Happenstance Found (Books of Umber #1) (8 page)

CHAPTER
9

“Welcome home, Lord Umber,” said a
tall woman with short white hair. Her silver gown brushed the floor. She stood on the other side of the black door, alone in a lofty room. Her voice was raised because there was another sound inside, thunderous and constant.

“Always good to return, Tru.” Umber waved the rest of them inside.

Hap stepped into the room to find another stunning scene. The walls of the room were chiseled out of solid stone, hollowed completely except for two pillars that were carved to look like a great pair of legs, with boots at the bottom and the knees blending into the stone ceiling above.

A staircase zigged and zagged up the opposite wall to the upper levels of the Aerie. To his right, Hap saw the source of the thunderous sound: A waterfall emerged from a cavity above and dropped into a dark channel at their feet. The rushing water turned a paddle wheel, which was connected to a complex contraption: gears, ropes, and wooden platforms that could rise, disappear through a hole in the ceiling, and return again, completing an oval journey. For the moment, however, only the paddle wheel was moving.

Umber had paused, giving Hap a moment to take in his surroundings. “Lady Truden, this is Happenstance. I’ll explain him later. For now, I’m sure young Hap could use a soft bed and a few hours’ sleep. Am I right in that, Hap?”

Hap bit his bottom lip. “I … I still don’t feel tired.” He didn’t look up at Lady Truden, because he was sure she was staring at his eyes.

“There’s something strange about this boy, Tru,” said Oates. “Sorry,” he added quickly toward Umber, who’d shot another lethal glare in his direction.

“It’s fine if you’re not tired, Hap,” Umber said. “In fact, it’s wonderful. You can get to know the place right away. Tru, Hap will need a room of his own. Something with a view of the city would be nice.”

“Of course, Lord Umber,” Lady Truden said. “Shall we use the stairs or the lift?”

“Oh, the lift is much more fun,” Umber said.

“I hate the lift,” muttered Oates. He plodded toward the stairs, carrying the boxes that Umber had been given, with the rat in its cage on top of the stack.

Lady Truden led the rest over the deck that surrounded the paddle wheel. She pulled a wooden lever, and Hap heard a ratcheting sound as cogs and wheels meshed and the ropes turned. There was room for two or three on each wooden platform. Sophie and Balfour stepped onto one and were lifted toward the higher levels of the Aerie.

Umber took Hap’s elbow as the next platform arrived. “Carefully now, Hap … here we go.” He stepped on, taking Hap with him, and Lady Truden joined them.

“Did you find what you sought?” she said quietly to Umber.

“Um … hard to say,” Umber replied. Hap stood between them, so the conversation took place over his head. He heard every word, but understood none of it.

“And how did you feel? Was there any …” Lady Truden had dropped her voice even lower, and it faded to nothing.

“None of that, all was well,” Umber said, waving his hand. “And how is everything here? How is our guest?”

“There is no change.”

“Still, eh? Don’t know what to do about that.” Umber tapped Hap on the shoulder. “The grand hall is up ahead. Let’s get off here.” They passed through the opening in the ceiling, and Hap saw another handsome room, much larger than the one below. As the platform reached the level of the floor, they stepped off. Overhead, Hap saw Balfour and Sophie still rising toward a third story.

The grand hall had a wooden table in the middle, surrounded by chairs. Shelves and bureaus were cluttered with fascinating objects that would take days to explore. Paintings depicted all manner of subjects: portraits of people in odd clothes, fantastical creatures, maps of kingdoms and wild lands, and things that Hap could not decipher at a glance.

Corridors on either side of the hearth plunged deeper into the rock. The smell of bread and other foodstuffs drifted out from one, and Hap glimpsed a kitchen beyond swinging doors. Another archway framed a staircase, and Oates climbed into view, carrying the boxes.

“Oh yes, the rat!” Umber said. He took the cage from the top of the stack and, to Hap’s surprise, unlatched the lid and turned it sideways. The rat spilled onto the ground, twitched its nose, and scurried under the nearest cabinet.

“Oh, dear,” Umber called out, in a voice too loud to be intended for anyone in the room. “Did you see that? A rat’s gotten loose in the grand hall!”

Hap looked at the others. None of them seemed to find this behavior odd. He added it to the growing list of things for which he hoped to find an explanation. Umber put the empty cage on the table and wiped his hands on his pants. “Tru, will you give Hap a quick tour? I’ll show him the caverns another time—no need to boggle his mind more than we’ve done already. Let him choose any vacant room for his own. By the way, Hap will join me for that party tonight. I suppose we should stop at the market to get him some decent clothes. But first I need to pop into my tower, and I shouldn’t be disturbed. Shall we meet back here in two hours?”

Umber bounded up the stairs, and Lady Truden led Hap around the Aerie. From the grand hall, they ventured past the kitchen, which smelled wonderfully of spice and bread and roasted meat. She took Hap down another corridor, pointing out a privy first, storage rooms, and then a door with a barred window at eye level. “Umber’s archives,” she said. “You might see a strange fellow inside. It’s only Smudge. I’ll leave it up to Lord Umber if you ever meet him. Don’t wander in there alone, if you don’t want to get bitten.”

Bitten?
Hap peered inside the window. The room was bigger than he’d expected. Exactly how deep it plunged into the pillar of rock he couldn’t tell, because the space was cluttered with tall shelves that were stuffed with books and crates. An ink-stained desk stood near the door, where scrolls were unrolled and a half loaf of bread sprouted a garden of mold.

A flicker of motion attracted Hap’s eye, and he jerked his head to one side to avoid the thing flying their way. It struck the bars in the window and dissolved into pieces, splattering him and Lady Tru with something orange, moist, and sticky.

“Ew!” Hap said, wrinkling his nose. He looked at the floor, where the slimy remains of a rotten peach had fallen. A snort and a giggle came from somewhere in the archives, then footsteps padded away into silence.

“He’s thrown worse,” Lady Tru said with her lip curled. She flicked a splotch off her shoulder with the long nail of one finger. “Let’s move on.”

There was more beyond the archives, but Lady Tru said she would leave that for Umber to show. “If he thinks you ought to see it,” she added with a sniff. They returned to the grand hall, stepped back on the lift, and rode to the third story of the Aerie. “The residences,” she said when they arrived.

She opened the doors to unoccupied rooms and told Hap to select one for his own. Each was unique, as if a craftsman from a different corner of the world had created each bed, desk, table, chair, or ornament on the wall. Hap was reluctant to choose; he hardly felt like he’d done anything to deserve such a splendid place to stay.

“You won’t want this one,” Lady Tru said, opening the last door in the corridor. But as soon as Hap peered inside, he knew it was for him.

Somebody else might have claimed it, if not for its tiny dimensions. There was barely room for the bed, desk, and chairs. A pair of tall, oval windows dominated the walls that angled together. Between them was a golden spyglass, on a stand that could swivel in any direction. The space was modest and curious, and yet it simply felt right.

“I think I’d like to stay here,” Hap said.

“Surely it’s too small. We only use this when there are too many guests.”

“It’s not too small for me.” The windows were barred, like the others in the Aerie. But outside the bars was mullioned glass of wonderful clarity. He turned the latches and pushed on the iron frames. Fresh air gusted in as the glass panels swung wide.

Ever since they left the harbor, they had climbed—up the steep causeway and up again through the three stories of the Aerie. And so from the left window he could behold, from a height normally reserved for birds, the glory of Kurahaven, and even the farmlands beyond the city. Through the right window he could watch the Rulian Sea and the busy harbor below.

Hap stuck his head between the bars and looked down. He realized precisely where this room was: inside the carved head he’d seen from the
Swift
. The oval windows were its eyes. He gazed at the harbor. And then a sight struck him like an arrow between the eyes. He staggered and gripped the bars.

“Young man—what’s the matter with you?” asked Lady Truden.

“The ship,” Hap said between gasps.

The ship that had pursued Boroon all those miles was anchored in the middle of the harbor. He was sure of it—and surer than ever that the creature named Occo had indeed picked up his scent, as the note that he wasn’t supposed to read had warned.

CHAPTER
10

Hap bounded up the stairs, heading
for the roof of the Aerie, where he might find Umber. Lady Truden called after him: “Young man! You’re not to be running off by yourself!”

Hap waited for her to catch up. His heart thumped hard and fast against his chest, as if hammering out of its cage. “I have to tell Lord Umber about the ship!” Back in the little room he’d trained the spyglass on the craft. Every detail matched his memory: pale wood and a curving prow carved like a serpent’s head. The only difference was that the tall figure no longer stood on the deck. As far as he could see there was nobody on the ship at all.

The landing opened onto a garden terrace that was lush with a staggering diversity of shrubs, trees, and flowers; even in his frantic state, Hap was struck by its beauty. But he would have to appreciate it later—Umber needed to know about the ominous ship
now
. And Umber was certainly inside the structure at the corner, a tower erected on the flat top of the natural stone. The only entry was a barred door. “That is Lord Umber’s study and his quarters,” Lady Truden said, huffing. “Nobody is allowed there without his permission. And he told me quite plainly he wanted time to himself.”

“You don’t understand,” Hap said, with his voice rising to a shout. “That ship was following us. And now it’s
here
. Lord Umber has to know!” He saw a window at least ten feet overhead, and called out: “Lord Umber!
Lord
Umber
!”

“Master Happenstance, I must ask you to—”

Hap didn’t mean for the next thing to happen. In his frantic state, he jumped. He only wanted to be heard more clearly through the window, but he’d forgotten how high his legs could propel him. The curved blocks of stone flew past, and his chin rose past the windowsill. He heard Lady Truden gasp. Before he dropped earthward again, in that instant between rise and fall, he glimpsed something he wasn’t meant to see.

Umber sat at a desk inside. He’d turned halfway around, probably wondering about the shouting, and so he saw Hap’s face appear. Umber raised his hand, palm out, and leaned sideways to hide whatever was on the desk. Hap saw the corner of something smooth, bright, and silver. From behind Umber’s shoulder came an alien glow with a cold, blue quality that Hap had never seen before.

A terrible expression transformed Umber’s face. His eyes widened at first, and his jaw fell, but then fury ignited in his eyes and his lips pulled back in a snarl. “Hap—
never
!” came his shout, even before Hap’s feet touched the ground again.

Lady Truden’s fingers dug into Hap’s shoulder like an eagle’s talons.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Hap cried.

“Lady Truden!” shouted Umber. He was at the window now, with his fists around the bars.

Lady Truden’s teeth were clenched, and her ashen face trembled. “My apologies, Lord Umber, the boy ran ahead, and I had no idea he could leap so high.”

Umber rubbed his face up and down and took an enormous breath, holding it before exhaling. When he lowered his hands, his face had returned to a more normal state. It wasn’t the happy countenance that Hap had gotten used to, but at least Umber didn’t look ready to commit an act of violence anymore.

“I’ll be right down,” Umber said. He reached out and closed the window’s shutters.

“That was unforgivable, young man,” Lady Truden said, tightening her grip. “Above all things, Lord Umber’s privacy must be respected. No one who breaks that rule is allowed to stay.”

A lump swelled in the middle of Hap’s throat, making it hard to breathe. His eyes felt warm, and moisture blurred his vision.
Where will I go now?
he wondered. He knew no family, no friends; only the people he’d met since he awoke underground.

The door to Umber’s tower opened, and Umber stepped out. His face was red, and his mouth was a thin, straight line. “Tru, why don’t you head downstairs? I’d like to talk to the boy.”

Lady Truden released Hap’s shoulder and clasped her hands in front of her waist. “Shall I pack his things?”

“Hap doesn’t
have
any things. And he isn’t going anywhere. We can hardly banish him for breaking rules that were never explained. Don’t you agree?”

Lady Truden’s shoulders twitched. “Of course, Lord Umber. I will be in the grand hall if you need me.”

