“You expect us to believe that,” said Rickard, smiling.
“That’s what happened.”
“You are the most—”
The master secretary held up his hand and Rickard bit his tongue. Six or seven trolls hit me at the same time, so I didn’t have time to enjoy the rebuke. I fell on the floor landing sharply on my hip. I bit back a gasp of pain. I didn’t want to give Rickard the satisfaction.
“Master secretary, what can I do for you?” I said, wincing as I got to my feet.
“Are these the trolls from St. Catherine’s altar?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“What made them move?’
A troll biffed me in the back of the head, causing me to stumble forward and fall at his feet. “I have no idea, but I’ll get rid of them.”
“I trust you will. That’s what the diocese pays you for.” He glanced around my room filled with bouncing purple trolls. “This is an unusual development.”
No kidding.
“The cardinal will hear of this.”
Great.
“What is your sister doing?” he asked.
I glanced back at Iris still hunching over Victory and Horc. From the look on her face I would’ve have been surprised if Victory wasn’t trying to escape, which would be a disaster. If the master secretary saw him…I didn’t want to think about it. “Nothing. Protecting my brother. That’s all. Nothing.”
“Your brother,” said the master secretary, his hooded grey eyes showing a hint of curiosity. Oh, no. Not curiosity. That wasn’t good. “Another unusual development.”
“Not unusual. Just a spriggan. There’s lots where we come from.” I smacked a troll away from my face.
“I seriously doubt that.” He fixed his cold gaze on Iris, who stared back in terror. “Your sister is well?”
“Um…yes, sir,” I said.
“Let me see her.”
Trolls were hitting me like crazy, but I didn’t feel them. Iris stared up with wide eyes. Where was this going? Iris was too young to work and we’d claimed that Miss Penrose was homeschooling her. Would he want rent for her staying in my room? I couldn’t afford rent. I could barely afford enough food.
“Move it, Mattie,” said Rickard as if he knew there was some reason why she couldn’t move.
“Sir…she’s…the trolls,” I said.
“Never mind about the trolls,” said the master secretary. “Stand up there, girl.”
I turned and went to Iris, our eyes meeting, fearful and confused. “Get up, Iris. I’ll take care of Horc.”
Was I blocking the view enough? I didn’t know. Iris shifted, pushing a struggling Victory into Horc’s hands. He tucked Victory underneath him and I feared for the little phalanx’s ability to breathe. Iris slid off the bed and straightened her nightgown. She was very rumpled with her curls going every which way, but the master secretary seemed to approve. Rickard didn’t. He could always find fault and enjoyed it.
“Excellent,” said the master secretary. “Have her dress in her best and send her to the cardinal’s apartment.”
“Sir?”
“The cardinal wishes to see her. I trust you do not object.”
“Um…no,” I said. “We can be ready in a minute after I do something about these trolls.”
“Not you, Mattie. Only your sister is requested,” said the master secretary.
“But why?”
“Mine is not to question His Grace’s will. I carry out his wishes as do we all. Get her ready immediately and then go for the morning papers.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “It seems His Grace was not able to read the news last night. Any idea why?”
I was struck by a dozen trolls, one bloodying my nose. “No, no. I’ll get new papers immediately.”
“Yes, you will,” said Rickard. “And you’ll tell me where last night’s are. I couldn’t find them in His Grace’s apartment.”
The cardinal didn’t tell them anything about our meeting. That was good. It was the only thing that was good.
I lurched forward, grabbing the door handle and being so pummeled that everything was purple for a moment. “He must’ve thrown them out.”
“I take care of His Grace’s trash,” said Rickard.
Everything was purple again. “Is that all, sir?” I asked, desperate to close the door.
“Yes,” said the master secretary. “And find out what’s wrong with these trolls.”
“Yes, yes. I certainly will.” I closed the door and leaned on it, breathing hard.
I would definitely find out what was wrong with the trolls. Right after I killed them. Two fireballs burst to life in my palms.
