Prospero Lost: Prospero's Daughter, Book I (42 page)

I sat down at my own desk and pulled up the notes that Mustardseed, our vice president of Priority Contracts and the de facto head of the company when I was unavailable, had written thus far. Of all the Aerie Ones, Mustard-seed was the most competent at interacting with the human world, and his sharp tongue could keep our supernatural employees in line. He was invaluable; Prospero, Inc. would be lost without him.

Mustardseed reported, among other things, that our current inventory included only a few ounces of phoenix ash. I was not surprised. The stuff was volatile, liable to burst into flame, not the sort of substance we kept stocked in our warehouses.

Without warning, Windflower was standing at my elbow, a disconcerting habit of hers. She was clad in a poppy red Grecian dress with a high golden waist and gold trim along the V-shaped neckline. Her pale blond hair was piled up in the same Grecian style I often wore. Windflower had been my assistant in company matters well before she took on a fleshly body. Apparently, she had picked up her fashion sense from me.

Windflower handed me a steaming mug from which issued the heavenly rich aroma of my favorite Peruvian coffee. I accepted it gratefully and held it in both hands, inhaling.

Her voice rang out cheerfully, “This is what I have so far, Miss Prospero: upon rising from the ashes, the young phoenix embalms the ashes of its parent/former self in myrrh and brings them to one of three sacred depositories: the ancient city of Heliopolis, a hidden valley in the Kunlun Mountains, or a cavern deep beneath the city hall in Tempe, Arizona. For obvious reasons, we usually retrieved our phoenix ash from Arizona. However, that supply now lies scattered across Interstate 10.”

“Is there any left at the depository?” I asked, taking a sip of my coffee. It was hot, but not too hot, with the perfect amount of sugar and cream. “Can we gather more from the Tempe location?”

Windflower shook her head vigorously, causing the violet pasqueflower-shaped bells on her hair comb to jiggle and ring. “Not enough to fill one drum, much less six”

“Six drums! That’s quite a bit of ash!”

“That was the renegotiated amount after the disaster of 1980. Most of the other volcanoes only receive a few ounces.”

“So, what’s our next best choice, Heliopolis?” I leaned back in my chair. “The new one or the old one?”

“The old. It is now the Tell-Hisn district, just outside of Cairo.”

Glancing at my screen, I paged up until I found the reference to Tell-Hisn I had just scanned. “According to Mustardseed’s report, it’s the largest depository of phoenix ash in the world, and we have operatives in the area. He says that we provide ash from the Heliopolis depository to Mount Vesuvius, Mount Etna, Mount Fuji, Mount Paricutin, and Krakatoa. I wonder why we haven’t used it for St. Helens before?”

“I can answer that, Miss Prospero,” Windflower said quickly. She was a veritable encyclopedia when it came to Prospero, Inc. matters, which was, of course, why I had chosen her for my assistant. She had worked for the goddess Rumour before Father captured her people. “The Tell-Hisn cache is frequented mainly by Bennu. The Egyptian Bennu produces a higher quality ash than the American Phoenix.”

“Ah! I remember. Father feared that if we ever provided the salamanders of Mount St. Helens with Bennu ash, they would come to expect a similar quality of ash in the future.”

“Do you wish to discontinue that policy, Miss Prospero?”

I considered. The Egyptian ash was much more expensive to retrieve than its American variety, and, considering the amount of ash the St. Helens salamanders had demanded after the last fiasco, the cost would be exorbitant.
On top of that, there were the dangers of trying to transport six barrels of volatile ash across the Atlantic on a regular basis.

“Not unless it turns out to be absolutely necessary,” I concluded. “Where was the last site? The Kunlun Mountains. In Northern China?”

“South of the Gobi Desert. Phoenixes live in deserts, of course. Their ash caches are near the world’s great deserts.”

“Is there one in the Australian Outback?” I asked hopefully. Australia was much easier to do business with than Mainland China.

Windflower shook her head, jingling. “Phoenixes are not native to Australia, though there are reports that Xi Wang-Mu has tried to introduce them.”

“Xi Wang-Mu? Was that the Chinese fellow who slew the flood dragon?”

“No, that was Lu Yan. Xi Wang-Mu is a woman.”

“Oh! Of course, the woman with the phoenix! One of the Chinese Immortals. I had tea with her during the Centennial Masquerade that was held in Cathay. The beginning of the eighteenth century, I think it was.” I thought for a moment. “Doesn’t she live in a cave in the mountains, somewhere in China?”

“In the Kunluns,” Windflower replied with a smile. “Well that’s helpful,” I mused. “Now, we just have to figure out how to get the ash out of China.”

“And to discover what she wants,” Windflower added.

I shook my head. “No. She is a compassionate soul. If she asks for anything at all, it will be for someone else.”

“Shall I dispatch one of my people to speak with her?”

“Yes. Wait, no. It will take three days for an Aerie One to get there. Have a pilot fly the messenger to Siberia or South Korea. It will be quicker from there.”

Windflower toyed with the anemone-shaped brooch fastened at her right shoulder, her eyes lowered. “That’s embarrassing.”

“It’s an emergency. The ash arrived merely hours over the deadline back in 1980, and the salamanders blew up nearly half the mountain. We can’t take any chances.”

“If you insist,” she sighed. She whisked to her desk to give the order. I took advantage of her departure to drink my coffee, but she was back, comb bells chiming, before I finished swallowing my first sip.

