Braver Page 10

  Stella smoothed her sash. “I’ll give my welcoming speech, I will. Then I’ll escort the queen on a tour of the town, making sure she stops at Stella’s Star to sip my famous honey brew.” Stella motioned Lola to lean closer. Then she stood on tiptoe and whispered in Lola’s ear. “Once she’s tasted it, I know she’ll want to buy barrels for the palace. This visit will make me rich, it will. I’ll open a chain of Stella’s Stars throughout the kingdom.”

  Lola smiled, trying to show some enthusiasm for Stella’s dream. But at that moment, all she could think about was her family. And the doubt that kept creeping back into her mind. She wrung her paws.

  “Everything is going to work out, it is,” Stella told her. “This is so exciting. I’ve never seen the queen up close.”

  “Me neither. But my uncle is her friend. He’s the ambassador to the Northern Forest and the Realms Beyond.”

  Stella’s mouth fell open. “Wait. Your uncle? Your uncle is Tobias Bottom?”

  “Yes,” Lola said proudly. But why was Stella looking so worried all of a sudden?

  “Oh, Lola, I heard from the railroad workers that your uncle—”

  A whistle sounded. Then the tracks began to vibrate. A ribbon of black smoke appeared in the distance, rising into the sky. Lola sniffed the air and furrowed her brow in worry. Both for the smoke and for what Stella had been about to say. “Don’t you worry none,” Stella said. “It’s not fire. It’s the train, it is.”

  “Stella, you were saying something about my uncle—?”

  The whistle sounded again, closer this time. And that’s when the train rounded the corn field and came into view. At first it reminded Lola of a dragon from a storybook, creeping along the ground, smoke and steam rising from its nostrils. But dragons were pretend, and this thing was very real.

  It was the strangest contraption she’d ever seen. It looked like a bunch of wooden wagons had been strung together, with the first and biggest wagon pulling the others and spewing the plume of smoke. The second wagon carried a large pile of blackened rocks the same color as the smoke rising from the train’s chimney. A thin metal roof served to protect the rocks, ensuring they remained unexposed to the rain. The other wagons were boxlike and empty, ready to be filled with goods. And at the end of the train, the cars were more like carriages and had doors and windows.

  Chug, chug, chug, chug, chug.

  A loud keening screech pierced the air. Lola fit her paws over her ears to blot out the metallic wail. As the train slowed, the sound quieted and Lola’s paws relaxed. The train came to a full stop and the engine ceased, as did the plume of black smoke. Lola’s gaze traveled down to the center carriage, which was painted gold and bore the initials “H.R.M.” Her Royal Majesty. The windows of this golden carriage were covered with velvet curtains. Lola could barely stand still, knowing Queen Myra was in there. Being the largest mammal in attendance, she would have the best view when the queen made her appearance.

  A mouse squealed. Then another. The crowd began to shuffle in an agitated way, as if all the mice were being stirred in a giant pot. Something was frightening them. Lola and Stella stopped talking and looked down the length of the train. The windows in the passenger cars had opened and dozens of rats had stuck out their heads. Black rats, gray rats, brown rats, all the different kinds that lived in forests, in fields, and in swamps. A grizzled older rat held up his paws and began to lead the others in a song:

  Who do we serve?

  Queen Myra!

  Who do we serve?

  Our queen!

  Who gives us piles of food to eat?

  Food that’s savory, food that’s sweet

  Food that makes our lives complete

  Serving our queen is our favorite treat

  Who do we serve?

  Queen Myra!

  Who do we serve?

  Our queen!

  Lola listened carefully to the song’s lyrics. What she’d learned in the swamp seemed to be true. A promise of endless food was what every rat wanted—and they’d do anything to get it, whether that meant working for the queen or for a night monster.

  “Coming through!” Bob and Stanley pushed their way through the crowd of mice, then called up to one of the train’s open windows. “G’day mates. Are you all working for the queen?”

  “We sure are,” a balding rat told them over the noise of the singing. “We joined the Royal Guard. Soon as we’re done in this town, we’ll be heading back to Dore to eat our fill of whatever we want.”