“No,” hissed Iris. “You can’t.”
“Have you got a better idea?”
She pointed to the door and mouthed, “Rickard.”
That nasty piece of work was standing outside. No doubt with his ear pressed against the wood. If I incinerated the trolls, he was sure to notice it. I closed my fists, extinguishing the flames. I was sorry to see them go. I missed the feeling of using my gift instead of hiding it.
Gerald stood up on the trundle bed and was promptly knocked to the floor, cursing and rubbing his knees. I helped him up and pushed him into a corner, where he’d be somewhat protected. He shielded his face and spoke, but I couldn’t see his lips clearly between his hands and the flashes of purple going past his face.
“What?” I yelled.
He lowered his hands. “Get Percy to do it.”
“Do what? He can’t even fit in here.”
Gerald made a pulling gesture with his hands. “Have him, you know, suck them out.”
I smiled and a fresh rivulet of blood flowed from my nose into my mouth. “And eat them. Thanks, Gerald.”
“I am a genius like everyone says.”
Everyone was his mother, Eunice, but I didn’t point that out.
“Iris, tell Percy to suck the trolls out the window and eat them.”
“No,” she cried. “They’re living things.”
“That bite me and poop on St. Catherine’s altar. Whose side are you on? This is a purple plague.”
“I’ll tell him to suck them out, but that’s it.” Iris put her hands on her hips and thrust out her chin. She loved everyone it seemed, even the klitzeklein trolls. Just my luck.
“Fine,” I said.
Three trolls hit her, knocking her to her knees and I have to admit there was some satisfaction in that. Iris had such a soft heart. I couldn’t believe the last few months in Vienna without our parents hadn’t toughened her up one bit.
Iris managed to get to the window through the storm of trolls and from the look of her back she was yelling out the window to Percy. Then she backed away. “Okay. He’s going to do it.”
I snatched Horc and Victory off the bed and shoved everyone in the corner by the window. Déjà vu. We’d been in another corner not that long ago, screaming as the humans ripped our mantel off the wall of Whipplethorn Manor. Things hadn’t improved as much as I had hoped.
“Hold on tight!” I yelled. “Go for it, Percy!”
I couldn’t really see out the window from our corner, but I got a glimpse of Percy’s red lip bulging through the small opening and then there was a great rushing feeling. Furniture went flying through the air in a great swirl and in a second it bashed against the wall and window. The trolls flew right past us and, in a great gulp, they were gone. Iris peeled off my hands and ran to the window. “Now spit them out, Percy. That’s a good boy. Just spit.”
I went to the window and looked out at Percy and Penelope hovering outside the wall of St. Stephen’s. Percy’s cheeks were puffed out and he didn’t look so much like he wanted to spit. Swallowing was much more likely.
“Please, Percy!” yelled my soft-as-a-marshmallow sister.
I turned to Gerald. “What’s he going to do, dragon expert?”
He put his nose in the air, which meant he had no clue. “Moroccan Spice Dragons are unpredictable.”
“That’s
helpful.”
“Creatures of the fae aren’t mathematic equations. There isn’t one right answer, but you should tell Percy what you want.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “Me? I’m no Iris.”
Victory popped his head out of Horc’s fist and raised his. “I will command the dragons. I am Victory.”
I put my fingers to my lips and shook my head. “I’ll do it.”
“I command the dragons.”
“No, you do not, pipsqueak,” said Horc.
“Who are you calling pipsqueak, boulder boy.”
“Sssh,” I said with a meaningful glance at the door. Then I leaned out the window and said, “Okay, Percy. You have to spit those trolls out or Iris will totally freak out. You don’t want that, do you?”
Percy blinked.
“But don’t spit them out here. Take them away to, I don’t know, the train station or something and spit them out there.”
And if you happen to eat them Iris will never know.
Percy and Penelope seemed to talk it over between themselves and then flew off toward the Westbahnhof. With any luck the dragon would spit them on a train to Bucharest. That seemed like a good place for klitzeklein trolls. Mostly because I wasn’t there.
