Land of Verne

by David H. Burton

  Harland. Poppa’s Manor.

  His mouth dropped open and Rudy stepped forward. “Rudy of House Doyle,” she said. “This is my brother Grim.”

  “Doyle?” he said. “I do not recognize the name. Not that it matters.” He looked Grim up and down as if assessing whether he was worthy of his time or not. “You’re orphans.”

  He looked at Treena. “And you are?”

  Treena cowered and whispered meekly. “TreenaofHouseOctavius.”

  It took the prince a moment to catch Treena’s swift words.

  “Octavius?!” he exclaimed. He paced back and forth. “Octavius?!” He shook his head as if it were impossible to believe. “The Resistance!” His face reddened like an overripe tomato, and he clicked something on his walking stick. A sharp spear protruded through the end. He flicked it up, barely missing Quinn’s face. “I wonder what my father would say if he knew what sort of company you are keeping!” He spat as he spoke and Quinn wiped his face with a kerchief.

  Then Festrel turned on his heel and marched away, leaving knife prints in the wooden floors.

  The group headed outside to clean the grounds, and Grim wanted desperately to ask questions, but he was afraid he might let loose his identity to Quinn. He’d slipped up far too often.

  “So, he’s the heir to Harland Manor,” Grim said, hands in his pockets, trying to look as casual as he could. Rudy rolled her eyes.

  He frowned at her before continuing. “Who’s his father?”

  Quinn still shook from the encounter. He kept adjusting his cap and vest.

  “How can you not know these things!” he snapped. “Surely you’ve heard of Lord Victor in the Southlands. He is the wealthiest magistrate in the north.”

  Rudy butted in. “Is he new to the Manor?” she asked. “I don’t recall that name.”

  Quinn exhaled his exasperation at their complete lack of knowledge. “Where are you from? Honestly! He’s been Lord of Harland Manor for years!”

  They all said nothing and waited for him. “Ugh, yes, there was someone prior, but he never produced a legitimate heir. According to custom, Victor is the rightful heir to the Manor. He was the only one who bore a son.”

  Two things twisted in Grim’s head at those words. First was the sorrow for Poppa’s loss of the Manor because he didn’t have a child by birth. It was entwined with the second, the sickening realization that Festrel was his cousin.

  The same anger and revulsion smoldered in Rudy’s eyes.

  “A son?” she asked, putting on her best fake smile.

  Quinn examined his fingernails and settled himself on a bench while the others swept the grounds.

  “Well, of course. Boys are taught how to manage the affairs of the Manor. Women are taught to look beautiful and throw fabulous dinner parties.”

  “You must be joking,” Grim said.

  The look on Quinn’s face was serious. “No joke.”

  “Girls are just as capable as boys,” said Treena with Rudy nodding her head in vigorous agreement. “I once knew a Gunslinger that no man could beat. And she was a woman.”

  “Interesting.” He examined his fingernails again. “I don’t expect you to understand these things. Remember, my father is a Lord. I know better.”

  “You think you’re smarter because you’re father’s a Lord?” Treena asked. Her hair now stood so tall it looked like it was about to shoot off her head.

  “Well, actually you said it. Not me. But now that you bring it up, I can’t argue with you.” He coughed.

  Treena’s face was fuming red and the vein in her neck pulsed. It was a good thing she wasn’t a Sylph, because it appeared like she was about to go Banshee at any moment. Fortunately, their attention was diverted when Sam and Ellen strode up to them with Toby. The twins were behind them, trying to follow them in secret.

  At the site of Quinn, the dog promptly jumped on him and licked him.

  “Ugh! Get that beast off me!” he screamed, and wiped his face.

  Ellen reached down and placed something on the ground. It was Scarlet. The creature skittered towards them and crawled up Grim’s leg. It settled on his shoulder and he stroked it. She purred.

  Quinn looked mortified. “What is that?”

  Grim grinned at him. “This is Scarlet.” He paused at the look on Quinn’s face.

  Perfect.

  “Want to hold her?” he asked with her perched on his extended hand. He’d have to keep her in their room now.

