The wer-bear looked blank. “I cry your pardon, madama, but I do not know your customs.”
“A kiss,” one of the Boy Toys said. “Zu has proclaimed that a correct guess gets a kiss. Sometimes it is better to be wrong, eh?”
The Toys looked at me and giggled, Udo among them, and for a tiny second, I was tempted to open my mouth and let the Gramatica Curse fulminating in my mouth fly—let’s see how hard they’d be laughing then, writhing on the ground with their livers turned to mush. But as sweet as the short term would be, the long term of being caught with magick would be rather sour. So, although my teeth were starting to ache, I kept my mouth shut.
Sieur Wraathmyr looked at me as though he’d rather kiss a scorpion. I curved my tingly lips into what I hoped was a scornful Try to impress me, puggie, smile.
“Kiss her!” the Zu-Zu demanded, and the Toys began to chant the command. Sieur Wraathmyr didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, grabbed me in his arms, and dipped me down, off balance, turning his back to the Zu-Zu and her cronies. If I struggled, I risked falling or looking like a fool. So I tried to neither tense up nor go limp, but to remain nonchalant, as though people swept me off my feet all the time. Sieur Wraathmyr bent his head down to mine, hair falling across my face. Goddess, even though he was a snapperhead, he did smell wonderful.
“Why do you dog me?” he whispered. I couldn’t answer, at risk of letting the Word out. I tried to swallow it, but it stuck in my throat like a piece of sticky toffee.
“Leave me—” But he didn’t complete his sentence, for I felt my feet slip, and as I let out an involuntary squeak of alarm, the Word flew out of my mouth into his.
Sieur Wraathmyr jerked back as though I’d stung him. I thought he would drop me, but he recovered quickly and in another smooth movement, stood me on my feet.
The Toys were whooping, and applause splattered around us. I didn’t recognize the taste of the Word, but it was bitter, like very dark chocolate, with a little kick of spice. Surely at any moment Sieur Wraathmyr would explode into jelly or dissolve into flames, or transmogrify into a six-headed coyote. Instead, he turned back to the Zu-Zu and sketched an insolent Courtesy. Udo, I noticed joyfully, was scowling. Standing in contrast to Sieur Wraathmyr, Udo suddenly looked raw, green, just another pretty boy Sieur Wraathmyr hadn’t even noticed him.
“Very nice, Sieur Wraathmyr,” the Zu-Zu said, fluttering her fan at him. “I like your technique. Perhaps I shall have a go at guessing your costume.”
Sieur Wraathmyr said, “I cry your pardon, Your Grace, but I fear I do not have a costume. Your Grace’s invitation came to me so late that I had not time to prepare an outfit.”
“Then you must pay me a forfeit,” the Zu-Zu answered. Before she could name the forfeit—and by the way she was now looking at him, I had a feeling I knew what it would be—Denizen Furfur manifested next to her and said mournfully, “The cake is ready to be brought in, Your Grace. The Warlord wishes to see it cut so that he may retire.”
“My cake!” Grabbing Udo’s arm, the Zu-Zu rushed away, the Toys jockeying for position behind her.
I did not rush to follow them, and neither did Sieur Wraathmyr. He brushed by me without a second glance. And I thought the Zu-Zu was arrogant! Well, he could be snobby all he wanted. I wanted my map, and I’d better get it, too, before he exploded, or worse.
I followed Sieur Wraathmyr as he skirted the dance floor, trying to catch up with him but being thwarted by the dancers, now cavorting to a very loud falandio. The dance ended with a fanfare, and the dancers scattered; I weaved in and out of the throng, gaining on him. I almost had him cornered near one of the punch bowls when I heard a voice at my heels.
Ah, fike, not now.
“Ave, Flora!” Udo said, breathlessly I pretended not to hear him, and dodged around a man done up to look like a dissected cadaver. But Udo was persistent, and reached out to grab my arm.
“Shouldn’t you be with the Zu-Zu?” I turned around to face him.
“Zu is getting ready to receive her cake; she won’t miss me.” Udo looked at me expectantly, and when I didn’t say anything, he said, “I was surprised to see you here.”
“I was invited. It was my duty to come.” I scanned the crowd, but Sieur Wraathmyr had vanished. Thanks, Udo.
“Mine, too.”
“Is being the Zu-Zu’s lap dog part of this duty?”
