Grizelda

by Margaret Taylor

  She was halfway through a star flower when she thought she heard a noise from the bottom of a pile of shelves. She stuffed the flower deep into her pocket, though it was trying desperately to twine around her arm, and shoved the papers under the mattress. At the base of the shelves, there was a flicker of movement.

  “Who’s there?”

  Tunya peeked out from around the corner. Grizelda hardly recognized her, so different was she from the smart, acid-tongued Tunya that she was used to. She looked red-eyed and rumpled.

  “What happened?” It was all she could think of to say. Only some sort of natural disaster could have done this to Tunya.

  “You’re the only person I know who isn’t a ratrider and will go and tell everybody. I know I look like a fool coming here, but…”

  “I don’t understand,” Grizelda said.

  “I’ve been trying for hours and it just won’t go!”

  Then Grizelda saw for the first time the tiny hairbrush clenched in her hand.

  “Your … hair?” she said, a little bewildered.

  “I don’t know who else to go to. Please.”

  Tunya looked up at her. It was so strange to see Tunya pleading that Grizelda didn’t know what to do.

  “I don’t really know anything about hair,” she said. She held up a handful of her own silver-gray curls. “I mean, if I did, I wouldn’t have left this the way it was.”

  “Well, in comparison to–” Tunya gestured at her own bushy mess. Grizelda had to admit she had a point.

  “Okay. Okay,” Grizelda said, trying to think. Her thoughts were still muddled, refusing to line up. “Hold on a second.”

  She ran down the hall to the washroom. The first thing she did there was take the flower out and tear it systematically into pieces. She wasn’t sure if they would run down the sink easily, so she put them back in her pocket for throwing away later. Then she ran water into her cupped hands and brought it back with her.

  “Maybe it’ll help if we get it wet.”

  Tunya was looking a little better when Grizelda got back. She was sitting slouched on the mattress, calm, but miserable.

  “I hate to have to ask, you know, you for a favor,” she said when Grizelda sat down behind her. She made a face like she’d eaten something not ripe yet.

  “Um … don’t worry about it. I think.”

  Grizelda dabbed water on the hair to weight it down. It was a horrible mess. It moved in response to her touch like something living, shrinking away from her. Was pixie hair always like this, or was it just Tunya? There was something she could do about it, of course. Magic. She considered the consequences. The Committees and the midnight police raids were far away now; they’d never see her. It probably wouldn’t hurt.

  She cracked her knuckles, then chewing her lip, reached out to touch the hair again. This time she commanded it. It still felt alive, but this time it bent to her will, more like a tame animal than a wild one. She forced it to go into a braid.

  It did get her to wondering. Why now? Why didn’t Tunya ever try to do anything about her hair before? Who did she have to impress at this pixie ring?

  While she worked, Tunya picked at the fabric of the sheet. “I haven’t been exactly … nice to you, I know. I just don’t like ogres very much. But you can’t be that bad, I mean…”

  Grizelda finished and let her go. She nudged her in the direction of the derelict standing mirror someone had dragged up here ages ago. Tunya was just tall enough to see over the lower edge. Instantly she turned back around, in shock.

  “I can’t pay you back for this!”

  “Did you see anything weird here?” Grizelda said.

  “Huh?”

  “Did you see anything weird going on, just before you got here?”

  “Um … no,” said Tunya.

  “Then that’s perfect. If you don’t tell anybody you saw anything weird, I’ll call us even.”

  Tunya looked at her, puzzled. Then she shrugged. “Okay. You have a deal.”

  “Are you sure this is the right place?” Toby said.

  Grizelda could understand his doubt. She’d taken him on a tortuous route through the underground of Lonnes, deeper than he had ever gone before. Abandoned goblin mines, fungus-crusted caverns only two people wide with rickety, sloping floors – she had to admit it didn’t look like they were going anywhere. She just nodded and encouraged him on. When he stumbled, she showed him the good footholds.

