Jo had to accept congratulations from a hundred different well-wishers, and then the band cranked up, and music drowned out further conversation. People started to dance, and Jo was sucked into the frantic merriment. She didn’t want to dance; she was battered and weary, scared of what the night had in store for her. Time after time she tried to get away, but someone always shouted, “Hey! The lady of the hour is escaping!” and good-naturedly shoved Jo back among the dancers.
Finally she gave in. She began to dance, and soon she forgot her bruises and cuts and aches. Her exhaustion fell away and to her surprise, out of nowhere, she felt brilliant.
Jo spun past the eelmen, thrashing around in a traditional jig, and wove in and out of a high-kicking line of Oona Looch’s daughters. It hit her: she’d really won. She hadn’t been killed. She hadn’t been exposed. She was giddy and flushed, and she felt violently alive. She shook off her fear, forgot her guilt. She didn’t care anymore. She had used the Ichthala’s power, but the world hadn’t collapsed. She hadn’t turned into a monster. The Silent Sisters hadn’t come to get her. Jo felt as though she’d awakened from a long nightmare. And even if what everyone had said was true and the world was about to end, she didn’t care anymore. She’d go out with a bang.
She looked for Ian. He was pushing through the crowd, Oona Looch not far behind, her arms outstretched, shouting, “I can’t wait anymore! I must have you, Ian!”
Jo crossed the room, grabbed Ian’s waist and arm, and started to dance.
“Hey! What are you doing?” said Ian.
“We’re dancing,” said Jo.
“Why?”
“I’m helping you escape Oona Looch,” said Jo. “Dance with me, and she’ll get the hint.”
“Oh, I get it. Thanks, Jo. I owe you one,” said Ian. “But, as you can see, I can’t dance.”
“Let me lead.”
“Hey, you’re good at this!”
“Aunt Lily was grooming me for vaudeville,” said Jo. Then: “I can’t see Oona Looch. Has she given up?”
“No. She’s still coming…she’s almost right behind you,” said Ian.
“We need to drop more hints,” said Jo.
“These subtle hints aren’t working,” said Ian.
“This isn’t subtle,” said Jo, and kissed him.
Ian’s eyes stayed open the whole time. Jo drew it out for as long as possible, her lips mashed up awkwardly against his teeth. She didn’t know what she was doing but she didn’t care.
Oona Looch stopped in her tracks.
Jo turned. “Yes? Can I help you?”
“I never knew…I never…ohhh,” said Oona Looch in a small voice. “I thought Ian and me were going to my love hideaway…it was going to be all swell, and…I had surprises, like a…Are you two…are you…boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“Yes,” said Jo. “We are.”
“Well, do I have egg on my face,” said Oona Looch. “You could’ve told me! And now I’ve gone and made a darned fool of myself. Fair’s fair, I suppose, to the victor go the spoils. Imagine, me trying to seduce your boyfriend on your victory night! My apologies, Miss Larouche.” She turned to Ian. “But you…you broke my heart, Ian. You broke my heart.”
Oona Looch’s face darkened with pent-up emotion, and her body quivered; for a moment it seemed she might burst into frustrated violence; and then she started blubbering. Oona Looch waved away the dozens of handkerchiefs suddenly offered by her daughters—like a sudden display of a hundred flags of surrender—and trudged out of the room, sniffling.
Jo and Ian kept dancing. They danced closer, and her hand was sweating in his. They didn’t speak, but danced for the next song. Jo felt they were walking on thin ice. But she wanted the ice to break. She didn’t know where they would fall, but she wanted to find out.
The band stopped playing, and a bell rang for the midnight feast. Jo and Ian stopped dancing and looked at each other uncertainly.
“So, thanks for getting Oona off my back,” said Ian.
“Did you mind that I kissed you?” said Jo.
“No…no,” said Ian.
They were still holding each other, and neither knew what to do. Slowly they let each other’s hands go and went up to the victor’s table, where Nora and Audrey and the rest of the squires and some of the butlers were already waiting.
Nobody had seen that Jo and Ian had kissed. But as dinner went on, they exchanged glances, and Jo felt something unfamiliar open up inside her. She wondered how it would be different with Ian after tonight.
