Land of Verne

by David H. Burton

  Rudy smiled back. “Yeah, you kinda suck at it.”

  “I could teach you about pretending to be something you’re not,” Quinn said. “I’m not as stuffy as I appear. I say what others expect of me, so that I’ll look more like a Lord. I’m always trying to fit in with people like Festrel and Gorkin, but around you I can say what I want. You’re so … normal.”

  Grim’s eyebrow raised. That was the first time anyone had referred to his family that way.

  “I must apologize for my behavior,” Quinn continued. “I’ve been horrible. I like you, Grim, noble or not.”

  Grim breathed a sigh of relief.

  “And now that we’re revealing truths,” Quinn said, “there’s something I would like to share with you. My father was not killed by accident. He was murdered on a hunting trip with Lord Victor. We think he discovered some secret. He paid for it with his life. My mother sent me off to Madam Malkim’s just before she was taken captive, but I was placed with the orphans since we cannot pay for me to attend the Academy. Victor claims that if I go live under his care I will take over our Manor when I am of age. I’m certain I would have an untimely accident instead. So here I shall remain, but I fear for my mother.”

  “Is that why Festrel’s here?” Grim asked.

  “I suspect so, but I have to be nice to him. I don’t want to endanger my mother’s life. I have no proof that my father was murdered, other than the words of his manservant. And he was poisoned the night my father died.”

  Grim nodded. “I’m sorry. You must be even more scared than us.”

  Quinn shrugged. “To be thrown into a completely different world is equally frightening.” Quinn knelt in front of Grim, untied a green scarf from his neck and attempted to wrap it around Grim’s scraped hand.

  Grim tried to slip his hand away. “That scarf is too nice for this.”

  Quinn forced the scarf around the wound. “It’s the least I can do, considering my behavior.”

  “I’ll clean it and get it back to you.”

  Quinn shook his head. “Keep it. It’s a gift.”

  A knock at the door made the three of them jump.

  “Come in,” they all chimed, and Treena strode in.

  “By the Ancestors,” she muttered, looking at Quinn kneeling on the floor.

  “It’s all right,” Grim said, “come in and close the door. We have something to tell you.”

  The foursome spent the next three days avoiding Valeria Bellow. Word was out that she had an argument not only with Eevenellin, but also Ninnipence, and even Dorian. And all three times she almost went Banshee. It forced Grim to check the halls before he left his room. The last thing he needed was to run into Valeria on a bad day.

  Fortunately, this particular day Valeria seemed in a rather pleasant mood. It was a city holiday, even for the orphans. And they all decided to make a joint trip to the local emporium.

  Good cheer ran rampant through the city streets as most of the city dwellers also made their way to the lower side of the city. And it was a chance for the orphans to finally spend some hard-earned money. Grim couldn’t wait to see what he could buy with the money he collected from his chores. Although goods were quite expensive and orphan labor was cheap.

  He examined the few coins in his hand.

  Very cheap.

  Grim fingered the silver pocket watch and wondered how much he might get if he hocked it. There was a wondrous-looking walking stick with a green stone that drew his attention. According to the merchant it was once used by a Mystic, but what it could do was unknown. Grim went to take the pocket watch out, but noticed Rudy giving him a sidelong glance. And he knew what his Aunt would say if she found out.

  Tucking it back into his vest pocket, he walked away, grumbling to himself that he’d have to save up ten years’ worth of wages if he wanted to buy one.

  At the emporium was a traveling sideshow called Circus Quirkus. It was filled with entertainers and acrobats, jugglers, costumed men and women on stilts, and fire eaters. The first thing Grim thought of was a carnival. There were grand tents arrayed in vibrant colors, some of which reached staggering heights. Eerie music echoed through the square, as if played on some off-key, mechanical orchestra. It was a little macabre, Grim thought.

  Parts of it seemed almost like a traveling freak show. Around the tents moved sinth-based creations, most of which seemed to have no particular form or purpose. They were a menacing mishmash of parts, yet Grim was fascinated nonetheless.

