“No—”
“Did you get caught stealing the Warlord’s best hat for a dare?”
“No—”
“Did you lose twenty-five thousand divas at whist?” “No—”
“Well, then, my title remains secure,” Poppy said triumphantly.
I moaned. “It’s worse than all that. Mamma shall kill me if she finds out—”
Udo interrupted, “Look—Flora’s disappearing. We don’t really have time to explain. We came to Bilskinir to get one of the Semiote Verbs—it’s the only thing that will fix her, but Paimon won’t help us.”
“We’ll see about that,” Poppy said grimly. “If Flora is in trouble, Paimon will be helpful, or he’ll be sorry. Paimon!”
“No!” Udo and I yelled together. “He’ll eat us—” “Ha! I’d like to see him try to eat my child! Paimon!” Poppy hollered.
My neck began to prickle. With an audible pop, the air before us whirled into a Vortex, whose diameter grew wider and wider, until Paimon stepped out of the nimbus of blue coldfire.
Udo gave a little shriek, a squeaky little mouselike sound that didn’t sound heroic at all. My own scream didn’t sound particularly heroic, either. But I couldn’t help it.
Paimon had taken off his hat.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Paimon’s Suggestion.
PAIMON’S HAT HAD only hinted at what lay beneath its shadowy brim: a peek of blue mustachio, a twinkle of tusks. But without the hat, the full monstrousness of Paimon was revealed in all its monstrousness. Two great curling horns, as thick as my neck, sprang from a broad blue forehead. Eyebrows as tufty as mice shadowed round blue eyes, whose pupils were narrow and slitty, like a goat’s. Silver spectacles balanced on a leathery black oxlike nose. His jaw, big enough to chomp me up in one bite, supported the enormous tusks that sprang from either side of his enormous mouth, filled with equally enormous white teeth, as large as domino tiles. Long fringy ears, somewhat like a cocker spaniel’s, framed this grotesque face, their prettiness making the rest of Paimon’s face seem all the more horrible in comparison.
When he saw us and Poppy, Paimon’s eyebrows lowered and his mouth opened, roaringly: “Major Fyrdraaca, what are you doing here? Flora, Udo, I have been looking everywhere for you.”
“Poppy! Don’t let him eat us!” I cried. Udo and I had scurried behind Poppy at the first sight of Paimon, and now I peered around his back, not able to take my eyes off the denizen. I had never seen anyone so big or so blue. The Quetzals were the marriage of bird and human, and each taken alone would be fine. It was this unnatural combination that caused their grotesqueness. But Paimon was like nothing else I had seen before, the monster from a nightmare, the horror under your bed, the thing that gets you on the way to the loo in the middle of the night.
“Eat you!” Paimon said in dismay. “Eat you! Where did you get the idea I would eat you?”
Udo answered, “That water elemental—Alfonzo— said you were going to eat us.”
Paimon rolled his golf-ball-sized eyes and looked a little hurt. “Alfonzo is extremely untrustworthy. You should not listen to him. I have no intention of eating anyone.”
“Never mind the eating, Paimon,” Poppy said. “What the hell is going on here? Why is Flora here, strangely aged, and why is she disappearing? And why won’t you help her?”
Paimon sighed, a sigh that was almost a roar. “There has been some terrible misunderstanding. I knew I was thrown off balance, but I didn’t think it was that bad. Madama Fyrdraaca’s current instability is disruptive, and this disruption has made your times overlap. I apologize for the confusion; this is really not good. You should not have met. It’s bad precedent. You must go back, Major Fyrdraaca.”
“No matter, that. It’s only eight years,” Poppy said impatiently. “We have met, and now I want you to help Flora. Give her what she needs.”
Eight years? This could not be Poppy eight years ago. I remembered that Poppy well. That Poppy had ruined the slumber party I had for my sixth birthday by climbing onto the roof of the stables and howling like a coyote all night long. This was not that Poppy. With horror, I realized he thought I was the other Flora. He was trying to save the First Flora. He didn’t know me at all.
“Poppy, I’m—,” I started to say, but Paimon interrupted.
“What she asks for is useless. The solution she has suggested will not solve her problem.” Paimon’s words were directed at Poppy, but he aimed a glinty blue twinkle at me that clearly meant Not another word, and so glinty was that twinkle that I had to obey.
