May Bird and the Ever After (27 page)

May groaned and pulled him up. They climbed the hill together behind John.

“Look lively, Pumpkin. There'll be no time fer yer laziness today,” John chided.

Pumpkin stuck out his tongue at John's back, but sucked it in again when he saw May frowning at him. As they reached the ridge, and Pumpkin got a view of the city, he thrust his fingers into his mouth and dropped his mischievous mood altogether.

John had knelt down and was digging in the dirt, and now he pulled out a handful of worms and centipedes, then dropped them into May's hair and down into her bathing suit.

“Ah!” May jumped up and down, trying to brush them off.

“Stand still, girl!” John said, grabbing her wrist to stop her from jumping. “Do ye want to make it past the sniffing phantoms or not?”

May considered. Then she let her arms drop to her sides.

“Now, I gathered up some mold this morning, and I've got this stuff on the bottom of my shoe that's been here for about fifty years. . . .” John reached beneath his shoe and pulled out a decayed mass of brown goo. Then he rubbed it over both hands and smeared it on May's arms and legs. May thought she might vomit. She retched a few times and held her nose.

“There, that gets rid of the living scent nicely. Now for me.”

John reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny bottle of clear liquid, then squirted himself several times. May read the label: Crook-Be-Gone.

“Mr. Jibber, shouldn't this wait till we're closer to the city?”

“What do you mean, lass?”

“Well, won't it wear off before we get there?”

“My dear, it'll take us ten minutes to get to the city. Perhaps fifteen.”

May blinked at him several times, then looked across the long wide plain separating them from the tiny city in the distance. It had to be hundreds of miles away. “Really?”

“It's right there.” John pointed in the same direction she was already looking.

“But it'll take days to get there.” She looked at Pumpkin, as if to verify she wasn't crazy.

Pumpkin, though he didn't need to cover up his normal ghost scent, had dug up a handful of worms anyway and was dropping them into his ragged shirt one by one. “The City of Ether's in a wormhole,” he said absently, dangling a long slimy worm next to his neck,
“everybody
knows that.”

John started walking across the field, with Pumpkin traipsing along behind him with his worms, leaving May with no choice but to follow. She trailed behind, only noticing after several steps that something strange was happening to the view as they walked. The farther John and Pumpkin got from May, the bigger they seemed to get, compared to the city. Or was it that the city was getting smaller? Yes, the more they walked, the less and less the city looked like something huge in the distance and more like something tiny on the ground. May hurried to keep up with them, catching up breathlessly when they came to a halt. All three of them stared down at their feet. There was the city, the size of an anthill. It reached to May's shins and was surrounded by thousands of tiny curved pebbles stuck in the ground. A spiral pattern was furrowed in the dirt encircling the city scene.

“Wow,” May said, kneeling down. To her astonishment she could just make out tiny figures drifting up and down the tiny streets. “I can't believe it.” She reached out a hand to touch the top of the tallest building, a white structure that towered over the rest of the city, but as she did, a powerful zap traveled up and down her spine, knocking her backward. She landed on the ground with a thud.

“My, yer daft, lass. It's protected, of course. Wouldn't do at all if it weren't,” John said.

“Thanks for warning me,” May muttered, standing up, embarrassed. John and Pumpkin looked at each other, then at her, and burst into laughter.

“What?” May went to pat her hair, and noticed it was sticking straight up. “Oh, ha ha.” A tiny smile snuck onto her lips. She stuck her hands in the dirt and grabbed two fistfuls, rubbing them into her hair.

“Don't ye know about wormholes, dearie?” John asked when she was finished, swiping a jolly tear from his eye.

May shook her head.

“There are lots of them all over the realm, but this is the biggest one. Wormholes make space all distorted. So a giant city can fit into a tiny area.”

May stared at it. “But, how do we get in there?”

“Why, right there.”

John nodded to his left. Beaten through the dirt a few feet away was a smooth path that seemed to lead forward, away from the city. A sign beside it announced it to be
PAIN IN THE FOOT TRAIL
.

“Well, come on, then,” John said, walking ahead. Pumpkin and May trailed behind him. The train trickled to a stop.

Though the trail had looked like it would go straight, it actually curved hard to the left a few paces in, and curved and curved, making a wide circle around the city.

“What are we doing?” May asked.

“Ay, lass, it's a wonder you ever made it to the grotto in the first place with that feeble mind of yers. We're going to the city, remember?”

May scowled, feeling foolish. “But we're walking in circles.” “We're walking in a
spiral,
” John answered, shaking his head in exasperation.

“Yes, a
spiral,”
Pumpkin added in a superior tone, also shaking his head.

May fought back a sigh of frustration. She didn't know how that was much different, but she kept her mouth shut. And after a few seconds she realized, where the city had gotten smaller before, it was now bigger, closer. With every few steps it got much larger in front of them, the spikes that surrounded it taking on a more distinct shape.

By the time the path finally came to an end, May had gone speechless. They were at the edge of an enormous, desolate cemetery, filled with tens of thousands of gravestones. Across it gaped the enormous City of Ether.

“Ohhh,” Pumpkin moaned. May moaned in her heart too. It looked to be a hundred times the size of New York, which—in the Saint Agatha's brochures—had looked gigantic. It glowed brightly, with an enormous, slate gray rock wall surrounding it and impossible rooftops reaching toward the stars. And these were all dwarfed by the tallest building, the soaring spire of which disappeared into the dusky starry sky, so that the point of it was invisible.

“There”—John pointed a bony, dirt-caked finger toward the place where the spire disappeared into the sky—“is where the Book lies.”

