331. Nick of Time and his Daughters

331. Nick of Time and his Daughters

Somewhere in an Apple Island neighborhood. A street that is always misty with a low mist that doesn’t much reach above most of the trees. Now a garden that is no more than a vast expanse of unkempt, dandelioned lawn,  a square pink building with four floors, the fourth being like a flat rooftop terrace, partly covered with glass that was a blinding golden in the sunlight and went a solid black at night. There were  many windows on the other three floors, all of them with their blinds down. But on the ground floor there was also a double door that never looked shut if you took a second look at it. There was a very small purple metal sign on the door with fine print in light blue that said, “If you want to come in, do it without knocking.”  And once you had stepped in, another small sign, this time lavender coloured with deep pink letters, said, “We’re probably upstairs. Do some climbing.”

And now, up close, the sound of sweet and low singing. Whispered singing.

“Spin, spin gold spin, as the earth spins, round the sun spins, as the hands of clocks spin, spin, spin, sisters, spin! All we need is sunlight, all we need is a beam, all we need is a ray, to spin spin golden gold.  Sisters, spin away!”

Nicholas Philomel, impressively older than the hills or anything much older and with the longest and fluffiest white braided hair and braided beard to be seen in Fairyland and the yellow eyes of an observant cat, is said to have woven the web of time. Once he had done that, there was no having any more time than that he had produced. Some say this is AEternus’ fault, for he put a stop to the time weaving. Others say this is just that Nick of Time ran out of whatever material he had spun time with. In any case, Nick no longer weaves time, and he can’t give anyone more of it. But he now runs a workshop that can give you lots of other covetable  things. If you know how to ask for them.

In this workshop, which is on the peculiar rooftop of the building, - the rest is Nick’s home - labour seven girls, known collectively as the Goldspinners or the Aureas. Nick calls them his daughters for he himself spun them out of gold. They are pretty to look at and sing very nicely and most catchily too while they are at work. These girls spin the gold coins that can always be found in the coatpockets of fairies who wear the special coats Apple Island deals out to its inhabitants. The girls also spin other things, like jewelry, magical or not, of course, but also solid gold cups of joy, tableware for the haughtiest tables, clothes that make you vulnerable to thieves and even body parts and especially hair of solid gold for people who desperately want to be desired for the wrong reasons.

The spinners don’t spin like most people do. They get into some wheels that depend on their hips to spin like hula hoops. Sometimes, they themselves spin like dervishes. When they begin to spin like tops, to watch them is to loose your balance yourself. They go faster and faster and soon things begin to fall to the ground, out of nowhere. But they only spin from ten in the morning  to four in the afternoon because that is the light they need to do their job. And aside from their agreement to spin gold for Titania’s Apple Island project, they only take orders for specific things and never make a lot of stuff to later sell.    

 It turned out Nick had nothing to say about Umbrian’s disappearance because AEternus had confiscated the Web of Time ages ago and hidden it away somewhere unreachable. So Nick couldn’t consult it to see what had happened to Ambivolo’s son. And so Ambivolo did some ranting against AEternus for hiding the web and not being transparent and Esmeraldo  again kicked him in the shin, this time the left one,  for maligning his grandfather.

“Ow!” said Ambivolo, and after that he asked, “Whose kid is this?”

“Mine,” said Richearth. “I am sorry he has caused you pain, but I don’t really know if I should apologize for him or not. AEternus is my father, and you have called down all sorts of curses on his descendants. That’s me and these kids here. And Gentie. Are you upset, Gentie? Need we be offended?”

“Esmeraldo, darling,” I, Heather, said, “one must answer words with words. Not kicks.”

“You mean I should have cussed this donkey back instead of kicking him like a mule?” asked Esmeraldo.

“Not exactly, I am sure,” said Gentlerain, answering my cousin before I could. I think that also served like an answer to his brother’s question.

“Well, you probably don’t mind hearing your father maligned because you don’t like him, but my Grandpa is my Grandpa, good or bad, and I have to defend what’s mine.”

“What? I have never said I don’t like AEternus. I don’t like the way he does certain things. That is all. And don’t sass me, boy. I’ve had my share of quarrels with obnoxious kids and I always win. Exercise caution. You’ve been forewarned,”said Gentlerain.

“You don’t like children because you haven’t any. And you haven’t any because they don’t like you,” said Esmeraldo.

“I do have children. Two daughters standing right there next to you.”

“Well, go sass them for their having started this mess you are trying to right and leave me be.”

“WHAT?” cried the Bluebell Twins in unison.

“Oh, dear!” sighed Uncle Richearth. “Will I have to do something about this?”

“No, no!” said Ambivolo. “You are getting me wrong! I like this brave boy. He is spunky and defends his family. I admire that. He has the cheek to call me a donkey! Those are traits I value. I was asking whose he was because I would have offered to keep him for myself should he have been available.”

“My wife would kill me if I were to give Esmeraldo away,” sighed Uncle Richearth. “Actually, it’s not the first time I’ve done something like that, because I had this one kid, Feeseepkee, who I had to give away because -”

“WHAT?” cried Esmeraldo.

“Oh, dear!” sighed Richearth.

But before Richie could say more, Gentlerain intervened. “You see, pleasant child? As my father, who is your grandfather, would say, you said I didn’t like my father and now you are having trouble with yours. That’s the way things work in this island. And it serves you right.”

“Yes, Papá would say that,” nodded Uncle Richearth. “It would be exactly like your grandpa to say that, Esmeraldo. Gentie is getting to be more and more frighteningly like him every day. Scary.”

“Bah!” said Gentie.

We were so into our own things that one of the seven Goldspinners had to leave her spinning wheel and say something so we would get back on track and discuss the business we had come to discuss.   

