The Magic Mirror of the Mermaid Queen - Delia Sherman [66]
“I don’t think she’s here,” I said.
“You could ask that guy at the counter,” Airboy said.
“Why do I have to do all the asking? You have a mouth, don’t you?”
He smiled. “It doesn’t work as well as yours.”
The guy at the counter was actually a woman in a shapeless tweed coat, polishing a glass with a dirty towel. She glared down at me. “You think I’m going to pull you a beer, Short Stuff, you’ve got another think coming.”
“I’m looking for a girl. Mortal, blonde. Her face is all scratched up. She hasn’t been here long.”
The woman jerked her chin toward the band. “Woolworth’s down by the stage, last table on the left,” she said. “Ugly girl, and I ain’t talking about the bandage. You sure you want to find her?”
Woolworth?
We made our way forward. The guitars dropped out and the drummer started banging on the drums like he was trying to break them to pieces. Airboy tugged at my sleeve and pointed.
At first I didn’t recognize her. Big dark coat, fingerless gloves, a dirty turban wound over long, lank hair. But the profile was familiar.
I sat down. “Hi, Tiffany.”
Tiffany turned to me and I winced. The whole left side of her face was wrapped with layers of cloth, like a mummy. The tail of a red, scabby scratch crawled down her neck and into the collar of her coat. She bared her still perfect teeth in a sarcastic grin, turned away, and went back to banging her fist rhythmically on the table.
I tapped her arm. She answered with a gesture I’d never seen before. I guessed it meant “no.”
The singer started to screech like a banshee. The music thudded angrily in my skull. My heart was beating so hard it felt like it was going to tear through my chest. I grabbed my jade frog.
It was breathing.
Startled, I pulled it out and squinted at it. The candle caught its ruby eye, and for the second time, it winked at me.
I knew what I was supposed to do next, of course. I just didn’t want to. The frog was my frog—my present from Fleet, the only thing I got on last summer’s quest that I could keep. I wouldn’t even give it to Espresso or Fortran, let alone my enemy, that wicked-witch-in-training, Tiffany of Park Avenue.
Which was just exactly why I had to.
I clung to it, ignoring my throbbing ears and Airboy’s puzzled black eyes. Then I lifted the black silk cord over my head, caught Tiffany’s pounding hand, and laid the frog into it.
Tiffany brought the frog up to her good eye and examined it. She looked at me, the still beautiful half of her face expressionless. Then she hung the frog around her neck, got up, and marched up to the bar, with Airboy and me scrambling after.
“Back room empty, Rummy?” she asked the massive woman.
“Sure thing. Just clean up after yourself, and remember—blood attracts vampires.”
I didn’t think this was funny, but Tiffany did. She was still chuckling as she led us down a dirty corridor to a tiny, dark room furnished with a lamp, a sofa, and a desk.
She flung herself down on the sofa, one booted foot on the cushion. “Congratulations,” she said. “You found me. What can I do to make you go away?”
Getting half killed and booted out of her Neighborhood had not made Tiffany any nicer. “You can tell us what happened to the Mermaid Queen’s mirror.”
“Bergdorf!” Tiffany spat the word out like a curse. “Some freaking friend she is.”
Airboy shrugged. “Well, she did save your life.”
“Big whoop. Anything else? Because if there isn’t, I want to go back and catch the rest of Mortal Coil’s set.”
There weren’t enough numbers in New York Between to calm me down enough to deal with Tiffany. I’d barely started counting when Airboy went into his gremlins-in-a-sack act.
Tiffany sneered. “Your boyfriend’s got cooties.”
I stopped myself from telling her Airboy wasn’t my boyfriend.
Airboy’s hands reemerged from the sweater. He was holding a blue jar. “Beauty cream. Very highest quality, from one of the best glamourists in the Garment District. Guaranteed to clear the complexion, brighten the skin, and smooth superficial scars.”
Tiffany’s visible eye