A Week without Tuesday by Stevie Lewis

Author:Stevie Lewis
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781627795432
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co. (BYR)

Vivienne Small stepped forward and waved. Even while the creatures still hovered above the statue, Vivienne heard a musical voice chiming inside her mind.

“We are pleased to see you again, Vivienne Small,” said Harlequin from afar.

The flying steeds came in to land, and the crowd watched in amazement as the two riders alighted from their farouche and stepped across the square to shake hands with a small, blue-winged girl who was known to none of them.

“Harlequin, Tarquin,” Vivienne said.

“Our enemy plagues your skies,” Tarquin said, and Vivienne heard his eerie doubled voice from his mouth and in her head.

“They are even more horrible than I imagined,” Vivienne said. “They took my friend.” Her shoulders sagged. “I think she’s dead.”

“We are here to help, Vivienne Small,” said Harlequin.

Vivienne, sensing the tension in the crowd, fluttered up onto the stone rim of the fountain and called out in the loudest voice she could manage.

“People! Cats! Please don’t be afraid. This is Harlequin, and this is Tarquin. They come to us from another world, where they are the sworn enemies of the vercaka, the terrible birds that attacked your city. These two … they have come to help you rid your city of these birds forever.”

As the people of the city stirred and murmured uncertainly, Miranda Templeton, the mayor of the City of Clocks, swept in from the Town Hall at the edge of the square, wearing a magenta-feathered hat of surpassing elevation. Baxterr emerged from among the legs of astonished onlookers and sat quietly beside Vivienne, while the cats of the city resumed their daily rituals of grooming and yoga and pretended that the dog did not exist.

“Clockians, one and all,” Miranda Templeton said in her compelling yet mellifluous voice. “Let us welcome these newcomers with our usual grace and generosity.” She tipped her spectacular hat to each one of the visitors in turn and invited them to follow her in the direction of the Town Hall.

“I propose that we convene the council at noon precisely,” she said. She turned to Harlequin and Tarquin and added, “And when I say noon, I—as the mayor—take my time from the Town Hall clock, which, as you can see, is mounted on the highest and most elaborate of our dreaming spires and is also the largest and loudest of any clock in the city.”

“I’m sorry,” Vivienne said, craning to look up at Miranda, who would have been tall even without her very tall hat. “Could we have a word in private?”

Miranda leaned down to the small girl with the fierce green eyes and blue wings.

“What is it?” she murmured.

“My name is Vivienne Small,” said Vivienne quietly. “This dog and I, we have our own quest. We have come to the city to find a door that leads to a gardener who is able to stop the worlds from colliding.” She indicated the world above, still pouring its icy waters into the Mabanquo River, although the flow had slowed to a large trickle.

“I do not know this gardener, Vivienne Small,” said the mayor.

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