Falcon Quinn and the Black Mirror (26 page)

T
hey floated. Below them was the Hidden City with its green and brown streets and houses. The shadows of twilight were lengthening across the city, and windows glowed with light. Behind them rose the towers of the castle, the Pinnacle of Virtues casting a long shadow. In another smaller tower, Falcon saw a woman standing in an arched window, looking out at the gloaming, and it took a moment before he realized that it was his mother. She lifted one hand to her face, then reached forward through the window and called to him. From far away he heard her voice echoing through the twilight.

“Falcon!”

“Always the life of the party,” said Quimby.

“She's my mother,” said Falcon. “The queen.”

“I know,” said Quimby.

“You know?” said Falcon.

“Hel-
lo
,” said Quimby. “I'm the spirit of the crystal. I know your past as well as your future.”

“What's my future?” said Falcon.

“Now, now,” said Quimby. “If I told you, it'd spoil the surprise.”

In the distance Falcon heard her voice calling him faintly. “Falcon! Come back!”

Falcon held on to the rope, his feet resting upon a knot tied at one end, and as he held on he felt a great sadness creeping over him. He remembered sitting in the kitchen of the beach house again, watching his mother make dinner, listening to her play the piano.

“Oh, for heaven's sakes,” said Quimby. “You're not—
crying
, are you?”

“No,” said Falcon, and sniffed. “I'm not.”

“I'm sorry she turned out to be such a disappointment,” said Quimby. “Your mother, I mean.”

“Why does everybody have to be so determined to kill each other?” Falcon said. “Why is everyone so—”

“So mental?” said Quimby. He sighed, and the escaping air made his floating form sink in the air a little bit. “You got me, Falcon Quinn. Maybe because it's easier to have enemies than not to have them?”

“How is it easier?”

“If you don't hate people, you have to learn to like them,” said Quimby. “And liking people? That's not easy. Believe me, the way people behave? There are times I wish I was back in that jar.”

There was a sudden blast from the city below them,
and an arrow sailed past Falcon's head, missing them by several feet.

“Here we go,” said Quimby. He huffed and puffed and inflated himself to twice his present size. They rose higher in the air as more arrows sailed past them.

“They're shooting at us!” said Falcon.

“Exactly,” said Quimby. “What was I just saying? This is a very good example of what I was talking about—the fundamental inability of creatures to get along with each other. It's
so
boring!”

“Can we have this conversation later?” said Falcon. Another arrow whizzed past.

“Fine,” said Quimby, puffing himself larger. “How's that?”

They rose higher in the air. The arrows passed beneath Falcon's feet now.

“That's good,” said Falcon. “I think.”

In the streets below, Falcon could see men in uniforms assembled, with spears and longbows pointing up at him. But soon Falcon and Quimby floated beyond the borders of the city, over the green expanse of the rain forest, above the sand beach, and finally out over the sea.

Falcon sighed.

“Penny for your thoughts!” said Quimby.

“It's like I lost her twice,” said Falcon. “Once when I was little. And now, all over again.”

“Falcon Quinn,” said Quimby. “You've lost your friend Megan. Jonny turned out to be a spy. Max and Pearl have been transformed to sheet music. Woody and Peeler are stars. And you're in mourning for—your
mother
? What has she ever done for you? Besides try to kill you?”

“You're right. All those monsters were more like my family than she ever was,” Falcon said. “I didn't even have time to
think
about Peeler and Woody! All they wanted to do was live their lives. And eat bananas. Now—”

“It is a pity that nothing comes for free,” said Quimby. “Even bananas.”

They floated above the waves of the ocean. From this height the water looked cold and green.

“Where are you taking us?”

“Hey, I'm just a floating head,” said Quimby. “I don't have any control over where we're going. I blow with the breeze!”

Falcon looked confused. “Seriously?”

“Looks like we're headed south,” said Quimby. “Same direction as the sunset.”

“The sun sets in the west,” said Falcon.

“Oops,” said Quimby. “Boy, is my face red!”

Quimby deflated a bit and he sank down a little closer to the surface of the water. “I wish Megan was here,” said Falcon. “She could blow us in the right direction.”

