Aldo's Fantastical Movie Palace

by Jonathan Friesen

  Scout’s eyes widened, and he rushed toward her. “What were you doing?”

  “Nothing!” She plastered her hands over the glow, but again light penetrated her fingers. “Just thinking I couldn’t remember dancing like this before.”

  “Remembering. Figures.” He leaned over. “It might be wise to keep your mind in this world until we’re in the city.”

  Scout glanced around then froze. A dark, twisting finger descended from above. It reached the cobblestones and bent forward, like a widening funnel. Out from the spinning darkness strode a tall, robed man, nine, maybe ten feet tall. Travelers parted in front of him, and his eyes glowed the same color as Chloe’s stone.

  “Vaepor’s found you.” Scout stepped between the man and Chloe and hobbled forward. The music stopped. In fact, everything stopped but the roar from above. Chloe ducked behind a harpist ten feet behind Scout.

  “I don’t want to speak with you, brave fool,” the robed man croaked. “Stand aside. I will speak with the girl.”

  “No, you will not!” Scout’s voice rang out in the silence.

  The man raised his hand, and with a movement so quick Chloe barely followed it, crunched his fist into Scout’s ribs. His hand entered Scout’s body and appeared out his back.

  “Scout!” screamed Chloe.

  But Chloe’s protector was not moved. He grabbed the shoulder of the giant and flung him backward, where the man stared gape-jawed at his own clenched fingers.

  Scout stepped nearer. “You are hollow! You have no memory. You don’t know who you are. You can’t hurt me.” Scout’s voice strengthened. “And you may not touch her!”

  Scout spun and forced both his hands into the giant’s midsection. “Change!”

  The giant recoiled and gave a hideous scream. His form shifted and grew into a creature much like Flit, except no bird features — including the soft underfeathers — remained. It was 100 percent dragon, with a scarred and burned underbelly. The dragon scooped up Scout with his talons and slowly lifted him from the ground.

  “I’ll come to you,” Scout shouted down. “Leave the city with nobody else. Don’t even leave with me, unless you’re sure!”

  “Scout!” Chloe cried, and chased the dragon until it disappeared behind the city walls. The music and dancing returned, but Chloe could not join. Not anymore.

  First Nick, then Nob, and now Scout. Everyone’s leaving me!

  “Don’t cry.” A kind-looking woman gave her a hug. “Dance. Soon we’ll all be free from these painful memories. When we reach that glorious pool!”

  “No!” Chloe pulled away and stumbled forward. I don’t even know who you are!

  The stone in her pocket felt heavy, but its glow had faded. “Dumb rock. You’re what Vaepor saw. I should throw you away …”

  She’d reached the gate — doors two stories high and built of solid wood, which she’d created as the only entrance into a fortress city with walls of fitted stone. And there, sitting by the entrance, leaning back against the rock wall, was Nick.

  Musicians shouted and danced all the wilder as Chloe pushed her way to his side of the street.

  “Nick!”

  He cocked his head and stood, scanning the group of gypsies. Chloe relaxed.

  We’ll leave the city together. I can remember enough to get us to the palace. Scout’s face floated into her mind, but she shook the image out. I can’t help him now. I have to get through the window and home. Secholit will have to help Retinya remember by himself.

  Chloe opened her mouth to call to her friend, but let it flap shut.

  Another Nick, identical to the first, wandered aimlessly just inside the gate. “I’m lost! I’m lost! Chloe, help me.”

  Then another appeared, and another. The entire entrance teemed with Nicks. Identical, and searching.

  “Nothing is as it seems,” Chloe whispered.

  Senseri.

  The first Nick stepped into the crowd of dancers. “Chloe? Was that you? I can’t believe you found me!”

  Chloe glanced wildly around, and danced. She grabbed a flute from the woman beside her and blew a note, loud and ugly. She tried to squeeze to the edge of the road, but bodies funneled toward the gate and pushed her right in front of —

  “Oof!”

  Nick and Chloe collided, and she fell to the cobblestones. Nick leaned over, grabbed Chloe’s hand, and helped her to her feet. He paused and she paused, and for a moment everything else vanished. Nick scanned her, searched her. His head cocked and he reached out and touched the scar, rolled his eyes, and kept walking. “Chloe? Have any of you seen a girl with that name?”