“All I can tell you about Malina Badlight is that I myself spun solid gold hair for her and implanted it on her scalp, and that she was back in no time screaming she wanted it off her head. She admitted it had the advantage that she didn’t have to dye her hair every forthnight, but it was dangerous to have in the places she frequented and attracted unwanted admirers. So I pulled it off her head, roots and all, hair by hair, not strand by strand, because I didn’t want to break any of it by accident. And that hurts, so while I was at it, she yelled and cussed something awful.”

“Awful awful!” chorused the other six Goldspinners softly, spinning more and more softly too until they stopped.

“As if we hadn’t warned her this would happen,” said the girl who had spun Malina’s hair. “So I turned the hair into a wig so she could wear it when she chose to and not  all the tine and everywhere. You can’t go everywhere with solid gold hair without someone wanting to tear it off you. To steal it or because they are envious.”

“We had warned her and warned her!” said the other spinners. “Three times seven times. That’s twenty one, in case you can’t multiply.”

“I even sewed all her original hair back on to her head. And did that for free, though she couldn’t sue us, because we had warned her what would happen.”

“Warned her, warned her! Three times seven times! That is twenty-one. It ought to be enough,” chorused the rest of the spinners nodding vehemently.

“We know very well what it is to be wanted for the wrong reasons,” the first of the spinners went on. “So we keep to ourselves and do almost nothing but work and when we do go out, we are careful who we show ourselves to, and it is a one time thing. The moment first astonishment is over at the sight of us, we rush back home. Before someone chops us in pieces and sells these.”

“That doesn’t happen on this island,” said Gentlerain.

“Of course not. Only among mortals. It’s a risk we took whenever we left it. So we don’t any more. We were new then. We are older and wiser now. We have our fun at the local fairy rings.”

“What else do you know about Malina?” asked Gentlerain.

“What we know about our clients we keep in silver boxes. We don’t spin silver, and that metal isn’t kind to us, so we never even touch these boxes aside from when we open them to put the information in and snap them shut after.”

And she pointed at an enormous shelf there was against the whole of one of the walls in the workshop. On each of the many stands there were small silver coffers with numbers on them.

“Numbers 13513, 13514 and 13515 are about clients that could give you information that will help you. Unfortunately, we have to be discreet and can’t just  give you these boxes. But we can turn our backs on you while you steal them.”

“Steal them?” asked Uncle Richie. “But we aren’t thieves!”

“One of you will have to be if you want the information. Now we and our father will turn our backs on you and you do as you please.”

It didn’t happen at first try, but the girls said they would give us three chances. After the third try the three coffers in question had gone missing.

“Good,” said the Aureas in unison. “Well, that’s all we can do for you unless you want something else.”

330. Questioning Fancy

330. Questioning Fancy

Going about helping Fancy Feverfew got to be complicated. Nobody wanted to involve Henbeddestyr Parry in a search for his missing brother. Nobody really knew why they didn’t want this, but they just didn’t. He is such a nice person no one wants to associate him in any way with trouble, though being an apothecary he sees more than his share of unpleasantness. However, it was only right to warn Henny that the search was on. So he was warned.

“Try to find Umbrian if you please,” said Henny. “He’s not that terrible to have around. But I have no idea how to help you. When he first disappeared, I did try to find him. But nobody knew anything. No clues, no leads, no trace, no info of any kind, useful or not.”

Once Gentlerain and Richearth had Henny’s approval, we all concluded the next step was to speak with Fancy herself. There was the question of who would do that. Gentlerain couldn’t go alone, and much less so Richearth. There might be gossips to worry about. They could go together and they would. But there were others who wished to come too. Little Neferclari had spoken with her young aunt Azuline and her uncle Esmeraldo. And these two were interested in helping Fancy because they had said they would even before anyone else had thought of doing this. The Bluebell Twins were asked to come too, because they might be needed. After all, they had done their part in the Umbrian and Fancy entanglement. 

On the whole, there were like fifty people who had reasons to want to interfere in this business, including Ambivolo Parry, who was obsessed with the idea that his son Umbrian might be a victim of foul play. Being a very prepotent person, he insisted on consulting the Memorion, who, as everyone knows, can’t be consulted at all about anything though he knows everything, because it would kill the already overworked man to be at everyone's beck and call like a public oracle. Belvedere could only say it was Fancy who would in a rambling way give us a lead to follow, and that we should be attentive to her every word so this information wouldn’t escape us. And that was a lot of saying for someone who isn’t allowed to be an oracle.    

So it was looking like a mob was about to storm the dolmen when we all got to the hill where Fancy kept herself. Not wanting to frighten Fancy, all save Richie and Gentie remained at a prudent distance, but not so prudent that we couldn’t hear the conversation that was to take place.

Richie and Gentie sat down crosslegged on the ground before the opening of the dolmen because they felt this would take a while and Richearth called out to Fancy, “Fancy, hi! This is Richie. Do you remember how we sang a duet during our Crowned Heads concert? It was our coming of age year.”

And after some small talk meant to get Fancy to trust them, and once Gentie and Richie had revealed their intentions to help her return to a normal life, Fancy said, “I would love to help you help me. I’m really touched you want to. But I can’t help good people. I am under a curse that doesn’t let me. But yes, I will tell you all I know, and all I suspect, though this curse I am under might make my efforts backfire. Well, here goes.”

She rambled on, just as the Memorion had said she would, and among the many things she said was that Umbrian had had a girlfriend before he fell in love with her and might have returned to this girl. Unfortunately, that person had disappeared too. But that only made Fancy feel this person and Umbrian had probably run off together, though she couldn’t see why they would have to hide. Umbrian had broken with her and was free to return to this other girl if he chose.

“That must be it,” said Gentie, “what my father-in-law said Fancy would say. Nothing else she has said leads anywhere.”

“I have always been very afraid of this person,” said Fancy.

“I take it this person has a name?” asked Gentie.

Fancy was scared to pronounce it, so she wrote it on a piece of paper and stuck her arm out the opening to the dolmen and Richie took that bit of paper and glanced at it and said, “Oh, heck!” and handed it to Gentie.

