The Forbidden Expedition

by Alex Bell

  “Shay and Beanie, you mean?” Stella asked. “Good idea. Yes.”

  A plan started to formulate in her mind. “I’ll telegraph them to meet us at the Polar Bear Explorers’ Club as soon as they can get there.”

  “The club?” Ethan said, surprised. “But the president has refused to help.”

  “Yes, he has, but I’m still going there to get my tiara. We also need to find a map of Witch Mountain. The map room must have one, even if it’s incomplete.”

  “So you want to break into the Polar Bear Explorers’ Club and steal their maps and magic tiara?” Ethan asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “It’s my tiara, which means I have every right to take it, and I’m only going to steal one map,” Stella replied. “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out as we go.”

  Ethan sighed. “Oh, perfect—a figure-it-out-as-we-go kind of plan. My favorite. Nothing ever goes wrong with those.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  AS IT WAS LATE already, Stella and Ethan decided to sleep at the house and then leave for the Polar Bear Explorers’ Club first thing in the morning.

  Stella had sent telegrams to Shay and Beanie and then taken out her explorer’s bag, which had the club’s polar bear motif stamped on it, and a large backpack and packed everything that might come in handy for breaking into the club and then setting off on a dangerous and unauthorized expedition to Witch Mountain.

  She kissed Gruff, who was snoozing by the fire in her bedroom, and was just about to go to bed when she heard a soft tap-tap at her window. She turned to see a fairy standing hesitantly on the ledge. Stella was surprised because fairies were famously reclusive creatures and usually very nervous around humans. It was only the very rare person—like Felix—with whom they would have a conversation.

  Stella went to the window and opened it slowly, so as not to startle the fairy, and watched, entranced, as she tiptoed in over the threshold. Fairies always had the prettiest clothes, and this one was no exception. Her gown was a deep cobalt blue, puffed up over layers and layers of lace petticoats. The hem and sleeves sparkled like starlight, and dozens of tiny blue flowers were woven into her coal-black hair. She had a pretty, acorn-colored face; small, pointed ears; and bright green eyes. Her wings, though, were the most dazzling thing about her. Like butterfly wings, they were patterned in green and black, with midnight-blue tips.

  Stella could tell she was a messenger fairy because of the mailbag hanging from her shoulder and the peaked messenger cap balanced on her dark hair. Felix had told her that any letter written by a messenger fairy could be read only by the person it was addressed to. If anyone else were to see the letter, it wouldn’t even look like a letter but would take the shape of a button, a glass bead, an old penny, or some other innocuous object that might easily have been found rolling around in a pocket.

  “Hello,” Stella whispered as the fairy set her bag down on the windowsill.

  The fairy smiled, but she didn’t say anything as she took some small sheets of paper from her bag, along with a rather handsome feathered quill. She sat herself down on the window ledge (Stella noticed that her boots had glittery golden wings at the ankles), picked up the quill, hovered it over the top of the paper, and then looked at Stella expectantly.

  “Oh,” she breathed. “Are you offering to take a message for me?”

  The fairy nodded. Perhaps the fairies had seen Felix take off on the bone-eating vulture and wanted to help Stella rescue him.

  “Could I send two messages?” Stella asked eagerly. These messages would arrive faster than any telegram!

  Again the fairy nodded, so Stella proceeded to dictate a letter to both Shay and Beanie explaining what had happened, telling them about the poisonous rabbits, and asking them to meet her at the Polar Bear Explorers’ Club as soon as they could. She thought briefly of trying to send a message to Felix to warn him about the rabbits, but she knew that the fairy would never be able to catch up with a giant vulture.

  Once the letters were finished, the fairy folded them neatly, slipped them into tiny envelopes, and sealed them with a golden wax seal, which she stamped with a messenger stamp consisting of a pair of fairy wings. She wrote Shay’s name on one, Beanie’s on the other, and then, with a last wave at Stella, she fluttered out into the night and was gone, leaving only a smattering of sparkling fairy dust on the windowsill behind her.

