Blood & Flowers (8 page)

“That was so strange,” she said, more to herself than to me. “You didn't feel that, did you?”

“Since I don't know what you're talking about, probably no,” I said.

“Huh,” Floss said. “Oh, well.”

When she didn't say anything more I asked, “And the thing I was supposed to feel?”

Floss shrugged. “It felt like a presence from Faerie just walked through the room. Or passed by outside. Somewhere close to us, at least. It was dim, almost as if it was wearing a mask, but it definitely felt fey.”

“Floss,” I said carefully, “I don't think I'm your best bet to spy masked fey presences.”

She shrugged again. “Why not?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Maybe you have me confused with Lucia?”

“Of course not.” Floss waved her hand in a dismissive gesture and black paint floated off her brush and landed on the floor in a kanji design. “You're as sensitive as anyone else.”

This was news to me, but before I could question her, Floss said, “If it
was
fey and it
was
masked it could be for any number of reasons. People come and go on a regular basis, and not all of them want to be seen. Or felt, if it comes to that.” She twisted her fish and looked at the other eye. “I've noticed things like this before,” she added. “Nothing comes of it…usually.”

Usually. Not reassuring. But maybe I was just being paranoid. Still. “Usually?” I repeated.

Floss brushed the koi's eye with shadow, then held the fish up for inspection. I walked behind her and stared at it, nose to nose. “Beautiful,” I said. “And—usually?”

She shook her head. “Persia, we've got so many things to worry about right now. Let's not add something that has a high probability of being nothing.”

And because she was Floss, and she knew about fey, I decided to go along with her. Because, after all, if she'd felt this before and there hadn't been any repercussions, why worry now? As Floss said, we had enough other things to deal with.

One of those things was that there was more and more street news about dust and drinks. There still weren't any that we knew of at our performances, though, and if there were, we knew for certain that we weren't supplying. We shoved that news off into the corner too, the corner occupied by the unnamed fey presence.

As far as we could tell, there wasn't a connection between any of this—masked presences, dust, or drinks—and Tonio and the subpoena. It caused me to
breathe deep when I realized that fact, and it felt like the first calm, deep breath I'd taken since I last talked to Knobbe III. Then I remembered our legal issues and I went back to little, shallow breaths, the kind that never seemed to get enough air into my lungs.

The one good thing that happened was actually a nonevent. None of us saw Major at all.

The court date, though? That still kept coming, stalking toward us like Lucia in her chicken suit. Big slapping steps, loud and forceful.

Nicholas pulled me aside one afternoon and said, “Persia, I'm getting desperate. I've looked through every damn thing I can find and I can't see any way to keep Tonio from having to go to court. I was sure I'd find some neat, tricky little loophole, but right now this seems so tight. I don't know what to do next.”

I put on my happy face, just like donning a mask, and said, “They can't really prove anything, can they? It's all so nebulous, isn't it? It'll turn out okay, won't—”

Nicholas stopped my babbling questions by saying, “What the hell are you talking about? Of course they
can prove something. Even if it's not true, I'm pretty sure Major's got all his witnesses lined up and ready to go.”

“But if they lie, that's perjury, isn't it? That's unlawful too, right? I mean—”

“Persia.” He sounded desperate. “Stop talking in questions. And think before you open your mouth.”

Third time in recent history that I'd been told that. It was sort of cosmic, really.

“But Nicholas—”

“No. Stop. Here's what you need to do. Go see Knobbe Three. Get his take on the news on the street.”

I started to say something, but he shook his head and just kept talking. “I know you already talked to him. Do it again. He knows everything. See if there have been any changes.”

When I still stood there, not moving, he reached out and caught my hand in his. “Please, Persia? I need help. I feel like everyone's waiting for me to pull something magic out of the air, and I can't. I'm not Floss. I'm not even Lucia. I'm a dumb student. I'm
trying to apply everything I've learned, and none of it's working.”

I wrapped my other hand around his, a three-hand clasp. “You're not dumb” was the first thing out of my mouth.

Nicholas almost laughed. “I wasn't compliment fishing.”

“I know. It's just important that you know that.”

He cleared his throat, but I didn't wait for him to talk. “I'll go see Knobbe Three,” I said, and I walked out the door.

“H
ello, Knobbe Three,” I said. I was quiet, walking on pins, talking in whispers.

Knobbe III nodded and his eyes traveled through the store. It was crowded, people hunched in all the little nooks and crannies. I wasn't comfortable asking questions, not with all those ears around.

I said, “Big run on stationery today?” which made him grin.

