Chapter 18

It was like my day started all over again. In a flurry of hands and skirts, I found myself re-dressed in fuzzy brown skirts and a close cut leather jacket with a bronze scarf. They scrubbed my neck, pinned my hair up, and stopped just short of powdering my face. Pilosa thought it would spoil my natural innocence, so instead they rubbed some rouge into my cheeks before lacing those obnoxious shoes back onto my feet.

In a short breath-span when Pilosa vanished to summon our transportation, I suddenly found Crane at my side. She pushed a tightly wrapped bundle into my hands. It was a dangler, just like hers, only with far fewer accoutrements. This just had a whistle, mirror, and knife.

“I trust you have the discretion to know what these are for and when to use them. Mind yourself,” her eyes never left my face as she clipped one of the chains to my waistband and tucked the items into a pocket on my leather jacket.

Then Pilosa was back, and we were out the door and loaded into a two person elk-hansom, much like what I’d seen running around the circus. I looked about curiously for a driver, but Pilosa was the one who held the reins.

“I’m sure riding elk around New Castle is a stunning adventure, darling,” she drawled, “But if you’re going to make a scene in New Castle, you learn to drive your own elk. Thane, hyup!”

With a short bark, Pilosa snapped the reins and Thane leapt forward. We tore out of the front gate. Crane might have raised a hand in a baleful salute, but she was gone in a blink. It was only a moment before we were racing up the lamp-lit boulevard to who knew where. I gripped the seat with both hands, wishing it were the safe back of an elk instead of some rickety trap dragged behind it. Pilosa glanced over and laughed when she saw my wide eyes and bared teeth.

“I know! Isn’t it fantastic, dear?!” Suddenly, she pushed the reins into my hands. “Here! Show Mumsy what you learned today!”

I yelped and tried to push the reins back as we veered from the road. A few unlucky cogs shouted as they flung themselves out of the way.

“Elks can’t run up walls!” I shrieked, yanking back towards the road. Thane bellowed and corrected his run. Pilosa laughed the whole way down the road then finally took the reins back as we reached a wall gate.

“Don’t be so heavy handed, Loris. It hurts Thane’s mouth,” She pulled Thane up and pulled out a small compact mirror, taking a second to check herself before applying more rouge to her lips. “Let Mumsy do the talking here. Right? Good.”

I sat quietly as Pilosa trotted Thane up to the gates, singing a hello to the guards posted. I thought she would make some excuse to sneak by, but no, she made a big deal about introducing me, her long-lost daughter to the guards, Aaron and Laurel, yet more names I would be expected to remember. She then had to catch up with them about their families and what had been happening in the lanes of Ward 1, 2, 3 and so many others. Apparently, not only do the Regulars possess the best military skills, they also keep the best gossip. After a few minutes of trying to pay attention to the conversation, my attention drifted.

Across the street one of the lamps had been missed by the lamplighters. It stood dark, an oddity in New Castle’s flawless illumination. I thought that was rather sloppy for such a simple job. It made the street just in front of it quite dark. The row houses still provided plenty of light, but still, should another lamp go out- just then another street light went out. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and I half stood to get a better look. Just a few paces down from the extinguished light, I thought I saw a shabby form scuttle away. They were trying to stay in the shadows, but they made the mistake of glancing back over their shoulder just once to see if they had been observed. Something gleamed over the lower half of their face.

“Well, someone is getting antsy, so we had best go. Catch you lovelies later!” Pilosa trilled then snapped the reins. “Wave bye-bye, Loris.”

I raised my hand but more to point to the two streetlights that had been put out. The two regulars smiled and raised their hands back, completely missing my gesture. Were they not concerned about Glitches as well? It occurred to me that might be something only Tabby and her crew knew about. I lowered my hand and decided to bring it up next time I saw her. Something else occurred to me.

“Loris thought Wardensans had to have paperwork to move from ward to ward. Why did those sentries let Pilosa-Mumsy by?”

