Braver Page 14

  “I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m Lola Budge. Alice is my mum.”

  Bale Blackwater’s expression fell until his eyes were wide and his beak hung open.

  Lola also felt astonished. Snarl had told the truth. The message had been meant for Lola’s mother. Did that mean everything else Snarl had said was true?

  “Mister Blackwater, did a Tassie devil pay you to deliver that message?” Melvin asked.

  It was quiet for a long moment, the only sounds made by Blue as he splashed in the shallows. Then, after a long sigh, Bale Blackwater sank onto a rock and buried his face in his paws. “Mister Blackwater?” Lola asked. “Are you okay?”

  “No. I am not okay.” His voice came even and low, no longer filled with the usual combative determination.

  She stood next to him, her fur dripping. Up close, Bale’s fur was sleek and glistening, as if it had been coated with oil. He smelled like salt water and mud. It was a nice scent. “Are you upset because you made a mistake?” she asked.

  “Course I’m upset that I made a mistake,” he grumbled as he raised his head. “Do you know why I’m here? Because I’ve been demoted to the Estuaries Division. The Platy Union brought me here on one of the steam ships, then dropped me off. No one wants to make deliveries in estuaries! There’s no good clean water and too much muck. The only place worse would be the swamp.” He looked sheepishly at Melvin. “No offense intended, swamp water rat.”

  “No offense taken,” said Melvin, who’d begun to comb through his fur with his paws. “But do tell, why did you get demoted?”

  Bale sighed, resting his bill on one paw. “I got demoted because I’m terrible at me job.”

  His lack of defensiveness took Lola by surprise. This was a very different Bale Blackwater. Gone were his arrogance and blustery way of speaking. He looked small and sad, arms hanging limply at his sides. “I’m the worst delivery platypus in the history of the union. One more screwup and I’ll get fired. I’ll be the only member of me family who never got a Golden Platy.”

  “But you said you had three Golden Platys,” Lola remembered.

  His flat beak turned down in a pained expression. “I’ve never gotten a single one. There’s somethin’ wrong with me electroreception. It’s wonky and makes it hard to catch me meals. That’s why I’ve been late with me deliveries. I was supposed to be in the Northern Forest weeks earlier.”

  Melvin stopped grooming. “Weeks earlier? You’re right, you are terrible at your job.”

  Lola took a step back, her thoughts spinning again. “If you’d come to the Northern Forest weeks earlier, then my mum might have gotten the message and everything might have been different. My uncle was trying to warn my mom, I’m sure of it. She would have had time to send a message back to him. And he would have told her about the escaped Tassie devils. My family, my neighbors would all be safe. I could be home, right now, curled up in my burrow.” The last few words nearly caught in her throat.

  “Did you say Tassie devils?” Bale Blackwater blinked at her.

  “A gold-toothed one came and took my family.” She pointed at him. “And you heard her at the stream. You ran away, leaving me there by myself!”

  “Now hold on, hold on.” Bale spread his webbed paws in the air. “I don’t know any gold-toothed Tassie devils. And I certainly didn’t know one was gonna take yer family. The one that paid me to deliver the message was a youngster. I thought he’d come after me ‘cause I was runnin’ late. That’s why I skedaddled.”

  “Wheeee!”

  Lola looked over at Blue, who wiggled his bottom happily as he splashed in the shallows. He was a fluffy little reminder that time was of the essence. She needed to get him home to his family because there was nothing worse than not knowing if your loved one was safe. There was no time to blame Bale or be angry that he’d been late. “We gotta go,” she said.

  “Agreed,” Melvin told her.

  “Where ya goin?” Bale asked, looking dejectedly over his shoulder.

  “To Dore.”

  “Well, yer in luck. The Royal Road is directly over that hill. And Dore itself isn’t all that long after.”

  Finally, some good news!

  Blue started kicking and hollering when Lola tried to coax him from the water. “Stop throwing a wobbly,” she said as she picked him up. “We have to go.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so,” she said, an answer she’d heard countless times from her own parents. It seemed to work because Blue stopped kicking. Sometimes there is comfort in not knowing the exact reason why, comfort in trusting. With no backpack, it would be difficult to carry him the entire way, but she had no other choice. Melvin helped put Blue onto Lola’s back, where he nestled against her fur. Then they began to walk away from the brackish bay, across hardened mud and up a sandy slope that was covered in clumps of tall grass.

