Happenstance Found (Books of Umber #1) (12 page)

“I apologize for the mayhem, Your Highness,” Umber said.

Argent replied with a single rapid nod, and strode stiffly away.

Umber seemed to exhale for a full minute. Hap heard him mutter something that he probably meant to think to himself. “Slow down, Umber. You’re pushing too far, too fast, and it scares them.” Umber looked around as if coming out of a daydream and shrugged toward Hap. “Don’t get the wrong idea, Happenstance. Prince Argent isn’t a bad fellow. He can be reasoned with, and he honestly cares about his people. But he lacks imagination. Trust me, though, there could be a worse successor to the king.”

“Is the king here tonight?” asked Hap.

“The king is very ill,” Umber replied. He scanned the crowd and scowled. “Where’s that waiter with the little sausages? I kept trying to wave him over….”

Hap noticed a man on the other side of the room who glanced Umber’s way every few moments.
Another prince?
Hap wondered. This fellow looked like a better groomed version of Prince Argent, with eyes and hair of chestnut brown. He wore a narrow crown with an emerald in its center, and a short green cape held by a golden clasp at his throat.

“Is that Prince Galbus by the fountain?” asked Hap.

When Umber looked that way, the man nodded. Umber smiled in return, but his mouth fell flat when he turned back to Hap. “No. That is Loden, the youngest prince. Third in line from the throne, and we should all be thankful for that.”

“Why?” Hap asked, watching Prince Loden talk to a circle of admirers.

Umber whispered his reply. “Loden is a cunning, ambitious schemer with no scruples to speak of. But few people realize it because he is also endlessly charming. I intend to keep you as far from him as possible.”

“Oh,” said Hap. It was hard to imagine that the handsome man across the room was as bad as Umber believed. “Well, what is Prince Galbus like?”

A blast of horns dulled the chatter and laughter of the guests. All heads turned toward the musicians with their trumpets angled high. When the fanfare ended, a giddy fellow in garish clothes parted some nearby curtains and pranced into the hall. In one hand was a bowl-size goblet filled with red wine sloshing over the rim. He raised it to his lips and guzzled while applause erupted among the guests, and they began to shout his name: “Galbus! Galbus!”

The middle prince did a jig that caused his crown to fall off, and then stopped and raised the goblet high. He wobbled as he waited for the applause and laughter to fade, and finally spoke in a loud, unsteady voice. “My friends, my friends! Welcome and thank you for joining my celebration!”

Galbus was paler, blonder, and thinner than his brothers, and more boyish, with large eyes and red cheeks. Something about his manner—and the dark wine-stains all over his shirt and trousers—gave Hap the impression that Galbus was liable to say something outrageous.

“Before I begin to accept your presents—and you know how I love presents!—I would like to show you the gift I’ve gotten for myself.” A mischievous grin spread over Galbus’s face. The guests chuckled, and a breathless expectation filled the room. Hap saw Argent staring woodenly with his arms folded across his chest.

Galbus hiccupped, staggered, and went on. “I said to myself: ‘Myself, there is something your brothers have that you do not!’ And do you know what that is?”

“Oh dear, what’s he up to now?” Umber said quietly, barely moving his lips.

Galbus put a cupped hand beside his ear. “I said, people, do you know what that is?”

The guests shouted back. “No! Tell us, Your Highness! What is it?”

Galbus stumbled back, nearly falling. He heaved a dramatic sigh of relief. “My brothers have little armies all their own to keep their royal persons safe, and I do not! And so, I am proud to introduce my new royal guard!” He swept his hand toward the curtain at his back, which was yanked aside by an accomplice. From the corridor behind it raced two dozen pigs, all dressed in miniature versions of the uniforms that Argent and Loden’s guards wore, but with yellow capes. The pigs dashed into the crowd, squealing and slipping on the marble floor of the hall. The walls shook with the laughter of the guests, and Galbus roared with such gusto that he fell to his knees and his side, somehow managing not to spill the rest of his wine. In the chaos, Hap saw Prince Argent turn away in disgust and leave the room.

The party returned to some normalcy once the swine had been herded from the hall. Galbus gleefully accepted present after present, admiring each before handing it to a servant to whisk away. Finally the young prince spotted Umber across the room, and his mouth opened with delight. He raced over, careening off other guests along the way.

