“Aoife?” I said.
Her eyes shifted to me. They were the only thing that wasn’t black and her green irises were glowing in contrast.
“Why don’t you put down the knife?” I asked softly, looking around for backup, but there was only Lonica who was leaning out the window for some fresh air. The rest of the kitchen staff had scrammed. Cowards.
Fidelé scampered back and forth on my shoulders, sneezing out puffs of black soot. His claws dug in every time he turned. I was going to have a hundred puncture marks.
“You vile creatures!” yelled Aoife. “I will carve your livers. I will feed them to the gargoyles.” She took a step toward D. “Invade my kitchen, will you? Destroy my stove, will you?”
“The master secretary hired them!” I yelled.
She looked at me with those glittering eyes. “Is that so?”
Uh oh!
She changed direction and came toward me instead. What was I going to do? That was a pretty big carving knife and she had the will to use it. Any fool, even Rickard, could see that. I could light a little fire for distraction, but nothing in that kitchen worked right. Who would buy that a decent fire just happened?
Aoife held the knife in front of her. “The master secretary?”
“Yes,” I said haltingly.
She slammed the knife onto the counter next to me. I must’ve jumped a half inch.
“Alright then,” she said. “What do they do?”
“Fix things.” Although looking at the incredible mess that wasn’t immediately apparent.
“Off to a raging start, I see.”
I gave her a wide berth and went for the stove or at least what was left of it. “D you better tell me, I mean us, what you’re doing.”
He didn’t look directly at me as usual. “Fixing it.”
“Do you know what’s wrong with it?”
“Clogged. No good oxygen for the flames.”
Aoife shook out her wings and a fresh cloud of black and green glitter filled the room, causing everyone to cough. “When will it be done?”
“Ten minutes.”
Our mouths dropped open. The stove was in about two hundred pieces. Lonica came up, trying to brush the soot off her beautifully painted clothes. “Did he say ten minutes?”
“It’ll take ten hours to clean up this mess,” said Aoife.
“Not our problem,” said D. “We’re from the Home Depot.”
Aoife and Lonica looked at me and I shrugged. I would’ve explained, but I still didn’t understand what they were.
“Well, I better be going. I’ve got work to do.”
Ponderosa to save.
“You’re leaving them here?” asked Lonica. “What if they take apart the other stoves?”
“They probably will.”
“What do we do with them?”
“Tell them what’s broken and they’ll fix it,” I said. “Oh, and you have to feed them. Bye.”
I slipped out the door with Lonica staring at me. I was going to hear about that cleaning job for a month, but at least we’d be able to get hot food. I thought I’d made a clean getaway, well not really clean, but an escape anyway, but Lonica caught up to me in the hall.
“Where did you find those fairies?” she asked.
“I’d say they found us. Don’t you have to go and clean up or something?”
“No. Aoife said we’ll let them destroy the kitchen and then we’ll clean it.”
“Sounds good. See you later.”
She didn’t take the hint and followed me out into the clean air of the cathedral, snagging a wingtip before I got away. “Where are you going?”
“To clean up. I can’t go around the cathedral like this. The master secretary wouldn’t like it.”
“I’ll go with you,” she said, preparing to climb down the wall.
“Are you…don’t you…oh okay,” I said, knowing when to give up.
Lonica wasn’t nearly as fast as Bentha, when he wasn’t mostly dead in a box, but she kept up as I flew through the cathedral, trying not to look like I was trying to lose her. That would’ve been way too lucky and she was right on my heels when I arrived at the tomb.
I landed on the door sill and, for a moment, considered dashing inside and locking her out. When I glanced behind me, there she was smiling and still covered with soot.
“So,” she said, “I heard you went to the palace today.”
“Just for a bit.” I backed down the hall and she followed eagerly. Fantastic. At this rate I’d never get to Bentha.
“Just a bit? You were gone all morning. Did you see him?”
“Him?”
“The archduke, silly. He’s so handsome. Did he talk to you? Did you serve him?” The words rushed out of her mouth so fast I had a hard time understanding.
