Ozark Trilogy 3: And Then There'll Be Fireworks (13 page)

“Sterling,” said Granny Gableframe, “I have reason to believe you’re trying to mindspeak poor Veritas Truebreed, and I’m here to tell you that if that’s what you’re up to you’re pouring sand down a rathole. He’s curled up in a hole in the wall like a puking babe, howling and begging to be shot or poisoned at once, he doesn’t care which, and a less promising mode of communicating I’ve never come across in all my born days! Now if you have something you’d like to get across to the Magician of Rank, m’dear Mule, I’d suggest you turn down the power somewhat more than a tad. You are addressing a human male, not Responsible of Brightwater, and he is most surely not up to taking in what you are putting out. Do you hear me. Sterling?”

The Mule gave her a look down its nose, and raised its ears one notch, and the Granny said it all over again, with more emphasis in the hard places.

“Tone it down!” she admonished Sterling, winding it up. “Tone it down or you might as well leave off entirely! That man’s mind is frail as a flower petal up there, you can’t just go banging around in it like some kind of natural disaster!”

Sterling whickered and ducked her head, and the Mules all around joined in.

“You suppose, Granny Hazelbide,” said Gableframe then, out of breath entirely, “you suppose that means we got it across7”

“If we didn’t, we probably can’t,” came the answer, “and the only way I know to find out is to go see what’s left of old Veritas Truebreed.” She brushed down her skirts and sneezed twice at the dust and remarked on stablemaids and how they got lazier every year, and Gableframe did the same, and then they looked at each other.

“You ready?” said Hazelbide.

“I’m not ready to go out and walk under that
thing
hanging in the air over my head; nor am I ready to see every last soul running around and screaming like their tails was caught in a door when it hasn’t yet done any of ‘em any harm
what
soever ... and I for sure don’t want to go stare at that pitiful excuse for a Magician of
Rank
. But I will, Hazelbide, I will. Let’s get at it.”

“Fool Mules,” Granny Hazelbide grumbled. “
Now
what?”

And all the way back to the Castle door and up the steps, she grumbled. It was one thing for the Mules to mindspeak the Magician of Rank—the Magicians had always known the Mules were telepathic, and vice versa—but the
Grannys
weren’t supposed to know all that. But Granny Hazelbide was ready to bet twelve dollars to a dillyblow that when the Mules
did
turn down their power of projection to accommodate the limitations of Veritas Truebreed’s mind the very first thing they’d done was inform him that the Grannys had told them to do so. And
that
was going to be a fine kettle of fish.

Things were a mite less chaotic ... the townspeople had recovered from their first shock at the sight of the giant crystal and were gathered in clumps, talking and shaking their heads. This was not exactly the normal order of the day, but the Grannys found it an improvement on the original running around in circles and screaming. They hurried past a group of Attendants and servingmaids that looked ready to head them off, and went straight on up to Veritas Truebreed to see if their trip to the stables had been a mission of mercy or a red herring.

They found the Magician of Rank much the worse for wear, white as a sheet and soaked with cold sweat, still rubbing his head and trembling all over. But he was able to talk.

“According to the Mules,” he said gruffly when they came through his door, “I’ve you to thank for an end to that unspeakable torture. And I
will
thank you—because if it had not stopped I would be dead—and then I would appreciate an explanation.”

Granny Gableframe didn’t miss a beat. She reminded him that the Mules’ telepathic ability was a pretty open secret after all these years. And she reminded him that
he
had been the one bellowing “Mules!” and they’d only followed directions. “And as for mindspeech,” she finished up crisply, “we Grannys don’t have it, so you needn’t go searching for revelations there. We went down to the stable and whacked the Mules over the head and told them—out loud—that if they were trying to talk to you they were hollering themselves into oblivion ... and then we came back to see what happened. You appear to be recovered— “

“I will
never
be recovered from that, thank you very much!”

“Never mind, Veritas Truebreed, you are at least on your feet and talking ‘stead of howling, and we’ll accept that for now. The question is: what have the Mules been telling you?”

