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Lettie had no trouble starting the old Wolesley. From the upstairs guest room, I heard its motor sputter to life, choking and popping as it went into gear and drove my kind hosts and my mother out of the driveway and down the block.
I couldn’t see Lem from the window. I opened it and leaned out. The side door of the garage was open, the light bulb still burning. No reindeer stood within. Trimble was missing. Or was never here at all. All was still and quiet. For a few minutes, I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes. It was possible the whole episode was just a mad hallucination. I had heard about such things happening to others, especially at times of stress or grief. Was that it? I couldn’t discount the possibility.
I might actually have fallen asleep for a minute or two. By now, I was tired enough. But I was shaken by a loud thump, and the voice of Lem crying out, “Dire Damnations!”
That thump and cry came from directly downstairs. Lem was in the house!
I grabbed the lantern and loped down the stairs. I found Lem in the kitchen. He was standing on a chair. A wooden shelf, formerly attached to the wall, now lay on the floor, its contents scattered everywhere.
“What are you doing!” I yelled.
“Oh! I thought you were gone.”
“Of course not!”
“But everyone else, is, right?”
“Oh, I sure hope so,” I said. “Now, what’s happened here?”
“I need rations. Provisions.”
“Whatever for?”
“For running away!” Lem shouted. “Trimble’s gone! That means the F.A.B. got him! I know when it’s time to make myself scarce!”
He hopped off the chair, picked up his cloth sack, and began stuffing items from the floor into it: a tin of sardines, a jar of black currant jam.
“You can’t just raid Sissy’s kitchen!” I protested. “That’s stealing!”
“Look, you ought to go back upstairs. If she shows up asking questions, you don’t want to be held responsible.”
“She? You mean Sissy?”
“I mean My Lady, the Sorceress of the Southern Snows.” Then, Lem rapped himself on the forehead. “Oh! I did not say that. Pretend I told you it was confidential!”
“A sorceress. You think she’s coming here?”
“If she is, she won’t find me!”
PAK! PAK! PAK! Three loud knocks sounded on the front door of Sissy’s house. Lem raced for the kitchen door, ran straight into it, rebounded and landed on the floor. A tin of soup rolled out of his canvas bag.
“Lemuel! Are you in there?” I heard a voice say from outside. It didn’t sound like any sorceress to me.
“Oh!” Lemuel sighed with relief. “It’s only Flutterbold! Go see what he wants.” From the floor, Lemuel waved me on imperiously.
I peeked through the parlor window and saw another gnome standing at the door. This man had mottled gray hair and a bulbous nose. He wore spectacles and a green vest. A watch chain dangled from his breast pocket. This attire made him look altogether more sensible than Lemuel. I opened the door.
“Hello,” I said. “Lemuel’s here all right.”
“Are you human?” the formal-looking gnome said.
“Of course I am. And yes, I can see you.”
“So it seems. Are you a candidate?” he asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Then you aren’t. You would know if you were. May I come in?”
“I suppose. Not for too long, though. I don’t live here, and the people who do could be back any second now.”
The man Lemuel had called Flutterbold sauntered into the house, looking around with clear curiosity. He nodded and made approving hmm noises.
“A candidate for what?” I said, as soon as I caught his gaze.
“Sorry?”
“You asked me if I was a candidate. What does that mean.”
He made a sound that was half cough, half chuckle. “Highly confidential, young man.”
Of course.
“I hope Lemuel hasn’t been any trouble,” Flutterbold said.
“As a matter of fact,” I began, but then Lem was with us, answering for himself.
“If the boy says anything about me stealing, it’s nothing but slander. Or a misunderstanding. Whichever you like.”
“Lemuel!” Flutterbold peered over the top of his spectacles. “I don’t want to have this talk again. What is fit for humans is ...”
“Not fit for us, I know. I’ve put everything back.”
I glanced into the kitchen and saw that this was not quite true. The shelf still lay on the floor, assorted tins and jars in disarray. I left the two of them to talk, and I went to the kitchen to put things right. I heard Flutterbold excitedly say to Lemuel, “So, rumor has it you’ve captured Trimble!”
I put the shelf back up, and began replacing its contents, when I heard Flutterbold, from the nearby hallway, shout an aggravated “What!?”
“How could you have let him out of your sight! Lemuel, you’ll be arrested for this! And you’ll deserve it!” Flutterbold continued to harangue Lemuel as I left the kitchen, stepped past the two of them, and opened the front door.
