by A W Hartoin
He pointed his calloused index finger at me and I almost fell off the spoon.
“I got it right here,” he said.
We all leaned forward, except Mom and Lucrece who were measuring the blood. Mom had gone pale and jumpy like she had the flea flu, but Lucrece was licking her lips. Her expression was enough to turn my stomach.
“I don’t see anything,” said Tess.
“Nice finger, Stanley,” said Judd. “I don’t think it’s all that useful, though.”
“Can’t you see it?” asked Earl. “He’s got it right there.”
Dad went over and peeled something off Stanley’s callous. “Another decree from the king. Good work, Stanley.”
“What does it say?” asked Mom before she put her hand over her mouth and her cheeks ballooned out.
“Anyone speaking or acting out against the king will be declared a traitor, receive summary judgement and be executed immediately.”
The Marfisis came out of the shadows. “Then they’re still alive,” said Mr. Marfisi.
“Strong words from a monarch on the run,” said Bentha, slashing his way over.
“Something must’ve happened,” said Mrs. Marifisi. “Or His Majesty wouldn’t have taken such a drastic step.”
“It’s the latest in a series of drastic steps,” I said. “The king needs to rethink his strategy.”
“We don’t question the king,” said Mr. Marfisi, puffing up a little.
“Someone should. He’s making it worse.”
Earl tied the bloody pork bag closed. “Yeah, he is. Those dang fairies are crazy. We seen so many heads on pikes, I lost count.”
“We only saw four,” said Stanley.
“Fourteen. I can count past four.”
“Oh, yeah? How many lungs you got?”
“One…two…three… Shut up, Stanley.” Earl swung the pork bag at Stanley, who ducked and danced around on his tiptoes, making faces.
The dogs got a whiff of the pork and started chasing the bag around as Earl took another swing at Stanley. They barked and nipped at the bag, running into walls and knocking over chairs. Rebecca opened the door and watched the chaos. Her hair was tied in a knot on top of her head and loose strands framed her face, accentuating the purple crescents under her eyes.
“Knock it off, you wrinkly weirdos!” she yelled.
The dogs ran to her, plopped down on their butts, and wagged furiously.
“Yes, yes. We love you.” She pointed out the door. “Go sniff a hole.”
Ellie and Nora ran out, sliding on the hard wood and running into a wall.
Rebecca rubbed her eyes. “Earl, what have you got?”
“Pork and blood,” said Earl, like it was an everyday thing.
“Why?”
Earl looked up at the ceiling and appeared to be counting the lightbulbs or maybe that’s what he looked like when thinking. Marie stifled a laugh. “I sent him out to buy it.”
“Whatever for?” asked Rebecca.
“I thought I’d make a salad with pork lardons tonight.”
“And the blood?”
“A bonus.”
Rebecca rubbed her eyes again. “I must be totally exhausted. That sort of makes sense, except for the fact that you have it in Tess’s bedroom.”
“We got lost,” said Stanley.
Rebecca had no trouble believing that. “That’s okay. Why don’t you take that to the kitchen and put it in the sink?”
Earl and Stanley ambled out and dogs scampered past the door in hot pursuit. Rebecca stayed, watching her kids who were sitting on the bed facing the sill and looking uncomfortable.
“What are you two doing?”
“Nothing,” said Judd.
Tess elbowed him. “Looking at the view. I love Paris.”
“The view is an apartment building and trees. What are you really up to?” asked Rebecca.
“I can see the Eiffel Tower, if I look this way.” Tess leaned and tilted her head.
Rebecca crossed her arms and waited.
Marie hooked her purse over her arm. “We may as well tell her. Rebecca, your children are planning a surprise for your anniversary.”
Rebecca hugged Tess and Judd. “You are so sweet.”
Judd wiped a kiss off his cheek and scowled at Marie. “Thanks a lot.”
“Had to be done. Come, Rebecca. I’ll teach you how to make lardon the French way.” Marie steered her out the door.
“What’s a lardon?” asked Rebecca as they went into the hall.
