by Juman Malouf
The other seats around the circle were empty. Sonja looked around, worried.
“Excuse me,” said a familiar voice. “Do you know where the Protector of the Vanishing Islands is supposed to sit?”
Sonja wheeled around to find Mr. Fortune Teller standing behind her, smiling. He looked tired. Dark shadows circled his white eyes. She rushed into his arms.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The Land Where the Plants Reign
CHARLOTTE RUBBED HER FACE ON MR. FORTUNE TELLER’S scratchy wool jacket to make sure she was not dreaming. “It’s you,” she said softly. “It’s really you.”
“When has your Uncle Tell ever let you down?” The old man kissed the top of her head. “Who are your friends?”
“Wolf Boy, Moritz, and . . . Edgar.” Charlotte was a little scared that Uncle Tell might not approve of Edgar. He was stricter than Tatty and never encouraged them to have friends.
Alexandria pushed through the chairs and laid Dottie in the Great Tiffin’s hands. His eyes remained closed as he pressed the wrapped bundle against his bony chest.
“Alexandria, is that you?” croaked the Mother of All Geese and Fowl. Her voice was dry and scratchy. She put a large conical shell into her ear.
“Hello, Hester,” Alexandria muttered, uneasy.
The old woman squinted her one good eye. “I see Dottie’s got herself into a scrape again.” The crows shifted from one foot to the other. They squawked and wriggled their black tongues.
Alexandria slumped into a chair, leaving an empty one between herself and Hester. She fidgeted with her sleeves.
Alexandria seemed out of place. Charlotte remembered her telling them that there was a hierarchy among the Protectors. Alexandria was definitely at the bottom.
The Great Tiffin’s eyes popped open. They were large, round, and purple like his hair. “Protectors and their representatives, please, complete the circle.” His voice was soft and musical.
Mr. Fortune Teller led Wolf Boy and Edgar to their seats, then found his place between Hester and Alexandria. Moritz and the twins dropped onto the ground in front of him. Edgar shot a smile at Charlotte. She burned with pride. He looked dignified among the circle of Protectors.
“Are you going to stare at him all day?” she heard her sister say. Charlotte blew Edgar a kiss to annoy her.
“Look,” whispered Moritz. “He’s doing something to the bird.”
The Great Tiffin was bent over Dottie. His purple lips were pressed to her neck. His veins twitched under his thin, pale skin. His heartbeat thumped out loud. He was the most gentle-looking creature Charlotte had ever seen. Every movement he made was exact and precise. He would have been a good piano player, she thought.
After a moment, Dottie staggered onto her wrinkled gray claws. She cocked her head to one side and stretched her wings. The wound had disappeared. She looked up at the watching faces all around her. “They took Tatty to the City of Steel and Smoke. That’s where I was shot.”
Charlotte’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Tatty’s name.
“Did you see her?” blurted Sonja. Her eyes were wide and worried.
Charlotte wrung her hands. It was the moment of truth. Please, let her be alive. Please, please, please!
Dottie nodded weakly. “I couldn’t get close, but she spotted me. She knows we’re coming for her.”
Charlotte leapt to her feet. Tatty was alive. Sonja joined her, and they hopped up and down yelling, “She’s alive! Tatty’s alive!” Charlotte’s eyes twinkled. Her face glowed. Their dear, dear Tatty was alive.
Sonja tugged on Mr. Fortune Teller’s arm. “What do we do now? Let’s go get her!”
“Hold on, girls.” The old man gestured for them to sit back down. “We must listen to the others first.”
The twins slumped to the ground reluctantly.
Alexandria cleared her throat. “I have something to say.”
The Three Swifters finally lifted their gaze from the distance and looked all at once to Alexandria. Charlotte shuddered. Their dark eyes looked like they could turn someone into stone.
Alexandria kept her own eyes lowered as she said, “The Contessa and her son are building an army of white beasts. That’s why they’re looking for the source of the magic.”
The Three Swifters bore their jagged, pointy teeth and spoke one after the other in sharp, quick voices:
“The Pearl Catcher should be silenced.”