  The four of them strode through the vast array of baked goods, preserves, sinth gadgets, toys, and weapons of every kind. Grim wasn’t sure where to begin, but followed the others.

  He finally splurged on a device from the Southlands that acted like an umbrella. After the days of rain, he thought it would be appropriate. It folded up small enough to easily slip into his pocket, and it also transformed into a grappling hook with the flick of a switch. That was the extent of what his paltry wages could get him.

  The evening brought a fantastical show of exploding fireworks that floated to the ground as candy. Afterwards, they watched a musical performance with characters masked as Darksworn and Jinns that were defeated by men and women wielding the coolest sinth contraptions Grim could imagine.

  The Circus wrapped up with a final show of the Unseen who performed incredible feats of strength and flexibility, accompanied by haunting music. All of it was narrated by a short, rotund man named Sir Gummanel T. Falsus, but everyone called him Ol’ Gummy because he lacked most of his teeth. He dressed in furs and a feathered hat and walked with a knobby stick. He was the jolliest person Grim had ever seen, his face grinning with a huge toothless smile.

  “Good evening, younglings,” he said to the four of them with a bow and a sweep of his arm. They all returned the greeting, Treena offering the most graceful of curtsies. Rudy attempted the same, but it was rather awkward and she nearly fell over in the attempt. She settled for a half-bow, half-curtsy. Grim stifled the snicker that inched its way up his throat.

  Sir Gummanel was flanked by two peculiar creatures, both with stark white skin that appeared as if they wore thick makeup. One had a single black line running down the middle of his face. The other had two lines running across hers, one over her eyes and the other over her mouth. They were both dressed in puffy white pants and frilly shirts, their heads crowned by a pointed white hat with spiraled black markings. They reminded Grim of clowns. Sir Gummanel introduced them as Boboo and Sissimal, respectively.

  Boboo, who spoke only in rhyme, offered Rudy a single rose.

  “A rose for a maiden, so good and so fair,

  All pales to your beauty, so true and so rare,

  I offer this flower, but beware its sharp thorns,

  It will prick you as surely, as a dragon has horns.”

  “Thank you,” she said and attempted to pet the two white ferrets he carried upon his shoulder. When one of them tried to bite her, she quickly withdrew her hand.

  Sissimal, who was a mute, waved her arms in front of Grim, showing him there was nothing in her white-gloved hands. She then pulled a gold coin from behind Grim’s ear and handed it to him.

  He smiled and thanked her. Yet he did not even have a moment to consider how to spend it; its shiny appearance melted into a dull, tarnished lump of metal the instant Sissimal turned around.

  As three large dirigibles flew by and landed outside the city, Ol’ Gummy turned to depart. “Well, I am afraid the night has drawn to an end. Good evening.” He took another bow and left them.

  As they ambled about the streets, Grim heard a faint humming that rose and fell on the air.

  “Do you hear that?” Grim asked.

  Treena tilted her head to listen. “Hear what?”

  “Yeah, hear what?” Rudy asked in her thunderous voice.

  They rounded the corner into an alley where strange glass bulbs were inserted into the ground. The Gargoyles were dancing and howling between them. With wings extended they would turn the bulbs in
to the ground at various intervals, like a light show. It reminded Grim of the light bulb that used to hang in Poppa’s workshop.

  Quinn and Treena appeared ill at ease.

  “What’s wrong?” Grim asked.

  “Gargoyles,” Quinn replied. “They fiddle with dark powers.”

  Sam and Ellen sat, watching as the twins inserted the bulbs into the dirt. Dorian and Valeria stood off to the side, keeping watch.

  “You go ahead without me,” Grim said. “I want to check this out.”

  “Me too,” Rudy said.

  “Fine by me,” Quinn said, and he and Treena hurried back to Madam Malkim’s.

  “Hi,” Grim said as they approached. Ellen and Sam made room for them to sit. Toby climbed onto Grim’s lap.

  “I have something to tell you,” Grim said. He needed to relay Aunt Patrice’s last message to them about Festrel. He’d forgotten to tell them.

  Ellen took his hand and Sam took Rudy’s. “We know,” they said.