“Gentlemen,” I said, “I don’t want to be rude, but...”
“Oh,” said Lemuel, “I guess we’re not wanted.”
“You’re not wanted,” Flutterbold said. “The lad knows a troublemaker when he meets one.”
“It’s not that,” I said. “But I’ve already upset my mother, and...”
“Say no more. I will get this nuisance out of your hair.” Flutterbold marched Lemuel out the door.
“It was nice meeting both of you,” I added as they walked down the porch steps. They said nothing more to me, but looked ahead to the street, looked at one another, shook their heads, and then scampered toward the back yard. I went to the kitchen door and watched two small shadows scurry away, past the well and the wooden fence. The sky was now nearly dark enough to hide them.
I sat in the parlor for a while, watching the pattern of light from the lantern flicker against the wall. I couldn’t decide if I should tell anyone about this home invasion or not. I knew mother wouldn’t believe me. I had the sense that Sissy might at least give a sympathetic ear, but then, no one is going to be pleased to learn that their pantry has been raided, even if by friendly gnomes.
PAK! PAK! PAK! The front door again. I looked out the window and saw that it was Flutterbold. I cranked the window open half an inch and whispered to him.
“What are you doing here?” I said.
“Ah. Hello again. It’s getting dark.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Lemuel and I need to find our way to the Moss Circle. It isn’t far from here. Not far at all.”
“That’s good, then” I said.
“But, we ... ah” Flutterbold was giving me the oddest look. I couldn’t guess what he was trying to get at.
“Is there something you need from me?”
“Yes! I’m glad you offered!”
“I didn’t offer anything. I only asked.”
“That’s just as good, and awfully kind of you.” He smiled at me.
“Well, what is it?!” I sounded just as impatient as I felt.
“The lantern! You have that lovely lantern, and it’s dark. We just need to get to the Moss Circle. It’s so close by.”
“I can’t let you have the lantern. It doesn’t belong to me.”
“And I wouldn’t dream of taking it from you! No, no, I was hoping you might accompany us with it. We’re very close.”
“How close?” I said. By even asking, I knew I was letting myself in for it.
“You won’t be gone five minutes. I promise.”
I closed the window, picked up the lantern and went to the front door. When I opened it, I found both Flutterbold and Lemuel standing side by side, smiling.
“There’s a condition,” I said.
The two looked at each other, then at me. “Name your condition,’ said Flutterbold.
“I want to ask a few questions, and I don’t want the answer to be that it’s confidential.”
Flutterbold removed his spectacles and held them to the side of his mouth. “I see. What do you think, Lemuel?”
“We can’t tell him everything!”
“But we could tell him a few things ...”
“A few, to be sure. But we must be careful. He’s not a candidate.”
“No, indeed, he isn’t.” Flutterbold placed his spectacles back atop his nose, cleared his throat and said, “Three questions. Choose them carefully. And ask them while we walk.”
“Five minutes,” I said.
“That’s right,” answered Flutterbold, smiling broadly. “We won’t be five minutes.”
I ran back upstairs and traded the dusty flannel trousers for a pair of short pants I had brought with me. I kept on the nautical nightshirt. I put on my socks and shoes, then returned downstairs, lantern in hand. I had no key with which to lock Sissy’s front door behind me, but I trusted Flutterbold’s word that I wouldn’t be gone long enough for it to matter.
The two little men led me through the backyard, and past a fallen post in the stockade fence. Not far around the other side, we found a footpath. There was just enough fading dusk that I didn’t need the lantern to see it. The path was narrow and twisting. I guessed it was mostly used by forest gnomes. Here and there, I spotted hoof prints. “The reindeer must have come by this way,” I said.
“Yes,” said Lemuel. “This is the path I took after I caught Trimble. I got hold of him by the Moss Circle.”
“What’s the Moss Circle?” I asked.
“Is that your first question?” said Flutterbold.
“Would it be confidential?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Lemuel. “But as that’s where we’re going, you’ll be able to see it for yourself.”
“Good. Then I withdraw that question,” I said. “Instead, I’ll ask this one. What is a candidate?”
“Fair enough,” Flutterbold said. “You may be aware that very few humans can see us, or hear us. The fact that you and I are talking right now means that you are exceptional.”
