Read Flora Segunda: Being the Magickal Mishaps of a Girl of Spirit, Her Glass-Gazing Sidekick, Two Ominous Butlers (One Blue), a House with Eleven Thousand Rooms, and a Red Dog (Magic Carpet Books) for Free Online

Valefor.”
    “Will you come back, Flora Segunda?” he asked anxiously.
    “I don’t know if I will be able to find you again.”
    “I’ll mark the way;” he promised. “And now that I feel better, I will make sure you land in exactly the right place!”
    “I will try.” I pushed the window open, swung down the uneven stone wall, lost my grip on the ivy, and fell, with a great puff of dust, into a pile of leaves.
    Something thumped next to my head. When I got my wind back, I dug through the crackling leaves until I felt the spine of my overdue library book, which I had left on the settee in my bedroom. Just like Idden had said, Valefor and his magicking were helpful! Rolling to my feet, I looked up. The window was now closed, but I thought I could see a faint pale hand, waving at me frantically. I waved back and ran to catch the horsecar, feeling almost cheerful.

FIVE
Poppy Throws a Cake. Barking Dogs. Broken Glass. Temper Tantrum.
    T HAT EVENING, I SAT in the Below Kitchen, having a late dessert and thinking. Somehow, I had been lost for less time than I had thought. By running as fast as my short legs could carry me, I had made the 7:45 horsecar in time, and slid into the Round Rotunda just as the first bell was ringing. By the time the second bell tolled, I was safely in line, ready for Morning Assembly. At lunch, Librarian Naberius accepted my fifty-one-glory fine with a fishy grin, and handed over volume 2 of Nini Mo’s autobiography.

    No visit to Madama, no letter to Mamma. A narrow squeak, but a squeak all the same.
    The rest of the day had been productive. In Dressmaking, I got the bodice of my Catorcena dress cut out. In Scriptive, I finished almost all the invitations, and in Literature, I got 100 percent on the pop vocab test. And all the while, my mind had spun around on the topic of Valefor, and it was spinning now still.
    Poor Valefor, all alone and forlorn. I know a little something about feeling all alone and forlorn. Ayah so, he was pompous, that’s true, but he was our Butler, and a part of our family. He was a magickal entity and must therefore know a lot about the Current, and therefore could probably be mighty helpful to me in my rangery aspirations. I wished that Udo, my best friend, were available to discuss, but—so annoying—he’d been under house arrest for two weeks and thus incommunicado for anything non-school-related. I wondered if the Elevator really would take me directly back to the Bibliotheca. I wouldn’t mind talking to Valefor some more, but I didn’t relish being lost again.
    My thoughtful chewing was interrupted by thundering from above. When the dogs started to howl out a welcome, all the joy went right out of my chocolate hazelnut cake. Suddenly the luscious cake felt as heavy as a pair of shoes in my stomach. The dogs bolted out of the kitchen and up the Below Stairs, yelping joyously.
    Once in a red moon, Poppy staggers down the Stairs of Exuberance and causes a lot of commotion. I always hope that he will save his acting out for when Mamma is home, because she puts up with nothing. The first sign of trouble from him and out comes her pearl-handled revolver and whack goes the barrel on the side of his head. Then she carries him back to the Eyrie, and we don’t hear much from Poppy for a while.
    I have a harder time handling him, because I don’t believe in whacking people to make them behave, even though I admit that it seems to work for Mamma. She is a soldier and soldiers are prone to whacking, so it’s understandable that she would feel comfortable with it. I have found that cajoling people and making nice is as effective as whacking, but it’s hard to cajole someone who is drunk and half mad.
    “Where’s Buck?” Poppy demanded, materializing in the doorway like a dæmon from the Abyss. He pushed a dog down off his chest and nudged another one out of his way with a grimy bare foot.
    “Mamma’s on inspection,” I said warily, from behind my fork. Like I