The End of Time

by P. W. Catanese

  Lady Truden shot up from her chair. “What? What’s the matter?”

  Sophie gulped and averted her eyes. “You should come up and see.”

  Tru dashed for the stairs, running with the sides of her gown bunched in her fists. Hap and Sophie followed, not daring to pass her. Hap heard Balfour and Oates rushing to join them.

  When they reached the terrace, they were startled to hear Umber hooting and laughing. He was shirtless, standing behind one of the largest planters on the terrace with a shovel in his hand. Dirt was flung all around him, and the small tree that previously occupied the planter had been uprooted and cast aside. Umber climbed onto the waist-high planter to stomp down the fresh pile of dirt. Oates snorted out a laugh. It was clear then that Umber was pantsless as well as shirtless, and in fact was entirely naked except for the striped socks that reached to his knees. He began to sing loudly, drawing out the notes and laughing: “Oh give me a home, where the buffalo rooooooaaaaam!”

  Sophie turned away, blushing. Lady Truden cried out and covered her face with her hands, though Hap was pretty sure he saw her peering out from between parted fingers.

  “What’s the matter with him?” Tru shouted.

  “At least he’s not depressed,” Balfour said, chuckling.

  “This isn’t funny, you old fool,” Tru shot back. “What sort of plant did that idiot wizard give you?”

  “You’re the one who made the tea,” Oates reminded her.

  Umber raised his face to the sky and howled more of the song. “And the deer and the antelope plaaaaaaay, ha-ha!”

  Tru jabbed Balfour’s chest with a finger. “Don’t blame this on me. I did exactly what you told me! I made tea from seventy leaves!”

  “What is an anti-lope?” Oates wondered.

  “Seventy?” cried Balfour. “There’s the trouble. I told you seventeen.”

  Umber held the shovel horizontally in two hands, and kicked one way, and then the other. “Where seldom is heeeard . . .”

  “You told me seventy!” Tru shouted, snarling. “There’s nothing wrong with my ears.”

  “I heard him say seventeen,” Oates said flatly. That settles that, thought Hap.

  “. . . a discouraging wooooooord!”

  With an anguished cry, Tru fell to her knees. She dropped her face into her hands, and her body convulsed with sobs. “Oh, my dear Umber, what have I done to you?”

  “Give him time, Tru,” Balfour said, patting her shoulder. “I bet he’ll calm down. And it’s better than moping for weeks, isn’t it? Oates, why don’t you help Umber down from there and put his clothes back on him.”

  “I’d rather not touch him,” Oates replied, looking at Umber from head to toe.

  “And the skiiiies are not cloudy all daaaaay! Ha-ha!” Umber tossed the shovel over his shoulder and scooped up soil with both hands and flung it in the air. He smiled upward with his eyes and mouth closed as it rained back down on his face.

  Balfour sighed heavily. “Come on, Hap. You too, Oates. We’ll all do it. Sophie, help Tru downstairs, will you?”

  Hap gathered the clothes that were scattered around the terrace. Oates gripped Umber below the armpits and held him up. Balfour tugged Umber’s pants back on with his face turned away, and he couldn’t help but laugh while he did it. Hap chuckled as well, despite his own concern for Umber’s sanity. Umber found their struggle hilarious. “Looky, boys, I went and did it!” he cried, barely able to squeeze the words out between his guffaws.

  Balfour pulled the shirt over Umber’s head. “Did what, Umber?”

  “Helloooo!” cried Umber as his head popped up from the collar. “I planted it, of course!”

  “I think he means that thorny nut,” Hap said.

  “Exactly!” Umber said, and he started to sing again. “In a canyon, in a cavern, excavaaaaaating for a mine . . .” But then his eyelids fluttered, his head lolled, and his voice slurred. “You guys are my pals. I think I’ll take another nap.”

  “That’s a fine idea,” Balfour said. Umber drifted off a moment later, and Balfour turned to Hap and Oates. “But this time, let’s keep an eye on him.”

  Once Umber was tucked away again, they gathered in the great hall. Sophie’s cheeks were still as red as a rose, while Lady Tru’s face was hidden behind her hands as she slumped at the table. “The only misstep,” Balfour said, “was quadrupling the dosage.” That observation prompted an inarticulate groan from Lady Tru.

