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Wicked Chill (Away From Whipplethorn Book Four)

Page 4

by Hartoin, A. W.


  I opened the door, flew into the foyer to the inner door and stepped into the warmth. I smiled in spite of myself. Reinthaler’s wasn’t anything like the cathedral, but it felt just as good to me with all its wood. The restaurant had wood paneling and furniture. Nothing fancy, more like a home. Waitresses bustled around in jeans and t-shirts. I was welcome. Everyone was.

  Heinrich Winkler owned the newspaper stand and the small restaurant located inside Reinthaler’s Beisl. I’d met Heinrich our first week in Vienna. He bought Delphine’s jewelry off me and sold me food at cost when the dragons were unable to steal enough for us. Luckily, Delphine wore a lot of jewelry or we wouldn’t have gotten by before I got the job at the cathedral.

  Heinrich saw me and waved from his stool above the bar where he watched for customers and kept an eye on the humans.

  “Mattie,” he said. “You are quite late. Are you well?”

  “Very well. It was a busy day,” I said, landing on the shelf next to a water glass and putting Horc down. He toddled off into the restaurant, smacking his lips and breathing deep his favorite smell in the world, pork. I watched him navigate between tables as all the customers stopped and watched him. What was I thinking? I shouldn’t have brought that little spriggan out into public. People started looking at Horc and then looking at me. Spriggan’s weren’t reviled in Austria. They were revered as special subjects to the royal family and the nobility. I found out pretty quickly that a spriggan being raised by a wood fairy wasn’t considered proper at all. Keeping Horc in the cathedral had been alright though. The cardinal had made it clear that he approved of our odd little family and nothing was to be said. The diners didn’t look like they knew the cardinal’s thoughts on the matter.

  “So you’ve brought your brother,” said Heinrich.

  “He…he wanted to get out,” I said.

  Heinrich inclined his head toward the diners who were patting Horc on the head and feeding him bits of Wiener schnitzel from their plates. “How will you explain him to them?”

  “I have no idea, but I’ll come up with something. I always do.”

  He smiled. “I have no doubts in you. Long day?”

  “Always.”

  “Have you defeated the klitzeklein trolls yet?”

  “Not yet. Frau Snigglebit’s remover didn’t work.”

  “Keep spraying. They’ll get the idea eventually.”

  I gave him a pathetic glance. “Isn’t there anything else I can use?”

  “You can throw them out by hand, but throw them far. They come back, if you don’t.”

  I held up my wrist and showed him the bite mark.

  “Yes. That is the trouble with that plan. Don’t let that get infected.” He frowned. “What happened to your neck?”

  “My gargoyle got scared. He didn’t mean to,” I said.

  “A gargoyle for a pet. I never heard of such a thing. Gargoyles are usually wild.”

  “Fidelé is special.”

  He eyed my neck. “Yes. I can see that. The cardinal wants his usual selection tonight?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  Heinrich hopped off his stool and gathered the eight papers that the cardinal required. He read in six languages, which made for a heavy load for me. I signed the receipt for the papers to be charged to the cardinal’s account, but before I could drop the quill, Heinrich shoved the papers into my arms.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He pulled a club from behind his counter and brandished it. I spun around and saw a huge crowd coming through both the fairy entrance and the human one. They were pushing and shoving. Fear and anger showed in their faces, something that was getting more common in Vienna.

  “Get behind me, Mattie,” said Heinrich.

  My palms got hot. I’d never gotten behind anyone in my life. “I’m okay. What do they want?”

  “It’s what they don’t want.”

  The crowd flew up and hovered in front of us. There were about ten different species of flying fairies. Most were wood fairies, but there were also ashrays and wzlots. They were shouting in German. I’d been learning, but understanding German on angry lips was very difficult. I gathered there was some sort of list and Heinrich was supposed to have it.

  Heinrich lowered the club and held up his other hand, not in surrender but more in resignation. He shook his head and spoke. Since I was beside him, I couldn’t see what he said, but the crowd didn’t like it. They began waving their fists and shouting threats. Also, something about Archduke Franz-Joseph. I tugged on Heinrich’s jacket. “What do they want from you?”

