The Mourning Emporium (27 page)

“And something’s missing,” thought Teo. Then she realized what it was—the familiar smell of curry was absent. It normally hung in a pleasant fug above the mermaids. Instead, a faintly medicinal smell filled the air.

“Our London Sisters.” There was an uncharacteristic coolness in her voice as Lussa introduced the unfamiliar company, which consisted of fifty wan mermaids with limp hair and languid postures. All wore black armbands, black wreaths in their hair and jet earrings identical to those stocked by Tristesse & Ganorus.

“They must be in mourning for the poor Melusine and Sea-Bishops,” guessed Teo, “and for Queen Victoria too, of course.”

At the sight of Turtledove and the ragged orphans, the lips of the London mermaids unanimously curled into expressions of distaste. As they murmured among themselves, Teo saw above their heads the same loopy, drunken-looking handwriting that had worried Lussa on the shells she’d received in Venice from these London mermaids.

One particularly pale mermaid cried, “Dirty street children! And a dog! Look at those sallow complexions! They’re sure to have brought some dreadful disease in with them. Or some eruptive condition! A dose must be taken!”

Turtledove sneezed voluminously. “We bulldogs is very suscepterbul to damp an’ cold.”

“Yes!” called the pale mermaid’s sisters. “A dose! A dose!” “MRS. DINSMORE’S GREAT ENGLISH COUGH AND CROUP BALSAM! Or some HALE’S HONEY OF HOREHOUND AND TAR?”

“Thankee kindly,” spluttered Turtledove, “but …”

“Not for you, filthy dog! For us! You sneezed in our direction.”

“You never know what the dirty beast might have. It’s probably rabid! We should take some precautionary CHARLES FORDE’S BILE BEANS FOR BILIOUSNESS.”

“Nerolia, no!” protested her lanky companion. “DR. BLAUD’S CAPSULES! They produce pure, rich blood without any disagreeable effects.”

“Which is why, Gloriana, they are recommended by the medical faculty as the best remedy for bloodlessness.”

“But I hain’t even bitten one of yew ladies,” protested Turtledove, his back leg starting to rise from the floor. He growled, “Yet …”

Fifty pairs of pale, thin arms reached toward the medicine shelves that lined the lower part of the cavern, and grasped at bottles similar to those that Teo had seen on the walls coming down. As they did so, she saw that the London mermaids’ waists were encumbered with stout buckled corsets with labels that read: HARNESS CONSTRICTIVE BELTS FOR THE INDELICATE: PROVIDES A SLIM FIGURE FOR EVEN THE LUMPIEST LADY.

Flos, in a voice heavy with sarcasm, explained, “Our droopy sisters seem to think dem crimpin’ contrapshuns keep dere arms and tails from droppin’ orf, or da like. Once da mermaids of London was famous for dere archery. Great strong forearms like a haunch of hog. Now look at dem!”

The arms of the London mermaids looked too delicate to lift an arrow, let alone a bow. The palest mermaid explained smugly, “Indeed, the HARNESS CONSTRICTIVE BELT prevents the buildup of unsightly muscles while preserving the feminine delicacy of the upper arm.”

“Pigs’ ribs!” observed Flos, under her breath. “And flapdoodle.”

“In flam-sauce,” agreed Catalina, with feeling.

The London mermaids swigged delicately on their bottles. One, introducing herself as Pucretia, offered Teo a paperful of ATKINSON’S INFANTS PRESERVATIVE and a bottle of DR. WILLIAM’S PILLS FOR PALE PEOPLE with an air of someone who was saving her life. Teo politely declined.

Silence fell on the cavern for a moment.

Then the Venetian mermaids broke out into a clamor. “Lackaday! This is what we have to help us fight Bajamonte Tiepolo and the Pretender and all their criminal tribes, human and ghostly. Weeping weasels ain’t in it!”

“The poor Creatures are Deluded,” murmured Lussa. “I have discreetly consulted the List of the Operative Ingredients in the Medicines that They so persistently swallow. And our Chef Catalina has analyzed Others in the Kitchen. ’Tis deeply Shocking! JAYNE’S EXPECTORANT, DR. PIECE’S FAVORITE PRESCRIPTION—laced with sugar! AYER’S CHERRY PECTORAL—a vital Spark of caffeine. MOTHER SIEGEL’S CURATIVE SYRUP contains pure cane sugar!”

Catalina broke in, “And sugar is also the working part of SETH ARNOLD’S COUGH KILLER, and TAYLOR’S SWEET GUM AND MULLEIN COMPOUND uses the same! As for ROUTLEY’S HERBAL COMPOUND FOR LADIES, why, the very instructions read: ‘One powder to be taken occasionally in tea.’ ”

“Tea!” echoed Lussa. “These poor London Mermaids are enslaved to its Use. This, of course, explains the Disorder in the Handwriting on their Shells & the Imbecility of their Behavior. ’Tis almost as if They suffer from the Muted Mermaid Malady, which is Akin to your Human Half-Dead disease. The Mermaids become Overexcited with Large Doses of Sugar in their Tea. Shortly thereafter, inevitably, their Spirits fall suddenly into a Sad and Languid state.”