  The next morning, Stella slipped on her warmest dove-gray traveling dress and went downstairs to confront Mrs. Sap. The housekeeper tried to convince Stella and Ethan to stay at home rather than going off after Felix, but once she saw it was useless she went and made them a packed lunch to take on the train instead.

  The junior explorers put on their cloaks—pale blue with a polar bear symbol embroidered on the front for Stella and black with a squid symbol for Ethan. Then Mr. Pash, the head groom, took them in the sleigh to catch the train. From the station they made their way to the harbor, where they were just in time to buy passage on the last ship of the day. They docked in Coldgate early the next morning. From there they had to make their way to the Polar Bear Explorers’ Club on foot.

  At last they arrived at the white gates with their gold-tipped spikes and majestic marble polar bear statues on each pillar. When Stella had been there with Felix, the gates had opened for them automatically, but this time they remained very firmly closed.

  “Now what?” Ethan asked. “How do we get inside?”

  Stella pushed hopefully at the gate, but of course, it was locked. She looked around until she located a golden button attached to some kind of intercom. She knew that Felix had visited the club many times: to consult the maps, to view the latest curiosities on display, or to exchange ideas with other explorers. Perhaps it was simply a question of asking to be admitted. She pressed the golden button, which buzzed loudly, and a moment later a voice came through the grate. “This is the Polar Bear Explorers’ Club. How may I help you?”

  “I’m Stella Starflake Pearl,” Stella said. “I’m a junior member of the club, and I’d like to come in to consult the—”

  “No visitors today,” the voice interrupted. “The club is closed.”

  “Closed?” Stella had never heard of such a thing. “But why?”

  “The president of the Jungle Cat Explorers’ Club is here on important business,” the voice informed her. “Come back next week.”

  And then the line went dead.

  “Well,” Ethan said, looking affronted. “No one would ever speak to a member of the Ocean Squid Explorers’ Club like that. Never. By the way, did you know there’s something wriggling around in your backpack?”

  Frowning, Stella swung the pack off her back, put it on the floor, and unzipped it. Buster immediately poked his head out and looked back and forth between them, blinking in the sunlight.

  Ethan groaned. “Why on earth did you bring your pet dinosaur with you?”

  “I didn’t mean to,” Stella replied. “He must have climbed into my bag when I wasn’t looking.”

  The T. rex had clearly had enough of being cooped up in a backpack because he squirmed his way out and landed in the snow with a flump. Stella reached out to grab him, but sensing that he was about to be imprisoned again, the dinosaur charged off—straight through the bars of the gate and into the grounds of the Polar Bear Explorers’ Club.

  “Oh no!” Stella cried. “Buster, come back!”

  But the tiny dinosaur stubbornly ignored her as it ran into the ice garden, roaring excitedly, leaving tiny T. rex footprints in the snow, and was promptly lost from sight.

  “Oh, that’s just great!” Ethan complained. “Now we’ve got an escaped dinosaur to contend with on top of everything else.”

  “Maybe I should press the buzzer again and explain that we need to come in to get Buster?” Stella suggested, already reaching for the button.

  “I wouldn’t,” Ethan said, grabbing her hand seconds before she could press the button. “Any animals found on club property legally belong to the club. My bro
ther had a fluffy wobbling penguin—”

  “What’s a fluffy wobbling penguin?” Stella asked eagerly.

  “Exactly what it sounds like. Anyway, it wandered off in the Ocean Squid Explorers’ Club once and ended up getting stuffed and put on display with the other animals.”

  Stella’s hands flew to her mouth, and she stared at Ethan in dismay. “That’s terrible! The Polar Bear Explorers’ Club would never be so barbaric.”

  “Well, if you’re completely sure of that, then why don’t you go ahead and press the buzzer?” Ethan replied.

  But Stella wasn’t completely sure. After all, the club could be a bit barbaric sometimes. They’d had a display of pinned fairies in the front entrance before Felix had campaigned for their removal, they still had skinned polar bear rugs, and they had wanted to stuff Dora when Stella had brought her back from the Icelands.

