Flora's Dare: How a Girl of Spirit Gambles All to Expand Her Vocabulary, Confront a Bouncing Boy Terror, and Try to Save Califa from a Shaky Doom (Despite Being Confined to Her Room) (19 page)

The little jaculus tumbled by me, shrieking, and disappeared out the open window. The air was filled with a whirl of things: a garland of daisies, a large pink galosh, a fried chicken leg, a magazine. The swaying lamp hit a guy in the middle of his fish-eyed head and the car was plunged into darkness. Down, down we slid into black, the rush of air on my face making it hard to breathe. I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth; no power on Earth could make me let go of Axila. Pressing my face into feathers, I heard the
thumpety-thump
of her heart.

How long we fell, I don’t know. An hour, a year, maybe longer. Maybe forever. And then suddenly our fall reversed itself. Instead of flinging forward, we were pressed back by a crushing sensation. The shrieking of the brakes reached a crescendo; my screams muffled into Axila’s chest.

We stopped, suspended in mid-nothing. And then, with a crash that sent my teeth through my tongue, we thudded down and were still.

Or at least the K dragoncar was still. My tum was bobbing like a cork in a storm, and my head was awash with spiraling dizziness. My tongue throbbed and I swallowed the heavy taste of iron.

“Have you pain?” Axila asked. The dragoncar lurched forward.

“I’m all right,” I said thickly The fog had thickened to the consistency of custard; I couldn’t see anything outside. But the dragoncar was now going bumpety-bump, which made me think we were on a corduroy road. There’s only one corduroy road in the City: the China Basin Road, which leads to Woodward’s Gardens, and then to points south.

“Where are we going?” I demanded. “And where is Lord Axacaya?”

“He will meet us there,” the Quetzal said.

“Where?”

“Did he not say?”

“No.”

“Do you not know?”

“No,” I said, exasperated.

The Quetzal scratched her head with one long green-painted talonlike fingernail. “Not all that glitters proves to be worth the shine.”

I was still trying to figure out what she meant when the dragoncar halted.

“Madama Rose’s Flower Garden!” the driver hollered. “Last stop! All off!”

W
E CLAMBERED DOWN
the dragoncar’s rickety steps. Ronové gave a cheerful wave, and the door snapped shut behind us. The dragoncar disappeared into the fog, leaving us muffled in a miasma of grayness and standing before an enormous disembodied monkey head.

Not a real monkey’s head, of course, but a two-story structure built to look like one. Now I knew where we were: Woodward’s Gardens & Fun Fair. I’ve been to Woodward’s a zillion times on Sanctuary field trips and for birthday parties; it has everything you could ever want as far as amusement goes: a zoo, fun-fair rides, an art gallery, and a giant open-air restaurant called Mag’s Ham Bun. The last time I had been to Woodward’s Gardens had been for Udo’s Catorcena, when I had eaten too much pink popcorn and thrown up on the Loup de Loup, which fact Udo will never ever allow me to forget.

Udo!

“Are we meeting Lord Axacaya here?” I said to the Quetzal.

“Ayah.”

“But Woodward’s Gardens isn’t open at night.”

“Is that so?” Axila Aguila answered and pointed to the monkey head. It has large bulging eyes that glow a nauseating green, and its enormous mouth gapes open as though it is screaming with laughter. On the monkey’s head, a crown of sputtering galvanic lights spells out
FUN AND FROLIC.
To enter Woodward’s Gardens, you must step into the Monkey’s Maw, as though you are being swallowed alive.

Normally the monkey looks as though he’s having a pretty good time. Tonight, however, the gaping mouth looked as if it was screaming with horror, not fun, and the glowing eyes seemed to sparkle with rage. Cheerful things always look melancholy in the dark—but even so, there was something about the monkey’s attitude that made my spine feel shivery. A short line of entities was queued up before the Monkey’s Maw. Clearly, Woodward’s was open for business.

“Come,” the Quetzal said, and we got in line behind a fire elemental. The elemental was only about the height of Gesilher, Udo’s six-year-old brother; his skin was a dark brick red, and his hair was on fire. Tiny flames licked at his temples, and a cowlick of acrid smoke drifted up from the top of his head. The line moved quickly, and we soon reached the front.

The gatekeeper was a boy in a ragged redingote, buttoned up against the night’s chill. He didn’t look more than two years old; he was sitting on a stool and his swinging feet didn’t even touch the ground. His tiny red lips were distorted by the black cigarillo he was smoking, and a small top hat perched upon his white-blond curls. In other circumstances, he would have been adorable. Right now it seemed to me that anyone—anything—that cute had to be a trap.

