Grizelda (19 page)

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Authors: Margaret Taylor

Tags: #magic, #heroine, #urban, #revolution, #alternate history, #pixies, #goblins, #seamstress, #industrial, #paper magic, #female protagonist

BOOK: Grizelda
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“Toby, your grandpa’s in there, right? Maybe
he’s still alive. And how many of you know someone who’s been
arrested?”

Four or five hands rose up.

“Maybe it’s time to take them back.”

“Girl, nobody escapes from Promontory,” said
Mitchell.


I
did.” And then pulled off her
headscarf, letting her gray hair fall out. She couldn’t tell the
truth, not quite, but she could tell them something near to it.

“I got framed as a witch because of
this
–” She jabbed a finger at it. “I got sent to Promontory,
but I escaped. Even they think nobody escapes. But there’s holes in
Promontory. I’ve seen them.”

Jamin started pushing together a couple of
crates to make a makeshift table. “Have you got any details you can
tell us, Grizelda?”

 

 

Chapter 18

 

“What
was
that?”

Kricker was furious with Grizelda on the way
home. He kept driving his rat in front of her and tripping her up,
demanding answers. Over and over she gave him the same replies to
the same questions, and each time she was finding it harder to keep
calm.

“I have to do this, Kricker. It’s really
important.”

“You
promised
Geddy you wouldn’t go up
there again!”

“I know. It’s just … I have to do this.”

She looked ahead, where the lights of the
goblin city center were still just a faint glimmer in the distance.
There was still a long trudge to come through the dead, shut-down
part of the city before she could fall into her bed and pass out
for a few hours.

Kricker stormed behind her. “You’re going to
get hurt.”

But Grizelda wasn’t listening anymore.

“Did you see that?” she said.

She froze, head stretched out, peering into
the alley dimness ahead of her. She could have sworn she saw
something move there a moment ago. For several seconds, everything
was still. She had just enough time to start to panic. Not here,
not now, when there were no other goblins to be witnesses… Then a
pair of hands grabbed her at the waist from behind.

She screamed, twisting around, beating
pointlessly at the shape that was behind her. Then it yelled in
pain and let go.

She stumbled back to the far wall and came
face-to-face with a goblin, clutching his ankle and cursing.
The
spy.
Kricker was nowhere to be seen, but she knew he must be
nearby.

“Who are you?” she said shakily.

“Who I am is my own business.” He rubbed his
ankle, then gingerly he set his foot down.

Grizelda knew she should run away – now. She
took a few steps backwards to the mouth of the alley. Her feet
seemed leaden, unwilling to take her. She stopped and looked at
him.

“What is it you want? Why are you following
me?”

“What I want is for you to know we’re keeping
tabs on you,” he said.

“Are you with Miner Nelin?”

“No. Not that I mind his policies, but…” The
goblin waved it away and gave her a crocodile grin. Then his look
darkened. “You put in a mysterious order for ‘pretty paper.’ You
sneak out of town in the evening and don’t come back until the
middle of the night. You’d better watch out, or else we’ll think
you’re breaking the law.”

Grizelda took a few more steps backwards. She
took a deep breath, preparing herself.

“Breaking the law? I broke the law a long
time ago.”

Then she reached out to the shadows and let
them envelop her. The goblin blinked, looked up and down the alley.
He called out, as if she would answer. Then there was a flash of
Kricker’s orange hair and he seized his other ankle with a cry.

Meanwhile, Grizelda was sliding around behind
him to the alley mouth, treading lightly. As soon as she got clear
she broke into a run, her footsteps loud in the surrounding
darkness.

 

When Mant and Mr. Paxon shook hands, the
inspector’s grip was quite firm – a little more firm than was
considered friendly. Mant tried to smile politely and invited the
inspector from the Committees of Public Safety into his office. As
soon as Paxon had let go, he surreptitiously wrung out his
hand.

“Thank you for the guided tour of
Promontory,” said Paxon as he sat down. “It was quite thorough and
informative.”

“Well, I only hope it will make a positive
impression with the Republic.” Mant laughed nervously.

“One question,” said Paxon, steepling his
fingers the same way Lieutenant Calding did whenever he was pleased
about something. “I wonder how Promontory is going to deal with the
organizational issues it’s been having.”

