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They had barely just materialized when Merlin instructed them to align their wheelchairs so they would look like an attentive group of students. He wiped his forehead, sighed, and then with a look of resignation, he opened the door. Arthur glanced at the clock, noticing that only ten minutes had passed since their departure. And then he saw his mother enter the room, preceded by the principal who looked quite irritated. He reprimanded Merlin for taking so long to open the door.
Unprepared for such a situation, Merlin looked to his students in a silent plea for help. Superstition had gotten the better of him. He had feared that preparing for this foreseeable circumstance would invite it to happen. In this particular case, he had responded to the wrong precaution.
Merlin was rescued by Arthur’s mother who captured everyone’s attention when she rushed over to her puzzled son. She knelt down to face him at his height, a submissive reflex common among mothers. With one hand she lifted up his downcast face, and with the other hand she smoothed back the bangs that clung to his eyes. Then she spoke in a voice hoarse from holding back so much sadness and anguish.
“It’s your father, Arthur. He had an accident on the way to the office this morning. On the highway. He’s in the hospital. He...”
She stopped and swallowed, looking pained. Then, one hand still suspended in air near her son’s face, she forced herself to continue.
“He’s in critical condition, Arthur. Do you understand? You have to come with me right now, because...because...”
She was incapable of finishing her sentence, her eyes already drowning in tears.
Arthur grabbed his mother’s hand and murmured, “I’m coming with you, Mom.”
He then turned towards his classmates, trying hard to control his emotions, and asked them to wait for him. He didn’t have to say anymore—they all understood the meaning of his request. The two of them left, without it being clear who was supporting whom, as his wheelchair moved forward.
Arthur’s father was in charge of the local branch of an insurance company. Arthur had two older sisters, two tall girls, who had golden blond hair and wore glasses. They had married farmers, two brothers, and had been living in the countryside for several years, just a few hundred yards from one another. They were perpetually surrounded by swarms of children, and even the parents couldn’t always tell which child belonged to which couple. Arthur had been born to older parents. Doctors used this reason to explain Arthur’s condition. They had talked about cerebellar ataxia, muscular weakness, and problems with balance. What he knew was that he had coordination problems and would never be able to stand or walk. His mother, naturally a very loving person, cherished him dearly. She lavished on him all the love she couldn’t give to her faraway daughters. But her husband was her world, and she couldn’t imagine living, or any kind of love, without him, even if it was in her nature.
Arthur’s father had suffered a heart attack while driving. He had been lucky enough to miss hitting several cars, but then had slammed into a utility pole. It had taken rescue workers a long time to pull him out of his car. At the hospital, surgeons had spent hours hunched over his body picking out pieces of metal and glass lodged in his flesh, closing the wounds with stitches, and attempting the impossible task of keeping him alive. The impossible had been achieved. He was alive. In a coma, hooked up to a machine with tubes going everywhere, incapable of breathing on his own; but he was alive. That’s all Arthur’s mother needed to know.
The following week, after being absent for several days, Arthur returned to school. He had history class that day.
He had only missed one “class”, and during this time his friends had refused to travel without him. Titiana had been the one to explain to Merlin how they felt.
“We go together or not at all. We need Arthur and even his clumsiness. The circle must be complete. That’s the only protection we have when we’re on the far side of the universe. You already know it even if you haven’t said it; those who travel there must reunite in order to come home. We’ve decided to apply this principle to the opposite direction.”
Merlin had no choice but to agree. He couldn’t make them cross over, even if he had wanted to. When he walked into the room, he was quite relieved to see Arthur’s head of tousled hair and the perpetually falling glasses.
His father was still in a coma. Doctors weren’t optimistic about his condition. The collision had been brutal, and his brain had been deprived of oxygen for several precious minutes before rescue workers had been able to free him from his car. His wife refused to hear any of it and spent her days and nights by his side talking to him and trying to pull his mind out of the fog. And Arthur hadn’t left her side since she had checked him out of school during history class.
He had heard the doctors talking and understood that his mother’s stubbornness could be unhealthy for her. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone for very long, fearing that during his absence his father might swing to the wrong side of the border between the living and the dead where there was no return. Arthur didn’t want his mother to be alone during that moment. But he had a mission to undertake with his classmates, and he couldn’t abandon them either. Though he wouldn’t admit it, it was a way of escaping the suffocating atmosphere of the tiny hospital room where his father oscillated between life and death.