“But what is the right direction, Falcon?” said Quimby. “Where is it you want to go now? You busted out of the Academy because you didn't like it there. Then you jumped off of a tower in the Hidden City because you didn't like it there either. You're running out of islands.”

“I don't know where I want to go,” said Falcon. “It's like there's no place for me.”

“Yeah, well,” said Quimby. “Welcome to my world. All I wanted was to get out of that jar, all those years. And now that I'm out of the jar, guess what—I just blow around like a balloon. Does that sound like fun? It's not.”

“I'm sorry we cracked your jar,” said Falcon. “I'm sorry you got loose.”

“Oh, don't be sorry,” said Quimby. “Who knows what will happen next? It all depends on where the breezes take us.”

“Megan's the wind now,” said Falcon. “Jonny Frankenstein saved her. He told her what was going to happen and got her to disappear before the guardians came.”

“Whatever did he do that for?” said Quimby.

“He says he did it for me. He says he was my friend.”

Quimby sighed. “I was wondering how long it would take for you all to see through him.”

“Wait—you knew?”

“Falcon,” said Quimby. “I know everything.”

“What do you mean—everything?”

“Everything. What everyone is. What they will become. You think I like it? You're wrong. Nothing ever surprises me anymore.”

Falcon yawned.

“You tired, sonny boy? Why don't we flip you up on top of the dome so you can get a little shut-eye?”

Quimby gave the rope that Falcon was clutching a sudden twitch, and Falcon was swung up onto the top of Quimby's inflated head, which was springy and spongy, like a water bed.

“It's soft up there, isn't it?” said Quimby.

“It is.”

“Go on, grab yourself forty winks. I'll wake you up if we run into any dragons. Which we won't, not this journey anyhow. Like I said, I can see the future.”

Falcon lay back on the spongy giant head and looked up at the night sky. He felt his eyelids growing heavy.

“Do you have another prophecy for me?” said Falcon.

“What was wrong with the old one?” said Quimby.

“Nothing was wrong with it,” said Falcon. “You just never finished it.”

“What? Oh yes.
Falcon Quinn gets ripped in half
—you have to admit that's very dramatic. Let's see. Oh yes.
Makes his choice, and—aaaaaand
—wait for it!”

“And what?”

“You mean you still haven't finished it yet?”

“I thought you were the one who wrote the fortunes.”

“Falcon Quinn,” said Quimby, “we already had this conversation. I don't write your fortune. You do.”

 

The next thing Falcon knew, he was waking up, staring at a blue sky, feeling the morning sun upon his face. He sat up and looked around at the Sea of Dragons. They were approaching a small green island. Falcon saw the shapes of castles and towers.

“Good morning, merry sunshine!” said Quimby.

“Where are we?” said Falcon, rubbing his face.

“Gee,” said Quimby. “I wonder.”

They floated over a wall, and Quimby began to exhale air. They sank down lower to the ground.

“Good luck, Falcon,” said Quimby.

“Good luck?” said Falcon. “With what?”

The rope that hung down beneath Quimby twitched upward like a tail and swept Falcon off of the top of Quimby's head, flicking Falcon into the air. He fell for a few feet, then hit the earth. He had landed in the midst of a large green lawn.

To his left was the Wellness Center; to his right, the gymnasium. Before him, brooding in shadow, loomed
the five towers of Castle Grisleigh.

From a high window in the Tower of Science, a light suddenly flicked on.

“Good-bye, Falcon,” said Quimby, blowing away toward the wall that separated Castle Grisleigh from the Upper School and Castle Gruesombe. “Don't go all to pieces!”

“Wait,” said Falcon. “Come back!”

But Quimby was already rising. Watching Quimby blow away, Falcon put his hands deep in the pockets of Jonny Frankenstein's jacket, and his fingers closed around something. For a moment he wasn't sure what this was. Then he realized what it was he was touching, and he did the thing that he was least expecting: there in the sunrise, in the quad of Castle Grisleigh, Falcon Quinn began to laugh.

