Braver

by Suzanne Selfors

  “Hurry up!” the overseer called. When they caught up to her, she glared at them. “I will tell the grand governor of your arrival. But if you decide to leave before I return, I want you to know that I will personally hunt you down.” She licked her lips menacingly. Lola shuddered. “Step aside,” Overseer Rake ordered. A pair of white rats who’d been guarding a door slunk away at the overseer’s command. She smoothed her embroidered robe, then entered the room, shutting the door behind her.

  The rats gave Melvin a long, curious look. “You come for a job in the Royal Guard?” one of them asked.

  “Is the Royal Guard looking for a stylist?”

  “I don’t know about that, but what I do know is if you work for the Royal Guard, the queen feeds you all the food you want. Fresh food, rotten food, whatever suits your palate.”

  “The queen feeds you?” Lola asked. “Have you met her?”

  “Haven’t seen her since we arrived,” the other rat replied, scratching her head. “Come to think of it, no one has seen her. But we’ve been told that we’re working for her, and the governor works for her, so there you go.”

  Melvin pulled Lola aside. “What’s the plan?” he asked.

  “To tell my uncle everything,” Lola said. “He’ll help us. I’m sure he doesn’t know what the queen has done. He would never allow my parents to be taken from our burrow.”

  “Home,” Blue whimpered as he slid off Lola’s back.

  “Soon, Blue, soon. My uncle will send you home.”

  One of the rat guards frowned at Lola. “No, he won’t. He won’t help you. He doesn’t—”

  “Shut it,” the other rat told him. “Don’t say anything bad about the grand governor or we won’t get our supper.”

  The door swung open. Dazzling light, golden and warm, filtered into the hallway. Lola stood on tiptoe, trying to get a view inside. But the light was soon blocked by a lean silhouette. The overseer stepped out, looking more perturbed than ever. A growl hummed in her throat and one of her eyes twitched. “This doesn’t look good,” Melvin whispered.

  Lola took Blue’s flipper in case they needed to make a hasty retreat.

  “The grand governor will see you,” Overseer Rake said through clenched teeth. “All of you.”

  22

  THE GRAND GOVERNOR

  Lola could barely contain her nerves. She felt tingly all over, but not in a good way like when anticipating a birthday present. Anxiety bubbled in her stomach. Worry. Dread. What if her uncle couldn’t…? What if her uncle wouldn’t…? She shook her head, trying to push the negative thoughts away. All she had at this moment was hope. And hope is what moved her feet forward, one at a time. An unshy wombat had traveled all the way to Dore and was about to meet another unshy wombat who’d made the same journey years ago. If only this meeting were under better circumstances.

  This room was cozy and filled with luxurious possessions—a velvet sofa and a matching wingback chair, a table with a lace tablecloth, shelves filled with fancy vases and seashells. Crystal sconces held lit beeswax candles and a grandfather clock stood in the corner. There were marble statues, bejeweled boxes, and sparkling mirrors. Lola had never seen so many things crammed into one room. But what stood out most was the gold. Golden chains hung from the drapery; golden dishes, golden frames, and golden bowls gleamed. A desk drew Lola’s gaze to the side of the room, for it had been carved in the way of wombats. Lola’s heart jumped.

  A wombat was seated behind the desk.

  He was a fat wombat, in a midnight-blue dinner jacket. He wore gold rings on his fingers and a gold chain around his neck. His chin hairs were long and waxed into a pointed beard. Upon seeing Lola, he stood, stepped around the desk, and reached out his arms. “My dear niece. How delightful it is to meet you at last.” His smile was kind, his voice inviting. “Come give your uncle a hug.”

  In an instant, all of Lola’s anxiety and fear washed away. Lola rushed into her uncle’s embrace without a word. At the feel of another wombat’s arms around her, she burst into tears. He smelled familiar. He smelled like home. This was her uncle, her unshy uncle who was just like her. And he didn’t seem to mind that the hug lasted a long time. Finally, he released his arms and stepped back. “Let me get a look at you,” he said. “Well, well. You’re the spitting image of your mum.”

  Lola sniffled and wiped her tears. “Thank you.”

  His gaze traveled beyond her face. “And who might these two critters be?”

  “This is Melvin and Blue. They’re my friends.”

