City of Fire (City Trilogy (Mass Market)) (23 page)

“Your kind and me, we go way, way back,” Pele agreed, waving a hand to indicate a great distance. “Sometimes we’ve been on the same side and sometimes not. But oh, yes, you’ll pay someday. I’ll come to you like this.” She held out her palm. “And you’ll fill it with whatever I want.” The tiny leathery palm seemed to stretch until it was as wide as a baseball mitt. “If you don’t,” she warned, “you’ll be sorry.”

Bayang breathed a sigh of relief. “We’ll honor that debt.”

Pele nodded to the children. “So you’ll stay here, eh? On his island, Roland has got guards. He’s got wizards. He’s got lots of monsters with teeth, who’ll gobble up bitty things like you. Even
I
didn’t want to go there. That’s why I was trying to nab him here.”

Scirye remembered how, back in the museum—that seemed like an eternity ago—she had mentioned casually to Kles that it might be fun to meet a goddess. She now realized that her friend had been right. A being so powerful and dangerous was most definitely not amusing—especially when her moods could change so quickly and her temper could erupt just like her volcanoes.

However, as terrifying and whimsical a creature as she might be, Pele was also honorable. It had been Tumarg to save Scirye and her companions and it was Tumarg to rescue her friends. Pele was a goddess worthy of respect, perhaps even admiration.

Scirye bowed reverently to the little old spirit again. “I swore an oath to my goddess when Roland’s creatures killed my sister. I can’t break it, even for you, Lady Pele. If you try to leave me behind, I’ll… I’ll follow you even if I have to swim all the way.” She
tried not to cringe as she waited for Pele to throw a dagger of fire at her.

The goddess, though, folded her arms in amusement. “Are you that good a swimmer? It’s a long way from here.” Pele patted the girl’s head with a hot palm. “But I think you would. So who is this goddess, eh?”

“N-Nanaia,” Scirye stammered.

“I can’t say I ever met her, but I’ve certainly heard about her.” Pele shrugged one shoulder as if it couldn’t be helped. “And from those tales, I think it’s better if I don’t cross her. So if she told you to go, then you need to go. Because,” she intoned solemnly, “blood is blood.” The words rang with a dreadful finality like the last blows of a hammer upon a newly forged sword.

So Nanaia’s name brings respect even in this faraway place, Scirye thought. I guess that it’s just as well I didn’t break my vow and quit
.

No matter what Pele had said, Scirye felt like the same girl she had always been. Leech and Koko, though, had taken a step away from her and were examining her curiously as if looking for some special sign like a third eye.

“So it was Nanaia that made you take down the carpet?” Leech asked.

“No, I did it on my own,” Scirye insisted and then scratched her head, her fingers surreptitiously feeling for a halo. “At least, I think so.”

Leech turned to Pele and his hand motioned to Koko and then himself. “Well, we don’t know Nanaia, but our friend got killed at the same time.”

Pele clasped her hands behind her back. “Blood is blood,” she repeated reverently as if it were part of a ritual.

Or a curse.

With yet another typical sudden shift of emotion, Pele went
from being solemn to being cheerful. With a deep laugh like gas bubbling out of mud, she said, “Well, if you come with me, you’ll have to make yourself useful and carry my treasures.”

As they followed her out of the alley, Scirye whispered to Kles, “Do I smell any different to you?”

“No, or I would have said something,” her griffin replied in a low voice.

Self-consciously, Scirye felt her forehead for some other mark left by Nanaia. “What about my face?”

“Just more dirt than usual,” Kles answered. Licking his paw, he wiped vigorously at her cheek.

Scirye knew it was useless to resist so she submitted with a sigh. “I don’t feel any different, though.”

“Neither do I,” Leech said, and tapped his armbands. “And I certainly don’t see what’s so special about these, either.”

Kles fluttered in the air, circling around Scirye so he could inspect for more dirt. “You can’t judge someone or something by their appearance,” he said as he settled back on her shoulder.

“Maybe that’s something else we have in common.” Scirye smiled at Leech.

Leech grunted in agreement. “It’s funny, though.”

Out on the sidewalk, Pele squatted by the cardboard with her cheap earrings. She tapped one with a fingertip. “Why do you think no one bought my lovely earrings, eh?” she asked in a hurt voice.