  “If ya ever need me, I’ll make it up to ya,” Bale called. “I’ll give ya ten percent off delivery service if ya promise not to report me to the union.” They kept walking. “Okay, how about thirty percent off?” Still kept walking.

  “What good is a discount if you deliver your messages late and if you deliver them to the wrong critter?” Melvin called back.

  “Okay, okay, I’ll give ya a free delivery, just don’t tell the Platy Union that I messed up.”

  Lola had no intention of ever talking to the Platy Union. She didn’t even know where to find the organization. But this was an offer she couldn’t refuse. She stopped in her tracks, then turned around. “You’ll deliver a message for free?”

  “Yes. Platy promise.”

  “And it won’t be weeks late?”

  “It’ll be right on time.”

  “And it will be delivered to the correct critter?” Melvin added.

  Bale’s temper flared again. “Course it will!”

  Lola nodded. “I’ll hold you to that promise, Mister Blackwater.”

  19

  OUTSIDE THE GATES

  It was a long day’s travel with little conversation. Lola’s feet felt raw and her shoulders ached from carrying Blue. They made a few stops for water but otherwise plodded on, moving forward, pulled toward a destination like ants heading to their hill.

  And all the while, the dark cloud hovered in the distance, marking the place where Dore stood.

  Uncle Tobias is very near, Lola thought.

  The Royal Road, which had been mostly dirt and gravel up to this point, now consisted of bricks laid between thin strips of well-trimmed green grass. Geometric patterns swiftly became the norm, the road itself turning into an art piece. This was the road’s grand finale—a dazzling, dramatic welcome to the weary traveler.

  A dark-green hedge grew on each side of the road. Dozens of white mice, wearing green gardening aprons and holding garden clippers, stood atop the hedge. Leaves flew here and there as they trimmed. Statues also lined the road, towering monuments to rulers past. “King TheoDore the Wise,” Lola whispered to Blue as they stared up at the first king of Tassie Island. She’d read his story many times and recognized him from his long, braided chin hairs and the extra toe on his right foot. “Princess Amelia the Sure,” she said as she moved to the next statue. This young royal held an arrow in her paw but stared into the distance with closed eyes. “She was born blind but she became a champion archer.” Their stories began to dance in Lola’s head. She’d read about them so many times and now here she was, in the place where they’d lived and breathed.

  Since leaving Bale Blackwater, Lola had been trying to craft the words she’d say to her uncle. How do you tell someone you’ve never met that you are a blood relation and that you need immediate help? But surely, she consoled herself, as soon as she mentioned Alice and what had happened, he’d leap into action.

  The busy mice paid the trio no mind. At the end of the hedges the road opened into a rectangular courtyard. A great tree stood in the center, cracked from lightning long ago. Various notices and proclamations hung from its lowest b
oughs.

  BY ORDERS OF HER MAJESTY,

  A TAX HAS BEEN LEVIED UPON ALL BEYOND THE WALLS OF DORE

  TO PAY FOR THE GLORIOUS NEW TRAIN.

  BY ORDERS OF HER MAJESTY,

  A TAX HAS BEEN LEVIED UPON ALL BEYOND THE WALLS OF DORE

  TO PAY FOR THE GRAND GOVERNOR’S BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION.

  BY ORDERS OF HER MAJESTY,

  ALL MUSICIANS AND BAKERS ARE TO REPORT TO THE PALACE

  IN PREPARATION FOR THE GRAND GOVERNOR’S BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION.

  “I’ve never heard of the grand governor,” Melvin said as they stood beneath the boughs. There were dozens of similar orders spread about, each looking brand new.

  “Me neither,” Lola told him. They continued farther into the courtyard, then stopped to take in their surroundings. A towering stone wall encircled Dore, built generations ago during the invasion. While the late afternoon sun warmed the sky behind the travelers, the sky before them had turned dark, as if a storm had parked itself above the city. But there was no howling wind, no thunder or lightning. This darkness carried a pungent odor, of smoke, ash, and other things that Lola couldn’t identify. “What’s that?” Melvin asked, pointing to the far edge of the courtyard.

