Normally the monkey looks as though he’s having a pretty good time. Tonight, however, the gaping mouth looked as if it was screaming with horror, not fun, and the glowing eyes seemed to sparkle with rage. Cheerful things always look melancholy in the dark—but even so, there was something about the monkey’s attitude that made my spine feel shivery. A short line of entities was queued up before the Monkey’s Maw. Clearly, Woodward’s was open for business.
“Come,” the Quetzal said, and we got in line behind a fire elemental. The elemental was only about the height of Gesilher, Udo’s six-year-old brother; his skin was a dark brick red, and his hair was on fire. Tiny flames licked at his temples, and a cowlick of acrid smoke drifted up from the top of his head. The line moved quickly, and we soon reached the front.
The gatekeeper was a boy in a ragged redingote, buttoned up against the night’s chill. He didn’t look more than two years old; he was sitting on a stool and his swinging feet didn’t even touch the ground. His tiny red lips were distorted by the black cigarillo he was smoking, and a small top hat perched upon his white-blond curls. In other circumstances, he would have been adorable. Right now it seemed to me that anyone—anything—that cute had to be a trap.
He spoke to the Quetzal in Huitzil. She hissed back at him and he waved us on. Into the Maw we went, stepping over sharp wooden teeth onto a thick plush ruglike tongue. During the day, you can see the light at the end of the tunnel and know that you are not really being swallowed alive. But now, only darkness lay ahead and it was easy to imagine that we were on our way to the belly of the beast. Within a few steps, my eyes adjusted and I realized that the blackness was tinged with a diffused glow that was coming from Axila—and me, as well. I held up my hands and saw their outline gleaming pale pink. “I’m glowing.”
I felt the movement of the Quetzal turning to me. “It is the Gramatica.”
“What do you mean?”
But she didn’t answer. Ahead, the darkness lifted into silver light. We were passing through a long gallery of mirrors, and Axila Aguila was walking so quickly I had to trot to keep up. I was only able to catch quick glimpses of myself; but these glimpses were not happy ones. Was I really that short? Had my eyeliner run that badly? I had two chins!
“Don’t look to the left.” The Quetzal grabbed my arm and pulled me along even faster. “It does not reflect true—it only magnifies your flaws until they seem monstrous. Don’t look to the right—that shows only vanity.”
Of course, I immediately looked to the right and was charmed by what I saw there. How bright my eyes and firm my chin, and what perfect ringlets my hair. How could I ever have felt ugly—
“Come! Come! Do not allow yourself to be caught!” Axila Aguila bundled me along. Suddenly the mirrors were gone and we were inside the Gardens.
During the day, the Gardens are bright with color and cheerful with the sounds of the sideshow music and children’s screams of joy. Now everything was shadowy and hushed. Here and there a torch flared along the pathway, but the light seemed oddly pale and didn’t travel far. I heard the distant sound of music, dissonant and out-of-key, mingling with high-pitched howls and screeches. Directly ahead, garish lights glittered above the treetops: the lights of the fun-fair and the midway. I didn’t think I wanted to see who was on the rides or playing the games, and I knew I didn’t want to see what kind of sideshows Madama Rose’s offered.
“Flora, I am so glad you have come.” Lord Axacaya coalesced out of nowhere and drew me into a hot embrace. He clasped me closely to his chest; feathers tickled my nose, and a little quiver went down my spine. I was enveloped in the heady smell of incense, the dry heat of his skin. I inhaled deeply and deliciously.
“Are you all right? I’m sorry about that scene with Hotspur. It was most regrettable.” He released me from the hug, alas, but continued to hold my hand, drawing me into a walk next to him.
Despite the darkness, I could see Lord Axacaya perfectly The light that came from Axila and me was faint, hardly visible in the moonlight. But Lord Axacaya glowed as though lit from within. The tattoos on his arms, chest, and hands stood out like green tracings upon his luminescent skin. Even his hair shone like butter, yellow and rich. Now I understood what Axila had meant. My Gramatica vocabulary was limited, small, and thus, so was my glow. But Lord Axacaya’s fluency in Gramatica made him brilliant. He just had to agree to teach me; I’d never find a better instructor.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I answered. “Poppy’s the one who should be sorry.”