“Umber, dearest Umber!” he cried when he arrived, out of breath and with his crown askew. “I’m so glad you’re here, it wouldn’t have been a party without you!”

Umber repeated his formal bow. “Happy birthday, Your Highness. And may I introduce—”

“And look at
you
!” interrupted Galbus, grabbing Hap by the shoulders. “My stars, look at those eyes! You’re the boy everyone’s talking about!”

“I … I guess,” Hap said, wishing he’d left with the pigs.

Galbus’s breath smelled like wine. “Is it true that you can leap so high? I beg you, show me! Show us all!”

“Your Highness,” Umber said quickly, “what Hap did was out of panic, and he certainly could not reproduce the feat. Now, if I may—will you accept the first gift I’ve arranged for you this evening?”

“Of course!” cried Galbus, releasing Hap and clasping his hands together.

Umber looked at the musicians at the far end of the room. The conductor had been waiting expectantly for a signal that Umber finally provided: a tap of his nose with two fingers. The conductor nodded, suppressing a smile. He called out to the guests. “A gift for his majesty Prince Galbus:
new music
!” As the people rushed to complete their conversations, the conductor faced his musicians and lifted his arms. He stirred the air with his hands, the last whispers fell to silence, and the music began.

A cello spoke first, beginning so simply that some in the crowd gave one another secret shrugs as if to say “Is that all?” Then violins joined in, echoing the graceful tune. Hap saw heads turn so their ears might better receive the sound. The song grew in complexity and majesty, with the crowd so still that a painter might have set up his easel and captured the scene. Hap looked at Galbus, who stood with his hands pressed over his heart as if to keep it from dissolving. A truth occurred to him: Music was a kind of magic, capable of weaving a powerful spell.

Umber leaned near Hap’s ear and said quietly: “Would you believe that where I came from, this piece was so familiar that many found it trite?”

Just when the music reached the peak of its intricate beauty, the tune settled down again like birds drifting off to sleep. Each instrument fell still in turn. The final note left behind a hush so profound that not a breath could be heard.

It was so quiet for so long that the conductor glanced nervously over his shoulder, wondering if somehow they had failed to please. But every guest was smiling toward Galbus, who stood in a daze. The prince came out of his rapture with a gasp for air. He pried his hands apart and applauded madly, and the rest joined him until the claps and shouts built to a thunderous roar.

“Umber! Umber!” Galbus cried, seizing Umber’s hand and shaking his arm from wrist to shoulder. “The finest yet! Magnificent!”

“I dedicate that to you, my good prince, and while the composer is long gone, I’m sure he would be pleased that it found such a happy new audience,” Umber said.

“What is this piece? And who was this composer? I have to know his name!”

“That was the Canon in D Major, Your Highness. And the name you seek is Johann Pachelbel.” Umber waved to the conductor, and the musicians resumed the livelier waltz they’d played before. “I have one more gift for you, my friend. Will you have it now?”

Galbus’s eyes grew huge as his gaze found the gift that Hap was holding. The prince snatched the present and tore off the paper. There was a hinged box inside; he threw the latch and opened it. Hap recognized it as the same box that someone had handed Umber when they first arrived in Kurahaven, with the same long-necked orange bottle nested inside. Galbus giggled as he pulled the bottle from the straw. “Is this what I think it is?”

Umber nodded. “It is indeed. The effect will be delightful, but I recommend you use it
outside
, Your Highness. In fact, I strongly advise it.”

“Have no fear!” Galbus said, holding the bottle high. A trio of laughing women rushed up and tugged at Galbus’s arms, urging him to dance. “Duty calls, Umber!” Galbus cried, stuffing the gift inside his vest. He grinned at Hap. “But you, young man, I hope to see you soon. A visit must be arranged! I’ll show you the gardens, and the Heartspring, and the guts of the great clock that Umber designed for us! Would you like that?”

“Um … yes, Your Highness.”

“Then it shall be done!” Galbus giggled as the ladies dragged him into the crowd of dancers. For the moment, Hap and Umber stood alone.

