When the Parliament took Daphne, Leicester and Trafalgar both took off after them (at a discreet distance, so as not to be seen), but Jenny had no way to follow them. She had no wings to fly and one boat, but had no direction to go. She was stuck on the beach of the Land of Black Trees with nowhere to go and nothing to do.
This was the worst possible thing for Stormalong Jenny. She had earned that nickname from Captain Brown for her forceful personality -- if the men on the Hangman's Holiday were lounging about, doing nothing, she would force them to get back to work. She hated doing nothing, hated having nothing to do. It reminded her of when she was young, of how she came to be in the Storylands, of how useless she used to be.
But there was nothing to be done now. So she stayed on the beach and waited. She paced back and forth on the sands until her legs were tired.
And then she heard the growling. She turned and there, between two large black tree trunks, was a dog as black as midnight. It was at least six-feet in height and as she looked up, she saw that its eyes were two pieces of burning coals. She sank to her knees.
(Jennifer Vargas.) It spoke without moving its mouth, without betraying its sharp, white teeth. (Stormalong Jenny. Do you know me?)
"Yes," Jenny said. "You're the Canis Major. You're the Dog King. You're the Underhound."
(Yes.) The Underhound looked down at her with its red eyes. (You have been protecting Daphne Blackwell.)
"She's not here," Jenny said. "They took her."
(I know.) It shifted its stance. It looked smaller now, as if it was shrinking. (The Parliament wishes to gain access to the Nothing and believes she knows the way. Do you wish to get her back?)
"Yes," Jenny said, her voice a whisper.
(Ride with me.) The Underhound was small enough so that Jenny could climb onto its back now.
"Thank you, my lord," Jenny said, her fingers holding onto the coarse black hairs of its back. "But why?"
(Access to the Nothing is a secret.) The Underhound began to run, its feet moving so fast, they barely touched the water. (And secrets are my domain.)
They moved quickly across the water until they reached a new land, a land covered in ice and snow. "This is the Ice Child's land," Jenny said.
(I cannot move against the Parliament directly.) The Underhound led her through the frost covered land, growing larger as the snowbanks grew higher. (But there is a weapon you can use against them. It will not kill, but it will cut.)
She saw it then: a block of ice, ice as clear as a summer sky. Inside the ice was a sword, a cutlass made from blue steel. "The Sword of Night and Day," Jenny said. "Cutter of Blood and Bone. Terrors, I thought this was just a myth."
(We are all myths, Stormalong Jenny.) The Underhound moved closer to the block of ice and drew a breath, then expelled the hot air. Rivulets of water began to sweat from the ice block. It was melting.
"I heard that it cut the tongue from the Prince of Thorns himself," Jenny said. "I heard it was so sharp as to cut the day from the night." The Underhound was silent as it blew more hot air onto the block and slowly the sword revealed itself to the world, neither confirming nor denying what she had said.
(Take hold of the sword, Jennifer Vargas.) Jenny gingerly reached forth to take hold of the blue sword. It was still cold, but as she touched it, it warmed, like it was responding to her directly. She pulled the rest of it from the ice and held it up to the light. (This I give to you, Stormalong Jenny. It is my gift and thus cannot be used against me. But you may use it against the Parliament. You may use it to rescue Daphne. I will bring you to their mountain.)
Jenny barely had time to tie the Sword of Night and Day around her waist with her sash before the Underhound leaped above the snows and back to the sea, as it raced along the water and towards the mountain where the Parliament of Fowls waited. Where Daphne waited.
Jenny smiled and gripped the sword tight.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Friday, August 3, 2012
Chapter Fifteen: Bedroom Blues
Daphne opened her eyes and then closed them again. The bright light was gone, but it was replaced by the mother of all headaches. She sat up and pushed her blanket off and put one hand to her eyes. There was a steady throbbing in her head, as if she had hit it on something.
And then she realized -- she had pushed away her blanket. Her blanket.
She opened her eyes and ignored the pain. She was in her own bedroom, in her own house, in her own world.
She stood up and then was hit with a bout of dizziness. Luckily, her mother was passing by and caught her before she fell. "Whoa, there, Daph," her mother said. "You should still be in bed. You took a nasty tumble."
"What?" Daphne said. "What happened?"
"You tripped," her mother said, "and fell at the front door. You're lucky, there wasn't anything broken or sprained or anything. We even had a doctor check you out to see if you had a concussion. I can't tell you how relieved I was when he said you were just sleeping."
"But what about the Storylands?" Daphne asked. "What about Jenny and Leicester and Trafalgar?"
"I don't know who that is," her mother said. "I think you were just dreaming, dear."
Her mother led her back to her bed and tucked her. "Now," she said, "I know you're confused, but I think it's better that you stay in bed. Everything'll be alright, you'll see. We'll even pick up your homework from school, so you won't miss anything."
"Okay," Daphne said.
Her mother kissed her on the forehead and Daphne shivered. Then her mother walked to the door of her room and turned off the light. "You rest now," she said. Daphne nodded.
As soon as her mother left and closed the door, Daphne was up and walking around her room. Everything was just how she left it, but it all felt...wrong somehow. As if it wasn't really her room, but it just looked like her room. She felt the walls and looked out the window. Nothing was out of place.
She ventured out of her room and tip-toed down the stairs. Her mother was in the kitchen cleaning. Did she clean often? Daphne couldn't remember the last time she had cleaned the kitchen.
Daphne walked towards the front hallway and the front door, the place where she had supposedly tripped and hit her head. There was the space where the door in the floor had been. She felt the floor, but she knew she wasn't going to find any hinges or any evidence of there being a door at all. She stood up and opened the front door.
It was night outside. Upstairs, when she looked outside, it had been day. Had the sun set in the minute it had taken her to tip-toe down the stairs? No, of course not.
"What gave us away?" her mother asked.
Daphne turned around. Her mother stood behind her, her hands in rubber gloves, a wry smile upon her face. "You said you would pick up my homework," Daphne said. "It's summer vacation. There is no homework."
"Ah," her mother said. "All these different rules and regulations for your world. No wonder you wanted to escape. No wonder you wanted the freedom of the Storylands."
Daphne tried to run, but her mother grabbed her and slung her over the shoulder. "We made this from your memories," her mother said. "The ones you traded away for food. We used those to establish the world you see, but of course, there were always going to be mistakes. There's still no escape though." Her mother held her as she struggled and walked up the stairs, finally opened the door to Daphne's room. She dropped Daphne in her bed or, rather, the facsimile of her bed. "One of the memories we came across was of a television show. The Outer Limits." Her mother's smile grew wider. "Remember? We control the horizontal. We control the vertical. We can delude you with a thousand images or expand one to crystal clarity and beyond. We can make this room into anything we want. Right now, we wanted you to be relaxed. We wanted you to think you were home. That can change."
"Why?" Daphne asked.
"We want Nothing," her mother said. "You know the way to Nothing."
"I don't," Daphne said.
"You do," her mother said. "Perhaps not consciously, but you do. And you shall stay here until we know as well."
And so the Discordant Symphony in the form of her mother left her there, in her fake room, in her fake house, in her fake world. She sat at her bed for what seemed like hours. She didn't know how much time had passed since she first entered the hole in the mountain. Time in the Storylands worked differently, she remembered, and she wasn't exactly in a position to see where the sun was so it might have been days or weeks or minutes.
She had nowhere to go, nothing to do. There was no escape for her here.
And then she heard a noise. It sounded like a bird screeching. It was soon joined by others, a large number of birds screeching, a flock of birds, a Parliament. They were screaming.
The window of her room, the window that looked out on a bright sunny day, was then cut in two. Behind the window was darkness, a sword, and a face.
It was the face of Stormalong Jenny.
And then she realized -- she had pushed away her blanket. Her blanket.
She opened her eyes and ignored the pain. She was in her own bedroom, in her own house, in her own world.
She stood up and then was hit with a bout of dizziness. Luckily, her mother was passing by and caught her before she fell. "Whoa, there, Daph," her mother said. "You should still be in bed. You took a nasty tumble."
"What?" Daphne said. "What happened?"
"You tripped," her mother said, "and fell at the front door. You're lucky, there wasn't anything broken or sprained or anything. We even had a doctor check you out to see if you had a concussion. I can't tell you how relieved I was when he said you were just sleeping."
"But what about the Storylands?" Daphne asked. "What about Jenny and Leicester and Trafalgar?"
"I don't know who that is," her mother said. "I think you were just dreaming, dear."
Her mother led her back to her bed and tucked her. "Now," she said, "I know you're confused, but I think it's better that you stay in bed. Everything'll be alright, you'll see. We'll even pick up your homework from school, so you won't miss anything."
"Okay," Daphne said.
Her mother kissed her on the forehead and Daphne shivered. Then her mother walked to the door of her room and turned off the light. "You rest now," she said. Daphne nodded.
As soon as her mother left and closed the door, Daphne was up and walking around her room. Everything was just how she left it, but it all felt...wrong somehow. As if it wasn't really her room, but it just looked like her room. She felt the walls and looked out the window. Nothing was out of place.
She ventured out of her room and tip-toed down the stairs. Her mother was in the kitchen cleaning. Did she clean often? Daphne couldn't remember the last time she had cleaned the kitchen.
Daphne walked towards the front hallway and the front door, the place where she had supposedly tripped and hit her head. There was the space where the door in the floor had been. She felt the floor, but she knew she wasn't going to find any hinges or any evidence of there being a door at all. She stood up and opened the front door.
It was night outside. Upstairs, when she looked outside, it had been day. Had the sun set in the minute it had taken her to tip-toe down the stairs? No, of course not.
"What gave us away?" her mother asked.
Daphne turned around. Her mother stood behind her, her hands in rubber gloves, a wry smile upon her face. "You said you would pick up my homework," Daphne said. "It's summer vacation. There is no homework."
"Ah," her mother said. "All these different rules and regulations for your world. No wonder you wanted to escape. No wonder you wanted the freedom of the Storylands."
Daphne tried to run, but her mother grabbed her and slung her over the shoulder. "We made this from your memories," her mother said. "The ones you traded away for food. We used those to establish the world you see, but of course, there were always going to be mistakes. There's still no escape though." Her mother held her as she struggled and walked up the stairs, finally opened the door to Daphne's room. She dropped Daphne in her bed or, rather, the facsimile of her bed. "One of the memories we came across was of a television show. The Outer Limits." Her mother's smile grew wider. "Remember? We control the horizontal. We control the vertical. We can delude you with a thousand images or expand one to crystal clarity and beyond. We can make this room into anything we want. Right now, we wanted you to be relaxed. We wanted you to think you were home. That can change."
"Why?" Daphne asked.
"We want Nothing," her mother said. "You know the way to Nothing."
"I don't," Daphne said.
"You do," her mother said. "Perhaps not consciously, but you do. And you shall stay here until we know as well."
And so the Discordant Symphony in the form of her mother left her there, in her fake room, in her fake house, in her fake world. She sat at her bed for what seemed like hours. She didn't know how much time had passed since she first entered the hole in the mountain. Time in the Storylands worked differently, she remembered, and she wasn't exactly in a position to see where the sun was so it might have been days or weeks or minutes.
She had nowhere to go, nothing to do. There was no escape for her here.
And then she heard a noise. It sounded like a bird screeching. It was soon joined by others, a large number of birds screeching, a flock of birds, a Parliament. They were screaming.
The window of her room, the window that looked out on a bright sunny day, was then cut in two. Behind the window was darkness, a sword, and a face.
