Elise Runs and Dorothy Falls

Chapter 11

Dorothy cast her Pirembian Shuttle three times in succession. At the first warp's end, Elise saw ahead snow-capped peaks; they looked beautiful on the cloudless day. Below them like sailing ships on an ocean all green wobbled the very last meadow flowers. Elise would have loved to sit and admire this faraway rim of her homeland Elmul, but she didn't blame Dorothy for moving on. At this point a good meal had become rarer than a good view.

At the second warp's end, Elise inhaled deeply, catching smoke and stifling a cough. Mining settlements dotted the mountainside of a wild frontier. Elise had never imbibed pollutants of any kind, and although clean by our standards, the air did not sit well with her. Men below labored outside rough steel shanties, dredging water out of wells or coal from the shafts of mines. In a hole lit by yellow fire, gangs on catwalks worked a massive drill.

"Pirembo... ari... polare... sorta!"

The magical stream evaporated one final time, and Dorothy began their descent into the Great City of Henden. Elise marveled at the sight. Built into the walls of a huge crater, the buildings looked like the seats in a theatre, each row of structures a little lower than the last until they leveled out at the bottom, which was filled by grey, chalky water. Great metal stilts propped up what buildings stood there. The entire city seemed built of crossing beams. Steel, nickel, aluminum and tin blanketed a world whose skies swirled with smog. To the west lay a vast purple ocean, and on all other sides lay mountains hacked and bored into virtual honeycombs. Foundries quaked in fields of fire beyond.

"This...!"

"This."

Dorothy propelled them as quickly as she could toward the ground. The quicker they disappeared the better, so, in a relatively easy spot to land about half way down the 'bowl', Dorothy came to a stop. Elise slid off, then Dorothy alighted nimbly, catching her wand and someone's eye simultaneously. She lost no time in bullying them.

"What'chu lookin' at? Sod off!" And they did. Dorothy then intimated to Elise, as they began to walk, "Git or git bit, know what I mean?" She said it like she'd said it a thousand times before. She probably had. Give her a rough street, dash it with smoke and scoundrels, and Dorothy could almost fit in. 

Hack cloth and scrubby-clad commoners milled around them. So milled machines, which bore heavy goods on their surfaces or in their many arms. Buildings sagged worse the further down they went, and Elise wondered where they went.

"And that's two full packs, ya prick," Dorothy said a few minutes later. Elise's parents hadn't smoked but she at least knew of pipe weed. She hadn't a clue about Dorothy's 'powder' and she hadn't a clue about these, either, which Dorothy got off a guy on the street corner.

"Cigarettes," the witch told her, snapping her fingers to get one of the little whites going. "These wankers sometimes trip a kid for eight or nine a pack. Always count the ten, and no nucks."

"Nucks?" She liked the word no better than she liked this world, really. Elise was sure not to cough as Dorothy's tiny train got chugging.

"One's been dragged before, then resold."

"Oh." Well that didn't help. At least she and Dorothy had made up, because if the witch were mad she'd be very scared. Elise was still a little scared, and had a hard time keeping close.

If you're ever in a busy place, her tutor once said, hold someone's hand. Elise had probably gotten a little old for that, though, and Dorothy wouldn't have liked it, besides. Honestly, with that cigarette gritted between her white teeth, it looked as though Dorothy didn't like anybody or anything.

Dorothy chewed agitatedly. She had been down this street a hundred times, so what was different? She felt hotter and like bragging; she wanted to start a fight and a fire. She felt this way regularly, but never so badly as now.

"Come on," Dorothy said. "I know a place to eat." Bolstering ahead, the witch led them down the crooked way toward a hole-in-the-wall she recommended.

"And look who it is," said the man in the window, a thick-jawed man, forty, in a greasy brown apron and sporting an uneven mustache. "Dorothy Blainwick." Behind him worked a woman and a boy, presumably his family, who continued their routines without ado. BOBO'S MASH had only standing room for patrons at the window. Dorothy nodded at the only open space.

Elise moved there.

"We'll have two bowls of mash with pickled herring and eel jerky." Pulling a crinkled pink bill from a pocket of her skirt, the witch added, "And two beers. Best be your fattest cuts, too—I'm watchin'."

Cashing it, Bobo took a step to the side and started to work. He chuckled as he did so. "So what brought you back to the crook?"

"Fresh air dudn't do me no good no more."

"Yeah? And who's your friend?"

"Dudn't matter to you, Bobo. Ain't none of your business." She took one can of beer for herself. Elise tentatively took the other one.

"Drinkin' water isn't safe 'round here," the witch added to her. "If it ain't sealed, pipin' hot, or high on the proofs, it ain't for havin'—and better if two of three, yeah?"

"All right..." In scripted font, the name "Broncousel" emblazoned two sides of the tall, bronzy can.

Elise was hungry, but she told herself in advance not to eat too quickly. As the smell of hot mash, pickled herring, and eel jerky met her nose, she wondered what sort of life she would lead in a place like this. Could she be happy? Perhaps, at this point, happiness mattered very little.

Bobo didn't ask Dorothy any more questions, either. When Elise got her food, she ate faster than intended; for a moment she didn't think she'd hold it down. Fortunately she did, albeit she temporarily greened. Germón didn't seem to have any problems. Dorothy didn't eat very much.

"Thanks for the meal," Dorothy said as they finished up, allowing the cat to crawl onto her shoulder again. "See you 'round."

"How are you feeling?" Dorothy asked Elise sometime later.

"I think I'll be all right. How do you feel? Being back in Henden and all?" She glanced at the witch, whose visage appeared like marble. "It must be... well, it must be something."

Buildings loomed over them like an ugly forest. She and the witch limped in uneven gaits down a slumping cobblestone path. The suns were high but in the haze hard to see, while airships overhead cast dark shadows; made whirling sounds with their propellers. Dorothy dropped her empty beer and crushed it underfoot; kicked it. The flattened can bounced from gutter to gutter, dinging like a winner at pinball.

"Ye," replied the witch at last. "I don't like it." They were deep in the city now, deep in the chasm. From somewhere below they smelled rotting sewer water. "Left a lot behind, ya know..."

"No, I don't know," but Elise didn't like the sound of it. "What do you mean?" she asked with tightly crossed arms, suddenly chattering.

Dorothy flexed her fingers. "What I mean is, we're being followed."

Perhaps at last something to sink her teeth into besides cigarettes and dead meat. She wished it'd come sooner.