“It is, actually,” he said, grinning. “I’ve been promoted. I’m second gentleman in the Warlord’s bedchamber now. I get to hold his mirror while he is shaving. And I have to bark whenever Zu requires it.”
“How nice for you.” If my tone was a bit nastier than I had intended, well, too fiking bad. “And her costume! How dare she!”
Udo looked a bit abashed, as well he should. “Ayah. I didn’t think you’d like that much. But you know the Zu-Zu is a huge fan of Azota. She hates the Birdies, too—”
“She grew up among the Birdies,” I said. The Zu-Zu had gone to school in Anahuatl City, as a “guest” of the Birdies, and had only been allowed to return to the City last year.
“That’s why she hates them. The Birdie Ambassador is not pleased with her outfit. She’s making a political statement.”
I had no desire to hear about the Zu-Zu’s political leanings, or anything else about her. She might be the Warlord’s fourth heir, but I was the Head of the House Haðraaða, so I trumped her, even if I couldn’t admit it yet. I made a move to squeeze by Udo, but he was immovable.
He said, “I like your outfit, Flora. You make a good Nini Mo.”
“Thank you.” I didn’t return the compliment because Udo didn’t look good; he looked like a fool. A bootlicking slavering toady of a fool.
Alas, no, he didn’t. Even made up like the corpse of an outlaw, Udo looked gorgeous. But I was never going to let him know I thought that. I said, “Who was that man, that Sieur Wraathmyr? I’ve never seen him around before.”
“Oh, just a traveling salesman. He works for Madama Twanky I think. He was at Saeta House, showing Zu some ribbands or something, and she invited him to the party He’s a bit common, don’t you think?”
“He acts like he’s Choronzon, King of All Creation,” I said savagely.
“You seemed to enjoy his kiss, though.” Udo sounded accusing.
“If I did, what’s it to you?”
“What’s it to me?” Udo asked incredulously. “How can you say that?”
“You’d better get back to the Zu-Zu. She’s going to miss you.”
Udo made no move to get back to the Zu-Zu. “You never answered my letter.”
“I didn’t?” I knew full well I had not. Every time I had sat down to try, I hadn’t known what to say. So, in the end, it was easiest to say nothing.
“You know you did not. Flora, can’t we—” He made a movement as though to touch me, but I flinched away.
“Excuse me, madama.” Sieur Wraathmyr had popped up from behind the punch bowl. He bowed stiffly at Udo, then said to me, “I believe this is yours.”
For one heart-leaping moment, I thought he was offering me my map. Then I realized he was holding out a wadded napkin. I took it from him, and with another stiff bow, he walked away Something moved inside the napkin and I almost dropped it.
“What is that?” Udo asked.
I peeked inside the napkin and saw a ladybug nestled in its folds. But it wasn’t a ladybug. It was my Gramatica Word, which I now embarrassingly recognized as the verb ardor.
I quickly closed my hand, crushing the Word in my fist.
“Nothing,” I said.
SEVEN
Orders. Bad News. Confession.
THE SINGING OF THE Zu-Zu’s birthday hymn saved me from further conversation with Udo, but in the hoopla surrounding the cutting of the cake, Sieur Wraathmyr escaped me. I never did see him again at the party, but now that I knew my quarry’s name and profession, he would not be that hard to find. I went back to the UOQ filled with vigorous hope and, after a late-night snack of apple pi
e, slept like a dead alligator.
Among the many pieces of paper Buck’s office receives each day are copies of the manifests of all ships and coaches entering and exiting the City. The first thing I did when I got to the CGO the next morning was to pull these lists, and thus I discovered that Sieur Wraathmyr had arrived in the City the morning of Pirates’ Parade, on the steamer Pantico. His profession was listed as drummer, or traveling salesman, his point of origin Cuilihuacan, and his nationality Varanger, which explained the accent. The Varangers live in the far north, where the summer days are very long and the winter days are very short. Not much grows up there, so they are mostly traders and raiders and are notorious for being quarrelsome, arrogant, and vain. That explained everything else.
And in the day before’s Alta Califa, I found the following notice: Newly arrived on the steamer Pantico, Sieur T. N. Wraathmyr, representative for Madama Twankys fine luxury goods. Sieur Wraathmyr carries with him a fine array of exquisite linens from Seneg; sweet perfumes from the Huitzil Empire; the choicest fruits from the Kulani Islands; beaver hats, both fancy and plain; lace goods of all persuasions; Bradstock bootees; linen brollies; ETC. He will be staying at the Palace Hotel, for those who wish to peruse his samples and place orders.
