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His sour humor got a few titters from sympathetic souls around the table: Nyritta Maku, Skippelwit, one or two others. But Neabas still had further questions. And he was deadly serious:
“What was Carrion’s condition?” he wanted to know.
“He was very badly wounded. I thought he was going to die.”
“But he didn’t die?”
“Not on the bed, no.”
“Somewhere close by, you’re implying?”
“I only know what I saw.”
“And what was that?”
“Well . . . the window burst open, and all this water rushed in. It carried him away. That was the last time I saw him. Disappearing into the dark water, and then gone.”
“Are you satisfied, Neabas?” Jimothi said.
“Almost,” came the reply. “Just tell us all, without any lies or half-truths, what you believe the real reason for Carrion’s interest in you was?”
“I already said: I don’t know.”
“She’s right,” Jimothi reminded his fellow Councilors. “Now we’re going around in circles. I say enough.”
“I have to agree,” Skippelwit remarked. “Though I, like Neabas, yearn for the good old days, when we could have left her with Yeddik Magash for a while. I don’t have any problem with using someone like Magash if the situation really calls for it.”
“Which this doesn’t,” Jimothi said.
“On the contrary, Jimothi,” Neabas said. “There is going to be One Last Great War—”
“How do you know that?” Jimothi said.
“Just accept it. I know what the future looks like. And it’s grim. The Izabella will be bloodred from Tazmagor to Babilonium. I do not exaggerate.”
“And this will be all her fault?” Helio Fatha said. “Is that what you’re implying?”
“All?” Neabas said. “No. Not all. There are ten thousand reasons why a war is bound to come eventually. Whether it will be the last war is . . . shall we say . . . open to speculation. But whether it is or isn’t, it’s going to be a disastrous conflict, because it comes with so many questions unanswered, many of them—maybe most, maybe all—are associated with this girl. Her presence has raised the heat under a simmering pan. And now it will quickly boil. Boil and burn.”
What do I say to that? Candy silently asked Boa.
As little as possible, Boa told her. Let him be the aggressor if that’s the game he wants to play. Just pretend you’re cool and sophisticated instead of some girl who was dragged up out of nowhere.
You mean act more like a Princess? Candy replied, unable to keep the raw displeasure from her thoughts.
Well, as you put it that way . . . the Princess said.
As I put it that way what?
Yes. I suppose I do mean more like me.
Well, you keep thinking that, Candy said.
Let’s not get into an argument about it. We both want the same thing.
And what’s that?
To keep Yeddik Magash from taking us into a sealed room.
“So, if anyone has insight into Carrion’s nature, it’s our guest. Isn’t that right, Candy? May I call you Candy? We’re not your enemies, you do know that?”
“Funny, that’s not the impression I get,” Candy replied. “Come on. No more stupid games. You all think I was conspiring with him, don’t you?”
“Conspiring to do what?” Helio Fatha said.
“How would I know?” Candy said. “I didn’t do it.”
“We’re not fools, girl,” said Zuprek, reentering the exchange with his tone now nakedly combative. “Nor are we without informants. You can’t keep the company of someone like Christopher Carrion without drawing attention to yourself.”
“Are you telling me that you were spying on us?”
Zuprek allowed a phantom smile to haunt his stone face. “How interesting,” he said softly. “I sniff guilt.”
“No, you don’t,” Candy told him. “It’s just irritation you can smell. You had no right to be watching me. Watching us. You’re the Grand Council of the Abarat and you’re spying on your own citizens?”
“You’re not a citizen. You’re a nobody.”
“That was just vicious, Zuprek.”
“She’s mocking us. Do any of you see that? She intends to be the death of us, so she mocks.”
There was a long silence. Finally somebody said, “We’re done with this interview. Let’s move on.”
“I agree,” Jimothi said.
“She told us nothing, you dumb cat!” Helio yelled.
Jimothi sprang up off his chair and onto his haunches in one smooth motion.
“You know my people are closer to beasts than some of you others,” he said. “Maybe you should remember that. I can smell a lot of fear in this room right now . . . a lot.”
“Jimothi . . . Jimothi!” Candy stepped in the Cat King’s line of sight. “Nobody’s been hurt. It’s all right. There’s just some people here with no respect for those who are a little different.”
Jimothi stared through Candy not hearing her, it seemed, or listening to anything she was saying. His claws curled into the table and raked the polished wood.
“Jimothi . . .”
“I have such high regard for the visitor. I admit that predisposes me to think well of her, but if I genuinely believed she would be—as Zuprek put it—‘the death of us’ there is no sentiment in the Abarat that would make me merciful.”