“And what exactly is this problem?” Poppy asked.
I will do the explaining, said that glinty blue twinkle, and explain Paimon did—an explanation that was basically the truth, with one big exception: He didn’t mention that Valefor was banished, only that he and I had become intertwined and I was attempting now to extricate myself, before I disappeared. And he did not explain that I was the Second Flora.
If only that blue glint would glint elsewhere, I would protest, but then it occurred to me that Paimon did not want Poppy to know the details of the future, and I saw that was probably right. Would I want to know that my future was lost, that my sanity hung by a thread, that only failure and pain lay ahead? Probably not. But still, I wished that Poppy would know it was me.
When the story—still woeful for all that it was now shorter—was over, Poppy shook his head. “That Valefor is a tricky one. Watch him like a hawk. He’s sweet, mostly, but boy, can he be trouble when he wants to be. Buck has to keep close tabs on him. Well, obviously, we need to call Buck. She’d get Val back in line pronto.”
Udo said, “Buck’s away, and she won’t be back in time to save Flora. By the time she returns, it will be too late.”
“Now, I could send Buck a letter. She’d get it and be forewarned about the future,” Poppy said.
“Ayah, but you didn’t, because if you had, then she’d know already,” Udo pointed out. “And she wouldn’t have gone anywhere.”
“Ayah, that is true enough,” Poppy admitted. “Paimon, can you slow Flora’s evaporation down? Keep her from disappearing until Buck returns? Don’t worry, honey. Hold on.”
Poppy reached out to me, to pull me back into his embrace, but his arms went through me as though I were made of smoke, diaphanous and gauzy.
“Poppy!” I gurgled. I tried to clutch him, but my reach was just as tenuous.
“I can see through her now!” Udo yelped.
A geyser of hysteria was building inside me and about to blow, and then two large white flannel arms pulled and held me tightly to a hard silk chest. For a second, I could barely breathe, in that barrel-chested embrace, then I realized that I didn’t have to breathe at all.
“I don’t understand,” Poppy said. “How can you touch her and I can’t, Paimon?”
Paimon answered, “I can manifest in the Waking World, but I am actually of Elsewhere. I am manifested in both the here and the now—her now and your here. Thus she is clear to me.”
“But I want to be in Udo’s here, or Poppy’s here,” I gasped.
“Paimon, you are the oldest House in the City—you have to be able to do something,” Poppy demanded.
“I have done all that I can do,” Paimon said, “though I have a suggestion to make. But I do not think it will meet with your favor.”
Poppy said, “I don’t know that this is the time to be squeamish. We shall do what we shall have to do. Let loose the advice, Paimon.”
“There is only one person in Califa who can help Flora.”
Poppy said impatiently, “Who is that? Don’t be all spooky about it.”
“Lord Axacaya,” Paimon answered.
THIRTY-NINE
Desperation. Decision. Departure.
OF ALL THE SUGGESTIONS Paimon could have made, this was the worst. My hope, which had sprung up when Poppy had proved to be so calm, so logical, so sure that we could figure something out, deflated like a punctured balloon. Oblivion is only one step awa
y, Nini Mo said, and bitterly now did I understand what she meant. Perhaps there truly was no hope, and I should just give up. But I looked at Poppy, so straight and tall, and Udo, so faithful and true, and I did not want to give up, for them. I did not want to lose them.
“Axacaya!” Poppy echoed. “That tin-potted backdoor hornswoggling drummer? That jabber-jawed mincing malicho? He wouldn’t help his own mother stay afloat in a stormy sea.”
“He is the greatest adept in the City,” Paimon said. “He himself straddles the Line, with one foot on either side of the divide between the Waking World and Elsewhere. He is the only adept alive who has crossed the Abyss and returned again. If there is a way to save Flora, he shall know it.”
I looked at Udo and Udo looked back at me, his jaw clenching. I knew he was remembering what I was remembering: Boy Hansgen’s death. And wondering whether or not Lord Axacaya knew of our involvement in his failed rescue. How could we ask Lord Axacaya’s help after that?
“But Lord Axacaya is Mamma’s greatest enemy,” I said weakly. “Why would he help me?”