Lord Axacaya said soothingly, “He did not hurt you, did he? You should not be left alone with him.”
“I’m all right, really. Poppy wouldn’t dare hurt me.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps. I hope you are right. What a terrible situation—we shall discuss it more later. I’m sorry that I could not meet you earlier. I had to attend upon the Ambassador.”
In my own woe, I had forgotten about the assassination attempt. “Is he dead?”
“No. It takes more than an assassin’s bullet to kill the Ambassador—even a silver bullet won’t do the trick. He was more annoyed than hurt.”
“Did they catch the assassin?” I asked, hoping they had not. If the EI wasn’t involved in this attempt, I’d eat my hat.
“Ayah,” Lord Axacaya’s answer sent a silver cold eddy through my blood. “He didn’t get far—”
He! That was a relief. Not Idden, then, for sure. I was certain she was involved, but at least she wasn’t caught.
Lord Axacaya continued: “I think he was hoping for martyrdom. Now he shall hope for a painless death. Ah well, seldom do we get exactly what we wish for. But never mind that, we have bigger fish to fry. The Current is about to crest, and we need that surge if we are to get where we are going.”
“Where is that?”
“The Bilskinir Baths.”
Triumph rushed through me. “To the Vertex there?”
Lord Axacaya glanced at me, and then laughed. “I should have known you would be informed, Flora. Ayah, Bilskinir Baths is the site of a Vertex, the most powerful Vertex in the City, and there we shall find what we seek. The Loliga. Clever girl.”
We had reached the Circular Pond, which stands in the center of Woodward’s Gardens. In the daytime you can rent a swan boat and pedal around the pond, feeding the koi that lurk in the murky water. A white shape drifted over to where we stood on the dock; I guess you could rent the swan boats at night, too. Axila Aguila was using a boat hook to reel the swan in.
But the Bilskinir Baths are on the other side of the City, and while it is true that there is no longer any way to get there except by water due to the unstable cliffs, I didn’t see how a little swan boat would help us. Point Lobos is rocky and the surf is dangerous; the boat would be instantly crushed against the rocks.
Lord Axacaya must have seen my bewilderment, for he said soothingly “It will all be clear soon, Flora.”
He hadn’t dropped my hand, and now he raised it to his lips. My knees felt extremely wiggly. I took a deep breath.
“I need you to trust me, Flora. It is easier to show you than try to explain. The journey is dangerous but necessary. And I promise I shall let nothing happen to you. Will you come with me?”
Think twice and act once, said Nini Mo, but I didn’t have to think twice at all. Nini also said to go with your gut, and my gut said go. So did my heart, my liver, my lungs, every bit of me. A ranger never turns down an adventure. Nini Mo didn’t say that, but it was true nonetheless.
“Ayah,” I answered. “I’ll come.”
Behind us, I heard a noise that could have been a huff from the Quetzal, but I didn’t turn around to check. Lord Axacaya was smiling down at me, and in the light of the torches, his eyes seemed almost the color of quicksilver. My heart was buzzing like a bee.
Lord Axacaya handed me into the swan boat and then climbed in. The Quetzal gave us a good shove off the dock, and off we went, pedaling madly across the silvery water to—where?
“The
Current,” Lord Axacaya said, “rises and falls, just as the tide does. It flows, just as water does. Hence, we in the Waking World so oft refer to it in liquid terms.”
“Ayah,” I puffed. Lord Axacaya was pedaling quite quickly and it was hard to keep up.
“The energy we call the Current can manifest in many forms, but it can also be channeled through water. The Current runs through the City much like an underground river. It is around us all the time, sometimes lightly, like a fog. Sometimes heavier, as a rain. And sometimes it floods.”
He stopped pedaling and I did the same. From across the Pond came the sound of distant revelry. Somewhere a duck quacked and was answered by another. But the water was still and silent beneath us.
He continued. “There are three levels of human comprehension—”
“The Waking World, the Abyss, and Elsewhere,” I said eagerly. “Life, Death, and In Between.”
“Ayah, so. The Current flows through all three. There are places in the City where the Current bubbles close to the surface of the Waking World,” Lord Axacaya said, “and manifests as water, mingles with water. Sometimes even appears to be water.”
