Happenstance Found (Books of Umber #1)

by Catanese, P. W

  Hap tried to keep his breath from heaving out of control. This can’t be…. Is that really what I am? A Meddler? But I don’t care about changing destiny. I don’t care about any of that!

  “And what about this WN, Smudge?” Umber asked. “Do you know of a Meddler that goes by those initials?”

  Smudge shook his shaggy head. “I don’t know any names. Brother Caspar might have.”

  “Brother Caspar,” Umber muttered. “I’ve got a name or two for him. Well, how about Occo, Smudge? Can you tell us anything about him?”

  “I know nothing of that creature.” Smudge averted his eyes. “But there is someone else who might know.”

  Umber’s face went pale, and he sighed heavily. “I hoped that could be avoided.”

  “Who does he mean, Lord Umber?” Hap asked.

  “The guest,” Umber said. Hap remembered the terrible sorceress who once ruled the Aerie.

  “If it concerns the wicked and murderous, she is the one to ask,” Smudge croaked.

  “If we must, we must,” Umber said. “In the meantime, Smudge, I want you to scour the archives for whatever you can find about the Meddlers and this nasty fellow who’s after Hap. Maybe there’s a scrap of information that your brother forgot to steal.”

  Smudge nodded. “I will begin at once.”

  “I appreciate that, but first things first,” Umber said. “Oates, see to Smudge’s bath. Smudge, you can have these books once you’re cleaned up.”

  Smudge squealed and ran for the maze of shelves. But Oates expected the attempt, and he seized Smudge by the arm. He lifted the thrashing archivist and tucked him sideways under his arm.

  “Wait!” howled Smudge, trying in vain to grab the books away from Umber. “At least show me the titles!”

  “Fair enough.” Umber held the books up, one by one. “This one’s about the Death Boars of Gomar. This one’s about Chas-tor; perhaps we’ll learn about the Dragon Lord from this. This one’s written in Dwergh, and I don’t know what it’s about.”

  Hap read the silver words embossed in the leather cover. “It says ‘A Chronicle of the Terrible Reign of Khorgon.’”

  Smudge’s struggles ceased at once, and Umber gawked at Hap. “You can read that?”

  Hap shrugged. “Well … yes.”

  Umber looked at Smudge, and back at Hap. He dropped the books on the nearby desk, raced to a shelf, and plucked out some volumes.

  “You put those back where they belong!” shouted Smudge, still sideways in Oates’s grasp. “I have a system!”

  Umber ignored Smudge. He opened a book and thrust it under Hap’s nose. “What does this say?” he asked, nearly shouting.

  The writing on those tan, wrinkled pages looked strange, and far different from the language that was commonly used, but Hap could still decipher it. “It’s about a queen who was turned into a fox by a witch, and the king didn’t know what happened to her, so he consoled himself by going on a hunting trip, and—”

  “Never mind!” Umber said, clapping that book shut. He shouted to Smudge, “The boy just read a language that’s been dead for three hundred years!” He opened another book and held it wide. “Now this! Read this!”

  Hap stared at the odd writing. The characters looked more like pictures than letters. But still, he understood the meaning. “There dwelled in these lands great birds of prey, so large that even a horse might be plucked off the ground …”

  The eerie silence that followed made Hap look up. Umber’s smile was as giddy as ever, and his eyes looked ready to spill tears.

  “You know the languages of this world, even the ancient ones,” Umber said. He hugged the book to his chest. “I don’t suppose … Hap, tell me what this means: Cogito ergo sum.”

  Hap had to wait for a heartbeat, but the answer came. “That means, ‘I think, therefore I am.’”

  Umber uttered another phrase in another strange tongue. “D’où êtes-vous?”

  Again, Hap put it into the common language. “‘Where are you from?’”

  “Chi trova un amico trava un tesoro.”

  “Um … ‘He who finds a friend finds a treasure.’”

  Umber smiled. “How very true.”

  “What kind of ridiculous languages are those?” cried Smudge, still horizontal. “You made those up!”

  “No, Smudge. Those are the tongues of a lost world. Lost to me, at any rate,” Umber said. He grinned again at Hap and tousled his hair. “My dear boy. You’re a polyglot!”