He spoke to the Quetzal in Huitzil. She hissed back at him and he waved us on. Into the Maw we went, stepping over sharp wooden teeth onto a thick plush ruglike tongue. During the day, you can see the light at the end of the tunnel and know that you are not really being swallowed alive. But now, only darkness lay ahead and it was easy to imagine that we were on our way to the belly of the beast. Within a few steps, my eyes adjusted and I realized that the blackness was tinged with a diffused glow that was coming from Axila—and me, as well. I held up my hands and saw their outline gleaming pale pink. “I’m glowing.”

I felt the movement of the Quetzal turning to me. “It is the Gramatica.”

“What do you mean?”

But she didn’t answer. Ahead, the darkness lifted into silver light. We were passing through a long gallery of mirrors, and Axila Aguila was walking so quickly I had to trot to keep up. I was only able to catch quick glimpses of myself; but these glimpses were not happy ones. Was I really that short? Had my eyeliner run that badly? I had two chins!

“Don’t look to the left.” The Quetzal grabbed my arm and pulled me along even faster. “It does not reflect true—it only magnifies your flaws until they seem monstrous. Don’t look to the right—that shows only vanity.”

Of course, I immediately looked to the right and was charmed by what I saw there. How bright my eyes and firm my chin, and what perfect ringlets my hair. How could I ever have felt ugly—

“Come! Come! Do not allow yourself to be caught!” Axila Aguila bundled me along. Suddenly the mirrors were gone and we were inside the Gardens.

During the day, the Gardens are bright with color and cheerful with the sounds of the sideshow music and children’s screams of joy. Now everything was shadowy and hushed. Here and there a torch flared along the pathway, but the light seemed oddly pale and didn’t travel far. I heard the distant sound of music, dissonant and out-of-key, mingling with high-pitched howls and screeches. Directly ahead, garish lights glittered above the treetops: the lights of the fun-fair and the midway. I didn’t think I wanted to see who was on the rides or playing the games, and I
knew
I didn’t want to see what kind of sideshows Madama Rose’s offered.

“Flora, I am so glad you have come.” Lord Axacaya coalesced out of nowhere and drew me into a hot embrace. He clasped me closely to his chest; feathers tickled my nose, and a little quiver went down my spine. I was enveloped in the heady smell of incense, the dry heat of his skin. I inhaled deeply and deliciously.

“Are you all right? I’m sorry about that scene with Hotspur. It was most regrettable.” He released me from the hug, alas, but continued to hold my hand, drawing me into a walk next to him.

Despite the darkness, I could see Lord Axacaya perfectly The light that came from Axila and me was faint, hardly visible in the moonlight. But Lord Axacaya glowed as though lit from within. The tattoos on his arms, chest, and hands stood out like green tracings upon his luminescent skin. Even his hair shone like butter, yellow and rich. Now I understood what Axila had meant. My Gramatica vocabulary was limited, small, and thus, so was my glow. But Lord Axacaya’s fluency in Gramatica made him brilliant. He just
had
to agree to teach me; I’d never find a better instructor.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I answered. “Poppy’s the one who should be sorry.”

Lord Axacaya said soothingly, “He did not hurt you, did he? You should not be left alone with him.”

“I’m all right, really. Poppy wouldn’t dare hurt me.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps. I hope you are right. What a terrible situation—we shall discuss it more later. I’m sorry that I could not meet you earlier. I had to attend upon the Ambassador.”

In my own woe, I had forgotten about the assassination attempt. “Is he dead?”

“No. It takes more than an assassin’s bullet to kill the Ambassador—even a silver bullet won’t do the trick. He was more annoyed than hurt.”

“Did they catch the assassin?” I asked, hoping they had not. If the EI wasn’t involved in this attempt, I’d eat my hat.

“Ayah,” Lord Axacaya’s answer sent a silver cold eddy through my blood. “He didn’t get far—”

He!
That was a relief. Not Idden, then, for sure. I was certain she was involved, but at least she wasn’t caught.

Lord Axacaya continued: “I think he was hoping for martyrdom. Now he shall hope for a painless death. Ah well, seldom do we get exactly what we wish for. But never mind that, we have bigger fish to fry. The Current is about to crest, and we need that surge if we are to get where we are going.”

“Where is that?”

“The Bilskinir Baths.”

Triumph rushed through me. “To the Vertex there?”

