Mearsies Heili Bounces Back (18 page)

“I can’t sleep yet. I keep seeing those horrible
goggle-eyes. That Shnit is the creepiest sneeble I ever saw in my life. He makes
Kwenz seem like ... like ... well, not like a friend,  but—”

“Not as threatening?”

‘Yeah. The way he stared at me, like he
recognized
me. Or—or was almost able to recognize me.”

“That’s weird,” Clair said, her upper lip wrinkling. “That’s
almost as creepy as everything else about him.”

“Who could he mean? What could
it
mean?”

“I don’t know, but one thing is clear: he knows a lot more
about us now. This is not at all a good thing.”

“No. So tomorrow, while you fix my ring, we start
practicing. Speaking of practice, we ran smash into Jilo and his creeps on our
way in. Wow, were they surprised to see us. Our being sent far away has to be a
plan they flubbed up, but he called it a summons spell.”

“A summons spell? Maybe that’s something Shnit demanded of
his brother,” Clair said, frowning. “In case Puddlenose was seen. It is
wonderful that they did not recognize him, but that won’t be true anymore.”

I’d been elated, but my good mood popped like a balloon
meeting a pin. “Of course. Jilo probably galloped straight back to report our
being home—and Kwenz will make sure to send a detailed description of
Puddlenose. Ugh! Shnit will be extra mad that he had him, then he got away!”

“He is extra mad all the time anyway, from what I can tell.
Anyway, as for us here, the girls have often seen Jilo and his cronies poking
around in the forest.”

“That can’t possibly be good, either. They don’t want to
burn it down, or cut it, do they?”

“I don’t know. It could be that they’re looking for our
hideout, like you guessed, or even to see if you had returned. Kwenz
communicates with the Auknuges—oh! I can’t believe I didn’t tell you! What with
your trip—”

“That’s it.” I smacked my hands together, then explained
what I’d vowed about lock-picking and the like. “If we’re going to be coming up
against all these villains, we need more tricks,” I said.

“I agree.”

“So what was that about PJ?”

Clair’s eyes went wide. “I still can’t believe I didn’t tell
you. Well, it’s been so long, and we wanted to catch up on your story ... but
Fobo is gone.”

“Gone?”

“Yes.”

“Like ... gone for good?”

“She is back with her brother, in Elchnudaeb.”

“PJ, too?”

“And all his toady friends. Remember I told you I expected
the Wood Guild from Sartor?”

“Yes.”

“They came to demand my explanation of why an entire forest had
been cut down. I told them that Glotulae did it, after she took over that land.
They wanted to know then why it had not been reported, as it violated all the
rules of living in the world. I explained about my mother, and me becoming
queen after all this happened, and they asked for corroboration from Ka Nos of
Seram Aru. And then ... they left.”

“And?”

“The next thing I saw was, a huge wagon train going north
toward the border. That was the Auknuges. They told me that the area is to be
left to heal.”

“So the Squashed Wedding Cake is to become a ghost town?”

“I don’t know about ghost towns. That land is again part of
Mearsies Heili. But no one will settle there.”

“Hurray!” I yelled.

And went to bed smiling.

To celebrate being back, we played a big game of hide and
seek the next day, after our practice, only Faline wrecked it by laughing at
Puddlenose, who was wearing that plumed hat when he was It. He found her, and
since we were playing a team game, that meant her team lost.

To prevent a big argument our first day back (it was hot, so
Dhana was in a Mood, and Irene was still sour about having been left out of the
adventure) I said, “Let’s go see the deserted Squashed Wedding Cake.”

So we did. The town was pretty well stripped bare—right down
to the stone. All the wood was gone. The buildings were odd, seen this way.
Skeletal. Stone is the bone of buildings.

Diana said, “I’ve seen Wood Guild badges on some of the
wagons coming through our forest.”

“They must be sending people to reclaim the wood,” Seshe
said. “Excellent.”

We passed the last of the houses, and stopped in shock.
There was the big square, and beyond, the Squashed Wedding Cake. It was a trash
heap. Stuff lay everywhere—silk cushions, ruined in rain, broken furniture,
dishes, everything. But all over the place were people picking things up,
shaking them out, sometimes talking, sorting, and loading wagons.

