Falcon Quinn and the Black Mirror

by Jennifer Finney Boylan

  “Poem,” said Sparkbolt, taking a deep breath, and then he read the following.

  “ROSES—RED!

  VIOLETS—BLUE!

  HUMANS—DESTROY.”

  Sparkbolt looked up at Falcon self-consciously. “It just first draft,” he said.

  “Hey, Sparkbolt,” said Falcon. “That might just be the greatest poem I have ever heard.”

  Sparkbolt’s entire face changed as Falcon said this. His features were no longer those of a being without hope or love, but of one who thought that perhaps even he, of all creatures, deserved these things as well. He clapped Falcon on the shoulders and lifted him in the air with his gigantic arms. “Ah! Ah! Ah!” said Sparkbolt in an inarticulate gasp of delight. “Ah! Ah! Ah!”

  “You’re a poet,” said Falcon. “Congratulations!”

  He put Falcon down. “FALCON QUINN! FRIEND! FRIEND! FRIEND!”

  “Sure, Sparkbolt,” said Falcon. “Falcon Quinn, friend. Will you remember that? If anything happens to me?”

  “Happen?” said Sparkbolt uncertainly. “Nothing happen Falcon Quinn.” The Frankenstein’s face was consumed with melancholy, and tears rushed into his sallow eyes. “Falcon Quinn—SAFE!”

  Falcon patted Sparkbolt’s shoulder. “Sparkbolt safe too,” he said.

  Sparkbolt looked at Falcon hopefully. “Sparkbolt—read poem AGAIN?”

  “Of course,” Falcon told Sparkbolt. He’d be glad to hear the poem again, and he stood there in awe as the happy, deformed monster read his poem once more, from the beginning.

  After dinner that night, Falcon took Destynee aside. “You think we could take a walk?” he said. “Just the two of us?”

  “Oh, Falcon,” said Destynee, blushing. “Of course! Of course!”

  “It’s just walking,” said Falcon.

  “I know what it is,” said Destynee. They strolled outside the castle and walked across Grisleigh Quad.

  “So, did you hear about Weems’s boat?” said Falcon.

  “Yeah,” said Destynee. “Megan told me about it.”

  “Megan knows about it?”

  “Jonny told her.”

  “Ah,” said Falcon.

  “Jonny tells her everything,” said Destynee. “They’re really close. Just like you and I are close.”

  “Yeah,” said Falcon. “Listen, Destynee. It might be that Jonny and I—and Weems—have to get out of here.”

  “But you can’t,” said Destynee, looking at Falcon in distress. “You can’t.”

  “We might have to,” said Falcon. “The teachers say they’re going to turn us into stone.”

  “They won’t do that,” said Destynee. “They just won’t.”

  “Yeah, but if it looks like they might? Jonny and Weems and I are going to use the boat. And if we do, I wonder if you—I wonder if you’d come with us. Come with me. I mean.”

  Destynee’s mouth opened, then closed. She shuddered. “Oh, Falcon, I—I never thought you’d—I—Wuggghh!”

  Suddenly Destynee transformed completely into a giant slug. She sat there glistening in the moonlight. Falcon thought, Great.

  At this moment Falcon heard footsteps. “Eee-eewww,” said a voice. He looked over to see Merideath walking by with her friend Wakeful, another vampire girl from the Tower of Blood. “Hey look, Wakeful! It’s Falcon Quark, and his girlfriend. The slug!”

  “Eee-ewww,” said Wakeful.

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” said Falcon loudly. “I don’t even like her!”

  Destynee began to wriggle and writhe, and Falcon blushed. “I mean—”

  “A match made in heaven,” said Merideath, and she and Wakeful walked off, laughing. There was a shuddering sound, and then Destynee was herself again, now covered in glistening slime.

  “Oh, Falcon,” said Destynee.

  “I’m sorry I said that,” said Falcon. “Really I am.”

  “I understand, Falcon,” said Destynee. “It’s true. No one will ever fall in love with me, I know it. Because of what I am. I’m horrible! Horrible!”

  “You’re not horrible,” said Falcon. “You’re just a giant enchanted slug. There’s a big difference.”

