Return of the Forgotten

by Lisa Fiedler

  Zucker clenched his fists, snarled, and said nothing.

  “He knew the minute you heard that Pup had kidnapped Hope, you’d send every soldier and servant out to find them, leaving the palace virtually unprotected and making it simple for him to take the royal heirs hostage. He said he knew exactly where he would hold them captive. He was crazed! All I could do was lie there, listening, holding my breath so he wouldn’t know I was alive. He was out of his mind with fury, going on and on and on about . . . well, I don’t know what! Half of it didn’t make sense—he was muttering about something silver . . . and his sisters . . . and skylights, of all things. I thought he’d gone off the deep end, until he started raging about . . .” She paused to nod at Firren. “About you, Your Majesty.”

  “Me?” said Firren. “What could he possibly have said about me?”

  “He said if it weren’t for you, he would be a prince himself, reigning from a splendid and magnificent place called . . .” She paused again, trying to remember. “What did he call it? City Hall station.”

  “City Hall?” Firren lowered her weapon and swallowed hard. “Are you sure that’s what he said?”

  “I’m positive. He said his father’s dream was wasted, and his family suffered, thanks to you. He said you were a selfish, useless coward. And he talked about the hunting ground. He said something about meeting you there.”

  “A duel, is it?” seethed Zucker. “Well, that’s just fine by me. If this nut job wants to arrange a meeting at the old hunting ground, I’m all for it. I doubt he’ll think Firren’s a useless coward when he finds himself with her sword aimed at his heart.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Hopper. “Wyona, did Devon mean Titus’s hunting ground?”

  “I assume so,” said Wyona with a shrug.

  “But there is no more hunting ground.”

  “Hopper’s right,” said Dodger, turning to Firren. “You had the soldiers destroy it. So how can this madmouse expect to meet you at a place that no longer exists?”

  Firren let out a long, ragged breath. “Because he’s not talking about meeting me at the hunting ground now. He’s talking about having already met me there. Before.”

  “You mean during the battle to liberate the camps?” Hopper guessed. “When Pinkie led the Mūs army and I found Pup and hid him in . . .” He let his words trail off; now was definitely not the time to mention the silver cup where Firren had hid as a pup, the cup that had saved her life, protecting her while she watched her parents disappear forever.

  “No, Chosen One,” said Firren. “Devon wasn’t present to fight that battle. I’m talking about my first trip to the hunting ground, a long time ago.”

  “What are you saying?” asked Zucker.

  “I’m saying,” said Firren, her voice a raspy whisper, “that I suddenly remember where I’ve seen Devon before.”

  “Where?” Hopper ventured softly.

  Firren closed her eyes, as if she could see it clearly in her mind. “Right beside me in that damned silver cup,” she answered softly, “where together we watched our families die.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  IT WAS DIFFICULT TO ADMIT it all to Ace. Saying it out loud—to a friend of Hopper’s, no less—made Pup burn with guilt all over again. And with Princess Hope interrupting every few seconds, sweetly and loyally pleading his case, it took twice as long to explain.

  But in the end, Ace understood. He believed that Pup had been, for lack of a better term, rehabilitated and that his motivations for turning himself in to Emperor Zucker and the Chosen One were pure.

  “I’ll have to go to Atlantia alone, first,” Ace decided. “It’s not safe for you to go back until I’ve had a chance to clear your name. I’ll find Hopper and tell him everything. Then we’ll send for you and you can return home to the tunnels. Or maybe Hopper will come up here and escort you back himself.”

  “You really think he’ll be willing to come get me?” said Pup.

  “Of course,” said Ace, grinning. “And besides, I happen to know there’s someone not too far from here who’s been very anxious to see him.”

  “Carroll!” Hope cried. “Right?”

  Ace nodded. “She’s missed him.”

  “Oh, he’s missed her too. He’s missed her like crazy. He talks about her all the time.”

  Ace laughed. “She’ll be glad to hear it. Make sure you tell her.”

  “Me?” Hope smiled. “I’m going to meet her?”

