The Mystic Travelogues

by J. C. Nusbaum

  Frustrated at his failed attempts to help Oscar and Leopold, Tug went to Jodie for ideas.

  “I don’t know what we can do if the Nomes refuse to release them,” she said. “We’ll just have to continue learning what we can and hope an opportunity presents itself.” Tug looked down at the ground, not wanting to accept what Jodie was recommending, but failing to offer any other suggestions.

  “I want to help them as much as you do,” Jodie added. “But we know they’re okay for now. Uncle Oscar is sleeping, and who knows how long Leopold was sitting in that closet before we came along? They’ll be all right until we can figure out a way to help them.”

  As promised, the Nomes soon built Jodie her own grotto— a cobblestone cottage in a secluded cavern. It was outfitted with soft furnishings and cheery mosaics of gemstones that were set into the walls, ceilings, and floors. In her revered role as Mamelon, Jodie was encouraged to enjoy what the Nomes called “capital pleasures,” and had a council of Nomes dedicated to keeping her indulged in Nomely pursuits. The head of the council was named Hubrik, and carried the task of educating Jodie in the ways of Nomes. He was a prideful Nome, and took for granted the notion that Jodie would immerse herself fully in Nome ways.

  Every day, Hubrik and the six Nomes that made up the rest of the council spent time with Jodie, each council member tasked with acclimating Jodie to a specific aspect of their kingdom’s culture. The Nome Gula introduced her to every kind of mushroom and encouraged her to gorge herself on the most delicious varieties until she found herself in the stupor that always accompanies overindulgence.

  Another Nome named Lux made sure that her days were filled with play. He showed her all sorts of games and delighted to perform silly antics to make her laugh. But Lux’s games were often interrupted by a sickly Nome called Avaric. He brought Jodie all sorts of bejeweled trinkets and impressed upon her those beautiful things that Nomes covet and must keep hidden away from the rest of the world.

  Ira was the Council Nome tasked with relating the Nome Kingdom’s history to Jodie, detailing the hardships and oppression that Nomes have had to endure since the beginning of time. In angry words he explained how Nomes had to leave their cousins in the woods and gardens of the upstairs world to hoard the earth’s treasures in their underground kingdom. This was the burden of Nomes, to ensure gemstones and precious metals remain a valuable commodity by keeping them scarce. For this, Ira explained, Nomes are misunderstood as villainous and unappreciated for the great service they provide the rest of the world. Ira worked with another Nome named Envid, who said very little, but echoed Ira’s resentment of upstairs humans and the luxuries they took for granted.

  The final Nome in the council was called Torp, and it was his job to see that the other council Nomes did not overburden Jodie with too much talk and distraction. He encouraged Jodie to take frequent breaks from the games and lessons, and joined her in long naps while the rest of the Nomes worked in the mines.

  Tug could visit Jodie when he was not required to hunt feathers. He found it difficult to speak with her alone as one or another member of the Nome Council was always hanging about Jodie and doting on her. On one such occasion, the Nome Lux was coaxing Tug to join them in a game of Slap Happy where they all made a grotesque or comical face while the others took a turn slapping them. Whoever could hold his frozen expression the longest without laughing or getting angry was the winner.

  “I don’t want to play that,” Tug said, choosing not to say what he really thought of the game.

  “But Lux doesn’t hit very hard,” Jodie said. “And he makes the funniest faces.”

  Tug was surprised that Jodie wanted to play games at all; they had not had an opportunity to speak privately since Leopold was taken from them and pickled like a cucumber.

  “I was hoping we could go for a walk, alone. I’ve found some interesting caverns while I was feather hunting. I can show you…”

  “We won’t be alone,” Jodie said, though she couldn’t really know it. “We might as well stay here.”

  “Okay,” Tug said, pushing on. “I’m worried about Leopold. He’s been trapped in that vase for days now. Maybe we can talk to King Renatus and convince him to let him go.”

  Lux laughed at the suggestion, but Tug ignored him.

