CHAPTER FOURTEEN

In which Emily and Co. must rescue a scoundrel from a sneak.

It was impossible to miss the Regent. About halfway across the bridge was a large section where the shops and houses suddenly stopped, as if they had been swept away into the raging waters by an enormous hand. In their place, built up against the left side of the bridge, stood a huge, sprawling, open-air theater of an incredibly flamboyant design.

Emily stared at it critically as they approached. It was far too overdone for her tastes. She got the impression that whoever had built it had been trying to show how artful he was by filling every available surface with carvings and frescoes. Everywhere she looked, stone faces peered out at her, or cavorting fey danced around trees and stone circles.

The stage was raised from the ground by wooden supports carved in the shape of odd-looking animals. The two closest to her were a lion with the head of an eagle and a monkey with the head of a dog. She couldn’t see the others as the space beneath the floor was cloaked in darkness.

A wooden cage sat on the stage in front of a backdrop that had been painted to resemble a prison cell. Inside the cage sat a fey slightly shorter than Emily. He was slim and looked to be middleaged (as far as Emily could judge such things), and could probably pass as a human if he had wanted to. He wore a floppy hat similar to the one Katerina wore, pulled down to one side at a rakish angle.

A crowd of fey were jostling one another in an attempt to get a seat in the tiers of benches that faced the stage. The fey lucky enough to have their seats already were having a good time, laughing, booing the fey in the cage, eating (and throwing) food.

“Why am I not surprised that someone Corrigan knows is a criminal on trial?” Jack said as they drew level with the theater. “What are we supposed to do now, Snow?”

Emily studied the creature in the cage. He was doing his best to look forlorn and sad, but Emily could see it was all an act. His eyes were shrewd and calculating, weighing everything for its value and use. “I suppose we wait till this is over and try to talk to him. Maybe he can still help us.”

A tall, thin figure swept imperiously onto the stage, his arms raised into the air. The figure wore a green frock coat that trailed along the floorboards and a red top hat that was ludicrously high. At his appearance, the assembled fey burst into enthusiastic applause. The man twirled his hands and bowed.

“Thank you, thank you,” he said. “Munifus the Magnificent has returned.”

The applause grew even louder. Munifus allowed it to continue for some moments more before raising his hands.

“Please, please. You are too kind. I don’t deserve it.” He paused for dramatic effect, then smiled, showing startlingly white teeth. Emily wondered if he had done some magic on them, because they really did appear … strangely bright. It was just possible that they would light up a darkened room.

“Actually, that’s a lie,” continued Munifus. “We all know I do deserve it. Because I really am just that amazing. But now, back to the business at hand. Because as you know, I stand before you here not as one of the greatest actors of all time, but as my alter ego—the greatest lawyer of all time. I put the ‘prose’ into prosecution. I put the ‘dance’ into evidence. I put the ‘ooh’ into proof. For I am the one, the only … Munifus the Magnificent.”

This got another round of cheers from the fey.

“So to conclude the proceedings before us. To cap them off. To tie the final knot. To lower the curtain, so to speak, I shall finish up reading the tally of charges.”

Munifus lifted his hat, revealing a startled-looking rabbit. It blinked as Munifus took a scroll from inside the hat before placing it back on his head.

“Ahem. Now, where were we? Had we done ‘blowing a raspberry at the King and Queen?’”

The crowd responded with an enthusiastic “YES!”

“Ah. What about ‘charming the maids of the visiting Spinster Queen and stealing the crown jewels?’”

Again, a loud “YES!” swept through the crowd.

“What about ‘trying to sell the aforementioned crown jewels back to the Spinster Queen at double their value?’”

Another “YES!”

Munifus rolled the scroll up as he read farther down the list. “Ah, yes, here we are. The final charges leveled against Beezle. ‘Smuggling goods out of Faerie.’” Munifus turned to Beezle and shook his head sadly. “For shame, Beezle. For shame.” He resumed his reading of the list. “‘Supplying fake invisibility potion to the Queen’s secret service.’” Munifus shook his head. “Very embarrassing for them when they tried to sneak into Queen Mab’s castle in Eire. Very embarrassing, indeed. And of course, let us not forget the main charge, the one that convinced me to take up this case in the first place. That of enticing the attentions of my wife! Now, to the good fey gathered before me, what say you? Guilty or not guilty?”

The crowd erupted into a frenzy. “Guilty! Guilty!” The roars swept around the benches. Munifus spread his arms wide and moved in a slow circle, letting the shouts and screams wash over him as if they were personal adulations.

