The Royal Palace was certainly a magnificent building, with large and
lofty rooms and superb furnishings, all being in shades of blue. The
soldier and the boy passed through several broad corridors and then came
to a big hall where many servants were congregated. These were staring
in bewilderment at Cap'n Bill, who had been introduced to them by
Captain Ultramarine. Now they turned in no less surprise to examine the
boy, and their looks expressed not only astonishment but dislike.
The servants were all richly attired in blue silk liveries and they
seemed disposed to resent the fact that these strangers had been added
to their ranks. They scowled and muttered and behaved in a very
unfriendly way, even after Captain Ultramarine had explained that the
newcomers were merely base slaves, and not to be classed with the free
royal servants of the palace.
One of those present, however, showed no especial enmity to
Button-Bright and Cap'n Bill, and this Blueskin attracted the boy's
notice because his appearance was so strange. He looked as if he were
made of two separate men, each cut through the middle and then joined
together, half of one to half of the other. One side of his blue hair
was curly and the other half straight; one ear was big and stuck out
from the side of his head, while the other ear was small and flat; one
eye was half shut and twinkling while the other was big and staring; his
nose was thin on one side and flat on the other, while one side of his
mouth curled up and the other down. Button-Bright also noticed that he
limped as he walked, because one leg was a trifle longer than the other,
and that one hand was delicate and slender and the other thick and
hardened by use.
"Don't stare at him," a voice whispered in the boy's ear; "the poor
fellow has been patched, that's all."
Button-Bright turned to see who had spoken and found by his side a tall
young Blueskin with a blue-gold chain around his neck. He was quite the
best looking person the boy had seen in Sky Island and he spoke in a
pleasant way and seemed quite friendly. But the two-sided man had
overheard the remark and he now stepped forward and said, in a careless
tone:
"Never mind; it's no disgrace to be patched in a country ruled by such a
cruel Boolooroo as we have. Let the boy look at me, if he wants to; I'm
not pretty, but that's not my fault. Blame the Boolooroo."
"I--I'm glad to meet you, sir," stammered Button-Bright. "What is _your_
name, please?"
"I'm now named Jimfred Jonesjinks, and my partner is called Fredjim
Jinksjones. He's busy at present guarding the Treasure Chamber, but I'll
introduce you to him when he comes back. We've had the misfortune to be
patched, you know."
"What is being patched?" asked the boy.
"They cut two of us in halves and mismatch the halves--half of one to
half of the other, you know--and then the other two halves are patched
together. It destroys our individuality and makes us complex creatures,
so it's the worst punishment than can be inflicted in Sky Island."
"Oh," said Button-Bright, alarmed at such dreadful butchery; "doesn't it
hurt?"
"No; it doesn't hurt," replied Jimfred, "but it makes one frightfully
nervous. They stand you under a big knife, which drops and slices you
neatly in two--exactly in the middle. Then they match half of you to
another person who has likewise been sliced--and there you are, patched
to someone you don't care about and haven't much interest in. If your
half wants to do something, the other half is likely to want to do
something different, and the funny part of it is you don't quite know
which is your half and which is the other half. It's a terrible
punishment, and in a country where one can't die or be killed until he
has lived his six hundred years, to be patched is a great misfortune."
"I'm sure it is," said Button-Bright, earnestly. "But can't you ever
get--get--_un_-patched again?"
"If the Boolooroo would consent, I think it could be done," Jimfred
replied; "but he never will consent. This is about the meanest Boolooroo
who ever ruled this land, and he was the first to invent patching people
as a punishment. I think we will all be glad when his three hundred
years of rule are ended."
"When will that be?" inquired the boy.
"Hush-sh-sh!" cried everyone, in a chorus, and they all looked over
their shoulders as if frightened by the question. The officer with the
blue-gold chain pulled Button-Bright's sleeve and whispered:
"Follow me, please." And then he beckoned to Cap'n Bill and led the two
slaves to another room, where they were alone.
"I must instruct you in your duties," said he, when they were all
comfortably seated in cosy chairs with blue cushions. "You must learn
how to obey the Boolooroo's commands, so he won't become angry and have
you patched."
"How could he patch _us_?" asked the sailorman, curiously.
"Oh, he'd just slice you all in halves and then patch half of the boy to
half of the girl, and the other half to half of you, and the other half
of you to the other half of the girl. See?"
"Can't say I do," said Cap'n Bill, much bewildered. "It's a reg'lar
mix-up."
"That's what it's meant to be," explained the young officer.
