Pearly green light bathed the bear. It began to change, fur shrinking away, flesh growing pink. Moments later, my enormous brother Titus stood among us. His brown hair was sweat-soaked and lank. His naked flesh was blood-splattered and rent by ugly claw marks. A bullet wound gaped in his left thigh.
“Titus,” I whispered, grief-stricken, recalling how the bear had tried to reach me on Logistilla’s beach. “I’m so sorry . . . I d-didn’t know.”
Despite his injuries, Titus stood tall and smiling. His gaze met mine; his deep brown eyes held no condemnation. I reached into the pocket of my coat for the tiny crystal vial containing the Water of Life and stepped toward him.
A brilliant flash of pure white light illuminated the center of the ballroom. The light curled about itself, forming bones, organs, skin, and garments, in that order. Then, the light was gone, and in the center of the floor stood an impeccably dressed young man in an exquisite dove-gray tuxedo, complete with spats. A matching dove-gray domino mask covered the upper portion of his face revealing only a pencil mustache and a narrow chin. In one hand, he held a richly carved mahogany staff topped with a gleaming star sapphire. Seeing the empty ballroom, the young man pulled a handsome silver pocket watch from his vest and examined the time.
“Where is everyone?” asked my brother Ulysses. “Have I missed the party?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ulysses
“On the contrary, the party is just beginning.” Erasmus smiled through his raven-dark hair as he grabbed Ulysses’s arm. “Unfortunately, it is beginning someplace else, and you have just been elected Chief of Travel Arrangements. Come, Brothers and Sisters. Everyone grab on!”
Erasmus gave a few last-minute instructions to his men, while the rest of us crowded together, holding hands. Mab and Mephisto’s Bully Boy crowded in with us. The Bully Boy, whom Mephisto called Calvin, demonstrated he was made of something other than just brawn when he had the perspicacity to put down Theo’s trunk long enough to take the great coat from Mephisto’s shoulders and drape it over the shivering, bloodied, and naked Titus. Meanwhile, Mephisto retrieved his hat.
“Where do you want to go?” asked Ulysses, clearly puzzled by the absence of partygoers and the bizarre behavior of his siblings. He glanced around, his gaze falling on Titus. “Titus, old chap, that’s a new look for black tie.”
“Quite true,” Titus replied wryly in his Scottish burr. His voice was gruff from disuse, and his speech sounded more like a bear’s growl than his normal baritone.
“Uh . . . I hate to interrupt this touching reunion,” grunted Mab, “but, in case the rest of you did not notice, we’ve just been attacked by denizens of Hell. Maybe we should take this opportunity to leave the premises . . . just in case they happen to come back with reinforcements.”
“Do you mean demons?” Ulysses glanced nervously about. “Which demons?”
“They’ve left for the moment.” Theo’s voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper. “As it will probably take them time to organize without Baelor, who is back in Hell, I reckon we have at least, oh, ten minutes before they return.” From his tone, I thought he might be exaggerating but it was best to err on the side of safety.
“You’ve been attacked by demons?” Ulysses asked, glancing about furtively. “Uh—look, I really don’t care to tangle with demons. Gives me the willies, if you must know the truth. Can’t you lot get a ride from someone else?”
“Certainly not.” Erasmus tightened his grip on Ulysses’s arm. “Now, where should we go? Preferably to some place that Miranda has not yet compromised.”
“Father’s mansion in Oregon?” suggested Theo.
“Too dangerous,” said Mab. “The demons have been there three times.”
“Oh, good going, Miranda!” Erasmus quipped, continuing before I could defend myself. “How about Logistilla’s place in the Okeefenokee?”
“Absolutely not!” replied Logistilla. “The children are there.”
An argument started as Erasmus, Cornelius, and Logistilla hotly argued about where to go, while Mab and Theo contributed dire warnings about the dangers of not leaving immediately. Mephisto joined in by shouting out places he would like to visit, such as the Eiffel Tower and the South Pole. Meanwhile, Ulysses was growing more and more apprehensive, and Titus was beginning to sway on his feet.
Disgusted, I reached through the crowd, touched the cool wood of Ulysses’s staff, and commanded, “Home.”
