Treachery of Kings

TWENTY-THREE

Letitia Louise, queasy, slightly out of sorts and weak in the knees, completely forgot about petrified potentates and calcified kings the moment they reached the top of the twisted stairs.

The sight before her was spacious, immense, though neither word could describe the beauty and grandeur of the place. Another, even greater dome of glass arched a good hundred feet above the floor, and was easily twice as wide. Countless delicate shards of fractured glass clung together in spiderwebs of lead. Unlike the brighter hues in the Holy Place of Emperors, Tyrants and Kings, the glass here was a thousand, muted shades of amber, rose, coral, saffron and tangerine. And, scarcely there at all, lest keen eyes searched them out, pale breaths of lilac, lavender and beryl-blue.

The startling effect of these colors was a light that painted every surface, infused the very air, with the subtle magic of golden dawn.

Yet, there were still more marvels in this wondrous room. From the base of the dome, from depths as azure as the sea, sprouted shadowy lengths of stone, impossibly thin columns that rose on tapered stems to blossom into broad, graceful petals, shapely lily pads.

These elegant circlets were of different heights, some stretching nearly to the top of the dome itself. Fifty or so, Finn guessed, and maybe more. The giant stems were made of alabaster, olivine, milkstone and quartz. Opal, onyx and jade. Finn stared in disbelief at these structures, for he knew such stones, minerals and gems couldn't possibly stand under the stress of this magnificent design, even if such staggering amounts of these materials could be found.

“Yet, it is there, indeed,” Finn said aloud. “And though I've found it wise to question many things I see, I believe there are a great many people eating breakfast here, and they don't look dead to me.”

“If I were deeply entombed,” Letitia said, “I feel that I'd get hungry too.”

“It smells good as well,” Julia said, with a rusty sigh. “I've already separated seventeen individual scents, all of them edible, eight of which I wouldn't touch if I were you.”

“I would rather decide that myself, if it's all the same to you. A mechanical device that doesn't eat is not the best judge of fine cuisine.”

“Do the words ‘toxic,’ ‘venomous,’ ‘poison,’ have any meaning to you? Consider ‘fatal,’ if you will.”

“Come now, sir and Miss, and lizard, I believe,” said Dostagio. “I shall find you a comfortable table at a level suited to your class, and see that you're served dishes I am certain will please and delight, and do you little harm at all… “

Narrow, circling stairs twisted around the sides of the dome, now and then leading to fragile, hanging bridges that joined one pad to the next-frail, swaying spans that looked more decorative than useful to Finn.

“Don't look down,” he said. “You'll likely get queasy, nauseous, feverish, and dizzy as well. You may suffer chills, diarrhea or fits.”

“How do you know, Finn?”

“Because four of those things are happening to me, and I expect the others will as well.”

“If you fall, dear, I'm eating your breakfast. Think about that.”

Julia Jessica Slagg, certain she could easily cross this span herself, came across in Letitia's arms, chuckling with a sound like rocks rattling about in a can.

I cannot get used to the disparity, the contrast here. As you say, these persons of the Toomer persuasion lie in the chill, dreary depths of the palace, then pop up for lunch in this marvelous place. Letitia, look around you. I doubt there's a structure on earth that can claim such a blend of art and architectural beauty.”

“I wonder if we can ever get a waiter over here. Everything smells delicious, and I'm starving, Finn.”

“I'm certain someone will be along. You've noticed, I guess, that Dostagio was right. Seating in this place is clearly determined by rank. Those folk in cheap, clashing colors directly above us are courtiers, toadies, parasites of every sort. I can spot their kind anywhere. They all look like Count VanDork at Aghenfleck's court.

“The ones directly above them are of noble birth. They all look very much alike, for they are related to one another in various ways. No chins, bad hair. Folk who wear satin and have someone tie their shoes.”

“And up in the heights,” Letitia finished, “where we cannot see, that would be the King, above all the rest?”

“Indeed. You can rest assured the royals will be just out of sight.”

And, Finn noted, even if one couldn't see the King and his family and his favorites gathered about, they would look like kings were supposed to look, for sure. Cunning, sly, with penetrating eyes and a practiced smile. And, though they managed to follow a train of thought sometimes, not overly bright.

