A Monster's Paradise (Away From Whipplethorn Book Three)

by A W Hartoin

  “Matilda Grace Whipplethorn! What do you think you’re doing?” he thundered.

  I threw back my shoulders. “I was catching Horc. Now I’m saving Miss Penrose.”

  Mom flew up and hovered next to Dad. Her cheeks were hot pink and she was wearing a dress she never wore out in public. I expected her to start screaming, but she didn’t. I can only assume she was mute with rage.

  “How is running away going to help Penrose?” asked Dad.

  I fluttered in close. “Lower your voice. Anyone could hear you.”

  Dad blinked in surprise and started looking around. He seemed surprised to find himself in the wide open. Mom still didn’t say anything and it was freaking me out. Maybe I’d finally pushed it too far and she’d cracked.

  “By the way, I wasn’t running away,” I said. “You know what I’m doing here.”

  “Why did you involve Horc in this insanity?” asked Dad.

  “He made me,” I said. “Tell them, Horc.”

  Horc was fishing around in one of his pockets and finally came up with a piece of raw bacon, covered with lint, and carefully wrapped it around a biting stick, while licking his chops.

  “Horc!” I said.

  He patted Dad’s arm. “I made her. She is rather susceptible to blackmail.”

  “Blackmail?” Mom finally spoke. What a relief.

  “I had to do what I had to do.”

  “You didn’t have to do anything,” said Dad, still looking around warily.

  “I did not want my sister wandering around the Louvre without any ears. She would not take me any other way, so I blackmailed her,” said Horc.

  “Neither of you should be here,” said Mom.

  “Tell her, Matilda.” Horc chomped on his greasy bacon stick and got the glazed look.

  Mom and Dad waited and, for a reckless moment, I wanted to fly off and leave them wondering. They’d never catch me as long as I wasn’t carrying the living bowling ball named Horc. But I didn’t. Horc was right. I needed ears and there were three perfectly good sets right in front of me.

  “She’s dying,” I said.

  “We know that,” said Mom with a glare.

  “I give her three days, maybe four.”

  Mom gasped. Dad held Horc tighter and the little spriggan let out a smelly burp.

  “Are you sure?” asked Mom.

  “Positive. We have to find the vermillion now. Let’s go in and start looking.”

  “I don’t know,” said Mom. “We have Horc.”

  I waved my hand at the crowd. “We’re a family on vacation, seeing the Louvre. It’s a great cover.”

  Mom shook her head. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Practically everything I do is too dangerous. I’ll get us out alive.”

  Dad smiled. “You’ll get us out alive.”

  I wanted to scream, but I bit my tongue. “Yes, me. I’m the one and I’m going.”

  Dad took Mom’s hand. “We’re on vacation. Be happy.”

  Mom shook her shoulders and put on a smile. She turned and started flying toward the entrance in the big glass pyramid. Then she jolted to a halt and Dad ran into her feet. She turned, pale with enormous eyes. “What are those?”

  She indicated the pyramid, but it took me a second to see what she was talking about. The thing was crawling with sea serpents. There had to be at least a hundred slithering over the shiny glass surface.

  “Sea serpents,” I said. “They’re harmless, if you keep your distance.”

  “Great,” said Dad. “We will definitely keep our distance.”

  “Sea serpents can fly?” asked Mom, pointing at a dragon cruising above the crowd, probably looking for an ice cream cone to poop on.

  “That’s a dragon. They’re disgusting, but they don’t do much.”

  “Why are they disgusting?” asked Dad.

  The dragon dropped down lower and released a stream of pee on the head and shoulders of a tourist and soared away cackling.

  The tourist looked up at the sky and said, “Is it raining?”

  Mom slapped a hand over one eye. “That is the most disgusting thing I have ever witnessed.”

  “Stick around. There’s more where that came from,” I said.

  “Matilda!”

  “Mom!”

  Then she smiled. She actually smiled. Thank goodness. We could do this thing. Get in. Get out.