Pilosa snorted, “As if any ward could hold Pilosa Applewite.” She reached over and pinched my leg above the knee, making me jump. She laughed, “Elk bite! Oh my little Loris. Don’t worry. Aaron and Laurel weren’t being careless. They’re some of the top Rams out there. I suppose they’ll explain it to you eventually, but your Mumsy is not actually a Wardensan. Your dear papa was. And just to make it absolutely clear, your Uncle Cebis and Aunt Silvia are not Wardensans either. Since my family is in Ward 3, I get open access, and you as my scion get to come with me.”

I thought about the many back doors and sky-ways that crossed the city. It suddenly seemed very absurd to me that anyone stayed put in their ward at all. My thoughts didn’t go much further than that as we turned onto the main thoroughfare through Ward 3. I had seen its shops and backstreets during the day. I was very glad to see it now at night.

The lamps in Ward 1 were purely functional, and though stately in their bronze sentry along the street, they did little more than cast a pool of yellowish-green light just far enough to skip to the next lamp post light.

In brilliant contrast, Ward 3 at night everything was art, and everything glowed. The lamp posts themselves resembled everything from trees to dancing figures barely clad, to long-necked birds dangling their lamps on a chain. Some clever craftsman had added colored glass to some of the globes, so along with clean white lights rimming the buildings, there were blues, reds, and greens flickering on the glistening street. As we trotted along, one of the tiny, white, building lights burst in a short shower of glass and fire. I squeaked in alarm, but Pilosa just snorted and waved as the building’s resident shook their head and climbed up the side of the building to stomp out the flames and screw a new glass bulb in place.

All along the streets music sang seemingly from every door and window. People conversed and strolled along, arm in arm, but the pace here moved to a slower beat. There wasn’t as much order as Ward 1 either. People would just stop in the middle of the walk occasionally and twirl. At one point, a group had gathered in a circle around a trio of couples who twirled in a blur then suddenly all the women leapt into the air and flew above the crowds helped by a well-timed boost from their partners. I was so busy watching the performers that I didn’t see our location at the end of the street until Pilosa nudged me.

“That, my dear Loris, is the Tilted Windmill, the heart of the Ward of Devoted Arts,” She squeezed my hand, and for a second I was afraid she’d pass me the reins again. “The crafters may have their universities and the Seconds their academies, but those devoted to the arts of joy in the school of life have the ‘Milli Lights’.”

I had no idea what she meant, but if the Tilted Windmill was a place to learn about life, then it certainly was the most decorated and elaborate establishment I had seen yet. The building was as tall as any manor around, at least 3 stories tall. I was surprised I hadn’t spotted it while on top of the roofs. Built like one of the towers along the outer wall, it was a mix of wood and stone construction that had been gilt and strung with gas lights from top to bottom. The oddest accoutrements that I could not figure out were four, giant, slow-turning paddles attached to the top floor just below the roof. The most alarming aspect, one which seemed to not bother anyone else bustling in or out its front door, was the fact that all three stories looked to be leaning to the right side. This meant the pivoting paddles swung low over the heads of the pedestrians in the street. I would recommend anyone passing under its arms on an elk to duck and remain cautious.

Once we arrived, it didn’t take Pilosa long to hand off Thane’s reins to a young girl wearing a red sash. There seemed to be several children standing about for the express purpose of walking off with people’s elks. The idea made me nervous, considering what Tabby had said about the worth of the fantastic beasts, but Pilosa just laughed and tipped the girl a bronze coin.

Two well-dressed attendants in blacks and striped ties pulled open the doors for us as soon as we approached. Pilosa didn’t bat an eye and swept in like the matriarch of a village. I followed watchfully in her footsteps. Inside was an absolute madhouse.

I thought the walls on the inside might lean as well to match the exterior. They did, but they leaned the other way. My sense of balance reeled as I followed her into an enormous oak paneled hall full of tables, dancers, and a stage with a red curtain with gold fringe at the end. The ceiling went up all three stories with balconies of looker-ons for each. Any surface that could have light or color added to it, did. Suddenly, there was a shriek from across the hall. A man with a preposterous mustache,like a squirrel clinging to his upper lip, wearing a bright purple, striped suit with ridiculous tails leapt off the stage and ran across the hall, arms in the air the whole way.

“Pilosa Forsythe! You Tart!”