  When they got to the crevice that was the entrance to the ratriders’ lair, Toby looked highly doubtful.

  “You’re skinny, it’ll be fine,” she said. “Watch.”

  She pressed her back against the wall, slid herself sideways. After a squeeze, she was out in the grotto.

  She was greeted by a chorus of hallooes from every point in the cave. There were ratriders everywhere, more than she remembered the last time she came – swinging from the rope bridges and clinging to the cave rock like brightly colored bugs. There weren’t any real flowers out this time of the year, but the ratriders had done the next best thing by raiding a milliner’s shop: a riot of silk flowers exploded everywhere, crowding together on the ledges and fighting with the ratriders for space. All their green lights had been turned up to full blaze.

  Toby struggled in, bent double. As he rose, he stopped midway, awestruck.

  The ratriders started a new barrage of greetings in his honor.

  “It’s To-bee!”

  “Sewer girl’s friend!”

  “Do you sew, too?”

  As soon as Toby got over his surprise, he finished standing up. His head ran into some of the rope bridges overhead, and he ducked and batted them away with a strangled noise.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Grizelda said.

  “Well, yes, I…”

  “Hey, Griz, Toby! Come on, I’ll introduce you to everybody!”

  Geddy came running down the side of the cave, slipping and skidding every few steps on the rock that was made slick by river spray. He didn’t slow down until he got to the bottom. He motioned them eagerly to come into the middle of the cavern, so they followed him.

  Toby watched his feet nervously.

  “I’m afraid I’ll step on somebody,” he whispered to her.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “They’re very good at getting out of the way.”

  Geddy then did his best to introduce Toby to every single ratrider in the tribe. Toby responded with lots of nodding and strained smiles. He didn’t talk much, but it didn’t matter. Geddy did all the talking for him.

  “Don’t know where Tunya is,” said Geddy. “Maybe she’s not coming.”

  It was then that Grizelda spotted Laricia. She wasn’t precisely being social, but she wasn’t scowling off in a dank, dark corner, either. She was sitting on a rock ledge vaguely near some other ratriders, holding a cup. When Grizelda looked at her inquiringly, she only shrugged.

  “Anybody want to try ratrider cordial?” Geddy said before she could ask further. He dragged them off in another direction.

  The back of the cave was devoted to a table that would have been large for ratriders, covered with beanpod casks. Ratriders were cracking them open and serving syrupy, wine-colored stuff up in glasses. When they saw Toby and Grizelda coming, they ran to get containers that were more appropriate for the two of them. Kricker came bounding up to them while they waited.

  “Hiya, guys! Hey, has anyone seen Tunya?”

  “We were just wondering where she was,” said Geddy.

  Kricker shrugged and held a plate out to Toby and Grizelda. “Want some fried spider?”

  “No, thanks,” Grizelda said. Toby just shook his head.

  “Suit yourself.” He pulled off a leg and started crunching it happily.

  Then he choked.

  Tunya was striding into the ratriders’ grotto, making a dramatic entrance. As she was dazzlingly late, the other ratriders had no choice but to turn and stare at her as she came in. And what a sight she was. She always had
carried herself like a princess, but before, she’d been a barbarian princess. Now she looked real. With all that hair pulled away from her face, Grizelda realized for the first time that Tunya was not actually homely. There was still that awfully jutting jaw, but the eyes … they sparkled.

  “Well, I’ll be…” Geddy scratched his head. “Tunya brushed her hair.”

  With a mumbled excuse Kricker left them.

  “Why did she do it, do you suppose?” Geddy climbed up a rock to get a better vantage point.

  Grizelda wasn’t sure how much she was allowed to tell, but she was saved from that decision when Toby looked over at her.

  “Why is everybody so surprised that–”

  Geddy laughed, covering his mouth.

  “What?” said Toby.

  “Look!” Geddy pointed. Grizelda and Toby crowded in behind him and followed his line of sight down to the cave floor. Kricker had gone up to Tunya and was talking to her animatedly.

