This Broken Wondrous World (8 page)

“Ruthven thought we should give you Medusa's room here on the main floor.”

“No one's taken it?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Most do not feel comfortable being so close to humans all the time.”

“And it was the room she died in,” I said.

“Yes, that too.”

MY PARENTS DROPPED
us off in front of Medusa's old dressing room. I noticed there was a star-shaped spot on the door where her name had been taken off.

“There will be time to catch up more tomorrow,” said my father. “But now your mother and I must get ready for tonight's performance.”

“Yeah, I figured it was about that time,” I said.

“Henri should watch The Show tonight. So he can see what it is we do here.”

“You mean, besides hide,” I said.

“Yes. Exactly. I . . .” He frowned for a moment, like he was thinking carefully about what he wanted to say. Then, “I want
him to know we are more than just cowering relics of a superstitious past. We still do good work here.”

“You got it, Dad,” I said.

He nodded, then turned to go. Mom followed silently behind him.

“Mom,” I said.

She turned her head back in my direction, although she didn't actually look at me.

“I hope you're not mad at me,” I said. “For bringing Henri. I think if you give him a chance, you'll really like him.”

She stood there for a moment, staring at a fixed point about two feet to my left. Then she just turned and walked away.

“Give her time, yeah?” said Claire. “She'll come around.”

“I hope so,” I said.

She opened the door and I saw that the room hadn't changed at all since the last time I'd been there. The lights were still draped in silk, and a long, low, red leather divan still took up a good chunk of the room. There were also a few chairs and, in the far corner, a small bathroom.

Most people couldn't look directly at Medusa without turning to stone. My dad and I could when we disconnected our emotions. But for some reason, I was never able to retain my memory of what she looked like when my emotions were reconnected. It was probably some sort of instinctive self-protective measure. Maybe even seeing her in your mind could turn you to stone. I wasn't sure. So when I remembered Medusa, I didn't have a picture of
her
in my mind. What I had was this room and particularly the—

“What is that smell?” Claire wrinkled up her nose. “It's like a mildewed forest in here.”

“All the furniture is stuffed with cedar chips.”

“Why?”

“Cedar is toxic to snakes. It was one of the little things Ruthven did to keep her in line.”

She poked one of the cushions on the divan. “Seems a bit harsh. Even for Ruthven.”

“I guess he thought she was dangerous.”

“Most of the people in this place are dangerous.”

“She was different. Unpredictable. Sometimes she'd just decide to give some human a heart attack right in the middle of the performance. And every once in a while, she'd get in a really nasty mood and we'd end up with several humans and even a few monsters dead. Not even Ruthven could control her. Everyone was afraid of her.”

“Were you?”

“Sure.”

“But you said you liked her.”

“She was . . . awesome. And I mean that literally, as in awe-inspiring.” I shook my head. “She was like the Dragon Lady or the Sphinx—someone who doesn't really belong in modern civilization. Almost a force of nature.” I stared at that red divan. In the corner lay the curtain she'd drawn up when entertaining guests. Except hardly anyone had visited her. “It doesn't seem right that she spent the last decades of her life just sitting in this room all the time.”

“Well, they couldn't let her run around town, could they?”

“I guess not. But sometimes I wonder if she was already dying even before Vi captured her. On the inside, you know?”

I sat down on the divan, feeling the crunch of the cedar in the cushions. I'd never realized how uncomfortable it had been.

I looked up at Claire. “It's not right. For any of us. We shouldn't have to hide what we are. We should be free. All of us.”

Claire sat down next to me and took my hand. “Maybe bringing Henri here is a start to fixing that.”

“A small start.”

“You've got to begin somewhere, haven't you?”

“I thought you said bringing Henri here was my daftest idea yet.”

She put her hand on my cheek with a tenderness that was unusual for her.

“Don't be thick. I love your daft ideas.”

THERE WAS A
long, grating beep.

“What is that?” said Claire.

“Intercom.” I walked over to the box by the door.

“They still make those?”

“Refurb from my mom. Can't be tapped or traced by phone companies. When you've got a giant group of monsters hiding out in the middle of Times Square, it's best to stay off the grid as much as possible.”

“But the whole place is rigged with Internet connections.”

“I can block prying eyes on the Internet. Phone lines are wide open. A phone company can tap or listen in any time they want. A lot of people forget that.”

I pushed the Talk button. “Hello?”

“Box office here,” came a high, raspy female voice. “Uh, is this Boy?”

“Oh, hey. Curmthulia, right?”

“No, that's my sister. This is Rughutla.”

“I bet they argued over who got to call you,” said Claire.

I gave her a sour look, then said, “What's up, Rughutla?”

“Oh, uh, your . . . your human is here.”

“Thanks, I'll be up in a minute. I'd appreciate it if you ladies would be nice to him.”

“Of course, Boy! We won't let anyone pick on him. You can count on us!”

“Thanks,” I said, then let go of the Talk button.

“Whatever you say, Boy!” said Claire in a squeaky voice. “We'll do anything you want! We love you! Can we have your autograph?”