Well, I did not wish to peruse Sieur Wraathmyr’s items or place an order, but he could bet his Bradstock bootees that I would be paying him a visit at the Palace Hotel as soon as I was dismissed. But first a day of tedious duty punctuated by only one joy: accompanying Buck to the Embarcadero, where we joined a huge throng and the Califa National Band in waving goodbye to the Infantina. The Zu-Zu, her Boy Toys (including Udo), and an enormous amount of luggage were to sail down the coast and meet up with the Infanta at Angeles and then travel back to Califa in the Infanta’s convoy.
The sendoff was a big event, with the band playing, cannons firing, and the Warlord sniveling into his hankie, as though the Zu-Zu were going to be gone for a year instead of only a few weeks. I saw Udo from an extreme distance. Or, rather, I saw Udo’s hairstyle from an extreme distance: He’d swept his hair up into a giant pouf and perched a small wooden boat upon its wave. Judging from the admiring noises I heard from the crowd, he was about to start a trend.
I hoped the Zu-Zu and Udo had a very nice voyage to Angeles. I hoped the sea was rough, and their ship was leaky, and maybe even that there would be sharks or a pirate or two. Hope is free, Nini Mo said. You can have all you want. I had to admit one thing: Sieur Wraathmyr might be arrogant, but he wasn’t a bootlicker. It was very hard for me to imagine him as anyone’s lap dog. Or wearing his hair in a giant pouf, either.
That evening, I had to work late and then accompany Buck to dinner at the O Club with a bunch of yaller dogs, but as soon as I was dismissed, I hightailed it down to the Palace Hotel. Sieur Wraathmyr wasn’t there. According to the bellhop, he’d gone to Sacto and would return by the end of the week. I had no choice but to wait until he returned.
So on to an excruciating week, filled with frantic days full of frantic preparation for the Infanta’s arrival, and frantic nights when I lay in bed and imagined what would happen if I didn’t get the map back. Four times I went down to the Palace Hotel to see if Sieur Wraathmyr had returned, just in case. He hadn’t, and by my third visit, the bellhops were nudging each other and winking when they saw me. Clearly they thought I had something other than Bradstock bootees in mind. Which was true, but not at all what they were thinking.
Not at all.
Never.
As the week dragged on and on, my mood grew fouler and more desperate. I considered asking for leave and sneaking up to Sacto to confront Sieur Wraathmyr there. But Lieutenant Sabre had gone on sick leave, and I didn’t dare ask Buck. I even considered telling Poppy what I had done, sending him after Sieur Wraathmyr. Let’s see Sieur Wer-bear tell Hotspur to jump into the Bay! But I didn’t dare that, either.
First, Poppy would kill me if he knew I had gone against our agreement that I stay out of the Current. And second, he didn’t know that Tiny Doom was still alive, and I wasn’t sure what he would do when he found out. Scream? Howl? Revert back to the crazy Poppy of old? Of course, he would find out eventually, but I’d just as soon put that day off.
Time was slipping away, and with it my future; the Infanta would arrive in a few weeks and that would be it. It would be all be over. Califa would be fully Birdie-ized and my hopes of reclaiming my family heritage would be punto final. I’d be trapped in duty and paperwork, forever powerless.
If my mood was foul, Buck’s was even fouler. Pow was on a poo strike and hadn’t produced all week. His grunting and wailing was keeping them both up, and so she was even less inclined to put up with budget overruns, missing returns, and squabbles over who was supposed to be in charge of painting over the anti-Birdie slogans that kept appearing on the wall of the Birdie Ambassador’s house. No one had seen or heard of the Dainty Pirate in over a year, but other pirates, equally ruthless and far less mannered, had taken his place, and their antics up and down the coast were giving her fits.
Without Lieutenant Sabre to protect us, everyone in the office was feeling Buck’s teeth. She sent Private Hargrave to the stockade for spending too much time in the loo; she complained about Sergeant Carheña’s handwriting; she had a huge blowout with the quartermaster about how much money he had spent on flowers for the Infanta’s welcome-home parade. She even banished the dogs, Flynn included, for barking at a courier and waking Pow from his nap. The other clerks and I hunkered down at our desks and hoped to stay away from her bite, and we were not always successful.