Ulysses’s face went chalk white. He tried to voice an objection, but the Staff of Transportation, which had been Father’s for so long, knew my voice and touch. The ballroom dissolved into light and silence.
Moments later, color and noise rushed back into our environment. We stood on a slate veranda breathing warm and salty air, perfumed with the scent of exotic flowers. Above, a seabird was silhouetted against the faint glow of the predawn sky, its cry piercing the night. Closer at hand, lush tropical foliage completely surrounded the veranda. Orchids flowered everywhere: red sophronitieses, yellow dendrobiums, orange featherlike cattleyeas, purple and white phalaenopses grew among the rocks or hung from the tree trunks, so that we seemed to be entirely surrounded by brilliant blooms. In among them flickered tiny lights, dancing and darting like a thousand fireflies. They were not fireflies, but tiny feylings, distant cousins of my Aerie Ones.
“Happy New Year, everyone,” I smiled as I glanced toward where the pre-morning glow had dyed the eastern sky a peachy gold.
“No! Don’t go ther . . . huh?” sputtered Ulysses, his alarm fading as he beheld our lush twinkling surroundings. “W-where are we?”
My other siblings were equally puzzled, except for Mephisto who was tying his shoe. The voice that answered, though congenial, was not one I recognized.
“Of course! We’re on Prospero’s Island!”
I swung about to find Mephisto’s Bully Boy gazing with pleasant familiarity at the cypress trees and white star-shaped Aerancoids. He noticed my glance and nodded, his smile both pleased and abashed.
“Hello, Miss Miranda. It’s nice to see you again.” He thrust out his great hand toward me. I shook it, puzzled, trying to place where I might have met him before.
“Who on Earth is this big hulk of a fellow?” Logistilla exclaimed with interest, pushing forward so as to examine him better.
Illuminated by the faint early morning light and the green glow from the globe on the top of Logistilla’s staff, Calvin looked like a construction worker who had groomed himself for a New Year’s party, except that he was enormous, taller and broader even than Titus. He had thick black hair, large cheerful features, and a strong chin that reminded me vaguely of Gregor’s. His arms were unusually long, and thick black hair poked out from under his wrist cuffs.
“Oh, that’s just my Bully Boy. Miranda met him before, but it was a long time ago, so she probably doesn’t remember. His name is Calvin. You can call him Calvin Klein if you like. That’s not his name, but he does wear jeans, so I’m sure he won’t mind,” Mephisto said hurriedly. Taking my arm, he announced, “So, this is Daddy’s place! Come on, Miranda, give us the grand tour.”
Behind us rose a wall of flowering vines. Walking over to it, I pushed aside the greenery to reveal a thick oak door set into a stone wall. At my touch, the door swung open. Beyond, a staircase led upward into darkness. As I stepped forward, a sudden breeze rushed down the staircase and circled me, tugging at my hair and gown, causing my skirts to rise and billow.
“Mistress, you’ve come home,” soft feminine voices spoke out of the breeze. “The master departed and has not returned.”
“Hello, Pinbell and Apple Blossom and Columbine.” I delighted in the feathery touch of these old friends upon my face. Continuing up the stairs, I said, “I know, Father is missing. We are seeing to that. Please make ready the music room for my brothers and myself.”
“And where am I supposed to go?” snapped my sister. “Perhaps you’d prefer if I stood outside? Maybe you have some horses you’d lik
e held?”
“For my brothers and my sister,” I said, sighing.
Behind me, Erasmus said, “No horses here, Dear Sister. You’ll have to content yourself with holding the door for the rest of us.”
I did not catch Logistilla’s response, but moments later Erasmus’s mocking laughter echoed up through the stone walls of the stairway. Ahead of him and just behind me, I could hear Mab pestering Mephisto as the two of them mounted the now pitch dark staircase.
“Don’t give me any of your jaw! I saw you attack that demon,” Mab hissed. “Why are you still carrying that hat? Put it on your head!”
“Shhh,” Mephisto whispered back loudly. “No. And, you can’t make me! It’s an icky hat! It looks stupid.”
“Actually, it’s rather a sporting hat,” offered Ulysses, from behind them.
“You stay out of this!” Mephisto insisted.
