The Strange Round Bird: Or the Poet, the King, and the Mysterious Men in Black

by Eden Unger Bowditch

  “But only a dog can hear it,” said Dr. Canto-Sagas.

  “Exactly,” said Noah. “It was not meant to be heard, only to trigger the explosion, to break the glass. I planned to blow the whistle, but Komar Romak did it for me. The box was in the room with the replica engine they were building. The explosion would have destroyed whatever was there.”

  “But you could have been trapped there,” said Miss Brett, mortified.

  “We had to risk it, but I knew they would make us leave and close the vault. They would likely not have discovered the explosion until they opened the vault again,” said Noah. “At the Khan il Khalili, they saw us running but just thought we were running away.”

  “Will there be further retribution?” asked Ariana, a bit sick in the stomach from the thought of a furious Komar Romak.

  “We believe, Ariana,” said Mr. Bell, “that Komar Romak may consider this to be the end of Il Magna. It may be viewed as as explosion from the power of the components too near one another. The engine is nothing without the key, the wings, and the element. This will, at least, give us time to build up our defenses against Komar Romak.”

  “So, what you’re saying,” said Noah, “is that we simply do not know what will happen with Komar Romak, but something will.”

  “Well, Master Canto-Sagas,” said Mr. Bell, “I suppose that is what I am saying.”

  “But why you, Noah?” Ariana bit her lip.

  “Komar Romak believed I was weak because…because I wanted to protect you,” said Noah. “But Komar Romak could never understand that love makes you strong.”

  Everyone in the room felt strong.

  “Well, what do we do now?” asked Wallace.

  “The time is upon us. The power has reached its apex,” said Mr. Bell. “It is time to let the strange round bird sing.”

  They walked in silence. Only their footsteps and the tinkle of Ralph’s collar made any noise. The poem kept running through their heads. “Strange round bird with three flat wings …”

  “It is amazing,” whispered Faye, squeezing Jasper’s arm. “We are going to get to see Il Magna.”

  “We’ll see what was created three hundred and fifty years ago,” said Jasper, “and what is recreated every generation and, for all we know, will continue to be forever. It is amazing.”

  They followed Mr. Bell through great doorways, down passageways, through rooms that led only to other rooms. They stopped in front of a great hearth. Ravens and knights were ornately carved in the rosewood mantelpiece with onyx ravens and mother-of-pearl details. Above the hearth was a painting of Suleiman.

  Mr. Bell caressed an onyx raven on the left inner corner of the mantle. A small wooden door opened and from there they could see seven carved birds. Mr. Bell moved those birds in a strange pattern. With several clicks of hidden latches, the mantelpiece opened to reveal a passageway.

  “What you will see,” he said, “is something so remarkable you will not believe your eyes. It is a power beyond man, beyond our understanding, yet it comes from man. It is for this, for those who have come before, for those who have sacrificed their lives, and for all who will come after, that each of you will carry, as a burden and a privilege, the silent truth.”

  They each knew exactly what he meant. It was theirs, this great weight, and they could never share it with anyone other than themselves. They each nodded in understanding.

  As they walked down the descending hall, they could all feel the electricity in the air.

  “Noah is doing it with his hair,” laughed Lucy, pointing to Noah’s hair standing on end.

  “You’re rather electric yourself, silly girl,” said Noah as Lucy’s plaits also seemed to rise on their own.

  There is certainly a force, thought Wallace, feeling his very skin tingle. And they hadn’t even got to the room. Imagine what would happen when the pieces that drove its real power all came together—the wings, the element, the key.

  There, at the end of the long descent, was a bright opening. It was a room about the size of the great hall of the castle. It was a laboratory. Along the walls were tables and burners and microscopes and more. There were great complex pipes and tubes. Some seemed ancient, others modern.

  In one corner was a group of soft chairs and sofas. In another corner was a large wooden table with chairs all around. There were large drawings and blueprints on the table. This was it. This was the secret laboratory, or one of them. But in the very center of the room, in the middle of everything…was Il Magna.

