Flora Segunda: Being the Magickal Mishaps of a Girl of Spirit, Her Glass-Gazing Sidekick, Two Ominous Butlers (One Blue), a House with Eleven Thousand Rooms, and a Red Dog (Magic Carpet Books) (20 page)

So we rode on, leaving the blue bursts of light behind us. The cold was biting, and my hinder was going numb—surely we were almost there? What seemed like an eternity later, but was probably only about fifteen minutes, Zoo Battery loomed so suddenly out of the fog that Udo almost ran Mouse right into it. The wooden gates towered over us, at least twenty feet high and wide enough for four riders to enter abreast. Zoo Battery defends the southern end of the Playa and she houses sixty-five guns, so her red brick walls are high and thick. The gates were painted to look like teeth, giving the doors the appearance of a grinning, hungry mouth.

Udo dismounted, then advanced to bang heavily on the barred doors. His blows were tiny little puffs of sound, hardly louder than the distant crashing surf, but he had barely lifted his fist up from the third one when a cavity appeared in one of the lower teeth and an eye looked out.

“Who comes here?” the eye demanded.

“Friend, with the countersign.” Udo sounded cool as lemonade.

“Answer, friend, with the countersign.”

Here it was: No turning back. While Mamma had been attending to Poppy after his fit last night, I had spent a few minutes in the parlor, snooping through her correspondence book for passwords. I hoped that the Sign List I had copied hadn’t been updated; I hoped that the passwords had not been changed. Here was the first test.

“Vilipend,” said Udo, sounding rather bored.

The cavity closed.

Udo hitched his hat back on his head and scratched his nose. He tucked his reins under his arm, so as to adjust his sabre belt. He scratched behind Mouse’s ear. The seconds clicked by. I thought I might scream. This was taking far too long; the guard should have recognized the countersign immediately, then opened the doors. They must have changed the password. My mind’s eye saw through the Toothy Doors into the sally port beyond, where the guard was now assembled, rifles at the ready, to charge forward and blast the intruders: us.

“I will protest to Colonel Yangze,” Udo said to me. “It’s outrageous that we should be left lingering in the cold like this.” Just as he raised his fist to hammer on the door again, before I could suggest we scarper, a crack appeared along the edge of one of the teeth. The crack widened and spread upward and down, and then became a door, which opened.

N
INI
M
O SAID THAT
caution makes you careful, but panic is a poison that will kill you. I had plenty of the first and no intention of indulging in the second. My heart was thumping so loudly in my chest that I thought it might pop right out, which would probably be good, because it would save me the pain of being shot.

“It’s about time,” said Udo. “This is outrageous! How dare you keep us waiting! I’ll have you on charges for this.”

A face appeared around the edge of the door, be-speckled and abashed.

“I am so sorry, so sorry, so sorry. It’s just that we had mislaid the key, and then Danbury was asleep, and he’s the only one who can pull the chain up to open the door. He was a pugilist before the Army, and he’s ever so strong—oh, I’m sorry. Advance and Be Recognized.”

“This command is a disgrace.” Udo swept forward as though he actually were a stuck-up staff officer. He left Mouse’s reins dangling, and I dismounted and grabbed them.

Udo said, “Lieutenant, I am on urgent business and I have no time to waste. Come, come, Corporal Ashbury you are dawdling again.” This last, over his shoulder to me.

It is true that Nini Mo said that acting as though you have every right is one of the tricks to getting away with a disguise, but it seemed to me that Udo was not acting as much as overacting. Nonetheless, I hauled after him, towing Bonzo and Mouse behind me.

The portcullis door slammed shut behind Bonzo’s tail with a rather alarming clang.

There’s no way out but through.

Two guards with rifles stood behind the lieutenant, but their muzzles pointed down. In the fluttering lamplight, the lieutenant looked flustered and rumpled. His blouse was buttoned crooked and his hair was mussed. “I do beg your pardon for any perceived laxity, Captain, but also I must beg your pardon that you have not been recognized yet.”

“Take my horse, and Corporal Ashbury’s, too. I am Captain Seneca Gaisford, Judge Advocate General’s Of' fice. Escort me immediately to the Commanding Officer; I have a special order from the Warlord. Will you have me stand here all night?”

“No, of course not, sir. Lieutenant Wills Samson at your service. Do come in, please do.” The lieutenant scraped and bowed and ordered one of the guards to hold the horses. I released the reins reluctantly. It had occurred to me that the horses were in as much danger as Udo and I, and I wished we had left them picketed outside.