The answer was lost to me as soon as they turned the corner. I was kind of curious about lardons, but since it had to do with pork, I was probably better off not knowing.
“So what’s the surprise going to be?” asked Tess.
“That we’re not planning one,” said Judd.
“What’s next, Lucrece?” I asked.
Lucrece held up the bowl for me to see. The so-called potion looked like pink chunky bread dough. “It’s ready for kneading.”
“Are you sure I have to touch it? I mean, you are absolutely positive?”
Lucrece sniffed. “I know what I’m doing. Suck it up, buttercup.”
“Dad says that all the time,” said Judd.
“No, he doesn’t. Only when you’re complaining about chores, buttercup,” said Tess.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? Dad does.”
Mom flew in between them. “That’s enough, you two. We have work to do.”
She and Dad helped me off the spoon and dried my leg. Lucrece placed the bowl in my lap. The pink blob smelled like spicy blood and it jiggled when I shifted the bowl. So nasty.
“Go ahead, Matilda,” said Bentha. “No fear.”
How about no vomit? I’ll take that.
I poked the blob and it quivered.
“Get your hands in there and work it,” said Lucrece.
“That’s easy for you to say. Nothing’s gross to you,” I said.
“Untrue. You Whipplethorns disgust me all the time.”
“What?” asked Mom.
“You smell like flowers and happiness. Repulsive, but it doesn’t stop me,” said Lucrece.
“Flowers and happiness are repulsive?”
“Yes. You stink up my life on a daily basis.” Lucrece pointed at me. “If I can live with your smell, you can touch that bloody concoction.”
“Fine, but this is worse than our smell.” I stuck my hands in and a warm ooze enveloped my fingers. I kneaded, breathing through my mouth and trying not to think about that smell going in my mouth. “How will I know when it’s done?”
“If you’ve kneaded the right way, it should foam up, doubling in size,” said Lucrece.
“And if I don’t do it right?”
Lucrece and Horc looked at each other.
“There may be…just possibly be…a small explosion,” said Horc.
Mom grabbed Iris’s hand and ran to the other side of the sill. The Marfisis followed her. Dad just stood there with his mouth hanging open. Maybe he overloaded. Too many surprises in one day. I kept kneading. What else could I do? Lrag needed the disgusting stuff, that was now up to my forearms and getting warmer.
“How much longer? My arms are tired,” I said.
Lucrece leaned in, sniffing. “I should think—”
The blob puffed out of the bowl so fast I didn’t have a chance to pull back. It doubled. Tripled. Quadrupled.
Then everything went pink.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SOMEONE YANKED ME by the arm. I would’ve flailed about, but the foam was so heavy. Then my mouth opened and fingers cleared my throat. I sucked in a deep breath. I intended to scream, but couldn’t work up the energy.
I wiped my eyes and tried to sit. Instead I slipped around and fell on my face, giving my nose a good crack.
“Hold on,” said Judd.
I felt his warm finger at my side. I braced myself against it and flipped over. His brown eye was inches from me. “Are you okay?”
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br /> “I don’t know. What happened?”
“I think you overdid it. We’ve got enough pink stuff to treat half the fairies in Paris.”
Judd was right. A third of the sill was covered in pink foam inches thick.
“Where’s Lucrece? We must’ve done it wrong,” I said.
“Your dad’s got her.”
On the other side of the blob, Dad hauled a body out of the goo. He pried open the mouth, exposing jagged teeth, and scooped out a handful of foam. He whacked Lucrece on the back and she spewed.
“Where’s Horc?” I tried to crawl up Judd’s finger, but my legs went in every possible direction. I was going to be so sore.
“He’s fine,” said Judd. “Lucrece tossed him to your dad a second before the foam hit her. She’s pretty fast for an old spriggan.”
Judd’s eye became two and began wandering over his face. “Judd,” I said. “I’m feeling kind of funky.”
Mom ran up to the side of the blob. “Matilda, grab this. We’ll pull you out.” She threw a rope of knotted sheets over to me. I grabbed hold and Mom and the Marfisis pulled me out.
