Part 26 (1/2)
”If I need my b.u.t.t kissed, I'll ask for it,” Bertie said.
”What do you want kissed instead?” he asked.
”Shut up.”
He obliged.
”I don't like this any more than you do, all right?” Bertie said.
He nodded and pressed his lips together in an exaggerated silence that thoroughly irritated her, but everything irritated her right now. Bertie shoved the now-empty cup at him and stomped off.
”What are you looking at?” she snarled at a member of the Ladies' Chorus who was sorting out t.i.tus Andronicus.
”Nothing!” Three pages fluttered to the ground, and the girl rushed to pick them up.
Peaseblossom returned before Bertie could yell and kick things. ”Hey, boss lady!”
”How are we progressing?” Bertie demanded.
”We can't find any more Hamlet pages, but I'm pretty sure we read in all the entrance lines.” Peaseblossom pointed at the stage. ”All the Players from that show are present and accounted for, at any rate. I checked them off against the cast list twice.”
Bertie opened The Book. Counting under her breath and then checking again just to be sure, she whispered to Peaseblossom, ”All pages from Hamlet are back in. I guess it just takes the entrance lines.”
”That's good,” Peaseblossom said, ”because there's something else you need to know.”
Bertie sighed. ”More bad news?”
”No, no. Not really bad . . .” Peaseblossom's voice trailed off.
”Just tell me what it is.”
”We're sorting more pages than just Shakespeare.”
”What?!”
”It's The Complete Works of the Stage, not The Complete Works of the Bard. So it's not just the Shakespearean plays, it's-”
”All the plays ever written.” Bertie's legs wobbled, or it might have been structural damage to the building that made the floor tremble.
”Breathe!” Peaseblossom advised. ”It will be all right. Really it will. Why don't we just leave it at Hamlet? Why does it have to be all of them?”
There was a shudder overhead, another shower of plaster, paint, and frescoed ceiling.
”That's why, Pease,” Bertie said, shaking the dust out of her hair. ”Besides which, even if the Theatre weren't falling apart, what would you propose we do with the pages in the meantime? File them? Cart them off in boxes? Even Mr. Hastings couldn't handle this mess.”
”Then the plan is still the same,” the fairy said. ”It's just going to take longer to get it done, is all.”
”We have to finish before Friday night.” Bertie forced herself to sound calm and firm.
”That gives us the rest of today, tomorrow, and most of Friday,” Peaseblossom said, trying to sound upbeat. ”We need to maximize efficiency, so let's run multiple plays at the same time.”
Bertie looked at seat after seat filled with the various scripts. ”Finish sorting the pages off the stage, and then have two platforms lowered in, three if we can fit them. I want every available Player acting around the clock until further notice. Is someone still saying Nate's line?”
”One of the minor Players,” the fairy said. ”It just needs time to work.”
But Bertie felt the hope, round and gold, slipping away from her like a coin thrown into a wis.h.i.+ng fountain. She clung to it with determination.
”I know you don't want to consider it,” Peaseblossom said, her voice soft, ”but Sedna's magic may be stronger than the Theatre's. She is a G.o.ddess, after all.”
”I don't care. Keep trying.”
”Will do!” Peaseblossom said before she darted back toward the stage.
”Bertie!”
”What now?” Bertie glowered at the new arrival. ”Mustardseed, if you tell me one more thing has gone wrong, I will hurl myself off the second balcony.”
”Okay,” he said. ”Nothing else has gone wrong.”
She debated leaving it at that, then yielded. ”Are you lying?”
He squirmed a bit and pulled his vest over his face. The next words were m.u.f.fled by quilting and embroidery. ”Depends on how you define the word 'wrong.' ”
”What is it?”
He peeked at her with an eye as bright as the black b.u.t.ton next to it. ”Nothing. I mean, I just noticed that Ariel's . . . er . . . gone.”
Bertie looked around; sure enough, Ariel was nowhere to be seen in the flurry of activity. ”I didn't actually forbid him to leave the immediate vicinity. I should have, but I didn't.”
”Do you want me to look for him?” Mustardseed asked.
”It would be a good idea to find him before he does something stupid, yes,” said Bertie. ”Tell him I said to get back in here and that's an order.”
”Got it!”
Bertie sat down on the floor and closed her eyes. For the moment, no one was looking her direction, pulling on her sleeve, or calling her name- ”Bertie?”
So much for that.
”Yes?” She cracked one eye open.
”You look tired,” Ophelia said.
”I am tired,” said Bertie. ”And there's really no end in sight, is there?”
The water-maiden's smile was rueful. ”I did try to warn you. About The Book, that is.”
”Yes, you did.” Bertie motioned to the place next to her. ”You can join me, if you don't mind sitting on the ground.”
Ophelia settled herself with a graceful folding of limbs and arrangement of skirts. ”I wanted to apologize.”