The Questory of Root Karbunkulus - Quill (25 page)

Woah.

Vulcherk’s was impressive to be sure. A
massive, gleaming silver ‘V’ glowed from its plot in the dark
marble flooring. The whole of the building seemed to spread for
days. But it was not the size. It was the chaos. Staircases
everywhere. Hundreds of them magically moving about, crisscrossing
and swerving and diving. Each one loaded with shoppers and taking
them to their designated floors. And, no doubt about it, there were
many, many floors. Root could see an endless stack of departments:
garmentry, gadgets, stationary, furnishings. On and on. Each floor
with a balcony that wrapped around the circumference of the store.
Some of the balconies even jutted out in places for displays and
sale items.

Root had no idea where to start. Eventually
she decided the best place was probably the signpost that stood in
the centre of the main floor, a marvel that it hadn’t been knocked
down by all the flying staircases. It towered high above, wrapped
in a tornado of signage, hundreds of arrows pointing every which
way. Floor one, Seasonal. Floor two, Mystics. Three, Zoo Supplies.
Four, Magic Muses. Root took a step forward only to be nearly
bowled over by a renegade staircase headed for the Staff Room
floor. Root watched the staircase pull up and empty its fleet of
passengers.

Except these weren’t ordinary passengers.

It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise
but Root’s mouth fell open anyhow. Squawnches. She looked at them.
Blue skin, wiry hair wrapped in little white dumbbell bones,
bristle tufted ears and the standard two-foot height. Squawnches.
Everywhere. Hard to miss now as she realized they were all dressed
in black uniforms with the standard gothic ‘V’ printed on the backs
and fronts. Sure, these employed Squawnches were a little less
Squawnch looking…uniforms did that…and it was nice to see that none
had Wingers with which to fly…but they were Squawnches nonetheless
and Root felt instant distrust.

“Can you be help-ed, o miss?” A little blue
brute was right in front of her now. She looked down. It was a male
Squawnch, blinking with the familiar runny egg eyes, smiling with
the familiar moldy teeth. Or in this case, tooth.

“I…I’m…” Root couldn’t find a single word
that wouldn’t be offensive.

“Garmentry?”

She shook her head.

“Beautifying Boutique?”

Another shake of the head.

“The restroom, o miss?”

“No…I…”

“Or perhaps some refreshment in the Cooking
Court?”

Yes, that was exactly what she needed. A
place to sit and get her bearings over a nice drink. She nodded.
“Sure, I could…”

The Squawnch whistled. A staircase zipped
over. It seemed most excited, like today was its first day of
staircase work and it wanted to impress. It abruptly halted its
lower step, causing the remaining steps to crash into each other
like dominoes. When they reformed, Root saw that the staircase
wasn’t actually connected. It was a series of short black planks,
tiered consecutively with nothing but air keeping them together.
Air or some sort of invisible magic.

“Cooking Court” the Squawnch ordered and
gestured to Root. “Watch your steppers, o miss.”

Root stepped onto the first step of the
keener staircase and without any benefit of railing to brace, found
herself immediately teetering and flailing her arms as it spun her
from the entrance foyer to the left, to the right, another left,
skirting a crosswise staircase, (this with a gaggle of people
heading for a sale)…and then up, up, up to the 21
^st
floor of Vulcherk and Co. Root wrapped herself around the plank
nearest her and hung on for dear life.

She hardly managed to read the ‘Cooking
Court’ sign when the staircase seemed to screech to a stop and
Root, like the rest of its steps was plowed forward. She landed on
a welcome mat that floated in the air, just in front of an archway
with various ‘cooking court’ edibles sculpted along its top.

Beyond the arch, tables and chairs staggered
about forming a sort of circle around a clutch of greasy, steaming
food stands. Behind each seedy counter was a Squawnch or two in
hairnets. Actually cooking. Root had no idea what, but no one
seemed to be complaining. Perhaps she’d become too spoiled at Gub.
She settled at one stall that offered “Fresh Fixins” and the most
hygienic looking clerk of the Squawnch lot, paid for combo number
two, then faced the task of finding a clean table.

She found one close to the archway where she
could look down upon the whole of Vulcherk’s massive, bustling
enterprise. But it was not what she saw that shocked her next. It
was what she heard.