“Look at her eyes! This is not good,” said Mom. “Where’s the book?”
“Probably in the blob,” I said.
“Oh, no. What’ll we do?”
Mom started swimming around in my vision and I felt funky good, warm and floaty. “Ask Horc. He read something. I think something. Something is something.”
“Oh my god! Matilda’s talking nonsense. Where’s Horc?”
Mrs. Marfisi pointed. “There he is.”
I rolled over and saw Horc, actually three Horcs, sitting at the edge of the blob. He scooped up big handfuls of the foam and stuffed it in his mouth.
“Horc!” Mom screamed, running over and snatching him up. “I told you not to eat it.”
“Must eat. So good.”
“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” She attempted to clean out his mouth. “Ouch! No biting!”
“I must eat pink stuff.”
“If you don’t stop eating that, I won’t give you bacon for a month,” said Mom.
There’s no negotiating with a spriggan when it comes to meat or to pink meat foam apparently because Horc shouted, “I do not believe you!” and dove out of her arms into the foam, belly-flopping with a big splat.
Mom waded in after him and hauled him back out by a foot. “Listen, you little nut. Matilda needs you. How do we counteract this spell?”
Horc licked his hand clean and pondered the question as he turned back into one very fuzzy spriggan. “This reaction was not mentioned in the book, nor was the tastiness, I might add.”
“You have no idea what to do,” said Mom.
“You could wash it off, but don’t throw it away. I’ll eat it later.”
Mom shoved him into Mrs. Marfisi’s arms. “Don’t let him eat it. Tess, get some more caviar spoons and water.”
I think Tess replied, but it came through like “Blah blah blah.”
Dad picked me up. I was in warm water. Mom stood over me. Her long hair dropped into the water, dark curtains around my face. She pushed my shoulders. I went under. Mom’s face shimmered above me, then darkness.
I was so warm. At least the left side of me was warm, deliciously so. I cuddled closer to the heat and that’s when the smell came to me. The smell of all smells, a combo of blood, meat with a hint of dead amphibian and pepper. I groaned and struggled with a heavy blanket pulled up to my chin. Then another smell came, lovely roses, sunshine, goodness. The blanket was pulled down and my hand squeezed. I opened my eyes to see a rose-colored wall with a diamond pattern embossed in it. A hand touched my face and Mom was in my vision.
“Matilda, thank goodness,” she said, smiling with teary eyes.
“You do smell like happiness.”
She laughed and wiped a stray tear as she pulled Rufus off my chest. He was the pepper.
“But what’s that other smell? It’s disgusting.”
“The potion… and Lucrece.”
Lucrece slept on my right under another blanket with her mouth wide open. Her jagged teeth were pearly white without a scrap of meat. I gave Mom the stink eye.
“I couldn’t help it,” she said. “Her teeth were disgusting.”
“You brushed her teeth while she was sleeping?” I asked.
“She never even noticed.”
“She’ll notice when she wakes up.”
“I’ll deal with it then. Let’s just enjoy the improved view for now.”
“What did you do to me?”
“Nothing terrible, if that’s what you’re thinking. I brushed your hair and braided it.”
“Like when I was five,” I said with more stink eye.
“Yes, and it was wonderful. You didn’t complain once.”
I rolled my eyes. I was not a complainer. Seriously, I hardly ever complain, unless I have to. “So where’s the potion? We have to get it on Lrag.”
Mom helped me sit up and pointed to Lrag lying next to me. He had a thick pink paste smeared all over his chest and down his arms. His skin color had gone from pale pink to a dark rosy color that was quite close to his normal red.
“It worked,” I said.
“Of course, it did.”
I looked in her eyes to see what she really thought. She never seemed to like anything I did. “You’re not surprised?”
“Why would I be? You’re clearly gifted,” said Mom.
“Then why are you always mad about everything I do?”
“I’m not mad. I’m afraid.”
Why does afraid sound a lot like yelling?