  “They know the archduke has returned from Rome. They fear that means the empress’s illness is worse and something has happened with France. No one thinks Emperor Maximilian can handle the situation like his mother would. He may be co-regent, but no one likes him. They think he takes after his peasant father, the professor. He wasn’t born to rule like the archduke.”

  “So sell them the papers and tell them to go.” I didn’t like the look of that crowd. They reminded me of the fairies outside Notre Dame before everything had broken loose.

  “The truth is not in the papers. I have my sources and they know it.”

  The crowd was swelling as they were joined by more species. There were a few willow dryads on the floor, some hobgoblins, and a devil troll that looked a lot like my friend Lrag, who was still in Paris hopefully alive with Mom and Dad.

  Heinrich flew up and stood on his stool. I flew off to the side so I could see his lips.

  “Friends. Friends. Calm yourself. Nothing is certain,” he said calmly in German. He was speaking slowly enough that I could understand him.

  More fist-waving.

  “I only have second-hand reports.”

  A bottle was thrown and shattered at his feet.

  “Is the empress dying?” yelled an ashray. “She hasn’t appeared in public in weeks.”

  “How will we stop the invasion without her?” yelled a wood fairy.

  One large brown winged wood fairy flew forward. “Tell us everything, Heinrich. We deserve to know the fate of our families.”

  An ashray flew up next to him, dripping water on the fairies below him. “Your families deserve what they get for threatening Queen Marie Henriette. She is one of us.”

  “My family never threatened the queen or anyone.”

  “Why are they trying to escape France then?”

  “To escape the bloodshed,” said the brown wing.

  “That they caused.”

  The brown winged fairy did look a whole lot like the revolutionaries that I’d seen in Paris. Plenty of fairies had been trying to escape France after the royal family had been captured and imprisoned in the Conciergerie. Austria had stopped accepting refugees shortly after we got in the country, but since we weren’t European nobody counted us as refugees, even though we were.

  A female wood fairy with small blue wings and a servant’s dress came forward. “My son was in Paris when the royals were captured. He’s been imprisoned at the Abbey of Saint-Germain-Des-Prés though he is only a poor tailor. There are rumors of a massacre at the prison. Tell me please,” she begged.

  I sucked in a breath and held it painfully. A massacre at a prison. Our people could be there. Prison would explain why they hadn’t shown up in Vienna.

  Heinrich hissed to me. “Get your brother and go.”

  I couldn’t move. I had to know what happened. That moment of hesitation was all it took. The devil troll shouted from the floor, “Shut up about your traitor son. I want to know what the empress is going to do about all the refugees stealing all the work.”

  The wood fairy mother buried her face in her hands and a group of ashrays flew down to the troll and cracked him with clubs. The whole crowd erupted. It seemed everyone had a weapon concealed. Little daggers came out. Rocks and sticks, everything you could hurt someone with. They were all armed and they were heading for us.

  The diners ran out of the restaurant, knocking into me and sca
ttering the papers in my arms. I spun around and spotted Horc under a table, stuffing his face with a giant piece of sausage. I ran through the diners, getting battered with their sharp elbows as they ran for it. I grabbed Horc and looked for an exit, but we were in a corner on the shelf. There was no way to go but out through the insane crowd.

  “What did you do?” asked Horc, surprisingly calm considering he was watching fairies getting their faces bashed in a foot away.

  “Nothing for once.”

  A group of ashrays and wood fairies advanced on Heinrich, backing him up against a water glass. During the time I’d had my back turned he’d lost his club and had been beaten with it. Blood ran down his stubbly cheek and soaked the collar of his shirt. He clutched his arm to his chest and the hand hung at an odd angle. They were going to kill Heinrich for a little information. They were just as mad as the fairies in Paris.

