Undraland

by Mary E. Twomey

Twenty-Six.

  Fallsbury Passage

  “It won’t do to run, Miss Lucy,” Jamie instructed, donning his forced smile as he greeted a few elves who bowed to him as we passed.

  “Isn’t it all about to break loose?”

  “Yes, but there have been no mention of Weres, only that there was a disturbance with their portal. We don’t want to look like we have too much information, now. Do we?”

  “I guess not.” I held tighter to him when four men in the guard’s uniform ran past us toward the castle. “They’re going to discover the busted portal soon, and it’ll all hit the fan. I’d like to be gone when that happens.”

  Jamie looked around the sky as we walked at a pace that was too slow for my taste. He patted my hand as we strolled in the direction of the woods that were thick with knotted trees and aggressive root systems. “We will be. You played your part well. The king and queen won’t suspect you of breaking the portal. Besides, you and I were with them at the time. Perfect alibis.”

  “I was pretty nervous. Things aren’t so formal back home. I’ve never met an honest to goodness queen before. Super cool.”

  “What sort of aristocracy do you have?”

  “My country has a president, but I’ll never even come close to meeting him. Good thing you’ll never see where I lived. Not very impressive when you compare it to kings and princes and whatnot.”

  “Is that what you want? To be a princess?” His curiosity was endearing; it matched his reserved smile perfectly.

  I tripped over my robes that had been hemmed to fit my shorter height. Jamie steadied me, and we continued our walk toward the woods. “Right now I’d settle for four walls that were mine. Four glorious walls that never leave me.” I sighed wistfully as I daydreamed about the simple things that were never attainable for me. “A home with a white picket fence and a garage. Maybe a little bed for Henry Mancini.” Jamie waved to an elf as we passed by a well. “And I’d sit at my kitchen table – not a kitchen nook, a real table – and do my math homework over breakfast.”

  Mom could make blueberry pancakes. Dad could make a fire in my very own fireplace. Linus and I would have a pancake-eating contest, make ourselves sick, and then hold our stomachs all morning and blame the other person for our malady.

  If I could dream up a home I’d never have, then I should be allowed to imagine who I’d want there with me.

  I could tell Jamie was watching me as we walked into the thick tangles of trees and underbrush, so I purposefully kept my gaze straight ahead on our destination as I talked. “Extravagance is nice, but when you’ve never had the simple things, it’s kind of all you want.” I cleared my throat. “You don’t live in your dad’s palace. You chose your own house, so I bet you know what I mean.”

  “I do. One day, perhaps we’ll both get what we want,” Jamie said.

  I seriously doubt it. I want my family back, and you want to be with Britta. “Maybe. But can you even admit what you want?”

  Judging by the pallor of his face, I could tell I’d hit too hard. His thick lips were drawn in a tight line as he lifted a low-hanging branch out of the way. “I take it Jens has been telling stories again?”

  “I guessed. It’s pretty obvious. Britta’s a cool person. I can see why you’d be attracted.”

  Jamie picked up his pace, taking us deeper into the forest, and cutting out a portion of the daylight from our path. We climbed over obnoxiously intrusive roots and brush. “It’s not proper for us to talk about such things.”

  I gave him a withering look as I picked up the hem of my dress to keep from tripping over it. “Newsflash, you don’t have to hide anything on our little trip. We’re not actually in proper society right now. I don’t think Nik, Tor or Foss really care who you’ve got the hots for.”

  “Your phrasing is very telling.” He climbed over a felled tree with a trunk as wide as a yardstick. “I’m afraid it doesn’t matter who I’ve ‘got the hots for’. My choices have been made for me.” Then in a quieter voice, he added, “But I suppose my heart is still my own. There’s no crime in wanting something.”

  “No crime at all.” I tried to keep the conversation going, but the many-layered dress was not meant for climbing over felled trees. I tugged, ripping a small piece of the pretty fabric. “Ah, man! It’s like the dress knows it doesn’t belong on me, and is trying to get away to a better owner.”

  Jamie bent down and wiggled the torn off piece free from the root it snagged on. “I don’t like the idea of leaving a trail for the Mouthpiece to follow.”

  “The what?”

