Rebel Fires

by Tara Omar

  The fragments cut his hands as he dug through the broken glass, searching frantically for Natalie until he saw her several metres away, half-buried and unmoving. He scrambled toward her, finding a poisoned dagger buried deep in her chest.

  David screamed and jolted awake.

  It took David several minutes to realise he was sitting, unharmed, in the tent in Norbert’s safe. David looked around at the soft pillows and bunched-up blankets without really seeing them, focusing longer than necessary on Natalie’s backpack in the corner as he listened to the conversation outside.

  “What do you think of this one, Hongi? It has a nice scent to it, doesn’t?” asked Natalie.

  “Mhm eh-eh,” grumbled Hongi. “That stink has too much whale stomach. Indigestion not good for Gnat-lady.

  Natalie sighed. “I don’t know, Hongi. They’re all starting to smell the same now.”

  David staggered toward them, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Natalie spun a brightly-lit pyramid full of samples from Du Breez Perfumery, while Hongi picked another bottle.

  “What are you doing?” asked David.

  “I’m shopping for perfume,” said Natalie cheerfully. “One must always buy perfume while travelling. It’s like an unwritten rule.” She pulled a twisted bottle from the row and opened it. “Hmm…I think I’ve smelled this one several times. David, what do you think of—”

  “No!” coughed David before she could finish. “No violets. I don’t like violets.”

  “Okay,” said Natalie, putting it back. “Is something the matter? You look a bit flushed.”

  “I just had a nightmare, that’s all,” said David, taking a bottle from the pyramid. “I’m fine.”

  “Gnat-lady, what about this stink? This stink very nice,” said Hongi, holding out a bottle. Natalie gave it a tentative sniff.

  “You’re right. It is very nice,” said Natalie, putting some on her wrists. “Yes, I think it’s very nice. Lovely.”

  David put his nose to her wrist. “It’s nice, Nats. It suits you.”

  Natalie tapped the table. “Okay, we’ve found a winner. I shall take one bottle.”

  “Okay, Gnat-lady. Hongi shall order the stink now and collect it later. Gnat-lady shall have her stink before the sun sleeps.”

  “Excellent. Shall I pay now or later?” asked Natalie.

  Hongi stared at her, confused. “Pay? What is pay?”

  “You know…pay,” said Natalie. “I give you money in exchange for the perfume.”

  “But Hongi already said Hongi would bring it. Why would Gnat-lady give Hongi money?” asked the tikihune.

  “Don’t they ask you for money at the shop?” asked Natalie.

  Hongi laughed. “Oh no, Gill-mahn has magic card. Hongi show magic card at shop, and shopkeepers give things to Hongi for free. Hongi don’t need money.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Natalie.

  “Hongi sure. Don’t worry.” she said. The tikihune leaned closer and whispered. “Hongi put extra butter in Tatu’s nom-noms, so Tatu ready to hear news now. Be brave. Tatu ready.”

  She folded away the pyramid and hurried out of the safe, while two tikihune entered with heavy plates full of breakfast.

  “What was that about?” asked David. “Hongi was being very secretive.”

  “Oh, nothing of interest,” said Natalie. She twirled two bendy straws in her hands. One was bent into the shape of a banana; the other had a tiara shape. David eyed them curiously.

  “They’re from my dad,” said Natalie, handing him the banana-shaped, bendy straw. “He packed us some brownies and thought we could use some straws with the milk.”

  “Us?”

  “I told him you’re a merman,” said Natalie.

  “You did?” asked David, his cheeks growing hot. “Does he hate me now?”

  “Of course not,” said Natalie. “He might have some silly ideas at times, like thinking you’d prefer a banana-shaped bendy straw, for example, but he loves you.”

  “Well, if my choices are between a hot pink tiara and a jungle banana, I can’t say he’s far off,” said David.

  Natalie laughed. “Really? I thought you’d prefer the tiara.”