I didn’t know what kind of an attack this was, but I fumbled in my coat for the knife Crane had given me. Pilosa just rolled her eyes and threw open her arms.

“Passeri! You insufferable pompous ass! How are you, dahling?”

I thought they would collide, but just short the purple Passeri wiggled his fingers above his head. Pilosa giggled, and the two engaged in the strangest hand shake I had ever seen. They twirled around for a few seconds, and then Passeri spun Pilosa like a dancer before dipping her backwards over his arm, one of her legs kicking up like a flag behind his shoulder. Upside down and grinning like an idiot, Pilosa remembered me. She extended an arm in my direction.

“Oh! Passeri dear. This is my daughter, Loris Forsythe.”

Passeri’s mustache twitched as he pulled Pilosa back on her feet then offered his hand to me. I stared at the outstretched hand until Pilosa coughed quietly. What was it about Castelians catching a cold in every social situation?

“Loris does not twirl,” I said, but by way of compromise put my hand in his.

Passeri had a loud, booming laugh, but he did not twirl me.

“The Loris does not twirl? Oh but she may yet! A pleasure to meet you, my niece, I’m your Uncle Passeri.”

I looked back at Pilosa.

“Another uncle? How many does Loris have?”

Pilosa shrugged and hooked her arm through Uncle Passeri’s after he let go of my hand.

“We’re not entirely sure. Pappy Applewite was a very prolific artist. Between bunnies and babies, you may be related to half of Ward 3.”

My head swam. I had that many relatives?! No, that was only if I proved to actually be related to Pilosa and Bentley. I wasn’t sure what other reason the Forsythes would have to claim me, but then I thought about the Roadies and their pride in large families. They were very cautious, however, about knowing who was whose parent. Too many family to family breedings produced weak stock, they said. That’s why givernings were so important. New blood always held the potential for increase. Were the Castelians so confident in their families they didn’t even keep track? Maybe that’s what I really was, fresh blood.

Pilosa took my silence as concern and pulled me close in a hug.

“Don’t you worry, dear! There is only one Loris, and you will always be the most special to me.”

I scratched the back of my head, uncertain how to respond. Passeri nudged Pilosa.

“I think you’ll need to convince her dear.”

Pilosa threw her head back and laughed.

“Oh no, I couldn’t, Passeri. It’s been ages! And besides I’m here to show Loris how to have a good time.”

Passeri wiggled his eyebrows at her. I had to agree. It was obvious that whatever it was, Pilosa wanted to do it.

“Come now, dear,” Passeri tushed, “it would be a crime for you to come all this way and not give the Scrips something to buzz about. And besides, I think young Loris would rather enjoy it. Don’t you?”

Pilosa wrinkled her nose and looked at me.

“He does make a good point, doesn’t he?”

I shrugged, and Pilosa took that as agreement. She giggled and grabbed my hand, dragging me through the tables to one up front, right next to the stage. I looked around, uncomfortably aware of all the other curious onlookers staring at us. Pilosa squeezed my hands, gave a wink, and then trotted on stage. I looked for Uncle Passeri. He was finishing a conversation with one of the red-sashed children from out front, who looked the direction of the stage with an astonished look, before darting out the front door. Passeri clapped his hands, and suddenly the lights everywhere but the stage went dark. A single beam shot from the second floor, flooding Pilosa, now perched on a velvet swing suspended from the ceiling by gold ropes, in a pool of golden light. In her gold and black dress, I had to admit, she looked absolutely stunning, like some exotic bird. When the first notes of a violin drifted out from behind the red curtain, the voice my mother sang with was absolutely magical.

I’m gonna do all the things for you

A girl wants her mom to do

Oh, baby

I’ll sacrifice for you

I’d even do wrong for you

Oh, baby

Pilosa winked at me from the stage as she kicked her heels up swinging a lazy arc from one end of the stage to the other. The table next to me went crazy, squealing and clapping their hands together so loudly I could barely hear the song any more.

“Oh my stars! I can’t believe the Swing Siren came back tonight to sing!” A corseted, feather-hatted woman at the next table fanned herself furiously. “Dee Anna is going to absolutely die!”