  “The Mouthpiece. Pesta’s mouthpiece? You know, the Undran Pesta sends her soul into when she wants to move around outside the Land of Be?”

  I pointed to my blank expression. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.” Then I snapped my fingers in time with the click that happened in my brain. “Wait, I remember. Yeah, yeah. The dude who’s not really a dude, but acts like a puppet for Pesta to operate. Go on. I’m paying attention.”

  Jamie searched around for any other part of me I might be leaving behind before he continued on our journey. “Pesta can’t leave Be. That’s part of the agreement, but she figured out how to send her soul out into Undra. So she’s technically not breaking the treaty because her body’s still in Be. Father was not pleased about that. Neither were the Fossegrimens or pretty much anyone in Undraland.” He shook his head, offering his hand to me to assist me over an uneven surface. “She chooses someone who’s weak, and they let her in. For all intents and purposes, she becomes them.”

  “Um, what? And you guys allow that? What’s the point of pretending she’s chained to Be, then?”

  Jamie answered my blunt question with kindness. “The Mouthpiece has none of her powers. They can barely access their own. All the same, I’d rather the Mouthpiece not find you if she’s already sent Weres out for you.” He dropped my hand so I could pick up my long dress and jump over a protruding root. “Alrik was smart to declare your presence among the Elves so loudly, holding a conference with you as the special guest. The Mouthpiece wouldn’t dare attack you in the open, especially now that you’re beloved by Alrik and me.”

  I clasped my hands together under my chin. “Aw! You belove me? I belove you, too.”

  Jamie laughed, confused but amused at my humor. “That’s quite an honor. Thank you, Miss Lucy.” He laughed a couple more times at random as we walked. “Hallamar and Sorena took a shine to you, which helps deter any uprising the Mouthpiece might try to start against you in Elvage.” He gave me an approving look. “You did quite well back there.”

  “Thanks. Who’s the Mouthpiece? Does it change whenever she gets bored?”

  Jamie shook his head. “No. Once she’s in a body, her soul’s chained to it until they die. If Mouthpiece vessels started dropping all over the place, no one would let her in again. It would be bad for her plan to leave a body under suspicious circumstances.” He scratched his chin as an orange bird the size of a puma flew overhead. “The vessel is a Fossegrimmen named Rasmus. I know what he looks like, so you needn’t fear. I’ll make sure we aren’t followed.” He tugged on my hand. “Up and over this one. Do you need help?”

  “Man, your world’s confusing.” I sized up the felled tree in our path. “I think I’ve got this.” I put my hands up as high as they could reach, but I was still a few inches shy of spanning the width of the horizontal trunk. No sooner did I get a solid footing than two strong hands gripped my waist. I shrieked as I was lifted off the ground. “Jens!” I cried when his face appeared.

  “Forget about me? I’ve been with you the whole time.”

  “Oh, sorry. I guess I did. I’m not used to the whole invisibility thing.” I mentally ran over everything Jamie and I had talked about and ruled with relief that none of it would be embarrassing if he heard it.

  The fact that I could not pick and choose what Jens was around for hit me all at once. I’m sure it should have much earlier, but I was dealing with a lot o
f new stuff flying at me, so the obvious stuff kinda slipped under the rug. “You were with my family for five years, right?”

  My left field question caught Jens off-guard. “Yeah.” He handed me to Jamie, who lowered me down the other side of the felled tree.

  “You were there when I ran out the lease on our last apartment?” I asked as the three of us trudged between the mangled trees.

  His answer was hesitant this time. “Yeah.”

  That was a blow. “Like, keeping watch from outside?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “And sometimes you were… You saw… You saw?”

  “I wasn’t planning on bringing it up if you weren’t, but yeah. I’m the one who told Alrik and made him cross over and get you.”

  I straightened and forged onward through the trees and underbrush, wishing I had the ability to turn invisible and run away. “Gotcha. We almost there?”

  Jens walked on my other side with obvious concern. “Don’t be like that.”

  “Be like what? How am I supposed to be? No one was supposed to see that. It’s private.”

  “It’s my job!”

  “Yep.” I tried to outpace him, but his legs were far longer than mine. As my steps quickened, so did his. I was a wash of angry and humiliated, so I did the only logical thing I knew of. The method taught me by my parents from childhood. Rule #4: When you want out, run. So I picked up my skirts and bolted forward in the direction I was pretty sure we were supposed to go. I was livid when Jens ran with me. “Let me go!”