  “Knowing your father, I wouldn’t be surprised if the banana straw is for you. He knows how you adore primates so,” said David with a smirk. A tinge of sadness crept through his eyes. David sighed. “This is all well and good that your dad still likes me, Nats, but you know it’s not so simple. There’s no way I passed the background check King Uriel requested. I’ll have been found out as a merman by now. If I go back, I’ll be tried for treason, and your family will be at risk.”

  “Actually…” said Natalie. She handed him a folder. David opened it, finding inside a stack of legal papers. The top one looked like a property deed.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “It’s a deed of ownership registered to Claude and Bertha Michelson, well-known kelp farmers in Scuttlebrook.”

  “Do they really exist?” asked David.

  “They do now,” said Natalie with a grin. “Apparently they farmed the land for generations before an untimely accident sent their ward and sole heir to look for work at the Palace. Fortunately their ownership was confirmed before they died, thanks to a land reform act which provided them with official paperwork.”

  David shook his head, his face lined in disbelief. Natalie shifted the papers in his hands to a page of photos underneath.

  “Bertha Michelson originally comes from a village near the salt basins in Scuttlebrook. It’s an area particularly well known for its gypsum formations. Gypsum is used in agriculture and is commonly called desert rose, because the crystals form rose patterns just like the one on your neck.”

  “So no one will suspect I’m a merman?” asked David, touching the mark on his neck.

  “Not at all,” said Natalie. “For all practical purposes, that rose is a sign for gypsum on your neck.”

  David’s chest filled with a wave of emotions he couldn’t quite describe. He stared at the papers in front of him with a foggy, stunned expression, as though he believed himself to be dreaming. “How did you manage all this?” asked David.

  “Oh, you’d be surprised how much one can rewrite history with a bit of influence and resources,” said Natalie.

  “Does this mean I passed the background check?” asked David.

  “I’m still waiting for the official response, but there is no reason to believe you haven’t passed with flying colours,” said Natalie. “Sir Michelson, we await your return to Larimar.”

  David wiped a tear from his eye. He felt stronger, lighter, as though a heavy burden had just been lifted. He scanned the papers again.

  “I can’t believe you managed to do all this despite King Uriel,” said David.

  Natalie smiled.

  “Oh, and there is one other thing I have to mention,” mumbled Natalie, fiddling with something in her pocket. “It’s not super important…I mean it is rather important…but it’s not—”

  “No really, how did you manage, Natalie?” asked David, not hearing her. “Uriel was determined to arrest me.”

  “Uriel’s not in charge anymore,” said Natalie. “Princess Karina is, or Queen Karina, as she’s to become.”

  “I thought Kajal wasn’t of age yet,” said David.

  “She was close enough,” said Natalie.

  “What happened to Uriel?” asked David.

  Natalie took a brownie.

  “Natalie?” asked David. “What happened?”

  “Uriel died,” she said.

  “What?”

  “He was found in the throne room shortly after you left.”

  David sunk back in his chair. The heavy weight he had just lost came crashing back as deepening guilt. His face flushed.

  “Don’t go there, David,
” said Natalie, reading his eyes. “You only stole the shield and returned it to the humans, which likely prevented a major war and many more deaths. Uriel’s death had nothing to do with you.”

  “But Kajal… Hongi…”

  “David, Uriel’s death had nothing to do with you,” said Natalie.

  “But it does, Nats. You know it does. We knew someone was causing trouble in Larimar. We knew taking the shield would put Uriel at risk.”

  “No, we thought someone was causing trouble in Larimar,” said Natalie. “There’s no proof of it. In fact, your recent discovery concerning Mount Leah refutes most of our suspicions.”

  “What about the ballroom disaster that killed a mera?” asked David.

  “I assume it was a tremor caused by impending volcanic activity,” answered Natalie.

  “The CDS accident—”

  “Volcanic activity.”

  “The death of Petra’s husband—”

  “Mental problems brought on by the fear of impending doom due to volcanic activity,” said Natalie, “none of which have anything to do with you taking the shield.”

  “And what about Raphael and the Disappeared?” asked David. “What if this Rahul-Raphael guy really is causing trouble? Or maybe Gabe is, or someone else. Just because volcanic activity sounds logical, we don’t really have the proof it’s true. You’re not supposed to let bias affect your research, after all.”

