Land of Verne (13 page)

Madam Adelaide examined her fingernails. “Your turn,” she said to Rudy.

Rudy fired off her blaster and it barely flew past the first window.

“Not much better,” the Tutor muttered.

Treena struggled to get up from the ground, and when she did, her hand was dripping from a sticky red substance. Bright red, it sparkled in the sun.

Madam Adelaide grabbed her hand. “That’s Jinn blood, and it still sparkles. It’s fresh!”

“Is it my turn now?” Quinn asked, not noticing what was on Treena’s outstretched palm. His voice was low and hoarse and he had bags under his eyes like purple drapes. He’d been up most of the night coughing and pacing in the room.

Madam Adelaide rolled her eyes. “Fine, go ahead.”

Quinn’s shot barley made it over his head.

“How was that?” he asked and yawned.

The woman waved him off. “As expected,” she muttered and turned to Treena once more. “Where did you find this, girl?”

Treena pointed. “On the ground.”

The Tutor eyed her with suspicion.

“Everyone inside,” she said. “I need to show this to Master Galan.”

She ushered them in and Grim paused to look back.

Two things caught his attention. A bird roosting on the edge of a window across the street. It was red and white with one mechanical eye, and a serrated beak. Below it was a hooded man. He backed into the alley as Grim tried to get a better look. Then the red bird fluttered its wings and flew away. And the man was gone.

In the week that followed, an increasingly somber mood resonated throughout Madam Malkim’s. Rumors spread about Jinns in the city. Grim didn’t know what or who to believe and just nodded indiscriminately to all of the gossip and rumors that followed.

Madam Malkim called the attention of students and orphans alike in the Hall.

“There has been an event of some concern,” she said. “On three separate occasions a Jinn has been seen in the city streets, each time it was close to the Academy.”

There was near panic among the students, and hushed comments among the orphans about Gargoyles. Some of the orphans looked suspiciously towards them.

Grim leaned over the table to whisper. “Why is everyone staring at Dorian’s table?”

Quinn appeared stunned. “Don’t you know?”

“No.” He didn’t like where this was going.

“Gargoyles live in the Shadowlands. No one trusts them. And they experiment with things that are unnatural. It’s been said they are trying to find a way to revive the Jinns, just like the Darksworn.”

Madam Malkim continued. “I recommend caution and traveling in groups until the City can rid us of this menace. When there is more information to be revealed I will call another meeting. That is all.” With that Madam Malkim strode from the Hall.

Almost the whole room looked over again at the cluster of Gargoyles that sat off to the side.

Rudy pointed towards Sam, Ellen and the twins. They stood with the Gargoyles. “You think they’re safe with Dorian?”

He hesitated for a moment. “I think so.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Later in the day, Grim stood with Treena and Rudy outside the Academy. They waited on Quinn, who marched across the grounds from the sewers. His pants were completely disheveled and he scowled as if he had just drank Orlanda Kennelworth’s BitterRhynde Tea.

Master Galan stepped from the building, purple stains dappling his robes.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted them. He eyed Quinn. “What happened to you?”

“Sewer duty. The junction at Bagshot Alley was plugged,” he muttered.

Treena and Rudy snickered. Grim covered his mouth to stifle a chuckle as he pictured Quinn ankle deep in sewage.

“You’ll get your turn,” he growled.

The smiles melted from their faces.

“Let’s get started then,” Master Galan said, and led them into the side door of his Alchemy Lab. It was crammed with bottles and books piled almost to the ceiling. Inside were shelves of vials: fluorescent yellow, sky blue, blood red, glowing white, pitch black, and everything in between. The room was so overfilled there was barely room to stand.

Master Galan stood at the front, shuffling a stack of torn papers in front of him.

Grim let Scarlet go and she clambered over to Master Galan’s desk, studying the various elixirs and powders. She put a feeler into the different vials as if tasting them and Master Galan seemed almost afraid to stop her, watching her nervously. She was tasting a purple one when Grim called over. “Scarlet! Stop that!”

