Upside Down

What now?” Corbyn asked.

“We break out of the break room,” Hen said. “Or fight them.”

My stomach tightened. “You want to fight off grown adults while they try to force me to drink a potion?”

“Even if he got away, what does he do then?” James asked. “Go to the FBI and plead asylum from the boogie man from the invisible flying island?”

“I need to find the Pearls,” I said.

“But Miss Misty already figured it out,” Corbyn said.

I rubbed my thighs. “I um, don’t think those were the Pearls of Prescott.”

“How do you know?” Hen asked.

“I just do!” I said, more emphatically than intended.

“Seerly insight?” James asked.

“I don’t know what it is, but something about the necklace just doesn’t add up.”

“Like what?” Hen asked.

“The fly,” I said.

“The symbol for pranking?” Hen asked.

“I think Arnold left the compass as a false clue.”

James nodded. “We were berated by dwarves while Misty ended up with chatty flamingos, which, apparently, are a thing.”

“There’s more. You know the talking clock?”

“Mr. Chronshaw?” Corbyn asked. “Such a wise clock.”

“Right. It’s like I can sense the person who imbued it,” I said, trying to figure it out myself as I talked about it. “I also felt that at the manifesto in the Pop Shop. But the Pearls don’t feel right.”

“Solid logic there, dude,” Hen said sarcastically.

“If that’s not the Pearls, where are they?” James asked.

“I don’t know,” I said.

James sat down at a table and started mumbling something while I wracked my brain to try to figure out what I’d missed. Hen moved one of the tables and stood on top of it to see if she could pry open the window above the door. Corbyn watched her anxiously, saying things like, “I’m not sure it is proper to stand on a table like that, Miss Henrietta,” or “If my Mapps knew how much I wasn’t getting done. . .”

Unable to think clearly with Corbyn’s anxious muttering, I sat down next to James, only to discover he was muttering too.

“Monster this for feelings have you say I’d better know didn’t I if?” he said.

“Huh?”

“Man old the take!” he said quietly but emphatically. “Way your it have!”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going over my lines. Don’t distract me.”

“Those lines are in Beauty and the Beast?” I asked, confused.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then what–”

“I want to prove I know the lines backwards and forwards.”

“So, you’re rehearsing them . . . backwards?” I asked. This didn’t strike me as a good idea, but what did I know?

“Sometimes you just have to turn everything upside down,” James said. He gestured to Hen. “Even your new BFF thinks so.”

I glanced over to see that Hen had given up on trying to get out through the window and was now doing a handstand on top of the table.

“Turn everything upside down. . . .” I mumbled. For some reason, that thought felt familiar.

I turned to James. “Could you lend me your phone?”

James slid it across the table to me, saying, “Takes it all that’s . . . Belle, word little one.”

I entered his passcode and flipped through the pictures I sent him yesterday until I found the one I was looking for: the Manifesto.

This World is Upside Down.

You will never find the Pearls of Prescott
Don’t fall victim to the notion that
You are worthy
I’ve learned this:
Trust in my own strength
Because of this, I do not
Reveal my secrets to the young and unlearned
I will exert every effort to
Destroy all my work so the naïve cannot benefit from it
Because of what I’ve experienced, I’ll never
Trust others
You must
Hear me now:
In all of my actions
I will be justified
At the throne of judgment
The key is
Betray others before they betray you
The surest way to pain is to
Allow others to get close to you
If you learn nothing else, remember this:
When the earth faces its own destruction
I work to prevent the day
Of liberation from its own just consequences
I am driven to grant the world the gift of what it is worth
People don’t change
You’d be stupid to believe
If you pursue this path
You can change things for the better

This World is Upside Down.

I looked at it, thinking about the words upside down.

Upside down.

Upside. . . .

Down.

Down. . . .

Upside?

My brain caught ahold of this, then I tentatively started reading the lines in reverse order:

This World is Upside Down.