Poppy had once made me jump from the roof of the Folly into the Sunken Puddle, and he had said that the water was the Current. At the time, I had thought he was talking crazy, but maybe I had been wrong.
Lord Axacaya continued: “In these places, which are known as Wells, it is possible to enter the Current and to swim through it, swim along it, to follow the Current as it flows. If we pedaled to the ruins of Bilskinir Baths, that is all we would see: ruins. But we want more than that.” Lord Axacaya stood up so suddenly that the swan rocked alarmingly and I clutched at the side of the boat. He unclasped his feathered cape, let it slither down, and jumped into the water. He surfaced almost immediately, shaking his head, and swam back over to the boat, grabbing hold of its side. Again, the boat surged alarmingly, the swan-head listing.
“The water is very warm,” Lord Axacaya said. “Come now, we have no time to waste. You can swim, can’t you?”
“Of course I can swim,” I said. Orange and white flickered in the water’s darkness; koi were nudging up against Lord Axacaya, who pushed them away with a sweeping arm.
“Then come—the Current will soon crest, and then begin to ebb. We must be in and out by then or we shall be stuck.”
He ducked under the surface. I quickly pulled off my boots and socks, then bundled my pinafore into my redingote and stuffed them into my dispatch case. Without Lord Axacaya’s furnace warmth so near, the night air was cold. I looked at the black water. Lord Axacaya had not resurfaced. I hesitated. The Loliga was at Bilskinir Baths and she’d tried to snatch me twice. The third time might be the charm. But Lord Axacaya was not going to take a coward as a student.
A keening howl echoed across the lake and suddenly I did not care to be left. Better jump in before he surfaced and noticed that I looked like a sausage in my bathing costume.
Dare, win, or disappear.
Clutching Poppy’s ranger badge in one sweaty hand, I held my nose with the other. I closed my eyes and jumped.
Twenty-Two
Diving Down. Out of Air. A Bit Too Deep.
AFTER THE COLD night air, the water felt oily and warm. I kicked back up to the surface, then shook my wet hair out of my eyes, trying not to think about the daytime murk of the pond and the zillions of ducks that had contributed to it. I clenched my lips tightly shut. If I swallowed any of that water, I’d be squirting for the next month. Curious koi bumped me until I splashed at them and they darted away.
The swan boat had drifted off. A dark shape bobbed near me. Lord Axacaya said, “Hold on to my hand, and don’t let go. No matter what. I don’t want to get separated; it might be hard to find each other again.”
We splashed and found each other’s hands. Even wet, his grip was hot.
“Are you afraid, Flora?”
“A little.”
He laughed. “So am I. On the count of three, we will dive. It’s a bit of a ways, so suck in as much air as you can.”
He counted, I sucked, and then three—down he went, dragging me with him. I kept my eyes squeezed tightly shut, although it was probably too dark to see, anyway. Still, I didn’t relish the thought of that dirty water scouring my eyeballs. Down, down we dove. Mamma had made me and Idden learn to swim in the icy water off the Pacifica Playa, and all those years of battling the riptides and surf have made me a strong swimmer. But Lord Axacaya was a strong swimmer, too, and I hardly had to do any work, just hang on to his hand and kick to keep the momentum up. Once my foot hit something, and cold fear jolted through me. I suddenly recalled reading in the CPG about an alligator escaping from Woodward’s Zoological Exhibits, and then, of course, there was that grabby tentacle—
If you don’t peer at the shadows, you won’t see any ghosts, Nini Mo said. So I turned my focus to the swim and tried to think of nothing else. Kick, kick, kick. As we went deeper, coldness began to swirl through the warmth. The water grew thicker, as though it was congealing around us. Soon I felt as though I was swimming through jelly I kicked harder, feeling my leg muscles burn, pushing deeper and deeper. Down, down we went. My ears popped.
And then I began to run out of air.
I pressed my lips together and tried not to snuffle out my nose, but the desire to breathe was becoming overwhelming. Pressure began to build in my head, pushing painfully against my ears. And still we continued down, down—even if I were to let go and turn back, it was too far. I’d never make it. The desire would be too strong—I would open my mouth—and suck in death. It dimly occurred to me that Lord Axacaya probably did not have small lungs and could swim much farther than I could on one breath.