  Destynee sighed. “I have to stay here, Falcon,” said Destynee. “It’s my only hope. To stay here, and to learn how to be human. If I go with you, I’ll wind up a slug forever. And you’ll never be able to—see me. For what I am.”

  “I can see you, Destynee.”

  “No, you can’t,” said Destynee, her voice catching. “I’m invisible to you, because of what I am!” Tears began to pour out of her eyes, but as they ran down her face, they hissed and steamed.

  “What’s going on?” said Falcon. “What’s happening?”

  “The tears,” said Destynee. “They’re salty!” Little rivulets of slime began to drip down her cheeks as Destynee’s face dissolved.

  “What can we do?” said Falcon, looking on in alarm.

  “I have to stop crying,” said Destynee. “Forever.”

  “Destynee—”

  “I have to stop thinking about you, Falcon. That’s the only way to stop the tears. Good-bye, Falcon,” she said, running back toward the castle. “Good-bye!”

  Falcon stood there and watched her run away from him. As he did, a light went on in one of the gingerbread houses, and one of the green men looked out the window at him.

  Falcon looked at the green man and sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “I think that went well.”

  That night Falcon lay on his bunk, waiting. Once he heard Lincoln begin to snore, Falcon said, “Jonny? You awake?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Guess you heard about me and Destynee?”

  “Jeez, Falcon. You almost melted her.”

  “I asked her to come on Weems’s boat with us, but she said she has to stay here. She really wants to learn how to stop being a slug.”

  “Do you blame her?”

  “No. Doesn’t look too good for me, though.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  They lay there in silence for a while. Then Falcon asked, “Hey, what happened with Sparkbolt and Willow today? Was there a fight or something?”

  Jonny chuckled wickedly. “Old Willow, yeah. I took her down a couple pegs.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Aw, she was messing with Sparkbolt again. She encourages him to write poems, you know? Then she tells him his poems aren’t any good. I mean, she oughtta praise him for writing anything instead of constantly telling him to revise and rewrite his work. You think it’s easy, writing poems when you’re sewn out of other people’s guts? It’s not.” As he said this, Jonny’s voice grew louder and angrier.

  “Jonny,” said Falcon, “do you think you really could, like, explode if you got too riled up? That’s what they’re worried about, I think. Some kind of—meltdown.”

  “Yeah. They don’t care if I blow up—they’re just worried I’ll take down one of their prize pupils instead, like those vampires, or the weredogs. I tell you what, it’d be worth it, just to get rid of Merideath or her little sidekicks. It would be worth it!”

  “But…,” Falcon said, “that’s not going to happen. Is it?”

  The moon came out from behind a cloud, and a long, pale shaft of moonlight shone into the boys’ bedroom in the Tower of Aberrations.

  “I don’t know,” said Jonny.

  At this moment there was a roar from Lincoln’s bunk, and the enormous werebear jumped onto the floor, looked around the room, grabbed a chair, and smashed it against the wall.

  “Here we go again,” said Jonny.

  Jonny turned on the light, and the bear looked at Falcon, then Jonny, and roared again. He leaped toward them. All five hundred pounds of him grabbed the lamp and smashed this on the floor. Then he picked up Jonny, right out of his bed, and threw him against the wall.

  “Ooompf,” said Jonny.

  “Hey, Lincoln,” said Falcon, “it’s us. Your friends? Quit it! What’s wrong with you?”

  “You idiot,” said Jo
nny angrily, getting up on his feet. “I’ve had it with you! Had it!”

  The bear roared at him, and Falcon, noticing that Jonny was beginning to glow, said, “Jonny. Hey. Temper.”

  “You tell the bear to watch his temper. I’m not the one tearing the room apart.”

  The werebear growled again, then turned toward the door and went bounding out into the parlor. There was the sound of more furniture being overturned, more things smashing and breaking on the floor, and then the clomp of Lincoln’s paws descending the circular stairs down to the main floor of the castle. Jonny got back on his feet, rubbing his head where the bear had thrown him against the wall.

  “Hey, Jonny,” said Falcon. “You all right?”

  “Terrific,” said Jonny darkly. They walked out into the parlor, where another chair had been smashed, and a painting torn off the wall, and a table overturned. “Hey, he knocked my guitar over!” said Jonny. “He busted my E string!”