  “Kricker … and Tunya?” Grizelda looked over at Geddy. “Are you sure?”

  He was practically hopping with glee. “They’re just like Benedict and Beatrice!”

  “Will somebody please tell me what’s going on?” said Toby.

  “They’re in love!” said Geddy. “They keep fighting because they don’t want each other to know. This is brilliant!”

  “I’m not sure, Geddy.” Grizelda shook her head, but she was smiling.

  Then the cordial was ready. The ratriders had eventually settled on thimbles for the two of them, and these were carefully passed up to Grizelda, who gave one to Toby. They looked at each other, then downed their thimbles at the same time.

  At first it was sweet, but after a few seconds it burned the back of Grizelda’s throat. It got hotter and hotter. She coughed. By the look on Toby’s face, he was experiencing the same thing.

  “Um, thank you.” She gave the thimble back, eyes watering. “I think I’ve had enough.”

  Just then, a tiny trumpet sounded. The conversation stopped – then erupted again in excitement. Everything the ratriders had been doing they dropped as they rappelled down the cave walls, shimmied down ladders and ropes to get to the cave floor.

  “What’s going on?” she asked Geddy.

  Geddy was already halfway down the rock by this point, caught up with the rest of the crowd. He paused long enough to call over his shoulder.

  “The dance is about to start!”

  “There’s dancing?” Toby said, horrified.

  His feet had gone leaden, but she dragged him out onto the cave floor where the ratriders were forming into a big double ring. They linked hands, the ones in the inside ring facing outward and the ones in the outside facing inward. When Grizelda and Toby approached, they made spaces for them on either side of the outside ring.

  There was a band perched on a ledge near them, all their instruments made out of seashells except the fork guitar. They struck up a strange, fey tune that made Grizelda think of a beach at night in some distant country. The moon came out from behind a cloud and all at once the moonstones caught fire, each one collecting the silvery light in some hidden reservoir and sending it out again, a beam into the night sky.

  With a start she realized the dance had already started, and she was dancing along with it. She’d been seeing things. The ring was making a slow revolution counterclockwise, all the ratriders stepping rhythmically and holding hands. She checked her feet to make sure she was keeping pace with them. A quick glance across told her Toby was also concentrating fiercely. The ring stopped, then started revolving in the other direction.

  As the tempo sped up, she felt like she was getting the hang of it. It felt natural. She stopped looking at her feet. She looked across again and Toby had a goofy look on his face. She felt kind of goofy too, to tell the truth.

  “What do you think of magic now?” she called across to him, over the music.

  He thought about it for a minute.

  “Okay, you win!”

  The direction changed and they were whirled around the other way.

  “These ratrider people are okay. They’re not like sorcerers at all!”

  She frowned briefly. That wasn’t exactly the answer she had wanted. But then the ring changed direction again and she had to concentrate on the dance.

  Chapter 23

  Not that much happened the day before the breakout. Grizelda went to work as usual. Her hands were shaking as she threaded up a new spool on the sewing machine. The ratrider party had helped, but as soon as it was over it all came rushing back. Something bad was going to happen tonight. Something very bad.

  Tunya was in her home in the ratrider grotto, brushing out her hair in increasing bewilderment. It didn’t make sense. It would not get frizzy again. No matter what she did to her hair, it would not go back to the way it was. Then when it dawned on her what the girl must have done, she sat down slowly, a hand on her chest.

  Another thing happened that day: Kricker started vomiting around sundown. He took himself off to the furthest part of the sewers where nobody would find him and knelt over the edge of the bank. His dread just kept getting worse and worse as the time for the breakout drew nearer. All that swaying, all that space – all night. He couldn’t ever let anyone know he didn’t want to go. If he did, Tunya might find out.

  After a while, he didn’t have anything left to bring up. He got up shakily, wiped his mouth. It was time to go.