It was the face of Stormalong Jenny.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Chapter Fourteen: Symphony of the Devil
The birds surrounded Daphne and pushed her towards one side of the mountain where there was a deep, dark hole. She didn't want to go in the hole, but whenever she tried to go in a different direction, one of the Parliament would be there, their beak sharp and ready to peck her. So far, they had just bitten her on the hands, but she knew if she tried to escape again, they would bite her in more painful places. She felt the sharp stings in her palms and she felt sick when she saw the blood.
So she was herded into the hole and inside there was a wooden stair that led down, down, down. There was no light, so she only knew she had reached the bottom when her feet unexpectedly touched dirt. She felt her way along the walls and wondered whether she should stay where she was or move along further. Could there be a way out of this?
HELLO, DAPHNE BLACKWELL. There was a voice. It was a voice unlike any she had ever heard or, perhaps more accurately, like every voice she had ever heard,
but all layered on top of one another. WE ARE THE DISCORDANT SYMPHONY.
"Oh," she said. "I can't really see you in this darkness."
DARK? the Discordant Symphony said. IS IT DARK?
"Yes," Daphne said. "There's no light at all."
THERE IS ALWAYS LIGHT, the Symphony said. LOOK.
There was a bright flash of light and Daphne's eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough so that she was temporarily blinded. She shielded her eyes from the bright light.
WHY DO YOU AVERT YOUR EYES? the Symphony asked. DID YOU NOT WANT LIGHT?
"It's too bright," Daphne said and then, since she seemed to compulsively apologize, said, "I'm sorry. How do you see?"
OUR SIGHT DOES NOT WORK LIKE YOURS. WE DO NOT REQUIRE LIGHT. WE DO NOT KNOW DARKNESS. WE DO NOT HAVE EYES NOR EARS NOR MOUTHS.
"Then how are you talking?" Daphne asked.
WE DO NOT TALK, the Symphony said. WHAT YOU ARE HEARING IS NOISE, THE MOTION OF AIR. WE ARE THAT MOTION. WE ARE ALL MOTION. WE CAN MOVE AND MAKE THE BRIGHTEST LIGHT YOU HAVE EVER SEEN...
Daphne shielded her eyes further as the light became brighter.
...OR WE CAN MAKE A DARKNESS SO IMPENETRABLE, YOU CANNOT CONCEIVE OF ANYTHING DARKER.
The light vanished and Daphne lowered her hands, but when she reached out to touch a wall, there was none. She was in a sea of darkness. She couldn't feel anything, couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything. All she knew was that there was ground beneath her, but she could have been on an island surrounded by silent waves and she would never know about it.
She sank to the ground and wrapped her hands around her knees. Suddenly, she was very, very scared.
"What do you want?" Daphne asked.
WE ARE THE DISCORDANT SYMPHONY. WE WANT NOTHING. WE WANT WHAT YOU KNOW.
"But I don't know anything!" Daphne cried.
IF YOU DO NOT KNOW ANYTHING, THEN YOU KNOW NOTHING, the Symphony said.
"I wish I did know about the Nothing," she said. "I would tell you, really. But I don't."
VERY WELL.
"You believe me?" Daphne asked quietly.
WE CAN HEAR THE LIES FROM TRUTHS. BUT THE PROPHECY STATES THAT YOU WILL WIELD THE NOTHING AND THUS YOU SHALL DO SO WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE OF IT. THEREFORE, WE MUST KNOW MORE.
"What do you want to know?" she asked.
The bright light came back and Daphne shielded her face again.
WE WILL LEARN THE WAY WE ALWAYS LEARN.
The light became brighter and Daphne covered her eyes, but there was a buzzing her ears and it was making her skin crawl. She wanted to lie down and pull a blanket over her head, but she didn't have a blanket. She missed her home and her bed and her parents so very much.
WE WILL SHOW YOU.
And then the world disappeared.
So she was herded into the hole and inside there was a wooden stair that led down, down, down. There was no light, so she only knew she had reached the bottom when her feet unexpectedly touched dirt. She felt her way along the walls and wondered whether she should stay where she was or move along further. Could there be a way out of this?
HELLO, DAPHNE BLACKWELL. There was a voice. It was a voice unlike any she had ever heard or, perhaps more accurately, like every voice she had ever heard,
but all layered on top of one another. WE ARE THE DISCORDANT SYMPHONY.
"Oh," she said. "I can't really see you in this darkness."
DARK? the Discordant Symphony said. IS IT DARK?
"Yes," Daphne said. "There's no light at all."
THERE IS ALWAYS LIGHT, the Symphony said. LOOK.
There was a bright flash of light and Daphne's eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough so that she was temporarily blinded. She shielded her eyes from the bright light.
WHY DO YOU AVERT YOUR EYES? the Symphony asked. DID YOU NOT WANT LIGHT?
"It's too bright," Daphne said and then, since she seemed to compulsively apologize, said, "I'm sorry. How do you see?"
OUR SIGHT DOES NOT WORK LIKE YOURS. WE DO NOT REQUIRE LIGHT. WE DO NOT KNOW DARKNESS. WE DO NOT HAVE EYES NOR EARS NOR MOUTHS.
"Then how are you talking?" Daphne asked.
WE DO NOT TALK, the Symphony said. WHAT YOU ARE HEARING IS NOISE, THE MOTION OF AIR. WE ARE THAT MOTION. WE ARE ALL MOTION. WE CAN MOVE AND MAKE THE BRIGHTEST LIGHT YOU HAVE EVER SEEN...
Daphne shielded her eyes further as the light became brighter.
...OR WE CAN MAKE A DARKNESS SO IMPENETRABLE, YOU CANNOT CONCEIVE OF ANYTHING DARKER.
The light vanished and Daphne lowered her hands, but when she reached out to touch a wall, there was none. She was in a sea of darkness. She couldn't feel anything, couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything. All she knew was that there was ground beneath her, but she could have been on an island surrounded by silent waves and she would never know about it.
She sank to the ground and wrapped her hands around her knees. Suddenly, she was very, very scared.
"What do you want?" Daphne asked.
WE ARE THE DISCORDANT SYMPHONY. WE WANT NOTHING. WE WANT WHAT YOU KNOW.
"But I don't know anything!" Daphne cried.
IF YOU DO NOT KNOW ANYTHING, THEN YOU KNOW NOTHING, the Symphony said.
"I wish I did know about the Nothing," she said. "I would tell you, really. But I don't."
VERY WELL.
"You believe me?" Daphne asked quietly.
WE CAN HEAR THE LIES FROM TRUTHS. BUT THE PROPHECY STATES THAT YOU WILL WIELD THE NOTHING AND THUS YOU SHALL DO SO WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE OF IT. THEREFORE, WE MUST KNOW MORE.
"What do you want to know?" she asked.
The bright light came back and Daphne shielded her face again.
WE WILL LEARN THE WAY WE ALWAYS LEARN.
The light became brighter and Daphne covered her eyes, but there was a buzzing her ears and it was making her skin crawl. She wanted to lie down and pull a blanket over her head, but she didn't have a blanket. She missed her home and her bed and her parents so very much.
WE WILL SHOW YOU.
And then the world disappeared.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Chapter Thirteen: Much Ado About Nothing
Soon, Daphne felt rough ground beneath her and she opened her eyes to see that Sir Marylebone had set her down on top of a wide dirt plain on a mountain top. She took a deep breath, but the air was thin and ragged and she coughed loudly.
"All rise," Sir Marylebone said, "for Lord Westminster, leader of the Parliament of Fowls!"
Daphne looked around and saw that a variety of different birds had landed around her. And then a large bird, what looked like a large white bird of prey, larger than any bird she had ever seen, larger than she was, set down in front of her and all the other birds looked up at it in reverence.
Daphne tried to keep her calm and said, "Lord Westminster, I presume?"
"I am," the white bird said. "And you are Daphne Blackwell, the young girl who wishes to go to Home Again, are you not?"
"I am," Daphne said, trying not to make her voice quiver. "Is there some problem with that? Why is it that you have kidnapped me?"
Lord Westminster looked at her with its sharp eyes and said, "I am a Roc. I have lived for thousands of years. I have worn down mountains with my beak. I have carried away poor beggars and bejeweled kings and shown neither any mercy. Of all the things inside the Storylands and outside, there is only one thing which I fear. Do you know what that is?"
"No," Daphne said.
"I fear Nothing," Lord Westminster said and as he said the last word the other birds are shook with fear themselves. "Nothing cannot be stopped. Nothing cannot be tamed. Once let loose, Nothing will spread far and wide and it will devour us all. We will all become Nothing."
Daphne swallowed nervously, suddenly knowing why they had taken her.
"And you wish to hold Nothing in your hand," Lord Westminster said. "Do not deny it. There has been a prophecy -- as there always is in the Storylands, written a long time ago and revealed only recently -- about you, Daphne. About how you shall wield Nothing and when you do, it will all be over for the Storylands, for the world."
He approached Daphne and she felt very small as he blocked the sun over her head. "We will not kill you," Lord Westminster said, "for that shall give the advantage to our enemy, the Apolytikion. No, we shall only interrogate you. We shall learn what you know, we shall know to wield the Nothing."
Lord Westminster spread his wings and Daphne could think of nothing so frightening as this very moment. "And then," he said, "we shall not fear Nothing at all."
"All rise," Sir Marylebone said, "for Lord Westminster, leader of the Parliament of Fowls!"
Daphne looked around and saw that a variety of different birds had landed around her. And then a large bird, what looked like a large white bird of prey, larger than any bird she had ever seen, larger than she was, set down in front of her and all the other birds looked up at it in reverence.
Daphne tried to keep her calm and said, "Lord Westminster, I presume?"
"I am," the white bird said. "And you are Daphne Blackwell, the young girl who wishes to go to Home Again, are you not?"
"I am," Daphne said, trying not to make her voice quiver. "Is there some problem with that? Why is it that you have kidnapped me?"
Lord Westminster looked at her with its sharp eyes and said, "I am a Roc. I have lived for thousands of years. I have worn down mountains with my beak. I have carried away poor beggars and bejeweled kings and shown neither any mercy. Of all the things inside the Storylands and outside, there is only one thing which I fear. Do you know what that is?"
"No," Daphne said.
"I fear Nothing," Lord Westminster said and as he said the last word the other birds are shook with fear themselves. "Nothing cannot be stopped. Nothing cannot be tamed. Once let loose, Nothing will spread far and wide and it will devour us all. We will all become Nothing."
Daphne swallowed nervously, suddenly knowing why they had taken her.
"And you wish to hold Nothing in your hand," Lord Westminster said. "Do not deny it. There has been a prophecy -- as there always is in the Storylands, written a long time ago and revealed only recently -- about you, Daphne. About how you shall wield Nothing and when you do, it will all be over for the Storylands, for the world."
He approached Daphne and she felt very small as he blocked the sun over her head. "We will not kill you," Lord Westminster said, "for that shall give the advantage to our enemy, the Apolytikion. No, we shall only interrogate you. We shall learn what you know, we shall know to wield the Nothing."
Lord Westminster spread his wings and Daphne could think of nothing so frightening as this very moment. "And then," he said, "we shall not fear Nothing at all."
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Chapter Twelve: Gone With the Wind
Daphne found herself in the middle of the sky. Quite reasonably, she began to panic. She twisted and turned and began to hyperventilate, taking in deep gasps of air.
"Could you quit that please?" a voice said. "It's gets harder to hold you when you move. You don't want me to drop you, do you?"
Daphne looked towards the sound of the voice and found it to be a very large vulture. The vulture was gripping her with its talons. Daphne stopped her twisting and turning and said, out of habit if nothing else, "Sorry."