  “A baby frog, you mean?” Oates asked. Smudge guffawed and slapped his thigh.

  “A poly glot, Oates,” Umber said. “A speaker of many languages. Hap, will the wonders of you ever cease?”

  CHAPTER

  20

  As he followed Umber down another subterranean corridor, Hap had to ask. “Lord Umber … about your archivist. Why do you—”

  “Put up with someone so obnoxious, unkempt, and malodorous? Because he is also supremely talented in his own way,” Umber replied. “Of course, it was better when his brother was here to rein him in. Bloody Caspar! Here I am, trying to become the authority on everything magical and monstrous, and now I discover a cavernous hole in my knowledge, thanks to him.”

  Magical and monstrous, Hap thought. He knew Umber didn’t mean any harm with the words, but still they stung his heart. Am I one, or both of those?

  The passage was blocked by a wall with a locked iron door in the center. There was a wooden rack beside it, with pegs for five cloaks of heavy brown fur, lined with wool on the inside. Umber handed the smallest cloak to Hap. “Put this on. Please.”

  It was cool inside the caves, but the cloak seemed better suited for a frozen winter’s day. Hap was going to ask why he needed to wear it until he saw the look in Umber’s eye: grim, determined, and perhaps even frightened.

  “It won’t really be colder in there. But you’ll swear it was,” Umber said. He rubbed his hands across his face, mashing the flesh. “Hap, I’ll be honest: I’m not sure that bringing you here is the right move. Meeting a sorceress is not for the faint of heart. But Turiana’s knowledge is vast, and she may know something about Occo, or even about these Meddlers. If Caspar were here, this wouldn’t be necessary. I could wring his neck for that!

  “It’s likely that Turiana won’t respond to us at all, because lately she’s slipped into a deep slumber. But if she awakens and her mood is foul, it can get … intense. Also, she has a knack for picking thoughts out of one’s mind. She won’t know precisely what you’re thinking, but she may seize on a scrap of a notion that’s floating around in your head. That can be unsettling too.” Umber smiled weakly. “I think that covers it. Do you still want to go through that door?”

  Hap’s hands shook. He clasped them together. “Yes, I’m sure,” he said, wiggling his shoulders into the cloak. If there were answers inside, he wanted to hear them.

  Umber swallowed audibly. There was a chain on his neck that held a key. He slid it into the keyhole, turned it, and paused.

  “One more thing,” he said with his palm flat against the door. “I told you once that Turiana was beautiful. Remember?”

  Hap nodded.

  “That’s no longer the case,” Umber said. The door groaned as he pushed it open.

  An icy gust washed over Hap as they stepped inside an oval chamber. Halfway across the space, iron bars reached from floor to ceiling, making the far side a prison cell.

  The cell wasn’t cruel. Its furnishings would have comforted a king. Against the bars, close enough for a visitor to reach, was an oaken table with cheese, bread, a bowl of fruit, and a decanter of wine upon it. None of it had been gnawed or touched. There was a bed with silk sheets, a gold-embroidered rug, handsome tapestries on the walls, a bureau, a sofa, and finally a chair in the darkest corner, occupied by a ghastly form.

  Hap let out a croak of dismay. At first he thought a corpse had been left there to mummify. Then he remembered what Umber had said: that the sorceress had fallen into a deep slumber. />
  Umber put his fists around two of the bars and pressed his forehead between them. “Turiana,” he said quietly. And then, a little louder: “Turi.”

  Hap forced himself to look at the sorceress. It was hard to believe that life still coursed through those limbs. She looked as if she’d been frozen for a millennium. The sorceress was clad in a faded yellow-white gown that reached to her bare feet. The yellowed toenails had grown wild, curling like wood shavings. Her hands, with skin drawn tight over frail bones and dark veins, clutched the wooden arms of the chair. Her head was bowed, and her face was obscured by a gray veil. At least, Hap thought it was a veil at first. Then he noticed the tiny multilegged creatures crawling over it, and saw it for the sheet of cobwebs that it truly was.