“She is to blame for what has happened.”
“Her privilege as Protector must be revoked.”
Charlotte saw Alexandria’s face turn hot and red. She glared at the Swifters. Their chairs shook. “That’s not true!” Alexandria yelled.
The Three Swifters’ eyes flashed with rage. Their orange locks slithered in the growing breeze like serpents.
“How dare you raise your voice at us.”
“You are only a mere Pearl Catcher.”
“Our powers put your meager ones to shame.”
Alexandria’s jaw clenched. Her lips pursed. “We’ll see about that.”
Mr. Fortune Teller touched her arm. “Don’t.”
Alexandria brushed him off and snapped her fingers. The Swifters’ chairs flew out from under them. The three women tumbled to the ground in a mass.
Hester hid a laugh behind her hand. The crows cawed. The Swifters looked up to the clear sky.
Gray clouds converged overhead and shrouded the sun. A bolt of lightning shot down and rumbled the earth all around them. Charlotte gasped. They could change the weather, like she had once done.
Across a sandy desert,
Float the Swifters, one, two, three.
Fiery-eyed, these spirits rise, in an ancient breeze,
Bringing thunder, rain, and lightning,
Not caring whom they please.
“Enough!” roared the Great Tiffin. Dottie fluttered off his lap. He gripped the arms of his chair. The veins popped out between his bony knuckles. The Swifters shrank into their seats, muttering and cursing. Alexandria slumped, embarrassed.
Mr. Fortune Teller tapped his cane nervously. “I’ve had visions of this beastly army. There will be a battle. I don’t see a city, though. It’s a dry, barren land.”
Alexandria looked up. “Staghart also had premonitions of war.”
The Swifters wheeled around and stared at the twins. One launched a finger at them. Her nostrils trembled. Her voice wavered. “The daughters of the Key will defeat them,” she announced. “They have the power against the living.”
Mr. Fortune Teller shook his head. “Impossible. Their powers were stolen.”
Hester popped the shell out from her ear and pulled up her patch. A large, shiny bird’s eye bulged out between her eyelids. It moved around, jerky, in its socket, sizing up the twins. “The Hawk’s Eye thinks they’re too old to have lost their powers.”
“They aren’t yet thirteen,” said the old man.
“If their magic was strong,” rasped Hester, “it’s in their blood already.”
The Three Swifters rocked back and forth in their chairs and whispered from one to the next:
“Only the essence was stolen.”
“The rest fled into hiding.”
“Their powers must be found and recovered!”
Charlotte could feel the Swifters’ eyes on her. A prickly breeze crept across her face and slipped into her ear. “Come! Come! Come!” it whispered.
Charlotte grabbed Sonja’s arm. “Did you hear that?”
“What?” said Sonja.
The Swifters reached for the twins with their freckled arms. Their nails were long and as sharp as the tips of arrows. “The daughters of the Key must come to the Lost Desert!” they chanted in unison. “We will hunt down their powers!”
The Great Tiffin shook his head. “Out of the quest
ion. They will stay with us. We must fight our enemies together.”
The Swifters rose. Their bare feet hovered off the ground. “We will take no part in your fight. We have said our piece, and not a one listened.”
“If that’s your wish. You must leave your Amulet behind.”
The Swifters clamped their hands over their left ears. “No! We have never—and will never—take off the Roses of Sand.”
Without another word, the Swifters floated from the circle. The smell of exotic spices lingered in the air after them. They disappeared among the poppies. The clouds parted, and sunlight returned.
Charlotte watched them go, confused. A little bit of her wished she could follow them.
The Great Tiffin sighed deeply. “We have no choice but to fight without the Swifters.”
“Good riddance,” muttered Hester.
Dottie flew back onto the Great Tiffin’s lap. He stroked the soft feathers down her back with his long, slender fingers. “Before we all part, we must confer with the Amulets and find the Protector of the Golden Underground.”
Edgar looked surprised. “I’m the Protector. My father named me.”