  Il Magna was a thing of strange beauty. It seemed to be a collection of gears and pipes and shining copper spheres.

  “It’s not very big,” said Lucy. “I expected it to be the biggest thing in the world.”

  “In many ways it is the biggest thing in the world,” said her father, looking at the thing. Jasper could see wonder shining in his father’s eyes.

  “‘Three are the wings’,” said Faye, stepping close. She and the other children looked at the three metal folds, or wings, hovering above the sphere. On the wings were strange cubes and prisms onto which a configuration of the two bracelets and the necklace would fit.

  “‘One is the key,’” said Wallace, pointing to the circle in the center of the mechanism that would fit his coin perfectly.

  “‘One is the element that clings to the three,’” said Lucy, pointing to a narrow space beneath the wings. Faye’s amulet would fit perfectly into this space.

  What was particularly interesting was the perfect aura of simple dust particles that floated in a large sphere away from it. It looked like a giant bubble of clear air surrounded by circling dust. The aura was much bigger than the thing itself.

  It was breathtaking. And the children could feel the power.

  “So this whole time you’ve been trying to dismantle it?” asked Jasper.

  “And put it back together,” said Dr. Gwendolyn Vigyanveta. “It must be done.”

  The electricity could be felt in the air, stronger and stronger. Wallace gave a yelp and pulled his hand from his pocket. The two Drs. Modest quickly slipped the bracelets from their children’s stinging wrists. Faye grabbed the amulet and pulled it from her neck. It fell to the floor, too hot to touch.

  Mr. Bell, already wearing thick leather gloves, picked up the amulet.

  “Are you going to put it on the engine?” she asked.

  “Miss Vigyanveta,” said Mr. Bell as he removed the coin from the pocket and the bracelets from the wrists, “you all know the song.”

  “Three are the wings, one is the key, one is the element that clings to the three …” said the five children.

  “But where is the …” Noah’s question died on his tongue as he saw his mother’s necklace in Mr. Bell’s hand. She held the final piece.

  “Who is going to set it into motion?” asked Wallace

  “I shall place the pieces together,” said Mr. Bell.

  “But Mr. Bell,” said Lucy, still rubbing her wrist, “are you a scientist, too?”

  “I am,” said Mr. Bell. “You see, when I told you my story, I began in 1833. It really began long before that. My grandmother, from whom my Egyptian mother descended—”

  “She was Persian,” said Lucy, who did remember everything.

  “Yes, she was,” said Mr. Bell, “and she came from a line of Persian or Ottoman royalty that leads directly back to Suleiman.”

  Mr. Bell was a direct descendant of Suleiman. He was more than a leader of the brothers in black. He was the leader of the brothers in black.

  The parents and Miss Brett were all dressed in their lab coats and were ready to work. Together they cranked and turned. The three copper folds were spread. The two bracelets locked into one another and, together with the necklace, fit into the folds to create—

  “Wings!” cried Lucy.

  Next, the coin was placed in the center, where it became the key that, when turned, allowed the entire engine to whir into position. The amulet then slipped into place, clinging to the wings as i
f it knew where to go. Il Magna suddenly began to shiver. It was not a screech of metal, and it was not a whine of steam. It sang.

  The strange round bird was alive.

  Words cannot adequately describe what began to happen in that room. This was something of beauty and danger and life and death and…

  The light around them seemed to shimmer with a magic that could only be born of science. The glimmering wings spread as the song seemed to fill the air with particulate sound. The very dust that floated near the engine shimmered and fell in sparkling splendor.

  “There is gold in the air,” said Lucy. It was the only thing anyone said for a long time.

  Dr. Banneker tapped his son on the shoulder and caught the attention of the other children. He picked up a lead paperweight from blueprints on the table and tossed it, deftly, into what might be considered the beak of the bird. The lead weight suddenly began to spin, faster and faster, until they could no longer see it. Then, all at once, it shot straight up and nearly came fluttering down, rolling to a stop at Wallace’s feet. It was steaming, but that was not all.

