The Wonderling

by Mira Bartók

  The three would start their journey by cover of night.

  “Now, off to bed with you,” said Mrs. Oakley, and Pinecone led his fellow knights to his cubbyhole so they could get some sleep.

  Later, as promised, Pinecone’s mother woke the travelers so they could play a bit before their arduous journey. Pinecone and his siblings taught Arthur and Trinket how to play his favorite tree games — Find the Acorn, Tree Tag, Catch the Squirrel, and Stick and Toss. Afterward, Arthur proudly taught everyone a couple of the games he had learned at Wildered Manor.

  Peevil, however, told Arthur that this was certainly not the time to think about childish games, and spent the rest of the day contemplating what battle strategies he should use, for he was sure that a great battle awaited them at this forbidding fortress called the Home, ruled by a tyrannical monster called Miss Carbunkle.

  IT WAS A WILD MOON that night, yellow and full.

  Peevil, Arthur, and Trinket had decided to leave right after dinner, but it was nearly nine when they finally got ready to go. Mr. and Mrs. Oakley tried hard to convince them to leave the next morning, but they were determined to get on the road.

  Arthur was wearing his old gray clothes, which were now fresh and clean. He hated to put them back on, but where they were going, he couldn’t afford to stand out.

  Mrs. Oakley helped Peevil put on the padded leather suit of armor she had made. She had fashioned his helmet from an acorn and his shield from the face of an antique French watch. “See those little hooks on the side of your shield?” she said. “You can attach them to your armor if you need more protection in the front.”

  For his sword, she gave Peevil a small clock hand. It was elegant, sharp, and perfectly formed. He slipped it through his belt. He liked the fact that his shield was French, and was so overwhelmed with emotion about everything that he recited his favorite poem by Victor Hugo, which began: Demain, dès l’aube, à l’heure où blanchit la campagne, Je partirai.◆

  ◆ Tomorrow, at dawn, at the moment when the countryside pales, / I shall depart.

  When Arthur repeated Peevil’s translation from French to English (he didn’t dare try repeating what the mouse had said in French), Mrs. Oakley, who was clearly moved, put her hand to her heart and exclaimed, “Oh, Peevil!” The mouse solemnly kissed her finger and bowed.

  Everyone was truly impressed by the little mouse knight before them.

  Pinecone knelt before Peevil and said, “I, Sir Galahad Pinecone . . . of the . . . of the Order of the Oaks . . . shall serve thee till the bitter end. Forsooth! What ho! And . . . and . . . huzzah!”

  “Oh, Pinecone,” said his mother, patting him on the head. “You sweet boy.”

  Then the Oakley family said their sad good-byes to the three adventurers. Pinecone broke into tears and begged them to take him, saying that he had a sword all ready and that he was born to be a knight, but Mr. Oakley wiped his tears away and said that someday he’d get to go on such an adventure, but this was not that day. He was still too little. He scooped Pinecone up and put him on his shoulders, which seemed to calm the boy down a tiny bit.

  Peevil said to Arthur, “Please tell him that someday we will fight side by side. I give him my word.” When Arthur relayed the message, Pinecone managed a little smile.

  Pinecone’s father gave Arthur the food and other things he had prepared for their mission. He gave him a rucksack as well, since Arthur had relinquished his to the Norahc not so long ago.

  “Thanks!” said Arthur gratefully.

  “Arthur,” said Mrs. Oakley, “don’t forget this.” She handed him a detailed map, drawn on a piece of birch bark. “And also don’t forget, you three — our home is always open to you.” She hugged Arthur and kissed the top of his head. No one had ever kissed him before, and he felt tingly and warm. “Come back safe and sound,” she said.

  And so the three travelers took off into the night.

  They made their way out of Pinecone’s woods and headed south toward the lower valley. It was a lovely, clear evening, and would have been a delightful walk, save for the fact that they were in a desperate hurry to get somewhere, and not one horse and buggy, not even a donkey cart, passed by to offer them a ride. The road before them was empty and stretched on and on into the dark.

  “At this rate, we’ll get there by next winter,” said Arthur after they had been walking for more than four hours. He was beginning to feel tired and cranky. “What if we’re too late? What if she’s already made a copy of the plans? What’ll we do then?”