  “Tell us. What happened at the prison, Heinrich,” yelled a hobgoblin dressed in the livery of the Austrian royal family, black and yellow with a double-headed eagle embroidered on his chest.

  An ashray picked up one of the papers I dropped and rolled it into a cone. The ashray next to him struck a flint and the spark lit the paper. The two of them pushed through the others to wave the fire under Heinrich’s nose. “Tell us. Our families work for Queen Marie Henriette.”

  Heinrich tried to speak, but his jaw was swelling. It must’ve been broken. He couldn’t tell them what they wanted to know. He would die for it. I’d seen the murderous looks those fairies had before. They were beyond reason. It didn’t make any difference that the information would die with Heinrich. The hobgoblin slashed at Heinrich with a wicked little dagger, catching him in the neck. A spray of blood dappled the eagle on the hobgoblin’s chest.

  I didn’t think it through. I acted, for the first time in Vienna, I lost control. Heinrich was my friend. This was not going to happen. I used my greatest gift, the one that had to be concealed at all costs. The ashray waved the burning paper and I sent sparks off it. They didn’t look real to tell you the truth. My sparks were bigger and brighter than the ones that would’ve occurred naturally. Lucky for me, no one was paying attention. My sparks arced off the paper (too far to be reasonable) and landed on the other papers I’d dropped, setting them instantly ablaze. The mob screamed and flew off the shelf, leaving Heinrich behind the flames sinking slowly to the floor.

  I ran around the fire and grabbed his collar with my free hand, dragging him clear. I plunked Horc down and dropped to my knees at his head. Blood was spurting and it hit my stockinged knees. Heinrich’s eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp. I looked at the gash that was pumping his life away and concentrated. I got light-headed and my vision went to a pinprick. The blood stopped like someone turned off a spigot and I didn’t pass out, which had happened before. I ripped a pocket off of Heinrich’s jacket and pressed it to his neck. The mob had left the shelf, but I could still see fairies fighting it out over the human’s heads. I didn’t know what to do. The only healer besides myself that I knew was in the cardinal’s service and he was way back at the cathedral. I didn’t have any medicines on me. The palace was close. They must have healers, but would they help a shopkeeper? I doubted it.

  “Horc, come here and hold this down,” I said. “I have to go for help.”

  My brother stuffed the rest of the sausage in his gullet and wobbled to his feet. He said something unrecognizable through the mouthful of juicy meat.

  “Hurry. Heinrich is going to die. He has to have a healer.”

  Beautifully tooled yellow boots walked up to the other side of Heinrich and I looked up at an old fairy wearing a starched black dress and apron. Locks of iron grey hair escaped the bun on top of her head as she gazed down at me with a satisfied smile. “I’d say he’s already got one.”

  Chapter Six

  HORC PLACED HIS hands gently on Heinrich’s neck. I told him to be careful and not press too hard because it would cut of the blood supply to his brain. Horc already knew that, but I was stalling for time.

  Horc said something. I couldn’t hear it, since I could only see the side of his jaw. I looked up and the old fairy was still there. Of course she was, but I couldn’t help hoping she’d fly off and let me alone.

  “So he says you’re not ignoring me. Why don’t you answer?” she asked in German.

  “I speak little German,” I said, getting to my feet. “Can you go get help?”

  “Why don’t you do it? You clearly can.”

  “I’m not a healer. Please, if you won’t go, I will.”

  She looked me over and then raised her hand. A younger fairy came out of the shadows and stood stiffly behind the older one. She wore the same black dress, although in a much smaller size. Her expression was both curious and confused. At least she hadn’t seen what I’d done. The older fairy was enough to contend with.

  “Leanna, go to the palace and fetch Healer Gruber,” said the older fairy.

  “But Nanny,” said the girl, now wringing her hands, “they’re killing each other out there.”

  “This man is dying in here. Skirt the fighters and go out the side exit.” She turned and said something else that I couldn’t see. Whatever it was comforted the girl. She did a brief curtsy and flew off the shelf.

  “She’s a good girl,” said Nanny. “But she hasn’t got your brand of courage.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” I said.