  “Does that include garbage?” Bob asked.

  “Sure does, if that’s to your liking.”

  “We want to join up immediately!” Stanley said.

  “You’ll have to talk to the overseer, but climb aboard.”

  Bob and Stanley grabbed the handrail, climbed the little stairs and joined the others in one of the carriages. It seemed as if their journey would have a happy ending, but what about Lola’s? Her gaze settled on the golden carriage. “Why is the queen traveling with rats?” she asked Stella. “What do they do for her, exactly?”

  “That is a good question, it is,” Stella replied.

  The singing continued for a few more moments until someone hollered, “Cease that infernal racket!”

  The door to the golden carriage opened. Both Lola and Stella stiffened and held their breaths. Queen Myra was about to show herself. The mice began cheering again. “The queen! The queen!” They squealed, they bounced, they waved their little arms. Lola looked over her shoulder, hoping to find Melvin. Was he still doing his grooming? He was going to miss the queen.

  But then, as if they’d all been dunked in cold river water, the entire crowd gasped. The world went silent.

  Instead of Queen Myra disembarking as expected, a pair of nightmare creatures stepped out of the golden carriage.

  14

  A MONSTROUS PAIR

  Though the farmland mice had never seen Tassie devils, they’d heard the stories and, like Lola, they carried an instinctual fear of predators. Squeals and shrieks filled the air as the crowd began to churn. Panic ensued as mice parents grabbed their youngsters and ran desperately into the nearest cornfield, disappearing into its dense forest of stalks and leaves.

  “Hide, Lola, hide,” Stella said, pushing Lola with all her might.

  Stella was right. What if these monsters were collecting wombats, just like the gold-toothed one? Lola darted behind the train station’s platform and crouched as low as she could, pressing her belly to the ground. Only a moment ago she’d been wishing that Melvin would hurry up and finish his morning grooming so he could meet the queen. Now she was grateful that he and Blue were safe in the warehouse.

  Lola peered around a post to get a better look. Only one mouse was left standing on the platform, which was now littered with abandoned WELCOME signs and bouquets. Stella straightened herself to her full height, then stepped forward. “May I help you?”

  “Yes, I will allow you to be of assistance.” An authoritarian voice resonated from the shorter of the pair of Tassie devils who had disembarked from the train. Her white markings encircled her neck like a mane. She wore a shiny black robe embroidered with red thread that matched the color of her ears. “I am Overseer Rake, daughter of Rake, and this is Taskmaster Lash, son of Lash.”

  The taskmaster was different because his fur was pure white. The taskmaster held a ruffled black parasol. He stood under its shade, squinting against the sunlight through small darkened spectacles. He also wore a long black robe, but his was plain and wrapped tighter about himself.

  Lola held as still as she could, hoping the pair wouldn’t notice her. If Stella felt fear, she showed no signs of it as she faced the ferocious carnivores. “I’m Stella Star, I am, Mayor of Bounty. We had a welcoming committee for the queen, we did, but I’m afraid…” She looked around. “I’m afraid you scared them off. We haven’t seen any Tassie devils in these parts in many generations.”

  Overseer Rake drew a deep breath through her teeth, then spoke
in a tone dripping with self-assurance. “We are about to become a familiar presence.”

  What did that mean? Lola wondered. Did that mean more of them were leaving the mountain? The rats continued to hang out the windows, scratching themselves and watching the scene unfold.

  “How is Her Majesty?” Stella asked, looking up and down the train. “Did she enjoy the trip?”

  “The queen has sent us in her stead. She has more important matters to tend to.” The overseer reached out and caught a fly in midair, examining it disdainfully before crushing it with her claws.

  Queen Myra wasn’t on the train? Lola clenched her jaw. What was she supposed to do now? How could she save her family?

  Overseer Rake glared at Taskmaster Lash. “Must I remind you that time is of the essence? Deliver the proclamation.”

