by Nadia Aguiar
“I’ve been talking to some of the girls,” said Maya, looking serious. “All the kids here are like Helix. They all lost their families in the war.”
But she was interrupted by Sorella, who was walking quickly across the yard. She sat down with them, her cheeks bright, the hem of her skirt dusty, and leaned in so she could talk without anyone else hearing.
“I think we’ve found what you’re looking for,” she said eagerly. “It could be that your friend Helix has an aunt—Señora Conchita Rojo Valdez—from the old Valdez family. Her nephew was lost when he was a small child, at the height of the war, somewhere in Robiando Province. He had a green parrot given to him by Milagros. He would be about seventeen now. This could be Helix. Señora Rojo has come here in search of news about him many times. She’s one of the benefactors of the city, in fact. Her address is here.” She handed a slip of paper to Simon and Maya.
Señora Conchita Rojo Valdez, 24 Rua Santa Flora, Floriano
“Helix has an aunt?” murmured Maya. Until then she had not really believed that Helix would have a family other than them. She looked up at Sorella. “What about his parents?”
Sorella hesitated. “His aunt is the only one who has been here,” she said.
“Is Floriano far?” Simon asked.
“Not far at all,” said Sorella. “Several hours on the road straight from here. There’s a cart leaving here early tomorrow morning, taking produce to the North. A couple of our boys are leaving us, sadly, and are going with it. You can ride with them as far as Floriano. You can stay here tonight. I’ve arranged for a few extra hammocks to be hung for you beneath the eba tree.”
Simon turned to Maya. “If it really is Helix’s aunt, she’ll help us,” he said. “I think we should go.”
“It seems like the only thing we can do,” agreed Maya. “If she really is his aunt,” she added.
“Thank you, Sorella,” said Simon.
“Yes, thank you,” said Maya. “You’ve been very kind to us.”
“Oh, you don’t have to thank me,” said Sorella, blushing in the candlelight. “I very much hope that you’ll be able to reunite your friend with his family. And that you’ll be able to find Milagros, too.”
* * *
After dinner the city children hung their colorful cloth hammocks from the broad branches of eba trees and settled in beneath insect nets for the night. The nets were woven out of spidersilk threads that glistened in the light from the yellow tree-oil lamps that the teachers left burning here and there on the ground. Simon, Maya, and Penny climbed into their hammocks. There was a peculiar light in the sky to the south that Sorella had told them was the glow from the Red Coral mines.
Maya rocked Penny in the hammock between hers and Simon’s and Penny fell asleep almost instantly.
“It’s hard to imagine that Helix has a family,” said Simon, looking at his little sister.
“I know what you mean,” said Maya. She was quiet for a moment, then added softly, “But—we’re his family now, really.”
Deep down Simon felt a tiny grain of doubt about this. He remembered again watching the Pamela Jane sail from view, Helix and Seagrape on it, and a tiny part of him wondered if Helix had always secretly planned to leave them when they returned to Tamarind. He hated to think it might be true, but perhaps Helix had other reasons for returning, reasons he had kept from them.
“It was smart, what you did today,” whispered Maya, “realizing we should escape when we did. I probably would have waited too long and it would have been too late.”
“Hey, thanks,” said Simon. “But I’m sure you would have,” he added generously. He smiled as he looked up into the dark branches. Maya never usually bothered to praise him anymore. Suddenly he felt happy they were there together.
Simon lay awake for a while after the murmur of children’s voices died down as the city children faded off to sleep. Maya and Penny slept peacefully nearby. Occasionally he heard the swish of leaves in the jungle as animals made their way on their night travels.
He fell asleep, but woke a few hours later in a cold sweat. He sat bolt upright and got tangled in the silken threads of the insect net. The tree-oil lamps had burned out and it was pitch-black. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was. In his dream Dr. Fitzsimmons had been chasing him—his hands had been only inches from Simon’s neck. Heart thundering, Simon sat there listening carefully, but the only sounds were insects buzzing outside his net and a child coughing in his sleep. The Red Coral weren’t here, at least not yet. Penny stirred, mumbling something in her dream. Simon wished she were home safely.