"Apology accepted," the vulture said.
"If I may ask," Daphne said, "where are you taking me?"
"You may, but it is impolite to ask a question without first knowing one's name," the vulture said.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Daphne said. "What is your name?"
"I," the vulture said, "am Sir Marylebone, Esteemed Member of the Parliament of Fowls."
"Well," Daphne said, "Sir Marylebone, I'm not going to say that it is a pleasure to meet you, since you have in fact kidnapped me and I do not wish to lie, but I do not wish any offense, so it is interesting to meet you."
The vulture seemed to harrumph, his neck feathers ruffling in the wind.
"And now," Daphne said, "if I may ask my question?"
"You may," Sir Marylebone said.
"Where are you taking me?" Daphne asked.
"Back to the Houses of the Parliament of Fowls," Sir Marylebone said, "on top the Mountains of Rising Action. And there you will meet our Prime Minister, the Lord Westminster."
"And what shall happen to me then?" Daphne asked.
"That I do not know," Sir Marylebone said, "though I suspect he may feed you to our young. They always like eating nice juicy organs."
Daphne closed her eyes and tried to remain calm. She tried to tell herself that the Parliament of Fowls wouldn't simply kill her, that they needed her for something. That if the Parliament had gone to all this trouble of finding her and kidnapping her, she was important for something.
She thought all of this, but none of it helped.
"Could you quit that please?" a voice said. "It's gets harder to hold you when you move. You don't want me to drop you, do you?"
Daphne looked towards the sound of the voice and found it to be a very large vulture. The vulture was gripping her with its talons. Daphne stopped her twisting and turning and said, out of habit if nothing else, "Sorry."
"Apology accepted," the vulture said.
"If I may ask," Daphne said, "where are you taking me?"
"You may, but it is impolite to ask a question without first knowing one's name," the vulture said.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Daphne said. "What is your name?"
"I," the vulture said, "am Sir Marylebone, Esteemed Member of the Parliament of Fowls."
"Well," Daphne said, "Sir Marylebone, I'm not going to say that it is a pleasure to meet you, since you have in fact kidnapped me and I do not wish to lie, but I do not wish any offense, so it is interesting to meet you."
The vulture seemed to harrumph, his neck feathers ruffling in the wind.
"And now," Daphne said, "if I may ask my question?"
"You may," Sir Marylebone said.
"Where are you taking me?" Daphne asked.
"Back to the Houses of the Parliament of Fowls," Sir Marylebone said, "on top the Mountains of Rising Action. And there you will meet our Prime Minister, the Lord Westminster."
"And what shall happen to me then?" Daphne asked.
"That I do not know," Sir Marylebone said, "though I suspect he may feed you to our young. They always like eating nice juicy organs."
Daphne closed her eyes and tried to remain calm. She tried to tell herself that the Parliament of Fowls wouldn't simply kill her, that they needed her for something. That if the Parliament had gone to all this trouble of finding her and kidnapping her, she was important for something.
She thought all of this, but none of it helped.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Chapter Eleven: A Plan Is Made
They sat upon the beach of the Land of Black Trees, Daphne and Jenny and Leicester and Trafalgar, each with their own thoughts. The waves lapped at the shore as they tried to figure out their next move.
"We could try the Freemason," Trafalgar said. "He would know how to enter the Nowhere City."
"You dunce," Leicester said, "the Freemason isn't in the habit of giving away his knowledge. He only takes, never gives."
"Well, why don't you give us an idea then?" Trafalgar asked tetchily. "Show us how smart you are."
"Alright then," Leicester said, "the Matron of Mirrors. There must be mirrors in the Nowhere City, so she could get us in easily."
"Now look who's the dunce," Trafalgar said. "The Matron of Mirrors would never let us use her Garden, ever. Daphne would have to sign away her soul, which would eliminate the whole point of going to the Nowhere City in the first place, now wouldn't it?"
"It was better than your idea," Leicester said.
"Stop," Jenny said.
Both pigeons looked at Jenny sheepishly and muttered, "Sorry."
"I know where we must go," Jenny said, "and I know who we must ask for help: the Enchantress of All Tides."
"The Enchantress?" Leicester said. "Yeah, she'll probably know, but, I mean...what about her elixir? Won't she make you drink it in exchange? Then you'll be turned into one of her Tidewaiters. I've seen them around, all creepy with their watery eyes."
"That may happen," Jenny said.
Daphne, who had so far contributed nothing to this conversation, stood up and said, "Then it's a chance I have to take. We have to find a way in. You don't have to come along if you don't want to, although I wish you would, since I really have no idea where I would find the Enchantress of All Tides."
Jenny smiled. "I do and I am not leaving."
"Neither are we," Trafalgar and Leicester said. "We made a vow, didn't we?"
Daphne smiled. "Then what are we waiting for? We should get moving before it gets dark."
Somehow, the universe must have taken this for a challenge, since clouds then proceeded to obscure the sun and thunder could be heard to rumble in the distance. "That," Trafalgar said, "does not sound good."
"The Parliament's found us," Leicester said. "We need to go!"
But the Parliament is as fast as the wind and the rain and they were upon the four of them before they knew it, a mass of different birds, herons and seagulls and beefeaters and hawks and eagles and buzzards. They surrounded the four of them en masse, scratching them with their talons and their beaks, until finally the mass flew back up into the sky.
"Why did they leave?" Jenny asked. "Why did they not kill us?"
"Because," Trafalgar said. "They got what they were coming for." He lowered his beak as Leicester said, "Daphne's gone."
"We could try the Freemason," Trafalgar said. "He would know how to enter the Nowhere City."
"You dunce," Leicester said, "the Freemason isn't in the habit of giving away his knowledge. He only takes, never gives."
"Well, why don't you give us an idea then?" Trafalgar asked tetchily. "Show us how smart you are."
"Alright then," Leicester said, "the Matron of Mirrors. There must be mirrors in the Nowhere City, so she could get us in easily."
"Now look who's the dunce," Trafalgar said. "The Matron of Mirrors would never let us use her Garden, ever. Daphne would have to sign away her soul, which would eliminate the whole point of going to the Nowhere City in the first place, now wouldn't it?"
"It was better than your idea," Leicester said.
"Stop," Jenny said.
Both pigeons looked at Jenny sheepishly and muttered, "Sorry."
"I know where we must go," Jenny said, "and I know who we must ask for help: the Enchantress of All Tides."
"The Enchantress?" Leicester said. "Yeah, she'll probably know, but, I mean...what about her elixir? Won't she make you drink it in exchange? Then you'll be turned into one of her Tidewaiters. I've seen them around, all creepy with their watery eyes."
"That may happen," Jenny said.
Daphne, who had so far contributed nothing to this conversation, stood up and said, "Then it's a chance I have to take. We have to find a way in. You don't have to come along if you don't want to, although I wish you would, since I really have no idea where I would find the Enchantress of All Tides."
Jenny smiled. "I do and I am not leaving."
"Neither are we," Trafalgar and Leicester said. "We made a vow, didn't we?"
Daphne smiled. "Then what are we waiting for? We should get moving before it gets dark."
Somehow, the universe must have taken this for a challenge, since clouds then proceeded to obscure the sun and thunder could be heard to rumble in the distance. "That," Trafalgar said, "does not sound good."
"The Parliament's found us," Leicester said. "We need to go!"
But the Parliament is as fast as the wind and the rain and they were upon the four of them before they knew it, a mass of different birds, herons and seagulls and beefeaters and hawks and eagles and buzzards. They surrounded the four of them en masse, scratching them with their talons and their beaks, until finally the mass flew back up into the sky.
"Why did they leave?" Jenny asked. "Why did they not kill us?"
"Because," Trafalgar said. "They got what they were coming for." He lowered his beak as Leicester said, "Daphne's gone."
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Chapter Ten: In the Court of the King
The next morning, they trekked through the forest of black trees. They had brought no machete nor knives to cut branches with, so they had to duck down many times to avoid low-hanging branches. Daphne once got her jacket caught on one of the long, thin branches and she thought for a moment that the branch was moving on its own, gripping her tightly, but Jenny pulled her away and she dismissed the thought as nonsense.
The two pigeons, Leicester and Trafalgar, flew overhead and occasionally came down to tell them directions or warn them of a particular dense cluster of black trees. It was hard going, but having two birds on their side helped, since they at least knew where the King of Trees' court was.
Finally, they came to a large circular clearing, where the black trees stopped. Instead, they saw that there were white roots, four of them, that converged in the middle of the clearing and became a large white tree, taller than any of the black trees. The color of the tree hurt Daphne's eyes and she closed them for a moment and when she opened them again, the tree wasn't a tree anymore.
It was a man. A man that was as tall as the tree, a man that loomed overhead.
It wore a suit or an approximation of a suit and its arms were long and thin and they curved, like tendrils, and Daphne could see that its skin was made of white bark and its face was white bark, blank and empty, and without eyes it looked at her and she felt tiny.
This was the King of Trees.
She looked at Jenny and Jenny was on one knee, so Daphne lowered herself to one knee as well. Even the pigeons had stopped moving and were bowing to the King of Trees, bowing in terror, Daphne thought.
She didn't know how long she stayed like that, down on one knee, but then she heard a voice say, "You may rise."
It didn't sound like a voice the King of Trees would use, so when Daphne stood up and saw that there was a man who stood by the King (and looked quite small in comparison), she was not surprised.
"Hello," she said. The King looked down at her.
The man said, "I am his mouth. I speak his Words. What is it you want?"
"Thank you for seeing me," Daphne said. She was still scared, but knew enough to stay polite. "I have recently come here through a Door and now I seek a way back home."
The King of Trees stood there like, well, a tree. If it was displeased by her presence, it didn't indicate so, nor did it indicate if it was pleased or bored or any sort of emotion. The man by its side, however, looked somewhat tired.
After a minute, the man said, "He can take you to Home Again. But there is a task you need to complete first."
A thought popped into Daphne's head and she almost said, "The broomstick of the Wicked Witch of the West," but she caught herself and instead asked, "What is it?"
"Nothing," the man said. "You must find a piece of Nothing and bring it to him. And then he will guide you through the Black Leaves to Home Again."
"Um, I don't really...I mean..." Daphne was confused. A piece of Nothing? What did that mean? "I don't exactly know where to find..."
"You will find Nothing in the Nowhere City," the man said. "Go now, before he gets impatient."
Daphne thought the man was exaggerating, as the King of Trees didn't look impatient. But then again, it didn't look patient, either, so she and Jenny and the pigeons turned and walked away, back to the shore.
She didn't say anything on their walk back, but she was thinking of their impossible task: to find Nothing in a place that was Nowhere. It almost was easier to just give up, but then she remembered Captain Brown and Jenny's tears and she resolved that they would not be wasted.
She would find Nothing and she would make her story end with meaning.
The two pigeons, Leicester and Trafalgar, flew overhead and occasionally came down to tell them directions or warn them of a particular dense cluster of black trees. It was hard going, but having two birds on their side helped, since they at least knew where the King of Trees' court was.
Finally, they came to a large circular clearing, where the black trees stopped. Instead, they saw that there were white roots, four of them, that converged in the middle of the clearing and became a large white tree, taller than any of the black trees. The color of the tree hurt Daphne's eyes and she closed them for a moment and when she opened them again, the tree wasn't a tree anymore.
It was a man. A man that was as tall as the tree, a man that loomed overhead.
It wore a suit or an approximation of a suit and its arms were long and thin and they curved, like tendrils, and Daphne could see that its skin was made of white bark and its face was white bark, blank and empty, and without eyes it looked at her and she felt tiny.