“Good to see they have a fair legal system,” muttered Jack sarcastically.

After a full minute of basking, Munifus finally lowered his hands, bringing the shouting and screaming to a reluctant end. He turned to face Beezle. “And so you hear your judgment, foul creature. The people of fey find you guilty of all—” Munifus paused and turned to the crowd. “Was it all charges?” The crowd shouted their agreement. Munifus smiled and nodded, turning back to Beezle. “All charges. The sentence is death, to be carried out by me at a future date when I can clear enough time in my diary to enjoy … uh, I mean, to properly give my full attention to such a serious and burdensome task. Take him away!”

Munifus swept his hands into the air again. This was the signal for more cheering, and the cage Beezle was locked in started to descend shakily through the floor.

“Now’s our chance,” said Emily. “Come on.”

“What are you planning on doing?” asked Wren nervously.

“I’m gong to sneak under the stage. Maybe we can get close enough to speak to him.”

“And you think that will work, do you?” asked Jack. “You think he’s just going to tell you what you need to know?”

“Hopefully. Unless you have a better idea?” Emily paused and looked expectantly at Jack.

He didn’t say anything, so Emily led the way beneath the benches, stepping around the litter that had been dropped by the fey above them. When they arrived at the edge of the stage, one of the wooden creatures—the lion with the head of an eagle—turned its head and stared at Emily.

“Um … hello,” she said hesitantly.

“Hello,” said the creature.

“Can we come in?”

“Come in where?”

“Under the stage?”

“Why would you want to do that?”

Emily glanced over the creature’s shoulder. In the dim light beneath the theater’s floor she could just make out the cage that imprisoned Beezle. It had lowered through a trapdoor into another, much larger cage. This one had wooden wheels attached to it.

“I … I lost something. It fell through the floorboards. Please? I’ll only be a second.”

“I’m not sure.” The eagle-headed lion turned to the next pillar, which was the monkey with the head of a dog. “What do you think, Walter? Should we let her in?”

The dog’s head turned to look at Emily and the others. “Don’t know. They look a bit shifty to me. Why does she want in?”

“Said she dropped something through the floorboards.”

“Bloomin’ careless, if you ask me.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“What does Barglehun say?”

“Haven’t asked her yet.”

“Well what are you waiting for? Ask her.”

The eagle turned its wooden head so that it was looking into the shadows beneath the stage. “Barglehun?”

“What?” shouted a rough voice.

“Girl here wants to come under the stage. Says she dropped something.”

“She sounds silly. Send her away.”

The eagle-headed lion turned back to Emily. “Sorry. You heard Barglehun. No entry. She says you’re sill—Hey! Where are you going?”

Emily had grown tired of listening to the wooden creatures. They were the ones who were silly. Very silly indeed. She strode past the pillar and headed toward the cage. Jack and Wren hurried after her.

“Are you sure it’s wise to go against their wishes?” asked Wren.

Jack grinned. “What are they going to do, Mr. Wren? Throw splinters at us?”

Emily stopped before the cage. The lights from above filtered down through gaps in the flooring, tracing thin lines across the cobbles of the bridge.

Beezle sat on the floor, his legs stretched out before him and his hat pushed down over his eyes.

“Hello?” Emily called.

Emily tried the door of the second cage, but it was locked with a bronze padlock. The bars themselves were about as thick as her arm. Emily didn’t think they’d be breaking them apart anytime soon.

Jack bent down to inspect the lock, peering inside the mechanism. He straightened up after only a moment. “There’s something in there,” he said. “It stuck its tongue out at me.”

Emily looked inside. Sure enough, a tiny beetle with a curiously human face blocked the keyhole. There was a hole all the way through its body the same shape as a key. Its legs were all stretched out to—Emily assumed—hold the lock mechanism in place.

The beetle stuck its tongue out at her and made a rude noise. “You’re very rude,” Emily said, then straightened up.

“Excuse me,” she said. “Hello? I wonder if you could help us? It’s really rather urgent.”

Beezle didn’t respond for a moment. Then he let out a heavy sigh, uncrossed his arms, and slowly lifted the hat up over his eyes.

“What?”

“Um … we’re friends of Corrigan. He said we were to find you—that you could help us with something.”

“Sorry. Can’t even help myself at the moment. Nothing I can do for you.”

He lowered his hat and made himself comfy once again.

“Please,” said Emily. “It’s urgent. Lives are at stake!”

The hat lifted quickly. “Lives are at stake?” asked Beezle. “Madam, why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

“Then you’ll help?”

“No.” Beezle dropped the hat back in place.