  Mom sailed away to the large bank of glass doors, but they were recessed in the pyramid. Above them was a long metal beam and sitting on it were six Icelandic flutterflanges. They spotted Mom instantly and began doing the same little dance the one I’d seen on the fountain do. They snaked back and forth with their frilly fringes popping out and back around their heads.

  “Ooh, wood fairies,” said the middle serpent. “My favorite.”

  Mom fluttered backwards with her hands on her chest.

  “Come closer. I love your wings. I do believe they’re luminescent.”

  “And crunchy,” said another with a long flick of his black tongue.

  “Crunchy?” Mom looked at me.

  “Ignore them.”

  “We will not be ignored. Our time is coming,” said the middle one.

  “Yeah. Yeah,” I said. “So I’ve heard. We’re just here to see the art. Go pee on a tourist.”

  It hissed in disgust. “We’re not dragons.”

  “You’re pretty close,” I sneered.

  “You’ll pay for that. I won’t forget those wings.”

  I rolled my eyes. “And I won’t forget how easy it would be to snap your tail off.”

  That really got them going. They stood up on their hind legs, dancing back and forth. Their long tubular bodies snaking into S’s.

  “That is pretty scary. I’m totally terrified.”

  “Matilda!” said Dad when he flew up.

  “Mom, Dad, we’ll dip down behind these tourists to get in,” I said.

  “You have a spriggan!” screamed the middle serpent. They all jumped around, coiling their tails and snapping them at us.

  “What the heck?” said Dad.

  “Where are you taking it? Give it to us!”

  Mom grabbed Horc out of Dad’s arms. “I’ll kill you, if you touch him.”

  That was the first time I’d ever seen Mom look fierce. Dad’s mouth dropped open, so I guess it was a first for him, too.

  “Behind this tourist, Mom,” I said. “They can’t reach us.”

  We flew behind a rotund man and dropped to waist level. We stuck close as he passed under the metal bar and the serpent tails that slashed at his bald head. He went through the door and we slipped by him into the pyramid. We flew over the heads of the humans as they moved slowly down a spiral staircase to an open expanse gleaming with creamy tile and crowded with humans of every nationality. There were long queues on three sides for ticket booths and something called audio tours. We stopped in the center and hovered above a blond woman with huge hair that smelled like noxious chemicals.

  “Oh, great,” said Dad. “There are three entrances. Any ideas?

  The woman below us opened a big folding map. It showed four floors and three wings with dozens of headings like Netherlands 16th c. And Antique Iran. I didn’t see Napoleon anywhere.

  “Do you see it?” I asked Dad.

  “No. This place is so huge. How will we find it, if it’s not on the map?”

  “It has to be on here.” I darted down to have a closer look, but the woman flipped the map closed. I shot up and bounced off her well-powdered nose.

  “I say we hit the major sights and then branch out from there,” the woman said.

  “Mona Lisa,” said her companion, a man carrying enough electronic devices to set up his own business on the spot.

  “Eventually. I’d like to see the Sarcophagus of the Married Couple first.”

  “Works for me,” said the man. “Denon Wing it is.”

  I flew up to the parents. “We need to find another map.”

  “No, we do
n’t,” said Mom. “We’ll ask directions.”

  “We’re not asking directions,” said Dad.

  “Don’t start that again.”

  “We can figure it out and, besides, who would we ask?”

  “Them.” Mom pointed across the room to a group of winged fairies hovering beside the entrance to the Richelieu Wing.

  “Don’t!” I cried, but Mom was already heading for them, holding Horc with one arm and waving with the other.

  I zipped after her. Dad flew beside me, trying to get my attention. I didn’t have time for that. We didn’t know those fairies. They could be anyone.

  “Mom, wait!”

  But she didn’t wait. I don’t know if it was because it was me asking or if she was just crazy, but she went straight for them, probably smiling like a maniac. I caught up to her and just managed to grab her foot when she halted and I bumped into her back.