Umber nodded. He watched her descend the steps. Then he turned to Hap just as Hap dabbed the corner of his eye, smearing a tear before it trickled down.

The corner of Umber’s mouth turned up. “Don’t worry, Hap. You won’t be evicted.” The half smile vanished. “But you have to tell me something. What did you see, when you were at the window? I want to know exactly what you saw.”

Hap’s hands shook, so he stuffed them in his pockets. “N-nothing, really. I saw you, at a desk. And behind you … there was a glow. I saw the corner of something … just a corner. It looked like silver. Shiny silver.”

“That’s all you saw? Are you certain?”

Hap nodded. Umber scratched his chin and took another deep breath. “I have a few …
magical
objects, Hap. Some I keep to myself, that’s all. But nothing like that will happen again, will it?”

Hap swept his head vigorously from side to side. “No. Not ever.”

Umber rubbed his hands together, and the sparkle returned to his eyes. “Well, as I recall, you were shouting for me. What was that all about?”

Hap’s eyes widened. For a moment, he’d forgotten. “The ship that followed us—it’s here!”

Umber hurried to the terrace wall and squinted at the distant vessel. There were more ships in the harbor than the docks could accommodate, and many were anchored offshore. The ship with the serpent prow was moored farther out than the rest.

“Could be the same vessel,” Umber said. He gnawed his bottom lip for a moment. “I’ll send word ahead, and my men can investigate. You and I will head to the market soon, and then we’ll stop at the docks to learn what we can.”

The market was colorful, noisy, and crowded with jostling bodies. Musicians, jugglers, and acrobats performed, and shoppers haggled over food, furniture, clothes, jewelry, perfumes, and other wares. Hap would have been enthralled if he weren’t so busy watching for his stalker. Was Occo closing in even now, sniffing the air for his green-eyed prey? He was glad Oates was with them, leading the way through the crowd.

Perhaps sensing Hap’s nervous state, Umber pointed out the Kurahaven Guard: soldiers of the king who patrolled the streets and the top of the harbor wall. They were easy to spot with their feathered hats, sleeveless purple surcoats and capes, and the sabers at their hips. “See the four symbols on the royal coat of arms?” Umber asked, pointing at the shield-shaped emblem on their chests. “The crown, the sun, the mountains, and a shell for the sea. Those are the king’s guard, sworn to protect the people. But if you see silver or green capes, those are the private guards of the princes—Argent the eldest, and Loden the youngest.”

Hap thought that a distasteful expression had flickered on Umber’s face when he spoke that last name. Then he remembered something else he’d been told. “Aren’t there three princes? Doesn’t the middle prince have his own guard?”

Umber laughed. “Galbus? Oh no, his interests lie elsewhere. You’ll see when we go to the palace. It’s his birthday celebration tonight, you know.”

Wherever they walked, Umber drew attention. He had his hand shaken so often and so vigorously that Hap thought it might snap off. Women smiled and children waved. Nearly as often, Hap’s eyes captured less flattering attention. The adults nudged and whispered while children pointed and stared. Hap took to walking about with his lids squeezed nearly shut, peering through the narrowest of slits.

“Finally,” Umber said as they arrived at a green- and white-striped tent. “The clothier. Do you know what a clothier is, Hap?”

Hap thought about it. It was like pumping the handle of a well; the answer gushed out a heartbeat later. “Someone who makes or sells garments.”

Umber gave Hap the usual curious, delighted stare. “That might have been an obvious one. But still, for a boy with no memory, you have an astounding vocabulary, Hap.”

Before Hap could think of a reply, the flap of canvas that served as the door flew open and a plump, well-dressed man burst out of the tent. A gap-toothed grin erupted between the fellow’s curling mustache and sculpted beard. All the hair on his face was shiny with wax and never moved, even when he turned his head from side to side.

“Lord Umber, my valued friend and customer!” the fellow cried.

“Poncius! May we enter?”

“Of course, of course!” Poncius bellowed, holding back the canvas door. Umber and Hap went in while Oates stood at the entrance with his burly arms crossed, facing the crowd.