  “That’s the train,” Lola told him. It sat at the end of its tracks, empty of rats. But some of the wooden cars were filled with vegetables and fruits, confiscated from the Farmlands. Just as the queen had ordered.

  “What an interesting contraption,” Melvin said. “Imagine how it could carry my swamp skin products all over the kingdom.” He began to walk toward it, but Lola grabbed his arm.

  “Imagine how it could carry the Tassie devils all over the kingdom.” There was a tense moment of silence, broken only by light snoring from her back. “We don’t have time. We have to get inside the city.”

  They could only see one entry to Dore—two massive wooden gates large enough to fit the mythological elephant. The gates were ornately carved and decorated with golden letters spelling D-O-R-E. But they were closed. A guardhouse flanked each gate and inside each guardhouse sat a white rat, fast asleep. Each rat wore a fancy navy-blue jacket and hat.

  “Do you think we can sneak around those guards?” Lola whispered to Melvin.

  “I bet we can. Rats are notoriously heavy sleepers.”

  “Home?” Blue hollered groggily as he clung to Lola’s shoulder, awake from his nap at last.

  “Shhhh,” Lola told him. Fortunately, neither of the guard rats stirred. “We’re almost there, Blue, but you’ve got to stay quiet. Really, really quiet. Do you understand?”

  Blue opened his beak, a capitalized YES waiting to burst out, but Melvin was quicker and clamped the beak shut with his paw. Blue shook Melvin’s paw free. Both Lola and Melvin glared at him. He glared back. Then his beak opened a tiny bit and he whispered, “Shhhh.”

  Melvin stifled a grin. “What a surprise. I had no idea he could say anything that wasn’t followed by an exclamation point.”

  “Come on,” Lola whispered back. Then they started toward the gates.

  “Oi! The line’s over here, mate!” a squeaky voice called, prompting Lola to spin around.

  Sure enough, a line had formed to the right of the gates. About three dozen critters were standing in shade provided by the wall. At the front of the line were three mice holding flutes, an echidna holding a cake, and an elderly brushtail possum who was leaning on a cane. Melvin and Lola turned away from the snoozing guard rats and walked over to the critter who had called to them.

  “What’s this line for?” Melvin asked.

  “We’re waiting to be let in, we are,” the mouse replied with a twitch of his round ears. “Been here all day, we have.” His companions nodded in agreement.

  “But we can’t go in, we can’t. Not without the grand governor’s permission,” another flute-carrying mouse said.

  The echidna looked at them from beneath a pink bonnet. Her long gray snout trembled. “Oh dear, oh dear, I’m not sure if we’ll ever get in. This is a terrible situation. Truly terrible.” Her spikes drooped with worry.

  The old brushtail possum spoke next. “These gates were never shut before. Used ta come and go as we pleased. What kind of city shuts its gates outside of a war?” A tiny fiddle was strapped to his back. “I’m a citizen. This is my royal city as much as the next critter’s.”

  “I haven’t seen my son in five weeks,” a quoll said. He stood behind and loomed above the possum, grinding his teeth in worry. “He went into the city to work as a brickie and hasn’t come home since. I want to see him, but they won’t let me in.”

  “We need to complain to the queen, we do,” said another mouse, her black tail twitching far above her head, tickling the echidna’s snout.

  “Wish that we could, but no one’s seen Queen Myra in ages,” the possum said. “She’s abandoned us all.”

  Lola and Melvin shared a pained look. The possum had confirmed what they’d feared about the queen. She was up to something. “Why don’t you just go inside?” Lola asked. “The guards are sleeping.”

  “Oh, there’d be terrible consequences if we broke the grand governor’s rules,” the echidna told her. The frosted cake she was carrying on a tray had the words “Happy Birthday” written on it. “Truly terrible.”

  Lola was about to ask about this mysterious grand governor and his terrible consequences when the possum took a pair of spectacles from his vest pocket, set them onto his long nose, and squinted at Lola. “Yer a wombat. Ya best not let one of those guards see ya. They’ll take ya away. They’ll stick ya out in Woop Woop and make ya do hard labor.”