You can change things for the better
If you pursue this path
You’d be stupid to believe
People don’t change
I am driven to grant the world the gift of what it is worth
Of liberation from its own just consequences
I work to prevent the day
When the earth faces its own destruction
If you learn nothing else, remember this:
Allow others to get close to you
The surest way to pain is to
Betray others before they betray you
The key is
At the throne of judgment
I will be justified
In all of my actions
Hear me now:
You must
Trust others
Because of what I’ve experienced, I’ll never
Destroy all my work so the naïve cannot benefit from it
I will exert every effort to
Reveal my secrets to the young and unlearned
Because of this, I do not
Trust in my own strength
I’ve learned this:
You are worthy
Don’t fall victim to the notion that
You will never find the Pearls of Prescott

This World is Upside Down.

“I figured it out,” I breathed, heart thumping.

“What?” Corbyn asked, landing on my shoulder.

There was a brisk knock on the door and the doorknob attempted to turn.

“Just a sec!” Hen said, moving the table away from the door.

“Do we really want to let the mind wiping brigade in?” James asked as the door opened.

“Oh yeah,” Hen said.

However, the person who entered wasn’t Valentine. It was the man I’d seen in the mayor’s office earlier.

“Excuse me, I understand the Seer is in here,” he said.

“I’m over here,” I said, standing and raising my hand.

“Hey Marshall!” Hen said cheerily.

The man seemed to ignore her, looking only at me.

“It is also my understanding that Councilman Valentine intends to wipe your memory?”

“Yup,” Hen said.

“Hmmm, I see,” Marshall said, nodding. “You should all know that although he and I disagree on many things, I believe he genuinely means well. He wants what is best for this community and is concerned about the possibility of having foreign Underlanders running around with knowledge of our world.”

“Yeah yeah, he’s been through all that with–”

“Excuse you, Miss Bloomberry, but I was not done speaking,” he said sternly.

Hen rolled her eyes as Marshall continued.

“As I was saying, Valentine is looking out for this community, trying to keep it pure. However, I believe he is mistaken in this matter.”

I looked up at him, unsure where he was going with this.

“You . . . don’t think they should wipe my memory?”

Marshall’s face flashed with annoyance. “Yes, that is precisely what I’m saying.”

“All of you will agree that I was never here, and I will agree to neglect to lock the door behind me.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because it’s the right thing to do, even if my daughter was the rightful winner of Mr. Valentine’s competition.”

“You’re Misty’s dad?” James asked.

“Yes,” he said.

James and I exchanged glances. “Thank you,” I said, unsure what to say.

“You, fairy,” he said, turning to Corbyn. “See to it that these young people make it out discreetly.”

“But I’m not sure it would be proper to–”

“It is proper. Do it.”

Mr. Marshall left abruptly.

For ten seconds, nobody moved. Finally, James said, “The fat lady’s not going to sing. Let’s go!”

That broke our trance, and we sprinted out. Corbyn darted around a corner then back down the hall of busts before taking us down a stairway. When we reached the main floor, I was about to exit but was stopped by Corbyn.

“Not that way, not that way,” he whispered urgently.

We continued following him below ground. Once we reached the bottom, he wheeled us into a dark tunnel. Dull stones illuminated the walls with a greenish-yellow hue. It felt creepy, but Corbyn didn’t seem concerned, so I figured there wasn’t any reason for me to be.

Finally, we went back up a stairwell, which led to a door that opened in front of City Hall. Mr. Valentine was leading a pair of constables up the main steps, one of them holding a glass bottle full of an amber fluid.

“That doesn’t look appetizing at all,” James murmured as we watched them pass. “In fact, it looks like seriously dehydrated–”

“Let me show you what I figured out,” I said. “James, can you lend me your phone again?”

I quickly explained what I’d realized in the break room.

“That’s much less depressing,” James observed after I read it to them.

“Where to, then, Seer?” Hen asked. I couldn’t tell whether she was being sarcastic or not.

“Is there a throne of judgment?” I asked.

“I don’t know of any throne of judgment,” Hen said.

“That’s not quite true,” Corbyn said. “My Great Uncle Terrence lives next to the Flamingo Springs Museum. He says it used to be used as a courtroom before everything was moved to Colonial Central.”

“That’s as good a lead as any,” I said. “Can you take us there?”

“Yessir,” Corbyn said, turning in midair and flying away from City Hall.

The museum wasn’t far from the city plaza. Just a couple blocks. While we walked, I wondered whether Valentine had discovered that we’d broken out. Would he send the constables to track me down? Put out wanted posters with my face on them?