  A glare of gas lamps, swinging unevenly and lighting up random patches of cave wall and water, faces and hands. The Undergrounders huddled together, even though many of them had been in the goblin tunnels before during the rehearsals. It was the empty manufacturing floors they passed on either side, aching, abandoned; it was the way the carvings on the walls cast multi-pointed shadows from their lanterns and the lantern-sticks of Laricia’s batriders that flew alongside them. It was the mysterious sticky coating on the floor. When they spoke, they kept their voices low. Grizelda could see on their faces, when they were visible, that they were beginning to realize something she already knew: that the awe of the dark was immense, and they were nothing but frightened teenagers and a handful of pixies.

  So this was it, the big day. Strange, but it was oddly like stage fright the way she felt. The girls at Miss Hesslehamer’s shop had gotten together to put on a play once, for the Liberty District Revolution Day pageant. Somehow they’d made the mistake of casting Grizelda as the ice fairy. This was like that. She had the same sweaty palms, the butterflies. As soon as it was time for her to say her line that day long ago, she’d panicked, blanked out, and had to run off the stage in tears. Good omen, that. She wished she was one of the ones carrying a lantern now. It would give her something to grip.

  Soon it would be time for them to split up. It would be harder for the gendarmes to detect a smaller group, Jamin had decided, though there was not supposed to be anybody down here who would see them. Grizelda checked her headscarf. She’d put it on, just in case.

  She realized with a sudden panic that there was no way that they were going to be able to do this. They were just a bunch of street kids! What was she thinking? How had they managed to delude themselves these past two weeks? She should call it off right now, tell them all to get out of these tunnels, get to safety–

  There was a noise. Quickly, all the lanterns where shuttered, the lantern-sticks covered, and the Undergrounders listened, holding their breaths. The noise came again: the clack of a lone pair of footsteps. It was coming their way.

  Bodies scuffled invisibly, and by some unspoken consensus, they all moved off in the same direction. They moved by sound and touch, not by sight. Grizelda followed them, blind, not speaking. She felt bodies going past her in the opposite direction.

  “That way’s a dead end. Go the other way,” somebody whispered.

  She turned around and went the other way. No time to think, now, about the disaster that had come crashing down in answer to her foreboding. Just blind reaction. Her hand ran into someb
ody else’s.

  “Solander?”

  “Take my hand!” came Solander’s urgent voice.

  Grizelda gripped it tight. Together they waded forward in the dark. The footsteps were louder, closer. It sounded like the still-unseen person could burst in on them any moment.

  “Run!”

  Grizelda ran one way, but Solander tried to run the other. Before Grizelda could stop, Solander’s hand tore away from her. She stopped, groped around for it, but it was gone. The footsteps were almost on top of them, she was sure. Grizelda ran.

  Somebody snapped open a lantern. Jamin’s face appeared, fragmented by the shadows his own face cast on itself. A flicker of hand appeared as he lifted the lantern, used it to look around. What remained of the Lonnes Underground looked back at him, huddled together under a metal overhang. It looked like they were in the corner of one of the abandoned manufacturing floors.

  “Is everybody all right?” he asked.

  More lanterns opened, and the ratriders uncovered their lantern-sticks. Stevry was there. So were Katarin, Mitchell, and Tian… Laricia, perched on Mitchell’s shoulder, started counting her fliers.

  “Where’s Grizelda?” Geddy said.

  There was no sign of her. Toby and Solander were missing, too.

  Jamin hoisted the lantern and walked out into the empty manufacturing floor a few paces. He couldn’t tell how big it was; the two far walls and even the ceiling were beyond the reach of his light. There was nothing but a beach of tar-coated empty floor and bits of rubble and wrecked machines.

  “You can’t go out there!” said Katarin. “What about the thing we heard?”

  “I think it’s gone.”

  As if in response, at that moment they heard someone walking towards them. Jamin stumbled back to their hiding place and Katarin uttered a stifled scream.

  “No, it’s me!”