"An' seein' as we're Earth folks, an' not natives of Sky Island, I've an
idea the slicing machine would about end us, without bein' patched,"
continued the sailor.
"Oh," said Button-Bright; "so it would."
"While you are in this country you can't die till you've lived six
hundred years," declared the officer.
"Oh," said Button-Bright; "that's different, of course. But who are you,
please?"
"My name is Ghip-Ghi-siz-zle. Can you remember it?"
"I can 'member the 'sizzle,'" said the boy; "but I'm 'fraid the
Gwip--Grip--Glip----"
"Ghip-Ghi-siz-zle," repeated the officer, slowly. "I want you to
remember my name, because if you are going to live here you are sure to
hear of me a great many times. Can you keep a secret?"
"I can try," said Button-Bright.
"I've kep' secrets--once in a while," asserted Cap'n Bill.
"Well, try to keep this one. I'm to be the next Boolooroo of Sky
Island."
"Good for you!" cried the sailor. "I wish you was the Boolooroo now,
sir. But it seems you' ve got to wait a hundred years or more afore you
can take his place."
Ghip-Ghisizzle rose to his feet and paced up and down the room for a
time, a frown upon his blue face. Then he halted and faced Cap'n Bill.
"Sir," said he, "there lies all my trouble. I'm quite sure the present
Boolooroo has reigned three hundred years next Thursday; but he claims
it is only two hundred years, and as he holds the Royal Book of Records
under lock and key in the Royal Treasury, there is no way for us to
prove he is wrong."
"Oh," said Button-Bright. "How old is the Boolooroo?"
"He was two hundred years old when he was elected," replied
Ghip-Ghisizzle. "If he has already reigned three hundred years, as I
suspect, then he is now five hundred years old. You see, he is trying to
steal another hundred years of rule, so as to remain a tyrant all his
life."
"He don't seem as old as that," observed Cap'n Bill, thoughtfully. "Why,
I'm only sixty, myself, an' I guess I look twice as old as your king
does."
"We do not show our age in looks," the officer answered. "I am just
about your own age, sir--sixty-two my next birth-day--but I'm sure I
don't look as old as you."
"That's a fact," agreed Cap'n Bill. Then he turned to Button-Bright and
added: "Don't that prove Sky Island is a fairy country, as I said?"
"Oh, I've known that all along," said the boy. "The slicing and
patching proves it, and so do lots of other things."
"Now, then," said Ghip-Ghisizzle, "let us talk over your duties. It
seems you must mix the royal nectar, Cap'n Bill. Do you know how to do
that?"
"I'm free to say as I don't, friend Sizzle."
"The Boolooroo is very particular about his nectar. I think he has given
you this job so he can find fault with you and have you punished. But we
will fool him. You are strangers here, and I don't want you imposed
upon. I'll send Tiggle to the royal pantry and keep him there to mix the
nectar. Then when the Boolooroo, or the Queen, or any of the Snubnosed
Princesses call for a drink, you can carry it to them and it will be
sure to suit them."
"Thank'e, sir," said Cap'n Bill; "that's real kind of you."
"Your job, Button-Bright, is easier," continued Ghip-Ghisizzle.
"I'm no bootblack," declared the boy. "The Boolooroo has no right to
make me do his dirty work."
"You're a slave," the officer reminded him; "and a slave must obey."
"Why?" asked Button-Bright.
"Because he can't help himself. No slave ever wants to obey, but he just
has to. And it isn't dirty work at all. You don't black the royal boots
and shoes; you merely blue them with a finely perfumed blue paste. Then
you shine them neatly and your task is done. You will not be humiliated
by becoming a bootblack. You'll be a bootblue."
"Oh," said Button-Bright. "I don't see much difference, but perhaps it's
a little more respectable."
"Yes; the Royal Bootblue is considered a high official in Sky Island.
You do your work at evening or early morning, and the rest of the day
you are at liberty to do as you please."
"It won't last long, Button-Bright," said Cap'n Bill, consolingly.
"Somethin's bound to happen pretty soon, you know."
"I think so myself," answered the boy.
"And now," remarked Ghip-Ghisizzle, "since you understand your new
duties, perhaps you'd like to walk out with me and see the Blue City and
the glorious Blue Country of Sky Island."
"We would that!" cried Cap'n Bill, promptly.
So they accompanied their new friend through a maze of passages--for the
palace was very big--and then through a high arched portal into the
streets of the City. So rapid had been their descent when the umbrella
landed them in the royal garden that they had not even caught a glimpse
of the Blue City, so now they gazed with wonder and interest at the
splendid sights that met their eyes.
[Illustration]
THE BLUE CITY