  “I’m worried about him, too,” Jodie said. “But Hubrik told me that Leopold once flooded the Nome Kingdom and forced all the Nomes above ground. And Ira said it was Leopold’s fault that the King lost his memories. They’re very angry with him, and it sounds like they have their reasons.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Tug said. “How could Leopold possibly do that? Why would he do that? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Nothing makes sense anymore,” Jodie said. Lux must have heard the sadness in her voice because he immediately began walking on his hands and clapping his feet together until she laughed out loud.

  Time passed without consequence in the Nome Kingdom, marked only by a succession of trivial occurrences and without the benefit of the sunlight that comes by day and the stars that give one pause in the night. Tug wondered if he had really stopped aging, and knew that he did not want to be among the Nomes long enough to be sure.

  While Jodie seemed more and more a stranger to Tug, he could not blame her for allowing herself the comforts the Nome Council imposed upon her. She was making the best of her captivity, and it provided distraction from their frozen existence in the Nome Kingdom.

  It was a small consolation to Tug that Feldspar, the only Nome that had shown him kindness, often accompanied him on his feather hunting expeditions. The other Nomes were terrified at the prospect of coming anywhere near a bird, unlikely as that prospect may be, and they thought Feldspar was not right in the head to willingly join in this task.

  On these expeditions, Tug tried to learn as much as he could from the young Nome in hopes of discovering a way to break the enchantment that held both children captive by erasing their memories if they ever left the Nome Kingdom. Deep inside one of the abandoned mineshafts, Tug asked Feldspar the question that had been bothering him ever since his name was stolen.

  “How can you be sure I’ll forget everything if I leave? You told me yourself how fond Nomes are of tricks.”

  Feldspar thought about it for a long while, as if he, himself, had been tricked into believing a myth instead of being entrusted with the truth.

  Then he shook his head, recalling, “But the King!”

  Tug did not understand, and Feldspar tried to explain, “The Auberon Leopold flooded the Nome Kingdom. Forced all the Nomes to the surface. The bear played his own trick on King Renatus. Wrote the King’s name down instead of his own. It’s why the King changed his name again. When the King fled the Kingdom, he lost all his memories. You saw! King Renatus ate off the spoon, his memories came back.”

  “So someone whose name is stolen could just take the spoon with them when they leave the Nome Kingdom and restore their own memories,” Tug suggested.

  “Must administer a special tonic with it,” Feldspar explained. “Besides, steal the spoon and know the potion now, forget it all outside the Nome Kingdom.”

  Tug considered it for a moment but couldn’t see a way around it.

  “Why was Leopold in the Nome Kingdom?” He asked.

  “Too young to remember, but have heard the story many times. The toy bear was the King’s jester. Seemed grateful to serve the King, then the Auberon betrayed him. That bear waited until the new moon to open the mine’s floodgates. Every last Nome had to return to the surface until the waters subsided. Before any Nome figured out what happened, the bear ran away with the spoon.”

  Feldspar stopped speaking and let out a little sniffle. “Only time I got to go upstairs, but I was just a podling. Too young to remember anything. It’s true, above there is light with no fire?”

  “Sometimes,” Tug said, not really wanting to try to explain daylight to a Nome. “Why is he called ‘the Auberon Leopold’?”

  �
��Noble bear, what I heard. Baron of some other country.”

  It did not really answer Tug’s question, and like much of what Feldspar told him, it only sparked more questions. It was vexing that Feldspar did not have many of the answers, like how Leopold came to be the King’s jester, or why he tricked the King into losing his memory, or how he ended up at Three Chimneys with Uncle Oscar.

  When Tug relayed what he had learned to Jodie, she seemed concerned but distracted. Tug found he had trouble making eye-contact with her, and she didn’t ask any questions of her own.

  “Feldspar said Leopold was a baron from a nearby country,” Tug tried to explain to her. “Maybe that’s where the princess is that Uncle Oscar was talking about.”

