by Unknown
“How about a basket?” asked Frank.
“He’d only jump out.”
“Picnic basket with a lid?”
“We aren’t rich,” said Theodora. “We don’t have baskets for picnics, and we don’t have baskets with lids.”
“I’ll bring one next time.”
“There won’t be a next time,” said Theodora. “Either I’ll find my mother’s ring today or not at all.”
“Why?” asked Frank.
“Because we just let the mechanical man go, so I’ll never be able to ask him again.”
“But you have his answer.”
“I have today’s answer,” said Theodora. “Do you think I haven’t asked him before?”
“Have you ever let him out of his box before?” asked Frank.
“If I had, do you think he would still have been here?”
“So maybe this time he told you the truth,” said Frank.
“I hope so,” said Theodora, “because I’ve been coming here for years. Twice I was captured by winged monkeys. Once a wicked witch screamed at me. Once I was attacked by angry trees. This is not a reliable world.”
“What did the wicked witch scream?”
“She screamed. There weren’t any words.”
“Then how do you know she’s wicked?”
“Because she was even uglier and meaner-looking than Auntie Bess,” said Theodora. “That’s my standard. One inch uglier, plus the screaming, and I know you’re wicked.”
“How much ugly is there in an inch of it?” asked Frank. “I never knew it could be measured.”
“Is your mother ugly?” asked Theodora.
“Not at all. She’s mostly pretty.”
“But not entirely.”
“Very close.”
“Let’s say she’s three inches away from totally pretty. Auntie Bess is one inch away from purity of ugliness. You do the arithmetic.”
Frank wasn’t very sure of his arithmetic—he had learned his numbers, plus adding and subtracting very small numbers, without borrowing or carrying, though he’d heard of such operations. It was all very mysterious, so he decided to take her word for it.
They walked into very deep woods. The road stayed yellow, but under the shade the yellow wasn’t half so bright, and as they climbed higher and higher, it became more and more autumnal, and more fallen leaves were strewn and blown across the road. Also Frank was quite sure he heard a distant roaring sound from time to time. Each time it sounded less distant.
“Do you hear that?” he finally asked.
“It’s only a lion.”
“A lion from the carnival?” asked Frank.
“Do I look like Queen of the Lion Tribe?” asked Theodora.
“You know more than I do,” said Frank.
“And don’t you forget it,” said Theodora.
The roaring got very close, until at last it was right in front of them, in the form of a very large lion. Frank could easily imagine his whole head fitting inside its mouth, with room left over for two mice and a toothpick.
“So you finally got here,” said Theodora.
The lion roared very fiercely and moved closer. Slobber dribbled from its mouth.
Theodora reached out with the hem of her dress and wiped the lip. Frank expected her hand to disappear, but the lion did not bite.
“What was that about?” asked Frank.
“I think it’s so untidy for him to be letting spittle drip all over the road,” said Theodora. “Somebody might slip on that and hurt himself.”
The lion gave the fiercest roar of all, and then snapped its jaws down on their held hands.
Theodora at once kicked the lion in the throat. Its mouth flew open, and the animal made gagging noises as it backed away.
“Is kicking a lion really a good idea?” asked Frank.
“I don’t know,” said Theodora. “But I do know that biting off our hands would be a very bad idea.”
“I wasn’t going to bite off your stupid nasty hands,” said the lion. Its voice rasped as if it were trying to cough up a hairball. “I was just tasting.”
“Well, you got your nasty spit all over our hands, and because we can’t let go of each other we can’t even wash it off,” said Theodora.
Frank was beginning to get the idea that either Theodora was always rude to everyone, or she was rude to everyone in the Empire of the Air.
“Since you’re the first talking creature we met since we left the mechanical man at the carnival,” said Theodora, “I expect you to be able to tell me: Where did the crow take my mother’s ring?”
“Funny you should ask,” said the lion. “I ate the crow and pooped out the ring three days ago.”
“The crow took my mother’s ring three years ago.”
“And you think I can remember?”
“I think you’d better tell me instead of playing dumb,” said Theodora.
“Maybe he’s not playing,” said Frank.
“Do you want me to bite off your head?” asked the lion. “I could, you know.”
Frank did not doubt it.
Theodora kicked the lion in the throat again. This time the coughing and choking and gagging went on even longer. “What was that for?”
“For threatening my friend and for not answering my question.”
“I did answer it,” said the lion.
“With a lie, so that doesn’t count.”
“How do you know I was lying?” asked the lion.
“Because you couldn’t eat it and poop it out. It’s filled with my mother’s love. It would have burned a hole right through you and you’d be pooping out of everywhere, like all the holes in a sponge.”
“That is such an unpleasant image,” said the lion.
“My mother said that ring had all her love in it, and it was supposed to come to the person who needed it most, and that was me. But a crow from the air stole it right off the table beside her bed, and in that very moment she died,” said Theodora. “So you know that ring could not have passed by you and you not see it.”
“I was asleep.”
“I’ll put you to sleep, you bag of hair.”