  “Yes, of course, Overseer.” Taskmaster Lash bowed, without a hint of anger or distain for her snappy demand. He reached into a traveling case and pulled out a scroll, which he handed to Stella, daring to stick his paw into the sunlight for only a moment. “We are here to take possession of your fruits and vegetables.”

  Stella unrolled the scroll and quickly read it. “This is the queen’s seal. She ordered this?”

  Overseer Rake smiled, revealing her razor-sharp teeth. “You are not as simpleminded as you look. The entirety of your harvest will be taken, and an additional train convenience tax will be collected.” She turned to face the train and clapped her paws three times. “Rouse yourselves, you slimy scoundrels! Report for duty!” The rats groaned and grumbled with displeasure as they disembarked. Bob and Stanley followed, but stood off to the side, scratching their heads and looking confused. Back in the swamp they’d told Lola that they didn’t want to work for Tassie devils. But it was becoming apparent that working for the queen meant dealing with these bloodthirsty predators. Lola shook her head sadly. But why? Why was this happening?

  Stella looked up from the scroll. “What are the mice supposed to eat if you take all the harvest? We’ll starve, we will.”

  “It is not my concern if the mice do or do not starve.” Overseer Rake ran a paw over her white collar. “Forthwith, all fruits and vegetables grown in the Mouse Farmlands are property of the crown.”

  Stella stood as tall as she could and pointed the scroll at the overseer. “See here. This makes no sense. I’m the mayor and I demand—”

  In one swift motion, Overseer Rake uncoiled a whip from around her waist. She sent it outward with a loud crack, knocking the scroll from Stella’s paw. The rats stopped squirming, their ears and snouts alert; Stanley and Bob in particular jumped at the sound. Lola’s body stiffened. If the overseer flicked the whip again, Lola was prepared to run out, grab Stella, and carry her away to safety. Her heart pounded as fear pulsed through her.

  The taskmaster crept forward, collected the scroll, and returned it to the case. “Collect the harvest, you vulturous varmints!” the overseer ordered. The rats scurried off, their bald tails twitching with anticipation. Bob and Stanley didn’t follow. They looked around as if trying to figure out a new plan. The overseer glared at them. “Did you not hear me?”

  “We came to work for the queen,” Bob said.

  “Is that so? Well, I speak for the queen. Anyone who disobeys my orders will be arrested.” Overseer Rake raised her arm again and her whip smacked the air. “Fill the train, you swamp scum!” Bob and Stanley scurried to catch up with the others, confusion on their faces.

  Despite the sparkling, cloudless sky, darkness descended over Lola—a thick blanket of anguish and despair. The air had never felt so heavy. How she longed to burrow into the ground, to welcome the cool, damp embrace of the earth. To sleep and forget. To wake and find that everything was different.

  But the truth was evident. Tassie devils were on the loose, capturing wombats, forcing rats to steal—all under Queen Myra’s orders. Peace and quiet would never come again if Lola simply dug a hole and retreated. She had to act. Now.

  She scrambled to her feet and hurried out from behind the platform. The taskmaster’s eyes widened. “Excuse me,” Lola said.

  Stella whipped around. “Lola, what are you doing? Go into the cornfield with the others. This is not the time to be unshy.”

  “I can’t,” Lola told her. “I need to do this.” A musky scent wafted past. Is that what predators smelled like? She held back a shudder. “My name is Lola Budge and I need to get a message to the queen.”

  Overseer Rake slowly ran a paw along her whip. “You need to get a message to the queen?”

  “Yes.” Lola tried not to look at the whip. She tried not to tremble. She held herself as stiffly as she possibly could.

  “Don’t you dare hurt her,” Stella said. “She’s just a joey.”

  “Will you take me to the queen? Please.” It felt wrong to use such a kind word. These monsters didn’t deserve courtesy, but Lola needed their help, so she swallowed her pride and said it again. “Please.”

  “How intriguing,” Overseer Rake said. “You are either a very brave wombat or a very stupid one. It would appear that you are not up-to-date on current matters.” She held out her paw and snapped. Taskmaster Lash reached into his traveling case and handed a scroll to Rake, who unrolled it and turned it outward to face Lola and Stella.