Lord Axacaya glanced at me, and then laughed. “I should have known you would be informed, Flora. Ayah, Bilskinir Baths is the site of a Vertex, the most powerful Vertex in the City, and there we shall find what we seek. The Loliga. Clever girl.”

We had reached the Circular Pond, which stands in the center of Woodward’s Gardens. In the daytime you can rent a swan boat and pedal around the pond, feeding the koi that lurk in the murky water. A white shape drifted over to where we stood on the dock; I guess you could rent the swan boats at night, too. Axila Aguila was using a boat hook to reel the swan in.

But the Bilskinir Baths are on the other side of the City, and while it is true that there is no longer any way to get there except by water due to the unstable cliffs, I didn’t see how a little swan boat would help us. Point Lobos is rocky and the surf is dangerous; the boat would be instantly crushed against the rocks.

Lord Axacaya must have seen my bewilderment, for he said soothingly “It will all be clear soon, Flora.”

He hadn’t dropped my hand, and now he raised it to his lips. My knees felt extremely wiggly. I took a deep breath.

“I need you to trust me, Flora. It is easier to show you than try to explain. The journey is dangerous but necessary. And I promise I shall let nothing happen to you. Will you come with me?”

Think twice and act once,
said Nini Mo, but I didn’t have to think twice at all. Nini also said to go with your gut, and my gut said
go.
So did my heart, my liver, my lungs, every bit of me. A ranger never turns down an adventure. Nini Mo didn’t say that, but it was true nonetheless.

“Ayah,” I answered. “I’ll come.”

Behind us, I heard a noise that could have been a huff from the Quetzal, but I didn’t turn around to check. Lord Axacaya was smiling down at me, and in the light of the torches, his eyes seemed almost the color of quicksilver. My heart was buzzing like a bee.

Lord Axacaya handed me into the swan boat and then climbed in. The Quetzal gave us a good shove off the dock, and off we went, pedaling madly across the silvery water to—where?

“The Current,” Lord Axacaya said, “rises and falls, just as the tide does. It flows, just as water does. Hence, we in the Waking World so oft refer to it in liquid terms.”

“Ayah,” I puffed. Lord Axacaya was pedaling quite quickly and it was hard to keep up.

“The energy we call the Current can manifest in many forms, but it can also be channeled through water. The Current runs through the City much like an underground river. It is around us all the time, sometimes lightly, like a fog. Sometimes heavier, as a rain. And sometimes it floods.”

He stopped pedaling and I did the same. From across the Pond came the sound of distant revelry. Somewhere a duck quacked and was answered by another. But the water was still and silent beneath us.

He continued. “There are three levels of human comprehension—”

“The Waking World, the Abyss, and Elsewhere,” I said eagerly. “Life, Death, and In Between.”

“Ayah, so. The Current flows through all three. There are places in the City where the Current bubbles close to the surface of the Waking World,” Lord Axacaya said, “and manifests as water, mingles with water. Sometimes even appears to
be
water.”

Poppy had once made me jump from the roof of the Folly into the Sunken Puddle, and he had said that the water was the Current. At the time, I had thought he was talking crazy, but maybe I had been wrong.

Lord Axacaya continued: “In these places, which are known as Wells, it is possible to enter the Current and to swim through it, swim along it, to follow the Current as it flows. If we pedaled to the ruins of Bilskinir Baths, that is all we would see: ruins. But we want more than that.” Lord Axacaya stood up so suddenly that the swan rocked alarmingly and I clutched at the side of the boat. He unclasped his feathered cape, let it slither down, and jumped into the water. He surfaced almost immediately, shaking his head, and swam back over to the boat, grabbing hold of its side. Again, the boat surged alarmingly, the swan-head listing.

“The water is very warm,” Lord Axacaya said. “Come now, we have no time to waste. You can swim, can’t you?”

“Of course I can swim,” I said. Orange and white flickered in the water’s darkness; koi were nudging up against Lord Axacaya, who pushed them away with a sweeping arm.

“Then come—the Current will soon crest, and then begin to ebb. We must be in and out by then or we shall be stuck.”

He ducked under the surface. I quickly pulled off my boots and socks, then bundled my pinafore into my redingote and stuffed them into my dispatch case. Without Lord Axacaya’s furnace warmth so near, the night air was cold. I looked at the black water. Lord Axacaya had not resurfaced. I hesitated. The Loliga was at Bilskinir Baths and she’d tried to snatch me twice. The third time might be the charm. But Lord Axacaya was not going to take a coward as a student.