  Chloe exhaled, and danced a furious dance into the city — she didn’t stop until all the look-alikes were behind her.

  I need to find Scout.

  She pressed deeper into Medahon and stilled. Aldo would have loved this city when it was first built — the buildings were straight out of a Salvador Dali painting or a Dr. Seuss book. Chloe imagined how it would have looked long ago: Rooms perched on pedestals, walkways rose, fell, and vanished. And the stairs! They twisted and wound, one even looping like an out-of-control roller coaster. A few climbed into the sky, disappearing into the dark, rumbling cloud.

  But the city had crumbled, as if shaken by a giant earthquake. Chunks of stone lay exploded on the ground, buildings were riddled with holes, and the walls — labyrinth-filled and once beautiful — were cracked and crumbling.

  Chloe walked on, and the road widened and spread into an enormous courtyard dotted with thousands of identical gray tents, with thousands of people milling in all directions.

  “I’ll never find the real him,” Chloe muttered. “Grandpa, what would you do?”

  Immediately, her stone blazed blue. Those nearest her shielded their eyes from the light.

  “I see you, Chloe!” Vaepor descended, and voices changed to screams. Out of his cloud screeched five creatures like the one who had taken Scout.

  “Quiet, you dumb stone!”

  Chloe leaped into a tent, where a family reclined around a picnic that smelled of fried chicken. The littlest girl scampered into her mother’s arms, and Chloe snatched up her drumstick.

  “I’m sorry! I just need to be in a tent right now. And after three days of lingonberries …”

  She dug in her pocket and pulled out the stone, then dropped to her knees, stuck the drumstick in her teeth, and scratched at the soft earth like a dog. I’m going to bury you. I’m sick of being chased every time I remember something.

  She paused and scanned her surroundings. A whisper of vapor flicked in beneath the canvas, and the tent lifted skyward. Chloe pocketed the rock and ran. “If I don’t die first!”

  Chloe weaved through the chaos. Creatures from above swooped and grabbed and ripped at the surrounding tents, filling the air with parachuting canvas. Tent pegs and dragon talons and children’s screams mixed together in a hideous scene, and Chloe froze.

  “Hello, Chloe.”

  “Nick?” The voice was his, but the figure was Vaepor’s. The swirling mass surrounded her, billowing nearer on all sides. “Did they tell you I was painful? That was a lie.”

  Chloe glanced around. Only two tents remained in her shrinking circle.

  “Did they tell you I was evil? That was a lie too.”

  That’s it. I’m going to die.

  “Don’t be afraid. I alone can send you back home. As you saw, and as you now hear, our friend Nick already knows that.” Vaepor collapsed in on Chloe, just as strong hands grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her inside the last tent.

  “Enjoy the ride, young one. Greet Quill for me.”

  The next feeling was that of falling, and then coasting like she was on the waterslide at the Melmanie pool. But there was no water; just a smooth stone slope that had no end.

  She slid so deep and for so long, Chloe forgot the fate she’d narrowly escaped. Her mind wandered home, to horses and chickens and quiet country roads. Minnesota was beautiful.

  Chloe
sped around a sharp corner and felt her speed ease. She pressed her hands against the inside of the stone chute and slowed to a stop. When she jumped to her feet, the room around her spun, and she toppled onto her knees. Chloe closed her eyes tightly, waited for her world to still, and cracked open an eyelid.

  “Please, please be the Quints.”

  CHAPTER

  15

  CHLOE STOOD IN A CHAMBER deep underground. It was well lit, though Chloe could see no lanterns, and was far too beautiful to be a cave. The room’s walls were decorated with portraits, top to bottom, of families and parties and holiday get-togethers.

  I’ve fallen into a photo album.

  Chloe’s stone glowed, but the brightness around her swallowed up its light. She stepped forward, and only then looked up.

  Stairs — at least the bottom eight steps of a staircase — hung down through the ceiling like an icicle from a roof.