  His teeth began to chatter. The cold is in your mind, he told himself.

  Umber cleared his throat and spoke louder. “Turi. It’s me. Umber.” Hap watched, but saw no reaction.

  “I brought someone with me,” Umber said. “A boy who has come into my keeping. We found him in Alzumar. He’s a remarkable young man with some peculiar abilities. And he has the most amazing, sparkling green eyes. It’s possible that he is something called a Meddler.”

  Hap folded his arms tight, trying not to shiver. The figure in the chair still didn’t move. “I don’t think she can hear you,” Hap whispered.

  “She hears everything,” Umber replied.

  Hap stared again at the still form of the sorceress and frowned. He dearly wanted to know more about his origins and the Creep who stalked him. A vivid memory of Occo sprang into his mind: the hissing voice and strangely jointed legs. And that was when he saw the cobwebs that covered her face gently flutter. A spider dropped on a thread and scrambled into a fold of the faded gown.

  It was hard to perceive at first, but the sorceress was in motion. Her head turned, as slowly as the moon, until it faced Umber and Hap. Hap’s kneecaps knocked against each other. He heard a papery crackle as her withered fingers uncurled from the arm of the chair and rose to her veiled face. One yellowed nail tore a peephole in the web. Hap saw a tiny glimmer where a dark eye peered out.

  The veil fluttered again when the sorceress spoke. Hap expected a brittle, ancient voice, and so the whispery beauty that he heard jarred his senses. “And there is something else you haven’t mentioned,” the sorceress cooed. “The thing that pursues you.”

  Hap’s mouth sagged. He stared at Umber, who mimed a plucking gesture at his temple. She took that thought out of my mind, Hap thought.

  “How nice to hear your voice again, Turi,” Umber said. Hap was struck by the name Umber used. Turi. It sounded affectionate.

  “Never mind your flattery,” she replied. “I won’t fall for that again.”

  “I meant what I said those many years ago,” Umber replied quietly. “I hardly expect you to want to help me now, but I need your wisdom, Turi. You know something about this boy and his pursuer—you wouldn’t have spoken otherwise.”

  She shifted her veiled head. Hap knew her eye was focused on him. He felt it. The sensation of cold stung his skin and iced his blood.

  “Truly, Umber,” she said. “Of all the things you’ve collected, this is the rarest and finest. And a child, no less. I did not know there were such things among his breed. If only I’d caught one. I never would have fallen. Never.”

  Umber pushed away from the bars and raised a hand, palm out. “Stop it, Turiana. Hap is not something I’ve collected or captured.”

  “Study him while you can, Umber. You won’t have this pet for long. He’ll fly away when he discovers what he is. If his stalker does not get him first.”

  Umber put a hand on Hap’s trembling shoulder. “That stalker tried once and was grievously wounded, Turi. If he even survived, I think he’s learned his lesson.”

  Turiana’s laugh was as cold as sleet. “If you did not kill him, he only waits and heals. He will return before long. He cannot resist. The boy has something he desires above all things.”

  “What do you mean? What does he want?” Umber said, his voice rising.

  The sorceress pressed her skeletal hands on the arms of the chair and stood, moving as if under water.

  “What do you know about this stalker, Turiana? His name is Occo. What is he?” Umber said, insisting.

  Turiana’s head turned. Her veil of spider-silk drifted sideways, and Hap saw the corner of a bony jaw and skin stretched tight over a sinewy neck. She took a smooth step forward, almost floating over the ground. “Set me free and I will tell you everything you wish to know, Umber.”

  Umber closed his eyes and shook his head. “You know I can’t.”

  “But I have learned my lesson,” she said, drifting closer. “After all these years in this dungeon, I have found my soul again. The wickedness is gone. Set me free and I will show you.”

  “The king wanted you put to death, Turi,” Umber said. “You live only because I promised to hold you here.”

  “Forget your fool of a king,” the sorceress said. “You could rule here, Umber. Isn’t that what you want? You talk of progress, and freedom and knowledge for the common folk. But the king and the princes will never let you have everything you wish for, and you know it. So you settle for tiny, meager steps. But all the obstacles would be swept away if you ruled.”

