Happenstance Found (Books of Umber #1) (10 page)

CHAPTER
12

“How did the Creep follow us, anyway?”
Oates asked as the carriage clattered over the causeway. “You said we lost him at sea when Boroon dove.”

“So I thought,” said Umber. “Perhaps he guessed our destination.”

“Humph,” said Oates. He turned to Hap. “Well. At least you bleed like a normal person.”

Hap sat with his bare foot propped on the bench, pressing a cloth against his heel. The fabric was dark with blood, but the flow had slowed to a trickle. His hands still trembled from the encounter. “Will those guardsmen be all right?” he said to Umber.

“I suppose,” Umber said, shrugging. Hap wished that Umber would show more concern. While Sandar seemed all right, the fellow who’d been kicked by Occo was in a terrible state and had been carried away on a litter. But Umber was preoccupied; he hummed to himself as he pulled his notebook out of a vest pocket and scratched out words.

“How did you know his name, Lord Umber?” asked Hap.

Umber stopped writing and turned his gaze slowly toward Hap.

“That’s right,” said Oates. “You called him Occo. How did you know that?”

“Lucky guess,” Umber said without a hint of humor. He went back to scribbling.

Hap wanted to shout,
It was in that note!
But he just leaned back and sighed.
Won’t I be allowed to know anything?
Then he recalled a promise Umber had made a while ago, that might offer some answers. When the tension of the moment had passed, he spoke again. “Lord Umber, you told me you might be able to help me remember. You said you’d try something when we got to the Aerie.”

Umber smiled and put the notebook away. His moods were like the weather, Hap observed. There might be a momentary darkness, but soon the clouds would pass and the sun would shine again. “That’s right,” Umber said. “I was working on that when you suddenly popped up outside my window. We’ll give it a whirl after the party, if you’re willing. It’s called
hypnosis
. Do you know the word?”

Hypnosis
, Hap repeated to himself. There was nothing familiar about the term. “No, sir,” he said.

“You don’t know
that
word? Interesting—I wonder … Hap, tell me if these mean anything to you:
microwave. Baseball. Thermonuclear
.”

Hap shook his head at each strange word.

“You made those up,” said Oates.

“I did not.” Umber sniffed. “But now I understand the boundaries of your vocabulary, Hap.” Umber interlaced his fingers and cracked his knuckles. “Now, what were we talking about? Oh, yes—hypnosis. That means I will relax your mind and induce an altered state of consciousness. Something like sleep, but not exactly. If I succeed, you might recall what happened before Alzumar. It’s not as scary as it sounds, Hap. You might even enjoy it. Would you like me to try?”

Hap nodded. He was starving for answers. “Yes. I would. But … do I really have to go to the palace tonight? I’d rather stay in the Aerie, if that’s all right.”

Umber patted Hap’s knee. “I know you’ve had a scare. But I want you to join me. Don’t worry, you’ll be well guarded. Besides, a prince’s birthday is a grand event!”

Hap tucked his head between his shoulders. He tried to put his unease into words. “Ever since I … woke up … I’ve rushed from one place to another. I feel as if I don’t belong anywhere. It would be nice to stay in one spot for a while. And besides, didn’t the clothier say I had the clothes of a country boy? Maybe I don’t belong with all the royal folk.”

“Umber just wants to show you off,” Oates said out the window.

“Oates! Another word and it’s the muzzle for you!” snapped Umber. His face reddened with anger. “Hap, you know that Oates only says what he
thinks
is true. That doesn’t mean it
is
true. Or in good taste.”

Oates stuck out his tongue and made an uncouth sound. Umber waved him off.

“You don’t believe that, do you, Hap?” Umber asked. Hap shrugged. Umber leaned close. “Happenstance. Listen to me. I am not bringing you to the palace to display you like some exotic creature that I’ve acquired.”

Hap wiped his cheek with his sleeve. “There will be more strangers, Lord Umber. They’ll stare at me and my eyes. Now more than ever, after what happened in the market.”

“Let them stare!” Umber said, slapping the bench. “Be proud of those eyes! People gaze at me constantly, Hap—particularly the women—because of my unusual good looks. I’ve learned to deal with it.”

Oates turned away and snorted.

