The End of Time (9 page)

Umber was still sleeping hours later—peacefully, Balfour reported after checking on him—and eventually the others found their own ways to occupy their time. Sophie worked on her paintings in her studio upstairs, and Oates went to the gatehouse for a game of cards with the guardsmen. Balfour popped into the kitchen to bake something, while Hap wandered down to the archives. He expected a harsh, unpleasant reply when he knocked on the door, and Umber’s archivist did not disappoint him.

“Go away! Or at least say why you’re bothering me.”

Hap peeked through the small window in the door. He saw Smudge, wild-haired and dirty-faced as always, sitting at a large oak table with scrolls spread out before him. “It’s me, Smudge. Happenstance. I was wondering if you wanted any help with translations.”

Smudge’s fierce expression softened a bit. Once he’d learned about Hap’s uncanny understanding of all languages—another gift of the Meddlers—he’d come to value Hap’s ability to decode ancient documents. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Come in.” He didn’t look up from his scroll as Hap approached the table, but he pointed at a dusty leather-bound book. “That’s a Dwergh book that somebody just sent us.”

Hap picked it up. “Do you mind if I take it to the grand hall to read it?”

Smudge looked up with his shaggy eyebrows gathered in a scowl. “Don’t spill anything on it.”

“Also,” Hap ventured, “if you have anything about trolls, or the caverns under the Aerie, I’d like to read those, too.”

Smudge shook his head and said something distasteful under his breath, but he plunged into the rows of shelves and returned with an armful of volumes. Hap scooped them up and headed to the door, eager to leave, but Smudge cleared his throat and said something to him from behind. “Boy . . . tell me again how Brother Caspar died.”

With a gulp, Hap turned back. He saw Smudge with his head tilted down and his eyes peering up, tugging at the mess of his beard with both hands. Hap bit his lip. “Didn’t Balfour explain?”

Smudge nodded. His voice was quiet and ragged. “But Balfour wasn’t there. You were. I want to hear it from you.”

Hap hugged the ancient books to his chest. “We . . . we went back to the island of Desolas, where your brother was trapped by the curse of the bidmis. A man who was chasing us fired an arrow at Umber, but it struck Caspar instead.”

Smudge twisted his beard. “Did he suffer greatly?”

Hap felt a lump form in his throat. They had all agreed that Smudge should never learn what happened next: that they had brought Caspar’s body to be devoured by the soul crabs, so those awful creatures could speak in his voice and reveal the location of the archives that he’d stolen from Lord Umber. They did it because the fate of another world might depend on the retrieval of those secrets. But now they had to live with the terrible notion that they might have committed Caspar’s soul to an even darker fate.

“No,” Hap said, when he was able to respond. “That was the end of his suffering. I think he was relieved, in a way. To finally escape the bidmis.”

Smudge smoothed his beard, coughed, and raised himself out of his perpetual hunch. “I see.” Something else was on Smudge’s mind, Hap could see, and so he waited.

“I suppose I am Umber’s archivist now. For good, I mean. Since Brother Caspar will not come back.”

Hap inclined his head. “Yes, I suppose you are.”

Smudge squeezed his eyes nearly shut and scratched inside his ear. “Is it wrong to be glad about that, while I also mourn the loss of my brother?”

“I suppose not,” Hap said, uncertain of his own reply. “I’ll see you later, all right?”

 
CHAPTER
10

Hap was nibbling on muffins that
Balfour had baked, with Smudge’s volumes pushed safely aside, when Sophie rushed down the stairs. A patch of fresh paint glistened on her smock. “Lord Umber is awake, but I think something’s wrong with him!”

Lady Truden shot up from her chair. “What? What’s the matter?”

Sophie gulped and averted her eyes. “You should come up and see.”

Tru dashed for the stairs, running with the sides of her gown bunched in her fists. Hap and Sophie followed, not daring to pass her. Hap heard Balfour and Oates rushing to join them.

When they reached the terrace, they were startled to hear Umber hooting and laughing. He was shirtless, standing behind one of the largest planters on the terrace with a shovel in his hand. Dirt was flung all around him, and the small tree that previously occupied the planter had been uprooted and cast aside. Umber climbed onto the waist-high planter to stomp down the fresh pile of dirt. Oates snorted out a laugh. It was clear then that Umber was pantsless as well as shirtless, and in fact was entirely naked except for the striped socks that reached to his knees. He began to sing loudly, drawing out the notes and laughing: “Oh give me a home, where the buffalo rooooooaaaaam!”

Sophie turned away, blushing. Lady Truden cried out and covered her face with her hands, though Hap was pretty sure he saw her peering out from between parted fingers.

“What’s the matter with him?” Tru shouted.

“At least he’s not depressed,” Balfour said, chuckling.

“This isn’t funny, you old fool,” Tru shot back. “What sort of plant did that idiot wizard give you?”

“You’re the one who made the tea,” Oates reminded her.

Umber raised his face to the sky and howled more of the song.
“And the deer and the antelope plaaaaaaay, ha-ha!”

Tru jabbed Balfour’s chest with a finger. “Don’t blame this on me. I did exactly what you told me! I made tea from seventy leaves!”

“What is an anti-lope?” Oates wondered.

“Seventy?” cried Balfour. “There’s the trouble. I told you seventeen.”

Umber held the shovel horizontally in two hands, and kicked one way, and then the other. “Where seldom is heeeard . . .”

“You told me seventy!” Tru shouted, snarling. “There’s nothing wrong with my ears.”

“I heard him say seventeen,” Oates said flatly.
That settles that,
thought Hap.

“. . . a discouraging wooooooord!”

With an anguished cry, Tru fell to her knees. She dropped her face into her hands, and her body convulsed with sobs. “Oh, my dear Umber, what have I done to you?”

“Give him time, Tru,” Balfour said, patting her shoulder. “I bet he’ll calm down. And it’s better than moping for weeks, isn’t it? Oates, why don’t you help Umber down from there and put his clothes back on him.”

“I’d rather not touch him,” Oates replied, looking at Umber from head to toe.

“
And the skiiiies are not cloudy all daaaaay!
Ha-ha!” Umber tossed the shovel over his shoulder and scooped up soil with both hands and flung it in the air. He smiled upward with his eyes and mouth closed as it rained back down on his face.

Balfour sighed heavily. “Come on, Hap. You too, Oates. We’ll all do it. Sophie, help Tru downstairs, will you?”

Hap gathered the clothes that were scattered around the terrace. Oates gripped Umber below the armpits and held him up. Balfour tugged Umber’s pants back on with his face turned away, and he couldn’t help but laugh while he did it. Hap chuckled as well, despite his own concern for Umber’s sanity. Umber found their struggle hilarious. “Looky, boys, I went and did it!” he cried, barely able to squeeze the words out between his guffaws.

Balfour pulled the shirt over Umber’s head. “Did what, Umber?”

“Helloooo!” cried Umber as his head popped up from the collar. “I planted it, of course!”

“I think he means that thorny nut,” Hap said.

“Exactly!” Umber said, and he started to sing again. “
In a canyon, in a cavern, excavaaaaaating for a mine
. . .” But then his eyelids fluttered, his head lolled, and his voice slurred. “You guys are my pals. I think I’ll take another nap.”

“That’s a fine idea,” Balfour said. Umber drifted off a moment later, and Balfour turned to Hap and Oates. “But this time, let’s keep an eye on him.”

Once Umber was tucked away again, they gathered in the great hall. Sophie’s cheeks were still as red as a rose, while Lady Tru’s face was hidden behind her hands as she slumped at the table. “The only misstep,” Balfour said, “was quadrupling the dosage.” That observation prompted an inarticulate groan from Lady Tru.

Dodd strode into the room. “Visitors coming,” he said. “On horseback, not in a carriage. I believe it’s Umber’s female acquaintance.” He winked at Hap. “And her little friend, too.”