Her gentleman companion gave a hearty ‘here here’ in agreement, then adjusted the lenses on his nose as Pilosa swung back to our side of the stage, bending backwards off the swing to tousle my hair.

“Yes, and I do love this arrangement,” the man said, leaning forward even further. “Just wait until the bass drops!”

I didn’t understand exactly what he meant until Pilosa hit the chorus, and the red curtain behind her opened up to reveal the rest of the band that joined in with a bone-shaking horn and drum accompaniment.

Every minute, every hour

I’m gonna shower you

With love and affection

Look out! It’s coming in your direction

And I’m-I’m gonna make you love me!

Oh yes, I will

Yes, I will

I’m gonna make you love me

Oh yes, I will

Yes, I will

I was mesmerized. Every gesture, every glance, every word went straight to my heart. I’m not even sure why I looked away. I guess I wanted to know if anyone else was seeing this. Did they realize she was singing for me? Just for me, a miserable little spit one day, but now-As I gazed around the room, I realized every other person there was staring with open admiration at my mother. Something warm fluttered in my chest. Then, at the edge of the crowd just next to a pillar, I saw a young woman with a long braid, gray as elk fur, lean over to her companion and say something.

“She’s not that good.”

The warm feeling left immediately. I stared. Her face was familiar. Something about her made me think of elk. More importantly, how dare she not love Pilosa!

I stared harder, trying to catch her eye so I could try out that steely look of disapproval Crane had perfected.

“Oh come on Benni, she’s sitting on a flipping bench! How hard can it be? It’s not like buck breaking. You want a real challenge; I’d love to see her look so regal and prissy on the back of a green buck.”

Thinking little otherwise, I slipped out of my seat and slipped quietly around the edge of the room. Everyone was so focused on Pilosa, besides a few annoyed hisses when I blocked their view, no one minded me as I slipped up on elk girl.

“I dunno, Giada. I’ve never heard the Supremes remixed to a double-step. Even if it was pre-rehearsed, you have to admit her vocal reverbs are stunning,” the shorter, curly haired-girl accompanying elk-girl Giada seemed to have some taste. When Giada tossed her hair in the air and whipped around for the staircase heading for the second floor, I suddenly remembered where I’d seen her before.

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“Doesn’t matter, Benni. Pilosa and her brother can beat-box all day for all I care. The real joy-makers are the established families who have been long unacknowledged for their contributions to d’esprit Glorianna, without whom the city might as well be naked.”

The curly headed girl laughed, “Might as well be naked? Oh ho, I wonder what dashing Wardensan I’ve heard that from before. So that is the reason you dragged me out of the stables instead of Encabel? Was there someone in particular you were hoping to catch a glimpse of this evening?”

I paused halfway up the stairs behind them. I thought I had recognized Giada from my carriage ride into the city. My one glimpse of her calming the elk buck hadn’t been enough to tell me who she really was. Giada protested but stood at the railing of the second floor overlooking the stage.

Pilosa and Passeri were finishing the song together, Pilosa literally flying circles around him. I felt a momentary pang of irritation that Pilosa had not seemed to notice I was missing. The song ended to thunderous applause. Pilosa blew kisses to the audience and sauntered off stage only to be immediately surrounded by dozens of admirers all wanting to speak with her.

I looked back at Giada. It all seemed very silly now to be cross at her, but she had provoked me to leave my seat. I watched her braid twitch back and forth as her head swung one way then another, looking for someone. Still, perhaps some small retribution was in order. My hand reached for it of its own accord. Then someone else’s hand covered mine.

“Gently, small paws, I don’t know if Miss Byron will appreciate you playing in her tangled locks.”

Both Giada and I whirled around at the same time. A young man, with blue and gold paint around his eyes and dressed in a fantastic blue overcoat that had what looked like gold fiddleheads all over it, stepped back and gave a short bow. He smiled and tipped a silky brown hat at us. Giada sputtered and seemed at a loss for words. It took me a moment, but the raised hat and that wide smile put the pieces together for me.

“You’re Trochi Jenkins, from Ward 7,” I stated.

Trochi raised an eyebrow. It glittered.

