The Madness Project (The Madness Method) (15 page)

She tried to get past him, planting a hand on his shoulder
and shoving as hard as she could, but the big red-head didn’t even twitch. 
Then his hand flashed out and caught her arm.

“You want the coppers?  You want I should tell ‘em what you
did, so?”

I narrowed my eyes. 
No.  That can’t be what he means…

“Leave me alone.”  She moved closer to him, saying something
in his ear, and shoved him again.

I swallowed the last of my beer and set the tankard on the
wall.  Half of me wanted to try changing my face, so I could charge in and find
out what was going on.  Half of me wanted to do the same thing, only as
myself.  Doing something stupid on my birthday was tradition, after all, and
come tomorrow, Tarik Trabinis would be gone from Brinmark and all its scandal.

The other boy was in the mix now, holding Hayli by both
arms.  He had to be a good six inches shorter than the red-head, but he moved
with the lethal grace of a martial artist.  The way his face shifted by degrees
from threatening to suggestive to spiteful, I imagined he was trying to
persuade her of something.  Hayli put up a good fight, but I could see the
anger and desperate frustration burning in her eyes. 

Stars
, I thought, heaving a long sigh. 
I was just
begging for something like this to happen, wasn’t I?

I got up and made my way through the widening crowd.  For
once the ubiquitous guards had disappeared, which struck me as odd.  Usually
they were onto tramps like flies on dung, especially unruly tramps.

None of the three kids even glanced at me as I got near.  I
couldn’t tell what they were arguing about any more—it had long since left the
semi-rational place it began.

I grabbed the shorter boy by the arm.

He spun and swung so fast I barely ducked before his hand
caught my throat.  Somehow I’d thought he would be the easy one, but I should
have known better.  I’d seen how he moved.  For a moment we stepped around each
other, watching, studying, waiting.  He had speed on his side, but I knew I had
an advantage in strength.  The next time his hand flew at me, I caught it and
grabbed, hard.  His eyes widened, his muscles tensed.

Alarm blazed in my mind.

I released his hand just before he tried to throw me, and in
the split second he took to realize he was off-balance, I aimed a wicked right
punch straight at his face.  Pain exploded through my hand, showering all the
way up my arm, but I had the brief satisfaction of watching him spin, stumble,
and hit the ground.  Then the other kid was on me, swinging at my head.

I ducked, aiming a blow at his stomach, but he struck my arm
aside and lunged to grab me in a bear-hold.  The calculated fight vanished;
instinct took over.  My knee slammed into him but the same moment I stumbled,
ears ringing and blood pounding across my vision from the kid’s fist on my
jaw.  Vaguely I realized I’d lost my hat, but the world spun too madly for me
to even see it.

“Anuk!” Hayli shouted.

Then another voice, deeper, “Break it up!  What’s the matter
with you?”

Light flashed off the steel shaft of a baton, waving
frighteningly close to my head, then a pair of policemen dove between us,
dragging us apart.  The red-head Anuk struggled for just a second, then
suddenly he stopped and looked at me long enough for that moment of
recognition.  He swore, and before the policeman could do a thing about it, he
jerked free and pelted into the crowd, hauling Jig along behind him.

“Bloody hell,” the police sergeant said, poised to chase
them down, but then he spotted Hayli and turned toward her instead.

“She’s just a bystander,” I said, probing my tender jaw. 
“Let her be.”

“Don’t tell me—”  His voice died as he saw me, and some
mixture of surprise and frustration flashed across his face.  But he just
saluted and said, “Your Highness.”

Heads turned at that, but both policemen moved together as
if to shield me from the view of the gossip-mongerers.

“Really, Sergeant,” I said.  I glanced at Hayli, and for
some reason I gave her a crooked smile and watched the blood drain from her
cheeks.  “This is hardly the worst thing you’ve caught me doing.”

“You’ll have to come with us,” the other policeman said,
fidgety and wide-eyed.

“I’d rather not.”

“I can’t just…”  The sergeant stared at me, his hands
tightening reflexively on his baton.  “You know I can’t just walk away.”

“No?  Forget you saw anything,” I said.  “It is my birthday,
after all.”

