by James Comins
Chapter Thirty
Introductions
or, Have You Met Your Parents?
Kaldi stood in the illusionary entryway for a moment, then ran to Binnan Darnan and clutched her, kneeling at her side. Everyone crowded around them. Kaldi was shivering; washed-away brown blood matted the hair on the backs of his hands. Binnan Darnan squirmed away from his icy grasp.
“Who is everyone? What happened?” she asked the crowded room, looking from face to face.
“So many things,” gasped Kaldi. “So many things.” Tears filled his eyes as he saw the last of his father’s ashes. “Who--?”
“Me,” said Talvi.
“That’s right,” said Brugda. There was a haggard look about her. She looked like she had just woken up after a coma.
“Is anyone going to introduce everyone?” shouted Binnan Darnan. “Pleeeeze?”
Lenna stepped forward. “This is Pol the Dagda O’Donnell. Um, he’s the one who controls all the rocks.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t think about it too hard. Look! He blew up the wall to rescue you.”
Binnan Darnan curtsied to Pol.
“And, and this is Emily O’Donnell. She’s the other best cook other than Kaldi. You missed the feast! She gave up her magic hammer to um, um, I don’t remember why.”
Binnan Darnan curtsied to Emily, who had retrieved her hammer determinationfully from its pedestal.
“This is Andy Manannan O’Donnell. He’s the best musician in the world, and very brave when he’s not being mad at me.”
Binnan Darnan curtsied to Andy. He skritched his hair awkwardly.
“This is Mo Bagohn. She’s--” Lenna looked at Mo Bagohn and put her hands in the air. “We should go get Wicklow!”
Mo Bagohn squinted at Binnan Darnan. “So you’re the cause of the hullabaloo. Thought you’d be taller.”
“Brugda says I’ll get my growth spurt soon,” said Binnan Darnan, curtsying again.
“Me too! Me too!” shouted Lenna.
“You’re really two of a kind, aren’t you? Before we do anything, I have a sinister matter to settle. You.” Mo Bagohn faced the two angels. “I know you can just drift away to heaven now or wherever angels go. But it was your drattable squabbling that got my Wicklow lost. Could you make sure he’s all right? It’d be the least you could do, by the head of a pin.”
Ljos’ face turned to the floor tragically. “The horse of legend was brought to Doolin. The crystals that gave it life are lost.”
“Dead? Can’t they find those sapphires? They’re hard to miss.”
“Lost to the sea.”
“Miz Bagohn, we should ask Baldur,” said Lenna. “He looks after the sea floor.”
“Suppose so. Well, let’s not wait around like standing stones, get to it! Come along.” She pulled two red witch’s hats out of the air, stuck them onto Lenna and Binnan Darnan’s heads, then waddled out into the passageway.
“So what did I miss?” Binnan Darnan asked as they returned through the drippy caves by the silver light of Andy’s harp.
“You haven’t met Annie Morgan yet. She’s a mile tall and she melts snails.”
“Huh?”
“Her shadow. You’ve got to see it. You’ll probably like her. I do.”
“Why does she melt snails?”
“Not on purpose!” said Lenna indignantly. “Well, usually. It’s her shadow.”
“Who’s Wicklow?”
Lenna inhaled. “Binnan Darnan Binnan Darnan. You mustn’t be mad at me or Talvi or anyone but we left the empress in Höfn! I told them you wouldn’t want us to, only--”
Binnan Darnan crossed her arms. “Lenna. You should answer the question that you’re asked and not make up new questions for yourself.”
“Who is telling who what to do?” Lenna set her fists on her hips. “Are you?”
“Just because you’re Miss Joukka Pelata’s daughter doesn’t mean you’re the boss of me.”
“Does so! I’m also taller.”
“Wouldja keep walking as ye argue?” Pol grumped. They hurried up.
“Lenna. I’m older. I know more things. You should listen to the things I say.”
Lenna burst into tears. “Binnan Darnan. I lied when I said that you always told the truth.”
Binnan Darnan looked down. She didn’t seem surprised at all. “I know. Lenna, I do make up stories. Lenna, you shouldn’t ever believe me. Lenna, do you hate me?”
Lenna stopped again, glared at Pol, then took her gloved hand. “Binnan Darnan. Have you met your parents?”
Black hair swung back and forth.
“You only made them up?”
Binnan Darnan nodded heartbreakingly.
“And the potatoes-on-a-stick?”
The girl’s mouth was shut with dimples of despair. She shook no. The silver light and plunky music meandered farther down the corridor.
“Binnan Darnan. Do you remember when I was an orphan?”
“Lenna, you’ve never been an orphan. You know your mother. You’ve always known her!”
“Do you remember the Change, when you lost your dragons?”
“Of course.”
“Binnan Darnan, before the Change I also didn’t know my parents.”
“You’re just making fun of me!” The little girl ran down the narrow cave, away from the light. Lenna ran after her into the darkness, caught up and grabbed her hair.
“You’re making things up,” Binnan Darnan said.
Lenna shook her head over and over and over.
“I don’t believe you!” shouted Binnan Darnan.
“It’s okay,” said Lenna. She took Binnan Darnan’s hand and everything was better and they walked on through the cave.
The little black-haired girl breathed heavily with anger and running. “Who’s Wicklow?” she asked finally.
“A magic mechanical horse.”
“Wow!”
“Binnan Darnan. You can’t ask what I saw in the Viking tombs.”
“Why not?”
“Because, because it’s too wonderful,” said Lenna.
“What if I say I’ll believe you?”
“Binnan Darnan. You shouldn’t ask.”
“Tell me.”
“Binnan Darnan, you mustn’t ask.”
“Tell me!”
“I shouldn’t tell.”
“Tell me, mistress.”
“Don’t call me this.”
“Tell me what you saw or I’ll call you this!”
“Hey! Who’s in charge?”
“Mistress! Mistress! Mistress!”
“Don’t call me this!”
“Then tell me.”
“Unicorns,” whispered Lenna.
“What? No!”
“Told you you shouldn’t ask about it.”
“I don’t believe you!”
“But you said!”
Ahead of them, people were waiting at the cave mouth.
“Oh no! Now we’ll have to climb those rotten rotten stairs again.”
“Parhaps ye won’t,” said Pol behind them.
“Huh?”
He shooed them forward with wobbling fingers.
“You fixed it!” said Lenna when she got outside. Instead of a narrow, perilous pile of carved-out wet blocks, the cliff face had been transformed, shifted and scooped out into a grand staircase wide enough for an emperor’s parade. The steps were marble with roughed-up strips to provide traction.
“Thought I’d tidy it up, since I’m here,” Pol said, rubbing his hands together. “Far the tourists.”