Nora said, “Hey, does anyone know how Fiona is doing?”
“Still unconscious, but she’s alive,” said Albert. “Jo just knocked her out, that’s all. Say, how did you finally beat her, Jo? Everything was too crazy for me to see.”
Jo looked away. “Just a lucky hit.”
Nora said, “Hey, Jo. Chatterbox kept nagging me while you were dancing. Says he wants an interview.”
“How can Chatterbox sleep?” thundered Sefino. “Now he’s twisting the arms of my friends to dig up dirt about me! Jo, don’t do the interview. He’ll take advantage of your generosity in the afterglow of victory, and wrangle all manner of scuttlebutt from you.”
“Sefino,” said Jo patiently, “do you think it’s possible Chatterbox might really want to ask about the duel and not just you?”
“Jo, Jo. Always the naive crumpet. He’ll start with the duel, of course, but before you know it, you’ll be deluged with shameless inquires such as ‘What manner of scandalous underclothes does Sefino wear?’ or ‘What unnatural vices does Sefino practice when alone?’”
“Fortunately I can’t answer those questions.”
“Jo, he’s diabolical. Beware his perfidious machinations.”
“I thought Chatterbox didn’t even write about you anymore.”
“Undoubtedly Chatterbox is conserving his resources for a final, all-out onslaught of libel,” said Sefino. “What can I do, other than wait for the inevitable slander? It is widely claimed that I have the patience of a saint. I do not necessarily dispute such claims.”
“By the way, thanks for making the armor.”
“Further proof of my virtue,” said Sefino. “Needless to say, the Snitch never publishes anything about my tireless charity work.”
Audrey suddenly stood up, her eyes narrowed.
“What’s wrong?” said Jo.
“Um…nothing.” Audrey gazed around the room as though searching for someone. “I’ll be back in a second.” She dropped her napkin on her plate and walked quickly away.
Jo didn’t have time to wonder, for she saw a familiar friend across the ballroom. With a shout of joy she leaped up and dashed toward Ethelred, who had just been brought in by some of the Dome of Doom’s ostrich doctors, freshly bandaged and cleaned up.
“Are you all right, Ethelred?” said Jo, hugging him and burying her nose in his feathers. “Fiona didn’t hurt you, did she?”
The doctor said, “He’s banged around, but he’s not seriously injured. He’s probably more upset that Fiona forced him to fight against you.”
Ethelred gurgled and sheepishly looked away. Jo whispered in his ear: “It’s okay, Ethelred. I understand. Look at me. I’m proud of you.”
Ethelred peeped back up at Jo, making little squawks, and seemed to smile. Then he carefully nipped Jo’s shoulder. Ethelred was given a place of honor at Jo’s table, with all the lizards and weeds he could eat. (The ostrich had impeccable table manners.)
It was a half hour later, during dessert, that Jo saw Dame Isabel and Sir Alasdair out of the corner of her eye, entering the ballroom with grim faces. Then a dozen policemen came in after them. Jo put down her fork, her hand trembling. She looked around the room for Dame Delia, Sir Festus, Sir Oort, any of the knights who had supported her duel.
They were gone.
“Attention!” shouted Dame Isabel. “Quiet, all! We are here to make an arrest!”
Everyone saw the policemen. The buzz of conversation died.
>
“Aw, Isabel, what gives?” shouted someone. “Okay, Jo Larouche dueled, it was illegal, but big deal—why rain on her parade now?”
“Dueling is the least of Jo Larouche’s crimes!” shouted Dame Isabel. “I knew about the duel, of course. You’d have to be deaf and blind and an idiot not to! But that’s not why I’m here. Ever since Jo Larouche arrived among us,” she growled, pointing at Jo and approaching her, “she has lied to, endangered, and bamboozled all of Eldritch City. But tonight she will be exposed!”
“What are you talking about?” yelled someone else.
“I could mention the ring we found in Jo’s room,” said Dame Isabel, and Jo’s stomach dropped. “I could even mention that, by order of the mayor, all Odd-Fish knights are now under arrest. Sir Alasdair and I volunteered to go to jail as well. I thought I’d never say this, but today I am ashamed to be an Odd-Fish. But I won’t bother listing all the evidence. I just want to hear Jo deny it and add one more lie to her mountain of lies! Go ahead, Jo. Tell everyone you’re not the Hazelwood baby. Tell them you’re not the Ichthala—tell them you’re not the All-Devouring Mother!”