  WOMBATS WANTED (ALIVE)

  BY ORDER OF HER MAJESTY, QUEEN MYRA.

  ONE GOLD COIN REWARD PER WOMBAT

  A sour taste filled Lola’s mouth. The horrid truth had been confirmed—beloved Queen Myra had turned against her most loyal and peaceful citizens. Just as this realization hit her like a sharp slap to the face, Overseer Rake cried, “Grab her!” The taskmaster was quick. He reached out, his claws curling around Lola’s arm. The overseer smiled. “You wombats are all the same. Easy prey, unadapted to modern times, you rely on the old methods to keep yourselves safe. Well, such times of hiding in burrows have long passed.”

  Lola struggled, but as she did, the taskmaster’s claws pierced her skin. Stella, however, was quick. With a swift kick backward, she sent the parasol flying. As the rays of the sun fell upon him, he shrieked and released Lola. Stella pushed Lola with all her might. “Run!” And that’s what Lola did. She bolted, as fast as her legs would carry her.

  Overseer Rake growled at the taskmaster. “You’re pathetic. You can’t do anything right. I don’t know why I keep you around!”

  “My apologies, Overseer. My only wish is to serve you.” He huffed, breathing heavily from the little scare. Overseer Rake had already moved on, turning her eyes to scan over the mob of rats.

  “A crate of food for the rat who captures that joey!” Overseer Rake cried.

  Three rats had returned carrying a basket of apples. Upon hearing the word “food,” they dropped the basket and let out a hungry cheer. Lola didn’t look behind. She didn’t need to. She could hear galloping rat feet as they took up the chase. She needed to warn Melvin and Blue, but the produce warehouse would be filled with thieving rats by now. What if Melvin was forced to join the others? What would happen to Blue?

  The rats leaped over the fallen fruit, scrambling on all fours to reach Lola first. She froze for a moment too long, and the first rat reached her, grabbing her fur and starting to climb up her body. Lola instinctively tried to shake him off, to no avail. Then Stella was there, having grabbed the rat and thrown him to the ground.

  “I told you to run!” Not waiting for a response, she pushed Lola hard in the side. It was enough to get her moving. As Lola rushed off, she heard Stella holler, “All right, lads, time for a beating, it is.”

  “Lola!” Melvin’s and Blue’s heads popped up from behind a stack of berry brew barrels. Lola skidded to a stop on the other side, hidden momentarily from rat view.

  “Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Why yes, I’m fine. I got rid of that flea. But rats stormed into the warehouse while I was flossing my teeth and began carrying everything away. Blue and I came to find you but some mice told us to hide
. Are there Tassie devils here? What’s happening?”

  “It’s bad, Melvin. Very, very bad.” She gasped for breath.

  “Bad!” Blue hollered.

  “I’m wanted. All wombats are wanted. Don’t come with me or you’ll be in danger.”

  “Don’t come with you?” Melvin stepped out from the barrels. “We’re in this together.”

  Blue seemed to embrace the same sentiment for he pecked at Lola’s foot. “Lola!”

  She didn’t want to leave her friends. But even though penguins and rats weren’t on WANTED posters, who knew what the overseer and the taskmaster might do? “Then let’s go. Where’s my backpack?”

  “The rats took it all,” Melvin said. “Your pack, my bucket and shovel. Everything.”

  Her storybook? Her letters?

  Thudding sounds approached. Some rats were getting close. “Climb onto my back.” Lola crouched as low as she could, pressing her belly into the dirt. With a grunt, Melvin managed to push Blue onto Lola’s back. Then he climbed up, holding Blue tightly with one paw while the other gripped Lola’s fur. “Hold tight,” she said, and then she burst into a gallop.

  Lola’s claws left furrows in the ground as she galloped with even greater force. She barreled down a path that cut through a wheat field. The only thing she could hear was her heart thudding in her ears. Stalks whipped past on both sides. She veered left, then right, then left again. She’d lost her pursuers a scant two minutes ago. But for how long could she maintain the breakneck pace? Lola knew she couldn’t go much farther, not with two critters clinging to her.