Land of Verne (5 page)

Later, as Treena stood off to the side Rudy walked over to the girl. And Grim, determined not to miss out on any important information, followed.

Rudy looked at him as he walked beside her. “Where are you going?”

Grim smiled. “To see Treena.”

Rudy frowned. “She’s a girl you know.”

“Duh.”

Rudy sped up. Grim kept pace.

Before either of them could speak, Treena was already bursting forth with her speedy tongue. “I’m so excited we’re going to the City of Harkness!” she exclaimed. She now wore a purple dress that matched her spiky hair. Surprisingly, Aunt Patrice had not pounced on the girl with a brush after all.

The three of them strolled about the mechanical carriages that made up the camp, some of which unfolded into trailer-like living quarters. Ravens sat upon them, watching. Two of them had coiled springs for legs.

“Tell me about your world,” Treena said. “What is it like?”

“Our world seems very different from this one,” Grim muttered as he gazed about, “but some of the animals are sort of the same. It’s kinda hard to explain.” He paused as he looked to the snow-capped mountain in the distance. “What powers those airships? And how do those cities float?”

“Absinth,” Treena said.

“Huh?”

The girl shrugged. “It powers everything, but it’s hard to get.” Her fingers and thumb rubbed together. “Very expensive.”

Rudy’s face pinched. “Bummer. I thought it might be magic.”

Treena shook her head. “Oh, no. Magic is nearly gone.”

“You mean you
do
have magic in this world?” Rudy asked. Her face seemed to light back up.

“Well, there’s a traveling show that performs illusions, but it’s not really magic. They use absinth to power devices to make it look like magic.”

They were interrupted as Dad approached.

Treena curtsied.

“Hello, Treena,” he said. “I hope you three have been getting well acquainted, but it’s time to turn in for the night. Tomorrow is a big day.”

“But she was telling us about magic,” Rudy protested.

“Come along,” Dad insisted.

Rudy sighed. “See you tomorrow, Treena.”

Grim looked to the floating cities once more. “Have a good night,” he added and they allowed Dad to lead them back to the tents.

Many restless hours later, and after much reflection, Grim still lay awake on a strangely comfortable cot that had unfolded itself with the flick of a switch. He had played with it about ten times, watching it unfold and fold up again, fascinated with how it worked. There was a clear ball attached to it that held a green liquid that seemed to undulate inside the glass. He guessed it was what powered the bed.

Rudy avoided hers as much as possible until she was forced to finally creep into it.

“Don’t worry,” he said to her. “It won’t eat you.”

She didn’t look convinced.

Grim stared at the roof of the tent for a while. A dying fire still burned outside, its faint light flickering through the entrance flap. The sounds of snoring and shifting bodies didn’t help him to fall asleep, but the occasional metallic whistle or hiss that seemed to go off at pretty regular intervals was sort of soothing.

He looked over at the others. They were all asleep, except for Rudy. She was tugging at her pigtails, a sign of her thinking.

 All kinds of thoughts flowed through Grim’s head.

What would their Manor look like? How could cities float? Would he like living in this world? What would this orphanage be like?

And most importantly, because it would drive him up the wall if it actually happened:
Would Rudy order him around once she was head of the Manor?

Chapter 5

Grim woke to a ruckus ― it was almost like trying to sleep in Poppa’s workshop; whistles, clunking, clattering, and grinding.

The sun had only just risen, yet the rest of the camp sounded as if they had been up and about for some time. Certainly not something he had come to expect first thing in the morning, or at least, not from someone other than the twins.

Rudy groaned as she rolled over on her bed, careful not to agitate it. She exited it with care.

As she stepped out, it folded itself up behind her; a little too eagerly.

Grim chuckled and bounced on his own before leaping out of it.

Ellen and Sam were just waking and the twins were already outside. Grim yawned and peered out, wondering where they would shower or bathe. And also of what he would wear. From the stares he garnered the day before he knew he’d need a change in clothing. None of them fit in.

As if on cue, a young woman entered with an armful of clothes with the twins following behind. She wore a short dress with tights and a little lacy hat. Rudy looked aghast and Grim knew what she was thinking. He’d laugh until his stomach hurt if Rudy had to wear that.

“Hello,” Grim said.

The woman remained silent, curtsied and placed a bundle out for each of them. Then she departed as promptly as she entered. Grim eyed the odd garments and wondered how to put them on. It didn’t take long.

They all changed quickly, examining themselves in the mirror that automatically adjusted its height to suit the viewer. Grim twisted and turned, trying to see how things fit. The long jacket wasn’t completely hideous and the metallic vest was pretty cool. It came with goggles and some comfortable boots. It even included a leather sash and a belt with some pouches. Rudy’s was almost identical, if not a little more feminine looking.

He eyed her and she eyed him. Neither made a remark.

Then the two of them saw to the younger ones. Ellen had a long, black dress with frills that went right up to her neck. It cinched at the waist with a bow.

“Tighter!” she said.

Grim yanked on it until the she finally said, “Good.”

Can she even breathe in that?

Sam’s outfit was a match for Grim’s. And the twins each had identical loose pants, red suits with leather vests and top hats.

Out into the morning they strode and Grim searched for their parents. They conversed with Treena’s father again, and pointed towards the same mountains upon which the Manor stood. When they saw the children coming, their conversation ended rather abruptly. Grim hated when adults did that.

It took less than an hour to pack the entire camp since most of it seemed to get done on its own. Rudy stood well back from the contraptions that folded and packed themselves. Grim and Sam crawled on top of most of them as they were folding up, intrigued with how they worked.

From what Grim could decipher, the carriages seemed to be powered by absinth, or sinth as most called it. And since the sinth-powered carriages were mostly full, Grim and the others would be riding horses. He didn’t mind. It beat walking, and the horse was wearing goggles.