Scirye had assumed the jewelry was merely part of Pele’s disguise, but apparently she was serious about selling them. It seemed odd that a goddess would be concerned with trinkets instead of divine matters, but then Pele seemed like a very odd deity.
I guess her hobbies are just as whimsical as her moods
.

The girl thought they were too gaudy but now was no time to tell the blunt truth. On the other hand, to lie would not be Tumarg.
What would my mother the diplomat do?
Scirye wondered to
herself and then said, “Everybody has different tastes.” Which was true enough and kept to the spirit of Tumarg, if not the letter.

Pele pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Maybe the earrings need something more, eh?” She glanced up at Scirye and Bayang. “What you think?”

Scirye and Bayang looked at one another. Neither one of them kept up with the latest fashions. On the other hand, the goddess seemed to be expecting some sort of help and it wouldn’t be wise to annoy her. “A lot of the passengers in the terminal were wearing orange,” she suggested.

“Ah, there you go.” Pele’s head bobbed cheerfully. “Then I’ll add some orange feathers next time.” Now in a happy frame of mind, the goddess handed the card to Leech. “Don’t break anything.”

Scirye had expected to head toward the harbor so it puzzled her when Pele led them inland instead.

The goddess strolled across the busy boulevard as if the speeding vehicles were as harmless as chickens. Scirye twitched every time she heard brakes screech and horns honk but she stayed with Pele. When they reached the sidewalk on the opposite side, her shoulders sagged in relief.

“That was as scary a trip as our flight through San Francisco,” Kles panted. His fur was all sweaty.

Scirye couldn’t help noticing that after the announcement of her bond to Nanaia, Leech and Koko were being careful to keep Bayang between them and her. That made Scirye feel a little sad.

“Aren’t we going to take a boat?” Leech asked.

“You think Roland only pay those fishy boys to protect him?” Pele asked, jerking a thumb in the direction the sharks had taken.

“So there are guards on the sea?” Bayang asked.

“And under it and above it.” Pele nodded and then explained that not only did Roland have human guards patrolling in boats,
but monsters keeping watch beneath the surface, as well as in the air. “People who go without an invitation, they don’t come back.”

“So how are we getting there?” Koko asked.

“First we walk,” Pele said, and shuffled away.

“On water?” Leech protested. He flinched when Pele’s bony hand patted his cheek.

“I got my ways, maybe-maybe boy,” the goddess said confidently.

It was a hot sunny day in Honolulu and the tourists were out in droves, reeking of suntan lotion as they strolled from one store with paper leis and T-shirts to another. Pele, though, shuffled on steadily. Anyone in the crowd who blocked Pele’s way suddenly found themselves brushed to the side by invisible hands. And one tourist who made the mistake of commenting on the crazy old native suddenly had his belt break.

Pele smiled slyly as she passed the man struggling to hold up his pants. “You’re too big for your britches,” she said—just as a pigeon landed on his head. They left him still trying to mop up the mess with his handkerchief.

“Neat trick,” Leech said admiringly. “Could you teach me how to do that?”

“I think you know enough tricks,” Pele said.

“That man”—Bayang chuckled—”doesn’t realize how lucky he is to get off with just that punishment.”

“I’m saving all my meanness for Roland,” Pele promised with a look that made them all glad she wasn’t directing her anger at them.

A stream of taxis was pulling into a huge hotel, emptying out passengers, luggage, and steamer trunks. “Some ocean liner must have arrived in port,” Bayang hazarded and glanced at Pele. “I’m surprised that you put up with all this development.”

“Children have to play, you know? Or they get bored. And then
I get bored.” Pele stopped by an overflowing trash can and rummaged around. She pulled out a broken backscratcher, but after trying to satisfy an itch unsuccessfully, she tossed it back in. “Pah! This thing is boring.”

“So people are your hobby?” Leech asked.

“But maybe one day everybody gets too big for their britches like that tourist. Then I show them just who’s the boss still.” She swept her arm in a wide circle to indicate all the stores, hotels, and crowds. “This is all very pretty. This is fun. But this is also all fake.”

At a snap of her fingers, the asphalt of the street began to bubble and melt as cars changed into crystal-sided tortoises that nosed into the blackness and disappeared except for their colored backs. Traffic lights became trees with flowers decorating their leaves. The white pavement became as brittle as bone and cracked as shrubs began to wriggle upward like green, leafy serpents. Brightly colored shirts in a store window suddenly dissolved into a flock of parrots that flapped about.