“Seriously, cut it out,” I said.

“I'm just having a little fun. I like how it makes you get all flustered.”

“Are you done?”

“I suppose. Now, you go save Henri from the goblin twins and I'll see about getting us an actual bed for our bedroom.”

I headed for the door.

“Boy?” Her voice was suddenly serious.

“Yeah?”

“You know Ruthven a lot better than I do. Did you get the feeling that he knew more about Robert than he let on?”

“With Ruthven, I think it's always safe to assume he knows more than he's letting on.”

“Well, if you see him up there, try pushing harder.”

“I will.”

It was a short walk from Medusa's dressing room to the lobby. Only a few minutes, actually. Yet somehow in those few minutes when I was completely alone, I ran into the one person in the theater I really didn't want to see.

“Boy? Is that you?” Once upon a time, just hearing that voice say my name had given me shivers of happiness. It gave me shivers now, but not the good kind.

I stopped and turned around. “Hey, Liel.”

I had to admit, she looked good. When she and I had lived out among the humans, she'd kind of gone feral, looking and acting like a stereotypical troll. But now she was back to her old self: long white hair, diamond eyes, dark green skin, lean dancer's body, and most important, not homicidal. As far as I could tell.

“Looks like you're moving up in the den,” I said.

She had some new tribal scars on her cheeks and forehead. She wore her usual white tank top, so I could see she also had a bunch on her arms and shoulders. The more intricate the scars, the more important that trowe was in the den. Her mom, Ku'lah, was the den leader and her entire face, arms, shoulders, and chest were covered in complex scar patterns.

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Mom has me doing a lot of the dance captain responsibilities now. And even some choreography.”

“Oh, that's cool.”

“So you're visiting for the holidays?”

“Yep.”

“How's college?”

“Good. How's The Show?”

“Same old.”

We stood there for a moment. All kinds of weird emotions were coming up to the surface—old pain, old desire. At first I felt kind of bad. Guilty almost, like I was cheating on Claire and Sophie somehow. I was also a little frustrated with myself. Why could Liel still stir me up like this? But at one point, this girl had been the most important person in my life. No matter what else happened after, that would always be true. I guess she would always occupy a tiny little part of my heart.

“Sooo . . .” she said. “I hear you're bringing a human into the theater?”

“Yeah. I'm going to get him from the lobby now.”

“Is it okay if I come?”

“Uh . . .”

She squinted her diamond eyes at me. “Look, don't worry. I'm not going to rip his throat out or anything. I'm not like that anymore. But, I mean, is he going to freak out when he sees me all trowish?”

“No, no.” I said. “He's cool.”

“So? Can I meet him?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

When we got to the lobby, Henri was at the box office window, talking to the goblins. When the twins saw me, they both waved at the same time.

“Aww, your little fan club,” said Liel.

“Just what I need,” I said.

“I think it's sweet. A lot of the younger monsters around here really look up to you. It's good for them to have a positive role model.”

“I'm not a positive role model.”

“Of course you are. You're out there, living among the humans, making something of yourself. You remember how it was for us—we felt so trapped here. You're showing them it doesn't have to be that way.”

“What about you?” I asked. “Do you want to get back out there?”

“Actually, no.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, believe it or not.” She smiled. “I'm very happy here now.”

“That's . . . good.”

She nodded her head toward the box office. “Maybe you
should go save your human. They may be adorable, but goblins have a funny way of showing affection.”

When we reached the box office, Henri was in the middle of telling the twins about some skating tournament.

“Are you sure you girls want to hear this?” he said. “It's pretty gory.”

“We really want to hear
all
the details,” said one of the twins. Their eyes were wide and hungry looking.

“Okay,” he said, oblivious. “So when I came up on the side of the pipe, I thought I would be able to land it, but my wheels skidded out from under me and my arm slammed into the edge. I could hear a snap, and there was suddenly so much blood. I saw the bone was, like, poking out of my forearm.” He rolled up his sleeve and showed them a scar. The twins were staring at his arm, their mouths open so their little fangs glistened in the fluorescent lighting. “Right here. A bit of white sticking through, and—”

“Aaaaaall right, enough sweet-talking,” I said. “Thanks for watching out for Henri, ladies.” I took Henri by the shoulder and moved him away from the box office.

“Any time, Boy!” one of them called.

“So,” said Liel, who'd followed us. “Are you going to introduce me to your Frankenstein?”

“Right,” I said. “Henri, this is Liel.”

“Liel . . .” I could see the wheels turning. Then his face lit up. “Oh, yes, of course, Liel! I've heard all about you.”

Liel laughed. “I'm sure some pretty horrible stuff.”

“Perhaps some moderately horrible stuff.” He gave her his best Henri grin. “But he was absolutely correct when he said you have the most beautiful eyes of any female in existence.”

She smirked, one fang poking out of the corner of her mouth.
“Nice save.”

Ruthven's voice drifted across the lobby. “Boy, can you come here a moment?”