by LL Helland
Trisha came to the bedroom that she had occupied at one time. She turned the knob and looked in. The room was empty, so she continued down the hallway. Behind the third door on the left, she found Godfrey’s new bride, so thin and pale that Trisha did not see her in the bed at first. Trisha’s eye had been caught by the bedcovers, which were turned down, and the decorative pillows placed on a nearby chair. The woman’s complexion and colorless hair blended right in with the sheets. Trisha pulled the covers back. The girl’s chest rose and fell, so she still lived. This young woman looked as close to death as she could without actually being dead.
Trisha heard footsteps coming from outside the door. She knew the girls would walk silently, so it must be Godfrey.
Advarika made it under the bed first, and Trisha followed as quickly as she could. The door swung open.
Godfrey said, “I believe it’s time to end your life, my dear. I’ll put you out of your misery.” Then Godfrey saw the covers pulled down. My wife was too weak to have done this, he thought. Godfrey did not know who, but with very few places to hide, he would soon find the intruder.
He walked over to the armoire and, for just a moment, glanced at the mirror on the door. He liked what he saw. “Believe I look ten years younger.” He really did not expect to find anyone in the armoire. Almost empty, it held only a few dresses. He closed the door and knelt down beside the bed. Trisha’s heart pounded out of her chest. She could feel Advarika’s chest also, and she thought for sure that Godfrey could feel the floor vibrating to the beat of their hearts. As Godfrey leaned over and looked under the bed, Trisha felt her heart stop.
In one quick instant, Godfrey saw Trisha and grabbed her. He pulled her out from under the bed with a jerk, twisting her wrist. Trisha clawed and hit Godfrey with her free hand, but he held on to her wrist, squeezing it even tighter. The two of them landed on the floor, with Advarika on top of Godfrey, doing his best to inflict pain. When they hit the floor, the brooch fell out of Trisha’s hand and landed a few feet away from her. As Trisha struggled to inch her way toward the brooch so she could pin it to Godfrey, someone walked into the room.
This person did not float like Mrs. Toddles; she just walked in and picked up the brooch. Trisha stopped fighting with Godfrey, though Advarika continued hitting and biting him, oblivious. Her vision clear now, Trisha recognized Bailey. Was Bailey there to help Trisha or Godfrey? Bailey knelt down beside Godfrey, brooch in hand. Trisha feared that she and the other girls would be put back in the tomb forever. Everything moved in slow motion.
Bailey pinned the brooch on Godfrey. Trisha took a deep breath. The room glowed bright green and spun. Advarika scrambled over to Trisha and hung on tight.
When the spinning stopped, Trisha found herself alone in the same beautiful bedroom, wearing a silk dress. She no longer wore the brooch, and Advarika was nowhere to be found. Trisha missed him dreadfully. She would have to find out what happened to him, but right now she heard someone calling her name.
A soft voice called, “Trisha, where are you?” The owner of the voice knocked and came in. “I thought maybe you had gotten lost. Godfrey and his intended are downstairs.”
Trisha knew this girl—she had been in the bed, thin, pale and weak, just a few moments before. Godfrey had planned to suck the last bit of life out of her, but now she looked healthy and happy.
“Trisha, are you all right? You look ill. Should I get Godfrey?”
Trisha almost yelled, “No!”
The girl gasped, pointing to a wedding dress hanging in the corner. “Is that beautiful dress the one Godfrey’s bride will wear?”
Trisha recognized the dress. She had first seen it in the chapel at her great-grandmother’s house.
Trisha’s voice quivered. “Am I Godfrey’s intended?”
“No, silly. Are you sure you feel well?” The girl linked arms with Trisha. “Come, now. The party will be fun, and you look lovely.”
Trisha looked at herself in the armoire mirror—the same one that Godfrey had admired himself in earlier. Trisha wondered how she came to be in this dress, a light pink silk one with matching shoes. Her hair was twisted up in an elaborate arrangement, with just a few ringlets coming down past her shoulders. Arm in arm, the two girls walked out of the room, toward the laughter coming from the first floor.