  “Absolutely. I can’t leave you two tiny . . .” Ace shot Pup a quick glance and cleared his throat. “I mean, you two brave tunnel dwellers all alone up here to fend for yourselves while I’m gone, can I?”

  Pup was grateful for the cat’s sensitivity, but the truth was, he’d moved beyond those petty insecurities regarding his diminutive stature. He was small. He could live with it.

  “So does this mean you’re taking us to the grasslands?” asked Hope, bouncing excitedly on her hind legs, tugging happily on the silky black tail that had once saved her beloved godfather’s life.

  “I am!”

  “Yippppeee!”

  Ace smiled at Hope’s enthusiasm. “Right after I finish my shift here at the museum, I’ll bring you to the park. I’ve still got some rounds to make, but you two are free to roam around and enjoy the exhibits as my guests. It’s a pretty interesting place.”

  Pup agreed. Seeing those rodents in that photograph had really ignited his imagination.

  For the next hour he and Hope explored the museum. Her ability to read was hugely helpful. At one point they had to duck out of the path of a group of schoolchildren who were being led by a tour guide. Pup had to giggle; he was reasonably sure she was the one who had the weakness for meatball grinders, judging by the splotch of marinara sauce on the front of her blouse.

  “And now, boys and girls,” the guide was saying, “I’m going to let you all in on a very big secret. The secret of . . . City Hall.”

  At the sound of these words, Pup’s ears pricked up. Devon, that vicious turncoat, had used that very same phrase . . . twice. Pup remembered, because there was something about the way he had said it that made him wonder if there was more to it than the villain had let on.

  Now this meatball-loving tour guide was talking about it being some kind of “big secret.”

  Pup motioned to Hope to keep quiet, and together they crept along after the group, listening.

  “The City Hall station,” the guide explained, “was a subway station, just across the river in Manhattan.”

  “What’s Manhattan?” Pup asked Hope.

  “I think it’s an island not far from Brooklyn.” Before he could ask, Hope added, “ ‘Island’ means ‘surrounded by water.’ ”

  Pup grinned. “Thanks.”

  “It was built by the Interborough Rapid Transit Company,” the guide went on, “and it opened a long time ago, at the turn of the century.”

  “You mean Y2K?” one of the children asked.

  The tour guide smiled and shook her head. “The century before that,” she said. “In the year 1904.”

  The children appeared to be very impressed by this.

  “City Hall station was originally going to be the southern terminus of the first Manhattan Main Line. And it was truly the pièce de résistance of this marvelous feat of engineering known as the subway system. While the other stops were more utilitarian in design . . .”

  Pup glanced at Hope for clarification.

  “Useful but ordinary,” she translated. “Practical.”

  “City Hall looked more like the lobby of some grand hotel or perhaps even a royal palace. It was built on a curve, and had shiny brass fixtures, even skylights.”

  “I ride the subway all the time,” said a little girl. “How come I’ve never seen this beautiful station?”

  The guide’s eyes lit up and she smiled at the girl. “That’s the secret! Sadly, the City Hall station was not functional for very long. It closed on December 31, 1945.”

  The ch
ildren seemed disappointed to hear this. Pup felt a bit sad about it himself. It sounded like a beautiful place. So why would such a scoundrel as Devon know about it? He killed three Mūs soldiers in cold blood; he certainly didn’t strike Pup as the sort who bothered himself with architectural marvels.

  Suddenly Pup’s imagination was churning again. If this were the same “City Hall” the villainous soldier had been hinting about, he must have been doing it for a reason. This place meant something to Dev. Could City Hall be his hideout? Perhaps it was his lair—in Pup’s experience, all menacing creatures had one, Felina being the most glaring example, and then, of course, there was his own stint in the wingtip. Maybe this old City Hall station was the place Dev went to brood and scheme and devise sickening plots to murder his comrades and take down benevolent monarchies. It certainly had all the qualifications of being a lair. It was both luxurious and abandoned. And, as the guide had said, it was a secret.

  So maybe Dev was hiding there, nursing the bite wound Pup had inflicted on him and cursing Pup right now!