  “You’re also not supposed to make random correlations of distinct events just to sound interesting,” said Natalie. “Despite your overly-cautious efforts to preserve Uriel’s life, the mer was bound to die. He was too uptight to begin with.”

  “Maybe,” said David, “though I still think something’s not right.”

  Natalie sighed. “Yes, well, there’s something else I’ve been trying to say—something important. Okay, maybe it’s not so important really; it’s perhaps more of a trifle—but a good trifle, like the kind you look forward to at holidays that makes you feel all lovely inside—although that’s probably a bad example because really it has nothing to do with sponge cake, though I guess it could, if I had—”

  “Wait,” whispered David, tensing.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Natalie.

  David listened.

  “Don’t you hear? Something’s happening upstairs.”

  David hurried from the safe toward the ladder under the trap door.

  Natalie sighed and pulled a man’s ring from her pocket. It was made of purple gold. Natalie shook her head.

  Not the right time, she thought. It just…wasn’t the right time. She stuffed it back into her pocket and followed David toward the ladder.

  Meanwhile, upstairs in the shack, Norbert leaned in front of a Venus flytrap, focusing on the plant’s toothy mouth with the utmost concentration. Roaring sounds of thunder and pouring rain clattered on the roof above, interspersed with the tinkle of water dripping into the pots and pans hanging from Norbert’s ceiling. Norbert held up his finger. “Okay, Lucy, draw,” said Norbert to the plant. As quick as a flash Norbert swiped his finger across the sticky inside of the Venus flytrap. Lucy’s mouth slammed shut, catching Norbert’s finger just as the shack pulsed with lightening. Norbert pulled back, shaking his hand.

  “Aw, you got me that time, Lu. How about two out of three?”

  Another clap of thunder rattled the shack. The door flung open, and a drenched figure stood in the entryway. She threw back her hood and looked straight to Norbert, desperation etched on her face.

  “You’ve got to help me,” said Catherine. “Bi y’avi, you must help!”

  C h a p t e r 5 4

  Norbert sprinted along the stormy beachfront to a pteroduck parked in the dock at King’s Beach, donning a pair of goggles and oven mitts as he ran. Catherine followed close behind with Norbert’s salad tongs; the angry winds whipped her sodden veil as she opened the hatch.

  “Bee avo, Katrina,” gasped Norbert.

  Liza lay on the floor in a ball, hugging her parakeet. She was ashen and cold; her bony legs were limp, and she was breathing rapid, shallow breaths interspersed with shivers that pulsed through her whole body. Catherine adjusted her blanket.

  “This looks like the work of poison, it does,” said Norbert, taking the salad tongs. “Do you have anything that might give us a clue as to what it might be?”

  “They used this to gag her mouth,” said Catherine, handing him a twisted, cotton rag.

  “Very good, Catty,” said Norbert, grabbing it with his tongs. “Bring her inside.”

  Catherine scooped Liza up and carried her to the sloping beach shack at the end of the row. Norbert was already at his computer with a cabbage by its keyboard. Its screen flickered and buzzed to life as he pressed the button on the side.

  “Okay, Purples, show me what sort of beau-nasties we’ve got here,” said Norbert.

  He dropped the gag into the hole at the centre of the cabbage head. The computer beeped wildly as the screen pulled up a scroll of text. Norbert frowned.

  “Just as I feared,” said Norbert. “The gag contains a dangerous concoction of various ill-wills, with the most prominent being a rather potent rodenticide.”

  “Rat poison?” asked Catherine. “Bi y’avi. Can you save her?”

  “I’ll try,” said Norbert. “She really should be in a hospital though. Aren’t there any doctors who can help?”

  “None I know of who would escape Dominic’s influence. You’re the best chance she has.”

  “Very well,” said Norbert. “Let’s take her downstairs. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “That’s very kind of you Mr Bransby. I know the Lady is very—Holy Mother of Mercy, what is David Michelson doing here?” asked Catherine. Norbert opened the trap door to find David and Natalie hanging on the ladder just below the opening, listening to the conversation. Norbert frowned.