“You do not know until you ask,” Paimon said. “And do not think that your situation only affects yourself. You and Valefor are being pulled back into the Abyss—the denizen of one of the great Houses of the City is disintegrating. This affects all the Houses, and not happily, either.”
“Sod Valefor—what about Flora?” Udo said rudely. “He can go if he wants. It is her we have to save.”
“They are the same now,” Paimon said. “As one goes, so, too, the other, unless they can be disconnected.”
“And I hate like hell to ask Axacaya for anything,” Poppy said doubtfully. “I doubt if either Buck or the General would like me to have that kind of a debt.”
“For Pigface sake, Hotspur,” Udo burst out. “Do you think that Buck is gonna like it if Flora evaporates? What’s she gonna say to that and if we could have done something to stop it and didn’t? I’ll go to Axacaya myself if I have to, and I’ll make him help, Flora. You can count on it.”
I blinked. When I looked straight at Udo, he was the same old Udo, but then when I blinked, it seemed that in his place stood a tall broad man, tanned from the sun, with fierce blue eyes, his waist girded with a heavy gun belt. Then I blinked again, and there was just scrawny Udo standing there. When I looked long at Poppy, I saw a skinny boy, pale face free of scars, ropes of blazing red braids looped about his neck and shoulders. Another blink, and there was Poppy, looking unhappy and lighting a cigarillo again. I couldn’t believe how beautiful he was.
“We have no choice,” the man who was Udo said, glowering.
The boy who was Poppy rubbed his face and blew a tendril of smoke. “Ayah, you are right, of course, Paimon.”
Paimon, no matter how many times I blinked, looked the same as ever, towering and monumental, and now damp with my tears. I looked down at my hands; they were like glass, and all trembly. Never to touch Udo again, never to pet Flynnie. Poppy had smelled so deliciously of bay rum and pipe weed; Udo of cinnamon soap and muffins. Now I could smell nothing. I would never smell anything again, not wet-dog Flynnie, or Mamma’s flowery hair pomade, or oranges. Never taste coffee, or maple-nut muffins, or chocolate. Paimon’s coat was soft beneath my face, but he had no heartbeat. I could distantly hear Udo and Poppy arguing, but already their voices were becoming dim, and soon I would hear nothing at all. I would float through Elsewhere, like a ghost, and gradually even Elsewhere would fade and I would grow dimmer and dimmer and then be gone.
What could Lord Axacaya do to me compared with that? He could refuse to help me. Would I be worse than I was now? Nini Mo said that you must dare, win, or disappear.
“I will go see Lord Axacaya,” I said in a small voice. And then, when no one paid any attention, I summoned up all the loudness I had left in me and said, in what turned out to be a shout, “I will go see Lord Axacaya!” “An’ you will,” Poppy said firmly. “But not alone. I shall go with you—I wager I can influence Axacaya to assistance.”
“And me, too,” Udo said.
Paimon shook his massive head, his ruff flying. “I am sorry, but you cannot, either of you. Flora is almost gone into Elsewhere, and there you cannot follow her, neither of you being adepts. I will escort her, but you both must return to your proper places.”
“I will go,” I said. “Udo, you should go home, take Flynnie and Bonzo. Maybe you can stall Mamma, if you have to.”
Udo protested, but what else could he do? Soon he would not be able to see me at all, and he could not follow me Elsewhere. So he agreed.
“But I do not want to have to explain to Buck what has happened,” he warned. “Do not leave me holding the bag, ayah, Flora? It would be pretty mean to float off into the Abyss and leave poor me to get walloped. Ayah so?”
“Ayah so,” I promised Udo, and hoped very much that I could hold to this promise. “And don’t forget to feed the dogs and to let them out. They are probably explosive by now.”
“As long as you are still bossy, Flora,” Udo said, “there is hope. How do I get out of here, Paimon? Also, can I have my hat back?”
“Go back up the stairs and I shall meet you and escort you to my gates,” Paimon answered.
At the bottom of the steps, Udo paused and looked back at Poppy. “Hotspur? My father—could you tell him...”
“Tell him what?” Poppy asked, when Udo didn’t continue.
“Tell him I said hello,” Udo said quickly and, turning about, disappeared up the stairs and into the darkness.