“Letter Writers Anonymous conference in town,” he said, and he smiled again.

“What a good thing I bought my calling cards last week.”

Three people came up to the counter. In quick
succession Knobbe sold one journal, four sheets of gold wrapping paper trimmed with green baby rabbits, two calligraphy pens, a set of paper and envelopes in pumpkin orange, and a rubber stamp that looked like it said, “Eyes are for lying.” I stood off to one side and I waited.

When the foot traffic had cleared I said, “So, what's the word on the street?”

“Depends on which word you're looking for.”

“
The Bastard and the Beauty
?” I prompted.

Knobbe III stopped smiling. “How's the box office doing?”

“Fine.” I was cautious.

“It's possible that may not continue.”

“Very oblique, Knobbe.”

He shrugged. “No. Not really. Word on the street isn't all that great. And it's got nothing to do with the actuality of
The Bastard and the Beauty
.”

I tried not to bite my lip. “Is it worse than it was the last time we talked?”

A little struggle walked across his face before he said, “Only the illegal substances part. The magic
stories are still there, but they don't seem to be escalating. Those colored drinks and pixie dust, though—people seem to love those. I saw some graffiti just yesterday. ‘Get high free at
B&B
.'”

I said, “Grr,” which made him nod.

“Some of the drinks are turning purple now, and blue. Just to—you know—liven things up.”

Purple and blue. Like Nicholas had said, everyone knew that the tougher the drug the deeper the color. Pink was bad enough to get a subpoena. Red was nastier, but still on the top, the safer end of the spectrum. Purple and blue, though—those colors would make it that much easier to make a case.

All of this must have been plain to read on my face, because Knobbe held out his hand, an imprinted button nestled in his palm. “A little something for the road.”

I picked up the smooth white button. I read the etched black word on its face and I smiled. “Outlaws?” Then Knobbe's words caught up with me. “For the road?”

“You never know. And we're all on a road to somewhere.”

“I suppose that's a certainty,” I muttered.

I pinned the button to my shirt, making sure it was directly over my heart. Then I reached out and brushed my fingertips against his. “Thanks, Knobbe Three,” I said, and I went back out onto the street.

 

Nicholas was sitting on the thick, concrete steps when I got back, framed by the porch railings and the front door lintel. Casual as a Saturday afternoon, at least at first glance. At second glance he was a lot more like rush hour on a Monday morning. When he saw me coming down the street he sat up straight and looked anxiously hopeful. I tried to look the same way, but I think he carried it off much better than I.

I got close enough that he could read my button. “Outlaws?” he asked.

“It's a present. From Knobbe.”

“Depending on interpretation, that could be nice.”

“Yeah, depending. He says it's for the road.” I sat down next to him.

Nicholas dropped his head. If I'd been behind him, it would have looked like he'd been cut off at
the neck. “That bad, huh?” He breathed out hard and looked at me sideways. “Crap, Persia. What are we going to do?”

I bounced a little on my step, agitated. “You're asking me? Why don't you ask someone who might know? Floss. Or Max. You'd probably get a better answer out of Lucia, even.”

He looked at me then, looked for what seemed like a long time, and then said, “No, I wouldn't. It's pretty much you and me right now. Floss is upset about that message she got from Faerie. Lucia's trying to be strong, but you know how she can flip to fragile. Max is all wrapped up in Tonio, and Tonio's either just fine or having a nice, quiet nervous breakdown. I never know which. We've got a subpoena saying we're passing out drugs in public places and using magic on top of that.

“As long as we're at the theater, we're fine. There we can take anything in stride. Take us out of that environment and we fall apart.” He sighed and, trying to sound movie-star tough, repeated, “It's you and me, kid.” And he grinned a sad, weak little grin.

“Nicholas, I'm not good at stuff like this.”

He stood up. He stared down. Way down. Why hadn't I realized how tall he was? After all, I'd known him a long time. He said, “You'd better get good at it, then. Fast. I need help. You and I are what we've got.”

I stood up too, right next to him, on the same step. Not so tall after all. “I think it needs to be a group effort. Right now that's my best contribution. We need to plan, and the hell with all the problems. And the hell with them expecting you to save us. That's not fair, not any more fair than you expecting me to know the answer.”

I took his hand and pulled. “Let's go inside and get this thing started.”

Nicholas huffed out a little laugh. “See? I knew I picked the right person.” And he squeezed my hand.

I just tugged a little harder. We walked into the apartment, our hands still pressed tight together. In spite of everything, that warmth of his palm against mine felt very good.