As he watched, craning his neck to see the sight, something hurtled down from the heights-a single object, then another after that. The first was half a cake, plummeting end over end, a chocolate comet trailing dark crumbs in its wake.

The second was a blur, possibly a peach. It came very close to the edge of Finn's alabaster pad, then splattered on the diners below. A lady cursed, but was quickly hushed, for it was clear the missive came from royal hands above.

The food was delightful, or surely fine enough for Finn and Letitia, who had not had a morsel since they'd dropped on this land in ill-fated balloons.

As far as Finn was concerned, their server was much too close a match to Dostagio. As if, like the other, he too was decked out to play a role at the ball.

“There seem to be quite a few of them about,” Letitia said, mopping up a lake of eggs, squashberries and mush with a heel of poppy bread.

“You don't believe what Dostagio told us, do you, dear? I mean, how he's one of the Gracious Dead.”

“No more than I believe the King actually dies for nine months, then comes up for lunch. No, it's a religious rite of some sort, and a very peculiar one at that.

“Do I believe they believe it? Oh, yes. You certainly recall our misadventure among the Hooters and the Hatters. A zealot, a loony, can hound you to death, whether his faith is real or not.”

“If I were you, Finn-and I'm only a mechanical de-vice-I would keep my voice down a bit, as several of those zealots and loonies over there are giving us the eye.”

“Yes, well.” Finn pretended to gaze at something else nearby, and saw that Julia was right. Two stocky louts, with coal-black beards and brows that sprouted like hedges above their eyes, were indeed scowling Finn's way. Both wore brown waistcoats, full pantaloons, ruffled collars and plume-bedecked hats, all in colors that assaulted Finn's eyes.

“Thank you, Julia, I should have taken a care.”

There was little Finn despised more than admitting Julia was right, and he couldn't resist the chance to take a little back.

“It might be, however, they have simply never seen a lizard before. I'm sure I wouldn't know what to make of you if I hadn't thought you up in my head. I expect I'd be appalled at the sight.”

“More likely awed, amazed, I should say. Stunned, astonished at such a marvel before your eyes. Rapt, totally overwhelmed-”

“Dostagio didn't seem impressed at all,” Letitia added, reaching across to fork a puffball or two. She wouldn't touch the carp, for Mycer folk did not eat things that had once been alive.

“Though that surprises me not at all,” she added, “for whatever the First Servant might be, he and the others of his kind, he is not like any human I've come across before. It's not a Newlie behind that somber face, I'll tell you that.”

“Julia?” Letitia set down her fork and gave the lizard a thoughtful look. “With all your extraordinary senses-”

“Extraordinary, indeed, Letitia, in nearly every way. But I don't sense anything in the fellow. I can't get past that somber mien. I've tried, but I cannot.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. It is much like trying to penetrate a stone.”

“Damned peculiar, I'd say,” Finn said.

Letitia sighed. “I don't know if you can use such a word in a place like this. Odd, and unusual, seem quite ordinary here.”

“I'm not sorry I got the chance to see this marvelous sight,” Finn said, “but I won't be sorry to finish what we came for, and get out of here. The peace and serenity of Garpenny Street are more to my liking, I don't have to tell either of you that.

“And, incidentally, Julia, I have been having some exciting ideas in the area of utilizing your enhanced senses to make incredibly small mechanical devices. Devices, that in turn, could produce even smaller devices still.

“We have discussed this often before, and I believe we can move along with it now. As soon as we can head for home, of course. I don't feel there's much use in exchanging scientific thoughts here-”

As if in answer, as if real life were a playlet or a mime, a familiar actor appeared to speak his lines.

“Ah, Master Finn, Miss, and lizard as well,” Dostagio said, standing alarmingly close to the edge of the dining pad, “I have spoken with Eighth Tallest Chancellor Heffik-Lor, who has carried my message to Fifth Heaviest Councilor Cletz, who “Well, to the point, sir, which is that your presence, your mission, has reached the ears of the King, and His Grace wishes to say he does not desire your gift, and he would like you out of his presence at once.”

“What? What's that?” Finn found it hard to comprehend what the fellow had to say.

“Not immediately, sir, for there is quite a storm rushing at us from the south, and His Grace is a kindly man, in his way. It will not be possible to launch any craft of the aerial persuasion, and he would not be responsible for your demise, your, ah-death, as it were. Not that there's anything wrong with that, you understand…”