“Done, Miss Prospero,” she declared. “Now, once we contact Xi Wang-Mu, assuming she’s willing to help us, how are we going to get the ash out?
No lone Aerie One is going to be strong enough to fly six barrels across mainland China. Even a group of us could not do it. You would need a major storm for that.”

“Ah, now there’s the rub,” I pressed my fingertips together.

There were a number of methods of extracting the ash. We could ship it, but to get it through customs, we would need the help of Cornelius, who would have to travel to China in person. The
Staff of Persuasion
only worked within the sound of his natural voice. Under the circumstances, he would go if I asked him to, but China was a tricky place to visit, even for us. I was worried that by the time I reached him and he arranged for a flight, it might be too late.

Ulysses could get there and back in nearly no time, assuming he had Cornelius’s help to make it from the city of Datong, where the
Staff of Transportation
had previously touched the earth, to the Kunlun Mountains. But I had no idea how to reach Ulysses.

All other methods at my disposal were too slow, which meant there was only one option left. I was going to have to deal with the Black Market.

“
LADY
Miranda, what a pleasure,” purred Alberich of the Nibelungs from the other side of the phone line. “We are always eager to do favors for Handmaidens of Eurynome.”

Silently, I cursed myself for not requesting that Mustardseed make this call. Mustardseed was a wizard at negotiations, but even more important, he could have offered a variety of enticements. As soon as the King of the Nibelungs heard the word “Handmaiden,” the options collapsed to a single currency, one I was extremely loath to spend.

“Alberich, a pleasure as always,” I replied crisply. “How is your kingdom under the earth?”

“Not as rich as it once was when I had my ring, my lovely ring. Have you seen it?”

“No. Is it lost again? I am sorry to hear that.”

“A thief crept into the heart of my palace and made off with it,” grumbled the sovereign of the dwarves. “I blame Mime. I’ve had him clapped in irons for the last half-dozen decades, but he will not confess. But, enough of me. What may I do for you, Lady Miranda?”

“Nothing large, a trifle really.” I kept my voice light. Though I needed the ash as soon as possible, the last thing I wanted was for the Nibelung king to discern that this was an urgent matter. He would instantly quadruple the
price. Better to offer an incentive to have the matter expedited once an initial price had been settled upon. “I need some goods moved and I was wondering what you would charge to have your boys do it.”

“Prospero Transport Company wishes us to move goods for them?” Alberich chuckled. “What is the world coming to? You run one of the best transportation systems on the planet. Why not move it yourself?”

The question stumped me, but I recovered quickly.

“We had a little . . . mishap with one of our trucks. I wish to replace the lost goods without my brothers learning about it.”

“Of course,” Alberich replied smoothly. “You know we live to serve in such delicate situations.”

“Wonderful,” I replied airily. “I need six drums of phoenix ash moved from the Kunlun Mountains in Cathay to our headquarters, here in the New World.”

“Six drums of . . .” he sputtered. “Six
drums
?” Regaining his composure, he continued. “You do know that stuff is liable to burst into flames if shaken or dropped?”

“I do.”

“Moving hazardous materials will increase the price, of course,” the dwarf king said glibly. “And then there are the added handling fees for engaging the services of the Cheng-huang, our representatives in that area. They are efficient and thorough, mind you, but too many years of service to the Jade Emperor have made them sticklers for paperwork. Many forms to fill out, a nuisance, you understand.”

“Of course,” I replied blithely. “What will the charge be?”

Alberich muttered, as if engaged in some massive calculation. Eventually, he cleared his throat.

“Three ounces of Water of Life seems like a fair price, doesn’t it?”

“Three
ounces
!” I cried, outraged. I had expected him to open by asking for Water, but this was ridiculous! I could save a hundred and twenty lives or summon as many deities for such a price. “A fair price if I were asking you to deliver me the moon!”

And so the dickering began. I offered all sorts of treasures, from rubies from the river nymphs of the Ganges to a box of stardust I once brought back from the World’s End, but while he lowered the amount he was asking for, Alberich held fast to his request for Water of Life.

Eventually, he lowered his demand to six drops, one for each barrel. I pursed my lips and considered. I could afford to part with six drops. It
would mean that I had to return to the Well at the World’s End one year sooner, but more than six people might be killed if we did not receive the phoenix dust on time. So, on the surface, the bargain seemed worthwhile.

What troubled me was the precedent. Were it to get out that Prospero, Inc. was willing to pay for services in Water of Life, even once, our careful network, through which supernatural entities helped supply each other’s needs, would evaporate. No longer willing to settle for dryad bark, fairy dust, and black blood of the earth, every deva, sylph, and djinn would demand Water of Life. Instead of facilitating trade and good relations between magical creatures, we would find ourselves in the business of bribing them from our own pocket.

Even this might not be the worst thing, were I a Sibyl and able to create Water of Life at will. But I was still a Handmaiden, and now that I was running Prospero, Inc., it was getting harder and harder for me to take off the year and a day necessary to make the journey to the World’s End. It would be harder still, I realized with a pang, if Father were not around to keep an eye on the company while I was away.

It sat ill upon my shoulders to trust the fate of the company to the discretion of the King of the Nibelungs. No, I needed to find another way.

Nestling the phone on my shoulder, I scribbled a note to Windflower, asking her to run down to records and bring back the folder on the Nibelungs. I could not find it in my computer, which meant it was among the thousands of files that had not yet been scanned into the system. Then, I stalled for time, asking Alberich about his family.