The Order of Odd-Fish

by James Kennedy

  Hoagland Shanks, hat in hand, sat down nervously across the desk from Ken Kiang. “I gotta admit, Kenny, I don’t feel good about being here. That was a weird message you left me. I almost…”

  His voice died.

  “Yes, but you did come, didn’t you?” said Ken Kiang softly. “You came.”

  “Yes,” said Hoagland Shanks, staring at the floor in shame.

  JO and Ian sat in a gloomy parlor, waiting for an old woman to speak. Even though it was a sunny afternoon, the room was dim and dreary: ancient lace drapes strangled the sunlight, and all was silent except for a loudly ticking clock. It was the sitting room of Lady Agnes, and the old woman sat far across the room, mumbling in the shadows.

  Jo couldn’t stop her leg from jiggling. For weeks she and Ian had waited for Lady Agnes to call them about their quest, so long that Jo almost believed Lady Agnes had forgotten. Ian had gone sour on the whole enterprise—“It’s insulting to make us wait like this, even if she is Lady Agnes!”—and the last of his enthusiasm vanished when other squires told him just how ridiculous Lady Agnes’s quests could be. “Maybe we should’ve let Dugan do this,” said Ian as they rode the subway to her house.

  The butler showed Jo and Ian into the parlor where Lady Agnes waited. She was a withered noodle of a woman, her ancient skin gray and wrinkled, her face hidden by thick dark veils. For a long time she didn’t speak. Then she suddenly rasped, in tones of incredulous disdain:

  “You are Ian Barrows and Jo Larouche? I expected squires to look more impressive!”

  “We are squires of the Odd-Fish,” snapped Ian, “and that should be enough for you. We expected something better than being ignored for two months.”

  “Do you use a napkin when you eat?” Lady Agnes peered closer at Ian. “It seems you left bits of your breakfast on your lip.”

  There was an icy silence.

  “That,” said Ian with tightly controlled rage, “is a mustache.”

  Lady Agnes lost it. She hooted, gurgled, and shrieked, her bony body shaking as though it might break into bits. “Hoo nelly, that’s rich! A mustache! Oh, you can’t make this stuff up!” she whooped. “Butler, get in here with some cake! Oh, the poor dear thinks he has a mustache! Too much!”

  Ian silently seethed as the butler served cold tea and moldy cake. Lady Agnes fumbled with her fork, straining to lift a bite; finally she gave up, panting, “This cake is too heavy.”

  After a moment Jo said, “Do you need help?”

  “Ooo-hoo-hoo! Oh, I wouldn’t say no.”

  Lady Agnes’s gray chin poked out from the veil, and her shriveled lips parted with relish. Jo guided a forkful of cake into the ancient mouth, and the lips closed with an effort, disappearing back into the shadows of the veil, smacking dryly.

  Ian exhaled. “Lady Agnes, we’ve been waiting for weeks. What’s our—”

  “Someone is trying to murder me!” croaked Lady Agnes with sudden energy, and Jo and Ian were startled into silence. Lady Agnes snickered, drawing from her robes a jeweled key on a necklace. “That is why I didn’t let you in my house for two months. Nobody comes in! This is the only key to this house, and I keep it around my neck at all times. Meanwhile, I was researching your backgrounds. Very carefully. Very thoroughly. Oh, there’s nothing about Ian Barrows and Jo Larouche that I don’t know.”

  A rattling cackle emerged from the veil. Jo fidgeted. She couldn’t possibly know about my secret, she thought. Could she?

  Ian said steadily, “Why do you think someone’s trying to murder you?”

  “I have received dozens of threatening letters,” said Lady Agnes. “And all signed with a mysterious name I do not recognize: Duddler Yarue! Have you heard of Duddler Yarue? No? Then that is your first task. Who is Duddler Yarue? How does—”

  “I’m sorry, Lady Agnes,” said Ian. “But this isn’t a job for squires. If you really think this, um, ‘Duddler Yarue’ plans to kill you, you should go to the police.”

  “Impossible! I committed spectacular crimes in my wild youth. If the police knew I was alive, they’d throw me in prison in a split second. You must stop Duddler Yarue on your own!”