  “Arthur, I really think I should fly ahead,” said Trinket.

  “What are you talking about?” said Arthur. “We are not splitting up. One for all and all for one, all right?”

  Peevil popped his head out of Arthur’s pocket. “I mean, really,” he said. “We go together or not at all.”

  “What’s he saying?” asked Trinket. Arthur translated.

  “That mouse is a bit bossy, isn’t he?” she whispered.

  “I heard that!” said Peevil.

  “Please, let’s not squabble, okay? We have a long night ahead of us.”

  “Sorry,” said Trinket.

  “I’m sorry too,” said Peevil, a bit reluctantly. “And by the way, it’s actually a short night, not a long one. It’s June twenty-first, the Summer Solstice — the shortest night of the year.”

  All of a sudden, Arthur heard a familiar sound.

  High above his head, giant wings were flapping in the air. He felt a strong gust of wind, and then a bright shaft of light shone down on the travelers from above. The three of them looked up at once. The great Crow hovered for a moment, then swooped down to the ground. She landed a few feet in front of them.

  “Belisha!” cried Arthur. He ran up to her and would have thrown his arms around her neck if he were tall enough. He burst out, “You came back!” He suddenly remembered protocol and bowed respectfully before the Night Crow. Trinket bowed as well, while Peevil saluted the Crow by waving his sword in the air.

  Belisha bowed her head to the three companions. “I was on my way home when I thought about what you said, young Foxling — about this Carbunkle creature who is plotting to steal all the music of the world. I thought that if she could find a way to steal our songs, she could take our dreams away too. And without our dreams, we are nothing.”

  “But will you be okay?” asked Arthur. “I mean, what if we’re still not done at dawn?”

  “I will have to leave you before then,” said the Crow. “What is it you creatures say? ‘We will cross that bridge when we come to it.’ She let out several kek kek kek keks, which frightened Trinket terribly until Arthur explained to her that the Crow was only laughing.

  It took Belisha and the others only one hour to reach Miss Carbunkle’s Home for Wayward and Misbegotten Creatures. Arthur helped navigate, using the map and his own recollection of the route. As they got closer, Arthur could make out the shape of the Home in the moonlight. An icy finger went down his spine. He would have to be very brave indeed.

  They decided to stop for a minute and go over the plan one more time. Belisha landed quietly on the driveway, and the others dismounted.

  “First, we have to stop the dogs from barking,” said Arthur. “Then we’ll fly around to the back. Belisha will take us over the Wall into Kestrel Courtyard. She’ll have to hide in the shadows until we meet up there again.” He paused, then added, “I still don’t know what we’ll do if we get caught.”

  “I shall defend us to the death!” said Peevil, raising his sword above his head.

  “You are a very brave mouse,” said Arthur, “but I’m afraid your sword will be useless against Miss Carbunkle’s cane or Mr. Sneezeweed’s paddle.”

  “Humph! You’d be surprised,” said Peevil.

  “Just remember,” said Belisha, “time is of the essence. If you are not back before dawn, I must leave you behind and quickly find a way to the world below. Otherwise, I could go blind. If that happens, I am useless both Above and Below.�
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  “We understand,” said Arthur as he and the others climbed up onto Belisha’s back.

  “Is everyone ready?” asked Belisha. “Steady, now. Up we go.” And the Guardian of the Night Crows flapped her great black wings and lifted into the sky.

  THE CROW hovered above the Home’s high black gate. Arthur felt a shiver down his spine when he saw the old sign clanking in the wind.

  The guard dogs sensed something strange above them and began to bark. Arthur tossed down the sack of bones Mr. Oakley had given him for just this purpose. The dogs immediately commenced with quiet, gleeful gnawing.

  “I say,” said Peevil, “fine aim!”

  “Th-thanks,” said Arthur, somewhat dazed. “I — I don’t believe it! It’s incredible!”

  “What is it?” asked Trinket, concerned.

  “I understood every word those dogs said! I mean, up until now I could only understand mice and rats. I talked to a frog once too. But just now, I understood those two dogs!”