  “You know what I was going to tell you?” Grim asked.

  They both nodded. “About Festrel. We know.”

  Rudy looked at Grim, but said nothing.

  Sam giggled, pointing to where the twins had just turned on one of the bulbs and were pretending like they had wings.

  “I want to be a Gargoyle too,” Ellen said.

  And without anything further said, they watched the bulbs flicker on and off well into the dark of the night.

  Grim groaned the next morning. It was back to the sewers again. Not exactly the sweetest prospect after eating scorched porridge, but such was his schedule.

  The students were outdoors making a paltry effort to get physical activity although Madam Adelaide barely had them lifting a ball let alone catching it. He passed by Festrel and caught his whispering to the others.

  “And you know…,” he said in a hushed tone. He was discretely showing them something in his outstretched palm. “There is a band of rebels starting to rise up against my father. If you join us I will ensure that each one is given one of these.”

  Overjoyed looks passed through the throng of hopefuls that surrounded him, except for Sam and Ellen who were busy cleaning off the boots of the nobles. And they had a hard time with it. Sam’s rag was so dirty he kept making Festrel’s boots even muddier.

  Festrel yanked his foot back as he pocketed whatever was in his hand.

  “Can’t you do anything right!” he scolded. “What sort of vermin are they letting into this place?”

  “You’re mean,” Sam said.

  Ellen nodded in agreement, her little eyebrows furrowed.

  Festrel poked Sam in the chest with his bony, white finger. “You had better learn your place, dog. You’re not worth the dirt on my boots.”

  The others that crowded around him snickered, and Grim instinctively huffed himself up. His face flushed red and he marched forward, either bravely or foolishly, knowing full well that his Aunt would kill him for this when she got wind of it.

  He grabbed Festrel by his vest and yanked him away. “Get your hands off him.”

  His grin was like slime. “Well, I can’t seem to avoid you, can I, Grim of House Doyle. I don’t know much about you, but I can tell you this. The moment you step out of Madam Malkim’s, I suggest you run back to your precious Southlands because I will see to it that you will find nothing but misery.”

  Grim turned to Sam and Ellen. “Go!”

  The two scurried through the crowd and Grim shoved Festrel up against the wall.

  “That sounds like a threat.”

  “It’s not a threat, it’s a promise.” He leaned in to hiss in Grim’s ear, “…cousin.”

  Grim sucked in his breath and let Festrel go. He tried to slip through the onlookers, but a hand grabbed him by the shoulder. It was Master Galan.

  “Is this young man disturbing you?” he whispered.

  Festrel glared at him.

  “Not anymore,” Grim said.

  Master Galan nodded as if in understanding. “Perhaps young Lord Festrel and I need to have a little chat. At Madam Malkim’s, the students treat our serv…err, orphans with respect.”

  “He’s no orphan!” yelled Festrel. “He’s just trash that’s hiding here!”

  “Please come with me,” Master Galan said and escorted Festrel away from the others. Grim weaved through the crowd, his anger boiling over and ready to burst. Treena had just come from the sewers. Her boots were still covered in slop.

  She scraped her boot on the ground and looked quizzically at Grim.

  “Are you all right?”

  He marched towards the Academy, leaving Treena to shuffle after him, still scraping her boot.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, hobbling to keep pace.

  “To the Library,” said Grim. “I want to see that book Festrel had.”

  “On Jinns or Changelings?”

  “No. The other one. I just thought of it. There was one called Talismans. I need to know what’s in it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He whispered so the others wouldn’t hear. “He called me cousin. He knows who I am.”

  Treena tottered behind him, struggling to keep up. The two headed into the Library and scoured the rows. Finally on a pristinely dusted shelf they found the book Grim was looking for: Talismans. They headed towards the counter, but Grim tripped and fell at someone’s outstretched foot. It belonged to Ninnipence. Naturally she was not alone. Her brother Jackmeister was right beside her, sharing the same sickening grin. And behind them stood none other than Gorkin of the flaming red hair.

  “In a rush, are we?” Gorkin asked.