  If Pup could sneak up and capture him, it would go a long way toward making Hopper proud of him again. Bringing in the monster who planned to overthrow Atlantia would certainly make up for all the trouble he himself had caused . . . when he’d attempted to do the same thing.

  The thought of having something in common with the diabolical Dev made Pup squirm. But Hopper would surely forgive Pup for all of it, if only he could catch the wicked traitor and bring him to justice.

  “Come with me,” he whispered to Hope. “There’s something I saw on the wall that I want to look at a little more closely. And I need your help.”

  “Okay,” said Hope. “With what?”

  Pup grinned. “How are you at reading maps?”

  He made Hope promise to say nothing to Ace about his plan to find the City Hall station. The princess wasn’t exactly comfortable with that, but when he pointed out the importance of the mission, she consented.

  “On one condition.”

  Pup gave her a wary look.

  “I get to come with you.”

  “Absolutely not,” said Pup, waving his paws and shaking his head. “Uh-uh. No way. Not happening.”

  She gave him a pout. “Why not?”

  “Because it’s dangerous. You could get hurt.”

  “So could you.”

  “But I promised to protect you.”

  “And for that, I am thankful,” she said, dipping a polite curtsy. “But why can’t I protect you right back? I’m the spy in our little duo, remember?”

  “Yes, I do remember,” said Pup, placing a brotherly paw on the tiny rat’s shoulder. “And for that, I am thankful. But if anything ever happened to you, I’d be distraught. In fact . . .” He sighed heavily. “In fact, since we’ve become a duo, as you call it, I’ve finally come to understand what Hopper and Pinkie were feeling all those times they told me they had to watch out for me, or that I was too small to do something on my own. What they really meant was that I was too precious. To them.”

  “So . . .” Hope gave him a knowing smile. “Are you saying that I’m precious to you?”

  “I would defend you with my life,” Pup vowed. “For you are my friend.”

  “And I am honored,” said Hope, pausing to straighten her tiara. “But I’m still going.”

  “Going where?”

  Both rodents jumped when Ace padded up behind them, his tail swishing.

  “To the grasslands,” Hope said quickly. “Now that you’re done working, that is.”

  “Okay. Everybody ready?” asked Ace.

  Hope checked to be sure she still had her scrap of Hopper’s patchwork quilt wrapped safely around her middle. “Ready!”

  Ace lowered his shoulder so they could climb onto his sleek back, and they set out onto the sidewalks of Brooklyn.

  “Uncle Hopper told me the grasslands were snowy and cold,” said Hope. “Will they be like that when we get there?”

  “Not today,” said Ace. “The seasons have changed since Hopper visited us. It’s spring now. The grasslands will be bright and warm and sunny.”

  “What’s spring?” asked Pup.

  “Spring is when things begin anew. It’s a happy, hopeful time when the whole world gets a chance to start fresh.”

  Pup smiled. Starting fresh was exactly what he had in mind.

  Hope knew all the grassland residents by sight. She’d made Hopper tell her his upland story so many times, and in such minute detail, she was able to pick out Valky and the basketball rats (who still lived at the Barclays, but had come out on this beautiful day for a picnic in the park) and, of course, Carroll without Ace even having to tell her their names.

  Hope remembered her manners and presented Pup to each of them as though he were royalty himself.

  “Last we heard, you were causing trouble down there in the tunnels,” Valky observed, taking a cautious step back from the Chosen One’s now infamous little brother.

  “I was,” said Pup, flushing with embarrassment. “But I’ve changed.” He gave the chipmunk a sheepish grin. “It’s spring.”

  The upland rodent, who knew the magic and the power of the seasons, understood perfectly. “Glad to hear it,” he said. “And welcome.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you,” said Carroll, shaking Pup’s paw warmly. “I know how much your brother cares for you, and I’m sure you’ll be able to work things out.”

  Pup could only nod. He had never seen anyone like this lovely, pink-eyed, white-furred mouse. Her face was filled with kindness and intelligence. No wonder Hopper adored her.