  The door to the girls’ room opened. “What is this infernal racket?” shouted Pearl. “¡Ai! The werebear! He is loose once more upon the world!”

  Megan, still rubbing her eyes, came out of the room, followed by Destynee. “What’s going on?” she said.

  “Werebear’s goin’ on a little field trip,” said Jonny.

  “Where is he?” said Destynee.

  “He went downstairs,” said Falcon. “He’s probably tearing up the castle.”

  “We must retrieve this one,” said Pearl. “And bring him back to safety.”

  “What do we care?” said Destynee. “Let him go. The teachers will get him.”

  Jonny sighed. “No, no, we gotta go get him,” he said. “Before he hurts himself, the moron.”

  “And we care,” said Destynee, “why?”

  Jonny sighed. “Let’s just say it’s a good deed,” he said.

  “If you’re going,” said Megan, looking at Jonny, “I’m going.”

  “I oughtta go too, then,” said Falcon, and blushed. “To look out for you, Megan.”

  “Then I’m going too,” said Destynee, and blushed in exactly the same way.

  “That’s all good,” said Jonny, “but the one we really need is Pearl. That stinger might come in handy if we have to subdue a savage beast.”

  “So it shall be,” said Pearl. “I shall lend my stinger to this quest. Together we shall embark upon this nocturnal adventure—”

  “Guys,” said Megan.

  “—of danger and desperation!” continued Pearl. “Together we five shall hunt this wild untamed bear, and return him to—”

  “Guys,” said Megan again.

  “What?” said Pearl.

  She pointed to the floor. “Quimby,” she said.

  There, on the floor, was Quimby’s jar, shattered. The broken glass was surrounded by a viscous, steaming jelly.

  Quimby’s eyes were closed.

  “Is he…?” said Destynee.

  “No,” said Megan. “He’s breathing. He’s…I guess he’s been knocked out?”

  “Whoa, look at all the junk he’s got in the jelly,” said Destynee. “He’s like a total pack rat. I mean, uh, pack head.”

  “Hey, look,” said Jonny, picking up something. “A ring of keys.”

  “What do you think they open?” said Megan.

  “Guess we’ll find out,” said Jonny.

  They looked at the head, lying there in its spilled jelly. There was a long rope around the bottom of Quimby’s neck, fastened like a necktie.

  As they watched, the head made a soft hissing sound. It pulsed, then slowly began to swell. The pieces of broken glass from the jar were pushed aside as the head grew larger.

  Quimby’s eyes opened, and he looked around. “Where am I? What’s—?” Slowly he began to rise in the air, like a helium balloon.

  “What’s he doing?” said Jonny.

  “He’s inflating. And rising.”

  “Grab the bottom of the rope!” said Pearl. “Grab it!”

  “I’m freeee!” said Quimby. “I’m—”

  What happened next happened very quickly. Quimby rose in the air, still hissing and swelling, and as he rose he began to drift across the room. They all saw the open window at the far side of the parlor at the same moment.

  “Somebody grab his rope!” said Destynee.

  But a breeze swept through the room, and in an instant, Quimby blew out the window. The young monsters rushed to the window, a second behind him, and saw Quimby drifting toward the eaves of the Tower of Souls. “Help,” shouted the head. “I’m blowing away!”

  “Pearl,” said Jonny, “can you fly up there and get him?”

  “I shall do this thing,” said Pearl. “I shall fly toward this drifting head, and bring him back to our tower! Away!” Pearl’s wings buzzed, and she flew out the window in pursuit of Quimby.

  The others watched as Pearl flew after the inflating head, but even as they watched, he swelled still further. By the time Pearl reached him, Quimby was the size of a monster truck tire, and the Chupakabra’s repeated, strenuous efforts could not haul him back to the Tower of Aberrations. They saw Pearl’s wings buzzing back and forth, faster than ever, but Quimby just kept floating up and up, until at last he lodged underneath the hanging roof of the Tower of Souls. There was a clonking sound as Quimby’s head bonked against the overhang.

  “Ow!” he shouted. “Ow!”

  “He’s stuck underneath that slanting roof,” said Megan.

  “Great,” said Falcon. “Now what?”

  Pearl was tugging and tugging at Quimby’s rope. The others stood at the window watching her struggle, but he was too much for her. After several minutes, Pearl came back to the window, exhausted.