  Grim picked himself up from the ground.

  “None of your business,” he muttered.

  “I think it is my business. You see, I need my boots shined,” he said and waved them in front of Grim. They reeked of bad cheese.

  Grim horked up the biggest ball of snot he could manage and was about to let it go on Gorkin’s boot when Madam Tyne strode up behind them.

  “Why are you congregating in my Library? I will not have any funny business in my Library!”

  Grim swallowed the ball of snot.

  Gorkin gave Madam Tyne a look of feigned innocence. “Well, I need my shoes shined and these orphans are not seeing to my needs.”

  Madam Tyne scowled. “Well get on with it then. Shine, boy! Shine! And then get out of my Library! And you,” she said pointing at Treena, “extra chores for you! Just look at my fine floors, sullied by your disgusting feet. Now both of you, shine!”

  Grim and Treena knelt down and polished not only Gorkin’s boots, but the others as well, and that included Madam Tyne. When they finished, hyena-like laughter echoed through the Library as the three nobles departed. Then the two had to clean the floor of Treena’s prints before they were permitted to sign out the book.

  They left as quickly as they could before finding further trouble or chores, eager to learn what Festrel had been looking for.

  Back within the decrepit walls of Madam Malkim’s they found Quinn and Rudy waiting for them in Grim’s room. The boy looked flustered.

  “What happened to you?” Grim asked.

  Quinn swallowed a lump in his throat. “Festrel asked me to return with him to Harland Manor. I refused, and he told me that I will pay for my stubbornness. He said my mother will pay as well.”

  Grim hung his head. Things worsened by the moment and he knew he would have to see Aunt Patrice about this. Alas, the one time he actually wanted his Aunt around, the crotchety old woman wasn’t there. She was still absent with Madam Phoebe. Grim dreaded the lecture that was coming, but he needed his Aunt.

  Quinn lifted his head and tugged on the frills of his cuffs. “So what happened between you and Festrel? After his talk with Master Galan, he was furious.”

  Grim explained his conversation with Festrel and sat down with the book. He flipped through the pages, but was unsure of what to search for. Then he came across a section about myths.


  “Listen to this: Among the stranger myths that abound throughout the Dominions is a tale of an ancient Mystic who came through a portal and could travel to distant lands. The man was known to carry with him a set of colored stones.” Grim flipped through the pages, but found nothing further. “That’s it. There’s nothing in here to indicate how to use the stones.”

  Rudy shrugged. “So what would Festrel be doing with those stones? Is he trying to use them?”

  Grim shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Quinn rose from the bed. “If I were in his shoes, I would want to know as much about you as I could. Maybe he’s here because of you. He arrived shortly after your arrival as well.”

  Rudy was tugging on her hair. “But how would he know we were here at Madam Malkim’s? And that doesn’t explain how he got the stones, or what he’s trying to do with them.”

  Grim pulled the red one out of his pocket. “He won’t get them working when one stone is missing from the set.” He then placed it at the back of his wardrobe.

  “Well someone got them to work once,” Rudy said, “because someone sent those hooded monsters to our house. So who did it, and how?”

  The others had blank looks on their faces.

  Grim felt just as stumped. “Maybe we can ask Master Galan. He might know something.”

  Unfortunately for Grim, the opportunity to ask Master Galan did not present itself for another few weeks. Madam Malkim assigned more and more chores as the Anniversary approached. The grounds needed to be in pristine condition and she left no corner unswept, nor any stone or wooden surface with a trace of mold or dust. Between unloading carts of food in the early morning hours; running errands all over the City of Harkness; washing pots with the ever-so-charming Orlanda Kennelworth; unloading heavy baskets of food; and cleaning the crappers and sewers, there was little time for anything else.

  It was like the woman waited for Grim to round the corner so she could pounce on him with more work. And every time he ran into Madam Adelaide, he received dirty looks — he’d missed a few chores with her because of Madam Malkim’s constant demands. He also kept finding metallic cobwebs in remote corners that were sharp and difficult to remove. Fortunately, Scarlet had taken the hint and stayed out of his sight.