Flora's Fury: How a Girl of Spirit and a Red Dog Confound Their Friends, Astound Their Enemies, and Learn the Impo (8 page)

BOOK: Flora's Fury: How a Girl of Spirit and a Red Dog Confound Their Friends, Astound Their Enemies, and Learn the Impo
9.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

He said, “I like your outfit, Flora. You make a good Nini Mo.”

“Thank you.” I didn’t return the compliment because Udo didn’t look good; he looked like a fool. A bootlicking slavering toady of a fool.

Alas, no, he didn’t. Even made up like the corpse of an outlaw, Udo looked gorgeous. But I was never going to let him know I thought that. I said, “Who was that man, that Sieur Wraathmyr? I’ve never seen him around before.”

“Oh, just a traveling salesman. He works for Madama Twanky I think. He was at Saeta House, showing Zu some ribbands or something, and she invited him to the party He’s a bit common, don’t you think?”

“He acts like he’s Choronzon, King of All Creation,” I said savagely.

“You seemed to enjoy his kiss, though.” Udo sounded accusing.

“If I did, what’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me?” Udo asked incredulously. “How can you say that?”

“You’d better get back to the Zu-Zu. She’s going to miss you.”

Udo made no move to get back to the Zu-Zu. “You never answered my letter.”

“I didn’t?” I knew full well I had not. Every time I had sat down to try, I hadn’t known what to say. So, in the end, it was easiest to say nothing.

“You know you did not. Flora, can’t we—” He made a movement as though to touch me, but I flinched away.

“Excuse me, madama.” Sieur Wraathmyr had popped up from behind the punch bowl. He bowed stiffly at Udo, then said to me, “I believe this is yours.”

For one heart-leaping moment, I thought he was offering me my map. Then I realized he was holding out a wadded napkin. I took it from him, and with another stiff bow, he walked away Something moved inside the napkin and I almost dropped it.

“What is that?” Udo asked.

I peeked inside the napkin and saw a ladybug nestled in its folds. But it wasn’t a ladybug. It was my Gramatica Word, which I now embarrassingly recognized as the verb
ardor
.

I quickly closed my hand, crushing the Word in my fist.

“Nothing,” I said.

SEVEN
Orders. Bad News. Confession.

T
HE SINGING OF THE
Zu-Zu’s birthday hymn saved me from further conversation with Udo, but in the hoopla surrounding the cutting of the cake, Sieur Wraathmyr escaped me. I never did see him again at the party, but now that I knew my quarry’s name and profession, he would not be that hard to find. I went back to the UOQ filled with vigorous hope and, after a late-night snack of apple pie, slept like a dead alligator.

Among the many pieces of paper Buck’s office receives each day are copies of the manifests of all ships and coaches entering and exiting the City. The first thing I did when I got to the CGO the next morning was to pull these lists, and thus I discovered that Sieur Wraathmyr had arrived in the City the morning of Pirates’ Parade, on the steamer
Pantico
. His profession was listed as drummer, or traveling salesman, his point of origin Cuilihuacan, and his nationality Varanger, which explained the accent. The Varangers live in the far north, where the summer days are very long and the winter days are very short. Not much grows up there, so they are mostly traders and raiders and are notorious for being quarrelsome, arrogant, and vain. That explained everything else.

And in the day before’s
Alta Califa
, I found the following notice:
Newly arrived on the steamer
Pantico,
Sieur T. N. Wraathmyr, representative for Madama Twankys fine luxury goods. Sieur Wraathmyr carries with him a fine array of exquisite linens from Seneg; sweet perfumes from the Huitzil Empire; the choicest fruits from the Kulani Islands; beaver hats, both fancy and plain; lace goods of all persuasions; Bradstock bootees; linen brollies; ETC. He will be staying at the Palace Hotel, for those who wish to peruse his samples and place orders
.

Well, I did not wish to peruse Sieur Wraathmyr’s items or place an order, but he could bet his Bradstock bootees that I would be paying him a visit at the Palace Hotel as soon as I was dismissed. But first a day of tedious duty punctuated by only one joy: accompanying Buck to the Embarcadero, where we joined a huge throng and the Califa National Band in waving goodbye to the Infantina. The Zu-Zu, her Boy Toys (including Udo), and an enormous amount of luggage were to sail down the coast and meet up with the Infanta at Angeles and then travel back to Califa in the Infanta’s convoy.

The sendoff was a big event, with the band playing, cannons firing, and the Warlord sniveling into his hankie, as though the Zu-Zu were going to be gone for a year instead of only a few weeks. I saw Udo from an extreme distance. Or, rather, I saw Udo’s hairstyle from an extreme distance: He’d swept his hair up into a giant pouf and perched a small wooden boat upon its wave. Judging from the admiring noises I heard from the crowd, he was about to start a trend.