  “Turi, stop,” Umber said, turning his face away.

  “I could help you, Umber. I would serve you. And I could show you how to use this boy!” A long finger with bulging knuckles pointed at Hap, and his skin twitched from his face to his toes.

  “Enough, Turiana!” cried Umber. “After the evil you did, I could never set you free. You know this.”

  The ghastly figure crossed her arms. Hap could see every bone and tendon under the taut skin. “Then I will tell you nothing. Not even what Occo is. Or how to save yourselves from him.”

  Umber’s shoulders sagged, and he lowered his head. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Turiana. Come, Hap.” He turned to walk away.

  “Wait,” the sorceress said. Her veiled face came to bear on Hap. “There is one thing I will tell the boy. If he dares to hear it.”

  Umber narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, dares?”

  The veiled face floated toward the bars, nearly touching them. Hap stepped back. “But he may not like what he hears,” the sorceress said.

  “If you’re trying to frighten the boy, I don’t appreciate it,” Umber said. “Come, Hap.”

  “No—I want her to tell me,” Hap said. Umber looked at him, questioning. Hap bit his lip and stared back. He was tired of all the questions, and the secrets Umber was keeping. If the sorceress could solve any part of the mystery of whom or what he was, he needed to know. Still, his limbs shook, and not just from the cold.

  “Fine,” Umber said after a moment. “Say it, Turiana.”

  “Leave, Umber,” the sorceress said. She pointed toward the door. “I will tell the boy alone.”

  Umber leaned toward Hap and spoke quietly from the side of his mouth. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  Hap stared at the sorceress, who stroked the bars of the cell with her skeletal hands. He sensed a cruel grin behind the veil. “I’ll be all right, Lord Umber. Just don’t … go too far.”

  Umber gave a deep breath a slow escape. “I’ll be right outside. If anything seems amiss, get out. Or give a shout.” Hap nodded. Umber backed out of the room and swung the door closed. Hap imagined Umber on the other side with the knob in his hand, ready to spring back inside.

  He faced the sorceress, pulling the cloak tighter across his chest. His mouth felt like a desert. “What … what did you want to tell me?”

  The sorceress whispered, as if to be sure that Umber would not overhear. “First, I want your help.”

  Hap edged backward. “I don’t think I can do anything for you.”

  “It is the smallest of favors. Umber has things that belong to me. Rings and bracelets. Pendants and amulets. All my pretty things. Trinkets, really—of no v
alue, but I miss them so much. Umber keeps them among his other treasures. They would comfort me while I spend my lonely years behind these bars. You seem like a good boy. Would you find them and bring them to me?” Her ancient hand reached through the bars, beckoning. “Surely you wouldn’t deny a poor prisoner this tiny favor?”

  “I don’t think Lord Umber would—”

  She wagged a bony finger. “Umber would not have to know! This is our secret. And I do not ask without offering in return. I will give you the answers you seek.”

  “What … what answers? What do you know?”

  “What you are. The powers you might wield someday, if you learn to use them. But first you must escape this pursuer. He will surely come back for you, I promise you that! And if you knew what he will do when he catches you, you would scream until your throat caught fire. I will tell you how to save yourself, if you do as I’ve asked!”

  Hap clasped his hands over his mouth. He wanted those answers desperately, but he could sense how poisonous this sorceress was. She brushed her ragged nails across the bars of the prison, making hollow clacking sounds.

  “I can’t do that without asking Lord Umber,” Hap said. “It wouldn’t be right. I can’t.”

  Turiana bent her head forward at a predatory angle. “Of course you can. And aren’t you curious to see what happens if you do this for me? It’s in your nature.”

  “My nature? What do you mean?”

  “Fetch what I have asked for, and I will tell you.”

  “I won’t,” Hap said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Horrid child! Then you won’t hear what you need to know—only the words you’ll wish you never heard!” With one hand, she tore off the web that hid her face. Hap saw transparent skin threaded by dark veins, stretched drum-tight over a bony skull. Her eyes were shriveled like raisins in their deep sockets. Like a viper she spit out two terrible words: