Petra K and the Blackhearts (12 page)

“How do I know you will bring him back?” I said.

“Do you think I would have saved you from the Boot in the Palace Gardens if I planned on stealing Luma?” said Abel. “Look, nobody will tell you this, but Luma is not the same when you are not around. He pouts like his world is doomed, doesn’t let Isobel apply the sparkles, and he even nipped my finger when I tried to feed him some pomegranate seeds.”

I could not conceal my pleasure on hearing this, and a smile broke out across my face.

“Don’t laugh,” said Abel. “It hurt.”

“I’m not laughing,” I said.

“Yeah, right,” said Abel, who began to investigate my room.

“So we agree,” I said.

“Sure,” replied Abel blithely.

“So you should leave,” I said.

“Oh,” rejoined Abel. “The only thing is, I need to take Luma tonight. The tournament is tomorrow.”

“What? Why are you telling me now?”

Abel just shrugged, and kept playing with the stuffed frog.

When I went to wake Luma, he protested fiercely, spitting at us through the bars of his cage. “You shouldn’t surprise us like this,” I said to Abel. “I’m going to have to take him as far as your lair. You can give him some lavendula to calm him for the trip.”

“Why don’t you just come with us?” said Abel.

I thought about my mother, how she would react if I just disappeared, or if she would react at all.

“I can’t,” I said. “I have a home, Abel.” His face momentarily fell. That was the real difference between us, not the stuffed frogs or schooling: I had a home, something Abel might never know.

“Fine,” he finally responded. “Just get him as far as the lair.” Then he put the frog down, went to the window, and slipped out, silent as a breeze. I thought for a second, feeling bad without any real reason to. I opened Luma’s cage and pulled him out. I stroked him until he was calm, put on my jacket, and tucked him and the portable nest into the inner pocket. I started out the window, then thought of something. I pulled myself back inside, then went and grabbed the stuffed frog.

“Hey Abel,” I called out my window. When he looked up, I tossed the frog out. He caught it, and couldn’t contain the smile it brought to his face. After that, I slipped from the window and joined him on the dark Jozseftown street.

Luma sensed our impending separation and it was all I could do to keep him from escaping from my coat. Dawn was breaking in the neighborhood: I could even see a few stalls being set up on Goat Square Market. There was a kind of silence on the streets, a silence that spoke, like a hot wind before a thunderstorm. Something was about to happen, this was clear to me. Oblivious, the rest of the city carried on as normal: street sweepers brushed the dust and trash from the gutters, and revelers sang drunkenly on their way home from long nights at the pubs. On the corner, an automaton creaked awake, a light glowing from behind its glass
eye, seeking customers. An old beggar man stopped us to ask for alms. Abel handed over a few kuna. The thousand kuna that the Boot were offering would buy a lot of meals. I wondered just how many of these people would turn in Luma and me for the sake of that money.

Before long we came to the metal grate and descended into the sewers. Deklyn and Isobel were there, awake and ready to travel. I set Luma down on the table. He looked about anxiously, until Isobel fed him a petal of lavendula that she had produced from a vial. He took it greedily from her fingertips, and before long was snoozing on the card table.

“When will you be back?” I asked.

“It depends on Luma, but if he wins, not until tomorrow night.”

Something wasn’t right. Nobody was speaking much, or looking me in the eye.

“What’s wrong?” I said.

“Nothing,” Abel was quick to answer.

“Yes, there is,” I insisted.

“Jasper was arrested near the palace,” Deklyn finally said. “He was trying to make contact with the other resistance movements.”

“What?” shrieked Abel.

“We just heard. Anyway, we have to move now. There is no time to waste. Petra K, it is time for you to leave. We have to plan.”

“Come,” said Isobel, taking me by the hand. “Deklyn needs to be alone right now.”

“But he is not alone,” I protested. “Even if I leave, he is not alone.”

“It is better if you get home right now. It is not safe here.”

In a daze, I let Isobel take me by the arm and escort me out. I found myself on the street. I began to walk home with a bad feeling in my stomach. Something was happening that I was
not being told about, something more than Jasper. I was suddenly unsure if I could fully trust the Blackhearts.

In my path stood an old Half Not woman. I could see that she was blind, but she sensed me all the same, and beckoned me forward to read my fortune. Half Nots were famous for the accuracy of their fortunetelling, so I complied, taking a kuna from my pocket and placing it in her grimy hand. After I did that she began to run her fingers over my own palm, tracing the lines of my hand.

“Ahhh,” she moaned, her eyes rolling back into her head. “Mists of the night clearing! River clay molding itself! Betrayal is at hand! And it comes from one so close to you! You are in great danger. The time is now, you must act.” With that, the Half Not dropped my hand, her eyes becoming lucid for a moment. I would swear she could see, for she put her hand to my face and whispered, “So much depends upon it, Petra K.”

She knew my name! I knew right then that I had been betrayed by the Blackhearts. After the tournament, they were going to turn Luma in to the Boot and claim the money. I rushed back to the grate, lifted it, and descended into the sewer. I ran along the dark old passageways until I got to their lair.

I was too late. The place was empty. Barely a trace of the Blackhearts remained, just a few blankets and vials of useless potion. Jasper’s model of Ruki Mur was gone as well, though a few spare limbs lay discarded in the corner. The gang had instantly vanished.

I would have to catch up with them. This meant somehow getting to the Lower Tatras. Could I actually do something like that? I had never taken a train by myself, and only been out of the city on a few trips with my mother to pick apples.

I returned home, throwing open the front door rather than climbing up the ivy. But when I entered the foyer, I was greeted by two uniformed Boot officers and a man in a white lab coat.

“That’s her,” said the doctor. One of the Boot officers moved quickly to block my escape. The other closed in on me. I made a start toward the door but was grabbed from behind. He held me firmly by my arms, and struggle as I might, I could not escape. The doctor approached. He put the back of his hand to my forehead, then looked me closely in the eyes.

“Yes,” he said. “A case of dragonka fever in its incubation. But don’t worry, child, we will take care of you.” It was then that I noticed: in his other hand he held a dragon-headed staff. I registered the deathly astringent smell of camphor. It was Wormwood. He was not a trader at all, but an agent of the Boot.

Before they took me, I saw the door to mother’s bedroom open but a crack. I saw a shape darken that space, and then I saw it close. I called out to her—the woman who had betrayed me, the woman who had turned me over to the Boot. I was dragged from the house, without a peep from Katalin K.

I
n a Boot cart I was taken on a familiar route: to the Pava School. Only now, from the building’s main entrance hall hung two long red and black banners, with Archibald’s Imperial symbol—a golden eye—peering out from it, as though gazing across the domain of the schoolyard. I saw two more Imperial insignias where the Pava School sign once was. Only now it read “Pava Youth Guard Facility.” Gone were the peacocks, and the flower gardens had been torn up, replaced by statues of Archibald. The guard escorted me into the building. With one whiff, memories of school came rushing back. They could change the name and hang posters of Archibald up and down the hallways, but the place still smelled like my old school.

As we passed one of the classrooms, I peered in. There were all my old classmates, minus Zsofia, concentrating on the lesson, delivered by a uniformed teacher.

“That is not for you,” said my escort. “Not yet. The Number One Play Pal’s teachings are still beyond you.”

There it was again, that silly name people had invented for the dictator. “Why don’t you just call him Archibald?” I said.

“Some do,” the escort answered. “But that is just one aspect of him. Here, he is Number One Play Pal. It is something of a nickname, because you are blessed with the advantage of enjoying the great fun our leader has to offer. You will realize there is no better playmate than our leader.”

We arrived at a basement room, the door was opened, and I was pushed into darkness.

“Quarantine,” the guard said, and then she locked the door and left me there, alone. I could not see an inch ahead of me, so I felt with my hands until I found a mattress on the floor. There I sat and waited. But nobody came. So I waited more. And more.

And still more.

T
HERE IS NO SUCH THING
as darkness. That is what I came to realize. If you are put in a blackened cell for hours, days at a time, you create your own light. Where it comes from I don’t know, perhaps the tiny part of your mind where hope still shines. But there in front of me was Luma again, in a waking dream, frolicking in the air with his strange cursive flying. He was alive; he was well. I could feel it in my heart. I knew then that the Blackhearts had not betrayed me. It was my mother and my mother alone whom the Half Not fortuneteller had spoken of. Had my mother told them about my pet, or had she simply gotten rid of me like a house-plant that had outgrown its space? For that answer I would have to wait. And wait I did. I have no idea how long, because without the sun the days smeared into the night, night smudged into day, the whole thing a dark murky painting of time. But why did I feel no hunger? There had to be a reason for the madness, unless it was just for the sake of madness.

The more I stayed alone, the stronger I felt Luma’s presence. Perhaps Isobel’s exercises really bonded us, and we inhabited a part of each other’s hearts. Perhaps that is what Isobel meant by the magic coming from inside. For the beast could be nothing but a projection of my enfeebled mind. Or perhaps I was just going
loony from the isolation. But Luma was conjured again before my eyes, sparkling in the darkness. I grabbed the phantom beast, and we did a dance together, moving clumsily across the room. Then Luma crumbled from my grasp, disappearing like a sand castle in the rain. I called his name, but got no response.

Then I cried.

When I had no more tears, I crawled to the mattress again to try to sleep. I lay down my head on the musty pillow. I let my eyelids slowly close; upon doing so I heard a whirring, clapping sound. There was a bird in my cell! And it was circling around my face, like a hummingbird hovers in front of a flower. It stayed there for a few moments, then rose again to its roost somewhere in the blackness above me. Again I closed my eyes to sleep, and again the bird descended. Again I opened my eyes. After it happened a third time, I began to get annoyed. It seemed to come and flutter right in my face right when my eyes closed, as though it was there to keep me from sleeping. When it happened again, I clinched my eyes shut tight. This time the bird fluttered down, and flew around my face, but I would not open my eyes. I swiped at it with my hand to lightly knock it away, but when I touched it I felt not feathers but fur. Rather than a bird, it was a huge bat, there in the room with me. I shot upright and screamed. I heard the bat hit the wall, recover from my swat, then return to its place above. I didn’t close my eyes again for a very long time.

I
HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG
I lived in that waking sleep—it must have been days—but just when I thought I could bear it no more, when I was surviving as but a husk of myself, I heard sounds coming from outside the door. Voices resounded high and excited. Girls were singing and laughing.

The door burst open, and even though the light in the corridor was dim, I still had to shield my eyes against it. I immediately felt hands upon me, stroking my hair, patting my back. Then somebody hugged me.

“Welcome. Now, let’s get down to play.” Though my eyes were closed against the light, I recognized the voice. It was Bianka and my old classmates: Lenka, Margo, and Sonia. Only Tatiana was missing. It had been so long since I had had any human contact. Their hands felt warm and pleasing when they brushed me. I fell into their arms and let them ply me like a piece of clay from the Pava riverbed. When I was able to open my eyes again, I saw their faces. They somehow looked older, and harder, and they all wore the same black pajamas with a red sash. I looked up and could not believe the size of the bat I was sharing a room with. It was as big as a hawk, and had crimson red fur. The monstrous creature stared down at me with tiny black eyes.

“You met Lapis,” said Bianka of the bat.

“Yes,” I answered meekly.

“Come here, Lapis,” Bianka commanded. The bat glided down to her shoulder like a trained falcon. “Lapis keeps us on our toes when our attention strays.”

“Let’s go,” she said. “The others are waiting.”

“The others?”

“Yeah,” said Margo. “It is your birthday night!”

“But it’s not my birthday yet!” I said. It wasn’t possible I had been kept in that room throughout the whole winter.

“Yes it is,” countered Sonia. “You are reborn today. You are a brand new person.” And with no further delay they took me by my hands and led me along the darkened hallway of my old school. I knew it was evening because no light came from the windows. The walls were festooned with crepe-paper flowers and portraits of Archibald the Precious. Lapis flew alongside us as we walked. The girls sang a quiet song that I had never heard before; they all knew the lyrics and looked back and forth between one another, as though the song brought on great memories for them. Everybody just seemed so happy; it made me feel strange and kind of bad for being suspicious of them.