This was the King of Trees.
She looked at Jenny and Jenny was on one knee, so Daphne lowered herself to one knee as well. Even the pigeons had stopped moving and were bowing to the King of Trees, bowing in terror, Daphne thought.
She didn't know how long she stayed like that, down on one knee, but then she heard a voice say, "You may rise."
It didn't sound like a voice the King of Trees would use, so when Daphne stood up and saw that there was a man who stood by the King (and looked quite small in comparison), she was not surprised.
"Hello," she said. The King looked down at her.
The man said, "I am his mouth. I speak his Words. What is it you want?"
"Thank you for seeing me," Daphne said. She was still scared, but knew enough to stay polite. "I have recently come here through a Door and now I seek a way back home."
The King of Trees stood there like, well, a tree. If it was displeased by her presence, it didn't indicate so, nor did it indicate if it was pleased or bored or any sort of emotion. The man by its side, however, looked somewhat tired.
After a minute, the man said, "He can take you to Home Again. But there is a task you need to complete first."
A thought popped into Daphne's head and she almost said, "The broomstick of the Wicked Witch of the West," but she caught herself and instead asked, "What is it?"
"Nothing," the man said. "You must find a piece of Nothing and bring it to him. And then he will guide you through the Black Leaves to Home Again."
"Um, I don't really...I mean..." Daphne was confused. A piece of Nothing? What did that mean? "I don't exactly know where to find..."
"You will find Nothing in the Nowhere City," the man said. "Go now, before he gets impatient."
Daphne thought the man was exaggerating, as the King of Trees didn't look impatient. But then again, it didn't look patient, either, so she and Jenny and the pigeons turned and walked away, back to the shore.
She didn't say anything on their walk back, but she was thinking of their impossible task: to find Nothing in a place that was Nowhere. It almost was easier to just give up, but then she remembered Captain Brown and Jenny's tears and she resolved that they would not be wasted.
She would find Nothing and she would make her story end with meaning.
Chapter Nine: The Land of Black Trees
They soon reached the shore of the Land of Black Trees and Daphne was able to see that it's name was quite fitting. Each tree that she saw was completely and utterly black, with gnarled bark and spindly branches. Daphne had no idea before she saw the trees that there could be different shades of black, but now she saw.
She was still trying to process what had happened with the Hangman's Holiday and Captain Brown. "But won't the Parliament leave them alone when they find I'm not there?" she asked.
"That's not how they work," Trafalgar (or Leicester) said. "The Parliament doesn't like being tricked, certainly not by humans. They may take them away to the Bleak Shore or they may leave them for the Discordant Symphony to play with. I've heard-"
"That's enough," Jenny said. "There's no need to scare the child further, we've already had a long day. Let's rest and then tomorrow we can try finding the King of Tree's court."
They made camp on the beach, not wanting to sleep near the black trees, which seemed eerie and made strange whistling noises whenever the wind passed by.
Daphne tried to get to sleep, but she was filled with questions and regrets. She knew it was her fault that the Parliament went after the Hangman's Holiday, but she also knew that it wasn't. It was a strange feeling, wanting to blame herself and knowing that she shouldn't.
"Jenny," she finally said and she wasn't surprised when the woman turned out to also be awake.
"Yes," Jenny said.
"What did Captain Brown mean? When he said that he had made a vow, too?"
Jenny was quiet for the next few minutes and Daphne wondered if she had perhaps asked the wrong question, but then Jenny said, "I was Doordropped a long time ago. When I was around your age, actually. My name was Jennifer Higgins. I was so scared back then. I had a friend with me, but we were separated and I never found her again. Finally, I found my way to a campsite and there was Captain Brown. He took care of them, tried to help me find my friend and my way to Home Again. He told me that there were many ways to lose yourself in the Storylands, but he vowed that he would not let any of them happen to me. I eventually gave up trying to get to Home Again and joined his crew, forever grateful to him."
Daphne listened to all of this and realized that Jenny was softly crying as she spoke. She didn't know what to say to her, so she stayed silent. Finally, she said, "I'm sorry,"
"No need to apologize," Jenny said. "Everyone has their stories here and all stories end. Even the Storytellers have their stories, all their little secret histories and lives. All we can do is be ourselves and make our endings good and meaningful. Now go to sleep, little one."
Daphne closed her eyes and managed to drift off into a restful dream.
She was still trying to process what had happened with the Hangman's Holiday and Captain Brown. "But won't the Parliament leave them alone when they find I'm not there?" she asked.
"That's not how they work," Trafalgar (or Leicester) said. "The Parliament doesn't like being tricked, certainly not by humans. They may take them away to the Bleak Shore or they may leave them for the Discordant Symphony to play with. I've heard-"
"That's enough," Jenny said. "There's no need to scare the child further, we've already had a long day. Let's rest and then tomorrow we can try finding the King of Tree's court."
They made camp on the beach, not wanting to sleep near the black trees, which seemed eerie and made strange whistling noises whenever the wind passed by.
Daphne tried to get to sleep, but she was filled with questions and regrets. She knew it was her fault that the Parliament went after the Hangman's Holiday, but she also knew that it wasn't. It was a strange feeling, wanting to blame herself and knowing that she shouldn't.
"Jenny," she finally said and she wasn't surprised when the woman turned out to also be awake.
"Yes," Jenny said.
"What did Captain Brown mean? When he said that he had made a vow, too?"
Jenny was quiet for the next few minutes and Daphne wondered if she had perhaps asked the wrong question, but then Jenny said, "I was Doordropped a long time ago. When I was around your age, actually. My name was Jennifer Higgins. I was so scared back then. I had a friend with me, but we were separated and I never found her again. Finally, I found my way to a campsite and there was Captain Brown. He took care of them, tried to help me find my friend and my way to Home Again. He told me that there were many ways to lose yourself in the Storylands, but he vowed that he would not let any of them happen to me. I eventually gave up trying to get to Home Again and joined his crew, forever grateful to him."
Daphne listened to all of this and realized that Jenny was softly crying as she spoke. She didn't know what to say to her, so she stayed silent. Finally, she said, "I'm sorry,"
"No need to apologize," Jenny said. "Everyone has their stories here and all stories end. Even the Storytellers have their stories, all their little secret histories and lives. All we can do is be ourselves and make our endings good and meaningful. Now go to sleep, little one."
Daphne closed her eyes and managed to drift off into a restful dream.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Chapter Eight: The Following Storm
Days passed (or what seemed like days to Daphne, as day and night followed no set pattern -- sometimes they would sail under the stars, under strange constellations that she didn't recognize, and sometimes they sailed under a sun that blazed hot and cold) and the Land of Black Trees grew nearer. She could see it on the horizon, a small shape that steadily grew larger and larger.
Daphne turned and looked out the starboard side into the deep ocean and saw that the Nowhere City was still the same distance away. She didn't know how it was able to float on water or how it was even able to move when she wasn't looking, but it did.
"It's not really there," Long Jenny said one time when she caught Daphne looking. "It's just an illusion that makes it look like it's there."
"So where is it?" Daphne asked.
"Nowhere," Jenny said. "Some say that it's in the center of the Storylands, but the Storylands don't have a center. It's neither Here nor There, so it's Nowhere."
"Who built it?"
"No one," Jenny said, which made sense to Daphne until she thought about it (that happened quite a bit when she was conversing with the Captain, Jenny, or the crew). "Just ignore it," Jenny said. "We have other problems to worry about."
"What do you mean?" Daphne asked.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."
"No," Daphne said, "please, tell me."
Jenny frowned and then pointed at a spot in the sky behind them. "See them dark clouds?" Daphne nodded. "They've been following us. And not only that, they've been growing bigger. Becoming a storm. Which means we've got the Parliament of Fowls following us."
"The Parliament," Daphne said. "I've...encountered them before. Well, three of them."
"There are lots more," Jenny said.
"I may have done something that displeased them," Daphne said. She told Jenny of her encounter with Charing Cross and her refusal of his offer.
"You did right," Jenny said. "Becoming one of their Eyries ain't pleasant or so I've heard. But for them to follow you...that is something more."
The next day, Daphne spotted two shapes in the sky coming towards them. As they grew closer, she recognized the pigeons she had met, Leicester and Trafalgar. They landed on the rigging of the ship and that's when Captain Brown came forward with his cutlass, yelling, "Fowl creatures! I'll not have you on this ship, now or ever!"
"No, Captain!" Daphne yelled. "I know them!"
Indeed, Leicester and Trafalgar were yelling her name. "Daphne!" Leicester (or possibly Trafalgar) said. "We've come to warn you."
Captain Brown lowered his cutlass. "Warn her?" he said. "But you're part of the Parliament, are you not?"
"We were," Trafalgar (or possibly Leicester) said, "until the treaty."
"Treaty?" Jenny asked.
"The Parliament made a treaty with the Skin Within and the Discordant Symphony," Leicester (or possibly Trafalgar) said, their voices quick and hushed. "They are conspiring to capture Daphne. We said we would help her when we met and so we have turned into traitors, left the Parliament, and come to warn you."
"Thank you," Daphne said. She didn't know what else to say; no one had become a traitor for her before.
"Our vows demanded it," Trafalgar (or possibly Leicester) said. "And we didn't like the look on the Skin Within's face or the strange notes made by the Discordant Symphony. They want you for something and it's not good."
"Then we need to keep moving," Captain Brown said. "Keep ahead of that storm."
"You can't," Leicester (or Trafalgar) said, "you can't outrun the Parliament."
Captain Brown smiled. "Who said anything about outrunning?"
They loaded one small rowboat with supplies and Jenny lowered Daphne (with Leicester and Trafalgar) on board. "It's not far from here," she said. "Easy to row to."
"You're going, too," Captain Brown said to Jenny.
"But Cap'n," Jenny protested.
"No," Brown said. "I made a vow, too, remember? You and her and those two birds, you find your way to the Land of Black Trees, to the court of the King of Trees. You do all that and you'll never lose your way, Stormalong Jenny. Goodbye."
So Jenny lowered herself into the rowboat as well and Daphne saw she had tears in her eyes. She wiped them away and started to row. Daphne watched as the larger ship moved away and she asked, "Where are they going?"
"In the other direction," Jenny said. "They're leading the Parliament away, giving us a chance."
"But what happens when the Parliament finds them?"
"This is the Storylands," Jenny said, her head lowered. "Not everyone lives."
Daphne turned and looked out the starboard side into the deep ocean and saw that the Nowhere City was still the same distance away. She didn't know how it was able to float on water or how it was even able to move when she wasn't looking, but it did.
"It's not really there," Long Jenny said one time when she caught Daphne looking. "It's just an illusion that makes it look like it's there."
"So where is it?" Daphne asked.
"Nowhere," Jenny said. "Some say that it's in the center of the Storylands, but the Storylands don't have a center. It's neither Here nor There, so it's Nowhere."
"Who built it?"
"No one," Jenny said, which made sense to Daphne until she thought about it (that happened quite a bit when she was conversing with the Captain, Jenny, or the crew). "Just ignore it," Jenny said. "We have other problems to worry about."
"What do you mean?" Daphne asked.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."
"No," Daphne said, "please, tell me."
Jenny frowned and then pointed at a spot in the sky behind them. "See them dark clouds?" Daphne nodded. "They've been following us. And not only that, they've been growing bigger. Becoming a storm. Which means we've got the Parliament of Fowls following us."
"The Parliament," Daphne said. "I've...encountered them before. Well, three of them."
"There are lots more," Jenny said.
"I may have done something that displeased them," Daphne said. She told Jenny of her encounter with Charing Cross and her refusal of his offer.