He arrived that day with pursed lips and clenched teeth, trying hard to resist drowning in the waves of emotion he’d felt since his father’s accident. His friends saw an unsmiling Arthur for the first time ever. Sunnyville was a small town, and everyone knew about his father’s condition. They took turns showing they cared by offering what little comfort they could. One by one, his classmates placed their hand on his as a way of sharing their strength with Arthur. Sara and Albin who surrounded him as they were about to depart, squeezed his hand a little stronger than usual. Just so he knew he wasn’t alone.
When they arrived on Lalea, it was still morning, but which one? They headed in the direction of the village, making an effort to walk along the outskirts. They walked as fast as possible. Thanks to Albin, they knew how to get to Nonia. Albin had made sure that all pertinent details about Lalea had been written down in a notebook. He’d also included a short summary of all their trips, letting each person record their thoughts. He had written from memory the directions le Cambraire had given them, as well as a description of the people in Clairfilet. Before beginning his travelogue, he had spent a long time discussing with Merlin if he could cross over with the notebook. He had finally settled on a notebook with paper processed with the least amount of chlorine. Lucky for them, an environmentally-friendly office supply shop had just opened in Sunnyville. During Arthur’s absence from school, they had filled the notebook with all the necessary information. Merlin, the first to write in it, compiled the information Albin had provided. So with notebook in hand, they were able to follow le Cambaire’s advice as they headed to Nonia.
After about thirty minutes, they came to a small, well-worn dirt path that wound aimlessly through a grassy meadow. They didn’t notice any farmland or forest, just tall grass gently swaying in the breeze. Some birds were flying in the sky, but too high up to recognize what kind or to compare them to their birds at home. The meadow was silent under the rising sun. Under the suns, as Sara quickly pointed out. Four suns rising up from the horizon into the blue sky at each of the cardinal points of the compass. Cosmo, their dedicated astronomer, observed their trajectory and pointed out that the suns would come together when they reached their zenith. He was curious to see what would happen. Albin made a mental note to add to his notebook that multiple suns meant they had no way of knowing in which direction they were heading.
They traveled at a steady pace, their footsteps stirring up clouds of dust that followed them a ways before settling back down to the ground in wait of future travelers. Though the scenery stayed the same, it felt calm and peaceful. Only Arthur remembered that in that very place, monsters came out of hiding at night to devour and tear apart any creature they met. But it was still daylight, and he knew he should focus on more serene thoughts. Yet he couldn’t seem to shake off the feeling that they were being watched. Often, he turned back around to keep an eye on the empty trail lined by grass where grinning sharp-toothed gnomes could easily hide. He never caught a glimpse of anyone. It wasn’t long before his nervousness began to amuse his travel companions, making him a target of jokes. Only Titiana came to his side, whispering to him so softly he had to strain his ears to make sure he heard her correctly when she said that she understood him. It even seemed she had held his hand, just for a split second, such a light and quick movement that he wasn’t sure it had really happened. Yet even after she moved back to her place in front of him, he savored the refreshing and sweet feeling in his palm for several minutes. He kept his hand closed for the rest of the journey to Nonia so he could preserve the sensation. Nothing in Titiana’s demeanor gave him any hint as to whether or not he had imagined her holding his hand. The only extra attention he received was when they reached the village, and Titiana, whose blond hair shimmered for a second in the light of the suns, turned around to smile at him. That was the moment he fell in love with her. Forever.
Nonia was bigger than Clairfilet, its dusty roads a lovely shade of white crushed seashells. The houses were taller and were adorned with colorful pieces of fabric that floated in the wind. Each home had its own flag waving from a light-colored wood pole. The cloth strips were intertwined in such a way that even Cosmo couldn’t figure out a recurring pattern. It was market day, and the main square where all the roads met together was overflowing with shoppers eyeing the goods and bargaining. It was busy enough for them to slip by unnoticed. A building stood out from the rest, a big white house similar in many ways to the home in Clairfilet where le Cambraire had recently entertained them.
Le Cambraire had told them that the man they were seeking could be found showing off his muscular physique during public gatherings. This market had undoubtedly attracted the majority of its citizens. It would be too risky for them to spread out and search the area. Merlin had insisted that they never separate under any circumstances. They walked in a group, each straining their necks to be taller in the crowd and catch a glimpse of a man who was big, muscular, and scarred. Arthur was the first to see him as he leaned down to help a merchant pick up a toppled apple stand. A crowd of people had moved aside when the apples had tumbled, opening up the view just enough for Arthur to catch sight of an extremely tall man several feet away from him who was carrying eight children on his shoulders and in his arms, brothers and sisters judging from their matching clothing. The man was wearing a purple cloth mask that covered half his face.