“It’s like ants,” Faline said in surprise.

“The materials were good ones,” Irene said. “That pretty
honey-colored stone that made the ugly daisies in the floor—if you took that
away, and scraped off the orange lacquer, it could be pretty in a walkway.”

Irene was the one who paid most attention to things like
fashion and taste.

“You’re right,” I said. “I’m going to tell Clair, but I bet
she won’t mind this. In fact, it’s probably a good thing.”

Seshe smiled. “And when it is done, I hope the Wood Guild
returns to reseed what was once the North Forest. I would like to see that.”

We agreed, and returned.

I reported to Clair about the scavengers, and she grinned. “They
aren’t living there, so the Wood Guild people are happy. And all the things the
Auknuges spoiled will be used again, eventually, in other form.”

I nodded and left, thinking about that on my way down.

I mean, I often think about these records—who will read them
in the future? A kid? A grownup? Why are they reading my words? What memories
do they have that are different than mine, or the same?

That means there’s a kind of agreement between us, even if
we never get to meet: here’s me writing the words down for you, and you picking
them up and reading them. I’m trying to pick what’s best of the story of my
life, all our lives, and you’re taking time out of your own life story to tuck
mine in with your own memories.

Well, for the first time I thought about all that stuff in
the Squashed Wedding Cake. Things have their own story. The Squashed Wedding
Cake was just there, when I first saw it. That is, people had been busy adding
statues and stuff, but when I saw it, things were pretty much already there.
Yet lots of hands had made all that stuff. Had they liked cutting that
honey-colored stone into the big orange daisy shapes? Had they talked and
laughed while making the floor? Had they liked looping lace over marble? Maybe
all those things would be taken away, now, and to form a different story in
different buildings.

Well, I don’t know where that thought’s going, just as I
don’t know where all that wood and rock and silk is going!

o0o

So time passed, and I made sure we practiced. As usual, we
were great at first, then we’d skip days when a patrol took an extra-long time,
or the weather was terrible, or something else was going on. I longed to try my
Shoe. We spotted Jilo, and I wanted to throw mud and pies at them to make sure
they stayed away, but Clair had said to leave them alone unless they were
inside the forest and poking around, or wrecking something.

Since they stayed at the very edge of our territory, we just
watched from a distance, without letting them see us.

Puddlenose got restless. He kept saying how fine it was that
we’d given him a room in the Junky, but more and more he was gone from it. He
never crabbed at Clair about how slow it was to find that magic. Puddlenose,
like Clair, just didn’t crab. But one day we turned up for breakfast, and he
was gone.

Clair said when she came in, “My cousin went off to see if
he can learn swordfighting somewhere, and how to be a caravan leader.”

“He’ll be back.” Sherry laughed. “I wonder how much of those
Lord Snord things he’ll still have?”

“I vote for those silly boots.” Faline stomped around in a
circle. “I wanted them!”

“They were way too big.” Irene rolled her eyes.

“Yeah! Think how funny they would be in a play!”

“I like that big hat with the plumes.” Sherry fluffed her
fingers above her curls. “I wish I’d gotten one.”

“I’m disappointed about my sash plan,” I said.

“Well, we could always travel to Elchnudaeb and sneak in and
see what it’s like there,” Irene suggested. “Hey, especially if Fobo is no longer
the ‘queen.’”

“Not a bad idea.” Diana tipped her head.

The rest agreed.

o0o

So anyway, time did what time does, without our paying much
attention. No worrying about birthdays making a teenager out of me, ha ha! The
weather turned colder, and some big storms came through. First the forest
turned a glorious color, and then another storm knocked all the leaves into
scarlet and flame and yellow and rust and amber piles that we played in for
days before they darkened into soggy mulch, and the ground began to get frosty.
It was time for shoes.

Then snow season came, and the days were darker. We spent
more time up at the White Palace, except when we patrolled. And we did patrol,
because we spotted the Chwahir more often.

Just after New Year’s, Clair traveled around to the
different mayors to see how everything was. They reported things quiet—except
for Klutz and Id, who’d spotted Chwahir riding around.