Jo tried to force words out of her mouth. Nothing came.
“Do you deny it?” said Dame Isabel. “Go on, deny it! Why stop lying now?”
Jo turned to Ian. “Ian…”
Ian shrank away, shaking his head in shock.
“You won’t admit it?” said Dame Isabel, standing over Jo. “Well, here’s what we found in Dame Lily’s room! It turns out it was she who had cut that hole from the tapestry. And why?”
Dame Isabel unfurled a ragged piece of tapestry for all to see. It was a picture of the Silent Sisters, standing in a circle, bowing to a girl in the center.
The girl was unmistakably Jo.
Jo said, “I’m—don’t—it’s not—”
“You still deny it?” shrieked Dame Isabel. “Then let’s show everyone the final proof!”
Dame Isabel grabbed Jo roughly and turned her around. Jo shut her eyes tight as Dame Isabel tore open the back of her dress, exposing her neck. The room broke into screams.
“Look, Ichthala!” said Dame Isabel, pushing a mirror into Jo’s hand. “Look at what you’re turning into!”
Jo took the mirror in her shaking hand and forced herself to look. The wound had become much worse—scaly and reptilian now, oozing with black blood, bristling with hair, its lips trembling, gasping like a small gray mouth.
It was true. She was turning into a monster.
“What more proof do you need?” shouted Dame Isabel hoarsely. “You see the wound. She went to the Belgian Prankster in secret, she did it willingly! She is already half monster! Jo is the All-Devouring Mother!”
Jo looked around in desperation. Everyone was edging away from her. Nora screamed and hid her face. Ian stared at Jo with uncomprehending terror. Jo looked for Audrey, but Audrey had disappeared.
“Arrest her!” ordered Dame Isabel, and the policemen approached Jo as everyone else scrambled away.
“But I’m not bad!” said Jo. “I don’t want to hurt anyone!”
“More lies!” screamed Dame Isabel. “We can’t take a chance with a liar! Arrest her, lock her up, expel her from the city, anything—do something before it’s too late!”
“I’m not evil!” said Jo, and then the policemen seized her.
The mountain lurched. All the lights went out. The Dome of Doom went black, a tumult of rumbles, scrapes, and cracks shot through the mountain, echoing all around the cavern, and the floor swayed and jolted, upsetting tables and chairs, knocking everyone to the floor. Jo felt the blood oozing out of her wound. She was making the earthquake happen. The All-Devouring Mother was shrieking inside her, all of the Ichthala’s rage was spraying out, and she was helpless against it. And yet it was her. Every tremble of her stomach shook the mountain; every heartbeat made the city quake.
Jo staggered away into the darkness, trying to avoid being trampled as the party broke into mayhem. The policemen spread out, trying to restore order, and Jo heard Dame Isabel shouting over the crowd’s roar, “Get her! Don’t let her escape!”
Jo felt her way along the wall and bumped into someone in the darkness.
Ian’s voice: “Who are you?”
“It’s Jo. Help me, Ian. I don’t—”
“Get away from me. Get away from me or I’ll shout and everyone will know where you are.”
“Ian, please don’t—”
“You killed my mother. You lied to me!”
“Ian—”
He pushed her to the ground. “Get away from me!”
Jo scrambled away and ran into the darkness. She blundered out of the ballroom, running into people, tripping over them, but she didn’t slow down. She remembered talking with Ian, riding on the elephant together, on their way to the Municipal Squires Authority, when he’d said that even if Aunt Lily was arrested, Jo could rely on him.
It hadn’t meant anything.
A little thing she didn’t even know was inside her, that some part of her had been secretly tending, was ripped out, and part of her came with it. Jo didn’t know where she was going. She didn’t care. She ran blindly into the stadium area of the Dome of Doom.
The Silent Sisters were waiting for her.
They glowed blue in the darkness, veils and gowns rippling in an invisible wind, holding out their clutching bony hands. Jo screamed but couldn’t hear anything—all sound was gone except for an old woman’s voice, itching deep inside her brain. Jo spun, ran—toward more shimmering blue Silent Sisters, gliding from the opposite hallway, reaching out for her.