Pumpkin let out another groan.

“Oh,” May whispered, feeling very small in all sorts of ways. “Up there?” It was
so
high. Way, way too high. May thanked
her lucky stars that John the Jibber was with them. Maybe he would go up to the top and bring the Book down. Without him she would have turned around right then and there and given up.

Beneath the shadow of the city, and outside the wall, a huge shape was moving back and forth, with what looked like arms stretching out and making long scooping motions toward the ground.

“Is that. . .” May brushed her soggy hair aside.

“The south gate sniffing phantom,” John finished for her. “Sure is. And this,”—John pointed to the field full of millions of headstones and gaping grave holes—“is where the city ghosts come for haunting.”

May's eyes met Pumpkin's.

“Well, we best get moving, you two. We want to miss rush hour, that's certain.”

May tightened her death shroud around her and started walking.

They picked their way across the graves, which May realized were what had appeared as pebbles from above. She and Pumpkin zigzagged back and forth behind John the Jibber, careful not to get too close to any of the holes for fear of falling in. John was a faster zigger and zagger, however, and he was soon several feet ahead of them.

“Now, no need to be squeamish, you two. Now's not the time for lollygagging. When the bells on that yonder church ring midnight, the spirits'll come out for work, and if we're out here then, we'll have
our
work cut out for us.”

May tried to pick up her pace, stepping faster around the stones and taking longer strides.

“That's it, c'mon.” John turned his gaunt, curved back toward them and picked up his pace.

Up ahead May could see a bridge rising from the ground to the top of the gate and a line of spirits straggling its way along it. The sniffing phantom stood beside the bridge like a tall white pillar. He glowed with faint white light and had the face of an old man covered in snow, with droopy wrinkled eyelids over pale gray eyes, each the size of a small house. His nose was his most striking and exceptional feature—it was large and hooked and had enormous flaring nostrils to which he lifted one spirit after another with his massive palms. Each time he did, he made a deafening sniffing sound, and the spirit in his hands was sucked right up into one of his nostrils. He had to blow hard to get it out, using his hands as a hankie to catch the spirit before laying it down on the bridge again and nudging it toward a small archway through which it disappeared. Pumpkin reached for May's hand, his frigid white fingers finding their way into hers.

On the walls of the city huge stone gargoyles perched, looking ready to pounce and wearing Holo-Pix cameras strapped around their necks. Behind them rose a giant clock tower, announcing the time to be eleven minutes before midnight.

Behind the phantom was a giant green can emblazoned with the word INCARNERATOR and covered tightly with a lid.

May could see, when John turned to look back at her, that a deep wrinkle had creased his brow. “Almost fergot. Don't ferget to hold your breath, lassie. Breath smell is a dead giveaway.”

The fear on his face made May's own courage falter. She adjusted her death shroud nervously. “Are you okay, Mr. Jibber?”

“I'm a bit nervous, that's all. Listen, if we get separated for any reason, we're staying at the Final Rest Hotel, room nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine, got it?”

“We won't get separated, will we?”

John grinned falsely, showing his black rotted teeth. “Nah. Ye got nothing to worry about.”

They got to the foot of the bridge, May and Pumpkin's heads falling back on their necks to stare up at the phantom. “Ohhh, my,” Pumpkin groaned. May tightened her grip on his hand. “It'll be okay,” she whispered.

“Well, hold on to yer booty,” John said.

May tugged on Pumpkin's hand, and they followed him up the walk.

The group of spirits in front of them appeared to be a family of three—two parents and a very little girl. The little girl kept turning to goggle at May and make funny faces. May crouched down and made funny faces back.

“Why are you going to the city?” the girl asked. Her eyes were large and gaunt.

“I'm looking for something important. What about you?”

“Mommy says the territories aren't safe anymore. She says at least the High Ghosts in the city will look out for us.”

“Oh.” May nodded. She wondered who the High Ghosts were.

The family inched ahead, the mother tugging her daughter along by the hand. Her small feet floated out behind her as she was dragged, then she came to rest again above the walkway, the tatters of her ragged dress settling around her.

May held Pumpkin's hand tighter, watching the spirits being
lifted and sucked one by one into the phantom's nose, then dropped by the small archway up top. Each floated through the arch and disappeared, seeming to fall out of sight. Some gave a little squeal as they went.

The giant white hand descended right in front of May, pinching the mother between one giant thumb and one giant forefinger, and lifting her way up out of sight. It was all May could do to keep from stumbling backward. The mother came back down and waited there for the rest of her family. The same happened to the father. While she waited, her big blue eyes huge, the little girl locked her gaze on May. Then her eyes seemed to widen in recognition. “You're not dead,” she whispered.

A shock ran its way up and down May's spine. “Yes, I am,” she lied.

But the girl was reaching into the top of her dress and in another moment, the gleaming Bogey whistle appeared.

“No, you're not.” The girl narrowed her eyes and lifted the whistle to her tiny pink lips just as large fingers descended and lifted her up. The whistle was knocked out of her hands, and the girl disappeared into the air. When she came back down, she gaped at May in horror, then ran toward her mother while the enormous hand closed around May's body and lifted her up.

May felt the roller-coaster feeling of her stomach dropping as she sped through the air, up, up, and up. She was being lifted
so
fast that the force blew her black hair around her face and some of the cockroaches flew out. As soon as she caught her breath, she sucked it in and held it, her cheeks puffing out like balloons. She had the stabbing, prickly feeling she had gotten in third
grade, when she'd cheated on a math test. It was the throbbing, gut-pounding feeling that she was a big fake about to be caught.