“Thank you, I think.” I wasn’t sure if it was a compliment.
Flutterbold continued. “Mostly, humans can only see us when they’re very young. Only the exceptional ones, mind you. As they get older, their ability to find us fades away.”
“Maybe it’s because they have a harder time believing in you when they’re older,” I said.
“Belief doesn’t seem to have much to do with it. Did you believe in forest gnomes before tonight?” Flutterbold stopped in his steps and gave me a hard look.
“No, I didn’t. Actually, I can’t say I’m a hundred per cent certain even now.”
“An honest answer,” said Flutterbold. “Admirable enough.”
Lemuel ran ahead a few steps and looked into the distance. The path had brought us closer to a copse of trees. On our left, the meadow swelled up to form a ridge. The path branched off onto a second trail that went up to the top of the small rise.
“We should go this way,” said Lemuel, pointing at the branch in the trail. It was a gentle slope, and the path went laterally up the side, never at too steep an angle.
“Fine, fine. As I was saying,” Flutterbold continued, “our invisibility is part of a spell. It’s a defense, conjured from the strange magics. And among those humans who do sense our presence, we select a very few in whom we place our trust and confidence.”
“Candidates,” I said.
“Yes. Specifically those approved by our boss. He’s human, by the way.”
“All right, then that’s my next question. Who is your boss?”
Lemuel held up a hand. “Think twice before you answer this one, Flutterbold.”
“I must decline.” The gentle-gnome adjusted his spectacles and gave a polite bow in my direction. “Technically, it is an offense to answer that question. I could be arrested.” He resumed walking, several steps ahead of me. He spoke loudly, as though to the air around him. “But sometimes I can’t help talking out loud to no one in particular! To the air itself, right?”
“Right,” Lemuel said, and he snickered.
“We work for a powerful wizard, whose name is known, but I will not name him. You have heard of him. He is famous, but not well understood.” He paused and looked my way to be sure I was listening. I gave an affirmative nod. “He lives far away, in a frozen fortress. He has dedicated his life to the causes of joy and merriment.”
The events of that Thursday evening had so far taken me utterly by surprise. At thirteen years old, there was still so much I didn’t know about the world, but I had been pretty confident about its lack of forest gnomes. I could never have foreseen that this night I would find myself asking, in all seriousness, my third question.
“Are you talking about Santa Claus? Santa Claus at the North Pole?”
“He is not Santa Claus. And it isn’t the North Pole. It’s something far more mystical and grand,” said Flutterbold.
“But it is very north of here,” added Lemuel. “And it is cold.”
“And that is your third and final answer,” said Flutterbold. “We’re almost at the Moss Circle.”
We stood at the top of the ridge. The path continued down the other side, into a field of wildflowers. I could just see the rooftop of Sissy’s house if I glanced back in the distance. From this spot, I just might be able to hear the chugging of the old Wolesley. If I did, it might even be possible to run back within a few minutes, perhaps sneak into the house and up the stairs, unnoticed. Alas, I knew my chances of getting in further trouble were much greater than my chances of pulling off such an exploit.
In the field ahead, I could make out an open area beyond the rows of flowery grasses. A dirt road connected several patches of tall trees half a mile beyond. I perceived a dim green glow, faintly illuminating some of the nearby flowers. Suddenly, a bright, yellowish ball of light bounced and moved, then shone directly into my face.
“Candlewax? Is that you?” The light came from an electric torch. The voice proceeded from none other than Clive Murney.
He was standing at the bottom of the ridge. I ran straight down the small hillside. “Clive! What are you doing here?!”
“I’m under orders not to tell,” Clive answered. “Besides, I should really ask you the same thing. I live here. You’re a long way from home.”
“You don’t live here, do you?” The Murney house was on another end of the city. I knew that much.
“No, not right here, Sherlock Holmes. I’m on a family outing.”
“So where is your family?”
“I can’t talk about it. So, shove off already.”
Lemuel and Flutterbold kept following the winding footpath, but they ran in order to catch up to me. “What ho!” shouted Lemuel. Flutterbold followed with an out of breath statement, “We’ve been discovered!”
“Watch out, Candlewax! I don’t know if I trust those two. Probably with the F.A.B.”
“Wait a minute! Who is this?” demanded Lemuel, nonplussed at finding another human here.
“This is Clive Murney,” I said. “I have no idea what he’s doing here.”