“Well then, Zuprek,” Nyritta said. “I think it falls to you to prove or not to prove.”
“Forget proof,” Neabas said. “This isn’t about proof. It’s about faith. We who have faith in the future of the Abarat must act to protect it. Sometimes we will be criticized for our decisions—”
“You’re talking about the camps,” Nyritta said.
“I don’t approve of the girl hearing us discussing the camps,” Zuprek said. “It’s none of her business.”
“What does it matter?” Helio said. “People already know.”
“It’s time we discussed this,” Jimothi said. “Commexo is building one on Ninnyhammer, but nobody asks questions. Nobody cares as long as the Kid keeps telling them everything’s perfect.”
“Don’t you support the camps, Jimothi?” Nyritta said.
“No, I do not.”
“Why not?” said Yobias. “Your family line is perfectly pure. Look at you. Purebred Abaratian.”
“So what?”
“You’d be perfectly safe. We all would.”
Candy sniffed something of significance here, but she kept her tone as casual as possible, despite the sickening feeling she had in the pit of her stomach. “Camps?”
“It’s nothing to do with you,” Nyritta snapped. “You shouldn’t even be hearing these things.”
“You make it sound like they’re something you’re ashamed of,” Candy said.
“You’re reading something into my words that’s not there.”
“Okay. So you’re not ashamed.”
“Absolutely not. I’m simply doing my duty.”
“I’m glad you’re proud,” Jimothi jumped in, “because one day we may need to answer for every decision we’ve done. This interrogation, the camps. Everything.” He was staring down at his paws. “If this goes bad they’ll need necks for nooses. And they’ll be ours. It should be ours. We all knew what we were doing when we started this.”
“Scared for your neck, are you, Jimothi?” said Zuprek.
“No,” Jimothi said. “I’m scared for my soul, Zuprek. I’m afraid I will lose it because I was too busy making camps for Pure-bloods.”
Zuprek uttered a grinding growl, and started to get up from the table, his hands closed into fists.
“No, Zuprek,” Nyritta Maku said, “this meeting is at a close.” She threw an aside at Candy. “Go, child. You’re dismissed!”
“I haven’t finished with her!” Zuprek yelled.
“This committee has!” Maku said. This time she pushed Candy toward the door. “Go!”
It was already open. Candy glanced back at Jimothi, grateful for all he had done. Then she headed away through the door while Zuprek’s cries echoed off the Chamber walls:
“She’ll be the death of us!”
Chapter 3 The Wisdom of the Mob (#ulink_84b08c75-0754-53dc-9e00-803eee422df0)
CANDY FOUND MALINGO WAITING for her among the crowd outside the Council Chambers. The look of relief that flooded his face when she emerged was almost worth the discomfort of the highly unpleasant interview. She did her best to hurriedly explain all that she’d just endured.
“But they’ve let you go?” he said when she was finished.
“Yeah,” Candy said. “You thought they were going to throw me in jail?”
“It crossed my mind. There’s no love for the Hereafter, that’s for sure. Just listening to people passing by . . .”
“And the worst is still to come,” Candy said.
“Another war?”
“That’s what the Council thinks.”
“Abarat against the Hereafter? Or Night against Day?”
Candy caught a few suspicious glances coming her way. “I think we should continue this conversation somewhere else,” she said. “I don’t want any more interrogations.”
“Where do you want to go?” Malingo said.
“Anywhere, as long as it’s away from here,” Candy said. “I don’t want to have any more questions thrown at me until I’ve got all the answers straight.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?”
Candy threw Malingo an uneasy glance.
“Say it,” he said. “Whatever it is you’ve got on your mind.”
“I’ve got a Princess on my mind, Malingo. And now I know she’s been there since the day I was born. It changes things. I thought I was Candy Quackenbush from Chickentown, Minnesota. And in a way I was. I lived an ordinary life on the outside. But on the inside, in here,” she said, putting her finger to her temple, “I was learning what she knew. That’s the only explanation that makes sense. Boa learned magic from Carrion. And then I took it from her and hid it.”
“But you’re saying that aloud right now.”
“That’s because she knows now. There’s no use to play hide-and-seek, not for either of us. She’s in me, and I know it. And I’ve got everything she knows about the Abarataraba. And she knows that.”
I would have done the same thing, I don’t doubt, Boa said. But I think it’s time we parted.
“I agree.”
“With what?” Malingo said.
“I was talking to Boa. She wants her freedom.”
“Can’t blame her,” Malingo said.
“I don’t,” Candy said. “I just don’t know where to start.”