  “I cannot retrieve him,” said Pearl, humiliated. “I have been defeated.”

  “But you pulled us,” said Megan. “On our first night here, you flew with both Falcon and me in your hands.”

  “I do not understand it either,” said Pearl. “Except to say that this Quimby seems to levitate with a force of his own. I am no match for this force.”

  “Help!” Quimby shouted. “Help!”

  “We have to get him,” said Jonny. “We can’t leave him stuck up there.”

  “I thought you said we had to go get Lincoln Pugh back,” said Destynee.

  “It is a busy night!” said Pearl. “Full of unexpected and irritating tasks!”

  “We have to get up to the Tower of Souls,” said Megan, looking out the window. “If we can get up to the clock tower, we can probably reach him.”

  “If I—la Chupakabra, the famous goatsucker of Peru—was not able to restrain this Quimby, how is it possible that this task might be performed by another?”

  “I think I might be able to blow him back,” said Megan. “If I can get close enough to him. Using my wind powers.”

  Jonny thought it over. “How about me, Pearl, and Destynee look for Linky? Pearl, we’ll need your stinger if we find him. And Megan shouldn’t go alone to the Tower of Souls. You can look out for Megan, okay, Falcon?” Jonny gave Falcon a brief, intense glance.

  “Yeah, okay,” said Falcon.

  “I want to go with them,” said Destynee.

  “I need you with me and Pearl, Dez,” said Jonny. “In case you don’t remember, that bear is big.”

  Destynee sighed. “Okay,” she said. She didn’t sound happy about it.

  “Let us depart then, on this mission,” said Pearl. “To rescue the bear of night, and the head loosened from his imprisoning jelly. For this we fight!”

  “Pearl,” said Destynee. “Is it possible for us ever to just, like, do something without making a big production out of it?”

  “This is not the large production!” said Pearl. “For creatures such as ourselves, this is nothing! A production of no consequence!!”

  “Can we just go?” said Destynee. “Please?”

  “We ride forth!” said Pearl, and buzzed down the stairs. The others looked at her, then at each other, and followed the Chupakabra
down the stairs and into the heart of the sleeping castle.

  14

  WITHIN THE CLOCK

  Lincoln Pugh’s trail wasn’t hard to follow. He’d gone down the narrow staircase from the Tower of Aberrations, tearing and clawing at the walls as he descended; broken down the door at the bottom; then proceeded to lay waste to the third-floor hallway of Castle Grisleigh. There was a line of overturned statuary, ripped-up wallpaper, and clawed furniture that led from the door for the tower and down the hall.

  The third floor of the castle was a square area with an open center, bordered by a wooden railing. The grand staircase that began on the first floor ended here, and at each of the corners there was a doorway that led up to one of the four dormitory towers. Falcon and his companions walked clockwise around the floor, across the worn Oriental carpets. The door that led to the stairway for the Tower of Moonlight was at the first corner they came to. The next, diagonally across from their own tower, was for the Tower of Blood. Finally, three-quarters of the way around from where they’d begun, was the door for the Tower of Science.

  “But how do we get to the Tower of Souls?” said Falcon. “That’s in the middle, between these other four, but there’s no entrance. Not unless there’s a trapdoor in the ceiling.” They all paused and looked up at the place where they knew the Tower of Souls began—above the center of the grand staircase, far overhead. There was a huge, ornate chandelier hanging down from the center of the ceiling, an enormous monstrosity covered with tiny hanging crystals and flickering candles. The whole thing was enshrouded with spiderwebs, some of which trailed, the threads broken, down into the center of the stairwell.

  “I think I know where the entrance is,” said Megan.

  “What?” said Pearl. “Why have you not spoken of this before? Surely this is the clue for which we seek!”

  “Well, I’m not totally sure,” said Megan. “But downstairs, on the first floor? Just before you go into the classroom wing, there’s a door that says ‘Tempus Fugit.’ I saw it when I was on my way to Shame class.”

  “Tempus what?” said Destynee.

  “Time flies?” said Jonny.

  “I do not understand,” said Pearl.

  “When we first got here—remember, Falcon? Mrs. Redflint said that the Tower of Souls was the domain of the clockmaster.”