  Dodd strode into the room. “Visitors coming,” he said. “On horseback, not in a carriage. I believe it’s Umber’s female acquaintance.” He winked at Hap. “And her little friend, too.”

  Hap straightened up and stretched his neck. Sophie was across the table from him, and he saw vertical lines appear between her eyebrows.

  Lady Tru took her hands off her face. “That woman again? She’s a regular nuisance, if you ask me.”

  Balfour puffed air out of the side of his mouth. “Everything’s happening at once today, isn’t it? Dodd, this is not the best time for that young lady to visit, especially after what happened last time. Let’s just tell them Umber’s not in, shall we?”

  “I’ll handle these visitors,” Lady Tru said, and she pushed away from the table.

  “I bet you will,” Balfour muttered.

  Dodd stepped back, allowing Tru plenty of room to pass. When she was out of earshot, he put his hand next to his mouth and, always the impromptu poet, quietly recited:

  “Of all the beasties, there are few,

  Who frighten me like Lady Tru.”

  Hap was suddenly aware that he was fidgeting madly in his seat, with his knees bouncing and his hands rubbing together. “Come on, Hap,” Balfour said, with a sly look on his grizzled face. “Why don’t we go down and say hello? They’re your friends too.”

  “All right,” Hap said. He stood, with a flush of anticipation that faded when he saw Sophie twist away to hide her face. Hap wondered why she did that; she could be difficult to understand at times. But his own feelings were just as hard to decipher, he realized; at that moment he was torn between going downstairs to see Fay and Sable, and remaining where he was at the table with Sophie. Balfour was already on his way, so he followed the old man.

  “You could take the lift and save your knees,” Hap said, catching up to him.

  “I’m feeling spry at the moment,” Balfour said cheerfully. He stopped at the top landing and raised an arm to hold Hap back. Balfour cocked his head to listen, and Hap was surprised to hear Fay’s voice inside the Aerie.

  “She let them inside?” Balfour muttered with a frown. “Why would she do that?”

  “I’m sorry, but Lord Umber is in no frame of mind to receive visitors,” Lady Tru said.

  Balfour’s expression darkened and Hap felt his own blood begin to boil. “But, Balfour, you said we should tell them—”

  “I know!” Balfour tried to mask his anger as he made his way down the stairs. Hap followed and saw Fay and Sable below.

  “You have to understand, Lord Umber is not well,” Lady Truden said to Fay. Her hands were clasped at her waist, and the smug set of her mouth made Hap want to scream.

  Balfour coughed, loudly, and Sable looked up. She gasped when she spotted Hap, and hopped up and down with her hand waving madly. Fay looked up next, and seemed relieved to see Balfour and Hap, if only to have someone else to speak to besides the contemptuous silver-haired woman who towered over her.

  “Balfour,” Fay said. “How good to see you again. And you, Master Happenstance.”

  “Hullo, Hap!” cried Sable.

  “A pleasure, my lady,” Balfour said, wincing as an ache flared in his leg. He started to limp, and Hap stepped down next to him so that Balfour could put a hand on his shoulder. They were halfway down the stairs. “I don’t know what Lady Truden has just told you, but I’m sure Lord Umber will—”

  Lady Truden interrupted to finish Balfour’s sentence. “Be quite happy if you leave him alone to recover in peace.” Hap felt Balfour’s
grip tighten on his shoulder.

  “That terrible sadness . . . Lord Umber still is not recovered?” Fay said.

  “I’m afraid not,” Lady Truden said.

  “Tru!” snapped Balfour.

  Fay looked up at Balfour and back at Lady Tru. “But he sent flowers to the palace. I assumed he was well again, and came to thank him.”

  “He is well,” Balfour said with a vigorous nod. “Recovering just fine, in fact. But he’s resting now. I know he’s eager to see you, however, and . . .” Balfour’s voice creaked to a stop, because a faint sound echoed from the upper floor of the Aerie, through the gaps in the floors that allowed the lift to pass. They heard it faintly over the rush of water that flowed through the channel in the ground floor of the Aerie. It was a wild, almost maniacal laughter, followed by another song: the one that Umber had heard whistled in the market.

  “Take me out to the ball game . . . take me out with the crowd!”

  Fay peered up past the ropes and platforms of the lift. “Is that Lord Umber?”