And so Udo was gone, and I hoped with all my heart that I would see him again, that this was not the last time for us. And I resolved, if I did return, to be a bit less snarky about his foibles, and also to give him the fuchsia umbrella I had gotten for my birthday the year previous and which he had been coveting. It is funny the trivial things you can think about, even when the situation is dire.
“Give us a minute, Paimon,” Poppy ordered. “And then I will let Flora go.”
“A minute only, Major,” Paimon said. “We have a long way to go.
Poppy crouched down so that we were more of the same height. I had never realized how toweringly tall Poppy really was; my Poppy’s permanent list made him seem shorter.
He said, “It is funny, young Flora, you seem too serious to be my child. Even transparent, I can tell that you are not a sunshiny girl. And you were so happy as a child, always laughing and singing. Flora...why did you not tell me what was wrong? I know you did not, or you should not be here now. For had I known, I would not have let it get this far. And yet—I know now, and still I did not help you when you needed me.”
“Poppy...”
He looked at me gravely. “I wasn’t born in a barn yesterday. I can tell that Paimon has withheld information from me. No doubt he doesn’t want me to know the future, and if he doesn’t want that, then I can only guess it isn’t good. And yet, it cannot be all so bad, Flora, for you are grown so beautiful and strong. But I think there can only be one reason why I would not help you—but you needn’t fear telling me. I do not fear dying, Flora. I expect it. Fyrdraacas don’t die in their beds. I only hope that I make a good death. And I’m sorry that it means I will not be there for you. Will not see you grow up.”
“Poppy...it’s not that—” I choked.
“And even now I cannot be much help to you. And for that I am sorry, too. But you may trust Paimon, and, Flora, you must trust your mother, too. She loves you and Idden more than anything, and she will never let you down. I remember when you were born—you insisted on entering the world feet first, with the cord wrapped around your neck. You should have died, most babies would have, but you were too tough then, and you are too tough now—a true Fyrdraaca.”
“Poppy you don’t understand—” I sobbed, “Poppy—” Paimon chimed closer and cut me off before I could say more. “We must go, Major Fyrdraaca. I’m sorry.”
“All right, Paimon. Now listen to me, Flora. Everything is going to be all right. Axacaya is
spooky, but he is just a man. Remember that. He is just a man. But you are a Fyrdraaca. Remember Barbizon?”
“Ayah.” I sniveled.
“Had she climbed off her pedestal when you left Crackpot?”
“No.”
“Well, then, see, the trouble ain’t so bad. Come on, girlie, don’t cry—it only spoils your aim.”
“We must go,” Paimon said urgently. “Come.”
Poppy kissed the air above my forehead, and I kissed it back. “Cierra Fyrdraaca, Flora.”
“Cierra Fyrdraaca, Poppy.” Paimon yanked me by the arm and sailed through the doorway. I turned back and caught a quick glimpse of Poppy, framed tall and straight, his hair glowing in the lamplight, and then he was gone.
FORTY
A Balloon. Bath Time. Looking Good.
I STUMBLED AFTER Paimon, with only his grip keeping me going. He dragged me onward, through endless hallways, up endless stairs, around endless corners, through endless galleries. I could barely keep up, huffing and puffing like a whirligig, then I stumbled over a riser, flew up in the air, and drifted like a kite, controlled by the firm grip of Paimon’s hand. Now I really was bobbing along like a balloon, and it was actually kind of fun. Like swimming without worrying about getting water up your nose or some snapperdog cannonballing onto your back and almost drowning you. I bounced and flew, feet trailing behind, hair whipping, and the wind was such a blur in my face that I could not see a thing.
Finally, we stopped, and when Paimon let go of my hand, I floated to the ground with a gentle thump, and there I lay happily. The carpet was as soft as grass. I blinked and saw that it was grass, sweet and warm, dappled with white daisies and egg-yolk-colored buttercups. I flopped over on my back and looked up at the periwinkle sky, spangled with little green butterflies. A fresh breeze ruffled my hair.
“That was cool,” I said. “Can we do that some more?”
“No,” Paimon intoned. “You must get ready to visit Lord Axacaya. You cannot go to him dressed like that.”
Flora Segunda: Being the Magickal Mishaps of a Girl of Spirit, Her Glass-Gazing Sidekick, Two Ominous Butlers (One Blue), a House with Eleven Thousand Rooms, and a Red Dog (Magic Carpet Books) Page 24