  “You know I can’t do that! Just calm down.”

  I ran faster, and Jamie trotted behind us. We reached the place where Uncle Rick had left horses tied up for us. They were brown, big and beautiful, but I couldn’t appreciate them at the moment. I wished I was a cowboy, so I could hoist myself up and ride away as fast as I could to escape the man who’d seen me at my worst.

  “Lucy, I’ve never told anyone but Alrik what you almost did. If it helps, the weekend he came and stayed with you in your new place, I wasn’t there.”

  I tried to climb up on the horse, but there was no saddle and thus no stirrups to step into. As with the rest of Undraland, everything was a foot taller than normal, including the horses. Plus, I was in a heavy dress, not chaps or jeans or whatever John Wayne wore.

  When Jens put his hands on my waist to lift me, I whirled on him. “Don’t you touch me!” I tried three more times, growing angrier as hot tears threatened to appear and give me away. When I realized there was no way I could get up there on my own, I nearly screamed in childish frustration. “I’ll walk.”

  “Get back here. Come on, Loos. You have no idea where we’re going or how many miles it is. You can’t walk there.”

  I did not respond. I knew if I spoke, it would either be juvenile or reveal too much hurt. I’d already unwittingly shown enough emotion in front of him.

  “Miss Lucy, may I escort you?” Jamie asked, grasping at a way to be helpful.

  I slowed my escape and turned. “Is it really miles to the tavern we’re meeting the others at?”

  “Even on the horses, we won’t make it there until nightfall.”

  “Are you telling me the truth?” I questioned. “You’re not just being the wingman?”

  Jamie held up one hand in promise and placed the other over his heart. “I assure you, I have no wings.”

  I nodded and went back to the horse, hating that I needed help to get on. Jamie lifted me and placed me atop one. I wasn’t really sure if I was supposed to ride sidesaddle, but it didn’t seem very safe without an actual saddle. I positioned myself the way John Wayne would have, not Princess Buttercup, despite my current wardrobe.

  Three people, two horses. When Jens looked like he was about to slide on the horse behind me, I growled at him, barked like a dog and gave him my best don’t-you-dare stare.

  “Would you do me the honor of riding with me, Miss Lucy?” Jamie asked graciously, trying to avoid another fight between Jens and me. Wingman, indeed.

  Jens gave me a hard look before he backed off. “Making sure you’re safe doesn’t just mean protecting you from Weres. It also means that sometimes I have to protect you from yourself. You have no right to be mad at me for seeing what I saw and calling Alrik.”

  Deep, deep down, I knew I shouldn’t be this mad at him. Right after everyone in my life died, I went home from the crematorium to an empty apartment. I locked myself inside for weeks until the rent ran out. The last few days I was there, I had a Mexican standoff with the largest kitchen knife we owned, a bottle of pills and vodka, and a rope I’d gone so far as to hang in the doorway of my parents’ bedroom. For days I stared down the pills. I’d dump them on the floor, count them out and give each one a reason why I shouldn’t kill myself.

  Pill one: My family would be pissed if they were alive to see this.

  Pill two: It would be the fourth death Uncle Rick would have to suffer inside a month. Probably not nice to do that to him.

  Pill three: I didn’t want to die without seeing the Polyphonic Spree in concert. That just seemed like a complete waste of a life.

  Pill four was where I always drew a blank. Three reasons to live were all I could muster. It had been enough in the end, but only just. There were several days that I’d come very close to ending it all. There were more reasons to die than to survive.

  Then Uncle Rick came. He took me out to dinner. It was the first meal I’d had in who knows how long, and when we got back, all my belongings had been moved to a one-bedroom apartment in a new town. He’d put down first and last month’s rent, set me up with the job bagging and checking at the grocery store, enrolled me in community college, kissed my cheeks and left. I was alone until Tonya and Danny moved in.

  None of that was for Jens to see. It was private, and part of me that was supposed to be only mine. Job or not, no one wants to be seen as an emaciated suicidal mess crying on the floor of an empty apartment with no one who cared enough to pick her up, or even visit.