It
was
funny, if you thought about it. It was a riddle, and like most riddles, it was frustrating and obscure before you knew the answer, but afterward obvious and inevitable. It had been staring him in the face all along.

Now, finally, Falcon knew exactly what he needed to do and where he needed to do it.

H
e found the three green men sleeping in three parallel beds, lined up against one wall of their gingerbread house. Their eyes were open, and they were looking at Falcon thoughtfully, almost as if they had been expecting him. Their shiny green hands clutched the white linen sheets.

“I'm sorry to bother you,” he said, stepping into the room. “I'm Falcon Quinn, and I know I probably have, like, eighty-five million unhappiness stars as punishment for escaping from the Academy. So, if you want to call Mrs. Redflint and have her haul me off to the dungeon, that's fine. But I'm back—I went on this journey with my friends, and we got captured by
guardians.
Do you know who they are?”

The green men looked at each other, their eyes wide. They all sat up in their beds, in unison.

“Jonny Frankenstein was helping them—he—well, I guess he led us to them. They killed two of the Sasquatches—Peeler and Woody—and they turned Pearl
and Max into
this.
” Falcon pulled the sheet music out of the inside pocket of Jonny Frankenstein's leather jacket. “I got away from them and came back. I think the way to turn Pearl and Max back into themselves is by playing the music, loud. I mean, it says right here on the sheet music, ‘quadruple
forte.
' I know you guys have those drums and the tube things you play. So I was thinking if maybe you played this music, that they would come back?”

The green men looked at each other thoughtfully. Then they stood up simultaneously and went toward Falcon. They looked him in the eyes. One of them took the sheet music and stared at it for a moment, reading the notes. He nodded to the other two, who took the music from him and also examined it. Then the first green man clapped Falcon on the shoulder, and they opened the door and looked cautiously outside.

From the quad you'd have seen first one green head peek out behind the door, then another just above this, and then a third at the top. A moment later, all of them moved stealthily out into their small yard, then paused by the gate. One green man looked back at Falcon and gestured.
Come on. Follow.

Falcon raced after them as the men hurried across the quad and up the stairs.

The green men scurried past the trophy cases and into the gym, where their instruments were strewn all over the
stage at the far end. They pulled the covers off of their instruments—the glass bottles containing a glowing liquid, the enormous collection of tubes wrapped around a gyroscope, the kettledrums. The men put the music on their music stands and picked up their mallets.

“Do you think this will work?” asked Falcon.

The man in the middle glanced left, then right, then began to pound his ear-splitting kettledrums. The others waited a measure, then joined in. The man on the left had the music of Max; the man on the right had the music of Pearl, and each of them began to play the melodies that Falcon recognized from the moment of crystal transcription. Falcon recognized the hot, infectious rhythm of
“La Chupakabra
Bossa Nova” and the raucous, joyful groove of “The Sasquatch Waltz.” The windows in the gym rattled as the green men made their blasting sounds.

A wind blew through the air, and for a moment Falcon thought of Megan.
She's here too,
Falcon thought.
They're all coming back.

The music bounced and popped and raged. The green men's mallets flew through the air faster than Falcon's eyes could follow.

The music built to a climax, and then the green men hit their instruments hard, for four final unified beats. The last notes echoed in the gym, and then they all stood there as if frozen. The wind blew through the room, catching
the pages of the music, and the sheets fell off of the music stands and drifted onto the floor.

Then the wind stopped. The green men cast nervous, uncertain glances at each other. Falcon looked around the room. “Max?” he said. “Pearl?”

It took a moment for the obvious to sink in:
it hadn't worked.
One of the green men nervously picked up the music off the floor and put it back on his stand.

“Tony?” said a voice from across the gymnasium floor. “Tony Cucarillo?”

Falcon looked over at the door, where a girl in a plaid school uniform was standing; on her head was a pink and orange beanie with her name in sequins:
VIOLET
. It took Falcon a moment to remember who this was.

“Mortia?” he said.

The girl looked afraid and confused. “My name is Violet now,” she corrected him. “Violet Humperdink. What are you doing here? No one's allowed in here at this hour! This violates Rule Forty-seven K!”