His lips twitched under his red mustache.  I knew I’d put
him in a sore spot—technically he couldn’t touch me, but now the whole crowd
had seen the fight and most of them hadn’t recognized me yet.  To them I’d be
just another trouble-maker who deserved to be marched off by the police, so the
constables couldn’t simply let me walk. 

Though, by the hushed muttering that circled around me, I
figured my anonymity would prove short-lived.  I bent and rescued my hat from
the slush, then lifted my hands in a shrug.

“Well, lead on, Sergeant.  Where do you want to take me?”

“Please, Your Highness.  Just…follow us a moment.”

They turned and strode off with me between them, through the
gaping and murmuring crowd, toward the security pavilion I’d passed on my way
in.  Several other policemen gathered inside, crowding around a coal brazier
for a few moments’ warmth before heading back to their patrol in the plaza.  My
two guards marched me toward a long table scattered with reports and a few
chairs—not near enough to the fire to get any warmth from it.  Some of the other
officers watched us curiously, but when the sergeant snapped his fingers they
turned purposefully away.

“If you would please sit, Your Highness,” the constable
said, and the sergeant gestured me to a chair.

I complied, trying not to smile.  It always amused me to see
how nervous they got when they had to talk to me.  They could never simply tell
me what to do, even when I knew I deserved to be treated like any other
delinquent.

“What was this about, now?” the sergeant asked.  “Did those
fellows attack you?”

“No,” I said blandly.  “I attacked them.”

The sergeant’s mustache twitched.  I leaned back, crossing
my ankles and keeping a steady gaze on his face.

“They were bothering someone,” I added.  “No one else was
around, so I thought I ought to defend her.  Suppose that was a mistake.”

“You defended someone who was in danger?” the constable
asked.

“I suppose we can’t fault you for that,” the sergeant said,
“even if it was rather indiscreet.  You really ought to have called on one of
us to help.  If anything had happened—”

“I’m sorry.  I don’t suppose I saw you at the time.”  I
leaned forward and said, “It’s been a long day.”

The constable choked on a cough.

“Terribly long,” the sergeant said, his face shifting to
realization.  “I’m so sorry about what happened this morning, Your Highness. 
Terribly sorry.  Can we do anything to help?”

I smiled faintly.  “You could let me go back to my party.”

The sergeant exchanged a glance with the constable, then
jerked his head.  The constable nodded and puffed up his chest, sending me his
smartest salute before strutting off to the other side of the tent.  I’d never
seen him before, not like the sergeant, so I imagined he’d be feeling a bit
proud that he’d gotten to help the sergeant deal with the unruly prince.

The sergeant sat down in the other chair, leaning onto his
knees to get a good look at me.

“Your Highness, I know I don’t have the right to say
anything to you…”

“Please,” I said.  “Say what you will.”

He cleared his throat and sat back.  “This is the third time
this month I’ve had to apprehend you for something.”

I waited, but he didn’t say anything else; he obviously
couldn’t think of how to proceed without accusing me or patronizing me.

“You’re asking what’s wrong with me?” I asked.  “Wondering
why any proper prince would want to go sticking his nose into trouble?”

“Now, I was a boy once too, not terribly long ago,” the
sergeant said, eyes glinting with a hidden smile.  “Boys are boys.  Doesn’t
change if there’s a crown on your head.  Not really.  I know all you noble kids
can stand straight and bow and say
yes-sir
when you have to, but that
doesn’t entirely change the blood, does it?”

I smiled; I couldn’t help it.  “Not at all.”

“As I see it,
who
you are—I mean, the prince—doesn’t
change
what
you are—a boy.  Just means you’ve got to fight harder than
most to make sure the world doesn’t notice when you fall.  If you’ll pardon me
saying it, Your Highness, it’s not about you.  It’s about
them
.  Your
family, the people of this city.  With the news and photographs we have these
days…the whole world is watching you.  Just remember that.”

I propped my elbow on the top of the chair and glanced away,
pressing the backs of my fingers against my mouth.  Yes, the whole world was
watching me.  And the world never let me forget it, either.  Though the
flatterers insisted that the people loved me, I knew they were always holding
me up to some standard I’d never be able to meet.

“Are we done here, Sergeant?” I asked, looking away.