Hap straightened up and stretched his neck. Sophie was across the table from him, and he saw vertical lines appear between her eyebrows.

Lady Tru took her hands off her face. “That woman again? She’s a regular nuisance, if you ask me.”

Balfour puffed air out of the side of his mouth. “Everything’s happening at once today, isn’t it? Dodd, this is not the best time for that young lady to visit, especially after what happened last time. Let’s just tell them Umber’s not in, shall we?”

“I’ll handle these visitors,” Lady Tru said, and she pushed away from the table.

“I bet you will,” Balfour muttered.

Dodd stepped back, allowing Tru plenty of room to pass. When she was out of earshot, he put his hand next to his mouth and, always the impromptu poet, quietly recited:

“Of all the beasties, there are few,

Who frighten me like Lady Tru.”

Hap was suddenly aware that he was fidgeting madly in his seat, with his knees bouncing and his hands rubbing together. “Come on, Hap,” Balfour said, with a sly look on his grizzled face. “Why don’t we go down and say hello? They’re your friends too.”

“All right,” Hap said. He stood, with a flush of anticipation that faded when he saw Sophie twist away to hide her face. Hap wondered why she did that; she could be difficult to understand at times. But his own feelings were just as hard to decipher, he realized; at that moment he was torn between going downstairs to see Fay and Sable, and remaining where he was at the table with Sophie. Balfour was already on his way, so he followed the old man.

“You could take the lift and save your knees,” Hap said, catching up to him.

“I’m feeling spry at the moment,” Balfour said cheerfully. He stopped at the top landing and raised an arm to hold Hap back. Balfour cocked his head to listen, and Hap was surprised to hear Fay’s voice inside the Aerie.

“She let them inside?” Balfour muttered with a frown. “Why would she do that?”

“I’m sorry, but Lord Umber is in no frame of mind to receive visitors,” Lady Tru said.

Balfour’s expression darkened and Hap felt his own blood begin to boil. “But, Balfour, you said we should tell them—”

“I know!” Balfour tried to mask his anger as he made his way down the stairs. Hap followed and saw Fay and Sable below.

“You have to understand, Lord Umber is not well,” Lady Truden said to Fay. Her hands were clasped at her waist, and the smug set of her mouth made Hap want to scream.

Balfour coughed, loudly, and Sable looked up. She gasped when she spotted Hap, and hopped up and down with her hand waving madly. Fay looked up next, and seemed relieved to see Balfour and Hap, if only to have someone else to speak to besides the contemptuous silver-haired woman who towered over her.

“Balfour,” Fay said. “How good to see you again. And you, Master Happenstance.”

“Hullo, Hap!” cried Sable.

“A pleasure, my lady,” Balfour said, wincing as an ache flared in his leg. He started to limp, and Hap stepped down next to him so that Balfour could put a hand on his shoulder. They were halfway down the stairs. “I don’t know what Lady Truden has just told you, but I’m sure Lord Umber will—”

Lady Truden interrupted to finish Balfour’s sentence. “Be quite happy if you leave him alone to recover in peace.” Hap felt Balfour’s grip tighten on his shoulder.

“That terrible sadness . . . Lord Umber still is not recovered?” Fay said.

“I’m afraid not,” Lady Truden said.

“Tru!” snapped Balfour.

Fay looked up at Balfour and back at Lady Tru. “But he sent flowers to the palace. I assumed he was well again, and came to thank him.”

“He
is
well,” Balfour said with a vigorous nod. “Recovering just fine, in fact. But he’s resting now. I know he’s eager to see you, however, and . . .” Balfour’s voice creaked to a stop, because a faint sound echoed from the upper floor of the Aerie, through the gaps in the floors that allowed the lift to pass. They heard it faintly over the rush of water that flowed through the channel in the ground floor of the Aerie. It was a wild, almost maniacal laughter, followed by another song: the one that Umber had heard whistled in the market.