  “Oh, come on, this isn’t a proper quest,” said Ian with rising irritation. “It’s something out of a bad detective novel! Duddler Yarue—what kind of name is that? You obviously made it up! This is just another of your joke quests—we all know you’re just doing it to make idiots out of us!”

  Lady Agnes growled, “Are you accusing me of lying?”

  “Of course you’re lying!” Ian nearly shouted. “Nobody’s trying to murder you, there is no Duddler Yarue, you’re just a crazy old woman and you’re wasting our time!”

  Just then a rock crashed through the window, flying through the crumbling curtains, sending clouds of dust blooming and swirling. Lady Agnes yanked a blanket over herself, shrieking, “Duddler Yarue! He’s come for me at last! I’m doomed, it’s all over!” Ian sprang up and flung open the curtains to see who it was, and Jo tried to help Lady Agnes, but she howled back, “Don’t touch me! And close the drapes—sunlight makes my skin itch! Oh, Duddler Yarue, make my death swift and merciful, ah, ah!”

  Ian picked up the rock, looking at it in surprise. He poked Jo and handed it to her. There was something written on it:

  Jo Larouche and Ian Barrows—

  If you want to live, don’t try to help the villainous Lady Agnes.

  Sincerely, Duddler Yarue

  “What does it say?” screeched Lady Agnes from under the blanket.

  “Um, nothing,” muttered Jo. She and Ian looked at each other in bafflement.

  “I have a right to know what’s written on rocks thrown through my window!” wailed Lady Agnes, clutching her jeweled key in terror.

  The butler ran into the room, out of breath. “What is the matter, milady? I heard a crash….”

  “Duddler Yarue, it’s Duddler Yarue! Go on, get out, you two useless squires! Catch him! Oooo,” groaned the old woman, and fainted.

  As the butler fussed over Lady Agnes, waving smelling salts under her nose and massaging her hands, Jo said to Ian, “What do you think?”

  “We definitely should’ve let Dugan take this quest,” muttered Ian. “Come on—maybe whoever threw this hasn’t gone far.”

  Jo and Ian ran out the door and onto the street.

  The door slammed and locked behind them.

  Jo and Ian searched the neighborhood, but they didn’t really know what they were looking for. It wasn’t clear what “Duddler Yarue” would look like, and anyway, the streets were almost deserted. After a half hour of wandering, Jo despaired of ever making any headway, and was ready to give up when they saw an effeminate boy smoking a cigarette on the corner. He watched Jo and Ian idly.

  “Hey!” said Ian. “Did you see who threw a rock through Lady Agnes’s window?”

  “What’s it to you?” said the boy.

  “We don’t have time to explain,” said Ian quickly. “Have you seen anyone suspicious?”

  The boy looked away, uninterested.

  “Great, thanks,” muttered Ian. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait, he might be our only clue,” said Jo.

  “I have a name, you know,” said the boy. “And from the look of things, I have much more of a clue than either of you.”

  Ian seemed ready to boil over, but Jo cut in, “I’m sorry. We’ve been rude. I’m Jo Larouche, and this is Ian Barrows. What’s your name?”

  “Nick.”

  “Nick what?”

  “Nick—that’s all.” The boy shrugged. “Why, I’m just a lad of the streets.”

  “Fascinating,” said Ian impatiently. “What do you say you use some of your ‘street wisdom’ to tell us where—”

  “Where your guy went? He ran off that way.” Nick waved down the boulevard. “A half hour ago. You’ve lost him.”

  “Really? What did he look like?” said Ian.

  “I don’t know, he was just some guy.” Nick turned away from Ian with distaste; t
hen he seemed to see Jo for the first time. “Say, you look familiar. Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

  “You don’t know her,” said Ian.

  Nick snapped his fingers. “I remember. The newspaper. Came in with Lily Larouche in the fish, right? The new girl in town?”

  Jo was startled and a little pleased. “I didn’t know I was famous.”

  “You can’t ride into Eldritch City on a fish and expect people not to notice,” said Nick. “Is your Dame Lily as dangerous as they say she is?”

  “That, and more,” said Ian. “Keep that in mind, lad of the streets.”

  Nick ignored him. “You know, Jo, there’s more to this town than knights and squires. You want to see the sights? I know a couple of secret places. And I don’t show just anyone.”

  Jo was intrigued, but Ian said, “Thanks, but no. We’re going.”