“Slow down. I didn’t see him,” I said.
“Did you look for him? I’ve heard he likes to sit unobserved in the Sisi museum. Did you go there?” Lonica began preening her soot encrusted branches every time thoughts of the archduke crossed her mind.
“I had to go in the museum, but I wasn’t there to see him.” I made the last turn into our hall and began to panic. I had to ditch Lonica, but she didn’t look like she had any intentions of going away.
“Are you going back?” she asked.
“Uh huh.”
Her eyes went round. “To work?”
“It’s just for extra cleaning,” I said.
“Maybe you’ll see him tomorrow.”
“I don’t really care if I do or not.”
“How can you say that? He’s so wonderful and royalty, too.”
I reached my door and grabbed the handle. Would she expect to come in? That couldn’t happen. “So I’ve got to change and go…chase some trolls or something.”
Lonica’s thin shoulders slumped. “But I’ve got time off. I want to hear all about the palace.” She put her hands over her heart or hearts, if she had as many as Bentha and that got me to thinking.
“How many hearts do you have?” I asked.
She shook her head slightly at the change in conversation. “Three, of course.”
“Are all dryads alike?”
“There are many types of dryads. Is the archduke dating a dryad? If he is, I’ll just die.”
“I don’t know who he’s dating. I meant are all tree dryads alike?” I asked.
“Could you find out?” asked Lonica.
Some soot fell in my eye from my lashes and I blinked the grit away. “I’m asking you.”
“I don’t know who he’s dating. The papers don’t report that kind of thing. The emperor won’t let them.” She made a face when she said the emperor. “I wish the archduke was first born. He’d make a much better emperor. His brother is so dreary. Don’t you think he’s boring and not handsome at all?”
Oh, for crying out loud. Focus, girl.
“Lonica, I’m asking you about tree dryads.”
“Why? Who cares about us?”
I do or I wouldn’t be asking.
“I’m curious. Are you all alike?”
“I guess,” she said, her sooty painted brow wrinkling. “I never thought about it. Since you’re going to be in the palace can you ask around about the archduke?” She flipped her long branches back, leaving trails of soot on the wall. “Maybe I’m his type.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said. “Which healer do you go to when you’re sick?” Maybe if I could find a dryad healer I could help Bentha. I’d seen nothing in Ibn’s book about dryads, but then again I hadn’t been looking.
“I never get sick,” she said.
Of course you don’t.
“What about injuries? Who takes care of dryads then?”
“Why would I get injured?” She was starting to look suspicious.
“You wouldn’t, but I’m new in this country and there are so many species. Do the healers handle them all?”
“There are a lot of species in Vienna. I guess the healers could take ca
re of dryads, but none of us ever get sick, so I don’t know.” She smiled brightly. “You’ll ask about the archduke tomorrow?”
“Hmm…sure. I’ll ask.” I turned the door handle and blocked the opening. “Gotta get cleaned up.”
“Come on. We have plenty of time. Let’s be girls and talk. We never talk.”
This girl never has time.
“Maybe later.”
Behind me the door yanked open and I tumbled back in the room, landing flat on my back. The air was knocked out of my lungs and I was dazed for a second or I would’ve completely panicked. As it turned out I didn’t have to. Miss Penrose stepped in front of me and Lonica immediately rushed away.
I got up on my elbows and managed to wheeze out, “What did you say to her?”
Miss Penrose closed the door. “The only thing that would get rid of the dear girl. I told her that I heard a rumor that the archduke was coming to tea with his grace.”
“I should’ve thought of that,” I said, climbing to my feet.
“I agree.” Horc sat in the corner amidst a pile of sticks, the remains of our dresser. He gnawed on a side panel and spewed splinters out like fireworks.
“Stop that. It’s gross.”
“I prefer gross. And speaking of gross. You are filthy. I like it.”
“You’re the only one.” I looked around for Bentha’s toolbox, but didn’t see it or Gerald and Iris. I sucked in a breath. “Where are Gerald and Iris?”
