Chapter 13
Prism
I stared at Viceroy in disbelief. Well, I mean, how else do you even look at a slender man with monarch butterfly wings, a monocle, and a long, curled mustache he kept twirling.
“This has to be a dream,” I said finally.
“None of this is real.” I squinted my eyes and closed them tight—a trick Rumor had taught me as a young child when I woke in the night with a nightmare.
For some reason, when that happened, I didn’t crawl into Mother and Matri’s bed.
Instead, I’d shuffle across the cold hardwood floors and find my big sister.
Surprisingly, despite her phases of taunting me throughout our childhood, she never teased me, only lifted her quilt and allowed me to crawl in beside her.
“I’m afraid if I go back to sleep, I’ll have the same dream, be back in the same nightmare with no way to escape. ”
“You won’t,” she sleepily assured. “Once you realize you’re having a bad dream, just squint your eyes real tight, and you’ll wake up.
“Do you promise?” I’d ask, my eyelids heavy but feeling comforted by her confidence.
“I promise, and if I’m wrong, I’ll break into your dream with a sword and fight all the monsters. Okay?”
It was always enough to get me back to sleep.
Somehow, she was right every time. The bad dream wouldn’t come back.
Telling me a lie to go to sleep, or witch magic, or maybe…
just sisterly love. It was an unwelcome memory after what she’d done to me.
Regardless, I squinted my eyes shut and leaned against…
a giant strawberry… while the velvet soft fur of the fallope brushed my ankles.
“Is she quite alright?” Viceroy asked.
Squeak, the fallope replied.
I peeled one eye open. The tulips bobbed above us and the tart and tangy aroma of berries mixed with sunshine and pollen. Viceroy’s wings caught the sun as they idly opened and closed. I let out a sigh. “You’re still here.”
“Yes, that’s correct. Come, I believe you should sit down. The journey has you exhausted, I’m sure.” Viceroy looped his arm in mine like we were old friends and not strangers and tugged me through the thick tulip stalks.
“You live here?” I asked, attempting to ignore the rumbling of bee wings overhead.
“I’m not just visiting on vacation, if that’s what you’re asking.” Viceroy attempted to urge me into a skip, but I refused, pulling back on my arm. “Oh, you’re no fun. Are you always so serious?”
“I don’t understand where I am or why I’m here—much less why you seem to know who I am and are saying I’ve come back.”
“You’re Prism Malefic, Guardian of the Underworld, of course. This is part of it. Isn’t it grand?”
“You say that as if it’s so simple and not the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. I’ve lived in Willowspire my entire life. I’m only here to find… to find someone, someone’s soul. Can you help me with that? Can you tell me where I need to go?”
Viceroy halted his attempt at skipping and spun on his heel. With a furrowed brow, he fiddled with his monocle and looked at me closely. “This is a conversation better had over cake. Don’t you agree?”
I exhaled. This butterfly man was clearly not entirely sane… but I had no other leads but him. Him and the bouncing fallope at our feet. “Okay, sure.” I forced a small smile.
“Lovely!” Viceroy clapped his hands together in delight. “Come, come! Into the burrow we go—where we stop, nobody knows!”
“Oh, dear,” I sighed, watching as the butterfly man lifted a large leaf above his head. Beneath the leaf was the familiar, multicolored brick path again, only this time it led down a long hill. “You Underworld folk sure do love your hidden passageways, huh?”
Viceroy let out a giggle. “It’s more fun this way. Come on, smile. This is fun!”
Unease tensed my shoulders, but I told myself that I was one step closer.
One step closer to Vore, one step closer to finding his soul.
That’s all that mattered. “Yes, great fun,” I replied without conviction as I walked under the leaf.
The fallope and butterfly man skipped ahead, leading me down, down, down a spiral pathway.
When they stopped, and the colored brick road ended, the scene before me wasn’t at all what I’d expected.
Mice wearing glasses and little coats scurried about.
A badger bigger than I was, pulled a cart of cheese behind him.
A family of squirrels were stopped at a booth, their paws assessing a spool of ribbon.
The hustle and bustle of critters with carts, shops, and business to attend to was staggering and disorienting.
Yes, this definitely felt like a dream. I considered squinting my eyes again when Viceroy looped his arm in mine and pulled me forward.
“Market day, oh, market day,” Viceroy sang. “We love thee, oh, market day!”
“Would you pipe down?” an enormous praying mantis sitting at a cafe table, reading a book, snapped. “I swear to goddess, I can’t get a moment’s peace in this realm.”