"You did right," Jenny said. "Becoming one of their Eyries ain't pleasant or so I've heard. But for them to follow you...that is something more."
The next day, Daphne spotted two shapes in the sky coming towards them. As they grew closer, she recognized the pigeons she had met, Leicester and Trafalgar. They landed on the rigging of the ship and that's when Captain Brown came forward with his cutlass, yelling, "Fowl creatures! I'll not have you on this ship, now or ever!"
"No, Captain!" Daphne yelled. "I know them!"
Indeed, Leicester and Trafalgar were yelling her name. "Daphne!" Leicester (or possibly Trafalgar) said. "We've come to warn you."
Captain Brown lowered his cutlass. "Warn her?" he said. "But you're part of the Parliament, are you not?"
"We were," Trafalgar (or possibly Leicester) said, "until the treaty."
"Treaty?" Jenny asked.
"The Parliament made a treaty with the Skin Within and the Discordant Symphony," Leicester (or possibly Trafalgar) said, their voices quick and hushed. "They are conspiring to capture Daphne. We said we would help her when we met and so we have turned into traitors, left the Parliament, and come to warn you."
"Thank you," Daphne said. She didn't know what else to say; no one had become a traitor for her before.
"Our vows demanded it," Trafalgar (or possibly Leicester) said. "And we didn't like the look on the Skin Within's face or the strange notes made by the Discordant Symphony. They want you for something and it's not good."
"Then we need to keep moving," Captain Brown said. "Keep ahead of that storm."
"You can't," Leicester (or Trafalgar) said, "you can't outrun the Parliament."
Captain Brown smiled. "Who said anything about outrunning?"
They loaded one small rowboat with supplies and Jenny lowered Daphne (with Leicester and Trafalgar) on board. "It's not far from here," she said. "Easy to row to."
"You're going, too," Captain Brown said to Jenny.
"But Cap'n," Jenny protested.
"No," Brown said. "I made a vow, too, remember? You and her and those two birds, you find your way to the Land of Black Trees, to the court of the King of Trees. You do all that and you'll never lose your way, Stormalong Jenny. Goodbye."
So Jenny lowered herself into the rowboat as well and Daphne saw she had tears in her eyes. She wiped them away and started to row. Daphne watched as the larger ship moved away and she asked, "Where are they going?"
"In the other direction," Jenny said. "They're leading the Parliament away, giving us a chance."
"But what happens when the Parliament finds them?"
"This is the Storylands," Jenny said, her head lowered. "Not everyone lives."
Friday, July 27, 2012
Chapter Seven: The Hangman's Holiday
"Come on," Captain Brown said, "I'll show you my ship."
So Daphne followed the captain, who had a booming voice and thunderous laugh and made her feel like everything was going to be alright, down the port, down the wooden docks, and onto a ship. It gleamed in the sunlight.
Wait, sunlight? Daphne looked up and realized that the sun was rising. But it had just set a few hours ago!
She told Captain Brown this and he gave one of his reassuring laughs. "Time is weird in the Storylands. It doesn't follow a set pattern. Sometimes the night will stretch for days, maybe weeks. Other times, the night will slip past in moments."
"So when do you go to sleep?" Daphne asked.
"Whenever we want to," Captain Brown said. "Now, let's get on board my ship, shall we?" Together, they walked up the wooden plank onto the ship. Daphne, who had never been on a ship before, was a little bit uneasy at first, but soon got use to the ship's slight rocking motion.
"This here is the best ship in Allusion Oceans," Captain Brown said. "And do you know I call her?"
Daphne, silent in amazement, simply shook her head.
"The Hangman's Holiday," Captain Brown said. "On account of how lucky she is. Because the best time to do a crime is during a hangman's holiday." He smiled. "Now, let's see if we can push off, shall we?" He turned. "Lads! It's time!"
There was a rush of movement and Daphne watched as dozens of men and women moved around the ship, setting things in motion, tying things down, and generally getting the ship ready to sail. And as Captain Brown walked between his crew, he tossed out names, introducing Daphne to the crew, as if this kind of thing happened every day.
"This here's Haulaway Joe," he said, pointing at one musclebound lad. "Paddy Doyle's over there. And here's the Three Johnnies: Hanging Johnny, Whiskey Johnny, and Johnny Bowker. And where's my first mate? Where's Long Jenny?"
"Over here, Cap'n," an annoyed voice said and Daphne turned. And there was a woman in a blue overcoat with a bright, colorful hat.
"Daphne," Captain Brown said, "this is First Mate Stormalong Jenny. Though we just call her Long Jenny, sometimes, when she ain't listening."
"Which I always am," Jenny said. "We got a destination, Cap'n? Or are we just headed out into the lonely seas?"
"Nope," Captain Brown said, "we're heading for the King of Trees' domain."
"The Land of Black Trees?" Jenny asked. "That's a dangerous area, especially for a young girl.
"She needs to get to Home Again and the King of Trees can get her there," Captain Brown said. "Now, less questioning and more pushing off. Let's go!"
Daphne was quiet still as the other sailors finally pushed off the ship from the port and they started sailing. The boat creaked and Daphne felt that she might be seasick, but Jenny came over and grabbed her hand and she felt better.
As she looked out at the sea, Jenny spoke to her. "The Land of Black Trees is a dangerous place," she said, "and the King of Trees is not someone you want to be indebted to."
"Then how am I supposed to get home again?" Daphne asked.
"I don't know," Jenny said. "I was Doordropped a long while ago and I remember how long it took before I gave up trying to get to Home Again. Eventually, I realized it wasn't worth the price. So I joined up with Cap'n Brown and made the best of it."
Daphne looked around and realized that she had been enjoying herself on the Hangman's Holiday, but that she still missed her own home and her own life. "I'm sorry," she said, "I need to get home again."
"Aye then," Jenny said. "I'll help you, we all will. Just be careful. Sometimes Home Again isn't a very good place to be."
So Daphne followed the captain, who had a booming voice and thunderous laugh and made her feel like everything was going to be alright, down the port, down the wooden docks, and onto a ship. It gleamed in the sunlight.
Wait, sunlight? Daphne looked up and realized that the sun was rising. But it had just set a few hours ago!
She told Captain Brown this and he gave one of his reassuring laughs. "Time is weird in the Storylands. It doesn't follow a set pattern. Sometimes the night will stretch for days, maybe weeks. Other times, the night will slip past in moments."
"So when do you go to sleep?" Daphne asked.
"Whenever we want to," Captain Brown said. "Now, let's get on board my ship, shall we?" Together, they walked up the wooden plank onto the ship. Daphne, who had never been on a ship before, was a little bit uneasy at first, but soon got use to the ship's slight rocking motion.
"This here is the best ship in Allusion Oceans," Captain Brown said. "And do you know I call her?"
Daphne, silent in amazement, simply shook her head.
"The Hangman's Holiday," Captain Brown said. "On account of how lucky she is. Because the best time to do a crime is during a hangman's holiday." He smiled. "Now, let's see if we can push off, shall we?" He turned. "Lads! It's time!"
There was a rush of movement and Daphne watched as dozens of men and women moved around the ship, setting things in motion, tying things down, and generally getting the ship ready to sail. And as Captain Brown walked between his crew, he tossed out names, introducing Daphne to the crew, as if this kind of thing happened every day.
"This here's Haulaway Joe," he said, pointing at one musclebound lad. "Paddy Doyle's over there. And here's the Three Johnnies: Hanging Johnny, Whiskey Johnny, and Johnny Bowker. And where's my first mate? Where's Long Jenny?"
"Over here, Cap'n," an annoyed voice said and Daphne turned. And there was a woman in a blue overcoat with a bright, colorful hat.
"Daphne," Captain Brown said, "this is First Mate Stormalong Jenny. Though we just call her Long Jenny, sometimes, when she ain't listening."
"Which I always am," Jenny said. "We got a destination, Cap'n? Or are we just headed out into the lonely seas?"
"Nope," Captain Brown said, "we're heading for the King of Trees' domain."
"The Land of Black Trees?" Jenny asked. "That's a dangerous area, especially for a young girl.
"She needs to get to Home Again and the King of Trees can get her there," Captain Brown said. "Now, less questioning and more pushing off. Let's go!"
Daphne was quiet still as the other sailors finally pushed off the ship from the port and they started sailing. The boat creaked and Daphne felt that she might be seasick, but Jenny came over and grabbed her hand and she felt better.
As she looked out at the sea, Jenny spoke to her. "The Land of Black Trees is a dangerous place," she said, "and the King of Trees is not someone you want to be indebted to."
"Then how am I supposed to get home again?" Daphne asked.
"I don't know," Jenny said. "I was Doordropped a long while ago and I remember how long it took before I gave up trying to get to Home Again. Eventually, I realized it wasn't worth the price. So I joined up with Cap'n Brown and made the best of it."
Daphne looked around and realized that she had been enjoying herself on the Hangman's Holiday, but that she still missed her own home and her own life. "I'm sorry," she said, "I need to get home again."
"Aye then," Jenny said. "I'll help you, we all will. Just be careful. Sometimes Home Again isn't a very good place to be."
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Chapter Six: Port of Call
After walking a few hours, Daphne finally stopped to rest her feet. She was tired. Tired and hungry. Tired and hungry and thirsty.
She had thrown away the stalk of wheat that the Skin Within had let her have. She didn't know if it was poisoned in some way, but she didn't want to take her chances. This just meant that she hadn't eaten at all since she had arrived and now, having walked what must have been at least five miles, she was tired.
She decided there was no point in complaining, even if she was only complaining to herself, and set off again. And, to her utter surprise, she found that she was at her destination. There was the sign that stated in plain letters:
Daphne hurried forward and looked out at the port. It was big, vast, with wooden ships everywhere.
And people. There were lots and lots of people around. Tall, short, fat, skinny, men and women and even some children. Daphne looked at the crowd, both excited and nervous, since it had been so long since she had even seen so many people.
Daphne wondered among the crowd for a little bit, trying to get her bearings. She didn't know where she should go - the pigeons had never agreed on whether she should go to the King of Trees or the Freemason of Forgetfulness and, in any case, she didn't know which ship was going where.
Finally, she saw something that she did know she needed: food. There was a stand that was selling food, what looked like fried seafood of some sort.
Daphne hungrily approached the stand. "Excuse me," she asked, careful to be polite, "how much would some food cost?"
The vendor operating the stand looked down at her. He looked to be middle-aged, with a rough weathered face. "A basketful is five memories, a cup is two," he said.
"Memories?" Daphne asked.
"And no memories of boring stuff," the vendor said. "We get enough trying to fool us like that, as if we would accept the memory of falling asleep or something like that. No, we're not asking for good memories, but it can't be incredibly dull."
"I'm sorry," Daphne said. "How am I supposed to trade my memories?"
"What, are you Doordropped?" the vendor asked. Daphne nodded and the man sighed, then pushed forward a book that was on the counter. "You write your memory in here. Just one line is fine for each."
"But why would you want them?" Daphne asked.
"The Freemason always has need for memories," the vendor said. "We trade them to him for passage, or else we would lose all our own memories. And that's never pleasant, waking up not knowing who you are. You have a hell of a time just figuring things out."
Daphne was at a loss. She was hungry and that fried shrimp looked delicious, but she couldn't think of any memories she wanted to part with. Finally, she opened the book and, beneath a line that said My ex-wife, she wrote: That time I got lost on the way home from the library.
And then it was gone. As she wrote it, she remembered it and then she couldn't remember it any more. She looked up at the vendor.
"Two for a cup," he said and gestured to the book again.