  “It’s gold,” said Wallace. No one could hear his voice above the din, but everyone knew what he had said.

  It was gold. Whatever currents and chemistry were happening in that engine, Il Magna had actually turned lead into gold. Wallace gulped. If it could turn lead into gold, then it could turn the world to dust as well.

  “It is not enough,” said Dr. Tobias Modest. “We must do more to satisfy the energy.”

  “What?” cried Jasper, but his words went unheard.

  Mr. Bell brought out a barrow of lead weights and what looked like cannonballs. These things had one purpose, though. They were bird food.

  Together, three of the scientists picked up the weights, one by one, and tossed them carefully into the gaping maw of the strange round bird. Dr. Banneker, Dr. Tobias Modest, and Ariana Canto-Sagas were the ones chosen for the task since they had the best aim. But the children were also allowed to try. Carefully.

  Wallace was nervous about steaming blocks of gold flying about the room, but he saw how the lead came down nowhere near them. And, oddly, the weights seemed to float down like feathers. With each block of lead, the bird’s singing became a bit softer, until it was almost cooing. Jasper looked at Lucy’s plaits. They were floating in the air, like everyone else’s hair.

  When the barrow was nearly empty, the electricity began to pulse tingling sparks through each body in the room. Wallace began to feel his heart pounding in worry against his chest. He pushed his glasses up onto his nose and asked, loudly, “How can we ever stop it?” It was clear that it could never be stopped and was “never to be touched,” as the song had said. How could they bring this to an end?

  Il Magna was now cooing gently. Mr. Bell nodded to Wallace, having heard the question. “This has always been one of the greatest dangers,” he said. “Feeding it both calms it and reinforces its power.”

  The element had become liquid, undulating until it came to rest, back in the shape of the amulet. They waited quite a while for it to cool. Mr. Bell stepped up and removed the amulet from its perch. With that, he turned the key back and removed Wallace’s coin. The three spreading wings fluttered to a stop and Mr. Bell removed them from the outstretched folds of copper. It was over.

  Later, as they sat in the salon, an essence of electricity still seemed to surround them all.

  “I still feel it,” said Wallace, noting the hair on his arm still standing.

  “It shall settle,” said Mr. Bell, sitting in a chair so large that the formidable yet diminutive man seemed to nearly disappear in the upholstery.

  Lucy jumped from her mother’s lap and scuttled over to Mr. Bell. “Mr. Bell?”

  “Yes, Miss Modest?” he said, a smile on his face.

  “Mr. Bell,” she repeated, looking down at her feet, then at her wrist, where her bracelet was once again secured, and appeared as innocent as it ever had. “Sir…is it over?”

  Mr. Bell looked at the little girl. Suddenly, the room was silent, awaiting word. Jasper felt himself move slightly towards Faye, and Faye moved slightly towards Jasper. It felt like eons before Mr. Bell cleared his throat.

  “Dear Miss Modest, and the other Young Inventors…do you feel that it is over?”

  This was the question. Did it feel like it was over? Jasper knew what the answer was.

  “It feels as if something is over, sir,” he offered.

  “And, indeed, Master Modest, something is over,” Mr. Bell tilted his head. “But, then again, there are so many things that have just begun.”

  “It means ‘rows,’ like the rows of three,” explained Noah. Sabi had brought the pieces and Noah was explaining the game to his friends.

  Miss Brett found comfort in holding a book. It was the book her mother had given her. It calmed her just to have it in hand. She sat on the bench next to Dr. Banneker. Everyone was quiet in the garden, not sure what to say. It had been a long day. They all sat, waiting to be called for tea.

  “What is that?” asked Dr. Banneker, peering over at the book.

  The other parents looked over.

  “It’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,” said Miss Brett. But she knew none of the adults, other than Ariana, had ever read the book to their children or, for that matter, had likely read it to themselves. And then, she smiled. “Shall I read to you?”

  “Oh, yes,” Lucy clapped her hands together. “Mummy, it is lovely having Miss Brett read. It really is something you must try.”