“I hope he doesn’t eat them,” said Iris, biting her lip.
“He will not, mother,” said Victory.
I glanced toward the door and whispered, “Is he still there?”
Iris cocked her head to the side and listened. “No, but Miss Penrose is really sick today.”
I heaved a sigh. Was there ever any good news that wasn’t accompanied by bad?
“I will order her to stop,” said Victory, climbing out of Horc’s fist and up his arm, neck, and then standing on his lumpy bald head. Horc scowled and batted at him, but his arms were too short.
“Onward, minion!” said Victory.
“Victory,” I said. “That’s not how things work. You can’t order people not to be sick.”
If you could, I would’ve done it long ago.
“I can. She must stop. I will it.” He pointed his spindly arm at the door.
I plucked Victory off Horc’s head as he snapped at the phalanx. “No biting.”
“Biting is required,” said Horc.
Iris reached over and drew the angry spriggan into her arms. “You can’t bite your brother.”
“That thing is not my brother. Phalanx and spriggans are not related.”
“Neither are spriggans and wood fairies, but here we are,” I said.
Victory paced back and forth on my palm. “You say I can’t order her to stop.”
“You can’t order her to do anything.”
“We shall see. I will learn her weaknesses and exploit them.”
Gerald and I shared a look over Victory’s head.
“He makes me look humble,” said Gerald with a wry smile.
I chuckled, hugging him and placing Victory on his shoulder. “Put that considerable brain to the problem. I don’t know what to do and I haven’t got the time to figure it out.”
“There are plenty of problems to go around.” Gerald glanced around the room. Everything was upturned. My bed was broken and Gerald’s trundle bad was gone, sucked into Percy’s gullet. My side table where I kept all my herbs and tinctures was gone. All that work and money gone out the window. Stupid trolls.
“Our situation is not improving,” said Gerald.
“No kidding.”
“It’s not so bad,” said Iris. “We’re all okay.”
“If you don’t count Miss Penrose and Delphine,” I said.
“It’ll be fine.”
I ran my fingers through my snarled hair and straightened my dress and apron. “At least the trolls are gone. Iris, you better get dressed and see what the cardinal wants.”
My sister, not the bravest at the best of times, drew back and looked like she wanted to hide in a corner. “What do you think it is?”
I shrugged. The cardinal had only seen Iris the day I’d applied for the job and he’d been polite to Iris, but didn’t seem to notice her much. I was surprised he even remembered that she existed. “Get dressed and find out. I have to go. If I don’t get those papers, Rickard will be all over me.”
“I shall accompany you,” declared Victory from Gerald’s shoulder.
I sighed and retied my apron. “You shall stay with Gerald and learn about the world you’re living in. It’s a lot bigger than your egg. Gerald will help you understand.”
Victory stroked his chin and then declared, “I will do it!”
Gerald looked at Victory out of the corner of his eye with a tinge of distaste. Served him right, the little know-it-all. Victory reminded me of him. He could learn to deal with himself.
“Sounds good,” I said, plucking Rufus off my neck and handing him to Gerald. I tried to persuade Fidelé to get off, but he only wrapped his tail around my neck like a noose. “I guess I’m taking a gargoyle.”
“And a spriggan,” said Horc, holding up his chubby arms.
“I don’t think so.”
“I need a babysitter and everyone else is busy. You have to take me.”
“I could put you in a drawer like your spriggan mother would do,” I said.
Horc waved his arm like he was presenting a prize. “We do not have a drawer.”
It was too true. Our one dresser was broken in half from the great troll suck and our clothes were spilling out on the floor.
“Fine,” I said, pulling on my cloak and giving him the little coat Delphine had managed to make him out of a chocolate box liner. I couldn’t decide whether it improved his stink or made it worse. He put up the hood to conceal his lumpy sprigganess and we went to check on Miss Penrose and Delphine.
