For three days, the wedding was the big thing on everyone’s mind. For three days, we cooked and baked, decorated and rehearsed, and I tried with all my might to keep Yipes from worrying himself to death. He was calm when under certain kinds of pressure—battling ogres or giant sea monsters—but put him within a day of his own wedding and he was a nervous wreck.
We were all so happy when the moment finally arrived. It was night on the third stone pillar. Glowing lamps dangled overhead in the crisscrossing vines, and beyond those were smaller dots—the stars of a clear night. Some of the lamps glowed white, others soft green, and there was magic in the air around us. The village of small homes overgrown with moss and tiny blooming flowers had been transformed into an even greater place of wonder. A long pathway was adorned with glowing emerald patterns of circles and stars. Daisies were in bloom everywhere along the twisting way of passages. At the very end was the open commons where all the people waited, wearing celebratory ribbons. It was a trick getting Grump across from the second pillar to the third in one of the baskets, and even he was wearing a ribbon that dangled down his long nose, the end of which was billowing softly as he snored. Behind everyone there was a vast series of tables holding every kind of treat one could hope for. Candies and fruits, fizzy drinks and baked sweets, glazed yams and potatoes, and, right in the middle, a cake much taller than Yipes or Matilda.
Everyone from the stone pillars stood on either side of the pathway, waiting for Matilda to emerge. There were people four deep on either side—two hundred in all. And at the very end, before the tables of food, I stood with Marco and Yipes.
“Here she comes,” chirped Murphy, who sat twitching on my shoulder. He was holding a daisy in one front paw, spinning it around and around like it was a toy.
“What did he say?” said Yipes anxiously.
“He said you look marvelous,” I said. “Stop shaking.”
“You stop shaking.”
I hadn’t realized it, but looking at my hand in the glow of many candles, I saw that I, too, was trembling.
“There’s still time,” said Yipes, looking up at me with big round eyes. “We could make a run for it.”
“You should hold him by his shirt. He just might do it,” said Murphy.
I pointed toward an opening in the mossy path, down the long line of people, and Yipes turned without thinking. After that his eyes didn’t waver, not even for a second. Matilda walked toward him. She was dressed in a white lace dress with flowers all through her long hair. Ranger walked alongside her, obedient and quiet as I’d never seen him before. Between his teeth, he carried a wooden box—the rings—and I was struck once again by the strange collection of people Elyon chose to bring together. Two tiny people with hearts as big as thunder, a dog bearing rings, a squirrel for a best man, a boy and a girl—what nonsense! And yet I felt entirely at home, completely happy.
“Stay calm, Yipes,” chirped Murphy. “Don’t grab for the rings or trip over your own feet. Just take it slow.”
No one else understood what Murphy was saying and I whispered back, “Be quiet. Let him concentrate.”
She was something to look at, my Matilda. There had always been a little sadness in her—a loneliness, I suppose—but it was gone, and it was this more than anything that made me cry softly, for I knew my best friend had found a companion. He would still be my very dear friend, but they would have each other now. Things would never be the same.
The ceremony proceeded without delay, with only a few small hiccups along the way. Murphy sneezed four times in a row when Matilda was saying her vows, and Yipes had quite a time getting Ranger to let go of the box of rings. But soon Yipes and Matilda were kissing in the soft light of the third pillar, and the young night went from tranquil to exuberant. Flowers were thrown and food was eaten, followed by music and dancing and, best of all, skimming on the vines overhead.
Yipes had made a gift for Murphy—a tiny slider. There is nothing quite so funny as seeing a squirrel fly through the air, holding on to two knots and laughing out loud as it zooms down a long vine. I skimmed with Marco—back and forth over and over again—until my hands and shoulders ached. We walked together back to the village and the tables of food, and we talked about the next long journey we would soon take.
After a time, everyone gathered at the cake and Matilda threw the bouquet. It was heading right for Jonezy, but Ranger leaped into the air and caught it. When Ranger returned it to Matilda, she flung it low and fast and I couldn’t jump out of the way. I caught it, dropped it, then picked it up again.
“Maybe you’ll settle down one day after all,” said Marco.
“Don’t count on it,” I said, but something had stirred in me that made me wonder if he was right. We were young and free and we had important work to do, but somehow I could imagine the two of us old and gray, landing Stargazer in the Sly Field and walking together into the Tenth City.
“Come on, Alexa!” chirped Murphy. “You’ve got to try the landing at the top. It’s FAST!”
The fur on Murphy’s tail was puffed up so that it looked two times its normal size, and his eyes appeared to be glued wide open. He was also grinning from ear to ear.
“I thought we were going to do that one together!” I protested. “You cheated.”
Murphy sneezed twice and wiped his nose on his paw.
“Cake!”
Murphy made a beeline in the direction of the food.
“Are you ready for the highest platform?” asked Marco. It was really high and fast.
“Yes!” came a resounding cry from behind me. It was Yipes and Matilda, holding up their sliders and waiting for us to join them. Murphy came bounding back, his face covered in whipped cream, and Ranger was close behind him.
The six of us laughed and chattered all the way up the inside of the third stone pillar. Soon I was flying faster than I’d ever flown before, with lanterns bobbing all along the way and Murphy crying “Faster! Faster!” from where he sat on my shoulder.
There would be times in the years to come when he would accompany me back and forth between the two worlds I’d come to know. Other times, Yipes would venture out over the water, and even Matilda came along once. There were loads of clothes and seeds and jars of honey and other such things cramping our space, and children of every age moving between the pillars and The Land of Elyon. And always, always, there was Marco at the pedals, helping guide the way across the Lonely Sea.
I have yet to venture off the course that was set for me by Sir Alistair Wakefield, but I see certain things on the old maps that make me curious. Are there other places to explore, somewhere in the immeasurable reaches of the Lonely Sea? Maybe my own children or their children will find these strange spots on the map. My way is set as in stone, and I don’t feel the need to veer off any longer. It has taken many days of searching and fighting, but in the end I have found what I was looking for.
I have found my way home.
Copyright
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This book was originally published in hardcover by Scholastic Press in 2008.
Copyright © 2008 by Patrick Carman
Cover art © 2008 by John Shroades
Cover design by Steve Scott
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