I hoped the Zu-Zu and Udo had a very nice voyage to Angeles. I hoped the sea was rough, and their ship was leaky, and maybe even that there would be sharks or a pirate or two.
Hope is free
, Nini Mo said.
You can have all you want
. I had to admit one thing: Sieur Wraathmyr might be arrogant, but he wasn’t a bootlicker. It was very hard for me to imagine him as anyone’s lap dog. Or wearing his hair in a giant pouf, either.

That evening, I had to work late and then accompany Buck to dinner at the O Club with a bunch of yaller dogs, but as soon as I was dismissed, I hightailed it down to the Palace Hotel. Sieur Wraathmyr wasn’t there. According to the bellhop, he’d gone to Sacto and would return by the end of the week. I had no choice but to wait until he returned.

So on to an excruciating week, filled with frantic days full of frantic preparation for the Infanta’s arrival, and frantic nights when I lay in bed and imagined what would happen if I didn’t get the map back. Four times I went down to the Palace Hotel to see if Sieur Wraathmyr had returned, just in case. He hadn’t, and by my third visit, the bellhops were nudging each other and winking when they saw me. Clearly they thought I had something other than Bradstock bootees in mind. Which was true, but not at all what they were thinking.

Not at all.

Never.

As the week dragged on and on, my mood grew fouler and more desperate. I considered asking for leave and sneaking up to Sacto to confront Sieur Wraathmyr there. But Lieutenant Sabre had gone on sick leave, and I didn’t dare ask Buck. I even considered telling Poppy what I had done, sending him after Sieur Wraathmyr. Let’s see Sieur Wer-bear tell Hotspur to jump into the Bay! But I didn’t dare that, either.

First, Poppy would kill me if he knew I had gone against our agreement that I stay out of the Current. And second, he didn’t know that Tiny Doom was still alive, and I wasn’t sure what he would do when he found out. Scream? Howl? Revert back to the crazy Poppy of old? Of course, he would find out eventually, but I’d just as soon put that day off.

Time was slipping away, and with it my future; the Infanta would arrive in a few weeks and that would be it. It would be all be over. Califa would be fully Birdie-ized and my hopes of reclaiming my family heritage would be
punto
final
. I’d be trapped in duty and paperwork, forever powerless.

If my mood was foul, Buck’s was even fouler. Pow was on a poo strike and hadn’t produced all week. His grunting and wailing was keeping them both up, and so she was even less inclined to put up with budget overruns, missing returns, and squabbles over who was supposed to be in charge of painting over the anti-Birdie slogans that kept appearing on the wall of the Birdie Ambassador’s house. No one had seen or heard of the Dainty Pirate in over a year, but other pirates, equally ruthless and far less mannered, had taken his place, and their antics up and down the coast were giving her fits.

Without Lieutenant Sabre to protect us, everyone in the office was feeling Buck’s teeth. She sent Private Hargrave to the stockade for spending too much time in the loo; she complained about Sergeant Carheña’s handwriting; she had a huge blowout with the quartermaster about how much money he had spent on flowers for the Infanta’s welcome-home parade. She even banished the dogs, Flynn included, for barking at a courier and waking Pow from his nap. The other clerks and I hunkered down at our desks and hoped to stay away from her bite, and we were not always successful.

Then, on Friday afternoon, while I was at my desk working on yet another giant pile of paperwork with my forebrain and worrying about the wer-bear with my back brain, Buck called me into her office. Obeying her summons, I found her bent over her settee, changing Pow’s diaper.

“Reporting as requested, sir,” I said. She handed me the soggy diaper and I threw it in the pail.

“Have a seat, Flora, I need to talk to you.”

For a moment I could hardly breathe. All the things that Buck could want to talk to me about ran through my head—the list was long and quite punitive.

Buck sat down in her nursing chair, settling Pow in for a feed. Trying to act innocent and casual, although my insides were quivering, I plunked down on the settee.

“I was at Saeta House just now, where I saw the Birdie Ambassador.”

“Hmmmm?” I tried to sound noncommittal.

“Did you meet his son, the Conde, at the Infantina’s birthday party?”

“Well, ayah, yes.”

She said, exasperated, “And you didn’t think to mention this to me?”

“I didn’t think it was that important, really The kid was lost in the Zu-Zu’s haunted house. I just helped him get un-lost. That’s all. It was nothing.”