“Let me get directly to the point, Poncius,” Umber said. “This boy Happenstance has only the clothes on his back.”

Poncius wrinkled his nose at the sight of Hap’s bedraggled tunic. “An insufferable tragedy.”

“Hap will meet the royals this evening and must be suitably dressed,” Umber said.

“Unconditionally!” the clothier exclaimed. His eyebrows contorted as he inspected Hap from head to toe.

“A full wardrobe from the shoes up.”

“Wonderful,” Poncius said, tapping his fingertips together.

“He should also have a hat. One he can pull down to shade his eyes when he likes. Perhaps you’ve noticed his striking eyes.”

“Not until you just mentioned them,” Poncius said, stealing perhaps his seventh glance at Hap’s eyes. “But a hat he shall have.”

Hap felt his heart warm. He would like very much to be able to tug the brim of a hat over his brow.

Hap stood on a box in front of a tall mirror as Poncius buttoned him into yet another silk shirt. His old tunic, trousers, and undergarments were heaped on the floor. The clothier had dropped them there, unwilling to touch them for a second more than necessary.

“Look at that mirror, Hap,” Poncius said. “Have you ever seen a glass like that? What a reflection! It was a gift from Lord Umber. Another one of his miracles.”

“A minor innovation,” Umber said, waving his hand. He stood by a rack of clothes, pawing through them.

“Minor, my eye!” Poncius cried. “The wonders never cease with your master, Hap!”

“I’m nobody’s master,” Umber said.

Poncius prattled on. “The master of progress, that’s what you are. Lord Umber brings us music, plays, medicine. He tells us how to properly design our buildings and ships. We are a nation transformed, in a matter of years. He even creates cuisine! That wonderful dish, Lord Umber, the one that’s round and flat, with the toppings. What do you call that? Pete-something?”

“Pizza,” Umber replied absently, examining a shirt he’d pulled from the rack.

“Pete-suh! A glorious concoction.” Poncius yanked on the hem of Hap’s shirt, smoothing the material. “Look at you now, Hap! Quite an improvement over that ancient, back-country tunic.”

Umber’s head snapped toward them. “Back-country? Of course, I should have thought to ask! Poncius, what do those old clothes tell you about the wearer? You of all people would know.”

The clothier’s lip curled as he lifted the tunic to inspect it. “Well. No offense, young man, but these belong to a country lad of modest means. Made of a coarse and cheap grade of wool, when linen would certainly be more comfortable.” He thought for another moment. “It’s quite out of style. Ancient is an exaggeration, but look at those boots: square-toed. Ugh! And I haven’t seen toggles like that for years. Hand-me-downs, I suppose. Yet they’re not so worn, are they?”

Umber stepped closer, staring with his head tilted to one side. This was a customary gesture of his, Hap realized, whenever Umber’s attention was keenly focused. “Old, you say. But could you guess where they came from?” Umber asked. “What land?”

Poncius brought the fabric to his face for a closer look. “The red dye doesn’t tell me much—probably from madder root, and that’s common everywhere. Still, from the cut and the stitching, I’d say these are not from so far away. Not Kurahaven, certainly, but maybe the hinterlands of Celador.”

Poncius would have continued, but the tent brightened as someone pushed the door aside and entered.

“Hello, Sandar,” Umber said. Captain Sandar bowed to Umber and nodded to Hap, who raised a hand in greeting.

“Pardon the intrusion, Lord Umber,” Sandar said. “I have news about that ship, and I heard you’d come this way.”

“Tell me,” Umber said, clasping his hands behind his back.

Sandar cleared his throat as if his mouth had gone dry. “The ship is deserted. I had a pair of my crew row out and hail her. Nobody answered. The boys drew closer, meaning to board, but … a strange thing happened.”

Hap felt like he couldn’t breathe. Umber’s head listed even farther to the side. “Yes?”

“They … got spooked. Something large bumped them from below and nearly tipped them over. Nothing happened after that; it was like a warning. But they rowed back as fast as they could.”