  “Oh dear, oh dear,” the echidna said, trembling so much that her cake wobbled on its platter. “Terrible times these are.”

  A noise drew everyone’s attention. A cart pulled by a dozen rats entered the courtyard.

  “You’ve got to hide,” Melvin said. He turned in a quick circle. “But where?”

  “Over here!” A wallaby waved from the end of the line and pointed at his cart, which contained loaves of bread.

  “I’ll stay and get information,” Melvin told Lola, doing his best to push her away but not really accomplishing anything other than ruffling her fur. “Go!”

  Lola hurried toward the wallaby, then ducked behind the cart with Blue still on her back. Melvin stayed at the front of the line to better observe. From her hiding place, Lola watched as the rats pulled the cart up to the gates. These rats were tan in color and smaller than the swamp water variety. The cart was filled to the brim with black rocks. “Coal delivery!” one of the rats hollered at a sleeping guard. Then he kicked the guardhouse wall.

  Sluggishly, the white rat emerged. “There’s no need to be rude about it,” she said as she arranged her jacket. “I heard you.” Then, with a loud grunt, she opened a smaller postern door that was set within one of the gates. If the guard hadn’t opened it, Lola doubted she would have known it was there, so perfectly did it blend in with the rest of the wood. The rats pulled the cart through. Then the guard pushed the door closed.

  “Hello!” the first mouse called to her. “We’re here to play music for the grand governor’s birthday, we are. Shouldn’t you let us in?”

  The rat guard put her paws on her hips and faced the line. “How many times must I tell you to stop bothering me? I don’t make the rules around here. You have to wait for Overseer Rake.”

  Lola cringed as the sound of the overseer’s voice filled her mind. A crate of food for the rat who captures that joey.

  “Where is Overseer Rake?” the quoll called out.

  “How am I supposed to know?” the guard called back. “They don’t tell us anything. They just tell us to stay here and don’t let anyone in.” Then she entered the guardhouse and closed her eyes for another nap. All the while, the other rat guard snored.

  Melvin hurried down the line until he reached the bread cart. Lola set Blue on the ground. He’d begun wiggling again and her shoulders ached from carrying him. “Did you hear?�
� Melvin asked.

  “Yes,” Lola replied. “Overseer Rake is one of the Tassie devils I saw at the train station in the Farmlands. She’s the one who ordered the rats to chase me.”

  “Then we’d better hope we don’t run into her,” Melvin said.

  The wallaby shook his head and muttered, “Never thought I’d see this day.”

  Lola kept hold of Blue’s flipper so he wouldn’t wander, though he started bouncing up and down instead. “We need to get past those guards. What can we do?”

  Melvin made a humph sound. “I didn’t endure all that dust and dirt and running and flying and falling just to be told that I can’t come in.” He ran his paws down his neck and chest, smoothing out his fur. “Wait for my signal.”

  Before Lola could ask any questions, Melvin made his way in the stealthy manner of all rats. He crept past the sleeping guards without a sound, then stood before the gates. Those in line watched with rapt attention, holding their breaths. Melvin grabbed the handle of the smaller door.

  A trumpet blasted. The echidna shrieked, dropped her cake, and then rolled into a ball. The mice musicians squeaked and huddled together. The two rat guards opened their eyes, leaped to their feet, and ran to the gates. Melvin had already stepped out of the way, watching wide-eyed. A series of trumpet notes sounded, a tune that might announce the arrival of someone important. The waiting critters began to stir with anticipation as the guards pulled open the gigantic gates.

  Lola gasped at what she saw. Then she ducked behind the cart, pulling Blue with her.

  Overseer Rake strode forward, her long black robe swishing against her legs. Taskmaster Lash followed a few feet behind her, carrying his black parasol and a scroll, his dark spectacles covering his eyes. The trumpeter, a mouse, scurried ahead, raised his trumpet to his mouth, and blew another series of notes. The overseer nodded at the guards, then turned to face the line of critters. “I am Overseer Rake, appointed by the grand governor. Come forward one at a time and state your purpose.”