Miss Penrose patted my shoulder and pulled her hand back in distaste. “They were here, but Rickard came and said you had to go clean up the chamber pots from the residence. He was quite nasty about it, so they went to do it.”
“Gerald went to clean chamber pots? Seriously?” I could see Iris helping me out that way, but not Gerald. His so-called intelligence put him above such things. Lucky for him I wasn’t above anything.
Miss Penrose shrugged. “I was surprised, too. But they said you had more important things to do. What things are those?”
I looked around the room again. Only the bed I shared with Iris was intact, but not looking good all humped up in the corner. “When you saw them, did they have a toolbox?”
“Yes. It was strange, too. They hid it under your bed and told me not to tell anyone about it. Where’d they get a toolbox?”
I didn’t answer. I ran to the bed and peeled the mattress back. Underneath was Bentha’s toolbox. “Help me pull this out.”
Miss Penrose and I lifted the bed frame off and pulled the box into the center of the room.
“Can you hear anyone outside the door?” I asked.
She tilted her head and listened. Her hearing wasn’t nearly as good as Iris’s, but she shook her head. “No one’s there. Why?”
“Now stay calm and don’t scream. It’s okay,” I said.
“Scream? I don’t like the sound of that.”
I was hit in the side of the face with a multitude of splinters. “Horc. I said stop that.”
“I am ready to eat.”
“This is more important.”
“Not possible. Food is my priority.”
“It won’t be once you see this.” I knelt in front of the box and flipped open the lid. Miss Penrose did scream, despite my warning and it was so loud I actually heard a hint of it.
“I said not to scream.”
“You should’ve warned me,” she said.
“I did.”
Horc toddled over and looked glumly down into the toolbox. “Not dead, I presume.”
“Not dead?” asked Miss Penrose, bursting into tears. “Not dead? That’s as dead as a person can get.”
“Not as dead as a ponderosa can get,” I said. “He’s only mostly dead.”
She brightened up. “That’s why you were asking Lonica about dryad healers. I was wondering what you were up to.”
Horc toddled around the box, examining the container. “Whose toolbox is this?”
“The Home Depot fairies,” I said. “Lrag packed up Bentha and told them to escape.”
Miss Penrose grabbed my arm in a grip I didn’t know she possessed. “Lrag’s alright? Tell me he’s alright.”
I patted her hand. “He was when they last saw him about a week ago.”
She turned away and put her face in her hands. I’d quite forgotten about Miss Penrose and Lrag. They weren’t an obvious pairing, but in the last battle, Lrag made it clear that he would fight and die for her. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Love in the time of desperate illness and rebellion. It didn’t seem likely.
Horc poked me. “Can you cure him?”
I pulled out Ibn’s book. “I don’t know. Grandma Vi never taught me about tree dryads. There were none around. I didn’t even know they had three hearts until he told me.”
I thumbed through the pages of Ibn’s thick book, looking for the word dryad or ponderosa, and found nothing. I was disappointed, but it did make sense. Ibn was healer to the French royal family. He was barred from treating anyone but them. He did do it on the sly, but his experience with other species besides wood fairy was very limited. A flash of anger went through me. The insistence on keeping the vermillion away from the rest of the French population was one of the causes of the resurgence of the revolution and the cause of Ibn’s death and my family being in prison. Both sides of the revolution had tried to kill me in Paris. Nobody was right, but I suspected the royal family was less right than most. They couldn’t see beyond tradition and kept healing from the people. If the king appeared before me at that moment, I probably would’ve barbecued him.
Miss Penrose turned around, coughing and weeping. She spoke, but I couldn’t understand her. I looked at Horc and he said, “Have you found a solution?”
That sounded more like Horc than Miss Penrose, but it was probably close enough.
“No. Ibn didn’t treat dryads as far as I can tell.” I turned to the middle of the book. “There’s a cure for extreme dry skin.” I hunched over.