“It wasn’t his right,” said the Great Tiffin. “There are six Amulets present. That is enough to name the true Protector. It may be you, it may be another. Do you understand?”
Edgar was silent. Finally, he nodded.
The Great Tiffin gestured to the ground in the middle of the circle. Edgar sat down cross-legged. The Protectors closed their eyes. Their Amulets began to glow. An even stronger light came from the Great Tiffin’s stomach.
Wolf Boy joined in with the Protectors as they chanted a list of Alban names. They repeated the names over and over, randomly, but within a few minutes, the list had dwindled to two. “Edgar, Igor,” recited the Protectors.
The Great Tiffin’s lips quivered. He straightened in his chair like a bolt and blurted out a new name: “Ansel!”
The twins looked at each other. “Ansel?” Charlotte turned to Edgar, worried. His face looked as white as an Alban’s.
Soon, all the Protectors were saying Ansel’s name.
The light went out in the Great Tiffin’s stomach. His eyelids fluttered open. “It has been decided. The Protector of the Golden Underground is an Alban named Ansel.”
Edgar jumped to his feet. “Ansel should be Protector of the boars! That’s what he cares about.”
“We understand your disappointment,” the Great Tiffin said softly, “but we must do as the Amulets tell us. That is the law.”
Edgar shook his head. “I won’t accept it. I just won’t. Ansel can’t even come above ground. How is that power? I would make the whole underground into one land. Bring back the Longwalkers—”
“The Longwalkers?” Mr. Fortune Teller said skeptically.
“Yes, the Longwalkers!” Edgar burst out. He pointed at the Great Tiffin. “A people he helped destroy!”
The Great Tiffin bristled. “You speak falsely, Edgar. We warned your people to stop slaughtering the boars. They did not listen. The massacre happened before we could reach the underground.”
“That’s not true!” Edgar shouted.
Charlotte’s eyes brimmed with tears. She had witnessed how deep Edgar’s wounds were back at Jagged Rock. Charlotte grabbed Mr. Fortune Teller’s leg. “Do something, please.”
“Edgar,” the old man said, clearing his throat, “you know it isn’t only the Protectors who have a role in defending the Edens. You can still play an essential part, if that’s what you wish to do.”
Edgar opened his mouth and began to respond, but then his eyes met Charlotte’s. She smiled through her tears. Edgar’s face softened. He hunched over and mumbled, “You’re right, old man. I apologize. I was angry.”
Mr. Fortune Teller stood up and escorted Edgar back to his seat. “No harm done, my boy.”
“Once you return to the Golden Underground, Ansel must be told he is Protector,” the Great Tiffin said to Edgar. “But first, you, Alexandria, and the Changelings will accompany the daughters of the Key on a rescue mission. We will meet you once we have assembled our fighters. Hester, you’ll return to the Crooked Peaks and ask the Gobos for help. Hieronymus, you will do the same with the Gillypurs in the Vanishing Islands.”
Charlotte had always believed Rhubarb was like them—no family or history—but as it turned out, he was from the Vanishing Islands and part of an ancient herd. The twins, on the other hand, still did not know where they came from or who their parents were. But more and more, Charlotte had a feeling that their own history also had something to do with the Seven Edens.
The old woman turned to the crows and clicked her tongue. The crows bobbed their heads, hopping and cawing, and burst into the blue sky. Dottie flew up after them and then returned, circling the Protectors.
The Great Tiffin stood up and snapped open his wings. Charlotte stared at the four large eyes looking out from the swirling patterns on the soft velvety folds. “You’ll rest here for the night and leave for the City of Steel and Smoke in the morning.” He turned to Alexandria. “It’s where you were born, and you’ll know how best to maneuver within its walls.” He handed her a small bottle of clear liquid. “In case you need it.” He rose into the sky, his wings beating on either side of him, and flew away.
The two Tiffins guarding the entrance of the clearing stepped forward. One bowed and said, “If you please, Protectors, your Amulets.” The other held open a box lined with bits of broken Tiffin wings.