We followed Lieutenant Samson through the dank, dark sally port, then into the parade yard beyond. Udo was haranguing the lieutenant for taking so long to let us in, and the lieutenant was parroting apologies. I myself would have told Udo to jump off a log, but that’s the thing about the Army; when someone outranks you and gives you some, you have to take it. The parade yard was lit only by a few dim lamps, but I didn’t need much light to see the ominous shadow of the gallows in the middle of the yard. The open casemates rising above the parade yard looked like black empty eyes.

Lieutenant Samson led us along the covered walkway and into the guardroom. After the outside chill, the guardroom felt warm and cheerful. Happy red and orange firelight spilled from the huge barracks stove. Although the holding cell was empty, two guards sat on a bench against the opposite wall, drinking from tin cups. The door to the Commanding Officer’s ready room was closed.

The lieutenant offered us chairs. “Do please sit down, Captain. Might I get you some coffee? A little nip of something warmer? It’s a long journey from the City; you must be almost frozen. What a night to be out in, what a night. Hendricks, get the Captain and his aide some coffee.”

Coffee sounded wonderful, and I did feel almost frozen, but we couldn’t linger. Udo said dismissively, “Never mind the coffee. As I said, we are in a hurry I have important matters to attend to.” He pulled our forged document from his dispatch case. “Take me to the Commanding Officer. I have a special order signed by the Warlord for the transfer of one of your prisoners to my custody You will get him ready for transport. The Warlord wishes to speak to him immediately.”

The lieutenant rubbed his hands together pleadingly. “Oh dear, oh dear. This is quite strange, oh dear.”

“Are you saying that the Warlord’s orders are strange?” Udo asked in a quiet, dangerous voice.

The lieutenant looked alarmed. “Oh no, oh no, of course not, sir. It’s just that—”

“Just what?” Udo leaned in. His Glamour’s black eyes squinted into angry slits. He looked like someone about ready to cut.

The lieutenant rubbed his hands and yanked on his sleeve buttons. “Let me just present your compliments to Captain Honeychurch, she’s in charge here, and you can give your special order to her. Do please have a seat.”

“I shall stand,” Udo said imperiously.

The lieutenant took the special order from Udo and hurried into the office, closing the door behind him. Udo stood, one hand tucked into his buckler, looking completely unconcerned, and I only hoped that my expression was equally nonchalant.

“I will be filing a report.” Udo said to no one in particular. “A disgrace that a matter of such importance should be handled so carelessly.”

Well, there he was certainly right. We had been left alone with two guards only and the one sitting by the redhot stove looked half asleep. In about three seconds, we could have disarmed them and taken control of the guardroom. Maybe two seconds. They weren’t even armed. Their rifles rested in the rifle rack, which was locked. Of course, the guns Udo and I carried were not loaded; they didn’t know that, and the threat might have been enough. But then we’d still have to find Boy Hansgen, and get the sally port unlocked. Better stick to the plan.

“You there—,” Udo barked, pointing at the guard who was dozing by the fire. He strode across the room and grabbed the man by his collar, shaking him. “Are you asleep on duty? I’ll have you shot!”

“I beg your pardon, sir, I beg your pardon!” The guard shook free of Udo’s grasp and snapped to attention. Udo poked him in the chest with his swagger stick. I had tried hard to talk him out of the swagger stick—hardly any officers carry them anymore, since Mamma banned the impromptu smacking of enlisted soldiers—but Udo insisted it helped him stay in character.

“And your tie is untied and your blouse unbuttoned. I shall make a full report to the Warlord! Consider yourself under arrest as of this minute and report—” Udo raised the swagger stick like he was going to whack.

“Captain Gaisford, sir!” I said frantically, before Udo walloped the poor man and got himself arrested, and then me arrested, and then Boy Hansgen would hang, and that would be it for our plan. “Shall I see what is keeping Lieutenant Samson so long?”

The distraction worked. Udo turned back to me, and the guard sidled as far out of Udo’s reach as he could, then stood at attention as though he were on review.

“I shall find out myself.” Udo strode toward the of' fice door, which luckily opened before he could kick it.

Lieutenant Samson beckoned to Udo. “Captain Honeychurch will see you, sir.”

“I applaud her good judgment,” Udo said, then, as I advanced to follow, “Corporal Ashbury, you may wait.” Not on your life, I thought, and made move to follow. Udo poked me backward with the swagger stick, and I gave him a look that felt as though it should fuse glass but had no effect whatsoever on Udo’s attitude.

