Chapter 33
Blue
There was much arguing in Lupa’s room before we left, but there was evidently no convincing her not to join our quest. I don’t know if she’s resistant to Gunthreon’s ability, or if he doesn’t use it on her, but I think he could have easily gotten her to stay home if he really wanted her to.
The townspeople are out and about, repairing Meadow’s Edge. The baker tosses spoiled goods from her shop, and I see the local doctor pouring lime on a greble whose head is missing. We stop in front of Mortimer’s shop, and I see him busy inside. Gunthreon leads us in, and I see Mortimer try to hide as we enter.
Gunthreon says his hello and asks Mortimer a question I do not hear, but gibberish is the only thing that escapes Mortimer’s mouth. Gunthreon gives the floor to Conner, in hopes that soulspeak produces a different result. Conner introduces himself and says something I don’t fully hear also. The tactic is to see first if Conner can get any information about creating lutheose out of Mortimer, because if Conner can, so can Devoten. After Conner talks with Mortimer, Mortimer’s gaze turns foggy, and he again starts talking gibberish. Conner seems confused and looks to Gunthreon, who just shrugs.
“I don’t know what he’s saying,” says Conner, returning to us, “and I always know what one is saying.” Mortimer stops talking alien and just smiles. He then shakes his head and furrows his brow.
“I’m not going to have any luck getting his formula or processes, so I would think that would be the same for anyone,” states Conner. Then he speaks once more to Mortimer, and again, the same gibberish spews from his mouth.
The second part of the plan is to see if Mortimer can create his lutheose elsewhere, but Gunthreon says, “I’m afraid if we pull him from his shop he may be of no use to anyone—even us if we need his metal. Let’s let him be.”
“Stay with your shop, Mortimer, and I will speak with Greer before we leave,” advises Gunthreon. “We’ll make sure you are well-guarded.”
Mortimer smiles his own special smile this time. I see that he needs dental work, but it’s still a lovely smile. I mention to him that he could create some lovely instruments for the local dentist. He evidently never thought of this, because it’s like a light bulb goes off above his head. “Barter, Mortimer.” I feel karma working to save his mouth.
“Bye, Mortimer.” Gunthreon bows to him.
“Bye.” He turns quickly to his sketchbook, and I see him deep in thought as I close the door.
“Be safe, good Mortimer,” I say to myself.
The last stop in Meadow’s Edge is Greer’s
lair. Gunthreon and Greer chat privately while we all wait outside, staring out at the land beneath us. I breathe in as much lilac-scented air as I can and feel a bit of sadness come over me as I realize I have to leave my homeland. My anxiety heightens at the thought of separation.
Karmelean, remember all that I told you
, says Greer in my head.
Stay strong. We need you.
I think back to Greer and picture a tiny ant carrying a nut ten times the size of itself. His laugh is deep and hearty in my head.
“To the mooncats we go!” Gunthreon is cheerful, and seems to have enjoyed the chat with Greer. He later confirms that Greer mentioned he, too, had heard rumors about the east we
’re to explore. Good to know we’re at least heading in the right direction.
“Onward ho,
” I grunt, the lack of enthusiasm blatant in my voice. The parting from Meadow’s Edge, Conner’s new attitude towards me, Ladimer’s disappearance, and my time away from both Kioto and my mom have me wishing that I was someone else, someone like Amber—safe at home, in a new, but solid, relationship with someone who loves her, unconditionally. How quickly the tides change.
*********
The distance is great between Meadow’s Edge and Socola, so it gives me plenty of time to think about things. I wonder how my mom and Kioto are doing, and what they are doing this very moment. I miss both of them, and wonder if they’re thinking of me, too. My mom’s blood pressure is probably skyrocketing, because she hasn’t heard from me
and
she’s pissed she wasn’t invited. Maybe tonight, if nobody is paying me any attention, I can just pop on over and see them. It would be a fast visit, just to make sure everything is quiet in my realm.
We approach a land that, from a distance appears to be covered in purple. “Are we entering the Land of the Grapecats?” I amuse myself sometimes.
Conner gives me a “don’t be stupid” look.