  “Matilda, you should be more careful,” she said.

  “Didn’t you hear me?” I asked.

  Mom sniffed. “I can ask directions on my own. Thank you very much.”

  “We can’t ask directions. We don’t know who they are. That’s a good way to get killed.”

  Mom drew back. “I didn’t think. We’re in a museum. Everyone’s a tourist.”

  “Not everyone,” said Dad. “I just saw some of those red caps Iris told us about.”

  “Did they see you?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so, but who knows really.”

  “Well, at least you didn’t talk to those fairies,” I said to Mom.

  “I couldn’t. They left.” Her forehead creased. “They saw me, pointed, and sped away at top speed into the Richelieu Wing.”

  “We’re definitely not going in there then. Let’s follow the blond and her husband. It’s as good a place to start as any.”

  “I agree. We should get out of the open. Those red caps were loitering, looking for something or someone,” said Dad.

  “There they are,” said Mom, pointing across the room to the Denon entrance. The blond and her husband were showing their tickets to a guard.

  I dropped low and led the way across the room, weaving around human legs, so we would be less visible. We caught up to the blond just as they were stepping on an escalator. We flew up the stairs and hovered under a glass sign that said Denon to wait for them. They got to the top and we found ourselves in the Pre-classical area. It had tons of statues, some of which were missing heads or arms. Kinda creepy in my opinion, but Mom loved it. She kept stopping to read the signs. I mean, seriously, you’ve seen one marble head you’ve seen them all.

  “Come on, Mom. They’re getting away,” I said.

  “We’ll catch up. Do you see this? Says here this lady was carved in the 7th century. Can you believe that?”

  “Fascinating.”

  “I like it,” said Horc.

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Her hair looks like sausages.” He licked his lips.

  “You are ridiculous.”

  “I am hungry. I need a snack.”

  Mom bit her lip. “I didn’t pack anything. What’ll we do? He’s a baby. He has to eat.”

  Dad laughed. “He’s fine. What’s it been, a whole hour since he last ate?”

  “An hour and a half,” said Horc. “I am devastatingly hungry.”

  I snorted and dug out a fruit leather I’d packed in my bag. “Here. Now quiet down, we’ve got to find that apartment and get out of here.”

  “We can at least enjoy the experience,” said Mom.

  “Enjoyment isn’t part of the mission,” I said.

  “Who are you?” asked Dad with a frown.

  “The same me I’ve always been.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  I shrugged. I really was the same me. It was just showing more.

  “Look at that.” Mom dashed away to yet another headless statue. This time of a man and he was naked. Dad kept looking at me. I don’t know what for.

  Yes, he’s naked, Dad. I can see the naked.

  Mom read the sign, while I panicked. The blond had left the gallery. We’d lose them and their map.

  “We have to go. Now. The humans are gone.”

  “Alright. Alright. Come on, Adele. The worrywort here says we have to go,” said Dad.

  Worrywart. He cannot be talking about me.

  Mom smiled and I groaned. I was not the worrywart in our family, not even close. I pivoted and sped out of the gallery and found the blond going up a set of stairs to the Etruscan gallery. Mom and Dad had a fit oohing over the pottery. I think they forgot why we were there. The blond and her husband hadn’t forgotten. They headed straight for a large display case with a red statue inside. I left Mom and Dad and followed them. I flew around the huge glass case, trying to figure out what exactly the statue was supposed to be. It certainly was an odd shape, a long rectangle with people on top. I turned the last corner to see the blond wiping her eyes.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she said.

  “It makes me sad,” said her husband.

  “No. It can’t. It’s about love being forever.”

  “They’re still dead.”

  I fluttered over to the description posted on the case. Oh. It was the Sarcophagus of a Married Couple. In short, a coffin. I flew back to hover over the woman’s shoulder to see what she saw and I got it. Love could last forever. Maybe those two were dead, but their love was still giving people joy. That was a kind of an afterlife, right?