  “All right,” Stella said. “We’ll just have to think of another way to get inside.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ALMOST AN HOUR LATER Stella and Ethan finally reached the back of the Polar Bear Explorers’ Club. The property was extremely big, and it had taken them quite some time to walk around the marble wall.

  There they found a sleigh bearing the handyman coat of arms. Two men with gruff voices and beards had removed a grate from the floor and were standing on ladders inside, tinkering with something while complaining loudly about explorers.

  “… can always guarantee you’ll get an emergency call from the explorers’ club on what’s supposed to be your day off,” one of them was grumbling.

  Stella and Ethan walked past them to the back gates, which were rather less impressive than the front ones, although still firmly locked. When they looked through the bars, they immediately saw the huge dirigible parked on the snow, tethered by several anchors to stop it from floating away.

  “That must belong to the president of the Jungle Cat Explorers’ Club,” Ethan muttered.

  Stella saw at once that he was right. The large gasbag was painted with images of green jungle foliage, through which you could glimpse the occasional tiger, alligator, or hippopotamus. The wooden passenger gondola underneath was also carved with images of snarling piranhas, jungle riverboats dodging ferocious-looking hippopotamuses, and various ruthless Jinnish gods baring their teeth. A magnificent jungle parrot served as a sort of figurehead at the prow, wings spread wide and head held high.

  Ethan snorted. “All this adventurous, interesting stuff, but everyone knows their lot just sit around having expedition picnics all day.”

  “What is it this time, anyway?” the second handyman suddenly said behind them. “Penguin feathers blocking up the pipes again?”

  “No. Get this—they said some tiny dinosaur got loose in the club and bit a hole in one of the pipes. Caused all kinds of havoc with the plumbing.”

  Stella gasped, and the two junior explorers spun around from the fence.

  “Excuse me,” Stella said, stepping toward the grate.

  The two men looked up at her, taking in her blue explorers’ club cloak. “Yes, miss?”

  “I’m afraid that dinosaur is mine,” she said. “He ran away from me earlier, and he just loves biting things, including pipes. As soon as you fix this problem, he’ll only cause another one.”

  Both men sighed heavily. “We’ll be here all day and night if that happens. And I promised the missus that we’d have a romantic dinner at the Ice Yeti tonight,” he said. “I’ll be in the dog house for sure.”

  “Does this pipe have access to the club?” Stella asked, pointing.

  “Sure does,” one of the men said. “Comes right up in the saltwater baths.”

  “You’d better let us through, then,” Stella said. “Buster must be down there somewhere, and perhaps I can find him before he does any more damage.”

  “Do you think you could?” the man said eagerly.

  “Well, it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” Stella said. “Especially if it means you’ll make your dinner date at the Ice Yeti.”

  The man looked a little unsure and said, “It’s pretty wet down there. You wouldn’t want to ruin your dress.”

  “Oh, I have plenty of spare clothes,” Stella replied. Explorers could always be counted upon to be prepared, after all.

  “Just how smelly and dirty is it down there?” Ethan asked, peering at the grate dubiously. “I can’t stand places that are smelly and dirty.”

  Stella elbowed him hard in the ribs, and he yelped in protest. “My dad had lunch at the Ice Yeti last time he was in Coldgate,” she said a little desperately. “He told me that there are magic puddings in the shape of ice yetis that run around the table and sing you a song. And they wear little bow ties.”

  “Well, that settles it,” the first man said, slapping his leg. “My wife would absolutely love that.” He climbed out of the grate, closely followed by his partner. “You go ahead, miss. Anything’s worth a try.”

  “I’ll catch him,” Stella promised. “Don’t you worry.”

  And with that she ushered Ethan down the ladder before he could start complaining.

  It was, unfortunately, very smelly inside the pipe, and Stella had to keep the hem of her gray dress lifted high to prevent it from trailing in the dirty water that rushed around at their feet. Ethan, of course, complained loudly and obnoxiously the entire time, but Stella had become used to mentally blocking out his whining during the last expedition and hardly even noticed. Instead, she concentrated on navigating the tunnel, while also keeping an eye out for Buster.