  “Your friend can come, too, of course,” said Nick, barely looking at him. “I wouldn’t want you to miss it. I’m the only one who knows about it.”

  “I doubt that,” snorted Ian.

  Nick started toward the subway station. “Well, come on, if you want.”

  Jo started following after Nick, but Ian touched her shoulder. “Jo, I don’t like this—there’s something funny about him.”

  “I know,” said Jo, rather enjoying Ian’s jealousy. “I like him.”

  “You’re taking a risk.”

  “I want to take a risk. Are you coming?” Jo went after Nick a couple of steps, then stopped and looked back. Ian teetered back and forth and finally gave in.

  “All right,” he grumbled. “But just to keep an eye on him.”

  When they reached the subway entrance, Nick glanced around to make sure nobody was around, and then nimbly jumped the turnstile. “Don’t bother with tokens. Come on!”

  Ian looked at Nick with contempt. “You’re supposed to pay!”

  Jo usually paid for things, but she was sick of Ian’s attitude. She jumped the turnstile, too, leaving Ian alone on the other side.

  Ian bought three tokens and went through properly.

  “What’s got into you, Jo?” he said.

  They descended to the crowded subway platform and waited for the train. But when the train finally came, Nick just shook his head. The train coughed out a few passengers and took some others on, and then it was gone, hooting down the tunnel. The last straggler climbed up the stairs, and for a moment the platform was deserted.

  Nick hopped down onto the tracks. “Hurry! It’s this way. No point in paying if you’re not riding, right? Don’t touch the tracks!”

  “This is ridiculous. Let’s go, Jo,” said Ian, and started walking away.

  Jo hesitated, caught between two opposite pulls. Nick’s eyes reminded her of something; even if Jo didn’t exactly trust him, she wanted to follow him anyway. Almost without thinking, she climbed down.

  “Jo!” shouted Ian; but finally he, too, jumped down, and went after them.

  They followed Nick down into the dark, dripping train tunnel. Soon they had gone so far that there was almost no light to see. Nick cleared away some trash, revealing a hole in the corner, and climbed down, jerking his head to indicate they should follow. And then he was gone.

  “I suppose he takes all the ladies here,” said Ian.

  “Will you stop it?” said Jo. “If you don’t want to come with us, then don’t.”

  “I should stop it? Do you know how stupid you’re being?” Ian shouted. “You met this kid ten minutes ago, and now you’re following him down into who knows where! This is Eldritch City, Jo, not a game. It’s dangerous.” He took her arm.

  “Let me go!” said Jo, twisting away. “I want to do this. I can tell he won’t do anything bad.”

  “You can, can you? I’m not so sure.”

  “I’m going.” The more Ian resisted, the more she wanted to go. “You don’t have to come.”

  “But if anything happened to you—”

  “I can take care of myself,” said Jo.

  “No, you can’t,” said Ian. “Nobody can.”

  Nick’s head popped out of the hole. “Hey! Are you two coming or what?”

  Jo looked at Ian, and he slowly let go of her arm. Together they followed Nick down the hole.

  Down, down, down. Nick led them deeper into the cramped and filthy passageways, and the farther they went, the less manmade the passages seemed, becoming darker, slimier, and rougher. Nick had a lantern, but it provided only the weakest dribble of gray light as they crept down ladders and stairways and corridors into the forgotten depths of Eldritch City.

  After a half hour, they stopped in a small round room. There was a wet hole in the floor, coated with slick, spongy moss that gave it a disturbingly fleshy look.

  Nick handed Jo the lantern. “I’ll go first. Wait for one minute and then follow me.”

  “What is it?” said Jo, bewildered.

  “That would be telling. See you.” Nick crawled headfirst into the hole, which suddenly contracted and slurped, and then he was gone.

  “What is that?” Jo moved closer to Ian. “Where is he taking us?”

  Ian looked around warily. “It could be anything. Eldritch City is thousands of years old, built on ruins built on ruins, going back to who knows when. We might very well see something only Nick knows about.”

  Jo felt a creeping panic building inside her. She wanted out of these filthy, cramped tunnels. The lantern cast weird shadows, strange noises echoed through the darkness, and the hole was almost unbearably disgusting to look at—almost like a sloppy, drooling mouth.