“We should leave before long, Hap,” Umber said. “There’s still time for the hypnosis. The sooner we try that the better, I think. With luck your memory will return tonight.”

Hap nodded. He’d met enough new people for one day.

There was a thunderous explosion among the dancers, and a yellow cloud billowed toward the ceiling. People squealed like children and ran from a central spot on the floor, except for a few who fainted. As the crowd parted, Hap saw Galbus, bent over and clutching his stomach, howling with glee. Around him, phantom serpents made of smoke wriggled toward the fleeing guests. The illusion did not last long; the serpents were already losing their shape and dissipating.

Umber groaned. “In fact, we should leave right now.”

“Not an entirely successful evening,” Umber said, raising his voice over the clatter of the wheels. He pulled his leather-clad notebook from his pocket. “Better make a note about the printing presses. Wouldn’t want a furious royalty on my hands.”

“Did it bother you, what Prince Argent said about your presses?” asked Hap.

Umber’s eyebrows writhed as he considered the question, and then he grinned. “Not terribly. There’s one thing the good prince doesn’t understand: Once an idea is out and about, it can’t be called back, silenced, or erased. You can’t contain it, any more than you could put the head of a dandelion back together after the wind has scattered its seeds. People have
seen
the movable-type printing press now, in my print shop and in the palace. They know such a thing is possible. That makes it inevitable. And that is all that matters.”

CHAPTER
14

“I think we’ll attempt it right here,”
Umber said. “It’s such a peaceful spot. Sit, Hap.”

They were back on the terrace atop the Aerie, under the tree of many fruits. Oates was with them for safekeeping, but Umber asked the big fellow to give them privacy, so he leaned against the balcony, out of earshot.

Warm air billowed, and hanging chimes played random melodies. The stars blazed with diamond brilliance overhead, though fingers of dark cloud had begun to reach across the sky from the north. Hap lay on the bench with his head propped on a pillow, and Umber sat on a stool beside him.

“Will this really help me remember?” Hap asked.

“It might,” Umber said. “Mind you, I’ve never tried it before.”

“Then how do you know what to do?”

Umber tugged at his nose. “I, er, did some research.” He quickly diverted the conversation. “But if this fails, we have other options. We’ll go ask Smudge, our archivist, what he might know about you.” Hap frowned, remembering the wild man who’d thrown rotten fruit at him and Lady Truden.

“And if that yields nothing,” Umber said, “there’s someone else we can talk to. But since we both need to stay relaxed right now, I’ll say no more about that.” He rubbed his hands together. “Let’s begin, Hap. First, close your eyes and make yourself as comfortable as you can. Good. Now take a deep breath. The deepest you’ve ever taken. Hold it for a moment, and let it out slowly.”

Hap shut his eyes. His chest rose as he filled it with air.

Umber dropped his voice to a slow, soothing hush. “Very nice. Again, Hap, but breathe with your mouth this time … yes. Much better. We’ll do ten more, and I’ll count with you. One. Two. Three. Four …”

Umber kept counting, and Hap kept breathing deeply. Umber told Hap to relax his body muscle by muscle, from his fingers to his shoulders, from his toes to his hips, from his head to his waist. From the moment he’d awoken in Alzumar, Hap had been unsettled, endangered, and hopelessly lost; but now he felt like a rope tied with a thousand knots slipping loose.

Umber whispered, suggesting images that came to life in Hap’s mind. Hap walked down imaginary stairs, feeling more at ease with each step down. He envisioned a cask filled with all his concerns, and the spigot opened up and the worries drained away. He pictured a shining candle in a dark room and pretended that nothing else existed. The world faded away. The lids of his eyes seemed to flutter on their own.
Is this what sleep is like?
he wondered.

Umber told Hap his right arm was as weightless as a feather—so light that it would begin to rise. And it did, floating up at Hap’s side, until Umber told him to let it fall.

“Wonderful,” Umber whispered. Then he asked Hap to remember. He took him back in time.

Remember sailing into Kurahaven.

Remember riding the leviathan barge, and the smell of spices inside.

Remember standing on the beach, watching Mount Ignis erupt. Do you remember?

“Yes.” Hap sighed. “I remember.”

Now imagine that you take a step backward, and it brings you farther back in time. Remember how we ran through the dark streets of Alzumar. Are you there? Do you remember?

