full of blue fire that hovered briefly above his head, then popped out, shedding droplets like a bubble.
Pyrgus was grinning at him. Madame Cardui was smiling at him. Kitterick was looking at him. Mr Fogarty was frowning at him. He was back. Back in the Realm! It wasn't his imagination after all!
Henry pushed himself painfully to his feet. Through the window he could see the distant outline of the Purple Palace with its huge cyclopean stones weathered nearly black with age. It felt a bit like coming home. He took a step and nearly fell.
'Just aftermath,' said Mr Fogarty shortly, to no one in particular.
Henry put one hand out to lean on the bench. He found himself looking at Pyrgus, so he smiled at him.
Madame Cardui said, 'We can't bring him to the Queen in this state.'
Pyrgus said briskly, 'I know something that will perk him up.'
Twenty-six
'What is this place?' Henry asked. Although it was his third visit to the Realm, he'd never actually been in the city before. It was a peculiar experience, like stepping back in time. He kept thinking of drawings he'd seen of Elizabethan London and the movie Shakespeare in Love. The city seemed to be entirely composed of narrow, dirty streets, tiny windows and overhanging buildings. The river might have been a wider version of the Thames. But despite the similarities, there were some spooky differences. This was definitely one of them.
'It's a Fizz Parlour,' Pyrgus said.
The frontage was decidedly garish. Spell coatings caused luminous bands of colour to crawl and intertwine with no concession to good taste. Above the door was a spinning spiral that had an hypnotic effect on passers-by. Henry noticed it was attracting a steady parade of insects and small birds.
'It's not some sort of tavern, is it?' Henry asked. 'Only I'm not allowed in pubs.' Even if it wasn't a tavern, he wasn't sure he wanted to go in. He was feeling a whole lot steadier now, but his muscles still ached and all he really wanted was to lie down somewhere and sleep. Somehow he doubted this was what Pyrgus had in mind.
'No, it's not a tavern. We can go to a tavern if you like, but I thought this might be better for you.' Pyrgus frowned. 'Why aren't you allowed in taverns?'
'I'm too young.'
'You're the same age as me.'
'Yes, I know,' Henry said, and let it go. He eyed the entrance suspiciously. 'It's not ... an opium den, is it?'
'I don't know what opium is,' Pyrgus said. 'But if you want a den, we can go to a saturation den. They're stimulating too.' Then he added brightly, 'But this is completely organic'
'This'll be great, Pyrgus,' Henry said tiredly, belatedly remembering his manners.
The door beneath the whirling spiral opened into a winding tunnel that looked like the inside of an intestine. Walls, ceiling and floor were glistening pink and the whole thing undulated slightly as if pushing them along. Henry didn't like it much - he felt as if the building had digested him - but the intestine proved mercifully short.
They squeezed through a soft, squishy sphincter into a brightly lit open-plan chamber. There were white leather seats arranged in twos across the entire space with tiny little tables between them. Cables snaked from each seat into small black boxes bolted to the floor. Floating overhead was an immense, spell-driven sign in Gothic letters that announced:
THE ORGANIC FIZZ EXPERIENCE
'Grab those seats over there,' said Pyrgus. 'We want to be near the door in case there's a power outrage.'
'What happens in a power outrage?' Henry asked urgently, wondering what a power outrage was. But Pyrgus was already on his way to a booth, presumably to pay somebody.
Henry slid cautiously into one of the seats. It creaked and groaned a little when he moved, behaving exactly the way a leather seat should. He looked around. The Fizz Parlour - whatever it was selling - seemed to be doing mediocre business. There was a scattering of couples, seated facing one another, but the place
Pyrgus was grinning at him. Madame Cardui was smiling at him. Kitterick was looking at him. Mr Fogarty was frowning at him. He was back. Back in the Realm! It wasn't his imagination after all!
Henry pushed himself painfully to his feet. Through the window he could see the distant outline of the Purple Palace with its huge cyclopean stones weathered nearly black with age. It felt a bit like coming home. He took a step and nearly fell.
'Just aftermath,' said Mr Fogarty shortly, to no one in particular.
Henry put one hand out to lean on the bench. He found himself looking at Pyrgus, so he smiled at him.
Madame Cardui said, 'We can't bring him to the Queen in this state.'
Pyrgus said briskly, 'I know something that will perk him up.'
Twenty-six
'What is this place?' Henry asked. Although it was his third visit to the Realm, he'd never actually been in the city before. It was a peculiar experience, like stepping back in time. He kept thinking of drawings he'd seen of Elizabethan London and the movie Shakespeare in Love. The city seemed to be entirely composed of narrow, dirty streets, tiny windows and overhanging buildings. The river might have been a wider version of the Thames. But despite the similarities, there were some spooky differences. This was definitely one of them.
'It's a Fizz Parlour,' Pyrgus said.
The frontage was decidedly garish. Spell coatings caused luminous bands of colour to crawl and intertwine with no concession to good taste. Above the door was a spinning spiral that had an hypnotic effect on passers-by. Henry noticed it was attracting a steady parade of insects and small birds.
'It's not some sort of tavern, is it?' Henry asked. 'Only I'm not allowed in pubs.' Even if it wasn't a tavern, he wasn't sure he wanted to go in. He was feeling a whole lot steadier now, but his muscles still ached and all he really wanted was to lie down somewhere and sleep. Somehow he doubted this was what Pyrgus had in mind.
'No, it's not a tavern. We can go to a tavern if you like, but I thought this might be better for you.' Pyrgus frowned. 'Why aren't you allowed in taverns?'
'I'm too young.'
'You're the same age as me.'
'Yes, I know,' Henry said, and let it go. He eyed the entrance suspiciously. 'It's not ... an opium den, is it?'
'I don't know what opium is,' Pyrgus said. 'But if you want a den, we can go to a saturation den. They're stimulating too.' Then he added brightly, 'But this is completely organic'
'This'll be great, Pyrgus,' Henry said tiredly, belatedly remembering his manners.
The door beneath the whirling spiral opened into a winding tunnel that looked like the inside of an intestine. Walls, ceiling and floor were glistening pink and the whole thing undulated slightly as if pushing them along. Henry didn't like it much - he felt as if the building had digested him - but the intestine proved mercifully short.
They squeezed through a soft, squishy sphincter into a brightly lit open-plan chamber. There were white leather seats arranged in twos across the entire space with tiny little tables between them. Cables snaked from each seat into small black boxes bolted to the floor. Floating overhead was an immense, spell-driven sign in Gothic letters that announced:
THE ORGANIC FIZZ EXPERIENCE
'Grab those seats over there,' said Pyrgus. 'We want to be near the door in case there's a power outrage.'
'What happens in a power outrage?' Henry asked urgently, wondering what a power outrage was. But Pyrgus was already on his way to a booth, presumably to pay somebody.
Henry slid cautiously into one of the seats. It creaked and groaned a little when he moved, behaving exactly the way a leather seat should. He looked around. The Fizz Parlour - whatever it was selling - seemed to be doing mediocre business. There was a scattering of couples, seated facing one another, but the place
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