“I promise you, Hap, I’m not bringing you to show you off. You believe me, don’t you?”

Hap sniffed and nodded. “But why do I have to go?”

“Trust me, there’s a reason.”

Hap covered his face with his hands. He knew exactly what the reason was. It was part of the note:
Keep him with you always, and bring him on all your journeys. The boy needs to grow and learn; he must adventure, or he will not become what he must.
“But why does the reason have to be a secret?” he asked, trying to draw out the truth.

Umber took in a deep breath and held it for a long time. The carriage passed into the gatehouse and rolled to a stop, and he finally exhaled. “Oates. Out you go.”

“So you can tell him something I’m not supposed to hear,” grumbled Oates. The carriage rocked as he stepped out.

Umber waited until the big fellow stepped away, and then spoke quietly. “Hap. I don’t mean to be unkind, but I simply can’t answer all your questions yet. There are things going on that I don’t understand: events being set into motion and possibilities about to unfold like flowers. My instincts tell me to proceed cautiously. And the note advised me to follow my instincts. So I will keep my secrets, and I won’t apologize for that. When the time is right, I’ll tell what I can. And that’s that. Now, let’s get you changed for the prince’s party. I’m afraid what you’re wearing got roughed up by our adventure with the Creep.”

CHAPTER
13

Hap followed Oates up the stairs,
toward the terrace, where they were to meet Umber. “Mister Oates, I’ve been meaning to thank you for saving me in the market,” Hap said.

“It’s just Oates. And I only did it because Umber told me to keep you safe.”

“Oh,” Hap said quietly. “Well, thank you, anyway.”

Oates saw Hap hang his head, and he grimaced. “I don’t like being this way, you know. Hurting people’s feelings all the time.”

Hap looked up at the big man. “Is there really a curse that forces you to tell the truth?”

“Yes,” Oates grumbled. “Umber has been looking for a cure for years.”

“Who did it to you?”

“I have no idea. I made the wrong person angry, I suppose. Some witch or wizard.”

“But if you don’t want to say the truth, why don’t you just keep quiet?”

Oates rolled his eyes upward and shook his head. “You don’t understand. I can’t help saying it out loud. It just blows out of me, like a sneeze.”

How strange
, Hap thought. “Do you really think Lord Umber can fix it someday?”

“I don’t know,” Oates said. “I don’t want to go on like this forever. But I’m worried about what would happen if he does.”

“Worried? Why?”

Oates groaned and slumped, as if he had dreaded the question. “I don’t think he’ll let me serve him anymore. He’ll send me away.”

Hap’s eyebrows rose. Oates’s strength had saved Umber more than once. He couldn’t imagine why Umber would make him go. “What? Why do you think that?”

Only then did Hap realize that Oates was growing angry. His enormous hands curled up into great fists, and he growled his answer. “I wasn’t a good man before this curse, all right? I was a thief. A bully. A liar. Umber trusts me only because I
have
to tell the truth. If I’m cured, I’ll be the man I was again, and I don’t know if he’ll let me stay.
Does that answer your stupid question
?” He bashed the wall with his bare hand. Bits of stone clattered on the stairs. “What’s the matter with you, boy?” he snarled. “Why do you ask these things when you know I have to answer?”

Hap took one step backward, suddenly aware of how vulnerable Oates was because of the spell. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to pry! But …” He hesitated, then went on, anxious to make amends but careful not to pose another question. “Maybe you’ve learned how to be truthful while you’ve had this curse. You could be a different man, even if you’re cured.”

Oates sniffed, and looked at Hap with reddened eyes. “Do you really believe that?”

Hap was glad he wasn’t the one with the curse, because the truth was that he had no idea. “Yes, Oates, I really do,” he said.

Lying is a funny thing,
Hap thought. Telling a lie made him feel worse. But the trace of a hopeful smile on Oates’s face made him feel better.

*     *     *

Hap stepped onto the terrace behind Oates. He heard the hush of the evening breeze and the cry of gulls skimming the waves. Across the harbor, the falling sun roasted the bellies of the clouds.

Umber was in the garden, sitting on a bench below a tree that grew from an enormous stone planter. With a broad smile, he waved Hap over. Oates stayed back and leaned against the wall. He pulled a tiny flute from his pocket and played a sad, lovely tune with a skill that surprised Hap.