The museum was a much more serious-looking building than those around it. It wasn’t as large as City Hall, but it was still massive with thick, white pillars lining the front. It was four stories high and sported massive windows. A couple dozen steps led to several pairs of imposing doors.

As we hiked up the stairs, James complained loudly. “I swear they build these stairs to intimidate people.”

Inside, we were greeted by a fairy sitting on the shoulder of a young woman behind a desk.

“Hi there,” I said.

“Good morning,” the fairy said. “None of you are going to the Plaza Celebration?”

“Too crowded,” Hen said. “Looks like you got stuck with the holiday shift.”

“Don’t remind me,” the fairy said. “At least the griffin races will go right by here in an hour.”

“How many tickets are you buying?” the woman asked.

Buying? Uh oh. I didn’t want to depend on Hen’s generosity again.

“How much is it?” I asked.

“One silver and three bronze links,” the woman answered.

“Apiece,” the fairy added.

“This is Santiago the Seer,” she said. “And we’re here on Seerly business.”

“You’re the new Seer?” the fairy asked. “Prove it.”

“How? I don’t know how to do anything yet,” I said.

“That’s disappointing,” the woman said. “But it doesn’t change the fact that it will cost you one silver and three bronze links.”

“Can’t we let him in?” the fairy asked. “He is the Seer.”

“Santiago did just barely predict that someone in our presence is going to get violently ill within the next twenty seconds,” Hen said.

“I did?” I asked.

Hen kicked me.

“You can do that?” James asked as I realized what Hen was doing.

Hen kicked him.

“Yes, James, he can and he did,” Hen said.

“It will be a big convulsing fit,” I added.

Understanding now gleamed in James’s eye and he gave me a scowl before saying, “I don’t think he meant–”

And then he seized up and collapsed to the ground, shaking. It freaked me out, even though I knew he was acting.

“What- what’s going on?” the fairy asked nervously.

“It’s Fate,” I invented. “I don’t think it will let up until I’m allowed to continue with my mission.”

“And it’s getting worse,” Hen said. I thought I caught James glare at her before taking it up a notch, his extremities thrashing violently. His face had turned a deep shade of red and I saw sweat beading up.

“You predicted this?” the woman asked me.

“He did,” Hen said.

“I also predict that it will let up if you let us in,” I said. Not technically a lie.

“Please, Seer, do what you need to do,” the fairy said, earning a glare from the woman. “We’ll take care of the invalid.”

“Thank you,” I said. I started forward and seconds later, James stopped convulsing. “I think he’ll be fine if you just give him a few minutes to recover.”

The fairy looked sympathetic although the woman looked pretty suspicious.

“Maybe you should get him some water,” the fairy told the woman.

“Fine,” she said, walking off in a huff.

“I don’t think he needs–” I said but this time James kicked me. I couldn’t blame him after that show.

“Seer, before you go, could you tell me. . . .” the fairy began, one of her legs twisting anxiously behind the other. I immediately felt uncomfortable. What on earth could I do to help her?

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s just that, I like this other fairy and I think he may like me back. But he’s a mathematician—totally out of my league—and his family has been in the Upper Vipple for generations while mine isn’t. . . . I’ve been thinking about asking him out, but I’m not sure it would be proper. What should I do?”

“Why not just ask him out and see what happens?” I said.

“But if we want to get married, he could get consigned to the Lower Vipple,” she said.

This whole Vipple thing was sounding more and more like really bad news. “Look, I don’t know anything about Vipples. But I bet you’d regret not asking this mathematician fairy guy out if you never gave it a shot. You can worry about other problems if they come up.”

“Thanks, Seer, truly wise words!” the fairy said as the other woman came back with the glass of water.

I saw James roll his eyes out of the corner of my eye before chugging the glass.

I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Glancing around, I noticed a couple people dressed in long, dark, maroon cloaks standing outside of the museum.

“Let’s get going,” I said. We hurried away and Hen pointed to one of a pair of carpeted wood stairways that wound its way up into the building. Not having any better ideas, I nodded, and we went upstairs.

The second floor had the same old carpet, wood walls, and artifacts on display. I was particularly interested in a scale model of Flamingo Springs as we passed it. I’d have to come back later. If I could come up with one silver and three bronze links that is.

“Well?” James said expectantly.

“Well what?” Hen asked.