The Magician of Rank swallowed and stammered, and Granny Gableframe threatened to kick him with her shoe the way Granny Hazelbide had.

“Speak up,” she said, infuriated. “Time’s a-wasting! The Mules never tried mindspeaking you before, and there’s never been a gigantic humungus
bod
acious chandelier-bobble hanging up in the air before, and I for one am inclined to believe there’s got to be a connection! What did the Mules want with you?”

“It’s a wild tale,” said Veritas Truebreed.

“It’s a wild
sight
,” said Granny Hazelbide. “You take a look?”

“I looked. I saw ... it. One of the basic primordial shapes.”

“Primordial shapes be hanged, do you know anything
use
ful?”

“Careful, Hazelbide, you’ll have a heart attack,” cautioned Granny Gableframe. “And a lot of help that’ll be.”

“Well, the man’s
mad
dening!”

“And if I had four wheels I’d be a tin lizzy. Calm down and let him talk ... he’ll get around to it. Eventually.”

He did.

“It seems,” he said slowly, “according to the Mules, it seems that thing you refer to as a chandelier-bobble is a kind of mechanism for the focusing of energy. It pulls in energy and concentrates it ... and stores it.”

“To do what with?”

“Just a minute ...” Veritas Truebreed wiped his brow with the back of a shaking hand. “I’ve got to sit down.”

Granny Gableframe clucked her tongue and told him not to be such a sissy, but he sat down all the same.

“The Mules tell me,” he said when he was settled, “that there is a group of planets not too far away from here that is called the Garnet Ring; and that their representatives—something called the Out-Cabal, and according to the Mules you’ll be able to fill me in on that, and I will assuredly be interested in knowing
why
—that their representatives have been keeping an eye on us for some time. The crystal out there is sent by the Garnet Ring, on the basis of information reported back by this ... Out-Cabal ... and the Mules say there’s one just like it over each of the Castles of Ozark.”

“Ohhhh dear!” cried Granny Hazelbide. “Oh my! That is a predicament, for sure and for certain!”

“Indeed it is,” echoed Granny Gableframe. “They tell you anything more, Veritas Truebreed?”

“I got the distinct impression,” he snapped at her, “that you two knew more about this than they did.”

“Not accurate,” said Gableframe. “Not precisely.”

“
Isn’t
it? According to the Mules— “

“You believe a passel of pack animals, Veritas, or you believe two respectable Ozark Grannys?”

“After what they did to me? Those ‘pack animals’ you mention? I believe
them!
” The Magician of Rank was furious, and beginning to feel more himself. “It’s more than clear that some very important information has been kept from the Magicians of Rank by the Grannys of Ozark for hundreds of years—information that might well have been crucial to the running of this planet—and I want you to know that I resent it, and that
steps will be taken!
”

“You don’t say?” Granny Gableframe said. “What do you have in what’s left of your mind, Mister Highandmighty? You without so much as a Housekeeping Spell on hand! You get your powers back ... such as they were, such
as they
were ... and then you can prattle about taking steps. In the meantime, you mind your mouth.”

“
You
are an unpleasant old woman,” said the Magician of Rank.

“Grannys are supposed to be unpleasant old women,” retorted Gableframe. “You want something young and willing, you don’t go looking for a Granny. Now what I’d like to know is how long that thing’s going to be a part of our sky out there and what it’s intended to do to us. If you know, we’d appreciate you spitting it out.”

And then she muttered, “Oh, law, it heard me!” as a sudden pulsing ... not exactly a sound, more a kind of powerful vibration that thrummed in the stone walls and floors ... began. “I suppose that’s it, warming up,” she said.

“I suppose so too,” said Veritas Truebreed. “How would I know? Until this accursed day, I had never heard of an Out-Cabal. Nor a Garnet Ring. You ladies have minded
your
mouths admirably.”

“It was our duty to do so,” said Granny Gableframe. “Quit your complaining over things you admit you don’t know any more about than the doorknob does.”