  With a laugh of pure pleasure, Miss Brett began:

  All in the golden afternoon

  Full leisurely we glide:

  For both our oars, with little skill,

  By little arms are plied,

  While little hands make vain pretense

  Our wanderings to guide…

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  FRIENDS FOREVER

  OR

  THE YOUNG INVENTORS GUILD MEMBERS

  WAVE AN ENDLESS GOODBYE

  “But when will we see you again?” asked Lucy, tears welling in her eyes. She looked frantically from friend to friend.

  “Little one, there is much to be done,” said Dr. Isobel Modest. “The story does not end here, with us.”

  “And it doesn’t begin with us, either,” added Noah, looking up into his mother’s eyes.

  “No, my dear Noah, it most certainly does not.” Ariana smiled at her son.

  “I’m glad you’ve decided to keep your lab coat,” said Dr. Canto-Sagas, his hand around his wife’s shoulder. “It will be good to have you back in the lab.”

  “Only when I’m not on the stage, my love,” warned Ariana.

  “Can we see you soon?” asked Lucy. “Please, everyone, please?” She looked around at all the faces. Everyone seemed to express the same feeling.

  “Everyone can come at the end of October and stay for Thanksgiving on the 6th of November,” said Dr. Canto-Sagas.

  “Absolutely,” said Noah. “It’s a fabulous feast.”

  “Thanksgiving is at the end of November,” said Wallace. “It’s always on the very last Thursday. President Lincoln declared the date in 1863.”

  “That’s American Thanksgiving,” said Noah. “I’m talking about the real Thanksgiving, the Canadian Thanksgiving.”

  “You can come at the beginning of November and stay for both,” suggested Wallace.

  “But we have Guy Fawkes Night…‘Remember, remember, the Fifth of November,’” said Lucy. “It’s Bonfire Night and you can all come to London.”

  “Guy Fawkes Night?” said Noah in mock mortification. “Bonfire Night? When all the stuffy Brits go screaming in the streets shouting ‘Burn ’im! Burn ’im!’ and lighting men on fire?”

  “No, well…yes, actually,” said Jasper. “But they’re not real men, not anymore.”

  Everyone laughed, but there was an echo of sadness among them. For almost two years, the members of the Young Inventors Guild had spent almost
every waking hour together, and had truly become like family. As the laughs died into silence, Jasper looked at the faces around him. His eyes fell upon Faye, who was looking back at him.

  “Food shall be served soon,” said Dr. Rajesh Vigyanveta, as the brothers came to announce it. “Shall we all wash for supper and meet in the dining hall?”

  As the others went to freshen up for dinner, Faye and Jasper slipped away through the crowd and into the small side garden. They sat on the bench in the shade of the frangipani. As Faye turned to Jasper, fragrant flowers fell into her hair from the branches above. Jasper picked one up and inhaled its exotic sweetness.

  “Jasper,” said Faye, “I…I will miss you. And the others, as well, of course…but…I will miss you most of all.”

  “Faye,” Jasper started, “I…I …”

  She kissed him. He fell off the bench, barely catching himself before he hit the ground. His ears were ringing and he was sure he had suddenly gone blind.

  “I’m sorry,” said Faye, her face flushed.

  She seemed in a panic and was about to stand up when Jasper jumped up, took her by the shoulders, and kissed her back. He knew this was the bravest thing he had ever done.

  “Oh, Jasper,” she fell into his arms. “I’m afraid. I’m afraid of going back to my life, the horrid life of a princess in a tower, like one of Miss Brett’s stories.”

  Jasper smiled. “I thought your life was perfect in India.” Faye had always claimed as much.

  “It wasn’t,” she said. “It was lonely. I didn’t know how lonely I really was. I wanted friends, but I had no idea what that actually meant.”

  “Me, too,” said Jasper, his arm around her shoulder. “But now we do.”

  They sat there together, looking out at the ancient garden, as fragrant flowers dropped around them, scenting the air as they fell.