May Bird Among the Stars (14 page)

She led May under the shelter of a cluster of leaves, to a table with two chairs. Posters and old photographs covered the walls, and May couldn't help but stare.

“That's me and Methuselah,” the Lady said, pointing to a photo of her and a very wrinkled man. “Me and Ishtar,” she explained, hooking her thumb at another. A poster hung over the table that said
I LEFT MY HEART IN BABYLON.
“Lots of good times. Lots of bad times, too, but we don't take pictures of
those,
do we? Pity, really. Bad times can be beautiful, in their way.”

The Lady sank into one of the chairs and rested her wrinkled chin on her wrinkled hands, staring at May, waiting. May stared back. “How's Pumpkin?” the Lady asked.

May goggled at her. This was not how she had expected things to go at all. The Lady reminded her of her granny. She cocked her head, surprised. “Um. Fine.”

The Lady's eyes glinted affectionately. “He's not just your house ghost, you know. He's your guardian spirit. His soul is tied up with yours, for always. He is your protector and your ally.”

May took this in. No wonder her life was so complicated. The Lady let out a deep, thick laugh. “Well?” she asked.

May goggled at her some more.

“You came to ask me something. Let's out with it.”

May blinked, suddenly frightened again. “You … you sent me a letter. You asked me to come.”

The Lady winked. “But that's not why you came.”

May just stared.

“I should be more specific. You have two questions. Trust yourself enough to ask them.”

May leaned back in her chair. She smoothed down her bangs nervously. “Am I really that girl, the one I read about in
The Book of the Dead?”
she muttered, surprised at the words as they came out of her mouth. It wasn't the question she'd meant to ask.

“You already know the answer to that.”

May's heart gave a thud. “I'm not a fighter.”

The Lady shrugged nonchalantly. “You're a hider. That's what you're thinking. And you're right.”

May swallowed and nodded, feeling very small.

The Lady kneaded her wrinkled hands. “What you are hiding from the most, my dear, is that you are none of those things you are so afraid of being—cowardly, weak, small. You are a warrior of the strongest, bravest kind. You aren't afraid to
know
you're afraid. And you're
most
afraid that you're stronger than you know. I know about the girl you saw, in the caves of the Petrified Pass.” She tapped her temple with a crooked finger. “You will grow into her like a hand-me-down dress. One day she will fit you just right.”

The Lady gazed at May intently, as if waiting for a reply. But May could think of nothing to say.

“Sorry.” The Lady waved her hand in the air. “I tend to get mysterious sometimes. Old habit. The answer is yes. You're the girl in the book. Incidentally, I
wrote
the book. And you could save the realm, possibly. That's one possible future. Also, you could end up selling skull dogs in Stabby Eye and making a good living at it, until Bo Cleevil comes, of course, and destroys Stabby Eye. Hauls you off to his fortress in the Northeast like
all the others. But I don't think that's what you want. Which brings us to your second question.”

Now she had changed again. She had the look of a panther: Her eyes were sharp and glinty, her fingernails seemed to be claws, her body, though old, seemed poised to pounce.

May stared at the leaf wall just beyond the Lady's right shoulder. She could feel her hands shaking. A weight of horrible guilt and fear settled over her. “Can I go home instead?”

The Lady's eyes flashed. “Of course.”

May gasped. “Really?”

“Yes, if I decide to let you.” She tilted her chin, staring up at May from under mossy eyebrows. “Is that what you want?”

May nodded, with a sinking feeling. “Yes.”

“Yes, eh? Not ‘I think'? Not maybe'?”

May nibbled on her pinky nail, then shook her head. “No. I want to go home.”

The Lady nodded solemnly, then stared at her for a long while. “I will consider it.”

May sank back in her chair breathlessly.

The Lady stood and floated around thoughtfully, as if turning over something very seriously in her mind. She gazed out from the limbs into the forest, seeming to look beyond it. “There is a third question. You won't ask it, but I'll tell you the answer. The Ever After is in danger. Your friends, everything. It's possible that if you go home, it won't be fixed.”

“Is it possible that it will?”

The Lady thought. “I don't know.” There was a long pause as they stared at each other again. “May, you don't want to fight. But sometimes, to keep what matters, you have to.”

“But why? Why me?”

“May, really”

Out of nowhere, the lady pulled down a white screen from the branch above. She then disappeared, reappearing a moment later as she wheeled a shiny silver slide projector in front of May She flipped the switch and centered the square of light on the screen.

The first scene showed a bunch of balloons May had once tried to use to fly off her mom's car.
Click.
The second slide was of the line of precious quartz rocks on May's shelf back home.
Click.
The wall of drawings in May's room, of wildly imagined places and creatures.
Click.
Somber Kitty in a golden warrior costume.

“Only you see the world the way you do. This is your gift.” The Lady pointed to May's chest with one clawed finger. “You know where your heart is. When you are strong enough to hold on to that, you are strong enough to do anything. Too many people forget.”

May moved her hands so that she was sitting on them. She couldn't help but hold her breath.

“You see, this”—the Lady nodded toward the screen—“is everything Bo Cleevil is not. He only wants to take. Whatever he was or has, has disappeared. He is a great big empty nothing. A thief who tries to fill himself up with things that belong to others.”

May remembered the great big empty feeling she had sensed at the edge of the world. “I think I saw him,” she blurted out.

Even this did not seem to surprise the Lady. “You
know,
you mean.”

May thought about it. Yes. She knew.