  “Ian…I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” said Jo.

  “We might be able to find our way back…,” said Ian doubtfully; then he shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll go first. Just to make sure.”

  Ian climbed down the hole—and with a sickening slurp, he was gone, too.

  Jo felt her stomach curl. Now she was alone. Why did I come down here? she thought. She liked Nick and had enjoyed making Ian jealous, but now she was so nervous she could hardly see, she couldn’t swallow, and the walls seemed to be growing thicker, drawing closer…She turned around. Maybe she could find her way out.

  But no. She couldn’t leave Ian.

  Jo turned back to the hole. She took a breath and gingerly climbed down into it, little by little, trying to keep her hold. Suddenly there was a huge gulping noise all around her, she lost her grip, and a flood of water swept her away, tumbling and sliding into the twisting darkness. Then the tunnel unexpectedly opened into empty space, and Jo fell far, far down and splashed into a deep pool of water.

  Jo floundered to the surface, coughing and spluttering. Nick and Ian grabbed her arms, dragging her up some slimy steps. They both had torches, and their faces looked strange and red in the flickering fire.

  “Fun ride?” whispered Nick.

  Jo coughed up dirty water. “You’re crazy—I almost got killed in there—”

  Nick looked offended. “Killed? Oh, no, it’s perfectly safe. I ride it all the time.” He spread his arms wide. “For this, my friends, is home!”

  “Home!” said Ian in awe.

  Jo wiped her eyes and looked around. They were in a flooded stone rotunda encrusted with twinkling jewels. Elaborate arched passages led out on either side into watery darkness, and the ceiling of the dome was pierced in the center by a dripping hole.

  It was a cathedral from the early days of Eldritch City, buried by centuries, its stone halls left to rot and ruin under the busy metropolis. It was thousands of years old, and even though it was wrecked and flooded and humbled by age, it was astonishing to see. The dome over their heads was coated with thousands of tiny jewels, blue, green, red, purple, and yellow, arranged in glimmering mosaics of half-human shapes and strange animals, cavorting and twisting all around the ceiling and walls.

  Ian’s contempt of Nick had turned into respect. “How did you find this?”

  “Poking around,” said Nick. “I was looking for a place t
o live. Yeah, I live down here! And it’s not such a bad life—if you’re careful.”

  “Does anything else live down here?” said Jo.

  “Sure. Lots of things. Watch.”

  Nick clapped his hands and whistled. Watery howls answered down the dark tunnel, then splashes and snorts, coming closer. The dark water became a seething broth, churned into a writhing foam, and out of the depths of the flooded cathedral rose three gigantic squids. Jo gasped, and Ian stepped back a few paces, but Nick seemed unconcerned.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “They’re tame, mostly.”

  The squids were each the size of a large car, with rough orange skin, dangling tentacles, and eyes as big as plates. They rolled over, gurgling with pleasure as Nick scratched them. Then Nick waded down the steps and mounted the largest squid.

  “C’mon, get on a squid,” he said. “We’ll go for a ride.”

  Jo and Ian exchanged incredulous looks. But Nick insisted, and eventually Jo cautiously crawled up onto a squid, while Ian got on his. Nick held their torches patiently and, to his credit, did not laugh as Jo and Ian kept falling off, trying to figure out how to sit on them properly.

  “Hold on to their head with one hand, and squeeze them with your legs. That’s it,” said Nick. He handed back their torches. “Let’s go!”

  Nick dug his heels into the squid’s side, and it began swimming toward one of the dark passages leading out of the rotunda. Jo and Ian’s squids followed, pulsing and gliding.

  Jo gazed around in astonishment as they rode the grunting beasts down the glittering tunnels. The cathedral was cracked and stained but encrusted everywhere with thousands of gems, glinting red, green, orange, and blue. The torchlight licked the jewels to glittering life, bringing them glowing out of the darkness like colored stars. Water oozed from the walls, roots dangled from the ceiling, and everywhere gems dripped from grooves and hidden holes, seeming to grow out of the rocky wall, itself shot through with veins of icy sapphire. These jeweled tunnels felt like the roots of the city, laid down when the world was young, holding secrets as old as the world. Jo almost imagined she could hear the secrets, whispered in the darkness.