“So, we will be able to leave tomorrow?” asked Miss Lusk.
“Tomorrow evening,” said Miss Dechantagne. “Our restocking has generally been a success, but I wanted to acquire some seeds of the local plants and some saplings of the fruit trees. These will be arriving, hopefully, in the morning.”
“To a successful voyage!” said Augie, raising his glass in a toast.
“To a successful voyage,” repeated most everyone at the table.
“I don’t feel good,” said Senta.
“Too much wine?” asked Mrs. Marjoram, pointedly.
“I think I’m going to overflow.”
“Not in here,” said Miss Dechantagne, sternly.
“Why don’t you go up on deck and get some air, Pet,” said Zurfina.
Senta got up from her chair and found that her legs were decidedly wobbly, her vision was wiggly, and the two helpings of trifle in her stomach were not getting along with the toad-in-the-hole. She started for the door, but found her feet making an inexplicable turn toward the wall. One of the waiters took her by the shoulders and guided her back on track, opened the door for her, and closed it once she was in the outside corridor. It was a short trip from Miss Dechantagne’s cabin to the main deck, which was a good thing; because Senta didn’t think she could have made it much further. She grabbed hold of the railing and walked twenty or thirty steps until she came to the steel dragon, still in his animal carrier box. She sat down on top of it, and scooted down so that she could lie back across it. She closed her eyes on the bright myriad of stars looking down upon her.
She didn’t know how long she lay there, but eventually she had the feeling that someone else was there with her. She opened her eyes to see a pasty-faced man with a very round face and horn-rimmed glasses looking down at her. His hair was slicked down and oily looking and he had a pinched expression on his face that made his mouth look unnaturally small. She looked at him for several moments and he looked back and blinked several times.
“Hello,” said Senta.
“Hello,” he replied. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t know.”
The man smiled without showing his teeth. His smile reached from his chin to the middle of his nose. His eyes, magnified by glasses, stayed the same. He had no facial hair or sideburns, but he had several small cuts on his face as if he had injured himself while shaving. His suit was charcoal colored, and slightly shabby; something that Senta wouldn’t have noticed a few weeks before.
“Do you want to try getting up?” he asked.
“All right.”
Senta sat up and immediately threw up at the man’s feet. Most of the vomit splattered across the wooden deck, though a bit of it ended up on his shoes and pants cuffs.
“Gawp,” said the dragon within his carrier.
The man’s mouth twitched to one side, but all he said was, “Feeling better?”
Senta nodded.
“Good,” he said. “We should get you somewhere where you can get washed up. Do you know how to get to your cabin from here?”
“No.”
“Then, I’ll take you to my cabin.”
“Um, I don’t know.”
“You wouldn’t want anyone to see you with vomit all over your shoes, would you?”
Senta looked down and, sure enough, she had gotten vomit on her own shoes too. The man took her by the hand and pulled her to her feet. She was still pretty wobbly. He began to walk slowly along the deck, pulling her along with him.
“Gawp,” said the dragon, louder.
They went in the doorway just behind the one through which Senta had exited, and walked down the corridor. Senta started to feel a little better. At the end of the hallway, a set of narrow steps led down to the lower deck. Senta didn’t really want to go down, but the pasty-faced man had her hand firmly in his.
“Senta!”
Senta and the man both turned to see Miss Lusk walking down the hallway toward them. Though she was the shortest of the women that had been at the dinner party that evening, Miss Lusk was almost the exact same height as the oily-haired man. Her hat, which was a large straw affair covered in pink chiffon with a flower accent, made her seem a bit taller than him.
“Where are you going, Senta?” asked Miss Lusk.
“We were just going to get her cleaned up,” said the man. “The poor thing got sick on deck and lost her dinner.”
“Good evening, Mr. Murty,”
“Good evening, Miss Lusk.”
“It was very kind of you to help out with a sick child.”
“Oh, it was nothing,” he replied. They stood looking at each other for a very long moment. Senta looked from one to the other.