  I swallowed down a hot lump in my throat. Those ancient faces drew me in, especially the man. He reminded me so much of Daiki with his slanted eyes and thick braids. The blond wiped her eyes again and kissed her husband. If Daiki had been there I would’ve kissed him, too. I would’ve kissed the heck out of him. He might be angry with me and never want to see me again, but that statue reminded me that some connections are special, even after they’ve been broken.

  “What’s up with you?” asked Dad as he flew in front of me and cut off my view.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  He turned around and scrutinized the sarcophagus while I blinked a lot.

  “So much for not enjoying the experience,” said Dad. “Don’t look now, but there are a bunch of fairies coming this way.”

  I spun around, but I didn’t see any fliers. “Where? Are they winged?”

  “Yes, but I don’t think we should worry.”

  “We should hide. Where’s Mom and Horc?”

  “They’re looking at some cup with a donkey head.” He tilted his head to the side. “It’s a tour group, I think. They’ve just seen Winged Victory, whatever that is.”

  The group flew in from our left past the blond and her husband as they were walking away. It was too late. We had to stand our ground and hope the cover worked. There were at least thirty fairies with no red caps or golden feathers among them. I didn’t recognize all the species. There were wood fairies, but none of them had luminescent wings. Some of them had tiny clear wings like dragonflies. The leader was one of those, except he wasn’t dressed like anyone I’d ever seen. He had short dark hair and wore a heavy red poncho-like cape with ornate embroidery. The front hit at his hips, but the back extended to his feet. Underneath the cape, he wore a long skirt that touched the tops of his shiny black shoes.

  “And now I bring you to the jewel of the Etruscan collection, the Sarcophagus of a Married Couple. It was discovered in 1845 by the Marquis Campana, a human. Note the sumptuous dress marking the subjects are members of the elite.”

  The group came up beside us and hovered en masse. The leader, whose dress was even more fabulous close up, smiled and touched his forehead to us. “Please join us in our tour.”

  “Thank you,” said Dad. “We’ve seen such beautiful pieces.”

  “God smiles upon those who appreciate the arts. Let me continue. The couple is dressed for a banquet. In Etruscan society women were allowed to participate in banquets with men, which was unusual for the ancient world.�
�

  Mom flew around the glass case, wearing a smile so big it looked like it hurt. “I love this place. I could stay here forever.”

  The tour group flew backward together, as if they were blown by a stiff wind. They all whispered to each other behind their hands. The leader wrung his hands and said, “We must be moving on.”

  “You don’t have to leave,” said Mom.

  “I fear we must,” said the leader and the entire group darted away through the exhibit, not pausing to see a single other artifact. I thought all the pots were boring, but still.

  “Was it me?” asked Mom. “What did I do?”

  Horc pulled a slimy biting stick out of his mouth. “It was me. Clearly they have never seen such a magnificent spriggan before.”

  “I don’t think that’s it,” I said.

  “Are you saying I’m not magnificent?”

  I smiled and took him from Mom’s arms. “You are magnificent, but you definitely scared them.”

  “He’s just a baby,” said Mom.

  “A baby spriggan. Maybe spriggans have a certain reputation in France.”

  “I am going to have a reputation for biting, if they keep looking at me that way,” said Horc with a snarl.

  “Let’s move on,” said Dad. “This is just plain weird.”

  “Just a second. This statue is unbelievable. Look at her little boots with the curled toes,” said Mom.

  “It would bring a pretty price on the open market,” said Horc.

  Mom laughed. “It’s a museum piece.”

  “That could change. It would not be the first time.”

  “How would you know?” I asked.

  “Spriggans are the greatest thieves in the world. You think they do not steal from museums?”

  I gave him a doubtful look.

  “Lucrece told me,” he said and eyed his stick before snapping off the end and spraying the glass case with splinters.

  “We’ve got to go,” I said. “Mom, you could stay here for a while, if you want. No one’s scared of you.”