Miss Penrose and Horc began rustling around the room. Each of their movements felt like a tightening noose. “Quiet,” I said. “I have to think.”
“But you can’t hear us anyway,” said Horc.
“I can feel your discussion. I can feel your doubt. Leave if you can’t believe.”
They settled down on either side of me as I read the spell and treatment. Maybe it would work. What choice did I have? I gave Horc the book and went to Bentha’s shoulders. “Let’s put him on the mattress. I have to find out what his injuries are.”
Miss Penrose and I lifted Bentha out of the box, placed him on the mattress, and unfolded his stiff limbs. It was hard for Miss Penrose. I sometimes forgot how delicate she was in both nature as well as body. Fidelé jumped off my shoulder and coiled around Bentha’s head. His sides were belling out and his claws latched onto the few broken pine needles Bentha still had on his head.
Horc tugged on my skirt and pointed in the toolbox. “Look.”
My hand went over my mouth and my heart up into my throat. In the bottom of Bentha’s toolbox nestled in a blanket was Grandma Vi’s medical bag and Bentha’s favorite sword. I held my breath and touched the handle. It was real.
“I’ll get it.” Miss Penrose barely managed to lift the bag out of the toolbox and set it beside Bentha on the bed before collapsing exhausted on my mattress. I unlocked it with the silver key I wore on a chain around my neck and telescoped the shelves out. Everything was there. Not a bottle was missing. It was like a member of my family had come back from the dead. I never expected to see Grandma’s bag again.
“Matilda,” said Miss Penrose. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m better than okay.” I searched around in the bag until I found Grandma’s snub-nosed bandage shears.
“What are you going to do?” asked Miss Penrose, growing even paler than normal.
“Cut off his clothes.”
“Oh, no. You shouldn’t do that. It’s not nice. You’re a young girl and he’s a—”
“A
dried out, mostly dead ponderosa,” I said, rolling my eyes. “It has to be done. Do you want to do it?”
Of course she didn’t. Miss Penrose was a lovely person, but dirty work wasn’t her specialty. It had definitely become mine. I made slits up Bentha’s pant legs. There were several wounds, slashing sword strikes. None of them would’ve stopped a ponderosa. I cut open his shirt to find multiple stab wounds in his torso. Two were directly to the center and left heart. His neck was slashed and his right arm was nearly severed. Only a ponderosa could’ve survived it. Any one of those wounds would’ve killed a wood fairy.
He’d lost most of his blood. The remnants were a flaky crust on his narrow chest and soaked into his clothing. Bentha needed so much and it made me feel small and weak. I didn’t have Grandma Vi’s books or her for that matter. How different things would’ve been if she had lived. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have been in Vienna in the first place. My grandmother had the power to change things. She would’ve known exactly what to do and how to do it. It was the same with Ibn. They both had a lifetime of knowledge and what did I have? At that moment, it felt like nothing.
Horc waddled over and plopped down next to Bentha’s head. “Matilda?”
“Yes.”
“What do you know?”
“Huh?” I was barely focusing on Horc.
“What do you know for sure?” he asked.
I forced myself to really look at him. “You’re hungry.”
“Very good. But we will leave that for now.”
“Really?”
“Really. What do you know about Bentha? Make a list.”
Miss Penrose sat beside Horc and smiled. “Yes. Lists are good. He’s completely dried out.”
“Not completely,” I said. “There’s a little blood flowing.”
“He needs more blood,” said Horc. “And moisture.”
“And repairs.” I palpitated his chest and his only working heart was sort of squishy when I pressed against his ribcage. That reminded me of Miss Penrose’s congestive heart failure. Except this would be caused by extreme injury.
“No. No. No,” said Miss Penrose.
“What?”
“You can’t do my spell. That almost killed you when you used it on Percy.”
“I need to know what’s going on in there before I do anything. I need meadowsweet and ma huang. Can you get them please?” I asked Miss Penrose.
Wicked Chill (Away From Whipplethorn Book Four) Page 14