“Mashed Mermaid Malady, more like,” grumbled Marsil.

Flos could not be contained any longer. “And when dem’s not drinking dem debilitating medickles, dem’s eatin’ English cakes. Nasty pale things like dirty sea foam. Dey call dem ‘Victoria sponge.’ Insult to da noble sponge, what is an hadmirable sea creature. Get down ’mazin’ quantities of da stuff. Sufferin’ catfish!”

Catalina, her chef’s hat limply at half-mast, mourned, “They will not permit us to cook our spicy foods. They say the smell of onions makes them bilious.”

“Lackaday,” moaned Flos, clutching her belly, which did indeed look flatter than it had before.

Lussa said abruptly, “We squander Precious Time in this Fruitless Banter! Children, the Bad Ship Bombazine is moored—Invisible to Humanfolk, of course—by St. Katharine Docks, scarcely a Mile distant. You must hide Yourselves at all Costs.”

“I knew they were here. I’ve started to have nightmares again,” Teo groaned.

“Teo and I have pretty much, ahem, buried ourselves,” began Renzo.

“But the boys on the Scilla.…” Teo bit her lip. “They’ve nowhere to hide.”

“All Children are at Risk in London now,” Lussa informed them. “The Parrots have been abroad and report that Human Criminals & Ghost-Convicts from the Hooroo roam the Streets looking for Child Victims to press-gang into Service for their Mistress. Children without Parents are the First to go. And the Plumper the Child, the more likely ’Tis to disappear, strangely.”

Turtledove emitted a low grunt. “Ain’t they ashamed of thesselves, stealing little childer? I is at yer service, Yer Wetness, pertikular agin all child-hurters an’ pye-rats.”

Lussa nodded graciously, yet she did not appear overencouraged by Turtledove’s offer. “The problem is that these Ghost-Convicts are in-the-Slaughterhouse.”

Renzo quickly itemized for Turtledove the various kinds of malevolent ghost with whom they’d had to deal in the battle to save Venice. The dog knitted his brows. “So, if I unnerstand correct-like, these slaughter’ouse-type pye-rats is the sort that ain’t sorry for what they done in life, even though it got ’em killed?”

“To a Man, they were imprisoned or hung for Piracy & Slave-Trading, Murder & Kidnap,” Lussa explained. “And They’d like Nothing Better than to continue with More of the Same. And for some Unknown, yet surely Evil Reason, They want Human Children for their Victims now.”

Turtledove raised his snout and howled.

Lussa moved on to better news: Signor Alicamoussa had escaped from the Venetian jail with the help of his resourceful Irish wife, Mercer, who had sent in some tame beavers from their menagerie to gnaw a hole in the door. At the mention of the circus-master’s name, the Venetian mermaids began to coo and bat their eyelids.

Even the London mermaids were not impervious to the circus-master’s charms, whispering eagerly among themselves.

Lussa continued smoothly, “Yar, Signor Alicamoussa arrives in London this very Night.”

The London mermaids produced hand mirrors from their Constrictive Belts and began to primp.

“But where is the noble Scilla?” asked Lussa suddenly. The turtleshell cleared to show the boat at St. Mary Overie Dock.

“So the Field-of-Excluding has faded on your Voyage. This is where You have been?” Lussa smiled. “So close to Us all these Days! We never thought to look for You Here! Well, the Circus-Master shall lodge Himself forthwith at the Scilla and take the remaining Boys into his Care. And You must join Them there: You & your Estimable new Allies, Turtledove & his London Children.”

“But we Londoners has a perfickly good ’ome at the Mansion Dolorous,” protested Turtledove, “bed, board an’ steadyish employmint too.”

“Who is that Duchessly Girl?” Lussa asked sharply, as Sibella, dressed in an explosion of lace, promenaded into view in the turtleshell. “This Mincing Miss is not Venetian, I detect.”

“A hostage taken by Miss Uish,” explained Renzo quickly. “Sibella.”

“In my Opinion, that Small Female could bear watching with a Close Eye. There is something about Her.…”

“Renzo’s eye is very partial to her,” remarked Teo bitterly.

“Oooh, who pulled your chain?” guffawed Tobias. “Not your favorite girlie, that one?”

“Supper is served,” Nerolia’s voice simpered from the darkness. She reappeared, wheeling a silver trolley of fine bone china around a track beside the pool by means of a golden shepherd’s crook hooked into the handle.