“I’ll ask around and see if one of the other woodland beasts has seen it,” said the lion. “I’m king here, you know. They all obey me.”
“Nobody obeys you,” said Theodora. “Because you’re a liar and clearly you’re afraid of the crows and don’t want to get caught telling their secrets.” She gestured with a shoulder toward a nearby tree, where there was indeed a crow perched on a low branch.
“I’m not afraid of crows,” said the lion. But Frank had seen him jump a little when he saw the crow. What with Theodora kicking him in the throat and him being scared of crows, Frank was reaching some unfortunate preliminary conclusions about the amount of the lion’s courage, and whether it existed at all.
“How many inches from a coward is this lion?” asked Frank softly.
“No inches,” said Theodora. “He’s obviously a carnival lion. Look at the scars on his behind. He was trained to the whip. He’s a beaten lion.”
The lion burst into tears. “He waved a chair at me,” he wailed.
“I’ll wave more than a chair at you,” said Theodora. “Where is my mother’s ring?”
“The crow would have taken it to the Emperor of the Air,” said the lion. “Where else?”
“How would I know?” asked Theodora. “I’ve never been a crow, and I’m not from around here.”
“That’s where everything shiny and beautiful and strong gets taken, so where did you think?”
“I thought maybe the witch. Or the crow’s nest.”
“First, it’s not really a crow, it’s a raven. And the ravens are his agents. He sends them out into the world to watch. You are a very young and ignorant child, if you don’t know that.”
Theodora turned to Frank. “I bet the scarecrow and the mechanical man both knew that.”
“I bet you didn’t ask them where the crow would take
the ring, did you,” said the lion.
“They knew what I wanted,” said Theodora.
“They knew what you asked,” said the lion. “I bet you asked which way the crow went.”
“All right, take us there,” said Theodora.
“Where?”
“To the Emperor of the Air,” said Theodora.
“He’s the Emperor of the Air,” said the lion. “How would I know where he is?”
“The raven knew,” she said.
“He can fly. Do you see any wings here?”
Theodora kicked the lion in the throat for the third time. This time his legs collapsed under him and he splayed out on the road, coughing feebly. Finally he whispered, “I’m going to get angry very soon now.”
“You’re going to take us to the Emperor of the Air.”
“I told you that I—”
“You asked me how would you know where he is,” said Theodora. “But you didn’t say that you don’t know. If you didn’t know, you would have said so.” She turned to Frank. “I believe that in the Empire of the Air, nobody can actually lie straight out. But they’re very good at dodging.”
“Not good enough,” coughed the lion.
“Take us there,” said Theodora.
“He doesn’t want to see you,” said the lion.
“Did he tell you that this very morning?” asked Theodora.
“It’s a general principle,” said the lion.
“He’ll see me because he has something that belongs to me and I want it back and he’s a good emperor!”
“Who told you that?” asked the lion.
“You see?” said Theodora to Frank. “A question, not an answer. If he really wasn’t a good emperor, the lion would have said so.”
“I hate you even more than the mechanical man loves you,” said the lion.
“By the power of my mother’s ring, I command you to take me.”
“When you grow up,” said the lion to Frank, “do not marry this girl. I can promise you, she’s a future witch.”
“I’m not going to marry her!” said Frank. “She’s nine and I’m six.”
“I’m not a future witch,” said Theodora. “I’m a witch now.”
“The question is, are you a good witch or a bad witch?” asked the lion.
“I’m the witch who asked you where I can find the Emperor of the Air,” said Theodora. “It’s up to you whether I’m good or bad.”
“You’re already bad,” said the lion.
“But I can get worse,” said Theodora. “Or better. You pick.”
“Follow me,” said the lion.
And so they did. They walked a long time. The yellow road forked three times, but the lion seemed to know which way to go. Theodora stayed with him, holding on to his tail, and Frank held on to her.
“You do realize that my parents will be upset if I’m not home for supper,” said Frank.
“You will be,” said Theodora.
“We’ve walked a long way, and we still have to get back.”
“We’re in the Empire of the Air,” said Theodora. “The rules are different here.”
“My parents are back in Aberdeen, and in our house they make the rules.”
“The Emperor of the Air rules over everybody in both worlds,” said Theodora.
“I know who the president is, and I know who’s queen of England, but I’ve never heard of the Emperor of the Air.”
“Who’s president?” asked Theodora.
“Benjamin Harrison,” said Frank.
“Not here he isn’t,” said Theodora. “But the Emperor of the Air is emperor everywhere.”
“Even under water?”
“There’s air under water,” said Theodora. “That’s how fish breathe.”
“They don’t breathe, they have gills, Father said.”
“They have gills, but their gills still need air. There has to be air mixed in with the water, so the Emperor of the Air rules there, too.”
“You are so ridiculous,” said the lion. “Thinking that your thinking is worth thinking about.”
At last they came to a place where the forest opened up and there in the distance were the spires and turrets and towers of a great city. The towers were every color and texture, some bright-colored and shiny in the late afternoon sunlight, and some rich in color but not shiny, and some black as a cloudless night. Only one was gleaming pure white. It glowed as if its light came from within; it did not seem to reflect the reddening sunlight at all.