Elwandria Suits was sucking out the last bits
from a cob of corn. She cared not one iota that half of it was
still clinging to her teeth. It was darn good corn.

“You gonna eat yours?” she asked her
tablemate.

“Generally if one buys something to eat, they
intend to eat it, Elwandria.” came the reply.

“Well, you don’t have to be so snarky about
it!”

“If you had been stuck with three hellions
for weeks on end, you’d be snarky too!”

“I
was
stuck, Ginovane. Literally
stuck. In the deadly amber of hulking black trees in the middle of
the Swamps of Koik! So, don’t tell me I don’t have a right to be
snarky!”

“Maybe so but there’s no way your team was as
bad as mine. Mine were downright evil.”

“Well, mine were downright evil in Pink
clothing, ‘specially the leader, a potty mouthed princess wannabe.
I should’ve dumped their butts a long time ago. Don’t know why I
waited so long. One can only take so much snot-mouthed abuse before
one says, “That’s it! I quit! You’re on your own, punks!” which is
of course what I did in the end. You gonna eat that corn?”

“At least yours were still goin’ by the
rules…”

“Somewhat.”

“Well, were they leading you into Dark
Arts?”

Elwandria sucked in an audible breath.
“No!”

“Oh yes!” Ginovane amped the dramatics.
“Tried t’get me onto the zero-th floor, right here in Vulcherk’s!
That dank and evil place where who knows what breeds!”

“Holy Kadoodles, Ginovane! What did they
want?”

“Wouldn’t say. But I wanted no part of it
anyhow. I’ll not cheat my way through this Quest, I told them.”

“And wha’d they say?”’

“Well, it was just one…a punk leader like
yours. Big-mouthed little cretin. Said ‘fine, then hit the road!’
right to my face!”

“No!

“Oh yes!”

“Then what?”

“Well, then…I guess I hit the road, seeing as
I’m here with you now.”

“Right.”

There was a pause.

“You gonna eat that corn?”

“I tell ya, Elwandria, I’m glad I ran into
you ‘cause I wanted t’strangle the insolent brat! Even now I’m not
sure I shouldn’t tell the Quest Committee. I mean dabbling in the
Dark Arts was a definite no-no in the Guidebook. And this creepy
kid knew way too much about it. Even figured out Vulcherk’s
password t’get in. It’s scary. Someone could get seriously
hurt.”

“Well, why don’t you tell the Guardian?”

“Yeah, maybe I will.”

“You gonna eat that corn?”

“So, where’s your team now?”

“Well, last time I looked, they were prancing
their prize all around town, they were! Buncha pink braggarts.”

“You mean they got a HaloEm Quill?”

“Correction. I got it!”

“What? How?”

“In the White Woods. Wasn’t anything
impressive, trust me. My team just tailed another team. Found ‘em
climbin’ the steep side of the White Cliffs. With no skill or
nothin’, not an ounce of climbing magic…But obviously there was a
reason for that and so we just hid ourselves and waited. It was
really slow going and painful to watch. But gradually the other
team started getting closer t’something. And the closer they got,
the more it revealed itself. Eventually we could see what it was.
It was a nest! A HaloEm nest!”

“No!”

“Oh yes! It’d been Hidden but somehow this
team learned of it and ‘cause it was past Hover bounds, they were
climbin’ all by themselves t’get it. And it looked like they might
actually succeed. But then, my snotty pink leader says ‘stay put’
to us and takes off. When she gets back, she’s got a cannon. A
cannon, Ginovane!”

“No!”

“Oh yes!”

“I don’t believe it! Of all things…I have to
say, that was pretty smart actually.”

“It was; there’s no denying. But still I felt
kind of bad exploding past the other team and snatching the Quill
on my descent. They’d worked so hard. On a good note, I broke my
cannonballing record. I think it’s the way I tucked my head in
differently.”

Another pause. Elwandria and Ginovane didn’t
notice the girl in the red cloak sitting beside them, leaning in so
much she looked like she might fall off her chair.

“And what about
your
team, Ginovane?
Where d’y’suppose they are now?”

“Oh, for all I know they’re still here,
lurking about on that black and godless Dark Arts floor.”

“No!”