“Indeed, I am Wardensan Trochi. Have we met before, small paws?”

I pondered.

“I saw you from my carriage as I rode into the city. You were playing at hammers and balls with your family. You were wearing a white bird mask then, but I recognize you from your teeth. Your smile is distinct.”

Both Benni and Trochi burst into laughter as Giada and I exchanged uncomfortable glances. I looked to Giada to reprimand them. She was older than I was after all. As a near matriarch, she should have issued a much sterner rebuke. Instead, Trochi wiped a glittering eye, pulled off his hat and peered into the bottom of it before daubing his face a few more times and replacing it on his head.

“Ladies, small paws, I apologize. You have most unexpectedly caught me, well, not expecting such charming company. I beseech you; will you join me and my Crew in our private box?”

I hesitated. Pilosa hadn’t noticed I was missing yet, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t eventually. Considering the mornings I had chosen to sleep under the bed instead of in it, I wasn’t sure what she would do if I wasn’t still at the table she’d placed me at when she did finally notice.

“Loris is supposed to be downstairs at the table, waiting for Mumsy. Loris-I- I’m not sure-“

“Yes!” Suddenly, Giada was by my side, an unwelcome hand on my shoulder. “We-it-I would love a chance to accompany you to-that is-we accept your invitation.”

I looked up at her.

“We do?”

I had not seen such a look since Shrike gassed me into submission the first morning I met her. Whatever turned it on, Giada had no problem imposing the full force of her position now that it was obvious she very much wanted to join Trochi in his quarters.

“Fine. But if everything goes stinky, it is Giada’s responsibility to get Loris home again safe,” I grumbled.

Giada nodded curtly.

“Of course. You have my full protection-“ here she hesitated as though something occurred to her. “You call yourself ‘Loris’? Why do you refer to yourself in the third person? Is this some new trope the RCFers have discovered? What did you say your family name was?”

Trochi suddenly leapt in, waving his arms and shushing us.

“A game! A game! Don’t spoil it, oh fierce Giada! Come come come! Into my box!” he winked at me. “And don’t spoil anything.”

He ushered us down the hall to a very beaten looking wooden door that just had a single plate of brass on it. I squinted at the words. Again with the strange squiggles. Trochi knocked a jaunty little rhythm on the door before there was a click. The plate swung aside for a second and a pair of eyes rimmed in green looked out.

Trochi tipped his hat, “Get bent you sodding louse.”

There was an affirmative grunt, “Good to see ya, Troch. The Kicks are, well… Kicking our-“

“Tsh tsh tsh,” Trochi gestured towards Giada, Benni, and myself. “We have company. I’m vouching of course.”

Purple eyes rolled but then vanished again behind the brass plate before the door clicked open.

“Welcome back, Trochus Badochus. Ladies? Welcome to La Kahj.”

I wasn’t sure what I wasn’t supposed to spoil, so upon entering the room I stood very uncomfortably just behind Giada looking about.

Whereas the room at the White Tree Inn where Tabby and her Crew gathered had been relatively clean but comfortable with its wood table and padded benches, this room reminded me of our drawing room all over again. Every wall was covered with various trophies and trinkets. The chairs, though their fabrics looked quite busy and expensive, were also worn with numerous patches and stains. In contrast to the careworn rooms of furniture in the Forsythe house that stood with a quiet accord, this furniture, though bright and interesting to look at, seemed quite thrown together. In short, it was a mess.

I found myself staring at a tall, brown chair with fuzzy lines all over it then back at Trochi. Somehow I could not resolve the two. Then I realized people just as odd-ended as the furniture were actually draped across them, cards in hand and several colorful bottles being passed between them. A pair paused at the back, feathered darts in their hands, several more darts lodged in the floral paper on the wall and in a particular painting of a staunch looking patriarch. Trochi sauntered into their midst, barely stepping across a pile engaged in arm wrestling while chugging pints of something, to collapse in a large, tawny, wing-back chair, very plain by contrast.

“Look here you rotters!” He grinned and purposely kicked over one of the bottles to much protest. “I’ve brought us some guests. Slick up!”

A dozen and a half bored stares flitted over to us then after a moment, one of the girls lounging on a sofa pointed and announced in a loud voice.