“He always liked conflictive women,” said Uncle Rich. “I got involved with such ladies, because I used to get involved with anyone available, but I am not sure I ever really liked them as much as he did. The meaner they were, the more he admired them. Look no further. This is the one who laid the curse.”

And Ambivolo Parry started shouting what he would do once we had tracked down Malina Badlight. And Esmeraldo, annoyed by the uproar, gave the grand old man a kick in the shin.

 “What?” said Ambivolo, stunned by this attack. “What is the meaning of this?”

“It means I want to be a do-gooder. And I am doing you good. You will bust a vein if you continue acting up.”

“Weeeeell,” said Ambivolo slowly, “you maaaaaay have something there, little boy.” And he made no more of the kick, but turned to Gentie and said, “If nobody knows where that vixen is, and your father-in-law is being such a legalist, we will have to consult Nick of Time.”

329. Pulvis Amoris

329. Pulvis Amoris

“What kind of people would send a vulture to fetch a baby instead of a stork?” asked Remigia Glassywave, both indignant and aghast.  

I, Heather, could have said vultures have babies too. Of their own. But that would have been very know-it-all of me and might have defeated our purpose, which was to get Mr. Binky installed at Glassy Bay.

“Moony stays!” decided Remy. “We’ll defend him with our tridents if necessary!”

“Aye, aye!” said Barge Billy. That is what they call Mr. Glassywave. I have always thought of barges as river things. Things that cross smaller than the sea bodies of water. I couldn’t help thinking he should have been called something else. Billy Boat, perhaps. He looked a little like a goat, not a boat, like some kind of a bovid, but I suppose that is what made me think of this alternative name. His hair was sun yellow and there was a lot of it. Like the golden fleece. His wife’s was black and  Indian straight, or would have been, if she hadn’t worn it in two braids she had just undone. That made it wavy-looking.  But you knew it wasn’t naturally so.

As for where we were at, well, the Glassywaves had like two huts and a large shed on a promontory. Up there you could stare at the beautiful beach below in easy fascination and never look away until someone made you do that. I watched my Uncle Gentlerain’s face as he sized up the place. And I think he was thinking, "What can my father have been thinking of sending us here? Mungo could destroy this site of innocence." Because it wasn’t at all the Memorion's idea that we should go there, but something that had to do with AEternus’ memory.

“We’re not as lazy as people like to think we are. We’ve three spaces here, and two are workshops,” said Remy, carefully pushing  the door to a grass hut so it wouldn’t fall to the ground. I can’t tell what held it in place. Magic, I suppose. Not hinges. Unless they were invisible. Not even so, I think.

Inside the hut, aside from a lot of sand, was a table , three chairs, a spinning wheel, two large chests, a pile of driftwood and not much else. Ah, yes! Looking almost unpresent in the dark depths of the place was a shelf that couldn’t possibly be better mounted on the wall than the entrance door was. It was loaded with empty glass bottles of many kinds and colours, one stand being all coke bottles. On the table were strings and cords and ribbons and heaps of  shells and smooth round pebbles and sea glass particles. And glue and scissors and needles and such.

“I do jewelry,” said Mrs. Glassywave, and she showed us samples of it, which were rather pretty.    

Mr. Glassywave produces surfboards and boomerangs in the shed, that is also used to house a boat and other such stuff. And between them both the Glassywaves craft dreamcatchers, wind chimes and other kinds of hanging mobiles, some musical without the aid of a breeze.

“I’ll be making a couple of cribs,” said Billy. “We’ve an emergency. Those kids can’t just be kept forever in baskets of bulrushes.”

“Make a playpen  too,” said Remy. “A roofed  one, like a cage. In case they discover they can fly before we are psychologically ready to chase them.”

 And Billy went outside  and started working on that right then, leaving us with his wife. The only other thing we heard him say was goodbye when we left.

Before that, I accompanied Remy and Penny into the home hut to help them settle the babies in. And through Beau’s mind, always in contact with mine, I learned what went on outside between my uncles.

“What happens if Binky suddenly begins to age in a rush and is like forty before midnight and rises from the crib doing a Frankenstein act?” Uncle Rich whispered to Uncle Gentlerain.

“Belvedere would have warned us. That is not going to happen,” murmurred Uncle Gent.

“You are such a nice person, Gentie,” sighed Uncle Rich. “You’ve come all the way here to help a bloke who made your life hell. I am proud of you.”

“I am not good at all,” said Uncle Gent. “Every time I passed by Heather’s garden and repaired on Mungo resting there in his box I  wished he were truly a mummy. I felt like engraving an epitaph on the glass. Eius somnia multorum somnia dira erant. Or Somnia eius erant somnia turbarum multorum. Or something like that.”

“Ah, his dreams were the nightmares of many! Fitting, fitting indeed. But... desiderium et actio res diversae sunt.  And that is why you are such a nice person. How about if we buy some sea glass stuff for our wives? It would be nice of us, wouldn’t it?”

“And daughters,” said Uncle Gent. “And for my mother-in-law. You have made me think I should have a word with her.”

“Because of what I said about Fancy and Umbrian getting  together being unnatural. Isn’t that so? I never meant your girls might have to do with it. Maybe I should have bitten my tongue. If I didn’t, it was because I never imagined they could be involved.”

“I really hope Cybela  had nothing to do with this union. But I also hope she has a notion why Fancy and Umbrian became an odd couple.”

And then the blue matchmaker princesses appeared, delicately matching the sea behind and the sky above them.  

“Daddyman, it was our first try,” said Belle and Bella in unison to Uncle Gentie. “Before that, we only matched owls and pussycats in pea green boats and such. We’re here because Grandma said to come and tell you two things. First, what we just have. And then not to buy her anything from here. She only wears diamonds. But we wouldn’t mind having some sea glass and silver bracelets ourselves. Thank you.”