“Take me out to the ball game . . . take me out with the crowd!”

Fay peered up past the ropes and platforms of the lift. “Is that Lord Umber?”

“Um. I believe it is,” Balfour said. His eyes stretched wide, and his fingers clutched Hap’s shoulder.

“Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack, I don’t care if I never get back!”

“He doesn’t sound sad at all,” Sable said, squinting up.

No, he sounds like a lunatic,
Hap thought. He and Balfour had frozen side by side, and he didn’t think either one of them was breathing.

Something terrible happened. The gears of the lift were suddenly engaged, and the platforms began to move. On one of the first platforms to drop down from the floor above, Hap saw a pair of empty trousers dangling. They slipped off and fluttered to the floor below, not far from where Fay and Sable stood. “Oh, crackers,” Balfour muttered. He spoke quickly into Hap’s ear. “Bad news. Umber started the lift from upstairs. Go throw the switch at the bottom and stop it, as fast as you can. I think he’s naked again.”

Hap thundered down the steps. He tried to present a calm, friendly smile to Fay and Sable as their heads turned to watch him, but the best he could manage was a maniacal clenching of his teeth. At the foot of the lift, where the rushing water powered the machinery, he shoved the lever back. The lift rattled to a stop with the ropes quivering. Hap looked up with his breath poised inside his chest. High overhead, just below the hole in the ceiling, he saw a pair of skinny bare legs up to the knees.
That was close,
Hap thought.

“What’s this?” Umber cried merrily. The bare legs hopped up and down on the platform. “Something’s amiss with the lift! Is anybody down there? Start me up again! Helloooo!”

Oates’s head appeared at the top of the stairs. “Umber is awake again,” he said.

Balfour squinted and rubbed the side of his face. “That’s helpful, Oates. Can you put him back in that room for the time being? Sit on him if you have to.”

Oates stuck out his tongue and vanished back into the grand hall. A moment later Umber’s bare legs levitated up and out of sight. “What’s this?” Umber cried with a laugh. “Oh, it’s you, Oates! Are we going somewhere? I just remembered a song—I’ll sing it for you!” The voice faded away.

Hap puffed out a deep breath and looked back at their visitors. Fay and Sable were gaping, openmouthed. Hap saw the corner of Lady Truden’s mouth turn up, and his hand crunched into a fist.

“I don’t understand,” Fay said, looking at Balfour with her hand pressed to her heart. “Before, it was sadness. Now he sounds giddy, almost mad. This . . . this is not the man I met before, who saved us in Sarnica.”

“He is a troubled man,” Lady Truden said, shaking her head sadly. “Perhaps you both should leave us now. I believe you were staying with Prince Loden at the palace? The rumor is you and he are quite inseparable.”

“Tru!” Balfour snapped. He’d finally hobbled to the bottom of the stairs. His face was an angry shade of purple as he stepped inches away from Lady Truden. He spoke quietly, his voice filled with fury. “I know what you’re doing, and why. Now get upstairs. All the way upstairs, and out of sight. When Umber recovers, I’m telling him how you treated our guests. Now
go
!”

Lady Tru’s lips pressed so tightly together that they turned white. She whirled and stomped upstairs, with Balfour’s glare practically igniting the hair on the back of her head.

“Golly,” whispered Sable when Lady Tru was gone. Hap could see the whites all around her eyes.

Fay took Sable’s hand and stepped back. “Perhaps we should go.”

“Please don’t,” Hap said.

“That’s right,” Balfour said. He took Fay’s free hand and clasped it inside both of his. “Umber will never forgive me if I don’t explain what you’ve seen these last two visits. The Umber you first met is the true Umber, I promise you. And you will see that man again, before long. Please, my lady. Stay for a while, and let us talk.”

Sable tugged at Fay’s other hand. “Please, Aunt Fay. Just for a little while.” Her dark eyes stared at Hap in a way that made his stomach flutter.