“Isn’t anyone going to compliment me on my brilliant performance?” James asked.

“I didn’t like lying,” I said uncomfortably.

“I didn’t bring money and I doubt you have any,” Hen said.

“Giving fake prophecies seems wrong.”

“People here do almost revere you,” James noted.

“I’m not sure I could get used to that,” I said.

“Pity. I think I’d like it,” Hen said.

“You would,” James said.

“Mr. Santiago, why didn’t you just show them your mantle?” Corbyn asked.

We all stopped and looked at each other. I’d totally forgotten about that.

“Hen, Corbyn, did you see those people out there?” I asked nervously, moving on.

“No,” Corbyn said.

Hen peered out the window. “I don’t see anyone.”

“Just a few minutes ago, there I saw some people wearing these dark red cloaks,” I said.

“That sounds ominous,” James said.

“That’s what the Sombras wear,” Corbyn said, twisting his hands.

“Where is the courtroom part of the building?” I asked, glancing around.

“This way,” Corbyn said, pointing to some mahogany doors.

“Why is it that fantasy villains always wear dark cloaks?” James asked as we followed the small fairy.

“Fantasy villains?” Hen repeated. “I’m pretty sure these dudes are real.”

I pulled the door open and held it while James, Corbyn, and Hen entered.

I’d been to a courtroom before in the Underland, but it was much smaller than this one. We walked down an aisle with wooden benches on either side of us. Above us, there was a balcony with additional seating. A pair of flagpoles with purple and green banners were behind the bench.

“Where’s this throne of judgment?” Hen asked.

“I can’t be sure, but I’d hazard a guess that it’s that big chair right in front of everything,” James drawled.

“Thanks, James,” I said as we walked to the front.

Corbyn beat us there, fluttering around it several times. “I don’t see any key,” he said.

“It might not be obvious,” I said.

I searched the old but very comfortable-looking purple chair while James went under the desk and ran his hand along inside. Hen and Corbyn continued investigating the front.

“It would help if we knew what we were looking for,” James said. “I don’t suppose the clever poem says anything about what this key looks like?”

“Not that I know of,” I said as I looked underneath the chair.

“Were there any other judgment halls around on the flyland during Arnold’s lifetime,” James asked.

“Yes, yes, half a dozen,” Corbyn said.

“Oh good, half a dozen,” James said.

“Hey I found something,” Hen said, knocking on something metallic.

We walked over to the other side of the bench where Hen was touching a golden seal depicting a lady holding a lantern.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Check out her nose,” she said. “You can twist it!”

“How did you discover that the nose twists?” James asked incredulously.

“Um, by twisting it. Wouldn’t you?” she said, twisting it further around as James rolled his eyes.

“What if we break it?” Corbyn asked nervously.

As if in response, there was a loud snapping sound and the entire seal swung forward revealing a hidden compartment. Inside the compartment, there was what looked like a large, bright green tennis ball. A breathing tennis ball. All four of us looked at each other for a few moments, then looked back inside just in time to see two little wings extend out on either side of it and two tiny dark eyes flicker open and a small beak stretch open in a tiny yawn.

“It’s adorable!” Hen said elatedly.

“That bird does not look flightworthy,” James said.

“It’s a starkin,” Corbyn said, landing on Hen’s shoulder. “They’re rare, magical, really smart, and can hibernate for long periods of time.”

“That seems like a very bad idea. Who knows what diseases it might have?” James said as Hen reached her hand forward to touch it.

“Oh come on,” Hen said.

However, once her finger came within an inch of the bird we heard a loud CRACK! and the floor suddenly jolted upwards, hurtling us up into the air in different directions. I landed with a thud on a wooden chair, which promptly tumbled onto its back where I landed with a thud.

“Ouch!” I said, standing and rubbing my butt. “Is everyone OK?”

I looked around and saw that Hen was getting to her feet in the opposite corner of the room with Corbyn next to her. I couldn’t even see James.

“Yeah, although my butt hurts something fierce!” Hen answered.

“I’m OK,” Corbyn said, rising above her.

“James, where are you?” I asked, looking around nervously.

“I’m just up here, waiting for something interesting to happen,” James said from above me. I took a step forward and could see James up above me on the balcony.