“And you were sad for him.”

May nodded, feeling foolish.

“There's no need to feel foolish for having a gentle heart.”

“He said we're all just made of Stardust,” May murmured. “He says we're very small.”

The Lady, to May's surprise, laughed at this. “And what's wrong with small?” The picture of the quartz rocks flashed back onto the screen, their surface woven with shiny white crystals. “People said all those rocks you collected were worthless,” the Lady said. “You have to believe otherwise, about all the things people say, if you are going to get anywhere worth going.”

“I can try”

“Oh, May. Trying is the
only
thing. Always try.”

The slide show continued long into the night, and May and the Lady talked about all the images—things May had seen, the kids at school, and, finally, May's mom.

The Lady squinted, seeming to look inward. “I'm fearful for her. I can understand your wish to get back to her.”

May's hands, still underneath her, had begun to go numb, but she clenched her fingers tightly together at the Lady's words. “Fearful? Why?”

But the Lady only stood abruptly, and this time she looked like a teenage girl, fresh and excited and full of energy. She led May to an enormous magnolia flower, its petals ever so slightly open, wide enough for someone just May's size to fit snugly inside.

“This is where you'll sleep.”

Before she said good night, the Lady paused at the opening of the flower and looked at May. “Do you know you have known me all of your life? Do you know you recognized me in the woods? Do you know I was always calling you?”

May was dazzled. She didn't answer.

“But here you are, my girl, and you want to go home.”

May stared down at her fingernails.

The Lady sighed. “Stay here tonight. I'll give you my answer in the morning.”

That night May slept tucked deep inside the soft, waxy petals of the magnolia blossom, buried in the heavy, sweet smell. She curled like a seed in the oldest tree, a tiny speck in a waxy bulb in a vast forest, in a wide realm, in a universe so endless that she was only a speck on a speck on a speck, dangling in space.

S
itting near the edge of the Pass, bored, Commander Berzerko was just about to clean her ears for the third time that evening when she noticed something curious to her left. Her tongue paused on the pad of her paw, and she stared a moment longer. Then she stood up and padded over to what had caught her eye, quickly recognizing it for what it was: a drawing in the dirt.

The commander sniffed the drawing for a second, then pulled back, licking her lips. It smelled like the living cat. But then, Commander Berzerko had always made it a point of pride that she was the only cat in the universe—with the exception of one or two artist cats she had heard of in Manhattan—who knew how to draw.

As she studied the mouse more intently, a long thread of saliva dripped from her mouth. Her gaze followed the line of the arrow. Could there really be a mouse that way? Commander Berzerko had not chased a mouse in years

She glanced back at the Petrified Pass. The travelers would never come out anyway. And if they did, she would be able to smell them from miles away (had the mouse ventured to scurry that far) and hurry right back. In any case, the pass was covered by South Place's most fearsome slew of goblins and zombies.

Why waste the opportunity?

The demon cat floated off into the distance.

When May climbed out of her flower in the morning, she was greeted not by the Lady, but by a letter pinned to a leaf.

May,

I am a busy woman, and I didn't want to wake you, as you'll need all of your rest for what lies ahead. I have decided that, yes, I will grant your request. Unfortunately, I cannot “send”you home. But I can tell you how to get there.

You know about the four portals that lead from this world to Earth. There is a fifth almost no one knows about. You'll need to steel your courage to get there.

You'll see a bag at your feet.

May looked down. There was a black velvety sack resting on the limb.

It contains gifts. Some that you'll need and some that I want you to have.

You'll find new death shrouds—one for you and one for Somber Kitty. Yours may be a touch too large, but don't worry, you'll grow into it—and the nice thing is, it'll never fall off Both shrouds will be more convincing than that rag you are toting around now. For one thing, you won't have the unmistakable smell of the living any longer.

There's a new bathing suit (I noticed yours has seen better days) and a key. You'll know when to use the key, I hope. The necklace is for your friend Beatrice. The flowers will bloom for her only if she's willing to let them. I don't think she realizes yet that the mind can't control everything. Sometimes you need to go with your gut. There's also a compass—you can guess who that's for. I'm afraid I haven't got anything for Pumpkin. Oops—it just slipped my mind. I'm sure he'll understand.

And, well, the last thing in the bag is a surprise. Maybe a good surprise, maybe not.

May, there is an enemy pursuing you that you're not expecting. Be careful.

Now, to your escape.

You've met our friend the Bogey. The way home is under his bed. I know you must be sorry to hear this. It is dangerous, yes. But no risk, no gain, is what I always say.

Good luck, May. I hope we see each other again sometime.

P.S. I know everybody is saying I am partly evil. They're right, I must admit. But don't forget, I am also very good.

The Lady had not signed her name. There was only the stamp, like the one May had seen on the letter she'd found in the Briery Swamp post office and on the telep-a-gram she'd received on the train. She knelt down and opened the bag, pulling the items out one by one.

The first thing her hand closed around was the key. May knew it just by the feel of it. But when she pulled it out, she saw it looked nothing like the key John the Jibber had used to get them into the Eternal Edifice. This key was black and luster-less, the handle shaped into a ghoulish head with a frightening pair of eyes. May studied it for a long second. Then, not wanting to look at it any longer, she stuck it into the pocket of her shorts. There was the necklace, with one end strung through a tiny hole at the other end. A miniature living magnolia bud hung from the middle. May smiled. Beatrice would think it was beautiful.