“I told you to stay, Corporal Ashbury. I will have you on charges if you don’t fall to.”

I had no recourse but to stare desperately as the door closed behind Lieutenant Samson. Udo alone! We were doomed, doomed, doomed. What could I do? Nothing but hope for Udo’s best, and somehow I could only imagine Udo’s worst. My toes felt as cold as frozen grapes.

I sat on the bench, and the other guard, a small woman with gray-streaked hair, brought me coffee. “Those bosses. They are fresh. Here, this’ll cheer you. I’m Hendricks, and that’s Jam over there.”

“Thank you,” I said.

The coffee was hot, and as sweet as syrup, and it tasted like heaven. But the caffeine swelled up awful fantasies in my now-jittery brain. My eyes fixed upon the door, my imagination fired with dire possibilities: Udo threatening Captain Honeychurch with the swagger stick, poking or pointing, or perhaps even whacking. Udo can get carried away; that’s exactly what led to Gun-Britt’s broken nose, Udo not knowing when to stop. I should have held firm on that blasted swagger stick. Perhaps I should go interrupt them, with some excuse—

“A sloggy night to be out. And a sloggy night to die,” Hendricks said. “Bad enough to end on the rope, but on a cold wet night as this, what’s worse?”

“I can think of worse ways to go,” Jam said. “There’s always worse ways to go.”

“You with the Dandies?” Hendricks asked me.

Mamma’s regiment is the Enthusiastics, so why she had Dandy hat-brass in her insignia-box was a mystery, but it worked out well for our plan. The Dandy Regiment is currently stationed on the Trinity Line, so there was no fear of running into any other Dandies.

“Ayah so.” The door remained closed. Udo, oh Udo, don’t be a prat or a fool or a twit. Oh please, Udo, please.

“I thought they were up north,” Hendricks said.

“Ayah, I’m on detach. Medical leave, but now I’m better and was supposed to report to my regiment, but I got stuck on this detail—” I could hear the sound of Udo’s voice, but not his words. Any minute that door was going to open to eject a furious officer and we would be All Done.

Jam said, “I pity you, that officer of yours is a right twit. He could use a good fragging. I’d like to punt that swagger stick right up—”

The office door opened and here came Udo, the lieutenant, and behind them, another officer dressed in sangyn: a Skinner! In my tum, my coffee began to burn. Of all the people for Udo to get uppity with! Only one regiment in the Army is allowed to wear crimson uniforms instead of the ordinary black and gold: the Alacrán Regiment. They are nicknamed the Skinners because of their habit of marking their kills with scalps. They are the Army’s oldest and most decorated regiment, but they have a ferocious reputation for being arrogant and bloody-minded—and ruthless cold-blooded killers.

Poppy is a Skinner, and that, no doubt, is part of his problem.

A Skinner is not someone to be messed with, but Udo had not toned his high attitude down. If anything, he had nudged it up a touch.

“Well, now, I am glad to see that you understand your duty so clearly, sir,” Udo was saying to Captain Honeychurch. “And attend to it so promptly.”

Where the Skinner’s left eye should have been was a blackened pit. Each cheek was marred by a slashing mark: the zigzag scars that all Skinners get when they swear their Regimental Oath. It’s a mark of courage, supposedly, to stand firm while someone slashes at your face with a sabre. I think it’s more a mark of foolishness.

“I follow the Warlord’s orders,” the Skinner said.

“As do we all, though some of us do so with more alacrity. I want you to know, Captain Honeychurch, that I’ll be making a note of the condition of your guard to the Warlord—”

Captain Honeychurch interrupted him: “Lieutenant Samson, take the guards and retrieve the prisoner.”

The relief that flooded through me was so huge that for a moment I thought I might slide boneless to the floor. Udo had not gotten us killed; we were almost home, we were going to pull it off, bless the Goddess now and forevermore.

“Attend, Corporal Ashbury!” Udo ordered, and I jumped to obey.

Lieutenant Samson nodded to the two guards, then unlocked the rifle rack so they could take their weapons. Private Hendricks picked up a lantern and lit it with a trigger. I followed them out of the warm guardroom into the icy cold night. Back along the covered walkway, across the sally port, and into a small dank room beyond, empty but for a clutter of open barrels and cracker boxes. Beyond that, yet another dank room, completely empty.