“You have just admitted to having hexed Umbrian and Fancy? Retract! Or they could sue you!” hissed Uncle Rich, very worried because of his part in this revelation.

“Nah. Hexing is by witches. We just gave them a teensy push. Put them in the right place at the right time,” said Belle.

“And blew a little pulvIs amoris in their direction,” said Bella. “To enhance things a bit. We don’t use arrows either. No making hearts bleed. Not even a scratch. That’s our policy.”

“You can’t use love dust  unless both the parties involved  ask you to.”

“We know that now,” said Bella.

“But we didn’t then,” said Belle. “In any case, they had a good time. Sweet memories that will linger with them forever. Not everyone has as tender an affair as they had. That will never change just because it came to a sorry end.”

“Your grandma told you to do that? Or was it strictly your own idea, girls?” said Uncle Gent.

“No, Gentie! Don’t you go sticking your own foot in this mess now. They didn’t do anything. They aren’t admitting to this. You hush you mouths, girlies,” said Uncle Rich. “Like I should have mine. Nobody has to know about this. It happened like three centuries ago and you were probably minors. You know what a secret is? Well, this is one. Keep it!”

“We were over seven.”

“But it was your first century. People can be considered unimpeachably stupid until they are at least their first hundred years old. You needn’t answer for this.”

“I will. I'll be as discreet as possible and  won’t say a thing or raise a row, but now I feel I am going to have to help Fancy. And maybe even find the tantrum thrower. Where can he possibly have hidden himself?” sighed Uncle Gentlerain.

“Admit you want to find him because you are curious,” said Uncle Rich. “You want to learn how to hide as well as he has.”

“I want to find him because I have a conscience that has never allowed me to live in peace.”

“No!” said Richie. “You just can never leave things be.”

328. Two Worlds Vision Salve

328. Two Worlds Vision Salve

A week after having taken Mr. Binky to the Temple of Mayet, we all united again to accompany Pentafloris and her twins back to her seaside home. The Memorion himself offered to take us there in his ship, probably to make the occasion more solemn. Thus, if anyone got to know about this voyage, they would also know it had the blessing of AEternus’ memory.

It proved quite a pleasant and relaxing experience. The ocean blue bluer than it had ever been, the sky a lighter hue of blue too, baby blue, to match our mission. The regal ship, in contrast to its majestic look from afar, making us sneeze when below deck because of all the pepper Belvedere had scattered about to keep bugs away from the tons of books and archives that filled it to overflowing. Pepper had something to do with avoiding rust or mould too, from the humidity or something.   

“Sorry about that,” said the Memorion, “My suppliers had run out of peppercorns so I used pepper powder as a substitute. Probably a mistake. Most likely. I hope I remember not to do this again. Can I offer you all a drink?”

Despite his hopes, he seems to have been forgetting for centuries.

As we lazed on the deck lying on deck chairs and sipping piña coladas and being fanned by palm leaves and paypays moving on their own, we began to make small talk that I, Heather, think got larger than expected.  

“Poor Sunny,” sighed little Neferclari.

“But why do you say that?” I asked her.

“Because now he has got an evil twin.”

“No! Mr. Binky isn’t exactly evil. Only overbearing. And he isn’t a real twin.”  

“We’ve broken rules, haven’t we?” asked Neferclari. “Is that right?”

“We don’t exactly have rules, dear. We have conventions. Traditions, ideas about what is ethical and what is not. We may have been a little unconventional. But in what do you feel we’ve transgressed?” asked Uncle Gentlerain.

“Whoever is first to touch a baby has to keep it. Unless someone has seen it first and shouted a claim. Heather took the baby from the box. Shouldn’t she have to keep it?”

“It’s not exactly a baby,” I responded quickly. “It’s Mr. Binky suffering from a most unfortunate intoxication. I put him in that box, so I suppose it was right for me to be the one to draw him out. That doesn’t mean I have to keep him, does it?”

“He’s in his second childhood,” said Uncle Rich. “Are there rules about second childhoods and who gets stuck with the twiceborn kids?”

“Heather has kept him for like fifteen years. I think you’ve  more than done your bit, Heathie,” said Uncle Gentlerain. “We’ve all done what is best. It’s someone else I am worried about now.”   

“Fancy Feverfew. Am I right to think so?” Uncle Rich asked his brother.

“You are too, aren’t you? Don’t tell me she’s been in that cave since her late teens!”

“I am five years younger than you are and she is my age. So she must have entered that hole when she was nineteen. The year you disappeared.”

“I had nothing to do with that,” said Uncle Gentlerain. 

“Don’t be on the defensive. Of course you didn’t. It was…well, those were the disappearing years. A number of people chose to remove themselves from sight or just happened to. There was a scare about that. Most of those who had vanished reappeared in seven years. Some in seven hours. He disappeared too. But still for good.”

“Who are you talking about?” asked Beau.

Uncles Gentlerain and Richearth exchanged a look.

“Henbeddestyr’s half brother,” said Uncle Rich softly, as if he didn’t want to be overheard.

“Henny is a piece of cake,” said Uncle Gentlerain, “but his family is…sophisticated by comparison.”

“Don’t try to put it mildly. They are a bunch of self-important hysterics with egos that don’t fit in their heads and bump into everything when they move,” said Uncle Rich.

“Henny’s father is Ambivolo Parry. He lives in Italy and has children with a number of ladies. Not all at a time. Consecutively. One after the other,” said Uncle Gentlerain.

“But it’s not him that has disappeared, is it?” said Beau.

“Umbrian Silvervine is the person who did the disappering act. He is not safe to discuss,” said Uncle Gentlerain, “because he has this flaring temper. But since he has disappeared so definitely, it’s not likely he will storm in on us and bombard us with snakes and toads, for criticizing him, is it?”

“Disappeared or been made to,” whispered Uncle Rich. “The case is Umbrian was even more ambivalent than Ambivolo. He was like two people instead of one. A perfect gentleman one minute. And an enraged fiend the next.”