Pele gave her bubbly laugh, dancing in delighted circles like a small child. “This is the truth.”

Faster and faster grew the vines as they overran the buildings, until they were hills and mountains of green, and the neon signs became dense mats of lianas with huge scented flowers. The trees multiplied, branches hiding the sky, leaves devouring the sunlight.

Scirye and her friends stood dazed as the city disappeared like cheap watercolors dissolving in the rain and revealing the real surface beneath.

It was as if the mural in the plane terminal had come to life—or something beyond even that. After all, the mural had been some human’s interpretation of a jungle so the artist had made it comfortable for humans. But that was just a friendly mask hiding the true face.

Everywhere they were surrounded by green—a green so lush that Scirye could taste it, chew on it, swallow it. But the green kept darkening,
absorbing the light like a sponge so that it grew dimmer and dimmer around them. Scirye began to feel as if they were imprisoned inside a dark emerald box.

“Duck!” Koko yelled, crouching as a mosquito the size of a sparrow zoomed past. The boy stayed low, glancing overhead nervously. “Did you see the schnozola on that thing? It was the size of a knitting needle.”

“She’s gone!” Leech gasped.

It was true. There was no sign of Pele. She had left them alone in the middle of that gloomy green cavern. Had they made her mad somehow? Had the goddess become bored with them already? Or was she simply playing a prank?

As Scirye frantically searched for the goddess, she became aware of larger, deadlier things prowling about in the shadows. Hungry things. She pressed a hand against Kles for reassurance and felt him trembling, as well.

Scirye drew closer to Bayang, realizing as she did so how much she had already come to rely upon the dragon. Leech did the same and so did Koko, despite his misgivings about her.

The next moment a nearby tree started to shake and there came angry squawks. Then Pele appeared, sliding down a vine-wrapped trunk and holding one fist over her head. “Quit complaining!” she yelled above her. “You won’t miss a few of these.” Then, oblivious of their frightened faces, Pele held a fistful of orange feathers above her head and announced triumphantly to Scirye and Bayang, “I got them. Now those tourists are bound to buy my pretty things.”

“Ah… um… I’m glad,” Scirye said, glancing about uneasily, for the shadowy creatures had not gone away. In fact, there seemed to be more of them—as if they were being drawn to Pele.

“What?” the goddess asked, finally noticing how nervous Scirye and the others were. She followed the direction of their eyes. “Oh, them.” She turned to the trees. “Not today,” she called
to the shadows. “We’ll play some other time. Maybe I’ll bring you a millionaire as a toy.”

Then the goddess snapped her fingers again and they were standing in modern Honolulu with tourists bumping into them and cars honking in the street.

Pele handed the pile of feathers to Leech. “Don’t lose these,” she warned, “because you only mess with Pele once.”

Leech carefully stowed them away in his pocket. “I’ll guard them with my life.”

Scirye couldn’t help shivering. She had never heard of a spirit so powerful that she could remake the world. That was far more dangerous than one who threw thunderbolts.

“Don’t worry. I’m not fed up with the city.” Pele winked. “Yet.”

“H-how did you do that?” Scirye stammered.

“I know who I am.” Pele clenched her fingers into a fist. “That’s my power.” She opened her hand again to reveal the empty palm. “If you don’t know who you are, you’re really nothing.”

“Well, how do you …uh… discover who you are?” Scirye asked.

Pele put a hand on her shoulder and her palm felt hot but reassuring. “I think you’ll find out when you carry out Nanaia’s plan.”

As they walked on, following the elderly goddess, Leech worked up enough nerve to speak to Scirye directly. “Are you scared about your mission from Nanaia?”

“Who wouldn’t be?” Scirye admitted.

Leech scuffed his heels against the sidewalk thoughtfully. “There’s her and there’s Pele and this Roland guy. They wouldn’t get involved if they weren’t all playing for high stakes. Usually a guy like me wouldn’t even be allowed in the door, let alone sit at the poker table.”

Scirye thought she saw a traffic light’s shape flicker and change for a moment into the shape of a tree with strange red and green
fruit before it transformed back again. “I wish I knew why she chose me. I don’t feel special.”

“Well, you look normal”—he grinned reassuringly—”for someone walking around in a funny costume and a sweatshirt under her coveralls.”