Miss Penrose was coughing her head off and I had not a single herb left to help her. The thought made me so incredibly tired. Horc seemed to sense my sorrow because he touched my cheek and snuggled into my chest, soothing gestures he’d learned from Iris.
“I’m sorry,” said Miss Penrose after she finished the hacking.
I told her about the trolls and my supplies going out the window. Delphine was still asleep. Maybe I did overdo it on the sleep tea, not that I regretted it.
“Don’t worry about me.” Miss Penrose got out of bed and attempted to look healthy. It didn’t work.
“We’re going to get the papers. Can you get breakfast?”
“Of course. You don’t have to do everything by yourself,” she said.
Oh, really.
“Matilda, ask for help and you will receive it.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. How could I ask for help from someone who looked like she was going to keel over at any minute?
“Uh huh.” I turned to leave and she stopped me with a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I’m feeling better now. I think I can work.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Toratessi may have laid her egg. There might be a position at the school for me. I’ll go over after breakfast and find out.” She began coughing again and I half expected a lung to fly out of her mouth.
“If you don’t rest and get completely well, you’ll never be able to teach,” I said. “I’ll go to the school.”
“Do you even know where the school is?” she asked, smiling.
“In the palace.”
“You surprise me. I don’t know why. You’re a surprising person.”
“My sister is the most surprising,” said Horc. “For instance, she forbade me from eating Victory, which, as you know, would solve a lot of difficulties.”
Miss Penrose wrinkled her nose. “You wouldn’t eat your new brother.”
“He is most certainly not my brother.”
She raised a thin eyebrow at me and said, “Go to the Sisi Museum and ask for Toratessi. She’s an angelo di pietra. You can’t miss her.”
I had no clue what an angelo di pietra was, but I didn’t want to look ignorant, so I just made her put on a warm sweater and rushed o
ut. Now I had to make it to a newspaper stand that hadn’t been destroyed and the palace fast enough not to raise the master secretary’s ire and I had to do it carrying a gargoyle and a spriggan. If that wasn’t a recipe for disaster, I didn’t know what one was and I knew disaster.
Chapter Nine
HORC REACHED UP and tugged on the fur of my hood. “Where are we going?”
“To the palace.” I could see the Hofburg Palace through the warren of streets, but we weren’t close and Horc was made of lead. If I didn’t set him down soon, my wings would fall off.
“The papers are the priority. Miss Penrose cannot work.”
“I told her I’d go and I can’t carry the papers through the palace. Why can’t you have wings?”
“I have brains. That is much more important.”
“Not at this moment,” I said.
Horc growled down deep in his chest and the rumble against my ribs made me smile. Fidelé didn’t like it so much and crawled around through my hood and settled on the side of my neck, hissing his displeasure.
You can’t make everyone happy or, if you’re me, anyone. I made a few turns and we arrived at the side of the palace, not the right side naturally. From that angle, the palace looked like a fancy apartment building with statues stuck on top and three floors worth of windows.
“Wrong side,” announced Horc. “This is the Stallburg.”
“How do you know?”
“I hear things.”
“Don’t rub it in,” I said, smiling at his puzzled look.
“I was stating a fact,” said Horc.
“I know. Tell me which way before I decide to drop you and see if you bounce like klitzeklein trolls.”
“I do not bounce, but I might dent the street.”
I heaved him higher on my hip. “Come on. You’re killing me.”
“Go right.”
The entrance to the Hofburg Palace wasn’t far thankfully. I flew down a narrow street to a square filled with milling humans and lined with Christmas market stalls. It was early and they were buttoned up tight, but I could smell the lingering scent of pastries, glühwein and punsch. In a few hours, the humans would push up the wooden overhangs to make festive awnings and proceed to get all the passersby drunk.
I wished they were open I could’ve used some pastry and glühwein wouldn’t have hurt, considering the fat snowflakes that had begun drifting down into the square.
Wicked Chill (Away From Whipplethorn Book Four) Page 7