Daphne swallowed and then wrote: Getting the hiccups in class. And then it was gone, too.
The vendor took the book back and then passed on a cup full to the brim of fried seafood that smelled absolutely delicious. Daphne tried to savor each piece, but soon they were gone. She was slightly less hungry, but she felt a sort of emptiness in her head now, as if she was missing something, so she decided not to trade any more memories.
"Does water cost anything?" she asked the vendor.
"No," he said, "we're not that cruel." He began handing over a cup, when a large burly man arrived at the stand.
"Don't drink that, child," he said. "Stan here, well, he's been known to dowse his water with 'lixir water."
"That's a damn lie, Brown," the vendor said.
"Do you know what 'lixir water does to you, child?" the man called Brown asked. "It's said the Enchantress of All Tides makes it herself. It's what she makes her Tidewaiters drink. As soon as you drink it, you become obsessed with something, anything. Say, buying as many shrimp as you can eat."
The vendor looked angry now. "I would never do such a dirty trick," he said.
"But you would take memories from a young girl, would you?" Brown said. "She ain't more than ten."
"She didn't need them," the vendor said.
"You don't know what she needs," Brown said. "But I have the courtesy to ask. What do you need, child?"
Daphne liked the way Brown talked, so she said, "I need to find a way to Home Again. Some pigeons told me that either the King of Trees or the Freemason of Forgetfulness could help me."
"A favor from the Freemason would require giving up all your memories," Brown said. "Are you prepared to do that?"
Daphne could still feel something missing in her mind and it made her feel sick. "No," she said quietly.
"Then to the King of Trees," Brown said, "though I've not heard of him granting that many favors. Still, he is probably your best bet. And it just so happens that I have a ship heading in the direction of his land."
"What's the cost?" Daphne asked.
"No cost," Brown said. "I was Doordropped once. I know how it feels, finding yourself in the Storylands suddenly, confused and alone. I was lucky to find a ship and become captain of that ship. Oh, I've forgotten to introduce myself, haven't I?"
He stuck out his hand and Daphne shook it. "Captain Abel Brown, at your service."
She had thrown away the stalk of wheat that the Skin Within had let her have. She didn't know if it was poisoned in some way, but she didn't want to take her chances. This just meant that she hadn't eaten at all since she had arrived and now, having walked what must have been at least five miles, she was tired.
She decided there was no point in complaining, even if she was only complaining to herself, and set off again. And, to her utter surprise, she found that she was at her destination. There was the sign that stated in plain letters:
PORT OF SOMEWHERE ELSE
CALLS TO ADVENTURE, EXCITEMENT, DANGER
NO REFUSALS
And people. There were lots and lots of people around. Tall, short, fat, skinny, men and women and even some children. Daphne looked at the crowd, both excited and nervous, since it had been so long since she had even seen so many people.
Daphne wondered among the crowd for a little bit, trying to get her bearings. She didn't know where she should go - the pigeons had never agreed on whether she should go to the King of Trees or the Freemason of Forgetfulness and, in any case, she didn't know which ship was going where.
Finally, she saw something that she did know she needed: food. There was a stand that was selling food, what looked like fried seafood of some sort.
Daphne hungrily approached the stand. "Excuse me," she asked, careful to be polite, "how much would some food cost?"
The vendor operating the stand looked down at her. He looked to be middle-aged, with a rough weathered face. "A basketful is five memories, a cup is two," he said.
"Memories?" Daphne asked.
"And no memories of boring stuff," the vendor said. "We get enough trying to fool us like that, as if we would accept the memory of falling asleep or something like that. No, we're not asking for good memories, but it can't be incredibly dull."
"I'm sorry," Daphne said. "How am I supposed to trade my memories?"
"What, are you Doordropped?" the vendor asked. Daphne nodded and the man sighed, then pushed forward a book that was on the counter. "You write your memory in here. Just one line is fine for each."
"But why would you want them?" Daphne asked.
"The Freemason always has need for memories," the vendor said. "We trade them to him for passage, or else we would lose all our own memories. And that's never pleasant, waking up not knowing who you are. You have a hell of a time just figuring things out."
Daphne was at a loss. She was hungry and that fried shrimp looked delicious, but she couldn't think of any memories she wanted to part with. Finally, she opened the book and, beneath a line that said My ex-wife, she wrote: That time I got lost on the way home from the library.
And then it was gone. As she wrote it, she remembered it and then she couldn't remember it any more. She looked up at the vendor.
"Two for a cup," he said and gestured to the book again.
Daphne swallowed and then wrote: Getting the hiccups in class. And then it was gone, too.
The vendor took the book back and then passed on a cup full to the brim of fried seafood that smelled absolutely delicious. Daphne tried to savor each piece, but soon they were gone. She was slightly less hungry, but she felt a sort of emptiness in her head now, as if she was missing something, so she decided not to trade any more memories.
"Does water cost anything?" she asked the vendor.
"No," he said, "we're not that cruel." He began handing over a cup, when a large burly man arrived at the stand.
"Don't drink that, child," he said. "Stan here, well, he's been known to dowse his water with 'lixir water."
"That's a damn lie, Brown," the vendor said.
"Do you know what 'lixir water does to you, child?" the man called Brown asked. "It's said the Enchantress of All Tides makes it herself. It's what she makes her Tidewaiters drink. As soon as you drink it, you become obsessed with something, anything. Say, buying as many shrimp as you can eat."
The vendor looked angry now. "I would never do such a dirty trick," he said.
"But you would take memories from a young girl, would you?" Brown said. "She ain't more than ten."
"She didn't need them," the vendor said.
"You don't know what she needs," Brown said. "But I have the courtesy to ask. What do you need, child?"
Daphne liked the way Brown talked, so she said, "I need to find a way to Home Again. Some pigeons told me that either the King of Trees or the Freemason of Forgetfulness could help me."
"A favor from the Freemason would require giving up all your memories," Brown said. "Are you prepared to do that?"
Daphne could still feel something missing in her mind and it made her feel sick. "No," she said quietly.
"Then to the King of Trees," Brown said, "though I've not heard of him granting that many favors. Still, he is probably your best bet. And it just so happens that I have a ship heading in the direction of his land."
"What's the cost?" Daphne asked.
"No cost," Brown said. "I was Doordropped once. I know how it feels, finding yourself in the Storylands suddenly, confused and alone. I was lucky to find a ship and become captain of that ship. Oh, I've forgotten to introduce myself, haven't I?"
He stuck out his hand and Daphne shook it. "Captain Abel Brown, at your service."
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Chapter Five: The Skin Within
As Daphne walked through the strange wheat field, she noticed that no matter how far she walked, she never got any nearer to the Nowhere City, just as Leicester and Trafalgar had explained. It was as if her perspective was off in some way and any time she tried judging the distance to the City, she was wrong.
So she decided to go in a different direction. The pigeons had said she was "windward" of the There River and the Somewhere Else Port, so she judged where the wind was going and set off. She wasn't hungry, but she realized that she would probably become hungry as the night wore on, so broke off some stalks of wheat that she could chew.
"Excuse me," a voice said and coughed. "Are you going to eat that?"
Daphne looked around and found herself facing a man, tall and thin, with gray, mottled skin. He coughed again. "Because," the man said, "it's really not nice to eat someone else's wheat."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Daphne said, "I didn't realize it belonged to someone else."
"Everything belongs to someone else," the man said and smiled. His teeth were a shade of yellow. "This whole field, in fact, belongs to me. But don't worry, I'll let you have some wheat. I don't want you to starve, after all."
"That's very nice," Daphne said warily. "My name is Daphne. What's yours?"
"Oh, I've had so many," the man said. "And there are so many of me, I just can't keep count. But here, in this place, they call me the Skin Within."
"Okay," Daphne said. She was confused again, but knew enough to know that she shouldn't reveal the gaps in her knowledge, especially to someone like the Skin Within. "I'm looking to get to Somewhere Else Port. Do you think you could point me in the right direction?"
"Of course," the Skin Within said. "I can even accompany you."
"Oh, I don't want to cause too much trouble," Daphne said.
"No trouble," the Skin Within said. "I was thinking of leaving this place anyway - it just gets so dull, day after day, tending the wheat. And don't even get me started on reaping."
"Then why do you do it?" Daphne asked.
"Oh, I haven't done it that long," the Skin Within said. "You could say that my position here has just been temporary. And now I have to move on."
"Alright," Daphne said. "I guess we better go."
"Yes," the Skin Within said. "Let us go. And we must be careful, too, for there are dreadful creatures that roam the lands between Here and There. So take my hand, young Daphne. Take my hand and I will protect you."
He offered forth his hand, ashen-gray, with its skin hanging loosing off the bones, and Daphne had an unspeakable urge to just run, run away from the Skin Within and his open hand.
"Well, hello, Skin," another voice said, this one melodious and sweet. Daphne turned and there was a woman, a beautiful woman in a dark-red dress and a crimson cap. "Up to your old tricks again, I see. And with a little girl this time."
"This is none of your business, Cutty-sark," the Skin Within growled. "Begone."
"Now, is that any way to treat your kin?" The woman in red winked at Daphne. "My name is Nan, young Daphne. Red Nan, they call me. Skin here, well, he's not to be trusted, certainly not with such a young girl like you. He has a way to stealing your most precious possession."
Daphne backed away as far as she could from the Skin Within while he made more growling (and eventually coughing) noises at Red Nan.
"Thank you for the warning," Daphne said. "I'm very grateful."
Red Nan smiled and it was a warm smile, but also predatory, like a tiger's. "I'm a thief, too," she said, "but you're a bit too young for the things I steal away. Off with you now, keep going along this direction and you will find yourself at Somewhere Else."
Daphne was polite, so she thanked Red Nan again and sprinted away from the wheat field. As she ran, however, she heard Nan call out: "Be wary, though, of those like Skin who would steal you away. Stay yourself, Daphne. Stay yourself, though you may find that you can't go Home Again."
Daphne didn't hear those last words, however, as they were lost to the rushing wind.
So she decided to go in a different direction. The pigeons had said she was "windward" of the There River and the Somewhere Else Port, so she judged where the wind was going and set off. She wasn't hungry, but she realized that she would probably become hungry as the night wore on, so broke off some stalks of wheat that she could chew.
"Excuse me," a voice said and coughed. "Are you going to eat that?"
Daphne looked around and found herself facing a man, tall and thin, with gray, mottled skin. He coughed again. "Because," the man said, "it's really not nice to eat someone else's wheat."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Daphne said, "I didn't realize it belonged to someone else."
"Everything belongs to someone else," the man said and smiled. His teeth were a shade of yellow. "This whole field, in fact, belongs to me. But don't worry, I'll let you have some wheat. I don't want you to starve, after all."
"That's very nice," Daphne said warily. "My name is Daphne. What's yours?"
"Oh, I've had so many," the man said. "And there are so many of me, I just can't keep count. But here, in this place, they call me the Skin Within."
"Okay," Daphne said. She was confused again, but knew enough to know that she shouldn't reveal the gaps in her knowledge, especially to someone like the Skin Within. "I'm looking to get to Somewhere Else Port. Do you think you could point me in the right direction?"
"Of course," the Skin Within said. "I can even accompany you."
"Oh, I don't want to cause too much trouble," Daphne said.
"No trouble," the Skin Within said. "I was thinking of leaving this place anyway - it just gets so dull, day after day, tending the wheat. And don't even get me started on reaping."
"Then why do you do it?" Daphne asked.
"Oh, I haven't done it that long," the Skin Within said. "You could say that my position here has just been temporary. And now I have to move on."
"Alright," Daphne said. "I guess we better go."