“We plan to do a complete redesign of the
records room, sir,” said Mant.

His answer seemed to be satisfactory to the
inspector. He nodded, then leaned forward conspiratorially.

“One of your lieutenants has approached me –
on condition of anonymity, mind you – he has told me something that
would be disastrous for the prison if true. That one of your
prisoners has simply … disappeared.”

Mant felt himself going pale. Who could have
done it?
Anderson?
No, he’d just said it was a lieutenant.
Could it be – no, he must be going paranoid.

The inspector seemed to be expecting an
answer. When he didn’t get one, he pressed forward.

“Is this true?”

“No,” Mant managed.

Paxon made a
hmm
that Mant had
difficulty interpreting. “If it were, it would be something quite
unprecedented in the history of the prison. The cells were built
underground. That was the whole point. I’d hate to see you be the
first to lose track of a prisoner, Warden.”

“Of course,” said Mant.

“That said, we would like you to keep a good
eye on security. We’ll be needing it after the killing and
all.”

They got up and parted with a handshake, but
Mant felt sick to his stomach.

 

 

Chapter 19

 

“Hello?”

Grizelda stood on the floor of the ratrider
cave, her arms loaded with miniature clothes. It was just after the
end of the workday. As soon as the bell had rung, she had
practically flown out of the laundry room, causing Crome to give
her a sharp look. She didn’t care. She’d retraced the steps of her
ratrider guide carefully and managed to arrive at their grotto
without making any wrong turns. And now there was nobody here.

The lights to the ratrider’s homes were all
dimmed and there wasn’t a single one of the pixies to be seen. She
was beginning to wonder if she had gotten the time wrong when Geddy
appeared, standing on one of the rope bridges at her eye level.

“Hey, there, Grizelda. What brings you
here?”

She looked down. “Geddy, I know you’re going
to be really mad at me. But last night, I went up to the surface
again.”

“You shouldn’t have done that!”

“They’re
revolutionaries
, Geddy,” she
pleaded with him. “Revolutionaries. You read the books, you know
what it’s like up there. Something’s gone wrong with the Republic
and now people are disappearing in the middle of the night. This is
really important.”

As she spoke, the lights on the ratrider
houses were blinking on. The ratriders were coming out of their
homes to listen to her. First Kricker, then Tunya, then the others,
until the web of bridges was crowded with their colorful forms.

Grizelda realized they were there with a
start. She hurried to set the bundle of clothes down in front of
her. “I brought these for you,” she said. “They’re all stitched up
tight now, see?”

She backed away, allowing the ratriders to
come down and inspect her work. They passed them around between
them, making sounds of approval.

“These three ratriders, Kricker, Tunya, and
Geddy, they saved my life,” she said. “But the other people in
Promontory aren’t so lucky. They rot to death in that dungeon or
they get taken up to the firing squad. Some friends and I want to
set them all free.”

Kricker gave her a sharp look.
He
knew
what she was talking about. She only hoped to Heaven he wouldn’t
tell until she’d had the chance to tell the story her own way.

“Grizelda, do you realize what you’re doing?”
said Geddy.

“Yes, I do,” she said. “I know it’ll be
dangerous. But it’s worth it.” She turned to the others. “So will
you help us?”

One ratrider raised his hand. “I will.” Some
of the others followed suit and volunteered, but others hung back
and didn’t say anything. Kricker was one of the ones who
volunteered. Tunya was not.

“Please, Tunya,” she said.

She snuck a look at Kricker, then huffed.
“Oh, all right.”

“I really don’t think this is wise,” Geddy
said. “But if you’re going to do it, I’ll come, too. To keep an eye
on you.”

“Thank you.” She looked up at all of the
ratriders assembled on their rope bridges, watching her. “Thank
you, all of you. I need you to show me to the secret exit out of
Lonnes. And you can act as lookouts and spread the alarm. You can
move fast if you’re on the bats–”

“You never said anything about bats!” Kricker
said.

“I haven’t actually gone to Laricia yet,” she
said. “I’m going to right now. I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

Geddy shook his head. “You’ll never get
Laricia to cooperate with you.”