“Tracking an animal, if you must know. So are those two, I’ll wager. You had better believe I’ll be writing this all down, Mister Mannie Candlewax.”
“Write down all you like. If it’s anything like what I’ve seen, no one is going to believe it.”
“And just what have you seen? And who are this lot? And what are you doing here?” Clive was doing a remarkable job of sounding like an inspector in one of those crime thrillers from the cinema.
“These gentlemen are named Lemuel and Flutterbold. They’re not F.A.B.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“Pretty sure,” I said.
“Of course you’re sure!” Lemuel burst out. “You helped me to hide Trimble, remember?”
“You helped this rustler hide Trimble?” Clive said, with a palpable rise in tone.
“How do you know Trimble’s name?” said Flutterbold.
“I’m on orders to help protect him,” Clive said, sniffing with pride.
“You mean to say you’re a candidate?” Flutterbold looked completely stunned at the prospect.
“That’s what the letter says,” Clive returned, adding a lift to his chest and a note of hauteur to his voice.
“You’ve got a letter?” Flutterbold said, not hiding a hint of contempt. “Let me see it, please!”
Clive reached into the pocket on the left front of his red flannel shirt and produced a little white envelope. He waved it with a flourish. The little gnome swiftly snatched it from Clive’s hand and examined the address.
“Be careful with it, and don’t spend all night looking at it.”
Flutterbold gave it a once over, then handed it to me.
“It’s got an official seal. He seems to be a candidate.”
I took one look at the envelope and immediately saw the truth of the matter. It was not addressed to Clive.
“You give that back, then!” Clive said, and he moved to take it out of my hand. It wasn’t hard to keep it out of his reach.
“This letter is for Olivia!”
“She gave it to me!” Clive said.
“Wait a minute!” Flutterbold cried. “Do you mean Olivia Murney?”
“Yes,” I said. “Clive is her younger brother.”
“But, I was supposed to meet Olivia here!” Flutterbold stamped his foot into the dry weedy ground. “She’s a true candidate. I don’t know this blight!”
Clive rounded on Flutterbold and stuck out his tongue.
“Clive,” I said. “Did you take the letter from your sister?
“I’m telling you she gave it to me. Said she couldn’t be bothered trying to round up magic reindeers. She’s a little old for that kind of thing, now that she’s got to spend every waking moment with her fiancé.”
“Nate isn’t her fiancé,” I said, suppressing the urge to inflict harm.
“Shows what you know, old man.”
I removed a folded note from the envelope and opened it. In the light of my lantern, the ink on the page glinted with hints of gold. I read it to myself.
Dearest Olivia,
How delighted I was to learn from my spies that you would make an ideal candidate. I will require your help very soon. Certain forces are planning to heist my friend Trimble, the reindeer I wrote you about last month. I am readying my best agents for a counter-effort, but there is a task I think you would be best qualified for. My trusted agent Flutterbold lives in a forest near the Seventh Moss Circle. You must visit this mystical place. I know you’ve already been shown the way. Walk to the center of the circle, and you just may find a key. If you get hold of it, keep it with you. It may open a passage that will hide and protect Trimble.
I look forward to meeting you face to face very soon. I scarcely need mention that this matter remains Highly Confidential.
With Joy,
Kris
“To think I could have met Olivia here instead of you.” I put the letter in my pocket.
“You give that back.”
“I’ll give it to Olivia.” I said. He backed up as stepped toward him. “Where is she?”
“She’s off canoodling with Nate. I followed them...”
“Good. Then you can lead me to them now. Where are they?”
“They’re at some café. Never mind that. Last they saw me, they told me to go away.”
“I believe that,” Lem said.
“Don’t you start!” Clive said. “I don’t even know you and already you’re casting aspersions.”
“Fancy talk!” Lemuel said. “I don’t trust thieves.”
I had to laugh. “Careful there, Lem,” I said. “Your record isn’t exactly spotless.”
“I’d like that letter back,” Clive said. “I need to find this mossy patch. I want to get my hands on this key.”
“Is he talking about the key to the crossway passage?” said Flutterbold.
“Of course!” Lemuel cried. “That’s brilliant! If we can get a key from the Moss Circle...”
“Then we just might intercept Trimble!” Flutterbold finished. “My friends, we may not be beaten yet!”
“Didn’t you say you already caught Trimble?” Clive said, in the snottiest way he could manage.