Then, on Friday afternoon, while I was at my desk working on yet another giant pile of paperwork with my forebrain and worrying about the wer-bear with my back brain, Buck called me into her office. Obeying her summons, I found her bent over her settee, changing Pow’s diaper.
“Reporting as requested, sir,” I said. She handed me the soggy diaper and I threw it in the pail.
“Have a seat, Flora, I need to talk to you.”
For a moment I could hardly breathe. All the things that Buck could want to talk to me about ran through my head—the list was long and quite punitive.
Buck sat down in her nursing chair, settling Pow in for a feed. Trying to act innocent and casual, although my insides were quivering, I plunked down on the settee.
“I was at Saeta House just now, where I saw the Birdie Ambassador.”
“Hmmmm?” I tried to sound noncommittal.
“Did you meet his son, the Conde, at the Infantina’s birthday party?”
“Well, ayah, yes.”
She said, exasperated, “And you didn’t think to mention this to me?”
“I didn’t think it was that important, really The kid was lost in the Zu-Zu’s haunted house. I just helped him get un-lost. That’s all. It was nothing.”
Buck sighed. “Well, it was something. It was something to the Duque. Apparently he was so taken with your kindness toward his son that now he’s asking you to do him a favor.”
“A favor?” I asked in horror. Surely the Conde hadn’t stuck to his desire to have me as his nanny. Pow was bad enough, but to be duenna to a Birdie? And the Birdie Ambassador’s son to boot? No good deed goes unpunished, Nini Mo said. I should have left that kid to wander the haunted house until he turned twenty-five or the reanimated alligators ate him, whichever came first.
“The Duquesa de Xipe Totec, the Ambassador’s wife, was traveling to Califa with the Infanta. She took sick in Cuilihuacan and had to stay behind when the Infanta’s convoy moved on. Now she’s better, but she needs to be escorted from Cuilihuacan to rejoin the convoy The Ambassador asked a favor of me. Well, he couched it as a favor, but it wasn’t really It was an order. They say things so sweetly, the damn Birdies, as though you have a choice, but you never do. So you’ll have to go to Cuilihuacan and escort her back.”
It took a moment for Buck’s words to sink in, and when they did, they sank all the way to the bottom of my boots, along with my h
eart and all my courage.
Cuilihuacan!
Cuilihuacan is in the Huitzil Empire. Buck was sending me into Birdieland. My body went stiff with panic. The Birdie Ambassador knew who I really was. He had to. Someone had betrayed me and now the Birdie Ambassador was tricking Buck into sending me within the Empire, where I’d be arrested and sent to Anahuatl City to be sacrificed to the Lord of the Smoked Mirror.
“Don’t look so green, Flora. It’s a ruse, of course. Xipe Totec just wants to use you as leverage against me. He figures if you are within his control, I’ll have to behave, and he is most eager for me to behave right now. He’s the one who advocated that the Infanta be allowed to return to Califa, that we no longer needed such strong oversight, that we were well pacified. So it would look very bad on him if there were to be, shall we say, trouble. And as long as there is no trouble, you’ll be perfectly safe, Flora. And there will be no trouble.” But Buck sounded as though she was trying to convince herself as well as me.
“Can’t you get me out of it some way, Mamma?” I pleaded.
“I can’t refuse, Flora. I would if I could, but I can’t. But I promise you, you’ll be safe.” Pow had fallen asleep, and she rocked him gently. “Xipe Totec may figure that if he has you, he also has the goods on me. But I’ve got goods on him, too, as he knows full well, so he’ll be careful.”
“But what if they try to sacrifice me?”
“Don’t be hysterical, Flora. They wouldn’t dare. You’ll be fine.”
“Mamma...”
“Don’t give me that look, Lieutenant. This is not a request. It’s an order.” Then Buck started babbling about politics and diplomacy, and my fear turned to anger that flared higher and higher. Did she think I was an idiot? I knew she’d give me over in a minute if it meant keeping the peace in Califa. After Idden had deserted, hadn’t Buck issued a warrant for her arrest? Hadn’t she ordered the Dainty Pirate, Califa’s last great hero, executed? Hadn’t she forced Poppy to drop his suit for slander against the Birdie Ambassador? She was nothing but a Birdie lap dog, and now she was throwing me to them.
Flora's Fury: How a Girl of Spirit and a Red Dog Confound Their Friends, Astound Their Enemies, and Learn the Impo Page 6