Trisha’s companion said, “Godfrey is so anxious for you to meet his bride-to-be. He respects your opinion, especially since he hasn’t known her for very long.”
Trisha, still believing herself in some horrible adventure, thought that it would all play out in front of her again. As they descended the stairs and started down the long hallway, Trisha noticed the woman with the brooch, back in the portrait—without her brooch, but with a raccoon sitting in her lap. Trisha had to laugh. The raccoon was Advarika.
Her companion noticed Trisha’s amusement. “The story goes that Godfrey’s great-great-great aunt, Mrs. Toddles, loved a raccoon and treated it like her child. She had found the abandoned raccoon when it was a baby, and since she had no children of her own, she treated the furry little creature as family. She took him everywhere with her, until he finally died of old age. Legend says that she was never the same after her beloved Advarika died.”
A tear rolled down Trisha’s cheek. She could see how Mrs. Toddles could love him like a child. He was a very loving and protective friend. Trisha kissed her fingers, then reached up and placed the kiss on Advarika’s cheek. The laughter grew louder, and the girl escorting Trisha did not want to miss the festivities. They entered the room.
At the center of everyone’s attention, Bailey and Godfrey stood arm in arm, smiling and having a good time. Despite the roomful of people, Godfrey noticed when Trisha came into the room. He immediately excused himself from Bailey and greeted Trisha, now standing alone.
“My dear Trisha, I want you to meet my fiancée, Bailey Carrington. I know the two of you will like each other.”
At first, Trisha had to force herself not to pull away from Godfrey’s hand, but he was different. His eyes no longer looked dark and empty as they had before. His touch was gentle as he guided her elegantly and gracefully through the other guests. As Godfrey introduced her to Bailey, he released her hand, and Trisha felt her wrist throbbing—the same wrist that Godfrey had twisted when he had pulled her out from under the bed.
Bailey said, “Trisha, I have heard so much about you. After the way Godfrey speaks of you, I’m surprised that he asked for my hand in marriage and not yours. I want you to meet my parents and my younger brother.”
Bailey led Trisha to another group. Trisha could only stare.
Chad, all dressed up, squirmed in his mother’s arms. He wanted to get down and play with his colored stones and his top. Trisha talked quietly to him for a few minutes, and then she slowly walked away.
Chad ran after Trisha, holding out one of the stones. “You may need this sometime.”
Trisha thanked him. When he ran off to his mother, she gazed around the room full of well-dressed people—and empty of oversized jars filled with dirt and skeletons. She wondered how much of her recent adventure she had dreamed.
Bailey broke Trisha’s thoughts, smiling graciously as she approached. “So, Trisha, you live in America?”
Trisha, caught unprepared, had no idea how to answer that simple question. She mumbled something vague, then excused herself from Bailey. Trisha did not know where she lived—Boston or Iverson, Scotland, or Oxford, England. She walked across the floor where the enormous jars had been on her last visit to this room. On the floor, in an alcove, she spied a small pile of dirt and part of a large round water stain.
Trisha rubbed her wrist and looked down at the floor. Godfrey came up behind her. “May I ask what you are thinking?”
Trisha stammered, “Nothing! I’m not thinking about anything.”
Godfrey smiled. “Well, Trisha, I didn’t bring my friend all the way from America just to say nothing about my fiancée.”
“I believe she is very courageous, a
nd I think you have chosen an excellent woman to become your wife.”
“You can tell this just by talking with her for a few moments?”
“Yes, Godfrey. She will make you very happy. There isn’t anything she wouldn’t do for you.”
“Trisha, if Bailey doesn’t object, may I have this dance?”
Trisha looked over at Bailey, deep in conversation with some other ladies, and she waved to them. Godfrey gently took Trisha’s hand, barely bothering her tender wrist, and they danced. They had a pleasant dance, but one was enough for Trisha. She danced the rest of the dances with other eligible men.
At the end of the night, she went to bed, exhausted, and fell into a deep sleep. Trisha dreamed about her siblings and wondered where they were and what they were doing. She had seen Brittany in that filthy hospital in London, but she hadn’t seen her brothers. Jon she did not worry about. He was quite capable of taking care of himself, but her younger brother, Chris, she wasn’t so sure.