“It was not exactly that he was two different people. I think it was an irrational succesion of opinions that he had. I mean, he was okay with you and then, suddenly, you did something that he felt was an outrage. Usually, you had no idea what it was. And whereas up to that minute you had been a jolly good fellow in his opinion, you were suddenly an odious, undeserving lout. And from that moment on, one never knew where one stood with him.”

“A very difficult person to be around,” nodded Uncle Rich, “with a terrible temper. And then…what do you know? He laid eyes on Fancy Feverfew, the perfect example of a vocational do-gooder fairy.”

“It was the other way around, I think,” said Uncle Gentlerain. “She laid eyes on him and was enchanted.”

“Bewitched,” said Uncle Rich. “Though I will admit he was thought to be rather interesting to look at, I can’t help wondering  who hexed them. That relationship…it can’t have been natural. Opposites may attract, but no. There is no way this could have happened naturally.”

“He did feel flattered and responded well at first to her attentions,” said Uncle Gentie.   

“Too well,” said Uncle Rich. “I tell you, he was bewitched. He should have let her be. Someone as volatile as he was has no business toying with true love. That is supposed to be eternal.”

“Fancy was all sweetness and light,” explained Uncle Gent. “Curiously, she wasn’t easy to be around either, but for exactly the opposite reasons that it was difficult to be around Umbrian.”

“Cloying,” nodded Uncle Rich. “Too good to be good company. And nobody deserved her. In every sense of these words, good or bad.”

 “One has to admit Umbrian tried to please. Being liked by someone with such a great reputation for goodness sort of impressed him. To humor her, he tried his hand at doing good too. He did a couple of mortals a favor or two  when he went about with her and that made him feel good, I suppose. Good like he had never felt before. She was real pleased with him.”

“But?” asked Beau.

“It’s not easy for people to change.While the objects of his do-gooding were grateful and blessed him, and that made Fancy happy, well, well it went,” said Uncle Gent. “You know what went wrong better than I do, Richie. Do tell.”

“I don’t know the whole of it, but it sort of had to do with this mortal ignorant peasant woman who had a little child that was going blind. Umbrian and Fancy were celebrating their youth in a field rife with feverfew when that woman showed up. She wanted to gather some of those flowers to boil in water she meant to wash her kid’s eyes with. Now, Umbrian wasn’t the least bit interested in healing people, but he was Henny’s brother, so to please Fancy he took like two minutes of his precious time to procure from Hens’ apotheca a balm or an ointment or such that would restore the child’s eyesight. Unfortunately, being impatient and not wishing to wait till his brother was done with a client, he lifted the first thing he found that might do for his purpose and it turned out to not do only that. Umbrian made himself visible to the woman and gave her the eye salve he had made off with and told her she only had to apply it once on the child’s eyelids and that would cure the kid. She was to throw the remaining salve into a stream near her hut. Now, while Fancy was showing Umbrian how pleased she was with him for being so kind, the peasant woman went home. Before rubbing the salve on the child’s eyelids, she decided to try it on one of  her own, to be sure it was at least harmless. When she saw it had done her no apparent harm, she used it on the child and it worked its magic immediately. But like I said before, the salve didn’t just cure the child. A day later, this woman went to market to sell some beets and carrots and other nutrient-dense root vegetables she had taken the trouble to grow herself. So she spread a cloth on the ground and sat there in front of her basket of veggies and what did she see? She saw Umbrian barefacedly lifting all sorts of fruits and placing them carefully in a large basket of his own. Now Umbrian was only trying to be nice again, and he was preparing the basket for another charity case of his girlfriend’s. And he already had slipped some coins into the vendor’s purse, coins worth much more than the fruit he was taking, but the peasant woman hadn’t seen him pay. So, proving she was an ignorant fool, up she went and yelled ‘Stop, thief!´ at her benefactor.`What thief?’ asked the fruitseller, who couldn’t see Umbrian at all, because Umbrian was invisible to mortal eyes at that moment, but the salve the woman had rubbed on her eyes made her see what other mortals couldn’t,  because it was fairy medicine, made only  for fairy eyes, that Umbrian had unthinkingly given her. Two Worlds Vision Salve we call it. And Umbrian being as touchy as he was, flared up at being called a thief by an ungrateful person he had actually been kind to only the day before. So, without even blinking, he struck the woman utterly blind, thus proving that it is not safe for fairies and mortals to deal with each other, as our wise old folks say. And I imagine that Fancy was displeased with him for this and he with her for maybe rebuking him and not taking his side in his quarrel with the peasant woman with unwavering loyalty. And neither did Henny, who told his brother off for giving Two Worlds Vision Salve to a mortal without consulting him or anyone cunning first and I don’t know exactly what happened next, but Umbrian vanished from fay as well as mortal sight. And Fancy went into decay and began to say she’d been cursed and could no longer help anyone good, only bad people. And so I will end by saying again I don’t understand what Fancy and Umbrian saw in each other in the first place and how I suspect they were bewitched and there may be more to all this story than meets the naive eye.”

327. The Twin

327. The Twin

Uncle Rich and I, Heather, rushed to Fancy Feverfew’s dolmen. Beau and Uncle Gent arrived at the same time as we did.  And I barely noticed, so nervous was I, that little Neferclari was clinging to my skirt.

“Oh, dear!” said the white kitten, turning into the fay child this Atshebie really was.  “I didn’t mean to tear your dress! My nails.”

“That’s alright,” I said. “Why didn’t you say you wanted to come, honey?”

“I did. But you and Great Uncle Richie were so nervous you didn’t hear me.”

The truth was we were all nervous. Except maybe for Uncle Gent, who, I think, already had an idea what he would  find.

“Fancy Feverfew!  It’s Gentlerain!  Remember me? We’re here to help!” he shouted into the cave.

“It’s that man they stuck in here!”  Fancy shouted back.