“Is the white tower where he lives?” asked Frank.
“He is alive wherever he goes,” said the lion. “How ridiculous to think he lives in only one place, when he can go anywhere he wants.”
“I wonder if London looks like this,” said Theodora.
“I’ve seen Chicago, and it does not,” said Frank.
“You’ve never.”
“Have so,” said Frank. “I was only four, but I remember. I’ve also been to New York City, but I don’t really remember that.”
“This is the City of the Emperor of the Air,” said the lion. “There are no other cities worthy of the name.”
Frank did not argue with him. He was not one of those foolish boys who has to quarrel and claim that whatever he likes or knows is better than whatever he doesn’t like or doesn’t know. Several such boys had tried to pick a fight with him that very day, at noon recess. But there could be no quarrel when Frank cheerfully agreed that their fathers could lick his father, their brothers his brothers, their mothers his mother, and they him. He only disagreed about sisters, and then only because he hadn’t any. “But if I had a sister, I’m sure your sisters could lick her.” Frank’s willingness to admit complete inferiority kept him from getting a black eye, and as his father had long since explained to him, “Let fools believe their foolishness; there’s no point in arguing with imbeciles.” This coincided nicely with Frank’s native disposition, which was to quarrel with no one and keep his innate superiority a secret from all. If it became general knowledge, it would only cause resentment.
Besides, what if Theodora really was smarter than Frank and not just older and more experienced? Wouldn’t that be a shocker?
As for the Emperor of the Air, Frank still held on to a bit of skepticism about whether he existed at all. After meeting the mechanical man and the talking lion, Frank was beginning to think that the world was a very different place than his experience had led him to believe. Wasn’t it possible, given what he’d already seen, that Theodora really was a witch? Anyone who could kick a lion three times in the throat and not get her head bitten off must have some kind of magical power. Or incredible luck.
It seemed almost as long a time as they had already traveled, to get from the forest edge across the endless meadowland, close-cropped by goats and sheep, to finally arrive at the city, though they could see the city all the way. The yellow road changed color as soon as they entered the city, with strands of many colors arising among the bricks, coalescing, and then leading off in many directions. But always there was at least one street that was mostly yellow, or had a yellow band through it, and that was the road the lion followed.
They passed many people dressed in many odd costumes. None of them seemed to care that a wild lion was walking among them—though some of them did stare at Theodora as if they sensed something important about her. They spared nary a glance at Frank, and he wondered if he might still be a bit invisible here in this place.
The yellow street at last led them to a broad gate of intertwining iron rods. They could see through the gate into a garden, lush with greenery of many hues and alive with birds that lighted and took flight, usually alone but sometimes in great flocks. He knew many of the kinds of birds, because he was an observant child with a fine memory for names and classifications. But there were far more birds that he had never heard of, or seen, or even seen pictures of.
“Is this the Garden of the Air?” he asked.
“It’s the garden of the Emperor,”
said the lion, “but I think he would like your name for it. It’s the birds, yes? So many birds, it makes it seem as if the whole garden were about to rise up and fly away. As if the birds were the lacework of the land, and someone were tossing the lace up and down like a blanket being aired out in the yard.”
“You’re talking in very fine language now,” said Theodora.
“I’m so much wiser inside the boundaries of this city,” said the lion. “Especially when I’m not being kicked in the throat.”
The lion led them to the center of the garden, where a little stool sat in the middle of a green patch of low vegetation—not a lawn, but rather a broad cushion of small leaves undulating over the ground, with tiny blossoms scattered like stars in the sky.
The lion circled the stool three times and then sat upon it. In that instant he became a man in a robe of tawny silk, with a circlet of woven lion’s mane hairs around his head.
“How long have you been the Emperor of the Air?” asked Theodora.
“As long as there has been need of one,” said the Emperor. “But you’re asking at what point I took the lion’s place and sent him back to rule over the woods and refrain from roaring until his throat healed, is that not so?”
“Why did we have to come all the way here,” asked Frank, “if you were already with us?”
“I could have come to you as a shabby man on the road, or in the guise of a clever scarecrow or as a love-besotted mechanical man or as a cowardly lion, but would you have known me then, or believed me if I named myself?”
“I knew you before I saw you,” said Theodora, and she knelt before him and held out her hand. “You know why I’m here. You have something of mine.”
“I think not,” said the Emperor of the Air. “You are quick to claim what you never owned.”
“She’s dead, and I’m her only daughter, so it’s mine.”
“Her daughter, yes,” said the Emperor, and he reached into his mouth and took from it a golden ring. “Was this tasty thing what you came here for?” He dropped it into Theodora’s open hand.
At once Theodora’s fingers closed over it. Then she tried to push it onto each finger of the other hand in turn.
It was too small for any of them.
Theodora handed it back. “This is not the ring.”
“You know it is,” said the Emperor. “You knew your mother’s love; you felt it every day of your life. You recognize it here.”