  “That little beast?! Filth!”

  Scarlet’s pincers were squeaking at the boy. Grim stroked her until she started purring again and then placed her back on his shoulder.

  Sam and Ellen didn’t look happy.

  “What’s wrong?” Grim asked.

  “Festrel,” Sam said. He puckered his lips and stuck out his tongue.

  Grim laughed. “I see you met him.”

  The twins stepped out from behind the tree. Barny put up one finger like he had an interesting fact to tell. “He’s our cous —”

  “Jinn!” yelled Rudy, pointing in the distance.

  A wooden painting of a man summoning an evil-looking Jinn was being carried across the grounds.

  Quinn just looked at her like she was crazy. “Are you trying to cause a panic?”

  She smiled sheepishly and then gave a severe scowl to the twins and motioned for them to be quiet.

  Sam smiled. “We have to go now.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Grim said hastily.

  Quinn looked at the dog and then at Scarlet. “I think I’ll stay here,” he said and returned to grooming his fingernails.

  And before the twins could do any more damage, Rudy and Grim grabbed each by an arm and escorted them away.

  Later in the evening, Grim made his way back from cleaning laundry; and it was a dirty lot. Someone thought it might be hilarious to take the bed sheets and throw them out the window and into the gutters. He suspected Gorkin, but he had no way to prove it.

  After washing until his fingers were like prunes, Grim didn’t think it was that funny at all. And if he got his raw, tender hands on the fool that came up with such an idea, he would throttle them ― as soon as his fingers had feeling.

  He massaged his aching hands, and walked back towards his room when a loud ruckus caught his attention. A thunderous voice echoed down the corridor and there was no mistaking to whom it belonged. Without thinking, Grim dashed towards the Hearth Room to find Rudy facing Eevenellin, hands on her hips.

  “You took it! I know you took it! Give it back!” yelled Rudy, shaking her fist at her.

  An evil glint appeared in Eevenellin’s eyes. “Prove it.”

  Rudy turned red, redder than Grim had ever seen her. And she was tugging so hard on her pigtails Grim thought she’d yank them right off. He couldn’t let this continue, but before he could say anything Valeria stepped into the room.

  “What is going on here?” she asked, looking them over.

  Rudy pointed. “I found her―”

  Valeria raised her hand in a gesture of silence. “Eevenellin, what happened?”

  The Grundel eyed Rudy for a moment, but her one beady eye showed no sign of what she was thinking. She coughed.

  “Nothing,” she replied with a voice of honey and sweetness.

  Valeria pointed down the hallway. “I want to see you in my room. Now. We will discuss your penance in private.”

  Eevenellin lowered her head and nodded, still coughing.

  “But,” Rudy said, “I found―”

  “I don’t want to hear it,” said Valeria. “It’s not the first time I’ve found her instigating a quarrel with others. She has a difficult personality and it seems a long talk is overdue. I will handle the situation and I suggest you forget about it. She will be dealt with appropriately.”

  “Rudy, maybe we should go for a walk,” Grim said, grabbing her by the arm. “I think you might need some air.”

  Rudy said nothing and let Grim drag her out of the room, but stare
d back at the Grundel. When they reached the bottom of the staircase, they ran into Treena. She took one look at Rudy’s face and gasped.

  “What’s going on?” Treena asked.

  Grim shook his head. “I don’t know, but she needs to get outside. Come on.”

  Treena followed as they marched across the grounds. The ravens bounced out of their path in a hurry as they followed Rudy.

  “Rudy, what happened?” asked Treena as they settled on a stone bench.

  Rudy took a deep breath. “My chore this afternoon was housekeeping. I was told to dust off the shelves of the old storage room all week. It’s a restricted area. When I finished cleaning off the shelves on the one side I stepped outside to get a breath of fresh air, but I forgot to lock the door. When I came back, I saw that wretched Grundel running down the hallway and it looked like she was hiding something. I ran into the room and noticed one of the bottles I just cleaned was missing. It was a blue one. Anyway, I finished what I had to do and went straight back to the rooms. She denied taking anything, but she’s lying!”