  “Never seen you the roots of a stairs before? Hmm?”

  “Actually, I have. In my dreams. In a room exactly like this.” Chloe slowly turned and smiled.

  Yes! I’ve found the Quints!

  Before her stood the oldest, kindest face she’d ever met. Shorter than a full-sized man, bald as a bowling ball, and talk about old — his wrinkles were deep as caverns. The man’s shirt and trousers strained to contain his stocky frame. He was a friend. Chloe knew this the moment she saw him.

  He laughed, and the sound filled the hall. “I’m pleased to hear your dreams are giving you the education school does not.”

  School. Chloe rubbed her face and tried to remember it. It seemed so far away. “In class we learn the latitude of Fiji, the proper way to factor a trinomial, the history of the United States … really important stuff.”

  His hand shot out and covered her mouth. “The past is worth your attention. If you can read it, there’s a good chance you should.” He peered to his left. Chloe followed his glance and her jaw dropped. Bookshelves lined an entire wall and continued on until the room jogged left far in the distance.

  “These books weren’t in my dream. Have you read them all?”

  “Not yet. But with fortune, there’ll be time.”

  Chloe walked to the nearest shelf and pulled out a volume. “The War of the Eristad. Never heard of it.”

  “That is because it wasn’t fought in your world. Follow me. We must get you fed, as you have much to do.”

  He reached out his hand.

  Don’t leave here without me. Scout’s warning echoed, and she stared at the stout man’s fingers.

  “Yes,” her host said, “Scout would approve of this.”

  “How did you know …” Chloe smiled. “Nevermind.” She grabbed the Quint’s hand, and together they moved through the chamber.

  “You’re wondering about the pictures. They are taken up above, in the city. We do all we can to capture as many families as we can. We record lives, in book as well as in photo.” He sighed. “At march’s end, they’ll forget. We’ll hold the last record of who is whose.”

  “A hall of memories,” she whispered.

  “Put well.” He straightened. “And now prepare to meet the other Quints. Qujan, especially, has been eager to greet you. Oh, forgive me — my name! Please call me Quill.”

  “Quill the Quint.” She laughed. “Oh, I’m sorry, that just sounded funny to me.”

  “Laugh away, young one. Your road gets harder from here.”

  Chloe later tried to describe the home of the Quints, but was scarcely able to remember the particulars, which is odd as it was a chamber filled with memories. She had no problem recalling dinner, however. Lamb and salmon and cake — chocolate, to be exact.

  Quill sat beside her at one of the tables that filled the dining hall. Surrounding them were fifty, maybe sixty other Quints, each nearly identical in appearance to Quill. Except for hair; Quill was the only bald one among them. Chloe quickly discovered that Quints were messy eaters — much like Q back home. Fully half of their food tumbled and dripped down their shirts.

  But the most memorable things in that room were the tables. Simple picnic tables — the kind that filled her own dining room — stretched across the space, and joyful conversation surrounded each one. It was the sound of home. Even with a stressed mom and a crazy dad and wild brothers and Grandpa Salvador, Chloe’s house was Italian-loud and cheerful at mealtimes. In those moments, she felt she had family.

  The Quints laughed and hooted and ate. Inside, Chloe felt warm. Yes, she decided, if she never returned home, life with the Quints would be an acceptable alternative. So much nicer than the elves’ darkness.

  “No, Chloe,” Quill whispered. “You can’t stay here, not even one night. You’re needed above.”

  “But ever since Nick and I began working on the — I mean, I’ve been hoping I’d run into you since I got here.”

  “So famous we are in all worlds! This is good news, yet hardly unexpected.” He motioned to a Quint seated at the end of the table. “Her book, please.”

  The small man rose and left the room. Minutes later, he returned, bowed, and handed Chloe a thick volume.

  She frowned, pushed aside her plate, and opened to page one.

  Pictures of me? How did you get these?

  “You imagine you are the only one from your family to eat at this table?”

  She looked up slowly. Something in her knew.

  “Grandpa?”

  Quill peeked at the female Quint seated on Chloe’s left. She was craning her neck to see the photographs, but quickly blushed and leaned back on the bench. Quill raised his eyebrows and gestured for her to speak.