Kricker had gone white. He looked from
Grizelda to Geddy. “Geddy, you’re right. Grizzy, that lady’s crazy!
Out of her
mind
. A few screws loose, don’t you
understand?”

Tunya looked at him oddly. “Why is this a
problem? You afraid of heights or something?”

“Because it’s a really stupid idea!”

“Then it ought to be right up your
alley.”

 

Grizelda crouched behind a machine skeleton
in the vacant lot where Laricia spent her time, watching. The
stream running down the center of the lot glinted green from the
light of a lantern stick, jammed into the ground at the base of one
of the skeletons like a camping stake. The only movement was from a
small figure sitting cross-legged at the lantern’s foot. It was
making plucking motions like sewing.

Grizelda stepped up to her softly.
“Laricia?”

“Jeez!” In a flash, Laricia was on her feet,
fists up. When she saw it was only Grizelda, her look darkened.
“Don’t do that, girl! Damn, I thought I told you to buzz off.”

“I need your help,” Grizelda said.

“Well, I don’t need yours.” Laricia stuck out
her hand. “Look what you did! I just stuck myself. Leather needles
are
sharp
.”

“Please, hear me out. I’m with some ogre
revolutionaries. We need your bats to act as lookouts for a
jailbreak.”

“What do I care about ogre business?” She
crossed her arms and turned her back on Grizelda.

Grizelda looked at Laricia’s back, thinking
hard. The interview was obviously supposed to be over. She was only
moments from losing her hope of having bats for the breakout
forever. Laricia would scoop up her half-repaired bridle, start
climbing away on the machine skeleton, and be gone. She needed to
think fast.

“I know what you do care about,” Grizelda
said. “You care about your bats.”

Laricia turned around, and her look was
absolutely frightening. It wasn’t human; more like an angry
she-bear.

“All right, who put you up to this?”

Even though the woman was only five and a
half inches tall, Grizelda found herself shrinking back from her.
Laricia stepped forward.

“Was it Kricker? It would be like him.”

“Nobody. Nobody did.”

“You don’t have to lie. What did he say this
time? ‘Oh, she’s got bats in her belfry.’ That’s his favorite.” She
laughed, a mirthless bark. “They all think I’m mad. They leave me
alone, except when they send ogres here to torment me–”

She kicked out at a gear viciously. It
clanged and she yelled in pain. She sank down into a crouch, her
face covered in her hands.

Then Grizelda wasn’t afraid of her anymore.
How could she be, at this little figure, curled up in pain? She
knelt down so she was at Laricia’s eye level.

“If you help me, you can prove that you
aren’t.”

“Yeah? Like how?” Muffled, Laricia spoke to
the ground.

“This is only going to be the biggest …
ratrider prank in all of history. And you’ll get all the
credit.”

She looked up at Grizelda, one wary eye.
“Who’s in charge of this?”

“A revolutionary group. They’re called the
Lonnes Underground.”

Laricia was silent for a long while.

“All right, first tell them they’ve got a
stupid name. But I’ll listen to them. I can’t promise any more than
that.”

 

The basement room under the Trebuchet bustled
with voices tonight, barely restrained by their need to conceal
themselves from the customers overhead. Everybody had ideas for the
breakout plan. Solander had talked to the old man of the Trebuchet,
who let them use this room, and had gotten him to agree to front
them some money. He also said he’d talk to some of his friends.
Stevry intended to pick pockets to contribute to the fund. Katarin
had written up a list of all the supplies they would need to get
and some stores in town that wouldn’t ask too many questions.

“So, how is this going to work again?” Jamin
asked Grizelda. “You’ve been talking about these holes in
Promontory. What are they? How are we going to get in?”

Grizelda sat in the newest seat of their
circle, still a little appalled to be the center of so much
attention. The Undergrounders were paying attention to her. Her! A
seamstress from Miss Hesslehamer’s Charity Workshop.

She realized with a start that she hadn’t
thought about Miss Hesslehamer and the girls for days. What if they
were in there, in those horrid kennels? But the Undergrounders were
all waiting for her to answer.

“It turns out that the area that is now the
Promontory cell blocks used to belong to the goblins,” she
said.

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