John Wright - Orphans of Chaos

Things began to go wrong at that point.

Boggin and some of the others wanted to continue the meeting. The Lady Cyprian listened to the school business with growing absentmindedness, toying with her mirror, chatting with her handmaidens, giggling while other people were talking.

Mr. ap Cymru made a motion to put a topic on the agenda: Miss Daw (who was the physics teacher as well as being the music teacher) wanted funds to renovate the lab. “It is her opinion that a time will come when the hostages will occupy positions of strength and sovereignty if ever they are returned to their own people. She says…” (and now he read from a note) “ ‘Whether these Orphans of Chaos will regard us with hatred and contempt, or with respect and esteem relies entirely on how well we raise and educate them. A proper schooling in grammar and gymnastic being the foundation for the growth of virtue and character in the young, and knowledge of music, astronomy, and natural philosophy having a moderating effect on the appetitive passions of youth, it is the considered opinion of the servants of the Hippocrene Springs that proper equipment for a physics lab will allow such instruction to take place…’ Ah. And she goes on in like vein.”

The Satyr, Pherespondus, said, “She has been playing the role of a teacher for so long, now she thinks she is one!”

Mr. Sprat mentioned briefly another item he wanted put on the agenda: the property tax owed, the possibility of selling certain school property to raise funds, or using enchantment to hypnotize the Talbot family into paying.

Apparently some of the people and creatures sitting on the Lady Cyprian’s side of the table actually were Governors of the school. The metal men, the women in Greek togas, and the man with the metal eye, Brontes, were clearly her servants and hers alone. The headless man was a guest, but he spoke about donations from someone he called “the Lord of Wealth.” He was a Visitor, then, since he was here to inspect how things were going; and he apparently had some control of school funds.

The man from Atlantis, Mestor, said he wanted to discuss the issue of the slip rental from the local marina, for the school’s boats, and difficulty with the new provisions of Crown regulation; this led me to believe he was clearly a Governor of the school.

One of the foxes—the white one—asked about discussing the question of easements through the wood to the south of the school, and saying there had been “impositions” and “slips” between the human and the “Arcadian” version of reality. I had been assuming the two foxes were in the same group, but the second one, the brown one, made a reference to his status as an emissary between the Lord of Smiths and the Nemeian Lion.

I could not tell which of the others were officers of the school, or not. My overall impression was that relations between these groups or factions or whoever they represented were even more complex than what had seemed at first.

As they were voting on the order of the agenda for the discussion, the Lady Cyprian stood and expressed the desire to have the dance, now. “I’ve come all this way,” she said. “And dances are so romantic!”

Only Boggin had the nerve to speak back to her. “My Lady, how can we hold a dance? Nothing has been prepared. The Boundary Stone Table occupies the Hall; there is no music; and Milord Mavors has marred the floor.”

She stood up, with an expression filled with nothing but kindness. “I have expressed my wish. It is said I am capricious; nothing could be further from the truth; although, alas, the nature of my domain renders it impossible for me to tell those who will enjoy my favor or disfavor what Fate has in keeping for them. It is not for my own pleasure that I speak.”

I knew what she meant. I saw it immediately. She was the goddess of love. Someone’s True Love was in this room, but he would not meet her, or realize that she was the one and only meant for him, unless the formal atmosphere of the meeting gave way to the more relaxed festivities of something like a dance.

Nor could she, Cyprian, merely point her fingers at the two people involved and say, “You are matched with her!” Nothing could be less romantic than that. It would be worse than having your mother pick your dates for you.

The two nymphs and the three Graces were thinking the same thing I was. They were looking at the men around the table speculatively, wondering whom the Lady had in mind. I could see the girl with the bow, Euphrosyne, looked especially doubtful. I saw her glance at the headless man, the man made out of wood, and the Satyr.

Of the men, it was the two in business suits who seemed to catch on the quickest to what was being implied.

The one with the cell phone said, “I move a temporary adjournment, Mr. Chairman. We can resume once a little bit of festive… ah… festivity has cleared the air of lingering doubts.”

The Atlantian, Mestor, was looking speculatively at the Graces in the flowing togas, the nymphs in their nudity. He spoke up, “I second the motion.”

Without waiting for a vote or any sign of consent, the other man in a business suit, the one who had been typing on his laptop computer, stood and said, “I can clear the Boundary Stone Table out of the way. I cannot manifest my true shape in this paradigm, but I am sure the table will allow my powers to work, here.”

He opened his coat and a billow of opaque mist flowed out from his chest. A stream of smoke arched across the table. Other little puffs of smoke separated from the main mass and moved to positions at various points around the circumference.

I nudged Quentin, whispering, “Look at this.”

Hands came out of the cloud: first ten, then a score, then more. The many arms were all dressed as the man’s original pair, with a foot of pressed blue pinstripe coat sleeve showing, and an inch of white cuff, gold cufflinks and all. Most of the left hands wore rings, but not all. Many of the right hands wore expensive gold watches of various makes and models.

The hands reached down and grabbed the table at half a hundred points around the circumference. People and creatures rose with alarm from their seats and backed away as the hands tensed. The man in the suit braced his feet and grunted.

The giant table, which had taken workmen with pulleys and dollies hours to haul into place, was picked up by the sixty or seventy disembodied hands, lifted lightly into the air, and set on its side against one wall.

Quentin whispered, “He is sending the animal humors and motive spirits out from his arms and forming eidolons in midair to impersonate his hands, which he moves by virtue of those humors.”

I whispered back, “We are seeing a polydimensional effect. The real creature is four-dimensional; he is merely rotating more of his body into this time-space.”

The wooden man, meanwhile, stalked over to where the floorboards had been pierced by the javelin of the Soldier, stooped and ran his knotty twiggy fingers across the whole. When he rose, the splinters were mended back together, the floorboards were solid.

The Lady Cyprian said, “Music! Where is the Siren who played so lovingly when we first arrived? Where is Thelxiepia?”

Ap Cymru bowed toward her. “With your permission, Madame, I shall fetch her.”

The Lady turned to the headless man (who had tucked his head carefully under one arm when the table was yanked away), saying, “And will you favor us also with a song, master of all bards, sage of mysteries? I see you brought your instrument; surely, surely fate has treated you cruelly, but it was not I who treated you cruelly. You have no reason to scorn my plea.”