the forgotten story of lily angof ➳ klaus baudelaire ( asoue )

nine ➳ a plan and a birdcage

"KLAUS," I SAID, tapping his shoulder intensely. "Klaus."

"Hmm?" he replied.

"Klaus, I found something."

He shot straight up, eyes wide open. "What? What did you find?"

"I know what Olaf's doing." I pushed myself up and rushed toward the door.

"Lily! Lily, wait!"

He followed me quickly down the stairs, trailing multiple feet behind me. I heard him trip, and I swiveled around.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," he assured me, then continued down the stairs.

I ran into the dining room where I found Olaf perched at the head chair, hands folded and eyes staring the both of us down. Klaus finally caught up, and he nearly ran into me as he slid to a stop behind my shoulder.

"Well hello there, children. Finally, you woke up. I had some tea, though I couldn't seem to find the sugar bowl. I need you two and your wretched siblings to make me some breakfast before-"

"We know your plan," I interrupted.

He raised his eyebrow and leaned forward. "And what is that you know?" he said through a smug smirk.

Klaus nudged my side with the book, so I took it and began to read. "'The only nuptial requirements are a statement of active acquiescence by both participants, utilizing in loco parentis if necessary, and the signing of an explanatory document in the bride's own hand.'"

Thank goodness for Klaus; he was always thinking of things, even when I was too caught up in the moment to remember them myself.

"So?" Count Olaf asked, nonchalantly sipping his tea.

"You're not planning to figuratively marry my sister, you're planning to do it literally!" Klaus had caught on.

"I am not!" he exclaimed. "Wait, wait a second." He sat back in his chair as if calculating something. "Literally? Is that... hm. Maybe that's figuratively."

I rolled my eyes. "Do you seriously not know the difference between figuratively and literally?"

"I do know the difference!" Olaf objected.

We didn't buy that. "Literally means that you're doing something for real. Figuratively means it's not actually happening, like in a play," said Klaus.

"Well, all we're doing is a play," Olaf said dismissively.

"Forget literally and figuratively!" I interrupted. "You're trying to marry Violet to get the Baudelaire fortune!"

"That's ridiculous!" he retaliated.

"Then explained this-" I flipped to another page I had marked "'A legal husband has titular and practical control over any relevant fiduciaries, resulting in financial dominion over any spousal holdings.'"

"I don't think a child your age should be saying the word titular," he snorted.

I made a disgusted face at him and moved on. "I know you think that your plan is foolproof, but it's not. It's not going to work."

"Oh? How?" he asked, amused.

I read from another page, "'A perspective spouse must be chronologically sound and appropriate in regards to the age of consent according to prevailing community standards.'"

"Violet isn't old enough to get married," commented Klaus.

"Then answer me this: What language is spoken by arrogant, pretentious people and the Ancient Greeks?"

"Latin," Klaus and I said simultaneously.

"And would either of you care to translate the Latin phrase in loco parentis?"

"Acting in the role of a parent," whispered Klaus.

"So, you two bookish little children seem to have missed that I, Violet's guardian, not only consent to her marriage, but demand it, and that means she is legally allowed to get married."

"You're disgusting," I spat.

"Hmmm, and you seemed to have missed something else as well," Olaf teased.

What had we missed? He had to be lying. I turned to Klaus, but the look on his face told me he was not lying.

"You want to marry Lily, too," he said.

"Bingo!"

"But how is that possible?" I looked back and forth between the two of them. "How can you marry two people at once?"

Olaf was smiling, seemingly amused at having tricked me.

However, I could see the wheels turning inside Klaus' brain. "You marry Violet in part one of the play and then take our fortune. Then you divorce her and marry Lily the next week to take her family's fortune."

"And that, children, is what we call in the theatre, a double whammy," he said, pleased with himself.

"But there's no way you can get divorced and remarried that quickly!" I replied in a lame attempt to find a flaw in his plan.

"Oh, I have my ways," he said deviously. "I will succeed, and before you know it, both of your family's fortunes will be all mine."

I searched frantically for a logical way out of this problem, but I saw nothing. I grabbed Klaus' arm. "Let's go, Klaus."

He stayed put. "No, you won't succeed! We'll tell Mr. Poe about your plan, and instead of our fortunes, all you'll get is jail!"

Klaus grabbed my hand and lead us swiftly out the door and up the stairs. Olaf followed into the entrance hall where he announced something to his theatre troupe, "The orphans have figured out our master plan," he stated dramatically. "Oh, what will we do?"

Violet met us halfway up the stairs, and Klaus explained everything to her, "Olaf is trying to marry you and Lily for real. It's all a plan to steal our fortunes."

She took in the information and processed it at lightning speed. "I knew there was something fishy here. Quick, let's go get Sunny and get out of this awful place."

We ran into the attic and found it completely empty.

"Where's Sunny?" I asked, terrified for the answer. We searched frantically around the room, but we found nothing.

"What an easy place this is for a baby to get lost in," said Olaf, suddenly appearing in the doorway. "Here Sunny, Sunny. Come here, girl," he called and whistled for her as if she were a dog. Suddenly, he stopped and held a hand to his ear. "Do you hear that? I think it's coming from... outside."

We raced to the backyard and once again searched for Sunny. I was sick of Olaf's twisted game of hide-and-seek.

"For children who read so much, you don't seem to be very smart."

"You're horrible," said Violet. "What you're doing is horrible."

"Horrible?" Olaf repeated. "I think that's a bit of an exaggeration. Personally, I think things are looking up, up, up."

He tilted his head back, and I followed his eyes slowly, scared for what I'd find.

There, suspended far above the ground, was a cage, and inside that cage was Sunny Baudelaire, trapped, alone, and crying helplessly.