  But Jodie shrugged her shoulders at the suggestion, “You shouldn’t listen to what Feldspar tells you. The other Nomes said when he was a podling he got lost for days in the upstairs world, after the great flood. They say it messed him up, and that’s why he’s so strange. Besides, it doesn’t matter where that princess is— you know we can’t leave without forgetting everything.”

  “Would that be any worse than staying in the Nome Kingdom forever?”

  Again, Jodie shrugged. Tug wondered how he might get through to her. He trusted that somehow she still cared what happened to them all, but Tug also remembered how difficult it was to care when everything you knew was taken away from you.

  In the customary fashion, Tug had barely arrived at Jodie’s grotto before he was interrupted by Nomes. This time an entire pack came in, some carrying shovels and pickaxes from their work in the mines.

  “You know you have to leave your dirty things outside,” Jodie said.

  The Nomes nodded and those with mining equipment carried it back out again. Soon the room was filled with so many Nomes that Tug was forced into a corner to make room for them all.

  It had become routine that when the Nomes finished their work in the mines they came to Jodie’s grotto to hear one of her stories. On this occasion, she began a tale of a bad little Nome who didn’t share, and was sent to bed without supper.

  “And he missed out on all kinds of delicious mushrooms,” Jodie explained. “There were some in a stew with lots of spicy flavors, and some chilled ones that were really crunchy, and lots of sweet kinds, and some more spicy kinds. And the little Nome was hungry. Especially when he saw the sweet ones. But still, that’s what you get for not bringing anything to share.”

  The Nomes hung on her every word, no matter how boring or repetitive her story was. But Tug knew another Jodie, one that would be suffering with boredom by the story she was now telling the Nomes. The Jodie that Tug knew had already forgotten herself without even leaving the Nome Kingdom. Tug continued to listen to her story, hoping to catch a glimpse of the friend that he knew and loved. But now Jodie was simply content to have a captive audience that could keep her distracted, perhaps to forget the girl that never knew despair.

  Tug understood that Jodie’s story wasn’t getting any better. Worse than that, he understood that Jodie wasn’t getting better. His mind made up, he slipped out the back and went looking for Feldspar. Tug found him at his post, guarding the stone staircase in case any strangers tried to make their way into the caverns.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to leave the Nome Kingdom. I’m going take Leopold with me, and I’ll come back for Jodie and my uncle. But I can only do it if you help me.”

  “MUSHMUCK,” Feldspar muttered, hopping nervously from foot to foot. “Not right.”

  “Feldspar, I need you to show me where they’ve taken Leopold.”

  “Preservation Room. Never been. No younglings allowed, you see.”

  “But do you know where it is?”

  The little Nome thought about it for a moment, “Know where it must be.”

  “Can you take me there?”

  “Condition,” the Nome demanded. “Take me upstairs. I won’t be forgetting, like you.”

  “No. I need you to stay here and look after Jodie.”

  “But she has Council, and you will forget yourself.”

  “I won’t forget everything; there was paper and ink in the grotto. I’ve written everything down that I need to remember,” Tug said, pulling out some folded pieces of paper from his tunic. “Besides, where I’m going I’m not sure you’d be safe.”

  Feldspar clutched Tug’s sleeve and looked up at him. “Only friend,” he said with a sniffle. “No Nomes ever talk to Feldspar. Want to see upstairs.”

  Tug considered if he should bring him along, but knew that would not be fair to take the Nome into a world that Tug might have no memory of. “If I can make it back, we’ll know it’s safe to leave the Nome Kingdom. When I come for Jodie and Uncle Oscar, if you still feel the same, you can leave with us. I promise. Until then, you need to help Jodie. Try not to let her forget who she is. Ask her difficult questions, and don’t agree with everything she tells you.”

  “But she is Mamelon!”

  “She is just like me, but a little spoiled right now.”

  Feldspar did not seem to understand, and Tug was more concerned about finding Leopold. “The Preservation Room, where is it?”

  “His Majesty’s royal chambers, behind the curtain in the throne room. Only stewards and the chamberlain allowed.”