“If you’re taking about that Cavalier’s chapeau you were wearing earlier this evening, it’s exactly the kind we used to wear,” said Theo, wheezing from the exertion of the climb. “Makes you look like your old self, Mephisto. You even acted like your old self when you took out Baelor.”
“That’s the problem,” Mephisto hissed under his breath.
“What’s that, Harebrain?” asked Mab.
“Harebrain?” Erasmus’s laugh was followed by a sudden, “Hold on. Who’s that speaking?”
“Beware!” cried Cornelius. “That last voice was not a human one!”
“Geesh! And what else is new?” Mab asked grumpily. “Or did you mean Mr. Erasmus? Technically, he talked last.”
I chuckled. “Fear not, Cornelius. It’s just one of your employees. Mab’s an Aerie One.”
Cornelius replied, “I beg to differ, Sister, but I distinctly hear the wet breath of flesh when he speaks.”
“He’s an Aerie One in a body,” snapped Logistilla. “I should know. I made the body myself.”
“An Aerie One in a body? So, it works! How extraordinary!” breathed Erasmus. “I’ve been hearing about this project for years, but somehow I’ve never gotten to actually see one with my own eyes.”
“I guess you sold your stock in the company too soon,” I replied briskly. “Otherwise, you would have seen many.”
“Perhaps I did,” Erasmus replied, speaking, for once, without rancor. “How extraordinary!”
It was difficult not to be amused at Mab’s expense. For all my dislike of Erasmus, his enthusiasm was refreshing. I would have expected his reaction to be more negative. On the other hand, Erasmus had always been ruled by insatiable curiosity. Sometimes, it served him well; it led him to become one of the first alchemists to abandon that art for scientific inquiry. Other times—well, he had more lives than a cat!
Upon reaching the top of the stairs, I emerged into a long stone hallway. The smell of dank mildew assailed me. I covered my nose with my hand. In my youth, this hall had been a cheerful, warm place lined with rich tapestries. The tapestries still hung here, but what was left of them was moldering and moth-eaten. Apparently, Father had not gotten around to renovating this hallway since his return to the island a few years back, when he retired from Prospero, Inc.—so as to be able to spend his full time pursuing the matter of how to save Gregor. I surveyed the dim corridor with a lump in my throat and hoped very much that we would find the rest of the house in better repair.
To my relief, the music room was in pristine condition. Many of the antiques were still as I remembered them: harps, flutes, lyres, and trumpets of gleaming brass hung against the basalt walls. Others had been replaced by shiny modern instruments, among the new pieces: a saxophone, a trombone, and a guitar. Of the larger instruments, the harpsichord stood just where it had in my youth, but a grand piano, a newer invention, now stood across the chamber from it, taking up much of the far corner.
The music room contained only two wooden armchairs and a Roman-styled couch. As we trooped in, the airy servants gathered chairs from other wings of the mansion. Overstuffed armchairs, stools, and recliners floated over our heads, zipping left and right in order not to collide with a family member or one another. Some of the chairs and stools were over five hundred years old. The armchairs and recliners had been added when Father returned here three years ago, of course. No such devices had existed in my youth!
The chamber opened, literally, onto a deep, forested ravine, visible only from the mansion or the heights of the island’s highest hill. No glass separated the chamber from the ravine beyond it, though a cushion of air pushed back anyone who approached the brink too closely. Beyond the barrier, a sheer wall of water fell from somewhere above, crashing over the rocks of the cliff toward the gorge, far below. The water flowed past the roof, which was made of quartz, smoky and clear in patches, causing dappled light to play across the chamber’s dark interior as the rays of the rising sun fell upon the water and the quartz. Along the outer wall, the passing breeze whistled across flutelike openings in the black basalt. The resulting music, much like the voices of a hundred oboes, clarinets, and flutes, varied with the velocity and direction of the wind.
Though the morning sun was rising, its rays had not yet fallen upon the depths of the gorge, so glints of feyling light still twinkled among the deep green of the foliage. Theo, Mephisto, and Calvin gazed admiringly at this vista, while Ulysses wandered about the music room examining the instruments and commenting, with much enthusiasm, upon how much they might be worth to a collector. Nobody, however, was as affected as Cornelius, who stood thunderstruck, his face contorted in mystified wonder, as he listened to the mingling sound of the roaring waterfall and the fluting of the walls.