I looked back at the bird, which hadn’t moved. I took a step toward it and two chairs immediately slid together, blocking the aisle. Hen started forward as well only to have a table with a vase on it stand in front of her.

“Well isn’t this peachy?” James’s voice came down from above. I looked up to see that several chairs now blocked his way to the stairwell.

“Corbyn, maybe you can make it there?” I suggested.

Corbyn looked nervous but nodded and started flying toward the front only to have a half dozen chairs lift off the floor and begin making complicated patterns in the air. One of them soared straight at Corbyn who was forced to stop as the chair redirected him toward the wall, which he smashed into.

“Maybe if we all go at once,” Hen suggested.

It was worth a shot.

“On three?” I said and the others nodded.

“One, two, three!” Hen said.

I leapt over the two chairs only to have two more scooch underneath my feet. I landed on top of one and it twisted me towards the right. I barely grabbed onto the back of the chair in time to prevent myself from tumbling to the ground. The chair didn’t stop moving, carrying me sideways closer to the side of the courtroom opposite of Hen and Corbyn.

I tried leaping to another chair but this time I wasn’t so lucky. It twisted the opposite direction from the first one and I fell onto the floor and the chair reared up on two of its legs and then landed on top of me, pinning me down across my chest. I could tell from the sounds made by James, Hen, and Corbyn that they weren’t meeting with much success either.

“OK, how about a new strategy,” I said, as I struggled my way out from under the chair. “Let’s at least try to get all of us together in one spot.”

“I can’t even get to the stairs,” James said. “Much as I’d like to join the homicidal furniture down there.”

“Just jump down,” Hen said.

“That’s gotta be 15 feet! We were lucky enough that first throw didn’t kill any of us.”

It was probably more like 8 feet from the floor of the balcony to the lower floor, but otherwise, he had a point. I was frankly surprised none of us were seriously injured.

“Climb over the railing then lower yourself down as much as you can before dropping,” Hen said.

James climbed over the railing then lowered himself as much as he could while still keeping his feet on the ledge. The whirling chairs continued to fly in midair, an arm’s length from his back.

“Try to roll when you land,” Hen said.

“If I break my neck, I’m suing you,” James said.

“Suing—is that some kind of Underlander curse?” Hen asked innocently as James glared at her.

“No Ms. Henrietta, suing happens up here as w–” Corbyn started but he was interrupted as James dropped suddenly until he was hanging just by his hands from the top of the railing. I’m not sure if that was on purpose or not, but I could hear him making a funny noise before his hand slipped and he came crashing down, tumbling on his backside.

Feeling like we had finally accomplished something, I turned back to the bird.

“Maybe we should pick a smaller goal,” I said, pointing to the railing. “Let’s try to get across that.”

“Sounds good to me,” Hen said.

“Now!” I said, and we charged forward.

I darted left as a chair slid with me. I jumped onto it, then onto another chair, trying to be unpredictable. The chair twisted, but I maintained my grip.

I half expected it to tumble to the floor under my weight, but instead it catapulted me over the railing. The remaining chairs in the back of the room herded through the aisle, forming a raging river of furniture at the front of the courtroom.

Corbyn buzzed around, weaving a complex route as different chairs and a judge’s gavel spun toward him. He then took a nose dive, dodging a second spinning chair as he dropped down to the floor a couple yards ahead of where he started.

Hen leapt over a chair, landing on another one, then spring boarded over a third. This one lurched, catapulting her up into the air where she somehow managed to catch onto the back of one of the chairs. It dragged her around as she struggled to get her other hand onto it as well.

She dangled precariously from the chair as it careened towards me.

“Let go!” I yelled.

She did and came hurtling towards me, taking me down. I wheezed, the air knocked out of me.

“You caught me! We’re even now, Underboy!” she said, patting my head.

I don’t know that I caught her so much as she crashed into me. James tumbled over the railing into the center of the room near us. Now that all the chairs in the room had formed a moving, protective wall in the center of the room, Corbyn was able to rejoin us without any obstacles.

“Brilliant plan,” James said, rubbing his backside.

“But how are we going to get through that?” Corbyn squeaked, pointing to the dangerous furniture inferno.

James pulled out his cell phone. “There’s no way I’m not getting a picture of that,” he said.

“You can’t show anyone though.”

“I know,” he said. “Doesn’t mean I can’t look at it later and think about how awesome I– we were.”