He lay back down, but it took a long time before the fear of the dream left him. He had to admit that nothing had happened the way he’d expected since they had arrived in Tamarind. They had assumed they would be with Helix and they had counted on him to lead the way once they were there. But now Helix was gone, their boat was gone, the children were on the run from Isabella, and the Red Coral were wreaking havoc across the countryside. Simon didn’t have any real idea how to find Helix or go about stopping the Red Coral, and the woman who was ultimately supposed to be able to help them was a creepy Dark Woman, who, if she was even still alive, was deep in hiding somewhere. He tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable.
All they had were three clues.
Faustina’s Gate.
Milagros.
Señora Conchita Rojo Valdez, 24 Rua Santa Flora, Floriano.
Three clues to stop the Red Coral and save Tamarind.
Chapter Eight
24 Rua Santa Flora • The Señora, the Doctor, and the Colonels • An Uncanny Likeness • Glinting from Above • Between Bird and Beast • A Mysterious Glow
In the morning, Simon felt brighter. The hammocks were taken down and folded up. There was a lot of chattering and teasing as the city children gathered around to bid farewell to Jolo and his little brother, Small Tee, who were leaving the city to join their cousin in the North and become fishermen. An old, patient brown horse with big, dusty hooves the size of dinner plates was hitched to a wooden cart, ready to take them. The cart was laden with star fruit, cassava roots, and the biggest pumpkins Simon had ever seen.
Sorella spoke quietly to Simon and Maya as they got in the cart. “Be very careful if you see the Red Coral,” she said. “Don’t let them see you. They’re very bad men.”
“We will,” said Simon. Thanking Sorella profusely for her kindness, he, Maya, and Penny hopped in after Jolo and a tearful Small Tee.
Simon felt the cart lurch forward and begin to wobble down the road out of the City of Children. Children ran and waved behind them.
“Good luck, Jolo and Small Tee!”
“Catch lots of fish!”
As the cart got farther away the merriment fell away. Then the cart rounded a corner and left the city behind and headed out on a dirt road that Simon, Maya, and Penny had not traveled on before. It ran through farm fields, silver with morning dew, which ended in jungle on either side. Simon realized that from here on they were going to have to be vigilant. The Red Coral could be anywhere and they no longer had the adults in the City of Children to protect them.
Though he claimed he was older, Jolo looked to be around the same age as Simon. He was wiry and had dirty knees. He picked through the cart till he found some ripe mangoes and dragonfruit and tamarinds and passed them gallantly around to everyone. Maya split open one of the brown, leathery tamarind pods and gave the sweet pulp to Penny. Small Tee gave a shuddery breath but sat up and ate the mango that his brother gave him, the juice dribbling down his chin. He couldn’t have been much older than Penny, Simon thought.
“Why are you leaving?” asked Maya. “Couldn’t you stay there longer?”
“We’re on our way to meet our cousin on the north coast,” said Jolo. “He left the city last year. I’m going to be a fisherman with him there. I wasn’t going to leave my little brother behind.”
“What about your family?” asked Maya. “How will they find
you if you leave?”
Jolo snorted. “No one’s coming,” he said. “Everyone who’s left in the city now just waits until they’re fifteen and old enough to leave. I turned fifteen last week. I don’t need school to be a fisherman!”
“Aren’t they nice to you there?” Maya asked gently.
“Sure,” said Jolo agreeably. “But the city is for babies.”
Small Tee sniffled. He started to suck his thumb but his brother knocked it gently out of his mouth. He curled up with his back to a pumpkin and watched the big bright birds hopping between branches on the trees they passed. The dew was drying on the fields and Simon breathed the fresh morning air deeply. They spent the next hours talking to Jolo, hearing about his life and telling him about Helix and Dr. Fitzsimmons and Isabella. Jolo whistled when he heard that the children used to know the Red Man, as he called him, and he was impressed that they had been in Maracairol with Isabella.