“He got away from us, you opprobrious little brat!” Lemuel waved his arms about his head as he shouted.
“Opprobrious! I know that word!” Clive said.
“I’m not surprised. It was probably coined with you in mind!”
Flutterbold stepped between the two of them. “All right, that’s enough. Let’s keep our focus.” Then he turned to Clive. “Now, young man, I personally delivered no less than four communications to your sister over the last several weeks. Have you seen any of the others?”
“I’ve got all of ‘em,” Clive boasted. “That’s what she gets for not hiding things more carefully. Blame her, if you must blame anybody.”
Flutterbold flinched, as if pained by Clive’s attitude. It was a common response. “Did you read all of them?”
“Of course. Why do you think I’m here?”
“Why indeed. Did any of them contain a verse?”
“Yeah. One of ‘em had a soppy poem in it. Eeaugh. It was rotten.”
“Nonetheless, we need it. By any chance, did you bring those other letters with you?”
Clive paused just a bit before answering, “No.”
“Blast! Lemuel, we can’t get the key without our actual candidate.” Lemuel shrugged his shoulders at this.
“Oh, I know the awful poem, if that’s what you need,” Clive said.
“Do you,” replied Flutterbold.
“Sure. The worthy snows of Very North, so on and so forth ...”
Flutterbold’s expression perked up a bit. “He does know it! All right, quick! Let’s get to the Moss Circle!”
We had only to take a few steps. The Moss Circle was embedded on the ground, a layer of fine green moss that emanated a faint glow. The edges were scraggly and uneven, but the overall circle, some thirty feet in diameter, was perfectly round. Within the circle were the outlines of a labyrinth, formed by weeds and short grass. Toadstools sprouted here and there along the inner path. They, too, gave off their own faint light. Instinctively, I turned down the flame of my lantern. I wanted to see the luminescence of this enchanted circle as clearly as I could.
“It’s quite a thing to see, isn’t it,” Flutterbold said. “Let’s hope it will yield a key to the crossway passage.” He then motioned Clive to come over to him. “Young man, we don’t have time to retrieve the true candidate. So, we must rely on you. This is very important. Do you understand that?”
Clive had dug his notebook out of his small knapsack. He was busy jotting down a note. “Hold up a bit,” he said. “I want to get a few things down before I forget.”
“For goodness sake, do it quickly!” Flutterbold was reaching the breaking point where Clive was concerned.
“Called ... me ... opprobrious,” Clive said as he scribbled away. Lemuel seized the book, taking it from Clive in a lightning fast nab. “You give that back!”
“After you walk the circle!” Lemuel said.
Flutterbold pointed to a gap near the southernmost point in the circle. “This is where you enter. Simply follow the path of the labyrinth. It will take you to the center. It’s easy.”
“Then why don’t you do it?” Clive said.
“I can’t. The labyrinth is under enchantment. It is human magic, from Kris. Hands off for us gnomes. This task was meant for your sister. I don’t know if it will work with you.”
“Of course it will work!” Clive shouted. “Do I look like an incompetent?”
“You don’t want to know what I think you look like,” said Lemuel.
Flutterbold interrupted. “Enough! Listen, lad. I must impress upon you the laws of the Moss Circle. Never jump across lanes to shorten your path. If you do, there will be no key.”
“And if there’s no key, we lose all hope of finding Trimble again,” said Lemuel.
“That is right.” Flutterbold cleared his throat. “Once you begin, you must walk at an even pace all the way to the center, without stopping. If you stop, you must go back and begin again.”
“Why’d they make it so complicated?” Clive said.
“To keep scallions like you from getting the keys, of course!” Lemuel mumbled.
“Recite the verse, word for word, and the ground will yield your prize,” Flutterbold continued. “Once you are at the center, you may not try a second time. Please don’t take this lightly.”
Clive muttered something about getting it over with and stepped into the glowing path of the labyrinth. He looked askance at all three of us as he began plodding along the winding trail within the circle.
There were no split paths or blind corners. The single lane curved and looped along seven concentric rings, now closer to the center, now back at the edge, now to the center again. I could trace the entire route with my eyes. The pattern was simple, beguiling and beautiful.
When Clive had clomped with heavy foot through about half of the course, Flutterbold called out to him. “Say the verse.”
“I’m saying it in my head,” Clive hollered.