  “Blimey, Arthur, that’s amazing!” said Trinket. “What were they saying? Something ghastly, I suppose?”

  “No, Trinket! All they said was something like ‘Birdie? No. Mousie? Mousie! Eat mousie! Hungee! Me hungee! Scratch bum? No, you!’ Stuff like that. It was hilarious!”

  “And you don’t think that ‘Eat mousie’ is ghastly?” asked Peevil. But before Arthur could apologize to him and translate for the others, Belisha let out a reprimanding squawk and said that now was not the time to be talking about dogs. She flapped her wings and flew to the back of the Home.

  They landed with a whoosh in Kestrel Courtyard.

  Inside the Wall, it was raining, as usual. The three companions took shelter beneath one of Belisha’s wings while they went over their plan one more time.

  Arthur looked around at the place that had held him captive for so long. The Wall still blocked out the beauty of the world, except for his old friend the tall white birch. Everything was still sad, dismal, and gray. The only change he could see was that the pile of rubble at the far end of the courtyard was gone, and most likely the hole in the Wall behind it had been sealed up tight. He had been hoping the hole was still there in case they were not done before Belisha had to leave.

  Above them, the gargoyles wept veils of tears into the muddy yard. Arthur was grateful for their tears, because the splashing would block the sound of the three of them creeping to the back door of Kestrel Hall.

  Arthur remembered Miss Carbunkle telling the man with white gloves that the Songcatcher plans were “gathering dust in her closet.” But the Home was full of closets, so that didn’t help. As for the Songcatcher, Arthur had a hunch it was hidden in either the Widget Room or the cellar.

  “Don’t ask me why, but I think the Songcatcher and the plans for building it are in two different places,” whispered Arthur. “I want to get both out of here. I think the Wig hid the Songcatcher in one of her factories where the other machines are. The plans could be in any closet, though. Even in her office or private chambers.”

  Peevil offered to slip under the office door and search inside Miss Carbunkle’s inner sanctum. “I can get into places you two can’t. And although I am a knight,” proclaimed Peevil, “I can be, shall we say, as quiet as a mouse.”

  “What did he say?” whispered Trinket.

  Arthur translated.

  “But he is a mouse,” said Trinket.

  “Excuse me, but I am a mouse knight on a quest,” said Peevil. “I think that’s pretty obvious.”

  “Stop it, you two!” said Arthur. “We can’t lose any more time! Peevil — that’s an excellent idea. Are you sure you’ll be all right? It’s awfully dangerous.”

  Peevil nodded solemnly. Arthur turned to the Crow and looked up at her great round eyes. “Will you be all right out here in the rain?”

  “I am a Night Crow,” said Belisha. “I am not the one you should be fretting about. You have no idea what I’m capable of, Foxling. Speaking of which, I would like to offer my services in this regard. Should I run into this Carbunkle of yours, I could easily and efficiently peck out her eyes and pluck out her entrails. It would take approximately two and a half minutes to complete the task.”

  “Thanks for the . . . uh . . . generous offer,” said Arthur, “but I think if you run into Miss Carbunkle — she’s hard to miss: a tall woman with a big orange wig — perhaps just pick her up and drop her in the middle of a field somewhere, then come back for us. That should suffice. Much obliged, though.”

  Arthur checked his pockets for the things Mr. Oakley had given him for the job: candles, matches, rope, and a couple other odds and ends. “I think I have everything. Trinket, would you do the honors?”

  Trinket hopped up and down with enthusiasm. “Yes! Let the games begin!”

  When they got to the door from the courtyard to the hall, Arthur lifted her up so she could work her magic. She had her new flying suit on, but she would use it only if necessary, as it was a bit noisy.

  “You know,” said Arthur, “you’d make a pretty good thief if you put your mind to it.”

  Trinket peeped good-naturedly and inserted her beak into the keyhole. But to their surprise, the door was already unlocked.

  “I bet it’s always been unlocked,” said Arthur. “Who needs a lock when you make everyone so afraid to leave?”

  Trinket scuttled beside Arthur while Peevil followed close behind. The dim glow from the gaslight sconces cast eerie shadows along the silent corridor of Kestrel Hall.

