Read Online Flora's Fury: How a Girl of Spirit and a Red Dog Confound Their Friends, Astound Their Enemies, and Learn the Impo by Ysabeau S. Wilce - Free Book Online
Authors: Ysabeau S. Wilce
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stood at her right hand, languidly waving a fan made of black angel feathers.
With an awful shock, I realized that this apparition was Udo.
He looked like a freshly disinterred corpse. He wore a tattered green frock coat and a big wide-brimmed leather hat. Matted blond hair hung around his face; red powder made his eye sockets look hollow and livid; his lips were a black gash against his pallid white skin. Red sparkly boots glittered on his feet. For one horrible moment, I thought he was wearing Springheel Jack’s boots, but then I realized, thankfully, that these boots were copies. Thank the Goddess, Udo was not that dumb.
The Zu-Zu herself wore a sangyn uniform with bat-wing sleeves and a crimson red wig, the uniform of the Alacrán Regiment. Black scars were painted on her cheeks. As I realized she was dressed as Tiny Doom—my mother!—a Gramatica fury began to roil in my stomach. How dare she! How dare she dress up as Tiny Doom! She wasn’t fit to kiss Tiny Doom’s spur.
“Happy Birthday, Infantina,” I said through tight teeth.
“So sorry you missed our Pirates’ Parade show,” the Zu-Zu said. “Udo was brilliant. He set the stage on fire.”
“That must have been fun for the fire brigade,” I answered. “I am sorry I missed the show as well, but I had to work. Some of us do work, you know, Your Grace.”
The Zu-Zu’s lip curled. “What are you dressed as, Private Fyrdraaca? A dead muleskinner?”
Before I could answer with a snappy comeback, Udo said. “Now, Your Grace, not until midnight can we'reveal who we are. Until then, we must allow others their guesses.”
The Zu-Zu pouted. “It’s my party and my rule, so why should I not break it?”
Udo answered, “Because then you would lose the fun of the game, Zu.”
“Well, then, let’s guess,” the Zu-Zu said. “I look at that nasty buckskin jacket, all ragged and stained, and say dead muleskinner. Am I right?”
“No,” I answered through even tighter teeth.
“That awful plaid kilt and scruffy boots,” said a Boy Toy wrapped in a bedraggled red satin suit embroidered with dragons, the musician Nicky O, I supposed. “Must be Mag Hagbun, Queen of the Ear Chewers.”
The other Toys roared at the guess. Then they all had to have a crack, trying to outdo one another in cleverness. Of course their guesses were highly uncomplimentary and—to themselves, at least—hilarious. I stood there, trying to act nonchalant, while the Gramatica boiled in me like an inferno. I bit my lip until I felt the skin give way.
“What about you, Sieur Wraathmyr?” the Zu-Zu said, when they had all had a turn, even Udo (who had guessed I was a vampire, even though I knew full well he knew exactly who I was). The Boy Toys parted and there stood Sieur Wer-bear at the back of the pack, smoking a little ivory pipe and looking bored.
He barely glanced at me. “Nini Mo, the Coyote Queen, of course.”
“I think he’s right,” Udo said, the coward. “I now recognize the outfit.”
The Zu-Zu looked disappointed. Then she smiled and said maliciously, “You have guessed right, Sieur Wraathmyr. Claim your prize!”
The wer-bear looked blank. “I cry your pardon, madama, but I do not know your customs.”
“A kiss,” one of the Boy Toys said. “Zu has proclaimed that a correct guess gets a kiss. Sometimes it is better to be wrong, eh?”
The Toys looked at me and giggled, Udo among them, and for a tiny second, I was tempted to open my mouth and let the Gramatica Curse fulminating in my mouth fly—let’s see how hard they’d be laughing then, writhing on the ground with their livers turned to mush. But as sweet as the short term would be, the long term of being caught with magick would be rather sour. So, although my teeth were starting to ache, I kept my mouth shut.
