Beast & Crown

by Joel Ross

  When Proctor voice sounded from inside the window, Ji started crawling away, tugging at the burro’s lead. Gongong actually followed that time. Probably because there weren’t any more daisies to eat.

  “. . . happy news,” Proctor was saying. “The queen herself feels Brace’s potential.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Mr. Ioso said.

  “We’ll beat him into shape like a blacksmith beats a blade. We’ll forge him into a prince—and then a king.”

  “And the others?”

  “What of them?” Proctor said. “One cannot attain power without paying the price.”

  16

  WHEN THEY LEFT the village, Ji told Roz and Sally what he’d seen—four times. Then he told them twice more that night. The next morning, he added some details to improve the story. Like that Gongong had gobbled the cornstalk and Proctor turned into a frog-man and snapped at blue-bats with his tongue.

  He didn’t make up any lies about the queen, though. She was too majestic.

  By lunchtime, he’d stopped making up lies about anyone. He just trudged beside the burro, past fields and haciendas and villages.

  “All these manors,” he finally said. “One after another. It’s weird.”

  “What is?” Sally asked.

  “They’re all exactly like Primstone, but totally different. Like there’s a boot boy in each one, another version of me, and grooms just like you.”

  “Well,” Sally said. “Not just like me.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “But a hundred versions of us and the twins, and the Folly, and the bone crypts, and . . . I don’t know.”

  “The butlers?” Roz asked.

  “Yeah.” Ji rubbed his aching arm. “The butlers.”

  Nobody spoke for a moment. Then Sally said, “It’s like a molehill.”

  “What is?” Ji asked.

  “The goblin tunnels. I wonder if they ever dig into each other by accident.” She patted Gongong. “I’d bet they’d freak out. I bet even goblins are scared of goblins.”

  “The haciendas are too far apart for the tunnels to meet,” Roz said. “At least, with only a few goblins at each one.”

  “What if there are extra goblins, like I saw at Primstone?” Ji asked.

  “I’ve no idea.” Roz fiddled with her handbag strap. “Though it’s true that goblins are rather larger than moles.”

  “And rather freakier,” Sally said, then tugged the burro out of the way as a grain cart jostled past them.

  The villages grew larger as they neared the city, and the fields shrank. Soldiers marched and vendors called and nobles cantered on fancy horses.

  Ji ducked his head when nobles passed, and wanted to steal their boot baubles. Because how else could he save Chibo? There was only one way. If he didn’t succeed as a thief, he’d have to try more serious crimes. Like sneaking into the tapestry factory and kidnapping Chibo.

  Ji spent another night sleeping beneath the coach and another morning trudging beside the burro. Roz and Sally switched places every hour or so, but after riding Gongong for twenty minutes, Ji decided to keep walking. Riding a burro felt like wearing cactus underpants.

  Finally, Roz said, “There, look.”

  When Ji raised his head, he caught sight of the city ahead.

  Summer City was built on a mountain that loomed above the coast, with the Forbidden Palace rising at the very top. Although it was called a palace, Roz said that it was actually dozens of buildings: pavilions, barracks, galleries, gardens, courtyards, temples, and halls. And of course the tower where the Summer Queen lived. Below the palace, fancy mansions and estates encircled the mountain. Then came normal neighborhoods, linked with stairs and ramps and zigzagging streets. Waterfalls and canals cascaded past houses and shops packed together around flights of stairs and precarious walkways.

  “Chibo’s in there somewhere,” Sally said. “Working his fingers bloody . . .”

  “Not for long,” Ji said.

  “We don’t even know where he is!”

  “We’ll find him,” Roz promised.

  Hours later, they entered the city proper. The cobbled streets overflowed with traffic and noise. The air smelled of cinnamon and roasting chicken, of pigsty and pastry shop. They followed the coach higher on the mountain until Brace leaned from a window and bought a bunch of lychee fruit from a vendor.

  When he noticed Ji, he gave a wave and said something to the coachman. A moment later, the coach stopped and he stepped onto the road.

  “Hey, Ji,” Brace called before nodding politely to Roz. “Miss Roz.” He didn’t seem to notice Sally.