“Isabella comes and reads to us every week and helps us with school,” he said. Maya looked surprised. “Tee loves her, don’t you, Tee?”
Hearing Isabella’s name, Small Tee looked up hopefully. Lulled by the rising heat and the rocking motion of the cart, he and Penny dozed off. Dappled light slid over them as the cart rattled along the road.
“We’re almost in Floriano,” said Jolo.
Soon Simon saw the shining rooftops of a town nestled a few miles down in a shallow valley that led down to a milky sea. The driver pulled on the reins and the horse came to a stop.
“Thanks for your help,” said Simon, hoisting his pack onto his back. “And good luck in the North!”
“Good luck to you, too,” said Jolo. “You’ll have to jump down. You go first and I’ll pass the baby down to you.”
“I’m not a baby,” said Penny, and after Simon had hopped nimbly down she insisted on jumping into his arms herself.
“Good-bye!” Simon, Maya, and Penny called as the cart rolled slowly off. Then they turned and set off on foot down to Floriano.
“I think that little kid Tee wanted his mom,” said Penny, taking Maya’s hand.
Maya glanced at Simon. “Do you miss Mami?” she asked Penny.
Penny didn’t answer but her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sure Mami misses you,” said Maya. “But we’ll be home soon.”
* * *
Floriano was a very big, old town with buckling streets and dusty olive trees and clusters of palms growing from behind high, cracked walls. They passed a few old ladies returning from the market and a pack of stray dogs trotted by, but otherwise the streets were sleepy. Apparently the Red Coral Project hadn’t reached there yet. They asked someone the way to Rua Santa Flora.
It was early afternoon when they approached the house. Number 24 sat behind a heavy wooden door that opened directly onto the deserted street. The windows were barred and the curtains drawn, so the children couldn’t see inside. Simon had expected something grander for a family that was supposed to be so important. They hesitated. Now that they were there, they were afraid to knock. Who knew what the people inside would be like?
Maya combed the knots out of her hair with her fingers and dusted off her and Penny’s clothes. “Remember,” she said, “she might not even be his aunt after all.”
Simon glanced behind them. The street was cool and dusky from the shadows of trees overhanging the high wall that ran along the opposite side. Beyond the wall was a steep, tree-covered hill. Something flashed from the hilltop, blinding him momentarily. He blinked and squinted. But when he shaded his eyes and looked up, there was nothing but a large old mansion peeking through the leaves high on the hill. Perhaps the light had caught a window. Still, it made him nervous—who knew where the Red Coral would show up next? He turned back to the door and rapped the knocker solidly three times. The children stepped back and waited.
The knock interrupted a low murmur of voices inside the house, then a pair of footsteps approached and a bolt slid back and the door opened. A woman stood there. She was old—close to seventy, Simon guessed—but her back was straight as a mast and her hair was jet-black and combed into a bun so tight that not a single strand had a whisper of hope for escape. Age spots drifted on her face like shadows on water. Her deep-set eyes regarded the children coolly. An ophalla cameo on a moss-colored choker nestled in the hollow of her throat.
“Yes?” she said in a low, gravelly voice.
“Good afternoon,” said Simon politely. “We’re looking for Señora Conchita Rojo Valdez.”
“I’m Señora Rojo,” said the woman. There was no welcome on her face.
The children stared at her. Could this truly be Helix’s aunt? It seemed impossible to believe, first that Helix even had an aunt, and second that they should be standing on her doorstep.
Simon swallowed. “My name is Simon Nelson,” he said. “These are my sisters, Maya and Penny.”
Just then the light flashed again. Señora Rojo squinted and shaded her eyes as she scowled up at the hill.
“Come in,” she said. “Quickly.”
