was that again about banshees and water?”
“Cleona!” cried Mrs. Pinch, popping her head over the balustrade. “Come back, Cleona!”
“Cleona?” I muttered, trying to remember what Mr. Grim had said. But when I saw the look of sorrow in Cleona’s eyes, when I saw the pain in her face and her blue light begin to dim, in a rush my senses returned to me.
“No!” I cried. “You’re not supposed to fly over water!”
But the tears flowing down her cheeks told me it was too late.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice weak and raspy. “I don’t even have the strength to wail for you.”
Alistair Grim's Odditorium Page 16