  “Master Brace,” Ji said, bowing his head. “We’re finally here, huh? Bet you can’t wait till Proctor starts training you.”

  “He already started,” Brace said. “In the carriage.”

  “He’s giving you lessons?” Roz leaned forward on the burro. “About art? Politics? I’m terribly jealous, my lord. Are there textbooks?”

  “Just conversation so far. No art yet. But plenty of military history and strategy.”

  “Your favorite,” Ji said.

  “The only thing I’m good at.” Brace sidestepped a couple of pigs being herded across the road. “Uh, are you hungry?”

  Sally glared meaningfully at Ji, so he said, “Starving, m’lord.”

  “Here.” Brace gave him the lychee fruit, then gazed toward the top of the mountain. “Do you know why Her Majesty needs an heir?”

  “Because even queens get old?”

  Brace frowned. “Because the ogres and goblins can’t beat us while the crown is worn by the rightful monarch.” He pointed across the street, toward three statues of soldiers. “You see those?”

  Ji looked at the red-brown statues, with jaguar helmets and tomahawks. “Sure.”

  “They’re terra-cotta warriors. There are hundreds of them around the city. If we’re attacked by monsters, the queen will use her magic to ring the black-glazed bells that are hanging in towers around the city. The sound will wake the warriors, and they’ll fight for her.”

  Ji whistled. “No way!”

  “Yeah, like the nursery rhyme.”

  “What nursery rhyme?”

  “You know.” Brace thought for a second. “‘Bells ring once in the city of summer, to wake the soldiers from their slumber.’”

  Ji shook his head. “I’ve never heard it.”

  “Everyone knows that!”

  “Surely you’ve heard it, Ji,” Roz said. “‘Bells ring once in the city of summer, to wake the soldiers from their slumber. Ring the bells twice after blood’s been shed, and tuck them back in like a sleepyhead.’”

  “A sleepyhead?” Ji asked.

  “Well, it is a nursery rhyme, after all,” Roz told him.

  “I heard something close,” Sally said. “Um. ‘Ring the bells once to call the clay, ring them twice to send it away.’”

  “What if you ring them three times?” Ji asked.

  “In any case,” Brace said, “that’s just one power of the Summer Crown. Waking the terra-cotta warriors. Almost makes you wish we would be attacked.”

  “Totally,” Sally said.

  “Not me,” Ji said. “Though I heard the ogres are restless.”

  “The queen will protect us,” Brace said. “She’s the heart of the realm, Ji. I pray that she’ll rule forever.”

  “Me too! I totally pray for that! I—”

  Roz took a sharp breath. “My goodness!”

  A stone’s throw from them, six goblins shuffled across the road. Belly-arms folded, knees bending in three different directions, collars gleaming around scrawny necks. Two women in green hats strode beside them, ushering them toward a dark underpass.

  “There are gobs in the city?” Sally asked.

  “Of course,” Brace said. “They dig tunnels and repair canals.”

  “Weird to see them just . . . walking around.”

  “If you can call that walking,” Ji said.

  The goblins disappeared into the underpass, a
nd then Proctor called Brace into the carriage and Sally grabbed the lychee fruit from Ji’s hands.

  As the zigzagging road climbed higher on the mountain, the houses sprouted steeples and gardens, and tree-lined canals burbled beneath ivy-covered bridges. Then the coach rattled through a pretty square with a high white tower.

  Three soldiers lounged on the tower stairs, and conversation spilled from the open doors of a nearby tavern. A squad of terra-cotta warriors stood in a fountain, tomahawks raised. They looked fierce until a few pigeons landed on their jaguar helmets, squawking and strutting.

  Ji would’ve laughed, except he was afraid of making Gongong freak out. Instead, he nodded toward the tavern. “I bet they make lots of money.”

  “We’re not robbing a tavern!” Sally said.

  “Fine,” Ji said. “We’ll rob a jewelry store.”

  “That’s not what I meant!”

  “Stop teasing Sally,” Roz told Ji. “We’re not robbing anything.”

  “We might have to. If we—” Ji stopped, catching sight of a banner hanging from the white tower, which showed the Summer Queen standing over weird half-human beasts. “What’s that?”

  Roz shaded her eyes. “It’s a watchtower.”