Clair was visited by Guild people. One evening she joined us
in the Junky, grinning.

“What’s funny?” I asked. “Fobo turned into a cactus?”

It was an old joke, so I was surprised when Clair said, “Actually,
it’s about Fobo. Line reports from the Torns that people in Elchnudaeb are
unhappy. First, there is a very very large penalty the king must pay to the
Wood Guild. They have to pay for our forest to be reseeded.”

“Hurray!” we cheered.

“But Fobo does not seem to care. Her brother has to worry
about the cost, it seems, while she keeps trying to take over the kingdom. That
is, she wants more taxes so she can build her own palace, and people don’t bow
enough, and she doesn’t have enough servants, and she keeps him from marrying.”

“Hah!”

After we’d cackled over that, someone said, “Let’s have a
story, CJ!”

“A contest!”

It was definitely play, skit, and story time. As winter wore
on we got involved in stories that lasted days, and we held contests as well as
planned and performed skits. But every so often the others just liked a short,
ridiculous story, and those were either my department or Faline’s. And she
didn’t tell stories so much as jokes. So I did the stories. And what could be
more ridiculous than Earth, especially stories about Earth TV?

Spring came at last, and the land budded and blossomed. But
cold rains kept us in a lot. Then came a week long storm. Everyone’s temper had
worn thin (except Dhana’s) so we mostly did funny plays and stories.

I wrote up some of my dumb stories as if they were real,
because what made the girls love them most was the fact that I put them into
the story. I’m keeping this one partly because the girls loved it (I told
different versions when different girls wanted to be in it) and partly because
the night after I told this version, the next big adventure hit.

We gathered down in the Junky, hot chocolate in hand and a
bowl of whipped cream in the center of the rug, rain roaring on the ground
overhead.

o0o

So Clair sent a message on the M.P.

Girls: Earth is in big trouble. There’s a master villain named
Tinfinger who is going to take over the planet. Will you go defeat this
terrible villain?

I turned to the girls. “Who wants to visit Earth, and defeat
a terrible villain named Tinfinger?”

“Do we get any help?” Seshe asked, amid the hoots and
hollers of the others.

I asked Clair, and read back the answer, “You will have the
aid of a secret organization of spies, called U.N.C.L.E.. Who wants in on this
adventure? All right, Gwen, Diana, Irene, and Faline, get ready.”

“Hey, why not me?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been in one of your stories for a
thousand years!”

“I’m only picking those who didn’t get stuck on the last
one, plus Gwen, because she hasn’t caught up yet. So be quiet and listen.”

The four girls and I got ready to leave, when another note
came from Clair:

By the way, the villain is part of a secret sinister
organization called T.H.R.U.S.H. Remember that.

Before we went through the World Gate, I read it out to the
girls, and everybody committed it to memory: “Thrush, thrush, thrush,” except
for Faline, who kept saying, “Smush, Grush, Splush.”

“And I would, too!” Faline yelled.

“We KNOW,” Irene groaned. “Quiet!”

“I can’t help it, I just love it when she makes me talk
like me!”

While Faline was still muttering rhymes for T.H.R.U.S.H., I
used Clair’s special secret magical transfer, and we zapped down to Earth
through the World Gate, and ended up in an enormous city, with streets made of
cement—

“What’s cement again?” Dhana asked.

“It’s rock made into pancake batter and hardened into
shapes,” Diana snapped. “She told us that before.”

“I thought she was making that up.”

—and tall buildings all around that almost blocked the sky.
Everywhere beeped and blared long cars with fins on the backs to make them look
like rockets. The stink of diesel and car exhaust and cigarettes made the air
thick and blue-gray.

“It was too late,” Irene intoned, making gagging noises. “The
villains already took over, and they were poisoning the people!”

“Nope, that’s just traffic and grownups,” Gwen said, from
experience. “Soon’s you turn sixteen you have to smoke and drive.”

“AHEM!” I warned, giving Irene the Hairy Fish-eye.

I said to my team of girl spies, “C’mon, there’s a clothing
store. Let’s go in and pick outfits so we can disguise ourselves as Earth kids.”