“We escaped,” said Falcon, “me and Pearl and Megan. And the Sasquatches. We floated down the River of Crud down in the catacombs, and—Are you okay?”

“They
told
us you would try to sneak back in,” said Mortia, “and attack us!” Mortia looked very nervous. “Shall I call Mrs. Redflint, Professors?” she said to the green men. “Do you want to have them get Reverend Thorax?”

The green men looked at each other, then back at Mortia.

“They're helping me,” said Falcon.

“They're
helping
you?” said Mortia. “I don't understand. The faculty has been very specific. We're all supposed to be watching for you. If I don't report you, they'll send
me
to the dungeon for violating Rule Eighty-six B.”

“Mortia,” said Falcon. “After we escaped, we were captured by guardians. Monster destroyers.”

“
You're
a guardian,” said Mortia. “That's what they told us! That you were a spy, sent by your mother, to turn us all into balls of fire!”

“I'm not a spy,” said Falcon.

“Isn't your mother their leader?” asked Mortia. “Didn't you leave here to go join her?”

“She's…,” said Falcon. “Listen, I don't have time to explain—”

“What's that music you were playing?” said Mortia.

“That's Max and Pearl,” said Falcon. “They got turned into music. I'm trying to bring them back. That's what we're doing. I was hoping I could do it by playing the music, loud.” He held up the sheet music. “It's quadruple
forte
. See?”

“You're lying. You turned them into music so you could destroy them. That's what guardians do! We learned all about them in Monster Ed class.”

“I'm trying to help them,” said Falcon. “They're my friends.”

“I don't believe you!”

“Tell her what we were doing!” said Falcon to the green men. “Tell her!”

But the green men just looked at the floor. Falcon felt his black eye beginning to heat up and throb.

“I'm sorry, Falcon…,” said Mortia. “I mean—Tony.”

“What happened to you, Mortia?” said Falcon. “You used to be the queen of the zombies! Now you're—wearing a beanie.”

“I've learned to repress it, Falcon,” said Mortia. “I mean, Tony. It's the only way to survive. To learn to be a human. To pretend.”

“You don't believe that,” said Falcon. “Do you?”

“Falcon,” said Mortia. “I'm a
zombie
. Why would anyone want to be a
zombie
?”

“Mortia,” said Falcon, “you say
zombie
—like it's—a
bad
thing.”

“What are you going to do,” she said, “if you bring Max and Pearl back?”

“We're going to break into the dungeon. And set everybody loose. And take over.”

“Take over?” said Mortia.

“And take over,” said Falcon. “Maybe the answer isn't pretending to be humans. The answer is learning how to
control our monster powers, how to use them for good. That's what they ought to be teaching us! How to be ourselves, and not to be ashamed!”

Mortia looked confused. “There aren't many of us left now,” she said, “who aren't in the dungeon. Everyone's down there now. About the only ones left are the ones who are succeeding at imitating humans, like me and Merideath and the minotaurs, a couple others.”

“Ankh-hoptet?” said Falcon.

“Dungeon.”

“Elaine Screamish? The banshee?”

“Dungeon.”

“What about the leprechauns?”

“Sean and Shamus are still around. But the snowman—Owen? Dungeon.”

“Augusten Krumpet? The—fairy?”

“Dungeon.”

“Your classes must be pretty empty by now.”

Mortia shrugged. “They say it's the only way,” she said.

“Hello?” said a voice from out in the hallway. “Violet?”

“It's Mrs. Redflint,” said Falcon.

“I
know
,” said Mortia.

“Mortia,” said Falcon. “Please don't turn me in. I've got to rescue Max and Pearl. I've got to get everyone out of the dungeon.”

“I don't want to turn you in, Tony,” said Violet
Humperdink. “But I can't risk it—they'll put me in the dungeon too, if I don't.”

“Mortia,” said Falcon. “Do you really want to be the same as everyone else the rest of your life? Is that really what you want?”

“Hello?” said Mrs. Redflint's voice. The door at the far end of the room swung open, and the dragon lady waddled into the gym, smoke puffing from her nostrils. She looked over at the stage at the far side of the gym, curious. “What's going on here? What are you gentlemen doing in here at this hour of the morning?”

