The Magic Mirror of the Mermaid Queen - Delia Sherman [27]
I took a deep breath. “I want to ask a question of the Magic Magnifying Mirror.”
Apparently, this was exactly the wrong thing to say. The Lady grew taller and incredibly skinnier. Her eyes spun like sparklers. Her head tipped back and started to grow into her neck, and she started to hiss like a kettle boiling over.
Part of me shook like a tanuki’s belly. Another part, trained by the Diplomat, noticed that the Lady’s fangs stayed folded in her mouth and that Councilor Snuggles didn’t bother to move away from her tail. Was it possible that this fairy fit was more for show than for real?
I took a harder grip on my fingers. “Very scary. But I’m not going away until I get my boon.”
The Lady-serpent hissed. “I am the Genius of the Green Places of New York. Who are you, to make demands of me?”
At last—a question I could answer. “I’m your champion. I got the mirror for you in the first place. That gives me rights.”
To my surprise and relief, the Lady shrank back to her usual size.
“Okay, you’re my champion. You got rights. I didn’t blast you for getting on my nerves. That’s plenty of rights for one day. Now go away.”
There was something about her voice and the way she wasn’t looking at me that reminded me of Fortran telling the Diplomat that he hadn’t put beans down Lightbulb’s back. Folk can’t lie, but they can mislead.
“Genius of the Green Places,” I said formally, “Green Lady of Manhattan Island, Guardian of the City’s Heart. As your champion and your Voice, I charge you to answer me: Where is the Magic Magnifying Mirror of the Mermaid Queen?”
Councilor Snuggles winked at me.
The Lady bit her lip. “You’re asking as my champion?”
“And your Voice.”
The Lady sighed. “All right. I’ll tell you. When a Voice asks, a Genius answers. That’s the rule.”
I waited.
The Green Lady yawned and looked up at the sky, where a nail-clipping moon balanced on the treetops. “What were we talking about again?”
“The Mermaid Queen’s mirror.”
Emerald eyes gazed into mine. “You’re a good kid. Smart. Brave, too. Great Voice material. I always knew it.”
“Thank you, Lady. Now tell me about the mirror.”
Her dreads gave a slither. “I lost it.”
I thought about the Diplomat and kept my eyes steady on the Lady’s face.
The Lady’s hair retreated into a quivering braid.
“That’s too bad.” My voice was astonishingly level. “Do you have any idea where you might have lost it?”
“Somewhere green?”
Calm. Poise. Pleasant expression. “In Central Park, maybe?”
“I don’t think—nah. Definitely not.” She lifted her chin defensively. “I’m on it, though. Remember the scavenger hunt?”
I’d totally forgotten the scavenger hunt. “Of course. The scavenger hunt. How did it work out?”
Snuggles gave a bark of laughter. “It would’ve been great if we’d been looking for mica chips and tinfoil. We also scored some silver earrings and a couple mirrors in plastic frames and some sharp metal disks with rings on top that smelled like tuna fish. Everything came from Central Park. The other Green Places didn’t play.”
I sighed. “Well, at least we know it’s not here.”
“You have any idea how many Green Places there are in New York Between, little mortal?” Snuggles asked.
Of course I knew. When I was very little, Astris sang me to sleep with them: Fort Tryon, Riverside, Gramercy, East River, Inwood, Washington Square, Bryant, Morningside. And those were just the big ones. It was hopeless. Even if the Pooka let me quit school and I spent every minute of the next three months looking, I’d never find the Mermaid’s mirror.
“That stupid mirror,” the Lady said, “has been more trouble than it’s worth. I wish I’d never heard of it.”
“Me, too,” I said, “seeing how everybody in the Park is going to get poisoned.”
The Lady ignored this. “I can never remember how to turn the dumb thing on, and when I get you to fire it up, it won’t answer my questions.”
I stared at her. This, I thought, was what the Diplomat referred to as a piece of unearned luck. “So you’d be willing to give it back to the Mermaid Queen?