“I hope you don’t mind Oates hanging about,” Umber said. “But I think you should be well guarded until we’re certain Occo is gone.” Umber had an apple in his hand. He cut it into pieces with his knife and popped them into his mouth. “Would you like some fruit, Hap? Take anything you like.”

Hap looked up and his jaw dropped. “How … ?” he said. The tree was of moderate size, perhaps ten feet tall, but far wider. Its branches sagged under the weight of dozens of fruits. But they weren’t just apples; the tree bore all manner of fruits and berries. Some should have been on bushes, and some on vines, and yet they were all together: apples, pears, peaches, plums, oranges, lemons, limes, strawberries, clusters of grapes, and others he did not recognize. An intoxicating odor met his nose because the tree was also bursting with blossoms.

“Something, isn’t it?” Umber said, spitting an apple seed. “It’s my tree of many fruits. A gift from a wizard I know. He’s devoted all his magical craft to botany. Perhaps you’ll meet him someday; he’s on one of the thousand isles out there in the Rulian Sea.”

A fist-size strawberry dangled over Hap’s head. He plucked it and took a bite. The sweet taste was so intense that his eyes closed on their own. “Wonderful,” he said when he’d swallowed.

“Don’t get juice on your shirt. You’ve gone through enough clothes for one day.” Umber leaned back on the bench and took a deep whiff. “I’ve got some other magical plants up here. There’s one that purrs when you touch it, one that grabs flies out of the air with a tongue like a frog’s, and one that crawls from pot to pot when nobody’s looking. This tree is my favorite, though. I sit on this bench many nights just to savor the fruit and watch the stars. It relaxes me when my mind buzzes like a beehive, as it’s prone to do.” Umber tossed what was left of the apple into another planter nearby. The vines of that plant slithered and wrapped around the core. “I could walk you around, but it’s getting dark and we’re off to the palace soon. Tell me, are you tired at all?”

Hap shut his eyes and took a silent inventory of his condition. He was bruised and scraped. The nick on his heel was still tender. His jaw hurt; he suspected he’d been clenching it since the encounter with Occo. But while his muscles could certainly wear down after a while, so far it didn’t seem like his mind needed rest. “No. I’m not tired.”

Umber’s eyes twinkled. “It’s been days now. I think it’s safe to assume that you simply don’t need sleep.”

Hap lowered his head. He couldn’t even imagine how the urge to sleep would feel. “That isn’t normal. Is it?”

“Well … no. It’s extraordinary. I’m jealous, honestly. I like my sleep, but imagine how much more a person could accomplish if he didn’t spend a third of his life in a stupor!” Umber shaded his eyes and looked to the western horizon. “Nearly sunset. Come on, Hap. This is worth a look.”

Hap followed Umber to the edge of the terrace, where Oates had just finished playing the tune he’d begun.

“That was a nice song,” said Hap.

“Umber gave me the music,” said Oates.

“There’s a thought, Hap—tell me, did that tune sound familiar?” asked Umber, tapping his fingertips together.

“No, sir,” said Hap. “What’s it called?”

“It’s a movement from something called the
New World Symphony
. By a most excellent composer named Dvo
 ák. Play some of the other stuff I’ve given you, Oates. And Hap? Let me know if you hear anything you know.”

Hap nodded. Oates shrugged and started a new song.

As Hap listened, he couldn’t help but stare down at the water and look for the Creep’s ship.

“It’s not there, Hap,” Umber said. He had a knack for guessing Hap’s thoughts. “The guardsmen said the Creep got to his ship and took off in a hurry, without bothering to hoist a sail. The sea horse tows him, apparently. They said not even the
Swift
could have caught him. He was badly injured, you know. Perhaps he’s scared off for good or crawled away to die.”

Hap doubted that. But he relaxed a little, and tried to appreciate the beauty spread out below. His eyes were drawn to the ancient castle that Sophie had called Petraportus.

The once majestic form had fallen into ruins on the rocky island near the foot of the Aerie. Hap saw a crude breakwater of jumbled stone that spanned the watery gap between the two. A closer look told him what that formation really was: The nearest tower had toppled into the water, forming an accidental bridge. It looked like one could reach it by a narrow staircase that was carved into the Aerie’s side.