  “Take this,” Tug reached into another pocket and pulled out a handful of feathers. Feldspar flinched at the sight of them.

  “They’re only paper. It was the best I could do. I need you to take one and hide it in the King’s throne room.”

  Tug stood at the entrance and watched as Feldspar went on ahead and entered King Renatus’ chambers alone. Hubrik was there discussing The Council’s progress with the Mamelon, and several other Nomes were fussing about the King, looking busy and important. Feldspar drifted through the room unnoticed, as was almost always the case with the unfortunate little Nome.

  When Tug stepped into the King’s chambers, he kept an eye on Feldspar across the room, who continued to look nervously at the lower corner of a great tapestry that hung behind the Nome King’s throne. Tug looked for himself and he could spot the smallest white edge of one of his paper feathers sticking out from under the cloth.

  Tug walked through the crowd. Silence spread across the chamber, Nome by Nome, as each ceased their chattering to stare at the boy. Tug stopped several feet before the King’s throne and bowed his head.

  The Nome King looked down upon him in annoyance. “Why do you disturb my royal court?” he asked.

  “I don’t mean to alarm Your Majesty, but I’ve found a trail of feathers.” Tug pulled a handful of the counterfeit feathers from his tunic and held them out just long enough for the Nomes to get a quick look before thrusting them back in his pocket.

  Shrieks and wails of panic echoed throughout the cavern and Tug tried to make a calming motion by pushing his palms down through the air. The King looked at him suspiciously, and Tug continued before anyone could interject.

  “Please,” Tug shouted over the crowd. “The feathers lead this way and I need to see if a bird came through here.”

  Before any Nome could interfere, Tug started looking behind columns and around corners. Allowing just enough time to pass to be believable, Tug glanced behind the King’s throne and shouted, “Look!”

  He then rushed over and lifted the corner of the tapestry, revealing the paper feather that Feldspar had planted. Every Nome in the room craned their neck to see the dread article. The Nome King, now convinced, climbed up on the seat of his throne and peered down from behind the chair’s back. Tug snatched up the feather and put it in his pocket with the rest.

  “The bird must have gone under this curtain. Stay back, and I will go in and capture it before it can harm anyone.” Tug spoke the words hoping they would have meaning to the Nomes, even though he didn’t know what was meant by them.

  None of the Nomes tried to stop Tug from making his way behind the curtain and into the secluded quarters that were normally off-limits to all but a f
ew very important Nomes. Tug let the curtain fall behind him and took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. A great hall stretched out before him into a black tunnel that might have been endless from what Tug could determine. Along the walls on either side, ledges were carved into the stone. They were lined with jars stacked on top of each other and several deep so that the tunnel looked like a cellar pantry that stretched on to infinity. Any hope Tug had of finding his and Jodie’s names were dashed by the impossibility of ever finding their jars. Tug had prepared himself for the likelihood that he might not be able to get his name back, and in this moment he knew it was more important to find Leopold than preserving his memories.

  Tug took a torch that was hanging next to the tunnel’s entrance and began down the passage, looking frantically for the green vase. Soon he discovered that other tunnels intersected the one he was in, each one lined with more jars and trailing off into darkness. He chose one at random and turned into it, dropping a feather on the ground from the direction he had come. When that tunnel split into several identical passages, Tug realized the Preservation Room was more of a labyrinth than an actual room. He continued on, dropping paper feathers to mark his trail wherever he turned off course. Eventually, Tug stood at an intersection of tunnels and pulled out the last of his feathers, but rather than continuing on, he sat down in distress and tried to think of what to do next. While he was considering retracing his paper trail and starting over, he heard a far-off rumbling growl. It was muffled and so faint that it seemed almost like a sad memory, rather than an actual sound. Tug stood up and listened carefully to determine which direction it was coming from. When he was sure, he dropped his last feather and began to run in the direction of the growl.

  In a dark corner of a long tunnel, Tug found the green vase and held his torch up to see Leopold’s form pressing against the obscured glass.