I gripped Viceroy’s arm and leaned in to whisper. “That—that’s a huge bug. There are huge bugs… and woodland animals everywhere.”
“Astute observation,” the butterfly man replied, holding open a door. The sign above it read Bloom’s Breads and Teas. The aroma of sugary goods forced me to pry my wary gaze from the tall mantis and into the shop. Viceroy leaned on the counter. “How’s it going, Bloom? Did you miss me?”
And to my disorienting surprise, the man behind the counter was similar to Viceroy. Tall, slender, with dark hair and striking blue butterfly wings. Bloom rolled his eyes. “You only want me when you’re hungry. Who’s your friend? Darling, you’re missing your wings,” he said with a frown.
Viceroy leaned in and said on a loud whisper. “This is Prism Malefic.”
“Oh, fly off, Vice.” Bloom pulled two slices of cream-colored cake from the bakery case. “You don’t have to lie. You know I’ll give you whatever sweets you want as long as… well… you come around for other types of sweets now and again.”
“That’s for certain.” Viceroy winked. “But I’m not lying. It’s her, it’s really her. Why you think she’s got no wings? Fuzz found her up on the first quarter earlier today. Poor thing doesn’t know what’s what anymore.”
“I’m standing right here.” I crossed my arms, not appreciating being spoken about as if I weren’t there. I extended my hand. “Hello, I’m Prism.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” The blue-winged butterfly man marveled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Bloom. I manage the store. Here…” His wings fluttered. “Let me put some fresh cream and berries on that cake for you.”
“Suck up,” Viceroy teased.
“You manage the store? Your name is on the front, is it not yours?” I inquired as he fussed over his confections.
There were a million other questions I wanted to ask.
Why were the bugs, animals, and flowers so big?
What were the quarters of the Underworld?
Why was the fallope the correct size but the badgers and squirrels were huge?
Furthermore, who would name such a majestic little snow fallope Fuzz?
I bit my tongue and stuck to the basics, for now.
“Well, I had to sell it a few years back, but the new owners kept the name.” Bloom shrugged.
“I just want to be a baker. I don’t care much for the ins and outs of small business ownership, you know?
” Blinking, he shook his head. “But I’m not complaining,” he said nervously.
“I love it here. It’s great; everything is great. ” He forced a smile.
Viceroy took our plates. “Hey, why didn’t I get berries and cream? Don’t you love me?”
“Not at all,” Bloom quipped as I took my seat at a small, round table.
“That’s not what you said last night,” Viceroy called after the man as he disappeared into the kitchen. “Now we have our cake, we can have a proper chat.”
I opened my mouth to respond, when Bloom returned, shakily setting down two teacups full of steaming, peppermint-scented tea. “I hope this is okay,” he said. “It’s the best we have.”
“It’s fine, Bloom.” Viceroy waved a dismissive hand. “Buzz off, would you?” Taking a forkful of cake, he eyed me through his monocle. “I give him a hard time, but Bloom’s lemon cake is to die for.”
“Lemon cake?” I took a bite and it tasted like…
my mother humming as she clipped bedsheets on the clothesline outside on a hot summer’s day.
It tasted like fresh daffodils in a jar on the table while my moms and my sister and I laughed trying to catch a rogue cricket that snuck into the house and played its tune all night long—keeping us all awake.
I licked the icing from my spoon, just to confirm, and my chest warmed.
The smell of biscuits baking, the seashells Matri carved into the hearth, seven-year-old Rumor’s deep belly laugh…
It tasted like my childhood. All the best of my early years, endowed in flour and sugar and lemon as if it were straight from my mother’s oven.
“How… this is… I don’t… how is this… this is my mother’s lemon cake,” I said with confused assurance.
Viceroy smirked below his twisted mustache. “Is it now? Are you quite sure about that, Prism?”
I didn’t need another bite. “This is with absolute certainty is my mother’s cake.
Is this some sort of magic?” I looked around the shop, noting two human-sized chipmunks in bow ties in deep conversation over a plate of praline cookies.
“Does everyone here taste the sweets of their youth, or something like that? The treats, are they bewitched?”
There was no other explanation for it, because this was without a doubt, my mother’s.
The butterfly man lifted a coy shoulder.
“Viceroy.” I reached forward, gripping his wrists on the table. “Don’t be smart with me. You must tell me at once.”
My accomplice looked at Fuzz, who sat at our feet and squeaked five little squeaks. “Oh, I know, I know. She’s fine. You don’t have to use such foul language, my word.”