“How quickly we change our game,” I say. He
’s got me angry now.
“Well, it
’s hard when you’re invited onto the winning team, only to learn you’re the sacrifice fly.”
“Stop with all the stu
pid talk, both of you,” Lupa sputters. “Shall we stop now for some supplies? We may not get the chance again.” Gunthreon rolls his eyes. “I take that as a big fat yes,” she says, a bit perturbed.
Purple, purple, and more purple is all I see as we come closer—purple houses, purple streets, and purple trees. I also see movement, and as I squint, I see people—very plump people, in fact, like Tweedledee and Tweedledum offspring. “How
did we get to Wonderland?” I ask.
“Would you stop already with your dumb comments!” Conner is asking for a fight. I quickly reach to his energy to subdue his anger, but his eyes open wide and he points at me. “Don
’t even think about it! I know what you’re attempting to do. Stay away from me—me and my...energy!”
“Maybe if you stop being so jealous!” My anger awakens as I sense his, and it has awoken my monk
’s spade, because I can feel its warmth on my back.
“Whoa!” Lupa doesn
’t seem amused. “You two had better settle your differences, because this is no fun for the rest of us. Understand?” She gets a simultaneous “yes” from Conner and me.
Conner turns to me and says, “We
’ll talk later.”
“We will talk when I feel like it.” I cross my arms in defiance.
“Kailey!” Lupa turns red in the face.
“Sorry, Lupa. Fine, we can talk tonight.” I turn to Conner
’s stupid face. “I have time later in my schedule. Maybe I can squeeze you in.”
The main strip is bustling. How these people don
’t fall over or bump into everything in their path is amazing. With all the roundness of the people, I’m ready to see some pinball action. Gunthreon stops us in front of a building—purple, of course—that seems to be some sort of apothecary-style shop called Wafter’s Mercentile.
“Goody!” Lupa, having apparently forgotten our bickering already, is jumping up and down, squealing.
Gunthreon turns the purple doorknob and we enter. The man behind the counter hasn’t turned yet, but knows we’re there. “How can I help you good people today?” he says. Thank goodness the inside of the shop is not purple. As he turns to face us, his eyes widen at the sight of Bu and he reaches behind his counter. Gunthreon persuades him to relax and Conner soulspeaks, letting shop man know Bu is no threat.
“I was wondering if you had some things I need.” Lupa picks up a piece of parchment on the counter and starts looking for something to write with. I pull out a
rollerball pen and hand it to her. Shop man shrieks as Lupa holds the pen in front of her. Everyone freezes and anticipates his next move.
Shop man stares at Lupa and then slowly walks toward her, looking as though he
’s actually a bit intrigued. He stops in front of her and looks at the pen, then runs quickly by her and closes his shop curtains. “Travelers?” he says to Gunthreon. Gunthreon nods. Shop man turns to Lupa. “Can I hold that dear woman?” She shrugs and passes it to him. He brings it to his nose and sniffs. “Hmm,” he says as he sniffs again. “What would I call this smell?”
“Plastic,” I say and he drops the pen on the floor, not wanting to touch it again.
“Nasty stuff! Please continue with your shopping, before I have any unexpected visits from the Unapproved Foreign Objects Enforcements,” says shop man.
Lupa whispers, “UFOE—Technology police,” to me and picks the pen up and writes down her order, finishing quickly so that I may put the hideous object away.
I wander the store and peruse the aisles, admiring the jars on the shelves. There must be a thousand of them at least. Each jar is the same size and shape; only the label differs. I pick one up and open it, and there seems to be nothing in it—but it does smell. It smells like peanut butter. I find another that reminds me of newly painted walls, and one other jar that smells exactly like a wet dog. “What the hell is in these jars?” I say.
“Don
’t keep them open too long!” Shop man seems perturbed with me.
“Smells.” This comes from Bu, who seems to have found a jar that smells like pot roast.
“That’s why they’re all fat! It makes you want to eat!” I say this too loud, and shop man’s face tells me he may try and strangle me before we leave. I make sure to keep my distance while wandering.