Alexandria undid her necklace. “It’s going to be strange without this old thing.” She reluctantly dropped the Hanging Pearl into the box. “You, too, boys.” Wolf Boy and Edgar gave the Tiffin their Amulets.
Charlotte put her arm through Edgar’s. “Sort of glad to get rid of it,” he whispered. “Takes away some of the pressure.”
“Goodbye, dear friend.” Mr. Fortune Teller kissed his tortoiseshell pendant before placing it in the box.
Hester frowned and lifted her patch. She dug the Hawk’s Eye out of her socket and threw it in with the others. “I’m going to have to find my old eye,” she grumbled. “I hope the buzzards didn’t eat it.”
“What about the Great Tiffin’s Amulet?” asked Sonja.
“The Tiffin’s Rock is actually inside his body,” explained Mr. Fortune Teller. “It can only be removed when he dies.”
They followed the Tiffins through the cluster of poppies into a smaller clearing. The ground was covered with woven mats. One of the Tiffins rolled them up. There was a mud pit underneath that bubbled and spluttered and stank like rotten eggs. The Tiffins said a prayer, then dropped the box into the pit. The box sank quickly.
Charlotte looked up at the Protectors. All three were holding back tears as the box disappeared. Charlotte knew what it felt like to lose something so essential. She squeezed Edgar’s hand. Maybe they would be as lucky as she had been and find something to take its place.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Memories of Home
SONJA WATCHED THE SUN SET THROUGH AN ORANGE HAZE. Her hands twitched by her sides. She was getting used to her tic now. It kept her company. Mr. Fortune Teller called her name and she ran after the others into the Ancient Garden.
The giant flowers had closed for the night, trapping their scents inside their petals. A line of rat-sized ants emerged from between stalks of white roses. They carried massive leaves over their heads, and their lacquered black eyes swiveled. Sonja held on to Mr. Fortune Teller. She would never get used to the giant insects.
Wolf Boy turned to the old man. “Hieronymus, can we leave the girls with you?”
“Hieronymus, you say?” chuckled Mr. Fortune Teller. “Okay, go on. I’ll keep an eye on them.”
As the Changelings ran off, Wolf Boy cried out, “No twinsitting tonight!”
Sonja folded her arms across her chest angrily.
>
“You like that Changeling, don’t you, Sonja?” said Mr. Fortune Teller.
Sonja’s jaw dropped. “Wolf Boy? Are you crazy?” She would never forgive him for lying to their faces in the Forlorn Forest or accidentally taking them to a monster factory or forcing them into a filthy trash chute or pulling her deep into the water with a hundred slithering eels (though their music was nice). Like Wolf Boy? She despised him.
Edgar cleared his throat. “I see you’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” He kissed Charlotte on the cheek. “I’ll meet you there.” He took off after the Changelings.
Mr. Fortune Teller shook his head. “That Edgar worries me. He seems troubled.”
“I agree,” said Sonja. Finally, somebody was going to do something about Charlotte and Edgar. “He kills boars.”
Charlotte put her hands on her hips and said sharply, “He’s the only Longwalker left. He saw his family massacred.”
“When something terrible happens to someone, it’s in their hands to come out of it stronger.” The old man tapped his head. “In here.” He pointed to his chest where his heart was. “And here.”
“Edgar will,” insisted Charlotte. “I’m sure of it.”
“I wonder how we’ll turn out,” said Sonja. “The Protectors say we still have our Talents.” She glanced at Charlotte. “Well, have you seen any sign of them?”
“Maybe we’re not trying hard enough. Maybe we have to practice.”
Sonja thought for a moment and looked up at the old man. “What do they mean, we’ll have power against the living?”
“The Great Tiffin has the power to heal the living. You saw how he saved Dottie.” Mr. Fortune Teller paused for a moment. He looked concerned. “Well, you see, the power against the living, that’s more like the opposite. It’s the ability to harm with only the flutter of an eyelash or a puff of a breath.”
The twins looked shocked. “We don’t harm anything,” insisted Charlotte.
“We don’t even hurt bugs,” said Sonja. “Well, except for that worm in the Forlorn Forest.”