  “First things first,” whispered Arthur. “Let’s wake up Nurse Linette. She’ll help us, I’m sure of it. Follow me, but be very quiet. Sneezeweed’s quarters are behind that door!”

  Sneezeweed’s chamber was right next to the entrance to Kestrel Courtyard, across the hall from the two dormitory rooms. The infirmary was next to his room, and next to that was Linette’s room. The three intruders crept up to Linette’s door. Arthur reached up high and tried the handle to see if it was locked, but the door swung right open.

  The three intruders peeked in. No one was there.

  They tried the infirmary. That was empty too.

  “That’s strange,” said Arthur. “Maybe she went on holiday. But I don’t know. I have a funny feeling. . . .”

  “I do too, Arthur,” said Trinket. “But we better move on.”

  They hurried down Kestrel Hall to the Grand Hall, the point where all four corridors met. The giant cuckoo clock struck two a.m. just as they reached Miss Carbunkle’s office. The mechanical yellow bird danced out of the door, and as it chirped its lively song, the big beak popped out and swallowed it up with a sinister snap!

  Arthur’s ear quivered. He reached up and patted it, his old way of soothing himself when he was frightened. He would have reached for his blanket scrap and key, but they were lying somewhere in the subterranean world below.

  Trinket nudged Arthur’s foot with her beak. “You okay?” she asked.

  He smiled down at her. “I’m fine. Really. We need to hurry. Follow me.”

  He motioned behind the clock. “I saw a repairman go inside the clock once. There should be a door — ah, there it is. Come on.” The three slipped inside the base of the clock and shut the door. It was surprisingly roomy, at least for two small groundlings and a mouse.

  “Peevil,” said Arthur, “I’m pretty sure the Songcatcher’s in the cellar, but just in case, it’s easy to recognize. It looks like a big scalloped bell on top of a box, with a hand crank on the side. As for the plans — I’ve never seen them, but I think they’re rolled up like a scroll and tied with a blue ribbon. And please. Do not try to do anything crazy. If you find either of these two things, just let us know where they are, and we’ll take it from there. Got that?”

  “I shall complete the mission, my liege, and report back immediately. I am at your command.”

  “My brave little friend,” said Arthur, misty-eyed.

  Arthur decided that they should all meet back inside the clock in one hour.
If something went wrong, or any of them couldn’t get to the clock, they were to return to Kestrel Courtyard and wait with Belisha.

  “Arthur,” whispered Trinket, “do you really think it’s safe meeting right by her office? It seems crazy to me.”

  “That’s the last place Miss Carbunkle would look for intruders, if she even wakes up. It’s two in the morning; she has to be asleep, right? Besides, if Peevil finds the plans or the Songcatcher in there, we’ll be close enough to get them. I just hope that they’re in her office and not upstairs in her bedroom.”

  “Don’t forget,” said Trinket. “Her office and chambers are soundproof. Even for you. For all we know, she could be wide-awake.”

  “It’s a chance we have to take.”

  The three of them crept out from their hiding place inside the cuckoo clock.

  “Good luck, Peevil,” said Arthur. “You are the most courageous knight I have ever known.”

  Trinket nodded in agreement and bowed low to the mouse in armor.

  Peevil stood at the ready, his watch-face shield strapped to the front of him, his paw on the hilt of his sword. “I shall go forth bravely and with honor,” said the mouse. He scampered off toward the office and in an instant was gone.

  “I hope he’ll be okay,” said Arthur, wringing his hands. He took a deep breath and said, “We should check out the Widget Room in Falcon Hall first. She might have hidden it there. If not, we’ll look in the cellar. Let’s go.”

  UPSTAIRS IN HER CHAMBERS, Miss Carbunkle was indeed wide-awake. Mardox had just finished trimming the downy feathers on her head with his sharp black tines. It was a complicated business, as you can imagine.

  “We really shouldn’t wait so long next time,” said the creature. “You know how itchy your scalp gets when those feathers start growing back in!”

  Their conversation was cut short by a sound downstairs — three soft raps and one sharp one — Wire’s signature knock. The headmistress hastily swept the downy feathers under her dresser and donned her orange wig, while Mardox slithered back inside the cane.