  Eventually the pipe reached a dead end with a ladder attached to the wall. They climbed up, removed the grate at the top, and came right out into a drained pool in the club’s saltwater baths. Another huge pool steamed beneath a glass-domed high ceiling; white marble pillars stretched down to the floor, and ornate wall tiles were decorated with polar bears and the club’s official crest. Dozens of lit candles flickered away in glass jars and polar bear–shaped candleholders.

  Since they’d been told that the club was closed to visitors, Stella had expected the room to be empty, but in fact, there were two explorers there, both wearing swimming trunks and sporting sideburns that had puffed up quite alarmingly in the steamy heat. Fortunately, they were too preoccupied with the gaggle of penguins stubbornly refusing to be budged from the Jacuzzi to pay much attention to Stella and Ethan.

  “I can’t believe someone let the penguins in here again!” one of them was complaining.

  “It’s an outrage,” the other agreed. “You come in for a nice relaxing soak, and instead you’re met with a highly stressful penguin situation. It’s a wonder we’re not all suffering from nervous breakdowns.”

  He poked at one of the penguins with a lifesaver hook he’d removed from the wall, but the penguin just honked at him indignantly and refused to budge.

  “Not like that!” the second explorer said, snatching the stick from his colleague. “You have to poke them like this.”

  “No, no, no, that’s all wrong, Maximillian,” the other explorer complained. “Penguin poking requires more finesse than that. Look, here, allow me to demonstrate.”

  Ethan and Stella tiptoed past the squabbling pair and out into the corridor undetected.

  “That’s weird,” Ethan said. “I thought the club was supposed to be closed.”

  Stella shook her head. “Let’s just head for the map room. And keep an eye out for Buster.”

  As they made their way down the wide corridor, it became apparent that the club definitely wasn’t closed. In the billiards room, several explorers were drinking brandy, smoking cigars, and arguing about the best way to escape a rampaging yeti. The murmur of voices clearly came from other rooms too, and Stella and Ethan had to scoot past doorways rather quickly to avoid being seen.

  Fortunately, they soon found themselves at the entrance to the map room and quickly ducked inside. The huge place was full of dark wood, grand leather-inlaid desks, and green reading lamps. It reminded Stella of a
library, even down to its papery smell. Massive globes stood between the tables, and ancient maps and charts lined the walls in impressive frames.

  There were a couple of explorers there bickering over a place called Frogfoot Island.

  “I tell you, it isn’t there, Horatio,” one of the men said.

  “And I tell you that’s balderdash! I saw it myself. I even set foot on it!”

  “Well, I went to the exact coordinates and there was nothing there but ocean.”

  “That simply isn’t possible!”

  Stella and Ethan quietly crept past the quarreling pair. On any other occasion, Stella would have loved to explore the room properly, poring over the maps and sniffing the charts and spinning around in one of the spinning chairs, but there was no time for that today. She and Ethan lingered long enough only to locate the map to Witch Mountain. The maps were neatly stored on wooden shelves, in alphabetical order, so it didn’t take long to find the correct one, rolled up in its own leather map tube. Stella slung this over her shoulder before they headed back out in search of the trophy room.

  Unfortunately, neither of the junior explorers had been to the club enough times to get their bearings yet, and they weren’t too sure where the trophy room that held Stella’s tiara was. In their attempt to locate it, they eventually found themselves in the corridor outside President Fogg’s office.

  The sensible thing would have been to hurry away from there at once—since being spotted by President Fogg was really the last thing they needed—but as they crept past Stella clearly heard someone inside say her name. Ethan heard it too, and they both lingered to press their ears up against the door.

  “… if the girl’s dinosaur is here, then surely she must be too,” a male voice was saying. “The doorman said she tried to get into the club more than an hour ago.”

  “And was denied access, Wendell,” President Fogg replied.

  “Wendell! That’s the name of the Jungle Cat president,” Stella whispered to Ethan, remembering the letter she’d seen. “He’s made an official complaint about me being a member of the club.”