Violet Humperdink turned to her as she approached. “Mrs. Redflint, ma'am,” she said.

“Violet,” said the dragon lady. “What is the meaning of this? It's quite irregular!”

Violet looked at the green men, who glanced nervously at each other. They were holding their mallets in their hands.

“Well?” said Mrs. Redflint.

“They're practicing a new piece,” said Violet. “Something for our graduation.”

Mrs. Redflint looked at the green men, who, in unison, smiled big, innocent, toothy smiles.

“Well,” she said. “Isn't that nice.”

“I guess the gym is booked the rest of the day?” said Violet. “So they wanted to get in a practice early?”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Redflint. “Well. You should have informed Mr. Hake, gentlemen. All this noise before breakfast. It's turned everything upside down.” She blew a smoke ring from her nostrils and watched as it drifted slowly across the gym. “Carry on, then,” she said. “Continue with your rounds, Violet.” Violet nodded.

Mrs. Redflint waddled out of the gym. Violet waited until she heard the outer door slam, then turned back to the band. The green men looked at each other, and then at the horn of the gigantic godzooka, which was lying on the floor at the back of the stage. After a beat, Falcon climbed out of the bell.

“Whew,” said Mortia. “I thought you were dungeon bait, Falcon.”

“Thanks, Mortia,” said Falcon. He looked at the green men. “Thanks, guys.”

Mortia reached up to her head, took off her beanie, and held it in her hands contemplatively.

“You know,” she said, “I hate this beanie.”

“You
should
hate it.”

The green men looked at each other nervously.

“The godzooka,” Falcon said softly. “That's it.”

“What's it?” said Mortia.

“Listen,” said Falcon to the green men. “Can we play the music one more time?” He placed the sheets of music back onto their stands.

The green men looked at Falcon, then at the music, then at each other, and nodded. The man in the center began to play his kettledrums.

A measure later, the two other green men started to play, and Falcon blew into the enormous mouthpiece of the godzooka. He remembered what Mr. Largo had taught him:
Imagine the music in your heart. Then blow.

If the music had been loud before, now it was deafening. Mortia raised her hands and covered her ears as the combined melodies of “The Sasquatch Waltz” and
“La Chupakabra
Bossa Nova” shook the foundations of the Fitness Center. The sheet music blew off the music stands and curled into the air in an ascending spiral. Then the black notes began to leave the paper, and spun around in circles of ever-increasing velocity, until they dissolved into empty space. The drummers thundered out the rhythms of the two fused songs and then finished with a huge explosion of sound at the crescendo. For a moment the sound of the music echoed in the empty space.

Falcon looked around the room. There was no sign of Max or Pearl.

Then, all at once, the Chupakabra and the Sasquatch blasted out of the bell of the godzooka, as if they'd been hurled out into the world from the muzzle of a cannon.

“DUDE!” Max shouted. “WE'RE ALIVE! YOU DID IT! WE'RE ALIVE—AND STUFF!” he roared.

“You have saved us!” said Pearl exultantly. “You, Señor Falcon Quinn, have restored to living form Maxwell Parsons, the Sasquatch, as well as myself—¡
LA CHUPAKABRA!
THE FAMOUS GOATSUCKER OF PERU!”

The green men all beamed happily as Falcon rushed forward and hugged Max and Pearl buzzed around them in a circle.

“We couldn't have done it without—uh, Violet,” said Falcon. “At the last second, she decided not to turn us in to Mrs. Redflint.”

“My name,” said Violet, “is Mortia!
And I'm a zombie!
”

Max looked around at the gymnasium. “Whoa, we're back at the Academy. No way!”

“Yeah. I floated back here,” said Falcon.

“You did?” said Max. “How?”

“Quimby,” said Falcon.

“So!” said Pearl. “The decapitated one has shown he is our ally and our friend! We shall give him our praise!”

Max stumbled a little bit; he seemed slightly uneasy on his feet. “You okay?” said Falcon.

“Yeah, I'm just a little—” He stretched. “It's kind of weird being alive again,” he said.