Arthur yelled out to alert the others, which succeeded in attracting the attention of curious bystanders. Albin sighed. It should be written down that on Lalea it was impossible to enter any town unnoticed. It didn’t occur to him to thank Arthur for having found the man. Instead, he began lecturing him about the mistake and his lack of self-control. Titiana stopped him and led them towards the man with the scar.
As they approached him, he spun around with his children who screamed with glee mixed with fear and excitement. He smiled with amusement as he watched his children; meanwhile his worried wife could barely stop herself from running to grab them. Waiting next to her was a strange looking doll that looked a lot like the one that had held Arthur’s hand in Marie’s kitchen. He saw that more than a few were scampering around the market square, mostly next to children. A few people visibly backed away when they noticed that the travelers weren’t accompanied by schlirbs. Since they hadn’t yet traveled through the forest, Arthur didn’t understand. Before he could think much about it, the masked giant put down the children his was carrying, much to his wife’s relief who hugged them tightly and ignored their struggles to get free.
Albin chose this moment to call out to him, though he wasn’t sure what to call him or what to say.
“Hey, sir!”
“Yes, young friend. You’re a little too old for me to carry on my shoulders, wouldn’t you say?”
The man gave them a friendly look, clearly less curious about them than the other villagers. He was wearing tight-fitting pants and no shirt, the better for showing off his extraordinary muscles. Albin and the rest had to force their eyes upward to meet those of the giant. Or rather tilt their heads backwards. Unlike Merlin’s description of Scarface, this man’s head was shaven, but his hair hadn’t been the distinguishing clue. The giant calmly waited for him to continue. Albin swallowed hard, realizing he didn’t know how to word his question. Sara, following her common sense, chose the only question that would give them a definitive answer. She asked him if he knew Merlin.
The man didn’t know anyone by that name.
“Why are you looking for Merlin? Is he a relative of yours?”
“Not exactly. In fact, he’s the one who asked us to find one of his friends. He told us that he was tall and that he had a scar on his left cheek. He couldn’t remember where he lived, nor could he remember his name. We’d kind of hoped it was you.”
“I see. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help. Your search could prove risky in my opinion. I wish you all hirse.”
“Do any of you have any idea what hirse is?” Albin asked them as soon as they’d left.
“I have absolutely no idea,” Sara said with a giggle.
“I hope he didn’t wish for something bad to happen to us.”
“No, I don’t think so. He seemed nice.”
Cosmo interrupted them to say, “Perhaps we should have asked him.”
“You always want to know everything.”
“Why not? You’re not the least bit curious, yourself?”
“Of course I am. But knowing the meaning of hirse isn’t my top priority in life.”
“Well...”
Cosmo was disappointed that he hadn’t been able to find out about hirse, but he knew it was useless to argue with Albin. In the real world, he took great delight in cornering Albin in a debate, but he didn’t feel like continuing it here on this far side of the universe. He would have to find out about it by himself.
Lalea’s hirse was a mythical herb said to grow in a meadow surrounded by trees in the heart of the dark forest. There was no path leading to the meadow. With luck, it could be found while meandering through the woods. The meadow was imperceptible from even a few feet away, and then would suddenly appear out of nowhere. Supposedly, hirse flourished there and bestowed courage and luck upon the one who found it and successfully brought it back home and planted it.
What the story failed to mention was that it required extreme courage and luck to discover hirse.
Disappointed, they made their way past the giant who already had more children impatiently waiting for him. Turning around again, Albin thought he saw a streak of red hiding behind the crowd of kids. Albin, quick by nature, took several steps and then spun back around just as Achilles jumped behind a barrel of brackish water full of green yarn. Having knocked over the barrel in his haste, Achilles stood up looking sheepish and soaked.
Albin grabbed him by his shirt collar and shook him just before the merchant could catch him.
“I’m so sorry, sir. This is my little brother. Such a little rascal. He was supposed to stay home, but it seems he followed us anyway. I can assure you he’ll get a serious thrashing when our father finds out.”
The merchant, not very upset, replied that there wasn’t anything to worry about. He said he remembered the good old days of his youth. As for the barrel, it was already falling apart, therefore no harm done.
Albin thanked him profusely and led Achilles along with him. The young boy quickly jumped up, ready to defend himself. Sara took over the questioning.
“Are your parents here?”
He responded by shrugging and shuffling his feet in the dirt.
“No, right? And I bet that don’t even know where you are. Am I wrong?”
“Nope...no.”
“Then you might want to explain what brought you here.”
