The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making - Catherynne M. Valente [83]
The wrench, September thought. They recognize the wrench! Of course they do, it’s Queen Mallow’s sword! They must still be bound by some feline fealty to it, even if she is gone.
Just then, Gleam came spiraling back down the rain-slick towers. She tucked in behind the boulders and kept her golden letters dampened and dim.
Your friends are in the highest cell.
I think the red one is sick.
“Oh, Ell! I’m coming!” September whispered.
Together, September and Gleam approached the gate. September tried to be as bold as the little green version of herself in the tidepool. But of course tidepool girls don’t sweat and breathe very fast and worry about their Wyveraries. The lions were ever so much bigger than she remembered. A line of silver light shone under their furry blue eyelids. September wondered if they were always on the verge of waking, if they ever did wake, and if, perhaps, they were kind and dear when they did, and not vicious at all. She held up the copper wrench, and it flashed in the lightning-shadows. The waiting was horrible--September winced, prepared for the blow of a great paw. But they lay down, gently, the left one first, and then the right. They put their paws over their eyes.
September ran at the door and hauled it open, her bare feet slipping in the rain. She slipped inside, and Gleam behind her, chased by three thunderclaps, all in a row: crash, boom, crack.
Warm firelight turned the Lonely Gaol cheerful and ruddy. A great white hearth crackled and snapped with fresh logs. Filigree silver torches shone on the walls. A long, rich rug of every possible color swept over the grand floor. The lumpy glass walls showed the storm still raging outside, but instead of a terror it had the effect of a beautiful painting hung in a fine hall. The boiling clouds were quiet and brilliant, blue and violet and pale gold all bleeding into one another. Rain spattered the buttresses and left sparkling drops like cast off diamonds. A few stars even peeked through the ceiling, their light filtering down through many thin, spiral staircases.
A door at the far end of the hall burst open. September started and steeled herself to fight, if she had to. All that mattered was getting up the staircase and finding Saturday and Ell, whoever she had to go through to do it.
A peal of delighted laughter echoed through the glass room and a little girl in a frilly white dress ran full-tilt across the many-colored rug, her golden curls bouncing. She embraced September like a long-lost sister, still laughing and exclaiming with joy.
“Oh, September, you’re safe! I’m so happy you’ve come, finally, and not a scratch on you!”
The Marquess pulled away and cupped September’s face in her hands.
“What fun we are going to have!” She exclaimed.
“Fun?” September cried, still dripping, sopping wet. “Fun? You stole my friends and set the Tsukumogami after me! I broke my leg and I almost died and I almost froze in the storm! And you cheated! I could have gotten the wrench back to you in seven days and none of this would have happened! And now Ell is sick and he needs me and this is fun?”
September could not help it. Before she even knew she had done it, she slapped the Marquess across the face. But the Marquess’s hair flushed pale blue and she just laughed again. She used her laugh like a little knife. September's hand-print flushed on her face.
“Of course I cheated. Why wouldn’t I cheat? If I hadn’t cheated, you would have brought me the sword like a good little questing knight, and it would have been of no use to me whatsoever. I can’t touch the ridiculous thing. I needed you. Here, in this place, with your loyal blade at your side.”
“Then why tell all that furniture to kill me?”
The Marquess cocked her head to one side. Her black hat bobbed merrily.
“September, I had to make it look real. Otherwise