It took some time to get comfortable riding the horse since it was something Grim had never done before. And with Sam sitting in the saddle in front of him, it was even more difficult. By the time he felt like he was getting the hang of it, they entered a forest valley that funneled them between two mountain ranges; those of Mount Simeon on the right, where the Manor with the floating cities was situated, and the Hawshorn Mountains on the left. The path was narrow and the forest was heavy with shrubs and underbrush that made the travel all the more challenging. Yet the troupe pressed onwards in the hopes of getting to the other side before nightfall.

Come early evening, they passed into the shadow of the Hawshorn Mountains and Grim had a suspicion they wouldn’t make it to the other side before they were shrouded in complete darkness. And he didn’t like the feeling he sensed of the forest here either. Something just seemed off.

He needed a distraction and leaned over to Treena. “So what can you tell me about sinth?” he asked.

Treena struggled to remain upright. “Can’t talk. Have to focus.” Then she nearly tumbled from the saddle and gripped the reins.

“You will understand soon enough,” interrupted Aunt Patrice as she rode up beside them. Her hair was dark, almost black, and tied up in a bun. There was a hideous mole on her nose, which was crooked and larger than usual. She still dressed the same, choking collar and all. Grim had been told this was how his Aunt would look while in disguise and as he looked her over, he thought it was a pretty good one. It cut her age in half even though her voice had changed to a high-pitched squealing that made him shudder.

“Yes, you will learn many things soon enough, my dear.” She eyed Grim with that singular eyeball she was known for, but this time it made Grim feel like his Aunt was sizing him up for the boiling pot rather than studying him. Then the old woman grunted and rode off towards the front of the group. Grim considered sticking his tongue out at her, but thought better of it. The old hag would likely notice.

Grim adjusted his position in the saddle as Dad studied the mountains to the west of them.

“We’re not going to see you very often, are we?” Grim asked.

Dad hesitated as he narrowed his eyes, still staring into the woods. “No. We’ll make arrangements to visit when we can… excuse me,” he said, and spurred his horse to the front of the line.

Grim tried to catch where Dad was riding to with such urgency when a horn sounded on the air. Grim looked to both Rudy and Treena, and the latter girl’s eyes were like full moons. Her hands paled as she gripped the reins and she looked about in fright. A mechanized squealing echoed through the trees.

The party scrambled.

Armed men and women ran up and down the outer rim, searching the forest. Then they gathered at the western edge as an oncoming tide of creatures weaved between the trees and skittered along the ground. Grim strained to see through the gunslingers and archers that blocked his view. He caught fleeting glances of robotic limbs and half-human faces. They each had one arm with a pincer-like hand and another mounted with a huge blaster. Their movements were fluid and quick through the trees and he could hear their legs flex and relax, like coiled springs.

“Mechs,” Treena breathed. “Slaves of the Syndrone.”

“Armor!” yelled Treena’s dad.

The gunslingers pressed a button on their vests. On each of them a suit of armor unfolded and enveloped them. They aimed their blasters.

Aunt Patrice led the gunslingers and faced the Mechs. The woman was flicking switches on her rod with her thumb while wielding a small blaster in her other hand. She shot off a blast of black gunk that struck one of the Mechs full in the chest. The goo splattered and began to grow, rusting the metal shell of the creature. It spread fast and the Mech dropped to the ground.

 The Gunslingers followed her lead, blasting the same substance into the oncoming horde of metal. More dropped, but then the Mechs gathered and began flipping switches on each other’s backs. When they began to advance again, the tar-like substance bounced off them. They pressed forward in swarms.

Again, Aunt Patrice pressed buttons and triggers and then shot off another blast; this one a streak of white light that, once it struck, seemed to shock the Mechs. They dropped like stones. And yet again, the creatures tinkered with each other’s gears and were immune to the attacks.

And then they were upon them.

Their pincer-like arms clicked and hissed and changed to swords. They clashed with the rifles of the gunslingers and Aunt Patrice’s rod. She flipped a switch and it produced a metal shield to protect her from the parries of the Mechs. And Grim’s mouth dropped open as the old woman fought like she was the most agile of warriors, using a sinth-powered dagger to fight back.

From the north a shriek sounded, so piercing Grim had to cover his ears. But he could see nothing that caused it. Men started falling under an unseen force that swept through the trees.

“Goggles!” screamed Treena’s father as he ran in that direction.

Grim pulled his own over his eyes and gasped as a horde of twisted, lithe monsters with elongated limbs and fanged mouths bounded through the forest. Their claw-like fingers ripped the bark from the trees as they leapt from one to the other.

“Banshees!” someone screamed.

The Banshees were upon the archers at the northern flank before the men were ready. They took out four men in a single heart’s beat, leaving them convulsing in pain. The Banshees swiped at anything in their path and Treena’s father shoved past crowds to defend against the onslaught. His bulky sword swung, swift and deliberate. Treena sucked in her breath. Her hands were shaking in panic.

Grim leaned over. “Don’t worry. The others will help him.”

Treena looked at him. There was a blank look on her face and then she seemed to focus on Grim.  She stopped shaking.

“Yes, yes!” she said. “Help! I can help him!”

Treena slid off the horse with care and pulled out a small, round pocket mirror.

She unfolded it and muttered a single word to it. “Pyra.”

Something appeared next to Treena, a girl of flaming hair and body. It felt as if Grim stood next to a furnace.

Treena pointed to her father. The flaming girl nodded and then reappeared next to him. She touched his sword and it was immediately ablaze. The man paused and looked to his daughter. He smiled and then returned to the fight, his movements even more vigorous than before. The flaming sword cut through the swarm of Banshees and they scrambled from its flaming touch.