The great dome of the old keep was half collapsed. Hap saw an old man and woman standing at the foot of the broken walls. The wind blew the man’s gray beard over his shoulder as he threw a weighted net into the bay.
The fisherman and his wife,
Hap recalled.
The only ones crazy enough to live in a crumbling castle.

“Lord Umber, what happened to that place?” he asked, pointing.

“Petraportus! Where do I begin?” said Umber. “Two centuries ago, a different city stood by this harbor, as grand as Kurahaven is today. The power of that kingdom grew, and the ambitions of the kings swelled with it. They had been traders, but suddenly they decided their goals could be better met through aggression. Their ships of exploration became ships of war, and they sailed out to conquer lands far and wide and bring fortunes back. Eventually they built Petraportus, the wonder of its age, which seemed to rise right out of the sea. In fact, the sea flowed into the domed keep, through a gated arch so wide that ships could sail
inside
. Imagine the splendor! And around the keep stood four enormous towers, one for each point of the compass. Only the west tower remains.”

A warm breeze kicked up, bringing with it the salted scent of the Rulian Sea. Umber paused to tilt his head back and sniff.

“What happened to Petraportus?” asked Hap.

“Torn to pieces,” Umber replied. “There was an invasion of sea-giants—enormous beings that, legend says, awoke from their slumber in some hidden cavern and marched up from the depths of the sea. They fell upon the city and did what sea-giants do: eat people and steal treasures. Nearly all the buildings where the city now stands were flattened, and most of those who didn’t flee were turned into supper. Except for Brinn the Bold, that is. He sat on the throne of Petraportus in those days. History says he was a stubborn man. He probably should have hopped on his fastest ship and sailed away, or taken refuge in the Aerie. But he thought Petraportus was strong enough to keep him and his court safe. Sadly, that was not the case. Brinn’s army couldn’t hold the monsters off. The sea-giants tore at the walls until the castle began to tumble. The keep caught fire, and Petraportus turned into an inferno. They say Brinn jumped from the west tower, swinging his battle-ax as he fell onto a giant hundreds of feet below.”

“Did he die?” Hap asked.

“Not until he landed!” Umber chuckled. “After the fire went out, the giants plundered the castle’s treasury. What was left of Petraportus has been in a state of slow collapse ever since. See the tower that’s broken off halfway up? That was the south tower, and it fell only five years ago. I’ve been inside a few times, playing the archaeologist. You can hear the stones shifting when the wind blows hard. I don’t go much these days—that old fisherman and his wife prefer to be left alone. But it’s quite exhilarating, being in there.”

Oates pulled the flute from his lips. “It’s quite stupid, being in there. You could get killed.”

Umber rolled his eyes. “Thank you as always for your candor, Oates. Play something else now. Have you learned the latest tune I gave you? ‘Yesterday’?”

Oates frowned as he concentrated. “You last gave me a tune two weeks ago.”

“No, you dolt! The song is called ‘Yesterday’.”

“Right. Another song from wherever it is you came from.”

“Just play the tune, Oates.”

Oates grunted, licked his lips, and began a slow, haunting tune. For a moment, Umber’s eyes lost focus as his attention drifted to some inward place. Then he blinked and returned to the moment. “Where was I? Oh yes. So, the sea-giants lived in the ruins of the old city. Nobody dared come near the place. The Aerie itself was too strong for the giants to break in, but people were still afraid to stay. All of Kurahaven was deserted for a century or so until the invaders were driven out.”

“By who?”

“A sorceress named Turiana. Her powers, and her knowledge of the magical creatures and monsters of the world, were amazing. She had a talisman that allowed her to command the minds of other beings, and she ordered the sea-giants to return to the sea. Just like that, those behemoths waded into the depths and disappeared, and they haven’t been seen since. This was still a few centuries ago. Once the sea-giants were gone, Turiana took the Aerie for her home. After a while, people returned—this bay is irresistible to merchants—and the city rose again on top of the ruins. The old line of regents was gone, but a new king from the south of Celador came to rule. That royal line continues to this day.”