"Yes," the Skin Within said. "Let us go. And we must be careful, too, for there are dreadful creatures that roam the lands between Here and There. So take my hand, young Daphne. Take my hand and I will protect you."
He offered forth his hand, ashen-gray, with its skin hanging loosing off the bones, and Daphne had an unspeakable urge to just run, run away from the Skin Within and his open hand.
"Well, hello, Skin," another voice said, this one melodious and sweet. Daphne turned and there was a woman, a beautiful woman in a dark-red dress and a crimson cap. "Up to your old tricks again, I see. And with a little girl this time."
"This is none of your business, Cutty-sark," the Skin Within growled. "Begone."
"Now, is that any way to treat your kin?" The woman in red winked at Daphne. "My name is Nan, young Daphne. Red Nan, they call me. Skin here, well, he's not to be trusted, certainly not with such a young girl like you. He has a way to stealing your most precious possession."
Daphne backed away as far as she could from the Skin Within while he made more growling (and eventually coughing) noises at Red Nan.
"Thank you for the warning," Daphne said. "I'm very grateful."
Red Nan smiled and it was a warm smile, but also predatory, like a tiger's. "I'm a thief, too," she said, "but you're a bit too young for the things I steal away. Off with you now, keep going along this direction and you will find yourself at Somewhere Else."
Daphne was polite, so she thanked Red Nan again and sprinted away from the wheat field. As she ran, however, she heard Nan call out: "Be wary, though, of those like Skin who would steal you away. Stay yourself, Daphne. Stay yourself, though you may find that you can't go Home Again."
Daphne didn't hear those last words, however, as they were lost to the rushing wind.
Chapter Four: The Nowhere City
While Leicester and Trafalgar were busy arguing over whether Daphne should seek out the "King of Trees" or the "Freemason of Forgetfulness," Daphne herself decided to have a look around. So far, all she could see was the patch of dirt that she had landed on and the dark blue sky that the two pigeons had come from.
Daphne stretched her legs and then walked up the small hill next to her (which was probably the "Here Hill" that the two pigeons had told her about). She looked across the landscape and gasped.
It was beautiful. It was near dark, so the sun was just setting and it cast everything in a purple-red hue. Daphne could see the long fields of strange wheat (unlike any she had seen before) and beyond that she could see a large city rising from the ground, a gleaming city, a city that refracted the sunlight into a rainbow of strange colors, colors Daphne couldn't even attempt to describe.
"What is that?" she asked.
The two pigeons finally noticed that she wasn't paying attention to what she was saying, so they followed her and saw what she saw. "Ah, yes," Leicester (or possibly Trafalgar) said, "that's Tabula Rasa, the Nowhere City. You can't go there."
"Why not?" Daphne asked. "Surely it's not that far away."
"Oh, no," Trafalgar (or Leicester) said, "you're right, it's not that far away. But it doesn't get any farther nor any nearer. It's always the same distance away, no matter where you are."
"That's not possible," Daphne said.
"Look at you, thinking you know what's possible or not," Leicester (or Trafalgar) said. "You didn't think we could talk, you did. I mean, it's not impossible for you to be in the Nowhere City, but you can't walk there or fly there or anything. You have to find other ways."
"Oh," Daphne said. At this point, further conversation with the two pigeons was interrupted by the appearance of another bird, a rook. It flew in, it's plumage dusky and dark.
"What's taking you two so long?" it said.
"Ah, Charing Cross," Leicester (or Trafalgar) said, a bit sheepishly. "We met this, ah, human child and were just trying to help her on her way."
"Her way where?" Charing Cross asked suspiciously.
"She wants to go Home Again," Trafalgar (or Leicester) said. "We were saying that she might have some luck with the King of Trees, or maybe the Freemason of Forgetfulness."
"And why not the Parliament of Fowls?" Charing Cross said. "Are they not one of the Day and Night Terrors, too? Can they not bring her back to Home Again?" The rook flew forward until it was only inches away from Daphne's nose. She was becoming nervous in its presence - unlike the pigeons, the rook didn't seem friendly at all.
"Little girl," Charing Cross said, "how would you like to be a friend to all birds? How would you like to live among us and experience the wind and the storm?"
"That sounds..." Daphne tried thinking of the appropriate word and settled for, "...interesting."
"Yes, it would be," Charing Cross said. "We can make you into one of the Eyrie for the Parliament of Fowls. You can come and go as you please. Would you like that?"
Daphne got the feeling that the rook was using a big word in order to trick her, but she was well read and even though she couldn't translate Latin, she knew what the word "eyrie" meant: a nest.
"Thank you," Daphne said, trying so hard to be polite, "but I must decline."
Charing Cross looked at her with its beady eyes. "It isn't nice to decline someone's offer," it said finally.
"I don't mean to be rude," Daphne said.
"She doesn't mean to be rude," Trafalgar (or Leicester) repeated. "I mean, she's got a mouth on her, I know, but she doesn't know anything at all. She was just Doordropped today! She thought we couldn't talk!"
Charing Cross made a sound with its throat and Trafalgar (or Leicester) went silent. "Very well," Charing Cross said. "You have made your choice, good or bad. I doubt the King of Trees would give you such an offer, but you are free to ask him. You may go on your journey now. Leicester and Trafalgar, however, are staying here. They have work to do."
"Alright," Daphne said. She didn't like Charing Cross and she knew the two pigeons were going to be punished in some way for trying to help her, but there was nothing she could do.
She walked down the hill and began her journey across the field of wheat. When she looked back, she could see two pigeons and a rook looking at her and then they flew away, leaving her quite alone.
Daphne stretched her legs and then walked up the small hill next to her (which was probably the "Here Hill" that the two pigeons had told her about). She looked across the landscape and gasped.
It was beautiful. It was near dark, so the sun was just setting and it cast everything in a purple-red hue. Daphne could see the long fields of strange wheat (unlike any she had seen before) and beyond that she could see a large city rising from the ground, a gleaming city, a city that refracted the sunlight into a rainbow of strange colors, colors Daphne couldn't even attempt to describe.
"What is that?" she asked.
The two pigeons finally noticed that she wasn't paying attention to what she was saying, so they followed her and saw what she saw. "Ah, yes," Leicester (or possibly Trafalgar) said, "that's Tabula Rasa, the Nowhere City. You can't go there."
"Why not?" Daphne asked. "Surely it's not that far away."
"Oh, no," Trafalgar (or Leicester) said, "you're right, it's not that far away. But it doesn't get any farther nor any nearer. It's always the same distance away, no matter where you are."
"That's not possible," Daphne said.
"Look at you, thinking you know what's possible or not," Leicester (or Trafalgar) said. "You didn't think we could talk, you did. I mean, it's not impossible for you to be in the Nowhere City, but you can't walk there or fly there or anything. You have to find other ways."
"Oh," Daphne said. At this point, further conversation with the two pigeons was interrupted by the appearance of another bird, a rook. It flew in, it's plumage dusky and dark.
"What's taking you two so long?" it said.
"Ah, Charing Cross," Leicester (or Trafalgar) said, a bit sheepishly. "We met this, ah, human child and were just trying to help her on her way."
"Her way where?" Charing Cross asked suspiciously.
"She wants to go Home Again," Trafalgar (or Leicester) said. "We were saying that she might have some luck with the King of Trees, or maybe the Freemason of Forgetfulness."
"And why not the Parliament of Fowls?" Charing Cross said. "Are they not one of the Day and Night Terrors, too? Can they not bring her back to Home Again?" The rook flew forward until it was only inches away from Daphne's nose. She was becoming nervous in its presence - unlike the pigeons, the rook didn't seem friendly at all.
"Little girl," Charing Cross said, "how would you like to be a friend to all birds? How would you like to live among us and experience the wind and the storm?"
"That sounds..." Daphne tried thinking of the appropriate word and settled for, "...interesting."
"Yes, it would be," Charing Cross said. "We can make you into one of the Eyrie for the Parliament of Fowls. You can come and go as you please. Would you like that?"
Daphne got the feeling that the rook was using a big word in order to trick her, but she was well read and even though she couldn't translate Latin, she knew what the word "eyrie" meant: a nest.
"Thank you," Daphne said, trying so hard to be polite, "but I must decline."
Charing Cross looked at her with its beady eyes. "It isn't nice to decline someone's offer," it said finally.
"I don't mean to be rude," Daphne said.
"She doesn't mean to be rude," Trafalgar (or Leicester) repeated. "I mean, she's got a mouth on her, I know, but she doesn't know anything at all. She was just Doordropped today! She thought we couldn't talk!"
Charing Cross made a sound with its throat and Trafalgar (or Leicester) went silent. "Very well," Charing Cross said. "You have made your choice, good or bad. I doubt the King of Trees would give you such an offer, but you are free to ask him. You may go on your journey now. Leicester and Trafalgar, however, are staying here. They have work to do."
"Alright," Daphne said. She didn't like Charing Cross and she knew the two pigeons were going to be punished in some way for trying to help her, but there was nothing she could do.
She walked down the hill and began her journey across the field of wheat. When she looked back, she could see two pigeons and a rook looking at her and then they flew away, leaving her quite alone.
Chapter Three: Here, There, and Somewhere Else
"Could you tell me where exactly I am right now?" Daphne asked Leicester (or possibly Trafalgar).
"Right now," Leicester (or Trafalgar) said, "you are Here."
Daphne shook her head. "But where is here?" she asked.
"Not here," Trafalgar (or possibly Leicester) said. "Here. With a capital H. More specifically, you are on Here Hill, just windward of the There River, near the Somewhere Else Port."
"Well, those are silly names," Daphne said. "Here, There, and Somewhere Else? Next thing you know, there will be a place called Over There."
"Oh, we're all Over There," Leicester (or possibly Trafalgar) said. "All of the Storylands are Over There. But don't worry, it's just a short walk from Here to There."
"And from There to where I came from?" Daphne asked. "I think my parents are going to be worried sick if I don't get back home before dinner."
"Oh, it's already after dinner," Trafalgar (or possibly Leicester) said. "From Somewhere Else, you can take a ship to any number of places and have any number of adventures. You do want to have adventures, don't you?"
Daphne thought about this. "Well, yes," she finally said, "but I'd like to tell my parents not to worry and that I'm fine. I don't want to just leave them."
"One has to leave ones parents eventually," Leicester (or possibly Trafalgar) said. "That's why most of the protagonists in these types of stories are orphans - they've already got their parents out of the way. No fuss, no muss."
"Well, I don't want to be an orphan," Daphne said. "So if you could lead me to another one of those Doors that leads back to my world, please."
Leicester and Trafalgar looked at one another and laughed again. Daphne didn't like the feeling of being laughed at, especially by two talking pigeons, even if they knew more than she did.
"Doors don't work that way," Trafalgar (or possibly Leicester) said. "Doors don't take you where you want to go - they take you where they want to go. Now, there are other options, but they all involve having an adventure and meeting with one of the Pavor Nocturnus et Diem."
"What are they?" Daphne asked, for she had woefully little skills in translating Latin.
"The Pavor Nocturnus et Diem?" Leicester (or possibly Trafalgar) said. "They are the Day and Night Terrors. They rule the Storylands."
"'Day and Night Terrors'?" Daphne said. "They sound unpleasant."
"Oh, they are more than unpleasant," Trafalgar (or possibly Leicester) said. "They are un-all sorts of things. But they have ways to moving from place to place, from Over There to Home Again."
"Personally," Leicester (or possibly Trafalgar) said, "I'd go with the King of Trees." This sparked off another argument between the two pigeons and Daphne sighed, wondering if her journey to Home Again (as they called it) would ever start with guides like these.
