The Magic Mirror of the Mermaid Queen - Delia Sherman [2]
“But you are growing up,” Astris said. “And school is part of it. Think of it as your reward for surviving your quest.”
The Pooka picked up the last cookie. “The truth is,” he said, waving it at me, “you’re the official Central Park changeling. When you get big, you’ll do whatever it is official changelings do. Which we haven’t a notion of, not having had one since before the Genius Wars. And that’s why you must go to school—to learn official changelinging.”
I looked at the Pooka and Astris and my cooling tea and the empty plate. I got up. “I’m hot,” I said. “I’m going for a swim.”
I took off before they could react. When I reached the courtyard, I heard Astris chittering behind me. I speeded up. I needed to move, I needed to think, I needed to get away from the Pooka’s eyebrows and Astris’s anxious whiskers.
And I was hot.
Astris and I live in Belvedere Castle, high on a rocky cliff between the wooded hill of the Ramble and Central Park Central, the big field where all the Fairy Gatherings are. I swim in the Turtle Pond, which is at the foot of the cliff. The only way down is to follow the path through the Shakespeare Garden to the stair cut into the cliffside.
It was a hot, muggy afternoon, all white sky and dust and sticky sweat down my back. The shadows of the Shakespeare Garden looked cool, but weren’t. I slowed down and pulled up the hem of my T-shirt to wipe the sweat out of my eyes. As I passed the big mulberry tree, a voice floated down from the branches: “I know something you don’t know.”
I looked up, and saw the hobgoblin Puck, grinning slyly at me through the leaves.
My life is full of tricksters. I know how to deal with them.
“Don’t you always?” I said. “Well, guess what? I don’t care who the Willow weeps for or where the Squirrel King hides his nuts.”
Puck grinned wider and started to chant. “School days, school days, dear old Golden Rule days.”
I groaned. “Am I the only person in Central Park who didn’t know I’m going to school tomorrow?”
“Lord, what fools these mortals be.”
“All right, Puck. If you know so much, tell me. What’s school like?”
Puck made a wry face. “Readin’ and ’ritin’ and ’rithmetic, taught to the tune of a hick’ry stick.” He shrugged. “What know I of mortal ignorance, Neef, save that it is boundless?”
He stuck out his tongue, long and red and pointed, then disappeared among the mulberry leaves, leaving me feeling like an idiot, as usual.
At least nobody at school could tease me about being a mortal.
At the Pond, I shed my jeans and cannonballed into the water, splashing the ducks who’d been dabbling, tail-up, in the shallows.
They popped upright, sputtering and coughing. “Why don’tcha watch where you’re goin’?” they quacked angrily.
I dove into the water and frogged my way through the cool, green dimness, scattering fish and upsetting the turtles. I didn’t care. I had to move, or I’d jump out of my skin.
It wasn’t just having school sprung on me and the Pooka eating all the cookies. I’d been crabby and restless ever since I came home from my quest.
The thing was, I’d learned there was more to New York Between than just Central Park. I’d been to Broadway. I’d played the Riddle Game with the Mermaid Queen of New York Harbor and done a deal with the Dragon of Wall Street and lived to tell about it. I’d even met my fairy twin, which was a trip all by itself. I’d had a real Fairy-tale Adventure.
After that, Central Park felt kind of tame. Here I was, officially the hero and champion of Central Park, and I still had to keep my room clean and go to bed when Astris told me to. It was enough to make a tree scream.
When I got tired of swimming, I floated on my back, looked up into the hazy white sky, and wondered what school would be like. Would there be a lot of rules, like the