“That won’t do. You’ve got to say it out loud.”
“Fine,” Clive said, and he made his strides a little longer. He started chanting, bouncing his cadence with each large step.
“Poor Napoleon Bonaparte
Lost the fight at Waterloo
All his generals blown apart
While he dawdled on the loo!”
“What are you saying!” Flutterbold looked near to panic. “You’ll ruin everything!”
“It’s better than that codswallop about snows and love. I hate that!”
“I don’t care if you hate it. You’ve got to say it.”
“I don’t remember it.”
“You knew it two minutes ago!”
“It’s slipped my mind.”
By now, Clive had been stopped for several moments. “He’s going to have to start over,” I said.
“No chance!” Clive countered.
Lemuel ran straight to Clive, now just steps shy of the middle of the labyrinth. “Oh! This is too much!”
“Lemuel! You’ve broken the law of the circle!”
“Don’t see how I could make things any worse!” Lemuel said. “I just want to help the lad see reason!” He growled that last bit, making it clear that he was considering severe measures.
“Just stop where you are,” Flutterbold called. “Let the boy complete the circle. You, lad, try your best to remember the proper verse. You’re supposed to be helping us, right?”
“Right, but I wish you’d let me do it my own way,” Clive said. He stepped around the close rings of the inner portion of the circle.
“The worthy snows of Very North
Are something something ... Love and Joy
Bla bla bla, Happy Christmas”
Clive now stood at the center of the circle. “What happens now?”
To himself, Flutterbold muttered, “The ground opens and we’re all consigned to perdition.” More loudly, he said to Clive, “Is there anything lying on the ground at your feet?”
Clive stooped down and pawed at the ground. “Just weeds.”
“You don’t see a key?” Flutterbold said.
“No.” Clive stood up and folded his arms. “Don’t pretend this is my fault.”
Lemuel walked directly to the center and began digging into the soil. “Maybe it’s buried!”
“Stop that!” Flutterbold commanded. “Lemuel, get out of there at once! You too, lad.”
I had an idea, an insight borne of knowing Clive pretty well. “Wait a minute!” I shouted. “Lemuel, toss me that notebook.”
“Don’t you dare!” shouted Clive. “That’s mine!”
But Lemuel had already sent the little book sailing through the air. I caught it and knelt down next to my lantern. I flipped to the back of the book. Not far from the end, I saw what I was looking for.
“I knew you’d write it down, Clive.” I said out loud. “The verse is right here.”
“It’s too late!” said Lemuel. “He’s already made a mockery of it.”
“Let me try,” I said. I took a close look at the verse. It wasn’t hard to commit it to short-term memory. I stood, walked to the labyrinth and began pacing my way through it.
“He’s going to mess it up,” Clive said, and Lemuel asked him, not too gently, to put a sock in it.
Halfway through the twists and turns, I slowly spoke the verse. I kept the book open in my hand, in case I needed to glance at it.
“The worthy snows of Very North
Compel the stars and moons above
To shine more brightly back and forth
Their earthly message – Joy and Love”
I stood at the center of the circle. Clive was still there, looking disgruntled. I handed the notebook back to him. “Thank you, Clive,” I said.
Lemuel was now next to Flutterbold. “Do you see anything?”
I looked down at my feet. There were several clumps of weeds and wildflowers. I knelt down and parted the largest clump with my hand. In brighter light, it would have been easy to see the key. In the near-darkness, I felt it before I saw it.
“There’s a key!” I shouted. “No, wait! There are two!”
For in fact, as I tried to grasp the one, another came into view. I picked them both up. They were almost identical, each about the length of my palm, made of brass. They had cylindrical barrels, and the letters VN adorned the bow of both keys. There was a single difference. One key was straight, and the other was bent, its barrel at least forty-five degrees askew.
“Er, one of them is bent out of shape,” I said.
“So, the little guttersnipe did cast a spell,” Lemuel said to Flutterbold. “And he got what he deserved.” Then he shouted to me, “Give the bad key to the knucklehead!”
Flutterbold turned to Lemuel. “Please, Lem, be kind.” Then to me, “I fear he’s right. The young man did conjure a key. Let him take it. You, sir, may keep the fit and proper key.”
“How do you know that bent one is mine?” Clive asked.
“Call it a hunch,” answered Flutterbold.