“Oh yes! Well, the brat at least. I just left
‘em all when I ran into you! And a good thing, too!”

Another pause, this one filled by the
scuffing of a chair beside them. The two women caught the back of
Root’s cloak as she rounded the food court arch.

“Hmmm.” Elwandria said after a while.

“Hmmm what?”

“That girl. She looked familiar.”

“Mmmm.”

“D’ya think she’s gonna finish off her
corn?”

At the railing of the twenty-first floor Root
skidded her feet. Her staircase was still waiting at the dock,
empty and ‘twiddling its steps’. It hadn’t been called away,
yet.

“The Zero-th floor!” Root said.

The steps backed up. They shook as if saying
‘no’.

“Wha’dya mean, no? You can’t say no! I’m a
paying customer!”

The stairs stood trembling and for a moment
she couldn’t believe that she felt sympathy for a set of flying
wood pieces. But it was clear this staircase was freaked out.

“Look, I know you’re new and all.”

The steps nodded.

“But I really need to get there.” She said
though feelings of doom crept in as she envisioned the Dark Arts
floor.

More trembles.

“ Okay, listen. If you take me there, I
promise I will put in a good word for you.”

A hesitant pause.

“And…and…and I will make sure you get
promoted for such great service…the best service I have ever
had!”

The stairs seemed to think about it. So did
Root actually. She couldn’t imagine what kind of promotion would be
in store for a staircase. Maybe just the fancy floors? Or the easy
ones? Regardless, the bid wasn’t quite working. The stairs looked
to be heading toward doubt. Root had to ante up a bit more sway.
She went for a sympathy vote - sad eyes, trembling lips, the
works.

“Please. I…I really need this. Someone could
get seriously hurt if I don’t get there and stop it.”

It was probably a bit overdone but whatever,
it worked. Besides, it wasn’t like it wasn’t true. At any rate, the
staircase seemed to sigh resignedly. It moved closer and butted up
against the floor. Root stepped aboard and tried to keep on her
feet as it criss-crossed the store, barely missing other stairs and
angry customers. She was moving up. Way up. As in the very top
floor. Eventually there were no other staircases. The light grey
walls grew darker as they reached further heights. And nearer as if
closing in on them. It was then that Root realized they had entered
the store’s giant spire she had seen when first arrived. When the
walls were so close she could reach out and touch them, the
staircase came to a halt.

Root looked around. She was surrounded by
gleaming black marble. Above her she could see dark tinted windows
rising into the last tip of the apex. Behind these the sun looked
bald.

There was no railed balcony here. Instead the
black marble walls curved around her, smooth and cold and seamless
save for a single door that faced them. It too was shining black
marble. Its only identifying feature was the familiar and much
despised ‘V’, a full body length in height.

The steps trembled again.

“C’mon. It can’t be that bad…can it?” Root
leaned in closer to the door remembering the heated conversation of
the two women. What had the one guide said? Oh yeah! Her team
leader had figured out Vulcherk’s password. Team leader, eh? Now
who might that be? Of course Root had her suspicions. But still she
couldn’t be sure. This was pretty serious stuff. Who would risk
total disqualification to cheat like this? Obviously a person
wanting to win at all costs. Using Dark Magic no less. Well, like
the guide had said, someone could get seriously hurt. And Root
certainly didn’t want to be that someone. Whoever it was was gonna
get caught; Root would make sure of that.

She eyed the door. If the competition could
guess a password, surely she could.

Vulcherk…Vulcherk
...
she thought to
herself. Vulcherk and
…
“Money!” she commanded. Nothing
happened. “Greed! Evil!” The steps shivered.

“Umm…Ugly! Wormy! Sly!”

Silence. She had to laugh. As if Vulcherk
would choose descriptions like these for his own passwords.

She concentrated harder, trying to remember
all the things Lian had told her about Grotius Vulcherk, how he did
underground business with the… “Black Market!”

Nada. The door remained unmoved.

Root filed through notes in her brain,
detailing the nasty dealings of this creepy man she had
straightaway learned to loathe. As she was reminded of his penchant
for collecting rare, strange and often dangerous things, not to
mention his rather questionable connections, Root became quite
concerned at what might be lurking behind the black door. She
wondered if catching a rival in an illegal Quest operation was
worth it.