The spider creature twitched its little mandibles at him angrily.

“Bad!” he said.

Then she lowered her head and went to looking at ripped pages and books.

“Sorry about that,” Grim said. “She’s quite curious.”

Master Galan, seemingly relieved, nodded his head. “That’s all right. We all get a spell of curiosity. Now,” he said. “I need these vials cleaned and refilled. You can dispose of old liquids in that basin over there,” he said, pointing towards a wooden vat.

“What’s this?” Rudy asked, and held up a flask of yellow liquid.

“That is essence of buttercup. It’s used to help with a bad cough. Put that on the shelf next to you. I may still have need of that,” he said, looking at Quinn.

“What about this?” Treena asked as she polished a vial of dull green sludge that undulated under the surface of the glass. It looked like it was alive.

“That,” he said, “is Poison Slime. It’s a rather fickle substance and it’s difficult to predict what it will do. And before anyone else asks, Quinn, that is blue ivy juice, and Grim you are holding oak root powder. I’ll need you to mix all three of those to brew a healing salve that cures Gunslinger’s Wart. Each of you should take a bowl and one vial of each. I know it’s a little tight in here, but try to find space on one of the tables. And please be careful when adding the oak root powder. You must add the ingredients slowly.”

The chore proceeded with ease, Grim following Master Galan’s instructions with care. He was glad to do something other than cleaning spittle bowls and crappers, although Quinn scrutinized Grim’s every move. It made him feel self-conscious, and he neglected to pay attention to the correct proportions. He added a handful of oak root powder into the blue ivy juice instead of just a pinch.

As a result, thick vapors emanated from the bottle. Grim tried to put it down in time, but it slipped from his grasp and crashed to the floor. The Poison Slime slithered across the ground and made its way under the door as the room filled with a cloud of thick, blue-and-silver smoke.

“Everyone, please remain calm, and listen,” instructed Master Galan through the haze. “Follow the sound of my voice. We’ll all leave together.” Grim groped towards the sound of Master Galan’s calling voice. He used the tables to guide him and heard Scarlet’s clicking sounds to his left. He put his hand out for her and then retracted it swiftly as pain surged up his arm. She’d bit him. Then he nearly tripped over something on the floor.

“Ouch!” said a boisterous voice in the fog.

He cradled his hand. “Sorry, Rudy.”

Finally, when all of them were at the door, Master Galan guided them out the entrance and they practically tumbled out.

The old man laughed. “Well, we’re fortunate that that wasn’t tincture of poppy or we’d all be sleeping for days,” he said, looking at Grim.

He blushed, still holding his hand. “Sorry.”

“Oh, quite all right, quite all right. These things happen. I’ll have to have the room aired out. We’ll try again tomorrow, shall we?”

Grim nodded, but felt ridiculous.

“Well, what shall we do now?” Treena asked as Master Galan disappeared back into the room.

Quinn trailed behind, obsessed with wiping off his clothing.

“I think I’m going to head back to my room,” said Rudy with a rather exaggerated yawn. One hand was in her pocket. “I’m feeling tired. All these late night chores have made me sleepy. I’ll see you when we clean the bathing rooms.” She strode off at an incredibly fast pace, back towards the orphanage.

Treena had a look of suspicion in her eyes. It was matched by Grim’s.

Finally, after Quinn finished adjusting his cap, he caught up to them.

“Where’s your sister?” he asked.

“She’s not my sister,” muttered Grim. “And she’s gone back to her room.”

“Oh,” he said. “You know, you needn’t concern yourself with what happened back there. I’m sure many commoners make mistakes. Perhaps I should have pointed out to you where you were failing.”

Then Grim saw Scarlet inch towards him along the floor. Her head was lowered, but he could see that the color of her eyes was slightly different — a darker red.

“Stay away from me,” he said, and stormed away.