  “Oh,” Ji said, and didn’t mention that he’d meant the banner.

  “There’s a black bell at the top,” Sally said.

  “Then I suppose it’s a bell tower,” Roz told her.

  “The bells are just for trolls and stuff, right?” Sally asked.

  “Yes, I believe they only sound if the city is attacked by nonhumans.”

  “What if they ring while we’re here? Do we get to fight?”

  “There’s no chance of that.” Roz swayed on the saddle. “The bells haven’t rung in centuries.”

  “There’s some chance,” Sally said. “The ogres are restless, after all.”

  Ji kicked a cobblestone. “I guess nobody rings a bell for kids dying in tapestry factories.”

  “No,” Roz said. “I suppose not.”

  “Stupid nursery rhymes.”

  A glum silence fell as they left the square behind. Then Sally asked Ji, “You really think we might have to rob something?”

  “One way or another,” Ji said, “I know we will.”

  “What does that mean?” Roz asked.

  “Either we steal stuff from houses,” he said, “or we steal Chibo from the weavers.”

  17

  TWO SERVANTS OPENED a gate on a pretty cobbled street and the coach rumbled through, disappearing behind high walls. Ji and the others followed, walking beside a canal that reflected the branches of cherry trees. Parrots chattered and swooped across blossom-strewn walkways.

  Inside the gate, Proctor’s elegant town house rose in front of them, with creamy stone walls and square windows. A low stable stood to the left, while the servants’ quarters sprawled beside the wall to the right.

  With a hearty cry of “Come, my noble children!” Proctor escorted Brace, Nosey, and Pickle up the front stairs. “This way—watch your step.” He paused at the door and looked over his shoulder. “We must find you a room inside the main house as well, Miss Roz.”

  She shot a quick, desperate look to Ji, but curtsied and said, “Yes, my lord.”

  After the door closed behind them, Mr. Ioso told Sally, “Settle the burro, then help the coachmen with the horses.”

  “Are there any warhorses?” she asked.

  “It’s a town house, not a barracks.”

  “Is it a town house with warhorses?” she asked hopefully.

  “Get moving!” Mr. Ioso barked, then turned to Ji. “Bring the luggage inside. The servants’ door is around the corner. You are to remove the travel-soiled clothing and help the laundress clean it.”

  So Ji spent the next five hours in the laundry hut. Apparently in the city, they did the nobles’ laundry every day, just in case the queen summoned them. By the time he finished, he stank of sweat. He slouched into the servants’ quarters, and the cook gave him a steamed bun. He shoved the whole thing into his mouth and was still chewing when Mr. Ioso ducked through the door.

  “This isn’t a vacation, boy,” Mr. Ioso said. “There are a dozen pairs of shoes that need fixing.”

  Ji swallowed the rest of the bun. “Yes, sir.”

  That night, he collapsed onto a pallet in a corner of the kitchen. He didn’t know where Sally and Roz were sleeping, and he was too tired to wonder.

  He didn’t get a break for three days. Not one free moment to search for Chibo.

  He cleaned walking boots, dancing boots, formal boots, and for the first time, court boots: fancy boots that were encrusted with jewels. Ji eyed the topaz and garnets greedily. He could sell them for enough to buy Chibo from the tapestry weavers . . . except if he stole anything that expensive, someone would notice.

  During the days, he sharpened knives and polished silver and scrubbed dishes. At night, he handled his boot boy duties. He heard that Brace and the twins visited the Forbidden Palace for an audience with the Summer Queen, but didn’t see them. He caught a few glimpses of Sally mucking out the stables, but didn’t even lay eyes on Roz until the fourth day.

  That was when he decided to demand Brace’s help. Brace wouldn’t even be in the city if not for Ji and Sally and Roz sneaking through the bone crypt. He’d still be at Primstone Manor, probably locked naked on the roof.

  So Ji crept to the second floor of the town house, slunk to Brace’s room, and knocked.

  No answer.

  Hm. If nobody was around, maybe he could snaffle a few little things. He didn’t really like the idea of stealing from Brace, though. So he took a breath and crept to Lady Posey’s room. He scratched softly, just in case. No answer. Good. Nosey probably had a chest full of coins and trinkets under her mattress.