  Ace explained to the grasslanders that the two tunnel rodents were going to stay for a bit, while Ace would venture down to the tunnels to tell Hopper all about Pup’s new outlook, and to warn him about Dev’s betrayal. He smiled at Carroll and added, “I’m hoping to bring our little Chosen friend back up with me. You two are long overdue for a visit.”

  “I agree,” said Carroll. “But I have a better idea. I’ll come with you.”

  “To the tunnels?” Ace sounded surprised. “It’s dangerous.”

  Carroll rolled her pretty pink eyes. “Please, Ace. With your help, I escaped from a laboratory where they performed scientific experiments on mice like me. I’m okay with danger.”

  When Ace and Carroll were gone, Pup turned to Valky. “I was wondering,” he said in his most casual tone, “if you could possibly lead me to the East River.”

  “Ah,” said Valky. “In the mood for a little sightseeing, are you?”

  Pup nodded. “Yes. Yes I am.”

  “Then follow me.”

  Pup and Hope exchanged glances, then followed the chipmunk as he loped across the broad expanse of fresh, green grass. When they reached the edge of the park, they both drew in their breath at the strange sight before them.

  “There she is,” Valky announced, beaming. “Our river.”

  Water. And lots of it. Blue and choppy and very deep. The springtime sun glistened on its surface, putting Pup in mind of a subway train lighting a dark tunnel, only far more beautiful. On the far side was a toothy skyline of glass, brick, and steel buildings.

  Manhattan, Pup surmised. Just as the map in the museum had promised.

  “Thank you for guiding us here, Valky,” said Hope politely. “If you don’t mind, we’re just going to admire the river for a while. It’s very relaxing and we’ve had quite a long journey.”

  “Take your time,” said Valky. “I’ll come back for you later. Mind the humans and keep your eyes peeled for felines.” The chipmunk chuckled. “Although, since Hopper showed a few of our nastiest strays who’s boss, we don’t have much trouble with cats anymore.”

  He gave a quick bow, then scurried on his way.

  When Valky was gone, Hope turned to Pup. “Okay,” she said. “So we’ve found the East River.”

  Pup nodded. “Indeed we have.”

  “Now all we have to do is find the fairy.”

  According to the
princess, fairies were tiny, winged creatures with glittering hair and magical powers, who existed for the sole purpose of entertaining human children.

  “Are you sure about that?” asked Pup doubtfully. “That doesn’t seem like the sort of thing a human would put on a map.”

  “Pup,” said Hope, rolling her eyes. “It was the transit museum. As in transportation. And what better way to be transported across a big, wet river than by having an East River fairy fly you there?”

  “How do you know all this stuff about fairies anyway?”

  “I’ve seen pictures of them from a human book. Go-go found some torn-out pages fluttering over Atlantia and brought them home for me.” At the mention of her eldest sister, Hope’s lower lip quivered. “I guess she wasn’t always mean to me. Sometimes she could be very sweet.”

  “And these pages,” Pup went on, “they talked specifically about the East River fairy?”

  “Well, no,” Hope admitted. “Not exactly. The fairy in the book was called Stinkersmell, or Blinkerwell, or something like that. But I’m sure the East River fairy is very similar.” She went on to give him a quick description of the drawings in the book.

  Pup tried to picture himself clinging to a pair of gossamer wings while strands of shimmering fairy hair whipped in his face.

  “I hope you’re right,” said Pup.

  But she wasn’t. Not even close. They discovered this when they saw an enormous sign reading EAST RIVER FERRY TERMINAL. And it was nothing like the sparkly little being Hope had described. This ferry was an gigantic buoyant conveyance, stocky in shape with a double-decker design. And it didn’t fly; it floated on top of the water.

  “So much for tiny winged creatures,” Pup joked.

  Hope glared at him. “How was I supposed to know that a ‘fairy’ was something entirely different from a ‘ferry’? When I read the map, I thought it was a spelling error.”

  “Oh, I’m just teasing you,” said Pup. “Look at all the other things you’ve been right about.”