I handed the crooked key over. “Here, Clive. Don’t know what you’ll do with it.” Clive opened his knapsack and dropped the key into it. I caught a glimpse of the other three envelopes he had swiped from Olivia.
“I would have got it right if you lot hadn’t turned up,” he sniveled.
“You could have got it right with all of us here. But you were too embarrassed to say the verse out loud in front of others. Isn’t that right?” I said, not without some sympathy. Clive made an unpleasant grunting noise.
“Shush! There’s somebody coming!” Lemuel was leaning to his left, cocking his ear. “From the trees,” he whispered. “Along the old road. Keep still a moment.” He ran over to the crest of the hill and craned his head forward, looking like the mast of a fanciful ship.
I heard the clomping of hooves and the clatter of wheels against the dirt road. A wagon appeared from amidst the trees, and an electric lantern put us in its spotlight. A deep, rough voice shouted “Whoa,” and the wagon came to a stop, just yards away from us.
The wooden cart was covered with ornate carvings, curlicues and figures of forest animals. Two reindeer, with antlers shorter than those on Trimble, pulled the cart. The electric lantern was housed in a wooden case crowned with a carefully sculpted goat’s head. The driver, as large as a grown man, wore a black robe and cowl. A black mask in the shape of a deer’s head covered his face. The effect was disquieting. Sitting next to the driver was a little gnome, smaller than the others. He wore a kind of officer’s uniform. Epaulets sat perched on his shoulders, and a pointed blue cap crowned his head. His face was clean-shaven, unlike the two gnomes I had already met. Once the carriage came to a stop, he stood up on the bench and gave a salute to Flutterbold.
“Old friend! Guten abend!”” The gnome in uniform shouted.
“Drillmast! Guten abend indeed!” Flutterbold said in return. “I had no idea you were on this island.”
“It’s a new appointment,” the official-looking newcomer said. He had a slight accent. German, I presumed, given his choice of greeting. Or perhaps he was Swiss. The little man jumped down from the driver’s bench, whisked over to Flutterbold and shook his hand rigorously.
“We got word that Trimble was captured, on this spot. I must congratulate you!”
Lemuel spoke up, smiling with pride. “That was me! I caught him just a few yards away, over there!” He pointed to his left. “I got the harness on him. He was no trouble at all. Trusted me completely.”
“Aha! This is gut! Where is he?”
“Ah!” Lemuel said, his brow suddenly knit in a tense mien. “Yes. You see, I took him to the well behind the old house.”
Drillmast looked at Flutterbold. “The well! That was your post tonight, yes?”
“It ... it was ...” Flutterbold stammered, “It was supposed to be. I arrived a bit late.”
“I secured Trimble in the small barn,” Lemuel continued, “where they usually keep the stink-wagon.”
“Stink wagon?” Clive said.
“Motor car,” I told him. “We put Trimble in the garage.”
“So he is there?” Drillmast said, his voice getting faster and higher pitched. “Why are you hanging around here if Trimble is over there?!”
“He isn’t there anymore,” Lemuel said. “He got away.”
“No! This is impossible!” Drillmast was so keyed up, he was practically dancing in place. “You had Trimble and now he is gone! We are going to be pickled! In jars!”
“But, he can’t have gone far,” Flutterbold said. “And we’ve worked the spell on the Moss Circle. We have a key now. Two of them, in fact!
“Though the one is probably rotten,” added Lemuel.
“We might find the F.A.B. if we get to the crossway passage. But we’ve got to go now!” Flutterbold pointed toward the tree line.
“Who! Who has the key?” Drillmast said, nearly frantic.
“I do,” volunteered Clive. “I’ve got the good one, anyway.”
“Don’t listen to him,” said Flutterbold. “That child is an interloper. He has illegally taken the place of a trusted candidate.”
Drillmast began to spin in circles. “Oooh! Every time one of you says something, it gets worse and worse! Silbersee! Silbersee!”
The large figure in black cloak turned his masked face to Drillmast and made a low, guttural growl.
“Silbersee, do you see any reason I shouldn’t arrest all of these felons right now?”
The deer-masked head moved slowly back and forth.
Drillmast stood stiffly and squared his shoulders. “Silbersee has authority as the voice of the law. I hereby arrest you, Flutterbold, for dereliction of duty.”
“Fair enough,” Flutterbold said.
“Lemuel, I arrest you on the charge of letting our precious quarry out of your sight.”