She stepped back and the children followed her inside. They were in a small, high-ceilinged room with black-and-white-checked tiles. Potted ferns hung from ropes attached to the ceiling timbers. The air smelled of a cooked lunch, which must have been finished not long before. Simon’s stomach grumbled. The furniture was made of dark carob wood and upholstered with the silken threads of seapods, and framed maps and oil paintings of old battles adorned the walls. A topaz-colored cloth hung peculiarly in the middle of one wall. Doors opened onto a tiny central courtyard with a fountain. In the far corner a circle of settees and chairs were positioned around a low table, and in them sat a group of very old men in the middle of a card game. The men had stopped playing and turned to face the newcomers. There was something creepy and unsettling about their collective stare and Simon felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. Penny stood behind Maya and peered out cautiously.
Then Simon realized: The eyes gazing at him were not all real. Some of the men had one real eye and one made of glass: one was amber, one was aquamarine, another black as an inkwell, but each was fixed in an unnatural and brilliant stare beside its living partner. At the same moment that he realized this, Simon saw that some of the men were also missing limbs. A few of them had empty shirt or trouser legs, ironed smooth and pinned up neatly. A collection of ornate canes lay beneath the chairs. Polished medals pinned to the men’s lapels twinkled like dim stars. Old soldiers, Simon thought. They had been ravaged, first by injury and then by time, for they were all ancient, with drooping whiskers and sagging jowls, and whatever battles they had seen had been long before Simon or Maya or Penny had been born. Simon noticed then a faded old flag hung in a corner.
“Play on, please, gentlemen,” said Señora Rojo. “I’ll sit out the rest of this hand. Now,” she said, turning back and looking at the children imperiously. “What may I do for you?” The cameo shone darkly on her neck.
“We’ve come from the City of Children,” said Simon. “They gave us your address.” He fumbled in his pocket for the crumpled piece of paper and handed it to her.
“We think our friend is your nephew,” said Maya. “We came from the Outside together, but we lost him…”
Two spots of color rose in Señora Rojo’s cheeks, but she spoke with regal composure. Only a slight tremor in the corner of her lip betrayed any apprehension. She turned to the men playing cards.
“Gentlemen,” she said, “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I have to ask that we adjourn the game early. Colonel Lorca, I believe that makes you the winner today.”
With some difficulty, the men got to their feet. In a moment canes were tapping on the floor and they were shuffling toward the door. Señora Rojo turned to a distinguished-looking, silver-haired gentleman who had risen to leave with the other men. “Dr. Bellagio,” she said. “Perhaps you’ll stay?”
“Of course,” the man replied. Unlike the others, he did not appear to have been wounded. His back was proud, and t
he starched corners of his elegant collar touched a tanned face that was shaved smooth but for a plump, perfectly curled silver moustache. His thick hair was combed smoothly back with the hard gloss of pomade.
“We were having our weekly baccarat game that Señora Rojo hosts,” he said amiably. “Colonel Lorca will be happy you arrived when you did—another few minutes and Colonel de Silva might have gone home with Mrs. Lorca’s necklace.”
The card players left and the tapping of their canes faded down the street. Señora Rojo motioned the children to sit down. She perched on the edge of a settee, her hands clasped tightly. “Now, tell me why you believe you know my nephew. And I warn you,” she said, lowering her voice, “I’m not patient with tricks.”
Fumbling at first, Simon and Maya began to tell them about Helix, Isabella, Milagros, Dr. Fitzsimmons, and the City of Children. Señora Rojo and Dr. Bellagio listened in silence. When they finished there was a long, heavy moment of quiet. Simon felt the backs of his knees beginning to sweat. He desperately wanted to be back outside, not trapped in a room with such old and strange people. A breeze brought in dust from the street and stirred the hanging plants. Simon heard the squeak of decrepit ropes on the wooden beams and was aware of the faint smell of rot in the fibers.
Abruptly Señora Rojo stood up and, with her back to them, walked to the wall near the courtyard doors, stopping in front of the square of topaz-colored silk curtain that Simon had noticed earlier. With one hand she slowly drew back the panel, revealing not a window, but a painting concealed behind it. It was a portrait, done in thick daubs of sumptuous green and brown oils, and when the children saw the face gazing at them from within the gold frame they all drew in their breaths.
“That looks like Helix!” exclaimed Penny.