“Is he still in there?”

“In here, yes. But a man no longer.”

“He’s a child now, isn’t he?” said my uncle.

“Worse. He’s a baby. If he doesn’t wake, he might disappear. That can happen, can’t it?”

“I have no idea. But there have been rumours.”

“Are you going to slap his ass to wake him like the humans do, Gentie?” asked Uncle Rich.

“No way I am doing that!” said Uncle Gent. 

But before more could be said, Fancy pushed the glass and gold coffin out of the dolmen. And being thus shoved, poor Mr. Binky awoke, and went “Wahhhhh!”  Then, with his eyes wide open, he shrank one last time.

“Oh, by Og! He is going to need parents!” said Uncle Rich.

“Don’t you volunteer, Richie,” said Uncle Gent.

“If you want him for yourself, I can understand  that. I have three sons as well as three daughters. You have two daughters. That’s much less than me. He’s yours! It’s only fair.”

“Fate forbid!” cried Uncle Gentlerain.

I was already drawing Mr. Binky out of the coffin, freeing him from the enormous clothes he was almost smothering himself among. I wrapped him up in his now enormous shirt.

“I don’t think Mungo would want me for a father. It would be humilliating. I would feel awful if this happened in reverse. I mean, I wouldn’t want a Binky to be my father. And this one yet! With the problems we’ve had. ”

“He would give you a weekly allowance and make you pay taxes out of that,” nodded Uncle Richearth. “You would have to defy him like you did our daddy.”

“I didn’t defy anyone. I tried to reason with AEternus.”

“Not a good idea,” said Uncle Rich, shaking his head vehemently.  “AEternus can’t be reasoned with. He knows everything and is mysterious in his ways. A very difficult combination. Were you unhappy among us, Gentie? Wildgale sometimes resented me a little.”

“No. And neither was Wildie. That must have come later. I think we all got along just fine. The usual fraternal spats now and then, not more than normal.”

“Still, if having two parents is trying, having three must be worse.”

“Four. No. Divina was wonderful. Warm and loving and amusingly crazy. She always treated me like I needed her to. Celestial was almost as unreasonable as AEternus. I say almost because she never asked me to disown him. Excelsius told me he would be anything I wanted him to be to me. He never gave me any problems. I did get a little sad when I had to leave  you all to go up north every New Year’s Eve, but once there, Celestial kept me so busy I had no time to think. I learned a lot. No time to think, but curiously, to think for myself was the best thing I learned there. Even if she was dominating, she never mentioned AEternus. Never asked me to give him up and stay with her all year. When I had to go, she packed my things up in silence. And I went. I think she knew I would not give her up either. Maybe I secretly enjoyed being fought over. Being important enough for that. As for AEternus, when I told him off, I was almost seven, and it was about the poisoned garden. Most fay kids leave home at seven. So when he told  me not to try to intimidate him and that I could leave if I wanted to, I didn’t take him seriously. I never have. I knew I wouldn’t move too far off and I didn’t.He knew it too.  I was home by day and helping our mother like Celestial had taught me to. At night, I would sleep in the boathouse. I knew he would pretend not to know I was there. ”

 “In the boathouse? I offered to share my room with you. Do you remember that I did?”

“Of course I do. Sobbing and all because you thought he had kicked me out. And he saying I was making everyone feel awful. That was kind of you, Richie. Evenfall lent me his ship, a little yacht he had,  And there I slept. Until I married Mabelle.”

“And your brothers up north were as nice to you as we were?”

“Celestial told them from day one that she could only spend half the time she spent with them with me, so she would be twice as nice to me as she was to them. I don’t think she mattered as much to them as she did to me, so they weren’t jealous. Only boring. They had no interest in sewing or weaving or making cider. Or even beer. Practice fighting and watching the horizon. That took up most of their time.”

“You learned to fight too?”

“Like a fiend. It came in handy when I fled to the preventionists.”    

I was cuddling Baby Binky when I suddenly heard a scream.

“PEDUBASTIS! HELP ME!”    

I almost dropped the baby.

“What is it, dearie?” Uncle Gentlerain asked Neferclari, quite alarmed.

“You don’t listen to me! I have to give you the solution to your problem!” she exclaimed, but very softly. She does always speak very softly.

And then Pedubastis appeared.

“They don’t listen to me!” protested Neferclari, much affected. “They aren’t solving anything. They are just talking and talking about their childhood or old times. I can’t get a word in. I can’t do this!”

“Well, great uncles tend to get sentimental about the past. But you are about to do your bit! You yelled for me and that attracted their attention.You have it now. So say your say.”

Pedubastis took Mr. Binky from my arms and little Neferclari said, “Pedubastis and my uncle  Arley spoke at dawn. And he spoke to the Mr. Memorion person who said that Pedubastis was right and we could give this baby to Penny Glassywave, who is still at the Temple of Mayet and can say she has had twins instead of just one kid when she returns with her parents, the beach bums.”

“Penny who?” said Uncles Richearth and Gentlerain in unison.

Pedubastis then explained to these gentlemen who Pentafloris Glassywave was. And what her parents were like, and how she’d had a baby with a human who no longer had anything to do with her. They looked at each other and nodded.

“If my father-in-law says this will be okay…” said Uncle Gent.

“Alright, let’s do it. So we might be kidnapping Mungo, but fairies do that, don’t they?” said Uncle Richearth. “Abduct people. I know a lot about being kidnapped. But only as a victim. It’s not as bad as it sounds. Well, not always. Sometimes yes. But we will be doing right by this kid.”

“I would normally never do this, but Mungo’s family didn’t think much of him. They’ve showed no interest in him for like fifteen  years, possibly even never,  and who knows why they want him back now?”

“Those people exploit humans,” said Uncle Rich. “Obie says maybe guilt is why Mungo Johnny was so obsessed with them. A family of sea bums couldn’t be more different from the one he had. Maybe he will be happier with this new one.”