“Well, we’ll go on and get the child cleaned up,” said Mr. Murty.
“I think I should take it from here.”
“Oh?”
“I’m sure it wouldn’t be appropriate for you to take the child below.”
“Wouldn’t be appropriate?” he asked. “Why not?”
“Taking care of children isn’t a man’s job.” Miss Lusk took Senta’s other hand and pulled until the child had both arms stretched out in either direction.
“I really don’t mind. I love children,” said Mr. Murty.
“You’ll make quite a father one day, I’m sure.”
“Let me take her.”
“I’ll take care of her,” said Miss Lusk. “I am a woman.”
“Yes, I keep forgetting,” said Mr. Murty, letting go of Senta’s hand. “Um, what with your, um, mathematics skills and all.”
“Good night, Mr. Murty!” Miss Lusk hurried down the hall with the girl in tow.
Miss Lusk led Senta forward and then down a different set of narrow stairs. They went quickly down three flights and then up the corridor a short ways to a door, which Miss Lusk unlocked and entered, pulling the girl in after her. It was a small room, only half the size of that in which Senta and Zurfina stayed. It held a single chair and a single bed. The redheaded woman set Senta on the mattress and had her lie back.
“Didn’t your mother tell you not to talk to strangers?” she asked.
“No.”
“Well, she should have. Somebody should have.” Miss Lusk bit her lip. “You are an orphan, aren’t you?”
Senta nodded.
“Zurfina should be watching out for you. And stay away from Mr. Murty. Do you understand? Mr. Murty is not a good man.”
Senta nodded in acknowledgement, but she was only half aware of what Miss Lusk was saying. As she lay on the bed, she felt the awareness inexorably leaving her body and a few moments later, she passed into dreamless sleep. When consciousness returned to her, it wasn’t as if she crossed a barrier between the sleeping and the waking world. She was just suddenly awake. The room was completely dark. She stood up and felt around, finding something leaning against the foot of the bed. It was a parasol.
“Uuthanum,” said Senta, touching the parasol with her index finger.
The handle of the parasol began to glow with magic, as bright as a gas-powered lamp. The slightly blue tinted light illuminated every corner of the tiny room. Senta realized that one of her shoes had fallen off, and she picked it up off the bed and slipped it back on her foot. Miss Lusk now asleep in her nightclothes was curled up in the only chair. Her pretty red hair was brushed smooth and hung loosely over her shoulders. Senta reached out and opened the cabin door just as the magic light faded out.
The hallway was illuminated from the far end by morning light streaming in a pair of portholes. Senta walked towards the staircase that led up to the deck. She had passed only two other cabins when the door right beside her opened and a man backed out into the hallway. He carefully and quietly closed the door after him. When he turned it around, Senta realized that it was Augustus Dechantagne.
“Oh, hello,” he said, when he saw the girl.
“Hello.”
“Are you feeling better this morning?”
Senta nodded.
�
�Good. May I be your escort up to breakfast?” He held out his arm for her, and she took it, feeling silly, but at the same time all grown up.
The door through which Augie had exited opened and a blond woman, whom Senta could see was completely naked, stuck her shoulder out.
“Lieutenant Dechantagne, you forgot your hat,” she said. A supple arm snaked out and held a khaki slouch hat.
“Oh, thank you, Miss Kilmurray, or as the lizzies in Birmisia say ‘Ssisthusso’” said Augie, taking the hat. “I um, hope we have another chance to discuss botany.”
Senta was not particularly worldly, having spent most of her life with her Granny, rather than living as many children did, in relatively confined spaces with parents who were openly affectionate. On the other hand, she had been living for several weeks with Zurfina, who was noted more for her indiscretions than her discretion. Senta knew that it was not necessary to be completely naked to study botany, even though she was not sure exactly what botany was. Miss Kilmurray closed the door though, ending such supposition, and Senta went arm in arm with Augie, as he had asked to be called, up to the rear deck of the ship, where breakfast was being served.