CHAPTER 38
Chris had grown up a lot since this adventure started. Now he thought maybe nothing was funny. What was there to make jokes about? He was still in the freezer, frozen nearly into a giant ice cube. He had tried many knobs on that stupid watch his great-grandfather had given to him, but nothing worked. It was frozen just like he was.
The next day, Tompack came into the laboratory, looking for Chris. He could not find him anywhere. He was just going to leave when he spotted Chris’s lacrosse bag sitting by the freezer. Tompack went over to pick up the bag, thinking Chris must have left it behind. That was strange because Chris never went anywhere without his bag. As Tompack got closer to the freezer, he could see cold air coming from the small hole where the door handle belonged. The handle lay on the floor next to Chris’s lacrosse bag.
Thomas popped his head out of the bag. “What’s for breakfast?”
Tompack ignored the rat’s greed. “Have you seen Chris?”
Thomas yawned and stretched. “Haven’t seen him since last night, when he was working in the freezer.”
Tompack got a very sick feeling.
Bihydrant ran in. “Where is Chris? Let’s get his other lacrosse stick and play a game—I think I have enough players. Of course, whichever side has the giant Bundlebob will win, but we can switch off.”
Tompack did not hear a word Bihydrant said. He slowly pulled a chair over to the freezer window and looked inside. Chris sat there, frozen, with his knees curled up tight against his chest. Tompack yelled for Bihydrant to go get the professor. When Quill and Kaver saw Bihydrant springing out of the lab, they came running in to see what had happened.
It did not take Bihydrant long to bring Dr. Mend to the lab. “We must get Chris into the Sporbit,” the professor said.
As Bihydrant reached down to pick up Chris’s legs, Professor Mend said, “Wait! We have to do this right, or we could snap off a leg or arm, and then there would be no way to reconnect his limbs.”
Tompack instructed the others to lift Chris up in one smooth motion and not to drop him, while Professor Mend prepared the Sporbit. He did not know if this would work. He had only tried it on diseases, not extreme hypothermia. The Bundlebobs gently put Chris on the table, but he rocked back and forth since he had frozen with his back curved. Finally, they laid Chris on his side.
Professor Mend said, “Quickly, everyone out of the Sporbit.” As soon as they all scrambled out, he turned on his machine. He had to keep increasing the amount of power to the Sporbit. The lights flickered, and then everything was quiet. He could hear the Bundlebobs breathing. Inside the Sporbit, Chris’s limbs had uncurled, but he was still a whitish-gray color.
Professor Mend looked anguished. “There isn’t anything else we can do for Chris. I’m afraid we have all failed him.”
The Bundlebobs surrounded Chris as he lay flat on his back on the table, not breathing.
Their quiet moment was broken by a loud sound from above. Something was ripping off the roof of the laboratory.
The giant Bundlebob, the one who drooled, reached his hand in and picked up Chris. The giant Bundlebob still had the clips Chris had invented on his back. His green fur had already started to grow back in the area where the ropes had pulled his fur out. He felt enormous gratitude to Chris for his simple invention.
So, when he had heard that Chris was frozen, he had immediately dropped his passengers off. Now, he put his friend in the palm of his hand and covered him tightly with his other hand. He then put his lips to the small opening between his hands and blew warm, then hot.
It felt like Chris was in an oven, but he still could not move or talk. He wanted to tell the giant that he was being cooked alive, but nothing came out of his mouth. Then Chris thought it was raining, but it was not rain. Giant Bundlebob’s saliva covered him from head to toe.
How much can my body take? To go from frozen to baked to drowning all within a matter of a few minutes seems a bit much, thought Chris. He started coughing and spitting, his lungs burned, and his body felt like needles were sticking him. When he tried to bring his hand up to his face, his arm moved in slow motion. His skin had a mottled appearance to it, with pink and white areas alternating all over his body. The giant gently put Chris on the ground, allowing Professor Mend, Thomas, and the Bundlebobs in the lab to hover over him. The giant broke off one of his nails and dipped it in his ear, covering it with yellow jam.