"Right now," Leicester (or Trafalgar) said, "you are Here."
Daphne shook her head. "But where is here?" she asked.
"Not here," Trafalgar (or possibly Leicester) said. "Here. With a capital H. More specifically, you are on Here Hill, just windward of the There River, near the Somewhere Else Port."
"Well, those are silly names," Daphne said. "Here, There, and Somewhere Else? Next thing you know, there will be a place called Over There."
"Oh, we're all Over There," Leicester (or possibly Trafalgar) said. "All of the Storylands are Over There. But don't worry, it's just a short walk from Here to There."
"And from There to where I came from?" Daphne asked. "I think my parents are going to be worried sick if I don't get back home before dinner."
"Oh, it's already after dinner," Trafalgar (or possibly Leicester) said. "From Somewhere Else, you can take a ship to any number of places and have any number of adventures. You do want to have adventures, don't you?"
Daphne thought about this. "Well, yes," she finally said, "but I'd like to tell my parents not to worry and that I'm fine. I don't want to just leave them."
"One has to leave ones parents eventually," Leicester (or possibly Trafalgar) said. "That's why most of the protagonists in these types of stories are orphans - they've already got their parents out of the way. No fuss, no muss."
"Well, I don't want to be an orphan," Daphne said. "So if you could lead me to another one of those Doors that leads back to my world, please."
Leicester and Trafalgar looked at one another and laughed again. Daphne didn't like the feeling of being laughed at, especially by two talking pigeons, even if they knew more than she did.
"Doors don't work that way," Trafalgar (or possibly Leicester) said. "Doors don't take you where you want to go - they take you where they want to go. Now, there are other options, but they all involve having an adventure and meeting with one of the Pavor Nocturnus et Diem."
"What are they?" Daphne asked, for she had woefully little skills in translating Latin.
"The Pavor Nocturnus et Diem?" Leicester (or possibly Trafalgar) said. "They are the Day and Night Terrors. They rule the Storylands."
"'Day and Night Terrors'?" Daphne said. "They sound unpleasant."
"Oh, they are more than unpleasant," Trafalgar (or possibly Leicester) said. "They are un-all sorts of things. But they have ways to moving from place to place, from Over There to Home Again."
"Personally," Leicester (or possibly Trafalgar) said, "I'd go with the King of Trees." This sparked off another argument between the two pigeons and Daphne sighed, wondering if her journey to Home Again (as they called it) would ever start with guides like these.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Chapter Two: Awake with Open Eyes
Daphne didn't have time to even scream before she was enveloped in darkness. The darkness surrounded her like a blanket and she took a deep breath and tried not to panic. Eventually, she was able to become calm and tried to figure out how long she had been falling.
She was able to come to two quite conclusions: the first was that hadn't been that long and the second was that she wasn't falling anymore. She was, in fact, lying on the ground, as she could feel the soil beneath her.
She opened her eyes and saw two pigeons. "Is she awake?" one of the pigeons asked.
"I don't know," the other pigeon said.
Daphne was quite shocked at this, because she had been under the impression that pigeons couldn't talk.
"I'm awake," she said, trying to stay calm. "I mean, my eyes are open, so I think I'm awake."
"That doesn't mean anything," one of the pigeons said. "You can have your eyes open and still be sleeping. I've seen it lots of times."
"No you haven't," the second pigeon said. "You've only seen it once."
"I've seen it more than once," the first pigeon said. "Remember the math man? Remember him? He was asleep and had his eyes open."
"Okay, so that makes it two," the second pigeon said. "That doesn't quality for 'lots of times.'"
"Then what does qualify?" the first pigeon asked. "'Lots' is, quantifiably, two or more."
"No," the second pigeon said. "Two is a couple. 'Lots' is more than two. You need one more example, then you can use 'lots of times.'"
"Well," the first pigeon said, "if she's sleeping, that gives me the third example, doesn't it?"
"Excuse me," Daphne said. "I'm confused."
"Of course you are," the second pigeon said. "You can't use the current situation as an example if you don't yet know if the current situation is an example, after all. It would make anyone confused."
"No, I mean, I didn't think pigeons could talk," Daphne said. The two pigeons turned to look at her and Daphne knew she had said something wrong. "I'm sorry if I said anything offensive."
"You aren't from around here, are you? Walked through a Door, did you?" the second pigeon said.
"Well...yes," Daphne said. "How did you know?"
"We aren't pigeons, m'dear," the second pigeon said. "Even though we may look like them. We're part of the Parliament of Fowls. I'm Trafalgar and this is Leicester."
"I'm sorry," Daphne said. "I still don't understand. Where am I?"
"You're between the blank borders and black letters now," Leicester said. "You're in the Storylands."
"The...Storylands?"
"Where all the stories live," Trafalgar said. "Don't worry, you'll understand in due time. Right now, I suspect you're a bit storylagged. It happens with the Doordropped - those Doors aren't very considerate. We'll help you until you can make it on your own. Heck, we'll even be your exposition guides."
"We're good at that," Leicester said. "Regular thought and memory, we are."
"Thank you," Daphne said. "I don't quite understand, but I'm glad for any help."
"Well, we try," Trafalgar said, then he and Leicester shared a look and a laugh.
She was able to come to two quite conclusions: the first was that hadn't been that long and the second was that she wasn't falling anymore. She was, in fact, lying on the ground, as she could feel the soil beneath her.
She opened her eyes and saw two pigeons. "Is she awake?" one of the pigeons asked.
"I don't know," the other pigeon said.
Daphne was quite shocked at this, because she had been under the impression that pigeons couldn't talk.
"I'm awake," she said, trying to stay calm. "I mean, my eyes are open, so I think I'm awake."
"That doesn't mean anything," one of the pigeons said. "You can have your eyes open and still be sleeping. I've seen it lots of times."
"No you haven't," the second pigeon said. "You've only seen it once."
"I've seen it more than once," the first pigeon said. "Remember the math man? Remember him? He was asleep and had his eyes open."
"Okay, so that makes it two," the second pigeon said. "That doesn't quality for 'lots of times.'"
"Then what does qualify?" the first pigeon asked. "'Lots' is, quantifiably, two or more."
"No," the second pigeon said. "Two is a couple. 'Lots' is more than two. You need one more example, then you can use 'lots of times.'"
"Well," the first pigeon said, "if she's sleeping, that gives me the third example, doesn't it?"
"Excuse me," Daphne said. "I'm confused."
"Of course you are," the second pigeon said. "You can't use the current situation as an example if you don't yet know if the current situation is an example, after all. It would make anyone confused."
"No, I mean, I didn't think pigeons could talk," Daphne said. The two pigeons turned to look at her and Daphne knew she had said something wrong. "I'm sorry if I said anything offensive."
"You aren't from around here, are you? Walked through a Door, did you?" the second pigeon said.
"Well...yes," Daphne said. "How did you know?"
"We aren't pigeons, m'dear," the second pigeon said. "Even though we may look like them. We're part of the Parliament of Fowls. I'm Trafalgar and this is Leicester."
"I'm sorry," Daphne said. "I still don't understand. Where am I?"
"You're between the blank borders and black letters now," Leicester said. "You're in the Storylands."
"The...Storylands?"
"Where all the stories live," Trafalgar said. "Don't worry, you'll understand in due time. Right now, I suspect you're a bit storylagged. It happens with the Doordropped - those Doors aren't very considerate. We'll help you until you can make it on your own. Heck, we'll even be your exposition guides."
"We're good at that," Leicester said. "Regular thought and memory, we are."
"Thank you," Daphne said. "I don't quite understand, but I'm glad for any help."
"Well, we try," Trafalgar said, then he and Leicester shared a look and a laugh.
Chapter One: The Door in the Floor
It was summer and Daphne Blackwell was bored. She was one of those rare children that actually enjoyed school and now that school had let out, she didn't quite know what to do with herself. Her parents, who were good parents, though slightly clueless, didn't quite know what to do with her either, so every day, they sent her outside "to play."
This inevitably meant that Daphne would walk to the local library and read for the rest of the afternoon and then, when she felt her parents thought she would be coming home, she came home. It wasn't exciting, it wasn't interesting, but it was better than nothing.
Today, however, was a Sunday. And on Sundays, the library was closed.
This presented a problem. Her parents usually did something as a family on Sunday, but today, both her mother and father were busy. They didn't expect her to go out and play, but they expected her not to sit around and do nothing.
Daphne had walked outside and then immediately regretted it. Today, it wasn't just hot: it was sweltering. Daphne had learned that word in a book from the library and now wished she had checked it out, so she could continue to read it.
Unfortunately, she had failed to check out a new book when she returned her old ones. And now she was stuck without anything to read on a blazing hot day with no one around.
Daphne walked around the house listlessly. They had moved here only a few months before and Daphne hadn't really explored the nooks and crannies. Perhaps, her mind reaching for something to stave off boredom, perhaps there was something to find in this old house, some sort of treasure. Even just a pretend treasure.
So she carefully explored the house and the grounds, but found quite a lot of nothing. Perhaps if it hadn't been so hot, she wouldn't have been so disappointed, but it was and she was.
Dejectedly, she walked back to the front door of the house and opened it.
And she saw another door.
Daphne stepped back. There was a door beneath the front door. It was small and squat, barely four feet by four feet, but Daphne knew that it hadn't been there before. How could it have been? She had walked across that floor many times and never seen it.
And, faced with this impossible door, Daphne did what her mind was telling her not to do: she opened it.
There was an expanse of darkness on the other side. "Hello?" Daphne said and leaned forward, holding onto the door's handle. Unfortunately, this was exactly the wrong thing to do and the wrong time to do it. Daphne's foot slipped on the floor and her hand slipped off the handle.
And Daphne plunged headfirst through the door and into the unknown.
This inevitably meant that Daphne would walk to the local library and read for the rest of the afternoon and then, when she felt her parents thought she would be coming home, she came home. It wasn't exciting, it wasn't interesting, but it was better than nothing.
Today, however, was a Sunday. And on Sundays, the library was closed.
This presented a problem. Her parents usually did something as a family on Sunday, but today, both her mother and father were busy. They didn't expect her to go out and play, but they expected her not to sit around and do nothing.
Daphne had walked outside and then immediately regretted it. Today, it wasn't just hot: it was sweltering. Daphne had learned that word in a book from the library and now wished she had checked it out, so she could continue to read it.
Unfortunately, she had failed to check out a new book when she returned her old ones. And now she was stuck without anything to read on a blazing hot day with no one around.
Daphne walked around the house listlessly. They had moved here only a few months before and Daphne hadn't really explored the nooks and crannies. Perhaps, her mind reaching for something to stave off boredom, perhaps there was something to find in this old house, some sort of treasure. Even just a pretend treasure.
So she carefully explored the house and the grounds, but found quite a lot of nothing. Perhaps if it hadn't been so hot, she wouldn't have been so disappointed, but it was and she was.
Dejectedly, she walked back to the front door of the house and opened it.
And she saw another door.
Daphne stepped back. There was a door beneath the front door. It was small and squat, barely four feet by four feet, but Daphne knew that it hadn't been there before. How could it have been? She had walked across that floor many times and never seen it.
And, faced with this impossible door, Daphne did what her mind was telling her not to do: she opened it.
There was an expanse of darkness on the other side. "Hello?" Daphne said and leaned forward, holding onto the door's handle. Unfortunately, this was exactly the wrong thing to do and the wrong time to do it. Daphne's foot slipped on the floor and her hand slipped off the handle.
And Daphne plunged headfirst through the door and into the unknown.
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