  Grim pondered a moment. “So she took something, but you’re not sure what. Did you see the label?”

  Grim regretted asking it the moment the question fell from his lips.

  Rudy hung her head and resorted to yanking one of her pigtails. “You know I can’t read well.”

  Treena just looked at Rudy, not understanding.

  “Dyslexia,” Rudy said.

  Again, Treena continued to stare at Rudy, perplexed.

  Grim came up with the only explanation he could think of. “She reads the letters backwards.”

  “Oh,” Treena said. “You’re a mirror reader. So is my father!”

  The pain on Rudy’s face lightened.

  Grim breathed a sigh of relief. It had always been a sore point for Rudy, and something she struggled to overcome.

  “I’m sure we could ask Master Galan what the bottle was,” he said.

  Rudy looked horrified. “It would be my word against hers. Besides, Master Galan probably hasn’t been here long enough to have gone through the old storage room. From what I could see, no one could have been in there in for years. It was coated in dust. I’ll be in there all week.”

  “We have to tell someone,” Grim said.

  Rudy frowned. “Who are we going to tell? Madam Malkim? There’s no proof. And what’s in that room is locked tight. If we say nothing, no one will notice it’s gone. We’ll just have to keep an eye on the Grundel and see what she’s up to. When we know where she’s got it, we’ll take it back.”

  Grim hesitated. “Why did they let you clean that room if it’s that important?”

  Rudy rolled her eyes. “Aunt Patrice recommended me for the job. She said she would be personally responsible should anything happen. If she hears about this…”

  Grim nodded. He knew all too well.

  “All right,” he muttered, “but we have to get it back before anyone finds out.”

  “Agreed,” the others said in unison and Rudy looked as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She finally let go of her hair.

  In the distance, Grim noticed the second moon rising, full and golden in the night sky.

  “We need to get back. It’s after second moonrise,” he said.

  A howl echoed through the city streets. Whatever it was, it sounded a little too close for any of their liking and the three of them dashed back to into Madam Malkim’s Home for Destitute and Wayward Children.

  “Flawless!” cried a haggard-looking Madam Adelaide.

  Grim smiled at his success. He had fired a grappling hook up the tower where it fastened itself. He gave a yank and it held.

  Sadly, the others had not had much success, especially Treena. Hers fired off and smashed one of the windows to the Academy, nearly beheading Master Galan. She trembled under the Tutor’s iron gaze and tripped backwards, grunting as she struck the ground. She cowered until the towering woman moved on to the next in line.

  Madam Adelaide examined her fingernails. “Your turn,” she said to Rudy.

  Rudy fired off her blaster and it barely flew past the first window.

  “Not much better,” the Tutor muttered.

  Treena struggled to get up from the ground, and when she did, her hand was dripping from a sticky red substance. Bright red, it sparkled in the sun.

  Madam Adelaide grabbed her hand. “That’s Jinn blood, and it still sparkles. It’s fresh!”

  “Is it my turn now?” Quinn asked, not noticing what was on Treena’s outstretched palm. His voice was low and hoarse and he had bags under his eyes like purple drapes. He’d been up most of the night coughing and pacing in the room.

  Madam Adelaide rolled her eyes. “Fine, go ahead.”

  Quinn’s shot barley made it over his head.

  “How was that?” he asked and yawned.

  The woman waved him off. “As expected,” she muttered and turned to Treena once more. “Where did you find this, girl?”

  Treena pointed. “On the ground.”

  The Tutor eyed her with suspicion.

  “Everyone inside,” she said. “I need to show this to Master Galan.”

  She ushered them in and Grim paused to look back.

  Two things caught his attention. A bird roosting on the edge of a window across the street. It was red and white with one mechanical eye, and a serrated beak. Below it was a hooded man. He backed into the alley as Grim tried to get a better look. Then the red bird fluttered its wings and flew away. And the man was gone.

  In the week that followed, an increasingly somber mood resonated throughout Madam Malkim’s. Rumors spread about Jinns in the city. Grim didn’t know what or who to believe and just nodded indiscriminately to all of the gossip and rumors that followed.