“I say! You’re Giada Byron of Fourth ward, aren’t you?”

Giada nodded and moved forward briskly to offer an outstretched hand.

“I am. A pleasure to-“

“Point to Kick Mob!” sofa girl giggled and clapped her hands. She had spirals of hair that looked like great golden coils running down the side of her head.

An older boy next to her rolled his eyes. “What? The White Queen let you off your lead?“

“Point to Punch Mob,” Trochi announced quietly.

“Or maybe not? Sent you along with a hand? Getting a bit of fresh air? No, she’s on the pull, boys! Look out!” another girl with red gem-like dots around her eyes shrieked.

“Point to Kick Mob,” the girl on the sofa said, smiling at Trochi. “Two one.”

Giada froze. I could see her neck muscles twitched.

“I beg your pardon? And you are?”

I’ll give her credit. From the ripple along her forearms and upper arms, I’m pretty sure Giada was not up to begging anyone’s pardon. I couldn’t honestly say why she didn’t reprimand this stranger who dared to insult her at their first greeting. But I was beginning to understand, through coughs and long, meaningful stares, that Castelians put a good deal more faith in what they could do to each other in words rather than out and out beating them. Such a bother.

The girl didn’t bother answering but tossed her golden locks and rolled her eyes at Trochi.

“Trooooooooooo-keeeeeeeee, you promised not to bring any more boring people into the Sanctum.”

Trochi sat, one leg dangling over an arm of the chair, one hand over his mouth as though trying to suppress a laugh.

“Now Justice, haven’t I always told you it was your impatience that leads to making bad judgements? First it was the chemise, then plaid, and now? What are these? Cooling coils in your hair?”

One of the boys with streaks of paint on his face snickered, “Punch Point, two.”

“Don’t be so fast-trashy,” Trochi waved his hand. “Now scoot your double-wide over and make room for our guests.”

There was some ‘Ooooing’ and ‘Punch point three’ as the spiral hair girl, Justice, glowered at the boys on the floor then at Giada respectively. So far I had managed to go unnoticed.

Justice made a loud and visible show of shoving herself off the couch and onto the floor as Giada, Benni, and I shuffled uncomfortably over. I opted for sitting on one of the arms of the couch, closer to the door and with my feet still touching the floor. Trochi nodded.

“Lady Giada and companion, my dear small paws, please allow me to make introductions and apologies for my reprobate Crew, Justice, Mercy, Faith, Gracie, Charity, and Fideo Jinkins accompanied by their respective plus ones for the evening.”

“Ah, very nice to meet you Wardensans Jenkins,” Giada gave a cursory head bob. Benni did the same.

“Jinkins.” One of the girls, a scrawny little thing with straw hair corrected from another chair.

“I said Jenkins,” Giada smiled tightly.

“Jinkins,”chimed in two more siblings.

“Not Jenkins?” Giada looked truly lost.

“Jinkins!” all but Trochi enunciated firmly. Trochi spread his hands and shrugged then looked at me.

“Yes, Jinkins. But, my fair siblings, can you guess who I’ve brought you?”

The eyes in the room stared at Giada and Benni then swiveled to look at me. I found myself suddenly smoothing imaginary wrinkles on my jacket. It was Justine again who snorted and shrugged.

“Some little waif from Ward 7? Let me guess, a bunny with no name but seems to have an incredible talent for design?” She did a slow down-to-up look over me, taking the time to pick an apple up from a bowl just in arm’s reach and bite into it, never breaking eye contact. “I take it back. Judging from the crayon scribbles around her eyes, she has no style sense whatsoever.”

A little juice escaped the corner of her mouth as one of the girls tallied, “Kick three.”

Justice took her time daubing the dribble with a colorful handkerchief pulled from her blouse. “Trochi, you really have to stop trying to impress us with your foundlings. Weirder is not better. Oh, don’t do that dear. They’re atrocious enough to look at without your smudging them.”

I had not realized that my hands had actually crept up to the tattoos under my eyes. The raised skin under my eyes suddenly felt hot.

I was across the rug and in Justice’s face in just a leap. Justice sneered and pulled back.