“The Mules say,” Veritas Truebreed sighed, “that this planet is about to be taken over by the Garnet Ring. We are, they tell me, now ‘eligible’—that’s the way they put it—to be so treated. The crystals will remain where they are, doing whatever that is they’re doing, until they are fully charged. And then, I am assured, we will be unable to resist this Garnet Ring. And I suppose it’s true?”

“Could we do anything like those crystals?” asked the Grannys in one voice.

“They might could be only an illusion,” added Granny Hazelbide. “I’ve seen you Magicians of Rank do some fancy things along that line, in my time.”

Veritas Truebreed shook his head. “The Mules tell me they’re real, and that they’re as powerful as the Out-Cabal says they are, and that they can do what they claim. Now
you
tell
me
if the Mules are likely to know what they’re talking about.”

“Well, it’s misery,” said Granny Gableframe, “Just plain misery—but we have no reason to think they don’t. And plenty to think they do.”

“Then we know where we are,” he said wearily.

“Do we know how much time we have?”

“We have whatever time it takes until those things are ‘fully charged’ like I said before. That’s all the Mules knew.”

“Well,” asked Granny Hazelbide, “what do you plan to do?”

“Me? I plan to go lie down and not move my head until the Out-Cabal comes to cut it off.”

“My,
that’s
impressive!” scoffed the Granny. “You expect a medal for that, do you?”

“Be reasonable!” shouted the Magician of Rank, and winced at what it did to his aching head. “As you so politely pointed out to me, not three minutes ago, I haven’t a Housekeeping Spell to my name. What do you
expect
me to do?”

“There are a lot of people out there,” said the Granny, “as are frightened half to death. They’re not as accustomed to wonders and marvels as you are, not by a long sight. And they respect you, magic or no magic. I’ll thank you to go get on the comset and spread the word—in some suitable form. I don’t believe I’d tell them what you just told us, not quite yet. Just get on there and tell them that there’s no reason to be afeared right at this very minute, which is true. And that we’ll get back to them, which is true. And that we’re working on the problem—which is true. I do believe you could handle that, Veritas, and I believe you’re obliged to.
Right
now!” She did not say scat, out of politeness.

On his way out the door, moving as fast as his condition would allow, and making other allowances for the unsteady feeling the whole Castle had with that low vibration running all through it, he very nearly ran right over Silverweb of McDaniels.

“Silverweb— “ he began, but the Grannys, right behind him, gave him a push.

“Not
now
, Veritas Truebreed Motley, not
now!
” fussed Granny Hazelbide. “Whatever Silverweb of McDaniels needs, it won’t be anything as concerns you, and you’re needed to stop the panic out there in the town and all around the countryside. We Grannys’ll see to Silverweb!”

But Silverweb needed no seeing to at all. She was as radiant as if she’d been living on strawberries and thick cream, as beautiful as ever, and as serene as if this were the most ordinary of days. She was there, she announced, to get Troublesome—and the Grannys realized they’d seen no sign of Troublesome of Brightwater through all of this, which was becoming of her and showed a proper consideration—and then Silverweb went on to say that she and Troublesome were going to take Responsible of Brightwater out into the desert of Marktwain to the sacred spring.

“We’ll hitch a Mule to a wagon,” said Silverweb, her voice like rich melted butter running over in the dish, “and spread it with a comforter and a pillow to make Responsible lie easy. And Troublesome and I will lay Responsible inside, and we will take her away.”

“But, child,” hazarded Granny Hazelbide, touching the arm of the creature—as the Attendant had said, not a child, and not precisely a woman, either, but the Granny had the privilege of her years— “this is no time for such a trek! Don’t you know what’s happened?”

“What has happened,” said Silverweb of McDaniels, “is that the Holy One has spoken to me and told me that I must get Troublesome, and that she and I must take Responsible out into the desert. That is all that I need to know, Granny Hazelbide.”

“But— “

“There’s Troublesome now,” added Silverweb. “Right on time.”