“An Aerie One in a body,” repeated Erasmus, as we waited for the chairs to be arranged. “Let me see!” He took one look at Mab and burst out laughing. “He looks like Humphrey Bogart!”
“Not exactly like Bogart; I made a few changes,” objected a flustered Logistilla.
“Fleshly Aerie Ones,” Erasmus exclaimed again with evident delight. He circled around Mab, peering closely and poking here and there. “How utterly extraordinary! What a brilliant idea of Father’s!”
“Brilliant idea? This abomination?” Cornelius asked sharply without turning away from the wind flute and the falls. “Or have you forgotten that we seek to lessen the amount of magic befuddling Mankind?”
“Remember the great project,” Erasmus said softly, as if he hoped only Cornelius would hear.
“How could I forget . . .” Cornelius replied, frowning.
“How could you, of all people, not know about the fleshly Aerie Ones, Cornelius?” Logistilla asked. “Considering how you spend all your free time.”
“It is one thing to prepare for abominations, Sister, and another thing to meet one in the flesh,” Cornelius replied stiffly.
Addressing his attention to Mab again, Erasmus asked, “And you can live as a man and dress like one and everything?”
“Sure,” Mab growled, “just like anyone else. I eat, I drink, I drive, I vote . . .”
“You vote?” Theo asked surprised.
“Of course. I’m an American, aren’t I?”
“Quite astonishing,” Erasmus exclaimed with great delight.
“I’ve never quite adjusted to the custom of letting the proles vote,” Ulysses commented. “Bound to lead to bread and circuses, or some other sort of trouble.”
“ ‘Adjusted?’ ” I asked. “The rank and file in America were voting fifty years before you born.”
Ulysses shrugged. “Can I help that? Wish they’d kept their practices to themselves instead of importing them across the Great Puddle. The kingdom’s quite the worse for it, I dare say. All this socialistic claptrap.”
“But I thought you were a socialist,” said Erasmus.
“Saw the error of my ways,” Ulysses replied blithely. “If every man’s wealth is equal to his neighbors’, what is left worth stealing?”
Erasmus chuckled, and Cornelius murmured under his breath. “I thank God that Ulysses
finally came to his senses.”
I nodded in agreement, only belatedly realizing that my gesture was lost on my blind brother. It was nice to see Ulysses put some of his more outlandish beliefs behind him, but I was not certain I approved of the morality of his reasoning.
“I’m hungry!” Mephisto interrupted, waving with his hat. The feather brushed across Cornelius’s nose, causing him to sneeze. “Do we have to just stand around goggling at the bodyguard? Or can we get something to eat?”
“Miranda, you travel with a bodyguard?” Erasmus asked, looking even more amused. He poked Mab again.
Mab slapped his hand out of the way. “Despite what your cotton-headed brother says, I am not a bodyguard, Professor Prospero. I happen to be Prospero, Inc.’s foremost detective. At the moment, my tireless investigating has turned up some very pertinent information, the details of which, no doubt, will fascinate you all. So, if you people will stop poking at me as if I were some kind of blue-ribbon pig, we can get down to the real meat of the matter.”
There was something extraordinarily pleasant about listening to my brothers banter together, about having so many of us together in one room. It evoked a feeling of coming home, even more than these familiar old walls. Though it was strangely disorienting to recall that most of my family had never been here, having been born long after our return to Milan. Still, I liked seeing them here, as if we had all come back to where we were meant to be.
Finally, we were doing something all together again.
“My apologies,” Erasmus replied cheerfully, giving Mab’s shoulder one last poke. “I was overcome.”
“By what?” drawled Mab, rubbing his shoulder. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
“I’d like to sit down now,” Titus said, his voice sounding patient but strained. Then, his eyes rolled up in his head, and he fainted, his great bulk falling slowly toward the floor.
Father’s Aerie Ones caught Titus before he struck the flagstones. They floated him to the couch, where Erasmus and I tended to him. I placed a single pearly drop of the Water of Life on his tongue, then let Erasmus, who had studied medicine many times through the ages, remove the bullet and bind his wounds. The servants brought a robe of Father’s that barely fit over Titus’s great biceps. Logistilla hovered like a worried mother hen, clucking and cooing over Titus’s unconscious body. However, she made no effort to help.
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