Still we swam onward. The pressure became pain, and the pain became an urge so strong that I had to fight all my reflexes to keep from opening my mouth. With my free hand, I pinched my nose shut. My ears pounded and I couldn’t help but exhale, feeling the bubbles bob off my face, but it didn’t erase the desire to gasp. My lungs burned. I lagged, yanking on Lord Axacaya’s grip, trying to turn my mind toward anything that could distract me from the instinct to breathe. But it’s rather hard to distract yourself from the fact that you are suffocating.
Then Lord Axacaya twisted, and grabbed at my shoulders, pulling me into him. Our legs tangling, his lips were against my lips, forcing my mouth open. Just as I gave in to the horrible need to gasp, he exhaled, pushing air from his lungs into mine. I sucked the air in deeply, and he twisted again, pulling away, and kicking strongly Suddenly I felt buoyant and reenergized.
I opened my eyes and saw, instead of darkness, a rosy glow. Lord Axacaya floated next to me, a distorted silvery figure, his hair streaming behind him like seaweed. We hung in an immense nothingness, a hazy pink that seemed to extend forever. The emptiness of this huge Void was horrible—I felt very tiny exposed, puny. Overwhelmed. A wave of vertigo rolled over me—Lord Axacaya was gone, I was alone, lost, dwindling to a tiny speck of insignificance. The glow winked out, flooding me with a smothering oppressive darkness. I couldn’t feel my body, I couldn’t move, I was adrift and alone—
Then I felt a brief brushing against me, and that touch brought me back to myself. I could feel my body again, my arms and legs flailing. The brush became a grip, the grip a tug—
Close your eyes and kick.
I closed my eyes and kicked. Kicked and kicked and kicked. Once again the water felt thin against my skin. My head broke the surface and I was gulping in air, stale and musty air, but air. I opened my eyes, and through the sting of salt water saw the blurry world and was relieved. I rolled onto my back and wheezed and panted, reveling in the sensation of inflatable lungs. Next to me, Lord Axacaya whipped his head back, tossing wet hair out of the way.
“Are you all right, Flora? It didn’t occur to me that since you are so small perhaps the distance would be too great.”
“I’m all right,” I gasped.
“We will have to practice
your breathing. You should be able to hold your breath for longer than that.” Lord Axacaya swam to the edge of the pool and slithered up the side, then hauled me up after him. I sat panting and dripping on the cold wet tiles. Above, instead of a sweep of darkness, the sky glowed with a pink pallor that made everything seem sickly and pale. In front of us a huge glass building loomed, long low wings stretching out from a central dome.
“You are shivering.” Lord Axacaya crouched before me, his hair clinging to his shoulders like a sodden veil. “Here—”
He reached out with a long finger and touched my forehead. For a second, I felt the pressure of his touch on my skin, and the pressure bloomed into a warmth that suffused my body with a pleasant glow. I no longer felt cold and soggy, but snug and dry. When I followed Lord Axacaya’s motion and stood up, I found that I was dry my hair no longer drippy, my bathing costume no longer soppy.
“How did you do that without using Gramatica?” I asked.
“I did use Gramatica. You just didn’t hear me. After a time, a magician no longer has to vocalize a Gramatica invocation; it is enough to think it. Come, pequeña, we are wasting the Current.”
I followed Lord Axacaya across the front drive, over a set of horsecar tracks, and up to the arching entrance of the building, which the large carved sign over the doors identified as Bilskinir Baths. But I’ve been to the ruins of Bilskinir Baths and they didn’t look like this at all. They are a twisted heap of fallen girders and blackened marble poised precariously over the cliffside, looking like they might, at any moment, collapse completely.
I said, “This is not a ruin.”
“Ayah, so. Every place in the Waking World has a corresponding impression Elsewhere. This is the Bilskinir Baths Elsewhere—the revenant of the original. It is the culmination of all the energies that were ever concentrated on the Baths. A ghost, if you like.”
Flora's Dare: How a Girl of Spirit Gambles All to Expand Her Vocabulary, Confront a Bouncing Boy Terror, and Try to Save Califa from a Shaky Doom (Despite Being Confined to Her Room) Page 15