  Madam Malkim called the attention of students and orphans alike in the Hall.

  “There has been an event of some concern,” she said. “On three separate occasions a Jinn has been seen in the city streets, each time it was close to the Academy.”

  There was near panic among the students, and hushed comments among the orphans about Gargoyles. Some of the orphans looked suspiciously towards them.

  Grim leaned over the table to whisper. “Why is everyone staring at Dorian’s table?”

  Quinn appeared stunned. “Don’t you know?”

  “No.” He didn’t like where this was going.

  “Gargoyles live in the Shadowlands. No one trusts them. And they experiment with things that are unnatural. It’s been said they are trying to find a way to revive the Jinns, just like the Darksworn.”

  Madam Malkim continued. “I recommend caution and traveling in groups until the City can rid us of this menace. When there is more information to be revealed I will call another meeting. That is all.” With that Madam Malkim strode from the Hall.

  Almost the whole room looked over again at the cluster of Gargoyles that sat off to the side.

  Rudy pointed towards Sam, Ellen and the twins. They stood with the Gargoyles. “You think they’re safe with Dorian?”

  He hesitated for a moment. “I think so.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Later in the day, Grim stood with Treena and Rudy outside the Academy. They waited on Quinn, who marched across the grounds from the sewers. His pants were completely disheveled and he scowled as if he had just drank Orlanda Kennelworth’s BitterRhynde Tea.

  Master Galan stepped from the building, purple stains dappling his robes.

  “Good afternoon,” he greeted them. He eyed Quinn. “What happened to you?”

  “Sewer duty. The junction at Bagshot Alley was plugged,” he muttered.

  Treena and Rudy snickered. Grim covered his mouth to stifle a chuckle as he pictured Quinn ankle deep in sewage.

  “You’ll get your turn,” he growled.

  The smiles melted from their faces.

  “Let’s get started then,” Master Galan said, and led them into the side door of his Alchemy Lab. It
was crammed with bottles and books piled almost to the ceiling. Inside were shelves of vials: fluorescent yellow, sky blue, blood red, glowing white, pitch black, and everything in between. The room was so overfilled there was barely room to stand.

  Master Galan stood at the front, shuffling a stack of torn papers in front of him.

  Grim let Scarlet go and she clambered over to Master Galan’s desk, studying the various elixirs and powders. She put a feeler into the different vials as if tasting them and Master Galan seemed almost afraid to stop her, watching her nervously. She was tasting a purple one when Grim called over. “Scarlet! Stop that!”

  The spider creature twitched its little mandibles at him angrily.

  “Bad!” he said.

  Then she lowered her head and went to looking at ripped pages and books.

  “Sorry about that,” Grim said. “She’s quite curious.”

  Master Galan, seemingly relieved, nodded his head. “That’s all right. We all get a spell of curiosity. Now,” he said. “I need these vials cleaned and refilled. You can dispose of old liquids in that basin over there,” he said, pointing towards a wooden vat.

  “What’s this?” Rudy asked, and held up a flask of yellow liquid.

  “That is essence of buttercup. It’s used to help with a bad cough. Put that on the shelf next to you. I may still have need of that,” he said, looking at Quinn.

  “What about this?” Treena asked as she polished a vial of dull green sludge that undulated under the surface of the glass. It looked like it was alive.

  “That,” he said, “is Poison Slime. It’s a rather fickle substance and it’s difficult to predict what it will do. And before anyone else asks, Quinn, that is blue ivy juice, and Grim you are holding oak root powder. I’ll need you to mix all three of those to brew a healing salve that cures Gunslinger’s Wart. Each of you should take a bowl and one vial of each. I know it’s a little tight in here, but try to find space on one of the tables. And please be careful when adding the oak root powder. You must add the ingredients slowly.”

  The chore proceeded with ease, Grim following Master Galan’s instructions with care. He was glad to do something other than cleaning spittle bowls and crappers, although Quinn scrutinized Grim’s every move. It made him feel self-conscious, and he neglected to pay attention to the correct proportions. He added a handful of oak root powder into the blue ivy juice instead of just a pinch.