  “My name is Qujan. Yes, my dear Salvador, and before him —”

  “Aldo,” Chloe whispered.

  Qujan smiled at his name. “Yes, Salvador’s very handsome father, as you see further on.”

  Chloe spent the next hour poring over family photographs. Until Dad’s face appeared sprinkled among the pictures. “I don’t want to see these anymore.”

  “That may work with elves, but not here.” Quill tapped her book. “Learn.”

  Chloe forced down her gaze. It was the same image she’d seen in the blue mirror — a crying father — but this time she clearly saw his hand, and in it a picture of her before the accident.

  “Grandpa wasn’t here recently. How do you have photos of me?”

  “The photos filled in the moment you arrived,” Qujan said. “You brought memories with you. See, see the way your father weeps?”

  “He doesn’t look at me.” Chloe pointed at her chin. “He can’t after this hideous thing …” She broke into tears.

  “Turn the page,” Quill said softly.

  “No.”

  “I can’t turn it for you. Turn the page.”

  Chloe wiped the tears with the heel of her hand and obeyed. The page held only one photo. It was of her, and she was beautiful. The scar was there, but though she tried she couldn’t focus on the imperfection. Her face was radiant, triumphant. But there was no background in the photo. Just Chloe.

  “I don’t look like this. Where was this taken?”

  Quill reached over and closed the book. “It’s a memory that has not yet been made.”

  “Oh, will it happen? I was beautiful … I mean, I looked like I felt beautiful.”

  Qujan leaned over. “You alone can make that memory. It’s not out of reach.”

  Chloe stroked her scar and felt a searing inside. Not possible.

  “Family?” Quill rumbled and every Quint jumped up. “We must see that Chloe reaches the uppermost floor. If one of Pindle’s children grabbed Scout, that is where he’ll be. I’ve not called on you since Aldo’s day, but now a greater evil wishes to stop Chloe’s search before it begins. She’ll need Scout if she is to survive the march.”

  “No.” Chloe’s head thumped down onto the table. “I don’t want to hear any more about surviving. You showed me my family, and now I want Nick and a way home.”

  “I’m afraid that
Nick is home.” Quill stared at Chloe. “His album is black.”

  Chloe raised her head. “What does that mean?”

  “Listen, Chloe, for now you must forget Nick. If you see him, it will likely not be him in flesh. And Nob has fled, I cannot see where. Above, in the city, you and Scout will be alone. But you will have another companion as well; you have your memories. Be aware you will be watched not only by the Senseri, but also by many things good, and that is a comforting thought. Find Scout, march toward the pool, and finish the quest you were wounded to complete.”

  Chloe looked around the table. “Does anyone here understand what he just said?”

  “Forget Nick. Find Scout. To the pool.” Qujan slapped Quill with the back of her hand. “Males can be so complicated.”

  A train of Quints instantly rose and led Chloe to the Great Hall.

  Quill cracked thick knuckles. “Quall, start the chain.”

  CHAPTER

  16

  A LARGE QUINT Chloe assumed had to be Quall lay down and raised his hands toward the ceiling. Another Quint lay on the first.

  “I don’t mean to complain.” Quall glanced at Quill. “But I did start the last chain.”

  “And you’ll start the next one too.”

  Quint after Quint added to the living ladder until twenty-one Quints formed stumpy but shaky rungs stretching from the floor to the root of the stairs.

  Quall, arms shaking, turned his head to one side. “I don’t mean to rush you, but it is a bit heavy.”

  “Rush me?” Chloe slowly shook her head backed away.

  “Climb these stairs, Chloe.” Quill eased her toward the pile of Quints. “It will lead you nowhere, which is exactly where you’ll find Scout. According to Quist, who located you in Tent City, dragons circle without ceasing on the eve of the terrible Pilgrimage. But Vaepor has vanished from the skies, leading me to believe It thinks it has found the greater prize: your Nick. But It is wrong.” He removed a volume from his bookshelf. “I believe Scout is still alive. His pictures still shine, although not brightly. Senseri will be roaming the streets waiting for you to rescue him.”