  “Um. I believe it is,” Balfour said. His eyes stretched wide, and his fingers clutched Hap’s shoulder.

  “Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack, I don’t care if I never get back!”

  “He doesn’t sound sad at all,” Sable said, squinting up.

  No, he sounds like a lunatic, Hap thought. He and Balfour had frozen side by side, and he didn’t think either one of them was breathing.

  Something terrible happened. The gears of the lift were suddenly engaged, and the platforms began to move. On one of the first platforms to drop down from the floor above, Hap saw a pair of empty trousers dangling. They slipped off and fluttered to the floor below, not far from where Fay and Sable stood. “Oh, crackers,” Balfour muttered. He spoke quickly into Hap’s ear. “Bad news. Umber started the lift from upstairs. Go throw the switch at the bottom and stop it, as fast as you can. I think he’s naked again.”

  Hap thundered down the steps. He tried to present a calm, friendly smile to Fay and Sable as their heads turned to watch him, but the best he could manage was a maniacal clenching of his teeth. At the foot of the lift, where the rushing water powered the machinery, he shoved the lever back. The lift rattled to a stop with the ropes quivering. Hap looked up with his breath poised inside his chest. High overhead, just below the hole in the ceiling, he saw a pair of skinny bare legs up to the knees. That was close, Hap thought.

  “What’s this?” Umber cried merrily. The bare legs hopped up and down on the platform. “Something’s amiss with the lift! Is anybody down there? Start me up again! Helloooo!”

  Oates’s head appeared at the top of the stairs. “Umber is awake again,” he said.

  Balfour squinted and rubbed the side of his face. “That’s helpful, Oates. Can you put him back in that room for the time being? Sit on him if you have to.”

  Oates stuck out his tongue and vanished back into the grand hall. A moment later Umber’s bare legs levitated up and out of sight. “What’s this?” Umber cried with a laugh. “Oh, it’s you, Oates! Are we going somewhere? I just remembered a song—I’ll sing it for you!” The voice faded away.

  Hap puffed out a deep breath and looked back at their visitors. Fay and Sable were gaping, openmouthed. Hap saw the corner of Lady Truden’s mouth turn up, and his hand crunched into a fist.

  “I don’t understand,” Fay said, looking at Balfour with her hand pressed to her heart. “Before, it was sadness. Now he sounds giddy, almost mad. This . . . this is not the man I met before, who saved us in Sarnica.”

  “He is a troubled man,” Lady Truden said, shaking her head sadly. “Perhaps you both should leave us now. I believe you were staying with Prince Loden at the palace? The rumor is you and he are quite inseparable.”

  “Tru!” Balfour snapped. He’d finally hobbled to the bottom of the stairs. His face was an angry shade of purple as he stepped inches away from Lady Truden. He spoke quietly, his voice filled with fury. “I know what you’re doing, and why. Now get upstairs. All the way upstairs, and out of sight. When Umber recovers, I’m telling him how you treated our guests. Now go!”

  Lady Tru’s lips pressed so tightly together that they turned white. She whirled and stomped upstairs, with Balfour’s glare practically igniting the hair on the back of her head.

  “Golly,” whispered Sable when Lady Tru was gone. Hap could see the whites all around her eyes.

  Fay took Sable’s hand and stepped back. “Perhaps we should go.”

  “Please don’t,” Hap said.

  “That’s right,” Balfour said. He took Fay’s free hand and clasped it inside both of his. “Umber will never forgive me if I don’t explain what you’ve seen these last two visits. The Umber you first met is the true Umber, I promise you. And you will see that man again, before long. Please, my lady. Stay for a while, and let us talk.”

  Sable tugged at Fay’s other hand. “Please, Aunt Fay. Just for a little while.” Her dark eyes stared at Hap in a way that made his stomach flutter.

  Fay heaved out a deep breath, and she nodded. “Not for too long. We’ll be missed at the palace.” She blushed and grinned at Balfour. “We snuck away, to be honest. We were only supposed to ride around the palace grounds.”

  Balfour smiled back and extended his elbow. “Ride the lift with me to the grand hall, my lady, and we’ll share a glass of wine while I explain the inexplicable. Hap, perhaps you’d like to show your pretty friend the view of Petraportus?”