Jo turned and sprinted toward the elevator room. She found and jabbed the button in the darkness. Nothing happened. She hit it. Again nothing. The blue light down the hall grew stronger. She felt around tremblingly, looking for the door to the stairs. The blue was getting brighter, looming behind her, starting to light up the room.
A chilly fingertip touched her shoulder.
Jo yelled and tore up the stairs, three at a time. She didn’t have the strength to run, but she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t look back, but she knew the Silent Sisters were right behind her, fluttering up the stairs, shimmering in the darkness like jets of gas flame—Jo burst through a door and suddenly she was out on the streets of Lower Brondo.
It was three in the morning. The city was in a pandemonium. The earthquake had jolted buildings out of their foundations, and they slumped against each other, knocking each other down like dominoes. Flames leaped out of windows, smoke billowed in dirty dark clouds, and the streets were full of people running around in panic.
A glimmering blue Silent Sister was skimming down the street—everyone scattered before her, screaming, not looking back. Then the Silent Sister saw Jo and spread her arms wide, bobbing and sailing toward her.
“There she is!” said someone. “The Hazelwood monster!”
“I’m not a monster!” shouted Jo.
A mob was coming toward her, too, their faces ugly with rage, ready to tear her apart. Two more Silent Sisters appeared from opposite directions, floating and fluttering toward Jo, their arms outstretched. Jo was trapped.
A yellow sedan skidded around the corner, crashing through the mob, roaring straight toward Jo. It spun to a stop, the door flew open, and Audrey yelled, “Get in!”
Jo dived into the backseat, bricks and rocks thunked against the car, and Audrey floored it, screeching away, veering onto the sidewalk, nearly running over people in the mob.
“Since when do you have a car?” shouted Jo.
“I just stole it. Keep your head down!”
Jo ducked below the window. “Where did you go? What happened to you?”
“I saw the knights were being escorted out of the party,” said Audrey. “When they didn’t come back I got suspicious. I slipped away and found out what Dame Isabel had planned. By then the police weren’t letting anyone back down into the Dome of Doom, so I couldn’t warn you. Then the earthquake happened, so I stol
e this car and started driving around looking for you. I knew you’d find a way out.”
“How did you know?” said Jo.
“Because it’s true, isn’t it,” said Audrey, her hands tightening on the wheel. “You are who they say you are.”
Jo curled up. “You know who I am?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you hate me, too?”
“No. I guess I identify with your character?” Audrey grimaced. “I wish you’d told me. You could’ve trusted me.”
“Do you really think I’m…the All-Devouring Mother?”
“You know I never bought that Silent Sisters nonsense. Look, I don’t care who they say you are—I’m not going to let a bunch of crazy people kill you.”
Jo felt she could hardly breathe. “Can you get me out of the city?”
“All the city gates are locked and guarded. Nobody’s getting out. You’re going to have to hide somewhere in the city.”
“Where could I possibly hide?” said Jo.
Audrey paused. Then she said, “Nobody would expect you to hide in the lodge, would they? It’s big, and there’s lots of hidden rooms—I won’t tell anyone, I swear! Not even Ian. I could visit you secretly, bring you food, and a few months later, after this blows over, I’ll help you escape for real. Good plan?”
It sounded like a terrible plan. “Thanks, Audrey. You’re a good friend.”
They drove a while in silence.
“Actually, you’re my only friend,” Jo added at last.
“What?”
“Ian and Nora—when they found out—”
“Put it out of your mind,” said Audrey firmly. “Forget about it. They were shocked. Whatever they said or did, it’s not what they really feel.”
“But Ian blames me for killing his mom, Nora’s obsessed with crazy myths about me. I never told them who I really am, and they were my—”
“One day it’ll be all right,” said Audrey. “You have to believe that. But today, no. Today you have to stay away from them.”
Jo held herself tight, rocking on the floor of the backseat as Audrey yanked the steering wheel, stepped on the gas, and zigzagged down the streets. Finally Jo said, “Why are you the only one who doesn’t mind that I’ve been lying all this time?”
The Order of Odd-Fish Page 35