Jack stepped forward. “What if we get you out of here?”

Emily grabbed Jack’s arm. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Getting the information we need. Come on, Snow. You saw that trial up there. The whole thing was a sham.”

“You’ve got that right,” said Beezle’s voice right next to Emily’s ear. Emily took a hasty step backward. As did Jack. Beezle was now lounging against the bars only an arm’s reach away. Neither of them had heard him approach. “Munifus has got it in for me. He’s the one who turned me in, led the guards to my shop.”

“Then how did he come to be the prosecutor in the case?” asked Wren. “Surely that’s a conflict of interest.”

Beezle laughed. “Conflict of interest. That’s the most

polite way I’ve heard it put. But aye, you’re right. That’s what it is. Thing is, the prosecutor who was supposed to be hearing the evidence ‘mysteriously’ disappeared. He was last seen going out to dinner with Munifus. Hasn’t been sighted since.” Jack cast an annoyingly knowing look in Emily’s direction. “Now, what were you saying, young lordling? About get-

ting me out of here?” “If you agree to help us.” “Oh, I agree.” “You don’t even know what we’re asking,” Wren pointed out. Beezle cracked a smile at Wren. “Very true, good sir. What

do you want, then?” “We’re looking for a fey—a creature called Nimue.” “There’re lots of fey called that.” “This is the one who trapped Merlin—Ow!” Emily glared at Jack, who was rubbing his arm where

Emily had just punched him. Beezle cast a slow look across the three of them. “I see,” he

said. “That Nimue.” “Do you know where she is?” asked Emily. “Might do, might do.” “Stop playing around,” ordered Emily. “Do you or don’t

you?” “Not sure.” Beezle knocked on the bars. “Believe it’s this cage. Makes it hard for me to think, if you know what I mean.”

“How are we even supposed to get you out?” Emily asked. “I assume this lock is magical?”

“Of course. But Munifus has the keys. He’ll be up in his changing room now. At the back of the stage. I’m sure someone with your … determination will be able to think of something.”

Emily glared at the fey. “You’re nothing but a scoundrel and a rogue.”

Beezle grinned and winked at her. “And proud of it,” he said.

After speaking to Beezle, Emily, Jack, and Wren had come up with a hasty course of action. They left the area beneath the stage and found a set of stairs behind the canvas backdrop that descended into a warren of tunnels and rooms that were built beneath the actual bridge itself. They found Munifus’s dressing room, and Jack slipped away, leaving Emily and Wren standing before a bright green door. The words Munifus the Magnificent were painted on the wood in a childlike scrawl.

“Are you ready, Mr. Wren?”

Wren smiled at Emily. “It’s not exactly a challenging part to play, is it? Yes, I’m ready.”

Emily swallowed nervously and nodded. She wasn’t exactly sure if she was ready. At some point she had become the leader, the most experienced in all things fey, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. She missed having Corrigan along, having someone to turn to for advice. Now that he was (hopefully) watching William, all she had to rely on was her own instinct. Oh, she was used to it. It was what she’d been doing since her parents went missing. But it was easier in London. She knew London. She’d grown up there.

Here, she was simply bluffing, hoping nobody noticed that she didn’t know what she was doing.

Wren laid a friendly hand on her shoulder. “Shall we?” he asked gently.

Emily squared her shoulders and knocked hard on the door.

“Leave me be!” shouted Munifus in an aggrieved tone.

Emily knocked again.

“I said, ‘Leave me be!’”

This time Emily kept knocking until the door was yanked open to reveal Munifus the Magnificent, standing in the opening, his jacket unbuttoned to reveal an old, stained vest.

“Gods, girl! Don’t you know a genius must unwind after a performance of such magnitude? Otherwise, he’s a danger to those around him. A drawn weapon, a raised hand, a …

a …” He waved his hand in the air, clutching for inspiration. “A sharpened quill?” suggested Emily.

Munifus froze. “Sharpened quill. Sharpened quill. I like that.” He whirled around and stepped back into his extremely cramped dressing room to scribble something down on a piece of parchment. Once he had finished, he turned around to face Emily once more. He looked her up and down, his upper lip curling with distaste. Then his eyes flicked across to Wren, who hadn’t moved a muscle since the door first opened.

“You’re a human child.”

“Correct.”

Munifus stepped closer. He bent forward, almost folding himself in half so that he could peer into Emily’s eyes. Emily did her best not to flinch.

“Stand on one leg,” he ordered.

“No!”

“You can resist my orders? You’re not bewitched? Bedazzled? You’re not under a spell?”

“No.”

“You’re here under your own free will?”