  “Oh, please,” said Sable. She slipped her arm inside Hap’s, and it clamped on his elbow like a vise.

  Hap and Sable sat at the edge of the path overlooking the ancient crumbling castle in Kurahaven Bay, with their legs dangling over the edge. Below them the enormous spout of fresh water, fed by a subterranean stream, jetted out from the base of the Aerie and splashed into the salt water below.

  “You’re still at the palace?” Hap asked.

  Sable nodded and pushed her dark curls behind one ear. “Everything is so beautiful there.”

  “And Prince Loden is treating you well?” Hap watched her face carefully.

  “He’s very nice to Aunt Fay. And to me,” she replied. She rocked from side to side, inching closer to Hap.

  Hap’s teeth gnawed on his upper lip. He wasn’t sure if it was safe to tell what they suspected about Loden and his murderous desire for the crown. “But nothing . . . bothers you about him?” he ventured.

  Sable peered at him with her head at a curious angle. “What do you mean? No, the prince is very nice. Although . . .” She kicked her legs, hitting the rock below with her heels.

  “What?” Hap said, urging her.

  “He doesn’t want us going off on our own. We had to sneak away just to visit you! Whenever Fay wants to see the other parts of the city, he insists on coming along. Or he sends another man with us . . . and I don’t like that fellow very much.”

  Hap knew who she meant. “Larcombe, right?”

  She looked up, startled. “Yes, that’s him!”

  “He reminds me of a lizard,” Hap said.

  “Me too!” she cried. She leaned as she laughed, and their shoulders met. The touch sent bolts of lightning down Hap’s legs and into his toes. He took a deep breath and tried to reassemble the thoughts that had just been scrambled inside his brain. He wanted to tell her that Loden was a wicked and ruthless man, and that she and her aunt should leave the palace as soon as they could. His mouth opened, but he hesitated, and at that moment another voice called out from the gatehouse.

  “Sable! Are you there?”

  Sable groaned. “Yes, Aunt Fay!”

  “Come along. We have to go,” Fay called. Hap thought there was an urgent edge to her voice.

  “Oh, so soon?” Sable whined, only for Hap’s ears. Hap stood, and she raised her hand. “Help me up?” He clasped her hand, and she sprang up beside him. “It’s scary on this narrow path,” she said, tightening her grip. Hap gulped and raised an eyebrow. The path wasn’t especially narr
ow at that point, and she hadn’t seemed afraid on the way out. But he walked with her, hand in hand, back to the gatehouse.

  “There was a girl here last time,” Sable said, with calculated innocence. “With only one hand.”

  “Yes, that’s Sophie.”

  “Who is she?”

  Hap looked back at her and saw a sunny smile replace her frown. “She lives here,” he said. “She creates art for Umber’s books. And she is a great archer.”

  “She’s your friend?”

  “Oh yes,” he said. He felt her hand twitch against his palm. The path rounded the gatehouse, and they found Fay inside, already mounted on her horse with Dodd holding the bridle.

  Fay’s eyes looked watery, and her expression was dazed. Her voice shook when she called out. “Come now, Sable. We’ve stayed too long. The prince may think we’ve stolen his horses.” Sable ran to the second horse, and Barkin lifted her onto the saddle. Fay turned and looked at Balfour, with a troubled shake of her head. “Mister Balfour, I don’t know what to make of what you’ve said. I can’t reconcile those words with the prince I’ve come to know. He’s been nothing but kind to me and my niece.”

  Balfour clasped his hands, pleading. “Forgive me, good lady, I hope I didn’t offend you. Promise me you’ll come again? I assure you, Lord Umber will recover soon from this temporary affliction.”

  Fay gazed up at the top of the Aerie. “I will . . . if we can. Please tell Lord Umber we were here,” she said, and she kicked her heels against the sides of the horse. She and Sable trotted down the causeway. Sable looked over her shoulder and waved at Hap, with her lip quivering and her eyes shining.

  Barkin gave a low whistle. “What a filly. And I don’t mean the horse. Did you say something you shouldn’t have, Balfour?”

  Balfour clutched his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “Please don’t salt my wounds. I tried to warn her about Loden. But that scoundrel has her fooled, and now I think I’ve offended her. Two visits, two catastrophes, both my doing. How will I explain this to Umber?”