“I’ve been searching for you everywhere, Pet,” said Zurfina, meeting them beside the railing near the serving tables. “Imagine my exasperation at finding you in such disreputable company.”
“I beg your pardon,” said Augie.
“If you insist.”
Senta left both Augie and Zurfina who, despite having apparently been searching for her, didn’t seem to have anything urgent to say. For some reason she felt enormously hungry, so she stepped into the queue for breakfast. The meal was porridge with brown sugar and soldiers, slices of toast cut into thirds. The line moved quickly and Senta was able to grab her breakfast and step off to a relatively quiet corner of the deck. She sat down cross-legged and watched the other people.
Zurfina was still talking with Augie. Mr. Korlann was ordering people here and there to make sure that all of the people on deck were fed in a timely manner. Mrs. Marjoram was eating her breakfast with a large group of other women. And Dr. Kelloran was on deck as well, not eating at all, apparently looking for something or someone. After a moment, she interrupted Augie’s conversation to ask him something, which made Zurfina scowl. She didn’t stay though, and as soon as she left the Lieutenant’s attention was wholly back on the sorceress.
“Hullo.”
A boy had walked right up to Senta and stood in front of her while she had been busy watching the others on deck. Senta knew that there were other children on board. In fact she had seen many of them here and there around the ship, usually with their mothers, but she had not interacted with any of them. She was usually with Zurfina or the tiny steel dragon, both of which mothers tended to keep their children away from. This boy was about Senta’s own age. He had short-cropped brown hair and freckles. He wore pants that had probably fit him perfectly when he was three inches shorter and a slightly tight shirt with tan and white horizontal stripes. He was showing off his very large teeth in a broad smile.
“Hello.”
“What’s your name?”
“Senta Bly. What’s yours?”
“Graham. Graham Dokkins. I know where there’s a crab.”
“Is it alive?”
“No.”
Senta looked over at Zurfina, who was still talking with Augie.
“Let’s go have a look.” She said.
Chapter Ten: Yuah and Pantagria
The large field of purple flowers stretched in any direction as far as the eye could see. The one-foot tall flowers, each with five petals danced back and forth, enjoying the sunlight streaming down from above. In unison, they blinked the very human looking eye that was located in the center of each flower. Amid this endless field of purple flowers was a large flat rock, roughly disc shaped about ten feet in diameter. Lying on the rock, on a red blanket was Terrence Dechantagne. His nude body exulted, as did the flowers, in the warm rays of the sun.
“Are you happy?” asked a voice from above.
Pantagria floated down from the sky, her huge, feathered wings outstretched. They were twelve feet from tip to tip and as white as the clouds, as white as newly fallen snow, as white as faith and hope. The rest of her body was smooth and supple and sublime and beautiful and completely naked. Her feet came gently to rest beside Terrence and he gazed up at her lovely face and that perfect body. Her long blond hair cascaded down her shoulders, impossibly thick, almost to her waist. Her eyes were spaced wide above her prominent cheekbones and small but perfectly formed nose. Her full lips smiled crookedly exposing straight teeth as white as her wings.
It had been years ago that he had first met Pantagria. She had been as different as he had been. A beautiful child, an impossibly beautiful child with great white wings and cascading golden curls; she had been waiting for him in her little cottage. The little cottage had been there in the unearthly field of unearthly flowers in whatever unreal world the mind retreated to when milky magic was applied to young eyes. And Terrence had retreated there, with his boy’s body and old man’s soul, and Pantagria had welcomed him, and had enfolded his body in her own body which then had been only a bud and not the brilliant rose that it would later become.
“I am so glad to meet you,” she had said. “I have been waiting just for you.”
He had only sobbed into her shoulder.
“Tell me everything,” she had said.
“He shot her! He shot her right there!”
“Why? Why did he shoot her?”