“Correct.”

“How did you get on the bridge?”

“Not telling.”

“How did you find out about us?”

Emily shook her head but didn’t say anything.

Munifus’s long nose twitched. He stared at Emily for some time, before exhaling loudly. “You … fascinate me, girl.”

“That’s nice,” said Emily. She grabbed hold of Wren’s arm. He still didn’t move. “This man, on the other hand, is. Bewitched, I mean. And bedazzled.”

Munifus barely gave Wren a glance. “Mmm.”

“And he’s from the circus. In his real life. Very sought after. A tumbler.”

Munifus’s face finally showed a flicker of interest. He straightened up and peered at Wren. “Doesn’t look like much.”

“That’s what I thought. Till I saw him, that is. Do you want to see?”

“Are you selling him?” asked Munifus, surprised.

Emily shrugged. “Why not? I’m due my pay. Had to get a special potion and everything to get him here.”

“Oh? And where did you get such a potion?”

Emily almost froze. She hadn’t thought of that. But then a name jumped out at her. “Merrian. He’s a friend. He gave it to me.”

“Merrian?” Munifus sounded amazed. “Are we talking about the same Merrian? Half-giant? Big, heaving lout?”

“Careful there,” said Emily. “Merrian’s a friend. Don’t think he’d take too kindly to being called a heaving lout.”

“No. No, quite. Good call.” Munifus squinted at Wren again, then stepped forward and lifted Wren’s lips, peering at his teeth as if checking a horse’s condition. “Come on then. He can give me a demonstration topside.”

Munifus buttoned up his jacket and stepped from his changing room, pulling the door closed behind him. Emily and Wren followed him back through the tunnels, Emily praying with all her might that there wasn’t some kind of magical lock on the door.

Jack could pick a lot of things, but magical locks were where his talents would let him down.

It was Emily’s job to make sure Jack had enough time to search for the keys. The problem was, she hadn’t really thought past getting Munifus out of his changing room. She, Munifus, and Wren climbed the stairs and emerged from the tunnels into the open air.

Munifus led them onto the stage. Emily looked around curiously. She’d never been on this side of a theater before. The seats were almost empty now, the fey all heading back to their own business now that the show was over.

“Right,” said Munifus. “Show me what he can do.”

Emily turned to face Wren with some trepidation. His eyes had a slightly panicked look about them. “Come on then,” she said. “Show Munifus what you can do. I order you.”

Wren swallowed nervously, then he turned and started to jog across the stage. For a brief second, Emily was worried he was going to make a run for it. But she needn’t have worried. When he reached the edge of the stage, he turned and jogged back toward them.

When he was about ten feet away, he tripped. At least, that’s what it looked like to Emily. He threw his right shoulder down, lifted one foot from the floor, pushed back with the other, and flew through the air. He landed on his shoulder, and it was at that moment that Emily realized he was trying to do a roll. Unfortunately, all he did was bang his shoulder into the wooden planks, tumble head over heels, and land flat on his back with a painful Oof!

“What,” said Munifus slowly, “was that?”

“Uh … that’s his act,” said Emily, desperately seeking inspiration. “He’s a sort of tumbler clown. That may have looked extremely clumsy and painful to you, but he’s spent hours and hours practicing that move.”

“Is he alive? He’s not moving.”

“All part of the act.” Emily hurried forward and pulled on Wren’s arm. He groaned. “Come on. Up you get. Show us another. I order you to.” She stared into Wren’s eyes. “You’re bewitched. You have to do what I say. Now come on. Up you get.”

Wren climbed slowly to his feet. He put his hands in the air, then lowered them to the ground and tried to do a handstand. It took him a few tries to actually get his legs past the halfway point, but when he did finally manage it, he overbalanced and fell all the way, landing on his back once again.

“What do you think?” asked Emily. “You can put him on the bill as the comedy acrobat.”

“Noooo, I don’t think so,” Munifus said. “We don’t have an apothecary traveling with us, and I fear he may need one quite frequently.”

He turned toward the stairs. Emily hurried after him. “Wait!”

Munifus paused, but at that moment, Emily saw Jack and Beezle slipping out from beneath the stage and darting into the crowd.

“Well?” snapped Munifus.

“Nothing,” said Emily. “You can go now. I’m finished with you.”

Munifus stared at Emily in amazement as she turned and led a rather shaky Wren from the stage. As soon as her feet touched the bridge she put on an extra burst of speed in an attempt to put as much distance between themselves and the Regent as possible.

She didn’t want to be anywhere close by when Munifus found out that Beezle had escaped.