“In any case, we´ll hide him among them until he can reason.”

“You think he ever did?”

“I mean, until he knows what he wants. He’s spent  years lying in a coffin. Spending seven more years now living by the sea can’t be that awful.”

“By golly, we are doing this! Can I be the one to steal him and give him to Penny? I’ve never kidnapped anyone. And I thought I would be bored to death today.”

“Neither of you is going to do anything, gentlemen,” said Pedubastis. “The temple will do it for you. I will take the child to the temple and give it to Penny. That way I can say I found the baby by itself and nobody will be able to hold anyone responsible.”   

“Why is everyone more sensible than I am?” Uncle Rich asked Pedubastis.

She shook her head and we all went to the Temple of Mayet. Yes, all of us, because Uncles Richie and Gentie said provision had to be made for the baby and also for Penny’s possibly human child.

“Possibly human means possibly mortal,” said Neferclari. Everyone was very careful to listen to the child now. Uncle Gent even had her sitting on his shoulders so he would be sure to.  “When are we finally going to know if he is mortal or isn’t? When he suddenly drops dead?”

Uncle Rich and Uncle Gent looked at each other. Uncle Rich nodded.

“Tell her,” he said.  

“He can’t be left alone,” explained Uncle Gent. “The kids of a  fay mother and a mortal man can be very gifted and have all sorts of special abilities, but that doesn’t mean they can’t turn into ghosts without the least warning. Somebody has to be there to save them from this fate when it is about to come about.”

“Even when they are adults?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Uncle Gent. “Just eating our food doesn’t guarantee immortality. That’s why we ask them not to visit the mortal world. Especially unaccompanied. That is where they are most likely to drop dead, all of a sudden, unless  one of us notices something is wrong and hauls them back to fairyland and stuffs food in their mouths in time. Otherwise, they die in a heartbeat. But in the worst of cases they become ghosts, Clari, so it’s not as definite a parting as it sounds.”

“This Penny is kind of cute, isn’t she?” said Uncle Rich to Uncle Gentlerain when we saw Penny.

“Oh, Richie!” said Uncle Gentlerain shaking his head.

“I only meant Mungo will have a pretty mother. Young and happy-looking.”

“Happy-go-lucky, most likely,” muttered Uncle Gent, “but if Belvedere says she will do…”

Pedubastis  had already spoken with Penny and they had reached an agreement and all Uncle Gent had to do was give Penny the coat with a pocket that is always full of gold coins she had a right to, even if she wasn’t going to live in Apple Island. He also gave her two wee coats, just like hers, but tiny, and told her not to give them to the kids until they were seven, though he would drop by her hut by the sea to see how things were going now and again. And she was to call if she needed anything.   

“His name is Mungo John,” said Uncle Richie to Penny. “But since he’s to be in hiding and live incognito, I think you should call him something different.”

“This one is Sunny,” said Penny, pointing at her son. “So maybe I should call this other one Moony.”

“As long as he doesn’t turn into a lunatic,” said Uncle Richie.

“Don’t go into that now,” said Uncle Gent. “Everything will work out fine. The Mnemosinite himself says so. At the first sign of a problem, you call me. I already said that, Penny.”

326. No Cause for Alarm

326. No Cause for Alarm

“I admit I am all for revenge. I find it useful.  Sometimes. Dissuasive vengeance. But don’t think your uncle isn’t for it. You haven’t noticed, but he has already taken a pinch of it. He said he has set the vultures to spying on your daddy,” Beau was thinking for me to know.

“Daddy deserves that and more,” I thought. “And it is a good alternative to having the vultures spy on you and me, Beau. He is better at defending himself, isn’t he? And they won’t find anything because he isn’t hiding anything. Do you think Daddy is aware he is being spied on?”

“How can a vulture spy on one discreetly? Still, the Pinkheads are not just the average vultures. And very experimented when it comes to seizing what they want they are.”

Before Beau or I could think more, there was a soft knock on the door to the dining room. We all turned to see who it was that had announced presence and there stood a soaking wet, small but distinguished old gentleman  with graying lavender blue hair and glasses that I had never seen before.

“Good evening, Papá!” Mabelle welcomed him, and I knew this was Belvedere the Mnemosinite, also known as the Memorion because  he was my grandfather´s memory.

“I am wetting your floor. As I often do. I always get wet when I fall into the sea.  And I am falling into it with increasing frequency. I keep forgetting to open my wings when I jump from my ship.”

He lived in a ship. I knew that. Arley had told me this.

“Your mind is on other things, dear,” said Mabelle. “Gentie, introduce your  father-in-law to everyone.”

“He knows who everyone is, and now everyone here knows who he is too. So just say hail and well met or plain hi, everybody.”

“I’ve come as soon as possible. Which is why I jumped into the sea. It’s not midnight, is it? Now, I have to tell you that tomorrow  at noon you will receive by sparrow a rather alarming message from Fancy Feverfew.”

“And Fancy is, sir?” asked Beau.

“The Voice From Within the Dolmen,” said Uncle Gentlerain.

“Oh, my! We should go see what is alarming her right now,” I said, getting up from where I was sitting.

“No, no, no! Don’t anybody move! Fancy won’t know what will alarm her until tomorrow morning. You can sleep tight all night and rest properly so as to be ready to be frightened tomorrow. Except you needn’t be, because I am telling you right now you’ll get there in time to calm her down,” said Belvedere. “I’d like to sit down, but I would wet the chair, Gentlerain. It would be a pity. They’re very pretty. Are they new?”

“You sit on them every night and it never matters,” said Uncle Gent, “because these chairs I bought when I fixed the house and changed the furniture and I chose them waterproof.”

“Oh. Topsy! You think of everything, lad. I think you’ve told me this before. You have, haven’t you? Yes. I distinctly remember this perfectly now,” said Belvedere. And he walked  himself to a chair on sealegs. And he sat down. And he didn’t wet it at all. The water just stayed on him.