“Yes.” Hap remembered it with perfect clarity, down to the clatter of claws as the tyrant worm pursued them. His nose was stung again by volcanic fumes.

Now step farther back. You’re in the room where we found you. Right before we found you. Do you remember?

“Yes.”

Tell me about it.

“I’m on my back. My cloak feels damp. The stone is warm. I have a cloth over my eyes. A man is with me. I don’t know who he is.”

Step back again, to the first moment you can remember. The instant you became aware.

“I … I open my eyes. I can’t see.” Hap felt a tiny shiver, deep inside his chest.

Hap. Listen carefully now, and concentrate. I want you to go farther. Before that moment.

Hap groaned.

Focus, Hap. Just step back a little farther in time. An instant before you opened your eyes. What’s happening?

Hap gritted his teeth and concentrated. “I … wait. Something. It’s strange. I still can’t see. But someone is holding me. Carrying me.”

Who? Is it the same man?

“I … I think so. It’s him. It’s WN.”

Where are you?

“I don’t know … I can’t tell. It’s strange … I’m nowhere.”

Nowhere?
Umber paused.
What’s happening?

“I think … I think we’re moving somehow.”

How? On a boat? Are you walking? Is he carrying you?

“He’s carrying me. But I don’t think he’s walking. I can’t tell!” There was a hitch in his breath.

It’s all right, Hap. Don’t be afraid. Can you tell me anything else? Do you hear anything, see anything?

Hap shook his head.

Try to go back a little more. Before the man was carrying you.

Hap’s face twitched. “It’s hard …”

Try, Hap. Just one more step. Try.

Hap forced his mind to push back. But it was moving into a fierce wind. With his fists clenched, he tried again.

His back met something hard, smooth and cold, and a chill ran through his bones. A gathering fear urged him to snap out of this trance, but he fought the instinct, sensing that the answer to the mystery was near. He turned around. “There’s something in my way. Like a wall.”

What kind of wall?
There was a new trace of excitement in Umber’s hushed voice.

Hap put his palms against the barrier. “It’s cold. Like ice, or glass.” He stared into it. It was murky gray, with tiny lines and bubbles trapped inside. He looked right and left, and the wall disappeared both ways, into a darkness that even his nocturnal eyesight couldn’t penetrate. Some dim instinct told him to follow the wall to his left, and so he walked sideways, keeping his hands on the frigid surface. Before long he came upon a strange pattern in the wall: a series of concentric, imperfect circles, almost like the lines that would form if he dropped a stone in still water. The wall seemed thinner here. He could almost see through it.

What’s happening now? What do you see?

“There’s something on the other side of the wall. It’s dark and blurry…. It looks like someone waving his arms.”

I don’t think the wall is real, Hap. It’s there to keep you from remembering what came before. Perhaps you put it there, or someone else did. But you have to get past it if you want to know.

“I can’t,” Hap said. Something rolled down the side of his face. It could have been a drop of sweat or a tear. He felt Umber’s hand close on his shaking wrist.

You can. Imagine the wall breaking. Make it happen. Start with a tiny crack, and make it grow. You are in control, Hap. Nobody has the right to wall your memories away
.

Hap drew in a great breath and held it. He put his nose near the wall and focused all his will on the distorted circle at the center of the rings, ignoring the dark blurry shape on the other side that frantically waved. “Break,” he said. He put his hands on either side of the circle and pushed.

There was a sound in his mind:
Tik. Tik
. A flaw appeared in the middle of the circle, and it turned into a crack, bending as it spread in a jagged path. The cold stung his hands, but he ignored the pain and kept pushing. His arms trembled, and the cold spread through his wrists and past his elbows.

Hap. Your arm is getting cold
.
I think—

“Wait! It’s working,” said Hap through chattering teeth. The crack spread, and the sound grew louder:
TIK. TIK
. The single jagged line spawned a dozen more, radiating outward.

Umber seized Hap’s shoulders. Hap could barely feel it, because his arms had gone numb as the cold swept past them and surrounded his heart.

Hap, come out of it. When I count to three, you will wake up!

“Wait!” cried Hap. “It’s going to—”

One! Two!

The wall shattered.