Chapter 13

The following day, just after a dinner that was referred to as brawn ― a gelatinous mixture made from boiling a pig’s head and feet and letting it cool into a jelly-like substance, Grim sat in Treena and Rudy’s room, relishing his respite from Quinn. It finally gave him the opportunity to mention what he had witnessed outside the orphanage with Madam Adelaide.

“The bird sounds like a Razorbill,” Treena said, “but the color is wrong. They’re black. And if they have a mechanical eye, they’re used as watchers.”

“Watchers?”

“To keep the peace,” she said. “Each city has them to alert the constables. They’re even used as spies. Lord Victor has them all over. Really, it could be anyone’s. Even from the Southlands.”

That reminded him. “We still need to learn more about these Southlands because we know little of the place we keep telling people we’re from.”

“Actually,” said Treena, “it’s good that people think you’re from the south. They speak with a strange accent ― like yours.”

“I speak with an accent?”

Treena nodded. “You all do.”

Rudy lifted her eyebrows.

At that point Quinn paraded in and Grim struggled not to roll his eyes.

“Indeed,” he said with the pompous tone he used when he was looking down his nose at them. “It’s a dialect rather typical of the Southlands.”

How much had he overheard?

“Have you ever been there?” Rudy asked.

Quinn shook his head. “Travel to the Southlands? How absurd! We have servants for that.”

 “Well since you’ve never been there, you don’t know for sure, do you?” Rudy said in a manner that was far too polite.

Quinn shrugged. “Well, I’ll just have to go and inquire about the Southlands,” he commented with a twinkle of mischief in his eye. He marched out of the room.

Treena got up and closed the door.

“How much do you know about the Southlands?” she asked.

Grim and Rudy shook their heads. “Nothing.”

Treena scowled. “That’s not good. You need to get some books from the Library. There might be something there. And you better get there before Quinn starts asking questions that you can’t answer.”

“How am I going to get in there?” Grim asked. “That’s for the students.”

“Doesn’t Master Cobblepot send you in there?”

He pulled out a small piece of paper that the old man had given him. It was written permission to let Grim in to take out books. “Yes.”

“Then if anyone asks, tell them you were told to get some books for him.”

Grim looked out the window at the setting sun. “How long do we have?”

Treena joined him. “Long enough to at least find some books and bring them back here. I’ll help.”

Rudy nodded and yawned. “I’ll stay here. I don’t want to go anywhere near the Library. Madam Tyne has been looking for me since I mixed up the titles on some of the books. How was I supposed to know that Poy Son’s Lime and Its Pickled Juices belongs in the alchemical section.” She paused. “But pickled limes might not be right. It’s kind of disgusting.” Rudy stuck out her tongue.

“Wait a minute,” Grim said. “Say that again.”

She looked at him and shrugged. “Poy Son’s Lime and Its Pickled Juices,” she repeated.

Grim repeated it to himself.

Poy Son’s Lime and Its Pickled Juices. Poy Son’s Lime and Its Pickled Juices
.

He swapped in the letter ‘F’ for ‘P’ in pickled. Rudy was infamous for that.

Poy Son’s Lime and Its Fickled Juices.

He looked at Rudy. “You mean Poison Slime and Its Fickle Uses?”

She puckered her lips. “Ah, that might be it! I was hungry at the time, so maybe that’s why I thought of pickles. Madam Tyne has wanted me to dust out the entire Library since, including the basement. It’s creepy down there.”

“We’re going to have to work on your reading,” Grim said and left with Treena.

They swept through the halls to the Library. The corridors were mostly deserted, with the exception of Dorian and Valeria whispering as they strolled ahead of them. They waited for them to pass into another hallway before they continued.

The Library, too, was deserted, with the exception of beak-nosed Madam Tyne; Keeper of the Books. She eyed them through a glass monocle that appeared as if it were a permanent part of her face, as was her scowl.

“Orphans,” she muttered.

Before she could say anything further, Grim held up Master Cobblepot’s pass.