It was not midnight, but it was rather late, and Uncle Gentlerain walked us home. Arley stayed with Mabelle and the Memorion, who was about to have dinner because Granny Milksops reminded him that it was convenient to eat once in a while, even if you were fay. But before that, Mabel asked him, "Papá why are you wearing a moustache? You never do." "Am I? I have no idea. And it isn't even November," he answered. And, with his magic, he removed it, and tidied up, changed his clothes and combed his hair in an instant and I thought he looked a lot better.

The next morning I awoke hearing through my bedroom window a conversation between Uncle Richearth and Sylvan Marsh and Oliver Mallow of the Candid Candied Moon Gardening Center and Nursery.

                        

“When we work non stop for hours, grass grows out of our  ears and nostrils,” the gardeners were saying. “We have to trim it before we step on it.Or pull it out, so it won’t get in our way. Like caught in the lawnmower, you know.”

“Ouch! No offence meant, but I’m glad that doesn’t happen to me,” said Uncle Rich. “Does it hurt much when you tear that grass off?”

“Nah! Tedious it gets, yes. But we’re used to it and we take it in stride.”

When ready, I went outside and said hi to these three and congratulated the gardeners on the great job they had done. My garden was back to normal, but with a special glow,  like when you wipe the dust off something pretty. I invited Uncle Rich and Marsh and Mallow to breakfast but the boys said they had to go and left.

“What I don’t understand is why you didn’t call me, Heathie,” said Uncle Richie. “I could have fixed this place for you.”

“I didn’t call anyone. They showed up. But you would have left my garden looking fifty times more grand and palatial than it ever was. Too much really, Uncle Richie. This is more modest. Like me.”

“We’ve been comparing  notes, the green  elves and I, and they do have it tougher than I do. Takes them more time and effort. By the way, I’m here because my kids told me all about the…the… well, what you swore them to silence about.”

“I was sure they would tell you.”

“They do blab, yes. Actually, I think they don’t even know what silence means, so they can’t even have known what they were promising. It’s not that I am trying to excuse them. It’s that they are awful noisy. I had no idea kids could be so scandalous. I mean, I was a kid once myself, but I don’t remember shouting like to bust eardrums.Well, I’m here to help. I know…more about this affair than you do. I’m acquainted with…well, the person you don’t know from a troglodyte. Was it the troglodytes that built… the you know what.”

“In a couple of hours I will receive an alarming message from this person,” I said. “The Memorion told me I didn’t have to worry about anything.”

“Nevertheless, I mean  to be of help.The Memorion. Maybe he meant I would be here and that’s why you need not worry. That man, Heathie, he does more for my daddy than even I do, really. Because he is always at it. And he barely remembers anything that has to do with himself or the life he doesn’t have, only what is important for your Grandpa to know. That down to the last detail. I feel terrible for him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. It is his job to see to it that AEternus can keeep things under control. Not just here on the island. But everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. All the time. We don’t give much trouble, the islanders here. We bicker and brawl a lot among us, but the blood never flows to any of our rivers. For instance, my brothers and I, and our northern cousins, we have this lousy reputation, like that we are fatuous fiends because  we sometimes do awful things to each other, but we never go too far. Neither in doing nor in resenting. Because we know it is in no one’s best interest. We start trouble, but we know how and when to stop it. Imagine, if I were to defy Daddy and have the misfortune to win and overthrow him, I would have made a misery of my life. I would have to do everything he does so we could all live in relative peace instead of just walking around my plantation singing now and again. And I don’t see myself playing golf and chess so as not to go crazy, and then paying attention to the Memorion so I can remember what I have to do. To Uncle Belvedere. We don’t even call him that, because he never has much contact with anyone except his sisters and his daughter and of course Grandpa since way before I was born. ”

“I’m glad to hear you all can control yourselves,” I said. “I get very upset when I see people quarrel. Like when Grandpa pretends not to know who Uncle Gentlerain is. And Uncle Gent teases him.”

“Poor Gentie. He is the only one of us who has ever really stood up to Daddy, but not to supplant him or anything terrible like that. Only to try to reason with him. Just because he didn’t want to have to choose between his mothers. That’s the root of their tiff. He learned all sorts of things from Aunt Celestial, Gentie did. Especially how to be independent.  And Daddy hates that. He lets people do as they please, but he doesn’t like it when they don’t do what he would rather they would do. Not that poor Gentie ever does anything wrong. In fact, it’s that he does everything right. And this makes him look like he might be better than everyone else. And who can like that?”

And Uncle Rich said that though my garden was lovely, there were a few flowers he had recently invented and he felt I ought to have them in my garden, so we toured it all, and it is a big garden, so there was room for more flowers in it and he put them here and there.

Bluebeards, tenderhearts, citric pink garlic, Venetian mirrors and a few more. Yes, they were splendid.

“The only one of my kids to take an interest in plants is Crown of Roses," said Uncle Rich.  “She always watches me when I am creating a new flower. And she claps politely when I have. And if she loves the new flower, she flies up and kisses the tip of my nose, poor little thing. She will be little always, you know. Ghost children don’t grow up. Not unless they reincarnate and make it to adulthood in their new life. I have a horror of the idea that she might want to do that one day. But it also makes me sad to think she will always be a baby and all she will be able to do is observe our world.”

And then the Atshebies  came over to play at their dollhouse, that was once at what used to be Cathsheba’s Nook in Minced Forest,  and was now in my garden, and Uncle Rich played hide and seek with them. And thus we spent the morning until my sparrow Wilbert showed up and dropped on the palm of my hand a note he bore in his little beak.

I’m horrified! Something awful is happening here. And I don’t understand what is. There is no one here but me to deal with this. Please come as soon as you can.

That was what the note from Fancy Feverfew said.

“It does sound alarming, yes, the note does,” said Uncle Rich. “I’m so glad it isn’t going to be a real problem we have here.”