Dad landed at my feet. “You’re awake. What a relief. How do you feel?”
I didn’t really know. There was no pain, not even in my leg. I looked down to make sure it was still there under the blanket. It was, but felt so normal, I wasn’t sure what to say. “Better than being covered in pink stuff. I don’t know what I did wrong.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. Marie finally heard back from Thaddeus. Lucien says the potion and spell were done correctly. He thinks the reaction has something to do with your fire.”
“The other spells didn’t go crazy,” I said.
“You didn’t touch the potion in those.”
“Does Lucien know what it does to fairies who aren’t sick?”
“Well, no one’s ever taken a bath in it before, so he’s not sure. We’re hoping it just increased your blood supply. At least you got a good rest finally. You needed it.”
I looked out the window. The sun blazed over the apartment building, but wasn’t high in the sky. “What time is it?”
“Nine o’clock,” said Mom.
“In the morning?”
Mom and Dad glanced at each other.
“I slept nineteen hours? That’s crazy,” I said.
“It would be,” said Dad. “But you slept forty-three.”
I threw the blanket off. “Oh, no! Miss Penrose. She can’t go that long without her meds.”
Mom stopped me from getting up, not that I was good at it. My legs were wobbly and I was still light-headed from the potion. “She’s fine. I did it. Horc helped me. He’s quite a store of knowledge.”
“Are you certain she’s okay?”
Mom raised an eyebrow. “Are you surprised?”
I put my nose in the air. “Not at all. Nothing you do surprises me.”
“I think that’s your mother’s old line. Not really applicable anymore,” said Dad.
I wiggled out of Mom’s grasp. “I can’t believe I wasted two days. I have to get to the catacombs now.”
Mom grabbed me so fast, she nearly knocked me over. “No!”
“I have to go,” I said. “Lucien said we only had a few extra days.”
“Absolutely not. I will not let you.”
“Let me?” I shoved her hands off. “What are you going to do? Physically hold on to me?”
“Matilda, please. You just woke up. We don’t know what the potion did.”
“I’m fine.”
“You are not going. I’ll do it. I’ll go.” Mom was terrified of going out there again. I could see it plainly on her face, but she was serious. She really would go to keep me at home.
“It has to be me.”
“Not this time.”
Dad got behind Mom and put his long arms around her heaving chest. “We can’t stop her, Adele. If there’s one thing I learned at the Louvre, it’s that.”
“That’s ridiculous. We’re her parents. She’s fourteen.”
Dad looked at me. His face seemed thinner. A network of lines were etched into the skin around his eyes. He took a breath and said, “She killed people, Adele. We can’t stop her. We haven’t the power. She always knew that. We just didn’t.”
“What are you talking about? Killed people? She’s practically a child.”
“You know Matilda’s a lot more than that. It’s why you’re so afraid.”
“It’s impossible,” Mom said, avoiding my eyes.
“She’s been in battles. We knew that. I wanted to ask exactly what happened, but I was afraid to.”
Mom met my eyes. “Did you really kill someone?”
“They were going to kill Dad.” My voice shook. I didn’t realize until that moment how much I didn’t want her to know the truth about me. I was a born warrior. It was the last thing she wanted for me.
Mom put her hand on Dad’s cheek and pressed his face to hers. Cheek to cheek they looked at me. My parents, seeing me for the first time.
“Is that true, Ambrose?” Mom asked.
“It is. Matilda saved me and more than once.”
Mom let go of him and got slowly to her feet. “I have to think about this.”
That time I didn’t ask what was to think about. It was a lot to take in and for the first time I understood that.
“Adele,” said Dad. “Matilda did what she had to. Don’t forget that part of the equation.”
Mom flicked a glance at me. “I won’t.” She flew away out of Tess’s room to think me over.
“Don’t worry.” Dad hugged me. “She’ll get over it. I did.”
“Really?” I asked. “You’re good with it.”
“Okay. I’m working on it.” He smiled and flew up above me. “I’ll talk to her.”