“He found her. He found her with Mudgett.” He had broken into sobs again and she had pulled him tight against her.
“There, there,” she had said. Her large white wings had flexed out and folded back again.
“He shot them both.”
“Are they both dead?”
“Mudgett got away. He tried to shoot him, but he got away. Then he shot her again. And she’s dead.”
“But you’re all right. You’ll be all right.”
“How can I be all right?” he had wailed. “I don’t have a mother!”
“You won’t need a mother,” Pantagria had said. “You won’t need anything else but me. And I’ll always be yours.”
“Are you happy?” the fully-grown Pantagria asked again. Her wings folded behind her and she sat down beside Terrence.
“How could I not be?”
“You could have the sudden, stark, and horrifying realization that none of this is real.”
“I already know that none of this is real.”
“Do you?” she asked, stroking his cheek.
“Of course.”
“How about me?” Pantagria kissed him lightly on the lips.
“Oh, you’re not real either.” He sighed
She stuck out her lower lip, pouting. He laughed.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I love you more because you’re not real.”
“How can that be?”
“You are unequalled. Nobody in the real world is unequalled. Everyone has a flaw.”
“I thought it was the flaws that made you unique. Isn’t slightly flawed and real better than perfect but unreal?”
“No,” he said. “Everyone has a flaw. Everything has a flaw.”
“Can’t something be good without being perfect?”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “You’re going to make me wake up and I don’t want to waste a full dose.”
“Too late,” she said, as the world started to drain of its color around him.
That world faded away. Pantagria faded away. The rock and the endless field of purple flowers faded away. Terrence was once again lying on his bed in his cabin aboard the H.M.S. Minotaur. Someone was knocking at the door. He sat up and looked at the door but didn’t get up to open it. The person on the outside pounded on the door, changing from knuckles to the ball of the fist. Terrence just sat. Whoever it was finally went away.
Picking up the tiny blue bottle on the nightstand, he held it up to the light and gauged how much of the milky liquid remained. The bottle was almost completely empty. He had been rubbing the potion onto his eyes continuously and had almost used it up. He would have to go get another bottle from Oyunbileg. He couldn’t quit just yet. He just needed Pantagria a little bit longer. Maybe he would buy two bottles. Money was no problem. Maybe seven bottles: he probably wouldn’t be able to find any more in Mallon. Maybe one really big bottle. The ship suddenly rolled with a wave, and he had to steady himself with a hand on the nightstand, knocking over a drinking glass as he did so.
“Bugger!” he cried. Shoving the blue bottle under his bed pillow, he jumped up and ran out the door, down the corridor and out onto the deck. The ship was at sea. There was not a speck of land anywhere on the horizon.
“Bugger all!” he shouted.
A couple of female passengers stopped in their tracks and stared at him. He thought for a moment that they might be offended by his language, but then realized that they were probably staring because he was completely nude. He quickly went back to his cabin and closed the door. He punched the cabin wall with his fist and grimaced in pain. He wanted to throw something and break it, but it seemed that the only thing breakable in the cabin was the small blue bottle under the pillow, and now it was the only one he was going to have. Someone knocked on the door again.
“Sod off!” he bellowed.
The door opened and Yuah Korlann, his sister’s dressing maid stuck her head inside the room.
“Kafira’s fanny. You look like crap,” she said.
He grabbed a towel and threw it around his waist and then stepped over to look in the hanging mirror on the cabin wall. He did look like crap. He looked thin and pale and weak. His cheeks were sunken and his face was pasty white. Most grim of all were his eyes. The whites of his eyes no longer deserved that name. They were beyond bloodshot. The blood vessels had completely ruptured and every bit of surface outside of his irises was solid, uninterrupted red. He felt unsteady. His knees wobbled slightly.
“What day is it?”
“It’s exactly one week since anyone on the ship has seen you. That’s what day it is. Have you eaten anything in the last week? Have you had a drink, and I mean of water?”
The Voyage of the Minotaur Page 14