“How can you buy scents, let alone store them?” I find this concept very interesting.
Gunthreon leans into me and whispers, “Some sort of olfactory trick.” Lupa is like a kid in a candy shop, running from canister to canister.
I’m not a convert yet. “Yeah, well, what do you do with them?”
I say. The shop man squints at me. “Sorry, this is all new to me. I have a feeling you can enlighten me.”
Shop man
’s chest puffs up, and he holds his head up high behind his podium, ready to give his inaugural address. “Well, good lady, don’t you realize how important your sense of smell is?” he says.
“Well, sure I do.”
He gives me the squinty eyes again. “Haven’t you ever smelled something that brought you back to your youth, or makes you suddenly feel relaxed, or even sad? Scents spark emotion!”
“Oh.” I think for a bit. “Yes! New asphalt!” Everyone turns to me like I farted publicly or something, and I
’m sure even
that
jar is here somewhere. “The smell reminds me of elementary school, after they repaved the recess grounds.”
Duh.
Shop man turns the attention back to himself. “I’ve seen alliances formed and treaties broken over scents.” He leans in to whisper something to us. “Cleopatra, of Abscondia, was one of the founding Wafter
’s regulars, but shhh, it’s a secret passed down many generations.” He puffs up again. His eyes close and he breathes in deeply. “They say jasmine followed her everywhere.” He opens his eyes again. “Feel free to keep shopping, I have some business to attend to in the back.” Abruptly, he leaves.
I browse the canisters and try to think about my favorite scent. Cotton candy is the first thing that comes to mind, and I wonder if cotton candy exists here in Renhala, so I walk through the isle with the “C” canisters, which are labeled alphabetically. “
’Cabin,’ ‘Cabernet’... ‘Circus’... ‘Corn,’ and—aha! ‘Cotton Candy’! I point to the jar when shop man comes back. “Gunthreon, can I get this, please?” He nods.
I am astonished at how shop man maneuvers around the shelves and jars without toppling everything over. Just then, Bu finds something to his liking, and he runs over, but not as nimbly as shop man. Bypassing his usual gracefulness, he knocks jars off the shelf, making shop man angry.
“Sorry!” cries Bu.
“It
’s all right, Bu,” I say. “It was an accident. What’s gotten you so excited?”
“Kailey, this one smells like Kioto!”
“Why, that’s just up your alley, isn’t it?” He comes over and opens his jar. I sniff, and I recognize the wet dog smell. “Guess Kioto needs a bath, eh?”
“Oh, Bu
think she smells wonderful!” This, from someone I forgot smells like rotten eggs. I’ve gotten so used to him. I guess I understand where he’s coming from.
Shop man picks up the canisters Bu knocked over and grabs one to fill my order. He then disappears behind the counter to get a small, airtight jar. “You know these only work once, right?”
“No, but I do now. I just open it up, right? Then what happens?”
“You open it up, and make sure you are not in a tight area, for my smells are the
strongest in town.” He smiles. “It will last for about fifteen minutes, and it is pure delight! Make sure you tell your friends about me, and since you are new to all this, I’ll give you a triple dose—free of charge!”
We all buy something, even Conner
, then leave the shop. Conner conveniently doesn’t let me see his purchase, though. Gunthreon lets me see in his bag. “’Basil,’ ‘Cedar,’ ‘Garlic,’ and...‘Bug Repellent’?”
“Can
’t help it. It reminds me of Lupa’s hugs in the garden—eucalyptus, and citronella oil.”
“Hmm.
To each his own I guess,” I comment. Lupa shows me her jars. She picked up “Sparrow,” “Black Dirt,” “Peppermint,” and “Rose.” “Sparrow?” I say.
“To scare away those t
opola bugs the day they migrate in throngs to my garden. Once they settle on my plants—I got ‘em!”
“Okay, then.”
I then suddenly see Gunthreon’s eyes diverted toward two men dressed in black uniforms stopping patrons on the street. He indiscreetly gets us moving away from the area without explaining, and only keeping the conversation going as we move a bit faster. “Bu, what did you get at Wafter’s?” he says, his eyes quickly darting behind us.