He offered it to Chris, who managed to whisper, “Not really hungry at this time—maybe later.” Chris had forgotten what the Bundlebobs’ daily diet consisted of. What he would not do for an apple!
Meanwhile, Tompack was deep in thought. Was this the giant Bundlebob who had abandoned him and the other three behind the ice wall? Once Chris was feeling better, Tompack asked the giant, “Can I see the bottom of your foot.?”
The giant lifted his left foot. Kaver wanted to know why Tompack was asking the giant Bundlebob these questions. Tompack gestured for him to wait.
Tompack’s entire body shook, but he had to ask. “Now the other foot.”
The giant lifted his right foot, revealing a picture of a fish on his big toe. Quill almost fainted. This giant Bundlebob had left them to die, all because Bihydrant had cut through the forbidden ice pond and ate one of the talking fish. Quill ran and hid behind Tompack. The Bundlebobs wondered if the giant recognized them and whether he would send them back behind the wall.
Tompack asked the giant, “Do you know who we are?” He pointed to himself, Quill, Kaver, and Bihydrant, who was now trying to hide behind Chris. The giant nodded, then pointed to a vehicle coming in the distance. It progressed at a high rate of speed, seeming to float on air.
Chris thought this seemed strange to him—besides Professor Mend’s laboratory, he had not seen any signs of advanced physics here. The vehicle stopped just inches from Chris. It looked like a large fish. The mouth of the fish opened, and out walked a very small Bundlebob.
Tompack’s legs were shaking. The last time he had seen the king of the Bundlebobs, the king had sentenced the four Bundlebobs to exile behind the ice wall.
The king’s face showed no sign that he remembered the last meeting. He said, “Tompack, it’s good to see you, and your friends who were exiled. I never thought I would see you again.”
The king turned to Chris. “Thanks to you getting Tompack and the others through the ice wall, they will now have a second chance. Chris, I hope they have been treating you well?”
Chris looked at the Bundlebob a few feet away and said, “Besides being frozen to death a couple of times, I think I’m in pretty good shape.”
Bihydrant stepped forward. His voice trembled. “Your majesty, I would like to tell you something about the talking fish I was accused of killing and eating.”
The king sighed. “I know what you are going to say. You cut through the ice on the pond, but found the talking fish already dead. Because we didn’t find the dead fish in the pond, we thought you ate him, but, since then, one of the Bundlebobs found
a grave. We unearthed its contents; it was the talking fish that we accused you of eating.”
Tompack said, “Bihydrant had never explained the details of the incident that had exiled us. I just assumed Bihydrant was guilty.”
The king continued. “Each talking fish in that pond has a partner in the two-legged community, with whom he communicates. When a two-legged individual dies in their world, the fish also dies here, but stays in the pond. I, as the king, retrieve the dead fish and place them in the communal burial ground. When we caught Bihydrant that day, it seemed clear that he had eaten one of the fish.”
Bihydrant felt a little better now. “I found the fish dead and I thought I was doing the right thing by burying it.”
Tompack, relieved that his friend had not killed and eaten one of the talking fish, still had a question. “Why didn’t you send one of the giants to retrieve us from behind the ice wall when you found this out?”
The king looked tired. “Would you not have run from the giant? Especially one who put you behind the ice wall when you were exiled?”
None of the Bundlebobs answered. They would not have gone with the giant.
“That is why I sent Chris to you. He got you out from behind the great wall of ice, and here you are at home.”
Chris’s legs felt stiff from sitting. He stood up and stretched his arms high in the air. They could all hear his joints pop and crack.
The king said, “Chris, you have been through a lot, and you showed courage along the way. I would like to make you one of my chosen fish representatives.”
Chris was not sure he wanted to be a fish person. It did not sound like much of an honor. “What exactly would being a fish representative entail?”
“Very few have the privilege of being initiated into the fish association, but you will be introduced to the talking fish.”
Chris mumbled under his breath, “What could fish possibly say that was important?”
The king seemed not to hear Chris. “No matter how old you are or what circumstances you are in, you can always contact the fish for help. They will relay the message to another fish representative, whichever one is qualified to help you.”