“Leave off, brat!”

I thought about hitting her, but I grabbed one of her hands as she was pushing herself back and spit in it instead. Justice squealed in rage and tried to pull away, but I slapped her hand to my face, rubbing it hard into my eyes.

“Is it smudging, Justice? Is it?!” I demanded. “Rub harder, Justice, ‘cause Loris is pretty sure it’s still not coming off!”

I snarled and dropped her hand. Justice curled up like I was a snake, but the rest of the room suddenly flocked around me. I bared my teeth and batted their hands away as they tried to touch my tattoos.

“Oh my gosh, Trochi! It’s her! Isn’t it?” I think it was Fideo who wheezed. “It’s the Wild Princess! You brought her to us!”

The sudden crush of people was too much. I sprang back then clambered behind Giada and Benni on the couch to get out of reach of the Jinkins siblings plus twenty. Suddenly, confronted with Giada and Benni’s sharp ‘Ere now!’ they backed up a few steps.

“Match and point! Good show, Fideo! Good eyes!” Trochi burst out laughing. “There, there now. Let her get her bearings. Here, Loris, want a chestnut?”

Trochi raised his hand. I was getting suspicious, feeling he was enjoying this all too much. He tossed the nut in my direction, so I snagged it out of the air. It was already peeled so I popped it in my mouth and sat sullenly chewing it. It was a poor apology for sicing his demented cronies on me. Heavens, if only Bentley had half their intensity.

One of the siblings had produced a notebook, Fideo, the boy again. He squinted every once in a while and held his thumb up as the other sisters murmured in his ears.

“… geometric design, almost ridiculous, but when you look, it accents her eyes, like woodknots.”

“…bronze, brown, burn-out velvet. That has to be Pilosa.”

“…but the shoes, very practical. Moveable. You think she dances? That’s Crane I warrant.”

Self-consciously I pulled my legs up under me. Trochi threw me another chestnut. Giada turned her head very slowly to look over her shoulder to where I was perched.

“I say, Loris. That is your name? Loris?”

I nodded and bit into the nut.

“Yes. Loris is Loris.” I tried to remember what else Crane had said during our carriage ride. “Loris used to pull on your braid when Loris was littler.”

Trochi barked another laugh.“And so you still seem to be trying to do today. What do you say, Giada? Care to try your Serendipity against this wild critter?”

Giada scowled at Trochi. “For a Wardensan, Trochi Jenkins, you do engage in some rather vulgar topics.”

Trochi shrugged and tossed me another nut. I was feeling a little better and more curious about just what Fideo was writing in his notebook. Would I be able to read it? Probably not, but it was still obviously something in relation to me. I craned my neck to see, but Fideo just scowled and pulled the notebook closer to him.

“Loris wants to see!”

Fideo’s features darkened, but he looked over his shoulder at Trochi. Barely looking at his brother, Trochi gave a slight nod. Fideo sighed and turned the notebook around. It took me a second, but once I saw the triangles I knew what I was looking at.

“It’s Loris, but it’s not Loris.”

Fideo turned angrily on Trochi who softly tried to hush his brother.

“You said I was getting better! They’re still never satisfied. Fracking Wardensans!”

I slid half-way down the couch squeezing between Giada and Benni. Pointing towards the sketch Fideo had turned around, I tried to explain what was missing.

“Loris sees face, hands, don’t know what that sweepy, leafy stuff is, but Loris’s feet aren’t right.”

Fideo snorted. His sisters rolled their eyes as one patted him on the shoulder.

“It’s okay, Fi-Fi. We understand what you were going for.”

Another one of the sisters turned on me.

“It’s a design concept, Loris. It’s not about how you look now. Fideo was trying to come up with something you could wear in the future.”

I blinked and looked at them, and then to Giada and Benni, who seemed to be in some sort of a stupor, and then back to Trochi, who threw me another chestnut. He nodded.

“It’s true, ma bete. That’s how I earned my place in the family. The ability to see the future,” he smiled and winked, “and dress accordingly.”

“Loris sees that,” I still wasn’t being clear. “Loris sees the face, hands, all that Loris can understand.” I pointed to where my feet had more strappy things wrapped around them. My feet looked perfect. “But those are wrong.”