I could see right away that Nicholas had given me a good synopsis of the situation. We didn't even look
like a group at this point. More like random people you'd run across in a park or, worse, in a bus station waiting room. Everyone was scattered, each wrapped in his or her own thoughts, each staked out in different areas of different rooms.

“Oh,” I said.

Nicholas breathed out a little puff of air and said, “Yeah.”

Someone had to do something or we'd drift apart like Floss's paper flowers. I glanced at Nicholas, who shook his head and shrugged.

I squared my shoulders and took one deep breath. “All right,” I said, loud enough that they could hear me no matter where they were. “I've made a decision.”

No one even looked our way.

“I knew you'd be excited,” I said. “And here it is. No more negative thoughts.”

Heads came up and eyes looked at me—flat, dull eyes. Then they turned back to the fascinating floors or tables in front of them. It didn't look like peppy talk was the right approach.

I picked the least sad-looking person in the
apartment. “Lucia,” I said, “what do you think we need to do?”

Her eyes went straight to mine, almost as if she'd been waiting for a chance to tell us her plan. “Go to work. Do a great show. Then leave.”

From the other side of the room Floss coughed. “And go where?”

“Faerie,” Lucia said. There was no room for discussion in her calm, one-word statement.

“You know—,” Floss began, but Lucia cut her off. Surprises every day.

“So they said no. So you're sad. You probably feel betrayed. But this is more important than that. We need to help Tonio. And going is all I can think of. We'll find a way to make things work when we get there. It's not easy when you've been hurt,” Lucia finished in a new, quiet voice, “but you can do it.”

“Scary corner-of-the-eye creatures,” Floss said. “Remember? And Reginald?”

Lucia breathed deep and said, “If we're together, things will be fine.” She nodded, then added, “It's being together that's important.”

I looked at Lucia with respect. She was right, and she'd been so clear. Not my “no negative thoughts,” not Nicholas's precedents, not Floss's flower messages. Lucia had just made a plain, straight decision. And then Max stood up, tall and strong, and he said, “Yes. Absolutely right. It's being together.” He smiled—a small smile but a better smile than I'd seen since this mess started. “Let's go to work, let's knock them out of their seats, let's disappear.” He looked at Tonio. “Very Outlawish. I like this plan.”

Tonio sighed, long and low, then said, “Oh, what the hell. We haven't got anything better.” He looked around the apartment. “Although I hate to leave everything…” His voice trailed off.

“It's not forever,” Max said.

“We'll come back,” Lucia promised.

“It might be good, just for a while,” I added. “Knobbe Three says things are just going to get worse. And you really don't want to keep that court date.”

“I'll go,” Nicholas said, on a rush of air. “I've always wanted to go, I just never knew how. But if Floss can take us…”

“I'm not a tour guide,” Floss snapped. “There's not a Lonely Planet for Faerie.”

“But you could take us, right? You know how.”

“It's not a question of how,” Floss said to him. “I obviously know how. Lucia and I go, remember? And you could get there on your own as long as your need was strong enough.”

“I've tried,” Nicholas mumbled. “I've thought, and I've wished, and all I've ever gotten is me, standing under an oak, looking like a fool.”

“Really?” I asked. “I never knew…”

“Enough want but not enough need,” Floss snapped again, interrupting me. Even though she sounded dismissive, I was sure that was only because she was upset. She proved that when she said, “You're all acting like this is a lark, a little trip to the circus. I know it, and it's not what you think. The possibility for danger is always there.”

“Right now that's a good, strong possibility for here,” Nicholas pointed out, apparently taking no offense at Floss's statement about want and need. Then he nodded at Tonio and said, “At least for him it
is. Jail's no picnic.”

Max said, flat and true, “No shit.”

“Floss,” I said, “you said it yourself, before, and you were right. Tonio can't go to prison. We all agree on that. I know I couldn't do it once, let alone twice. We have to do something.”

“Major,” Floss said, and it was easy to see how bad the word tasted in her mouth. “Major or Faerie? That's it?”

“They may not convict him,” Nicholas said, almost as if he was changing the subject. “We may be worrying for nothing. We can take the chance.” He shrugged. “I'm not feeling too confident about that, but maybe everyone else is and I don't know it.”

“Not me,” I said.

Lucia shook her head. Max and Tonio just looked at Floss, and I think it was that look that did it, that Floss–Tonio connection. She dropped her head, she dropped her attitude, and she said, soft as spring rain, “All right. All right. I'll come up with something to make this work.”