  “Didn’t you?” A small smile flickered across her lips and for a moment she reminded me of Marie, the elderly seer who wasn’t in Paris when our escape happened. At least she was safe. “Didn’t you?” repeated the old fairy less like Marie and more like my mother.

  “No.”

  “Ah, I see,” she said, nodding sagely. “So you wear the cardinal’s colors.”

  “Yes. I am in service to the cardinal.”

  She smiled, folding her plump face into wrinkles and whispered, “As his new healer. I heard His Grace had been uncommonly well lately.”

  “No, ma’am. I am a maid of all work,” I said, taking a step back.

  She stepped closer and bent over Heinrich’s still form. “Did His Grace tell you to say that?”

  “It’s true.”

  “I saw what you did, young lady.”

  “I did nothing.”

  “You are an excellent liar. I could almost believe it, but I saw you perform the spell. You best come with me. His Grace will not be surprised when such secrets come out.”

  I tried to keep my breathing in check, but my chest was heaving. “There are no secrets.”

  “There are always secrets, even for old ladies like me. Come along,” Nanny said more kindly than before. “There’s no reason to be afraid.”

  There’s every reason to be absolutely terrified.

  “I have to give His Grace the evening papers,” I said.

  “They’re burnt.”

  But you didn’t notice exactly how. That’s good.

  “I’ll get other ones,” I said.

  Nanny reached up and touched a brooch pinned above her right breast, the Austrian royal crest done in fine gold filigree with black and yellow enamel. “Do you recognize it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you know that you must come with me.”

  I scooped Horc up. “I can’t. We have to go home.”

  I flew off the shelf and ran right into a couple of wzlot fairies punching each other in the face. I backed up and glanced over my shoulder to see Nanny watching me with a look of disapproval.

  “You forgot your papers,” she called out to me.

  I ignored her and darted to the right toward the side exit. Papers were the least of my worries.

  The back entrance to St. Stephen's was rarely used and under cover of darkness I darted to it, holding my breath that no one would see us. I was good and bloody from the overspray from Heinrich’s neck and Horc’s hands looked like he’d dipped them in raspberry juice. If anyone saw that there would be questions an
d I wasn’t prepared to answer any.

  I flew up to Albrecht I’s stained glass portrait in the St. Bartholomew chapel, trying to think of another way in.

  Horc touched my face to get my attention. “No one cares but you. Perform the rite of entry. I am hungry.”

  My brother didn’t care what I had to do as long as he got fed. I did care, although I knew it was ridiculous. The Albrecht entrance was the servants’ port of entry and back in the days when the cathedral was well-guarded, everyone had to be inspected before going in. Everyone except for the servants. We had our own entrance with no inspection required. We just had to know the spell. Rickard taught it to me on the first day and I never thought I’d use it. The rite of entry went against my very nature.

  I hovered in front of Albrecht I in his regal stained glass splendor, sucked up my pride, and did as I’d been taught to do. I got humble before my betters. First, I touched Albrecht I’s crown, then his shield decorated with the Habsburg eagle, both his knees and then, worst of all, I kissed his blue stockinged foot to show my worthlessness before the divinely chosen. It chapped my wings. Worthless indeed. Put me up against a current Habsburg and they wouldn’t stand a chance, but here I was sniveling. Disgusting.

  But I had to keep all that down deep. I had to or the spell wouldn’t work. Albrecht I was supposed to know if I was sincere, but it turned out that he wasn’t very smart. The glass stone panel beneath his foot vanished. We were in.

  “That was not so bad,” said Horc.

  “Speak for yourself.”

  “I always do.”

  I rolled my eyes as I flew through and then looked back, the glass had reappeared. I darted down behind the high altar towards the tomb and safety. There were no trolls at the entrance this time and I flew right in and ran through the halls to my room, breathing so hard my chest was burning. I knocked and said, “It’s me.”

  Miss Penrose unlocked the door and gasped at the sight of us. “Matilda, whatever happened?”

 

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