The entire Jinkins mob let out a groan.

“I told you! Sandals are never coming back as long as there’s snow on the ground for more than eight months of the year!”

“Bathing suits are surging!”

“Who wears a bathing suit?”

“For wearing in the bathtub!”

In irritation I pulled at the laces on my boots. It was infuriating. I looked from Benni to Giada. Why were people so useless?

“Help Loris,” I grumbled at Giada. That seemed to register something. She snarled and pushed me towards Benni.

“Do it yourself! Whelp!” Giada angrily pushed herself off the couch and stormed out of the room. Benni was left with my feet in her lap, looking helplessly between my shoes and the door her mistress had disappeared out. She made as if to leave.

“Help Loris! Shoes off!” I commanded.

Benni flapped her hands helplessly then went to furiously tearing at the shoe laces and leathers until my shoes popped off. I stretched my toes inside their stockings with a sigh of relief before yanking my socks off as well and hopping to my feet.

“There? Now Fideo understands? Loris’s feet are not right!”

I’m not sure what I expected, surely not the outcry of disgust and wonder that followed. Evenings like this made me long for Purgatory where apparently injury and deformity was the norm. One of the little girls actually shrieked and collapsed into a pile of pillows. I looked down to check my toes hadn’t started oozing for some reason. They had not. I rolled my eyes. Typical Castelians totally overacting. Fideo, to his credit, just stared mesmerized at my feet.

“They’re-they’re so small! The profile would be…miniscule. An elf-toe.” He suddenly turned away and flopped on his stomach furiously scribbling.

Trochi laughed and stood up before sauntering over to the couch and plopping down where Giada had been just a few moments before. His hand reached beyond me to brush Benni’s shoulder who sat up as though she’d been goosed.

“Oh ladies, how can I ever thank you? You have truly brought my Crew and me great entertainment this evening,” he smiled again. It was such a nice smile, and yet it was bringing up other smiles I did not wish to remember. “How can I repay you, my pet?”

That was perplexing. Repay him for what? Benni, on the other hand, suddenly shot to her feet, causing Trochi to let out a little ‘aww’.

“Thankyou WardensanJenkinsforyou hospitalityyouhavebeenmostgenerous!” And suddenly she shot for the door, leaving me to look back at Trochi. Sitting on the couch, he was still tall enough to nearly look me in the eye while I was standing. He arched an eyebrow at me.

“Well, little pet, it looks as though our company has abandoned us. You are the only brave one remaining. Quell surprise! Non?”

Trochi’s arm curled behind me and rested on my shoulder. His Crew was absorbed in revising their design concept. Giada and Benni had fled, even after their promise to get me back safely. I stared at Trochi, at his colorful clothes, at his smiling mouth, at his glittering eye-liner, at his black eyes.

“You’re not Jack.”

The words startled me and confused Trochi.

“What?”

We didn’t get much further because the door suddenly burst open. Giada, out of breath as though she’d run the stairs, leaned against the frame. She had actually burst through the door!

“Giada! My lady,” Trochi beamed and threw his arms open, hastily removing his hand from my shoulder. “You return to us!”

Giada glared.

“First of all, who the hell do you think you are, Trochi Jenkins, skipping wards like you’re some post carrier, keeping company with this ill-mannered cog-ilk, jealous, ladder scaling wanna-bees. Who, even if you did ascend, are obviously just trying to ride your coattails, the bunch of uninspired, loafing, ill-tempered ferals! Bunch of bunny making glitches!” She took a breath, barely long enough for the room to freeze. “And secondly, she is not your pet, you womanizing poor excuse for a twentieth century low-budget downer cross bred with a cravat! You egotistical, self-absorbed, pompous, randy ass hole!”

Giada fairly roared the last half as she stormed across the room, grabbed me by the back of my jacket and hoisted me over the back of the couch.

One of the girls sat up, “Five points Kicks! Power play, Giada!”

Wardensan Giada just growled and dragged me towards the door only pausing once to snarl over her shoulder.

“And by the way, there’s a raid on. The Owls are here.”