  “Davey, don’t you know it’s impolite to eavesdrop? You should have made yourself known, you should. It’s bad manners.”

  “I’m not sure about this,” said Catherine.

  “It’s okay, Catty. Davey’s a fugitive just like the Lady. He is most welcome here,” said Norbert.

  But Catherine didn’t move. Norbert sighed.

  “Katrina, I am a senior-ranking fraternity member who pledged his life in service of the Lady,” snapped Norbert. “If I say it’s okay, it’s okay. Okay?”

  “Okay,” mumbled Catherine. She carried Liza down the ladder and set her on the waterbed next to the fireplace. David tucked a blanket around the shivering woman. Catherine glared at him.

  “Don’t worry. We mean no harm,” said David. “Lady Elizabeth was very kind to me. What happened?”

  “Dominic had her poisoned,” said Catherine.

  “Will she live?” asked David.

  “If Avinoam wills it,” said Catherine.

  Liza groaned. “There, there,” said Catherine, wiping Liza’s forehead. “Lady, don’t you worry. I’m here.” Crusty let out an irritated screech. Kiwi, who had been resting on the mantle, flew to the waterbed and curled up next to the bird.

  Norbert pulled David aside. “Catty is hoping I can heal her, but I’m afraid this is beyond my skill level, this is,” he whispered. “She’s going to need a miracle.”

  “Or an apothecary,” said David. “We must take her to Raphael.”

  “The mer in the forest?” asked Norbert.

  “Norbert!” called Catherine. Liza was shaking uncontrollably. Crusty screeched as the Queen squeezed her too tightly, her hands locked onto the tiny bird as she convulsed. Catherine pried the bird from her hands and held her down. Norbert rushed to her side.

  “There’s a bunch of bananas in a gym shoe upstairs. Bring them to me along with my blender, which is next to Purples. I’ll also need the brown jar on the shelf with the thyme hippo,” said Norbert to Catherin
e. “We’ll see if she’ll stabilise with some potassium and my general antidote.”

  David hurried to the tent in the safe where Natalie was already rolling up blankets and packing clothes into her backpack in preparation for the trip back to Larimar. He frowned.

  “Liza’s been poisoned. She’s very bad,” said David.

  “Shame. We should leave as soon as possible and be out of their way,” said Natalie.

  “I have to take her to Raphael,” said David.

  “What?”

  “He’s her only chance, Nats, and he healed me, so there’s that,” said David.

  “You can’t be serious,” said Natalie. “Raphael, the mer who tried to kill you…”

  “He’s okay. I can feel it,” said David.

  “You nearly got yourself killed over a grammatical error, and now you’re going to make potentially life-threatening decisions because you have a hunch he’s okay?” asked Natalie.

  “Lady Imaan said he was innocent.”

  “Oh, that makes me feel so much better.”

  “She’s going to die, Natalie. If King Dominic tried to kill her, there’s nowhere else we can take her but the eula grove. It’s a risk we’re going to have to take.”

  “No, it’s not,” said Natalie. “It’s sad, David, I know, but this is a human problem. You’re a mer now.”

  “I can’t let her die,” said David quietly, “not after what happened to Saladin.”

  “Endangering yourself for a human already gone won’t bring him back, David, and if she dies on the way, you’ll feel ten times worse. This expedition is not heroic action; it’s a sign you might need therapy.”

  “I know Raphael can heal her.”

  “Rahul-Raphael is not a healer, David. He is a mer who admitted in court to murder. Murder, and not just any murder; his actions nearly wiped out the entire human race. Not to mention he lied to you and tried to kill you. Those are facts. Whatever control Imaan had over him likely ended with her death.”

  David signed with his hands, Hang on, a few minutes ago, you didn’t seem to think he was that much of a threat these days either. Now you’re changing your tune. Why?

  He might not be an immediate threat, no, but I don’t think we should give him an opportunity to be one, signed Natalie.