Un Lun Dun - China Mieville [76]
“Get on with it, it’s fine,” the book said testily. “Hand me over.” Deeba took it, slipped the paper between its pages, and closed it. The book made a sound like chewing.
“Mmm…” it said. It sounded surprised. “Well…it’s definitely genuine Wraithtown—”
“Wait!” A voice interrupted them. Everyone looked up.
Swooping down in a shadowy cloud of broken umbrellas, Mr. Brokkenbroll was dropping towards them out of the sky.
“Hold on!” he shouted as he careered for them. “There’s been a terrible misunderstanding.”
“Ah, Unbrellissimo,” Mortar shouted up. “Perhaps you can clear things up.”
“What?” Deeba said. “He’s in on it! You have to stop him! How come he can get on the bridge?”
“Of course we showed him how,” Mortar said. “He’s an ally in the battle.”
“Calm down, Deeba,” said Lectern. “There’s no need to worry.”
“Actually, you know, I think we should hear her out,” the book said, but the Propheseers weren’t listening. Hemi edged towards Deeba.
“Unstible frightened the girl,” Brokkenbroll said. He landed on the Pons in a swirl of steel and cloth, and walked briskly towards them. The unbrellas fluttered about him. “He’s not used to dealing with children. He was trying to explain that she was in danger, and she misunderstood.”
“That’s not true!” Deeba said, backing away, clutching the book like a shield. Everyone on the bridge was staring at her.
“It’s a lie,” Hemi shouted.
“It’s not her fault,” Brokkenbroll said. “Unstible feels terrible about what happened. I had to come quickly to explain, because she’s still in danger. The fact is, she has been tricked. By him.” The Unbrellissimo pointed at Hemi.
There were expostulations all over the bridge.
“Oh what?” gasped Hemi. “Here we go.” He backed away.
“I’m not sure about this,” the book said, in Deeba’s arms. “Something funny’s going on.”
“This is lies,” Deeba said. “He’s lying.” But Deeba could see the Propheseers listening to the man they knew, blaming the ghost they had never trusted, for misleading her, the girl who was not the Shwazzy.
“Surely this can’t be right…” said Jones, but he was drowned out.
“That ghost has been filling her head with nonsense, trying to drive a wedge between us, trying to stir up trouble, at a very delicate time in the war. The Smog’s redoubled its attacks, and we really have to pull together. And he’s misleading our honored guest in this disgraceful way, for his own nefarious purposes.”
Brokkenbroll came threateningly on, his unbrellas bounding towards Deeba and Hemi on their points. The Propheseers looked accusingly at Hemi.
“…disgraceful…” Deeba heard.
“…comes causing trouble…”
“…what’s he planning?”
“I told you this was a bad idea,” Hemi said, backing away.
“Are you crazy?” she wailed. “This is stupid! He’s lying! He just knows you’ll blame Hemi and not listen!”
“Give me back the book, Deeba, and come away from that boy,” Lectern said.
“Deeba,” said Brokkenbroll. “We can help you.”
Deeba tried desperately to think of some way she could persuade them to listen, that Hemi wasn’t the problem, that Brokkenbroll was lying. She looked into the Propheseers’ faces and realized she could not.
“We’ll sort out that little troublemaker,” Mortar said.
Deeba turned, still clutching the book, and yelled at Hemi, “Run!”
“Where are you going?” shouted the book. “Stop! Let me go!”
But Deeba did not let it go. Pursued by frantic Propheseers, commanded unbrellas, and the trench-coated Mr. Brokkenbroll reaching out with long fingers like an unbrella’s tines, Deeba and Curdle and Hemi the half-ghost ran.
53
A Hasty Leave-Taking
Deeba and her companions sped along the bridge that crossed from somewhere to somewhere else.
The Unbrellissimo and the Propheseers ran after them, shouting various things ranging from “Please wait!” to “Let’s sort this out,” to “Just you wait, ghost!”
“What are you doing?” the book screeched. “Put me down.”
Deeba did not slow. She didn’t have a plan: she just ran to get off the bridge as fast as she could, before Brokkenbroll reached her.
“Stop them!” she heard Mortar shout. “Before they get off!