Sieur Wraathmyr looked at me as though he’d rather kiss a scorpion. I curved my tingly lips into what I hoped was a scornful
Try to impress me, puggie
, smile.
“Kiss her!”
With an awful shock, I realized that this apparition was Udo.
He looked like a freshly disinterred corpse. He wore a tattered green frock coat and a big wide-brimmed leather hat. Matted blond hair hung around his face; red powder made his eye sockets look hollow and livid; his lips were a black gash against his pallid white skin. Red sparkly boots glittered on his feet. For one horrible moment, I thought he was wearing Springheel Jack’s boots, but then I realized, thankfully, that these boots were copies. Thank the Goddess, Udo was not that dumb.
The Zu-Zu herself wore a sangyn uniform with bat-wing sleeves and a crimson red wig, the uniform of the Alacrán Regiment. Black scars were painted on her cheeks. As I realized she was dressed as Tiny Doom—my mother!—a Gramatica fury began to roil in my stomach. How dare she! How dare she dress up as Tiny Doom! She wasn’t fit to kiss Tiny Doom’s spur.
“Happy Birthday, Infantina,” I said through tight teeth.
“So sorry you missed our Pirates’ Parade show,” the Zu-Zu said. “Udo was brilliant. He set the stage on fire.”
“That must have been fun for the fire brigade,” I answered. “I am sorry I missed the show as well, but I had to work. Some of us do work, you know, Your Grace.”
The Zu-Zu’s lip curled. “What are you dressed as, Private Fyrdraaca? A dead muleskinner?”
Before I could answer with a snappy comeback, Udo said. “Now, Your Grace, not until midnight can we'reveal who we are. Until then, we must allow others their guesses.”
The Zu-Zu pouted. “It’s my party and my rule, so why should I not break it?”
Udo answered, “Because then you would lose the fun of the game, Zu.”
“Well, then, let’s guess,” the Zu-Zu said. “I look at that nasty buckskin jacket, all ragged and stained, and say dead muleskinner. Am I right?”
“No,” I answered through even tighter teeth.
“That awful plaid kilt and scruffy boots,” said a Boy Toy wrapped in a bedraggled red satin suit embroidered with dragons, the musician Nicky O, I supposed. “Must be Mag Hagbun, Queen of the Ear Chewers.”
The other Toys roared at the guess. Then they all had to have a crack, trying to outdo one another in cleverness. Of course their guesses were highly uncomplimentary and—to themselves, at least—hilarious. I stood there, trying to act nonchalant, while the Gramatica boiled in me like an inferno. I bit my lip until I felt the skin give way.
“What about you, Sieur Wraathmyr?” the Zu-Zu said, when they had all had a turn, even Udo (who had guessed I was a vampire, even though I knew full well he knew exactly who I was). The Boy Toys parted and there stood Sieur Wer-bear at the back of the pack, smoking a little ivory pipe and looking bored.
He barely glanced at me. “Nini Mo, the Coyote Queen, of course.”
“I think he’s right,” Udo said, the coward. “I now recognize the outfit.”
The Zu-Zu looked disappointed. Then she smiled and said maliciously, “You have guessed right, Sieur Wraathmyr. Claim your prize!”
The wer-bear looked blank. “I cry your pardon, madama, but I do not know your customs.”
“A kiss,” one of the Boy Toys said. “Zu has proclaimed that a correct guess gets a kiss. Sometimes it is better to be wrong, eh?”
The Toys looked at me and giggled, Udo among them, and for a tiny second, I was tempted to open my mouth and let the Gramatica Curse fulminating in my mouth fly—let’s see how hard they’d be laughing then, writhing on the ground with their livers turned to mush. But as sweet as the short term would be, the long term of being caught with magick would be rather sour. So, although my teeth were starting to ache, I kept my mouth shut.
Sieur Wraathmyr looked at me as though he’d rather kiss a scorpion. I curved my tingly lips into what I hoped was a scornful
Try to impress me, puggie
, smile.
“Kiss her!”
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