“We can get him back if we hurry,” Lemuel said.
“And you, little boy, what is your name?”
“Aristotle,” Clive said.
“Aristotle, I arrest you for impersonation of a trusted agent.” Then Drillmast turned to me, leaned in and poked my chest with his finger. “As for you, what is your crime?”
“I don’t think I have one,” I said. “I’ve got one of the keys. You can have it.”
“Sounds like a bribe to me,” said Drillmast. “Right, you’re arrested too. Everyone get on board!” Under his breath, I heard him say “Ja, pit roasted und pickled, that’s what I’ll be.”
Flutterbold and Lemuel climbed into the back of the wagon. Clive followed after them.
“Wait Clive,” I said. “Don’t get on. I’ve got to take you home.”
“But I’ve been arrested,” he whined.
“Let’s just leave these people to their own business. Our families are probably in a panic already.”
“I haven’t been gone that long. And Olivia told me to make myself scarce.”
“I believe that,” said Lemuel.
“You’ve got to get on,” insisted Drillmast.
“Have I?” I looked to Flutterbold. He seemed to me the most sensible of this group.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” he said. “Technically, I don’t think Drillmast has any authority over humans. On the other hand, Kris may need your help.”
“Careful there!” said Lemuel. “You’ve already said enough.”
“He has a key,” Flutterbold half whispered. “We need it, and we can’t use it. We’d better keep him around.”
“I can’t go with you,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I’m in enough trouble already.”
“But you’ve seen Trimble yourself!” said Lemuel, almost hollering. “Don’t tell me you weren’t fond of him!”
“He’s lovely, but I’m more worried about Clive right now.”
“Figures,” said the boy. “No spirit of adventure at all.” The black-cloaked coachman laughed at this. It was a deep, sinister cackle. I didn’t like it one bit.
“Clive, please come with me,” I said. “Let’s at least let the others know what’s going on.”
“No time, I’m afraid,” said Flutterbold. “Listen, we just need to find the Crossway Passage. It’s hidden in that forest. Your key may open it. And we just might rescue Trimble in the process.”
I sighed. “So, you’re saying I’m the only one who can help you.”
“Yes, it looks that way.”
“And you don’t know where this passage is.”
“Close by,” said Lemuel.
“We won’t be five minutes,” added Flutterbold.
“You said that before we came out here, and it’s probably been half an hour.”
“So, he didn’t lie,” said Lemuel. “Definitely wasn’t five minutes.”
“I’ll tell you what, lad. Join us for one drive-around on the old road,” said Flutterbold. “We keep our senses on alert. Maybe the strange magics will show us the passage. We take one circuit, no more. The road bends around and meets up with the noise boxes and ugly huts over there.” He pointed in roughly the direction of Sissy’s house. “If we find nothing, then we give up and drop you off. All right?”
I looked at Clive. “I’m going wherever you go. You need watching, and I won’t rest easy until I see you back with your family.”
“Poached roaches,” said Clive. “The last thing I need is you for a guardian.”
Drillmast stepped in to the conversation. “Everyone put your arms out to your sides. I don’t like to be intrusive, but I’ve got to check you all for weapons and illicit goods.” He went to Flutterbold first and patted his pockets. Then he rifled through Lemuel’s burlap sack, and made a few dubious noises.
“Ach! Human things in here. You are a thief. There are laws, Lemuel.”
“There’s nothing in there I can’t defend,” Lem said.
“I’m not so sure,” said Drillmast. “You make me uneasy.”
After Drillmast had patted down Clive’s pockets and checked his knapsack, he came to me.
“I haven’t got anything at all,” I protested, “except ...”
“Just a formality. No use getting snippy” He made quick work of his inspection, and then everyone got on board the wagon.
“One circuit,” I said to Flutterbold. “No more than that. And you can drop Clive and me back by Sissy’s house.” Flutterbold nodded his agreement, then placed his arms together behind his back, wrists held close. “Drillmast, you have not bound me, but I will act as if I am bound.”
“Danke. I appreciate it,” said Drillmast. “Not every prisoner is so courteous.”
“I hope you will pass word of my good behaviour on to her ladyship,” said Flutterbold.
A few moments later, Silbersee took the reins and started the two deer on their course. We, two gnomes and two children, rode in the back of the strange wagon. None of us looked too certain about the night ahead.