“I saw you. I was with Romain, that’s my friend. I told him to wait until someone was looking for me and only then to tell my parents where I was.”
Seeing that they were all looking at each other and shaking their heads, he continued.
“You can trust him, you know, he won’t say anything. He’s my best friend. We’re in classes together. He’s better at singing, but I’m better at woodworking. I’m quite good at it, you see, I could even help you.”
“It would be better if you went home. Your parents will be looking for you, and we can’t take you with us.”
“But you come from far away...I want to go with you, please. I promise to be good and behave. Me too, I want to save the world.”
“Save the...listen, Achilles, you would be doing us all a favor if you went home.”
“That’s not true. You’re just saying that to get rid of me. I’m not that stupid.”
Sara sighed, so Arthur considered it his turn.
“Look, you’re the oldest child in the family, Achilles. Your brothers and sisters need you to take care of them. Your mother is expecting another baby and she’s weak. You need to teach them about the....the woods, you need to show them how to play tricks without getting punished. You have to make sure they don’t go out at night so that nothing bad happens to them. They need you. That’s your mission. And you’ll be helping us if you fulfill it.”
Achilles hesitated.
“Are you sure? It’s true that they’re young and don’t know how to do much for themselves. But I want to be a hero.”
“You’ll be their hero.”
“OK. But when I’m bigger...you’ll take me with you?”
“We might not be here then, Achilles. We’re just passing through, you know.”
“Obviously, that’s how the legend goes. I promise I’ll never forget.”
Achilles said farewell to them one by one, and then bravely turned back to rejoin his family. The others had to keep moving.
They waited until they were away from the market place and in a secluded area where they could talk without worrying about being overheard. The small path was deserted except for a few crates and barrels. Not even a hungry, scrawny cat to size them up.
Sara looked at each of them. She asked the question that they were all thinking.
“So now what are we supposed to do?”
Albin responded angrily, “What do you want us to do? We don’t have any more directions! We certainly can’t go from village to village in hot pursuit of a person that nobody has even heard of.”
“There might not be so many villages. We don’t know how big Lalea is. Maybe it’s really small.”
Arthur’s remark left them speechless for several seconds, and then they all shook their heads at the same time. If Lalea were so tiny, someone like Scarface wouldn’t go unnoticed; in fact everybody would know him. They had no other choice but to continue their journey and question countless numbers of people. Which could end up taking quite a bit of time.
Suddenly, a small man jumped out from behind a pile of barrels. He seemed even shorter because of his hunched back. His limbs also looked weak and scraggly. He was wearing dingy-looking clothes altered to his size and a tiny felt hat perched on the top of his head. He headed nimbly towards the group of five, lightly skipping as if he had marionette strings attached to him.
Surprised, they didn’t make a move until the strange man stopped in front of them, and in mock courtesy, had bowed so low that his hat brushed the ground, revealing a tuft of brown hair.
Albin was visibly outraged and spoke to him without a speck of courtesy.
“Who are you? And how long have you been spying on us?”
“I’m called the Duc because the Duc can withstand torture. The Duc knows where the man is that you’re seeking.”
The Duc’s voice was nasal and annoyingly shrill. Albin couldn’t listen to it without grimacing.
“How can you be so sure?”
“He’s tall with long hair. He has a long scar on his left cheek. And he happens to know some foreigners. The only name he goes by is Scarface. He’s the right one?”
The Duc spoke in an openly sarcastic tone of voice that Albin wanted to shove him up against a wall to take him down a notch. It was the first time in his life that he could have done it, but he withheld the urge because they needed the Duc. A gust of wind began to blow down the path, causing a tingle from his back up to the nape of his neck. He continued his questioning, ignoring Sara who tried to interrupt him.
“Yes, that’s him. Do you know where we can find him?”
“Albin...”
“Shut up Sara. I’m all ears, Mr....the Duc.”
The Duc squinted his weasel-like eyes in concentration. Then he slowly smiled, stretching out his thin, red lips to reveal sharp, yellow teeth.
“The Duc believes we should continue this discussion at a later time.”
“But why? I don’t get it!”
“The Duc recognizes the signs. Even if it’s been a long time since he’s seen them. The passage is opening. It’s time for you to leave.”
“But how...”
“Time’s up. Stop by next time to visit the Duc. He’ll be waiting for you. He’ll be at the farm on the west side of Nonia. The Duc knows how to be patient.”
He slipped away as quickly as he’d arrived. He was right; the passage was impatiently waiting for them. After checking to see that no one was nearby, they returned to the world they had left.