“If we survive,” Corbyn said morbidly.

“What if we actually do what the words behind the bird said?” James asked.

Hen and I looked at each other, confused. “There were words behind the bird?” I repeated.

“Well yeah,” James said. “I mean, we are still hunting for clues, aren’t we?”

“Just tell us what it said,” Hen groaned. “If I wanted a lecture I’d talk to my parents.”

“It said, Hop aboard and remember that misdirection is your direction,” James said, rather smugly.

“Hop aboard what?” Corbyn asked.

“The judge’s bench?” Hen suggested.

“No, I think it’s the furniture,” I said, pointing to the vortex of chairs and tables.

“You can’t be serious,” James said.

“Misdirection is your direction?” Hen repeated. “Are you sure you’re remembering that right?”

“I’m absolutely certain!” James said.

“Never doubt James’s ability to remember his lines,” I advised her.

“Maybe we just turn away from it once we get on one?” Corbyn suggested.

“Seems like just as good an idea as any,” I said. “James, why don’t you and Corbyn wait behind.”

Neither of them seemed to mind that idea at all.

“Let’s do it,” Hen said confidently.

We approached the furniture inferno in the center of the room. The legs of the bottom row of chairs scraped against the floor while a whole melee of furniture spun on different axes in the center. I couldn’t even see the judge’s bench anymore through the chaos.

Hen went first, landing between two chairs, straddling the armrests while gripping the backs. I went next, although instead of hitting the chair I was aiming for, I ended up on a small stool, nearly toppling off. Beneath me, the stool jumped. I lost my grip and tumbled onto a different moving chair.

I scrambled into a kneeling position only to see one of the flag poles coming toward me. I lowered my body but the pole thunked the very top of my head pretty hard.

“Santiago, turn toward the exit!” James yelled at me from somewhere.

It was as if I’d forgotten what we’d just talked about thirty seconds ago. I turned towards what I hoped was the back of the courtroom.

For a long, terrifying moment, nothing seemed to change.

Then I felt the chair change direction, gliding smoothly toward the judge’s bench. Hen was ahead of me gliding on her chair, looking much less disheveled than me.

Our chairs stopped right in front of the snoozing bird.

Hen reached forward with her finger, then hesitated.

“I think it’s OK,” I said.

She nodded, then carefully prodded the bird. The whirlwind of furniture stopped. James and Corbyn rejoined us.

“In the words of Sigourney Weaver, whoever wrote this episode should die,” James said.

I turned back to the bird and saw that its eyes were open again. It let out another yawn and stretched out wings that looked to be half the size of my thumb.

This time I reached out my finger towards its feet. I didn’t touch it, just held my finger out in front of it. The bird looked curiously up at me, then hopped off of its perch, wrapping its tiny feet around my finger.

“Hello there, little guy,” I said, petting its head.

Squerk! The desk opened, revealing a metallic chute.

“This looks fun,” Hen said.

Squerk! The bird said.

“I’m pretty sure that’s magic bird for ladies first,” James said.

Hen grinned and dove down into the tunnel headfirst. The three of us boys leaned in, listening to the clunks and the scrape of fabric on metal until there was a thunk and it went quiet.

“Are you OK?” I called down.

“Is it safe?” James added.

A few seconds later, we heard an anguished scream, “NAAAOOOOO the tunnel monster got me.”

“You’re hilarious. We’re all R-O-F-L up here,” James said with a scowl. He positioned himself at the opening. “It’s an Underlander thing, Corbyn,” he said, noticing the fairy’s confused expression.

James pushed off and slid down the tunnel. I looked at Corbyn, having a realization.

“You know,” I said. “It might have been better if you had gone down first, since you could more easily fly back up.”

Corbyn shivered. “Just as well. I’m not much of a trailblazer.”

“I dunno, you looked like a bit of a trailblazer a few minutes ago, dodging flying chairs and stuff.”

“Th-thanks!” Corbyn said. He then fluttered down the tunnel after them.

I smiled and positioned myself to follow, bird still on my shoulder.

“You sure you want to come with us?” I asked it.

Squerk!

“OK,” I said. Just as I was pushing off, I thought I heard a sound behind me. I glanced back and thought I caught a glimpse of maroon before gravity pulled me down into the darkness.