“Antispasmodic Tea, anyone?” offered Nerolia. She proceeded to dispense into tiny china cups a faintly yellow liquid from a squat object she proudly announced as “ROYLE’S PATENT SELF-POURING TEAPOT: ‘NO MORE ACHING ARMS.’ ”

“Caulk me dead lights!” moaned Flos.

But the London mermaids took their teacups eagerly and immediately stuck their little fingers out at right angles to the delicate handles.

Next, bone china plates of pallid greenish mush were distributed.

“Wot you call dat, missis?” demanded Flos, poking her finger into it.

“The common people give it a rather amusing title,” tittered Gloriana, “ ‘Pig-in-a-swamp,’ I believe.”

“Oh hie-ly amusing!” mimicked Flos. “What is it when it’s at home, missis?”

“An extensively boiled potato in a lake of marrowfat peas,” answered Nerolia.

“Yeeuccch! Looks like what ye’d cough up if ye had the bronchitis.”

The parrots burst into a juicy chorus of coughs.

“Have some WAUKESHA ARCADIAN GINGER ALE,” offered Pucretia. “It counteracts the bile, you know.”

The Venetian mermaids’ eyes brightened at the thought of something spicy.

“Without the ginger or the bubbles, both highly prejudicial to the digestion.”

“Without, without, without …,” chanted the parrots.

“Ye drivelswigging bootless bladders!” Flos began, “Prithee—”

“Flos,” giggled Gloriana, “you would profit from some CARTER’S LITTLE NERVE PILLS. They would render you more comfortable in yourself.”

Exasperation sharpened Lussa’s voice, “Ladies! You squander Priceless Time in these Perpetual Squabbles while We face the Deadliest of Enemies once more!” She turned to the London mermaids, “And yet again, I ask You, Sisters, will You not take up Arms? It is clear that your City too faces Destruction at his pitiless Hand.”

But the London mermaids downed the contents of their teacups, folded their thin arms over their narrow chests and stared at Lussa with stubborn expressions.

“How’s yew goin’ to get ’em to fight when these pallid gels—savin’ their graces—can’t even lift a teapot,” inquired Turtledove, “Yer Scaliness?”

Catalina and Marsil now approached, pointing to the turtleshell. One of them whispered to Lussa, who turned to the dog with a worried expression. “I regret that even while You have been Here, your London Refuge has been Discovered.”

“Discovered by whom?” Renzo asked tightly.

The two mermaids swiveled the turtleshell toward them. It turned cloudy, and then filled with a scene of dark London streets.

“I’ll be dognabbed if that ain’t a cunning device,” Turtledove said, and sniffed admiringly. “Do it come in other flavors outside o’ turtle?”

The shell began to trace the Southwark byways that led to the Tristesse & Ganorus mourning emporium. Inside, a scene of devastation was revealed. Dresses lay torn and trampled. Cabinets were smashed. Mourning brooches were shattered like crushed insects. The Improving Tomes Library lay in ruins.

“Yoiks!” remarked one of the parrots.

“Who did that deed?” growled Turtledove. “I’ll tear him leg from liver! And where’s me childer?”

The shell closed in on a pair of Ghost-Convicts from the Bombazine. They were ransacking the jewelry cabinets. Their daggers glinted in the gas-lit gloom of the Mansion Dolorous. Lussa commented scathingly, “One cannot take the Gold-Lust out of the Criminal Soul.”

Now a taller Ghost-Convict in a lieutenant’s hat approached the looters. He kicked both of them across the room and advanced on the nearest one, his cutlass raised. A shark’s tooth was to be seen sticking out of his back. He shouted hoarsely, “What are you doing, yer prize drongoes?”

The looter lifted his scarred hand to protect his face, begging piteously: “No, no, think on me poor Mammy.…”

Any further words were prevented by the lieutenant cutting off the Ghost-Convict’s head. But as he was already dead, the ghost simply rose and saluted toward his empty neck. As he did so, the lieutenant shouted, “Children! We’re looking for children. A boy and a girl. From Venice.”

“A girl,” said Teo flatly. “Then they know that I am not a boy and that I am here.”

She felt a tremor fork down her spine and thought she might faint.

“Hey, where did young Teodora git to?” exclaimed Turtledove.

“Nowherth. She’s righth beside Renzo,” affirmed the District Disgrace. Tobias nodded vigorously and pointed. Teo, feeling herself again, smiled.

“For a minute there, she was vanished into thin air,” marveled the dog. “What a doings!”

“That was Teo going between-the-Linings. Between-the-Linings means she’s still here, but she’s not visible to ordinary adults now. Just to children, animals, mermaids and ghosts,” Renzo told him. “And to the Incogniti too, of course.”

“This befalls Her when It becomes too Dangerous for Teodora to be Visible,” explained Lussa. “As the Undrowned Child of an antique Venetian Prophecy, She is the most Hated Object of our Enemy.”