Revolting Rose

Chapter 16/Part 1 - Helping Hands

On her adventures across the sea, Feidai had been far and wide, meeting all sorts of folk, from the button-mining Dwarves, to Seamonkeys, Sea hags, and even so far that she had an encounter with the Gnomes of Gardenia. Nothing excited her more than learning the ways of other lands, but this darkling business of being a Lady was the second most confusing custom she had ever come across.

Supposedly the dress was unnecessary, but Feidai was quite fond of her petticoat of pockets. It muffled the clanking of her booty and the over-frock also hid everything better than any pair of breeches or kilt ever could. There was also something about the poofiness of it that made her happy, whether it was full of stolen goods or not.

The most confusing custom, however, was darkling spoon navigation at meals. Vasherri had tried to warn them, but she had only mentioned five types of spoon: the tea-spoon, the stew-spoon, the dessert-spork, wooden and ladle. Then, at dinner they had been faced with twenty different food handlers and only three looked anything like spoons.

Feidai was relieved to return to the pod afterwards with all the vegetables she had pilfered. Strange, but simple creatures they were. But alack, before she could relax and do some farming, Saloonka wiggled his way out of a nook in the wall.

"Ye did nay say anything about the birds bein' 'ere. I think one knows what I am, yar. Keeps looking at me funny," she told him.

Birds were the only folks she typically did not like, and although Skarra had not been as irritating as they usually were, he was bound to screech all the way to Amphelius about her warts.

"I don't think they care," Sally replied and pulled off his false hair. "Or maybe they do, but they're not going to do anything about it."

"How do ye know that?"

"Because when birds want to tell everybody about anything, nothing will stop them. Since we're still here, they haven't told anyone."

He was not wrong. They had settled in and no one had raised any sort of fuss about her, but the silly darkling had caused enough of a stir himself.

"Fair enough, yar." Feidai nodded and plucked a jar from a cluster of bulb-shaped mushrooms. A nasty collection of severed bits had been scattered all around their strange room, and they were taking up her potato space.

"Whose fingers be these?" she asked, turning the container in her hand and counted four fingers inside that could not have come from the same hand.

"Franz probably knows who they belong to," Saloonka said, rubbing some gunk on his face.

"Nowt much use to whoever they belong to with their 'ands cut to stubs. Ye be better off not stickin' the blighters back on," Feidai said and twisted open the lid. A plume of vinegary stink wafted out as she plucked out the pickled fingers and added them to a pile of other prodders that the Alphs had made themselves nice and snug on top of.

"Still think whoever lost 'em wouldn't mind seeing their pokers again," Feidai muttered after a spot of contemplation regarding the sizes of a few of them. Fingers that small could only have come from wee sprogs, barely old enough to pick their noses with them.

"Wouldn't they have grown new ones?" Saloonka asked.

He absently lifted a hand and turning it in the light of a glowing mushroom. There was glittery blue stuff on his nails that would make those fingers much better for stealing than any of the other ones.

"Ye can do that yerself?" Feidai considered cutting one off to find out, but left it be after Fluffy Franz came sneaking into their room. "Do ye know anything about these fingers, Franz?"

"My father cuts them off any pickpockets he catches," he replied, eyeballing Feidai's spuds like she had found them in a pocket that was nay hers.

Franz handled himself surprisingly well after Alphonse spat a mouthful of fingers at him. He pulled one from his ear and wrinkled his schnoz as he inspected it.

"Would their owners still be alive?" Sally asked, taking the finger from Franz' hand.

He munched it like a carrot, not even stopping to spit out the bones. The darklings were strange folk, and it made Feidai wonder what had been in the pye she had for dinner. From now on she would keep to porridge and gruel.

"They probably died of infection," Franz dropped his eyes for a moment, but they bounced back up and the lad had an odd smile on his face, "but if any survived you might find them in the slums during the season. The peasants should happily join your revolution."

"Peasants are always the most revolting, after goblins." Saloonka grinned from one ear to the other. "Mum can make them new fingers."

"Better fingers," Alphonse said, clicking a pair of his knitting needles together.

"And while he does that, you said there would be other Ladies, Franz. Where are they?" Sally's grin did not move from his face, but it had changed into the kind a wolf might give a trio of little piggies.

"That's what I came to talk about," Franz replied, with his eyes back on his toes. "They're not here."

"Do you know where they are then?" Sally said, looming over him and looking mighty hungry as he did it.

"Not exactly." Franz held his ground, but Feidai could tell the lad secretly wanted Sally to give him a nibble.

"That's disappointing," Saloonka turned away to the pile of bags, pulled out a goodies-basket, and filled it up with the fingers. "If there are no Ladies to conscript, I'll go visit the peasants and hope there are enough left to revolt."

He stopped filling the basket, clicked his shoes together and spun to face Franz again. "You also told me the enemy stored their army here for the Winter."

"Aye, it'd be Winter right about now, but there are nay any armies." Feidai nodded. It seemed to her that Franz did not know this country of his as well as he pretended to.

"If they're not here then it would be a perfect time to be revolting, wouldn't it?" Sally said, his face splitting with his biggest grin yet.

It was the grin darklings in stories always had; the sort that could reduce a manticore to a trembling puddle of its own heebie-jeebies.

"Don't be so hasty," Franz said calmly, but he was probably used to those grins around here. "It makes it the worst time for that. If they don't join you before you revolt, they'll turn against you after it, and you're just as unprotected here as Lord Kabech if they do."

"Filthy Elves," Sally sneered to himself, then stuffed the sock-dragon and some balls of yarn in with the fingers and swung the basket over his shoulder. "Knit those new fingers as fast as you can, Mum. At least I'll get a small army with those."

He aimed a sharp squizz at Franz and said, "Those peasants better be where you say they are, Franz," then stepped back into the wall-tube he had wriggled out of.

Franz did not shudder at all when he placed Sally's fake hair back on his head.

"I'll find out where the Ladies are, just don't do anything rash until I do," he replied before turning around to Feidai. "If you're going to follow, he'll be headed for the deepest part of the city."

"Yar, I'll find it." She shrugged.

There was nowhere she could not navigate, even tangly mushroom colonies. Although with Sally gone along ahead, she was eager to get a bit of wandering in the city proper before finding him again.