Buck sighed. “Well, it was something. It was something to the Duque. Apparently he was so taken with your kindness toward his son that now he’s asking you to do him a favor.”

“A favor?” I asked in horror. Surely the Conde hadn’t stuck to his desire to have me as his nanny. Pow was bad enough, but to be duenna to a Birdie? And the Birdie Ambassador’s son to boot?
No good deed goes unpunished
, Nini Mo said. I should have left that kid to wander the haunted house until he turned twenty-five or the reanimated alligators ate him, whichever came first.

“The Duquesa de Xipe Totec, the Ambassador’s wife, was traveling to Califa with the Infanta. She took sick in Cuilihuacan and had to stay behind when the Infanta’s convoy moved on. Now she’s better, but she needs to be escorted from Cuilihuacan to rejoin the convoy The Ambassador asked a favor of me. Well, he couched it as a favor, but it wasn’t really It was an order. They say things so sweetly, the damn Birdies, as though you have a choice, but you never do. So you’ll have to go to Cuilihuacan and escort her back.”

It took a moment for Buck’s words to sink in, and when they did, they sank all the way to the bottom of my boots, along with my heart and all my courage.

Cuilihuacan!

Cuilihuacan is in the Huitzil Empire. Buck was sending me into Birdieland. My body went stiff with panic. The Birdie Ambassador knew who I really was. He had to. Someone had betrayed me and now the Birdie Ambassador was tricking Buck into sending me within the Empire, where I’d be arrested and sent to Anahuatl City to be sacrificed to the Lord of the Smoked Mirror.

“Don’t look so green, Flora. It’s a ruse, of course. Xipe Totec just wants to use you as leverage against me. He figures if you are within his control, I’ll have to behave, and he is most eager for me to behave right now. He’s the one who advocated that the Infanta be allowed to return to Califa, that we no longer needed such strong oversight, that we were well pacified. So it would look very bad on him if there were to be, shall we say, trouble. And as long as there is no trouble, you’ll be perfectly safe, Flora. And there will be no trouble.” But Buck sounded as though she was trying to convince herself as well as me.

“Can’t you get me out of it some way, Mamma?” I pleaded.

“I can’t refuse, Flora. I would if I could, but I can’t. But I promise you, you’ll be safe.” Pow had fallen asleep, and she rocked him gently. “Xipe Totec may figure that if he has you, he also has the goods on me. But I’ve got goods on him, too, as he knows full well, so he’ll be careful.”

“But what if they try to sacrifice me?”

“Don’t be hysterical, Flora. They wouldn’t dare. You’ll be fine.”

“Mamma...”

“Don’t give me that look, Lieutenant. This is not a request. It’s an order.” Then Buck started babbling about politics and diplomacy, and my fear turned to anger that flared higher and higher. Did she think I was an idiot? I knew she’d give me over in a minute if it meant keeping the peace in Califa. After Idden had deserted, hadn’t Buck issued a warrant for her arrest? Hadn’t she ordered the Dainty Pirate, Califa’s last great hero, executed? Hadn’t she forced Poppy to drop his suit for slander against the Birdie Ambassador? She was nothing but a Birdie lap dog, and now she was throwing me to them.

“You’ll be fine,” she said again.

I said furiously, “No, I won’t. You don’t have to pretend anymore. I know the truth. I know you are not my real mother. I know who my real mother is. I know why the Birdies want me.”

As soon as the words were said, I regretted them. But it was too late to take them back.

Buck stared at me, her face as white as her shirt. Without a word, she stood up and, cradling Pow against her shoulder, locked the door. She cranked the transom down, closed and locked the office window, and snapped the shutters shut.

She turned back to me and said very quietly, “How did you find out?”

“Lord Axacaya told me,” I mumbled.

“Axacaya knows? Ah, fike. Fike. FIKE!” The last was a furious whisper. I had never heard Buck swear before, and although it was stupid to feel shock, I did. She collapsed into the nursing chair, clutching Pow.

“Then it is a trap. It is a trap. Ah, fike. Why didn’t I kill him when I had the chance? Oh, blessed Califa. Shite. Fike. Piss.” Buck closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them. “How long have you known?”

“A few months.” I was glad she hadn’t asked me why Axacaya had told me or why I had been talking to him in the first place. “You lied to me! All these years you’ve lied to me!”

“To save your life, Flora.”

“You owe me the truth!”

Other books

Nory Ryan's Song by Patricia Reilly Giff
Moonseed by Stephen Baxter
Bloom by A.P. Kensey
Making the Cut by David Skuy
Missionary Daddy by Linda Goodnight
Bookishly Ever After by Isabel Bandeira