  Except the door was locked.

  He was trying Lord Nichol’s door when a girl’s voice said, “Hey!”

  Ji’s heart burst out the top of his head, smashed through the roof, and shot into the sky. Then he realized that the girl wasn’t Nosey; it was Roz, carrying three books in her arms.

  “I’m so glad to see you!” she said. “What are you doing? Have you seen Sally? Have you seen the library?”

  After Ji’s heart fell from the sky, dropped through the hole in the ceiling, and lodged back in his chest, he said, “You almost killed me! I’m, uh, looking for Brace.”

  “Oh! He’s in the courtyard.”

  “What are you doing?”

  The light faded from Roz’s eyes and she said, “Nothing. Chibo is slaving away, Proctor is a murderer, and I’m . . . reading.” She showed him the books in her arms. “I’m bringing them to my room. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Are you shoveling facts and poems into your head?”

  She swallowed. “I—I suppose so.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “Because your job is being smart. Figuring out how to get Chibo is my job.”

  “Have you thought of anything?”

  “Only that we need Brace’s help.” He reached for the book on the top of the pile. “What are these?”

  “Don’t touch!” she said, stepping back. “Your hands are . . . bootish!”

  He looked at his callused, scraped, dye-stained hands. “Oh.”

  “These are rare.” She gingerly opened one. “And illustrated. Look.”

  She tilted the book toward him, and the page showed a horrible red mask with horns and tusks and yellow eyes. For an instant, a memory sparked in Ji’s mind, like he’d seen that picture before.

  “That’s an ogre?”

  “A young one,” Roz told him. “Just a cub.”

  “I’d hate to see him all grown up.”

  “It’s not a he, it’s an ogre child. They say ‘cub’ for the children instead of ‘he’ and ‘she’ and ‘him’ and ‘her.’”

  “What? No way.”

  She nodded. “They’re not male or female until they’re fully grown. For example, if yo
u were an ogre, Sally would say, ‘Did you see Ji in the hallway?’ Then I’d say, ‘Oh, yes, I saw cub talking with cub’s friend Roz and—’”

  “Wait a second.” Ji frowned at the book. “These are rare?”

  “Quite rare.”

  “So they’re valuable.”

  “I suppose they’re worth a fair amount, if you—” She stopped suddenly, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, no. Don’t you dare! Don’t you even think about it, Jiyong!”

  “What?” he asked, spreading his bootish hands innocently.

  “You’re not”—she lowered her voice—“stealing books!”

  “Why not? I bet we could sell each illustration separately.”

  Roz flushed in anger, and it looked like the only reason she wasn’t smashing Ji’s head in with the books was because she didn’t want him to bleed on the covers.

  “Fine,” he grumbled. “I won’t touch the stupid books. Where’s your room?”

  “In the attic. The old servants’ quarters.”

  A thought occurred to him. “Are you the only one there? Is there room for me and Sally? Because I can’t sneak out at night if I’m sleeping in the kitchen.”

  “There’s plenty of room,” she said. “I’ll show you.”

  Roz led him higher in the town house. On a wide landing, Ji paused at a window to gaze over the fence that surrounded the town house. He hadn’t seen the city since they’d arrived. He eyed the mansions lining the canal—then caught motion inside the gate and saw a frizzy head emerge from the stables.

  “Oh,” he said, tapping at the glass. “There’s Sally!”

  Roz unlatched the window. “Sally!” she called softly.

  Sally didn’t notice. She just dragged a bucket across the yard.

  When Ji tapped harder, Sally raised her head. She peered at the house, and Ji and Roz waved wildly until Sally saw the motion. She flashed a toothy smile and raised her bucket in greeting. Ji felt his own smile widen, and they just stood there for a bit, grinning like idiots.

  Then Sally stuck her tongue out and disappeared under the eaves, and Roz closed the window. She led Ji to a stairway so steep that it was almost more of a ladder than stairs.

  A wide attic squatted under the angled roof, with four doors in the walls. When Roz opened the nearest one, sunlight flooded into the central room. Ji blinked and followed her into a bedroom with a ceiling that slanted to the floor. A strip of window, not quite as high as his knees, ran the length of the wall.