He gave a rather disappointed little sigh.  “Yes, Your
Highness.  You’re free to go.  Just try not to get into any more trouble
tonight, all right?”

I got up without a word and pushed my way out of the tent. 
The crowd from the fight had dispersed, but I spotted Hayli still lingering
where I’d left her.  She stood with her arms wrapped tight around her, watching
me wide-eyed as I made my way back toward her.

“If people keep staring at me, I’m going to start breaking
things,” I said when I reached her.  “Preferably noses.  Or eye sockets.”

“You!” she said finally.  “What…”

I measured her a moment, thinking about what Anuk had said. 
Then I decided it was absurd, and with my head pounding worse than ever, I realized
that all I really wanted was to be home, alone, in peace and quiet.

I must be getting old
, I thought, and turned to walk
away.

“Oh, wait!” Hayli cried.  I glanced at her over my shoulder,
but she just said, “Thanks.”

I nodded.

“The coppers let you gan?” she asked.

“They can’t arrest me.  Not really.”  I backed another step,
then stopped at a half-mad idea.  “Do you want something to eat?”

She squinted at me, a sudden look on her face like vinegar. 
“I can take care of myself, like,” she said, hot.

I laughed.  “I don’t doubt that.”

Her brow puckered.

“I was asking you nicely,” I said.  “Don’t think I can’t
make it so you have to sit and talk to me.”

“What?” she gasped.  “Why d’you want to talk to me?”

“What did that other kid mean, about telling the police what
you did?”

She frowned.  “I dan’ get what you want.”

So I moved closer to her, putting on the sternest air I
could and feeling just a little guilty when she wilted away from me.

“I know you’re a Jixy.”

“I am not!” she cried, balling her hands into fists, her
cheeks red.  “Why would you say that?”

I regarded her with some surprise; it had never occurred to
me that she might deny it.

“You appeared out of nowhere yesterday, didn’t you?” I
asked, folding my arms.  “With the motorcar?”

She flinched and turned, as if she had half a mind to just
walk away.

“Even if I was, what would it matter?” she asked.

“Today my father got shot by a Jixy who could appear and
disappear at will.  So.  Talk to me.”

She looked like I had slapped her.  “I was there!” she
cried.

I raised one eyebrow, and it must have been my father’s
eyebrow, the way she turned so pale.

“I mean, I saw it all happen.  I was across the street by
the big tree.  I saw the shooter up on the balcony.  It wasn’t me, honest.”

I believed her.  The shooter had definitely been larger than
her, most likely a man.  But even though I knew the kid was clear, I didn’t
want to let her go just yet.  Maybe because I wanted an excuse to keep talking
to her…though why, I had no idea.

“So you say,” I said.

She closed her eyes.  “I’m no Ghost.  I dan’ even know any
Ghosts.”

“You wouldn’t know where to look for him?”

For a moment she didn’t reply, but stared around the plaza
as though she were looking for someone—or maybe afraid of finding someone.  But
we stood alone, a little island in a swirling sea of revelers, and no one even
seemed to see us.

“No,” she said.  “I actually dan’ na a lot of…Jixies.”

“Hm,” I said.  I nodded at the slight bulge of her waistcoat
under her left arm.  “You can eat that if you want.  I’ll just get something
for myself.”

Her hand flew to her side, the color draining and then
rushing back to her cheeks.  I turned and walked away. 

At the tavern tent, I ordered some sort of bizarre fried
dough which I’d always rather wanted to try, out of morbid fascination, maybe. 
I’d just settled back onto my spot on the wall when Hayli inched her way over
to me.  For a moment she hovered there, watching me under the fringe of her
lashes.

“Can I sit?”

I moved my leg aside, as if that’s what she’d meant.  When
she just stared at me I said, “Look.  See this?”  I gestured at my hat.  “My
grand attempt at a disguise.  So please pretend it’s working.”

She smiled faintly and pulled herself onto the wall, as far
from me as she could get while still being close enough to talk.  I hid a sigh
by biting into the dough.  For a few seconds I chewed thoughtfully, hyperaware
of Hayli studying me as though I’d suddenly grown another head.

“You ever had this stuff before?” I asked, waving it at her.

She shook her head, so I pulled off a chunk and held it out
to her.