  “A swamp water rat and a baby penguin are your friends?” He chuckled. “You don’t hear that every day.”

  Blue took a deep breath, opened his beak wide and hollered, “Not a—”

  “He’s not a baby,” Lola told her uncle. Blue looked up at her and smiled as best a penguin could.

  “I stand corrected.” Tobias chuckled, then waved his paw in a dismissive manner. “You may leave us, Rake.”

  In the joyous reunion, Lola had forgotten all about the overseer, who was still standing by the door, watching the scene. “Your Excellency,” Overseer Rake said. “I don’t think—”

  “Leave us.”

  Overseer Rake growled with frustration, clenching her paws. Then she left the room, allowing the door to slam behind her.

  “Devils,” Tobias said with a shake of his head. “They think they know everything. They boast about their university and their intellectual pursuits, but in truth, they are extremely temperamental creatures, difficult to work with.” He motioned to the velvet sofa. “Please sit down.” When Lola and Melvin were settled, with Blue bouncing impatiently between them, Tobias sat in an overstuffed wing chair, folded his hands in his lap, and smiled. His broad face reminded Lola so much of her mother’s. But his eyes were different. Not in their shape or color but in a way she couldn’t sort out. “So, what brings you to Dore?”

  “I got a message,” Lola told him. “A secret message.”

  “A secret message?” His smile faded.

  “Yes. It said ‘T.B. is ready.’ A platypus brought it up the stream to the burrows. It was supposed to be for my mum, but I got it instead.”

  “‘T.B. is ready’?” he repeated slowly. “And you say this message was for Alice?”

  “Yes. Mum was sleeping and I—I snuck out the burrow to explore. I do that sometimes.” She paused, expecting a reprimand, but her uncle simply stared at her, waiting for her to continue. Lola scooted to the edge of the sofa. “I like to go out during the day because I’m unshy.”

  “I figured that out,” he snorted. “You’re here, after all. But what about this message?”

  She continued. “But while I was at the stream, something terrible happened. A Tassie devil came to the burrows and took mum and dad and all the wombats. They’re being forced to dig coal.”

  Tobias’s eyes widened and his paw flew to his heart. “What are you saying? My dear sister and brother-in-law are digging coal?”

  “Yes. And so is everyone else from the burrows. We saw them. We flew in a hot-air balloon and saw them.”

  “I flew!” Blue blurted. Then he bounced so high, Lola had to grab him so he wouldn’t ricochet off the sofa.

  “Grand Governor Bottom?” Melvin spoke for the first time since entering the room.

  “Do you have something to say, young swamp water rat?”

  “My name is Melvin,” Melvin said with a twitch of his nose. “And according to information we’ve gathered, the queen is paying those monstrous creatures to collect wombats and take them to the coal mine.”

  Tobias gasped, a paw rushing to his mouth. “This can’t be true.”

  Melvin’s forehead furrowed and his tail swished slowly back and forth along the floor. “As the queen’s grand governor, surely you knew of this. Why would you allow your own kind to be imprisoned and forced into hard labor?”

  Lola was surprised by Melvin’s directness. Her immediate reaction was to defend her family. “This is Queen Myra’s doing, n
ot my uncle’s,” she scolded Melvin. Then she turned to face Tobias. “But why would she do this? Wombats are her most loyal citizens. We love her.” She wrapped her arms around Blue, stroking his fluffy head. “We thought she loved us, too.”

  A long moment of silence hung over the room. Then Tobias Bottom rose from his chair and began to pace, his paws clasped behind his back. He looked quite regal in his dinner jacket and shiny golden monocle chain. No one in the burrows dressed in such a fancy way. Everything about him, from his waxed chin hairs to his opulent surroundings, solidified Lola’s beliefs. Her uncle was important. He’d help her, without a doubt. “This is heartbreaking news,” he said. “I had no idea that wombats were being forced to dig coal. Of course, they are welcome to dig, if they choose to. After all, digging coal is an honorable job and provides an important resource to the kingdom. But never should any critter be forced to dig, or into any sort of profession that belies their interests.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I admit I haven’t been paying attention to everything.” He motioned toward his desk, which was covered in scrolls. “Being the grand governor comes with so much paperwork, it overwhelms me. I’d rather work on my collections. Did you see my rare seashells? They’re worth a small fortune. I obtain them from the trade between the penguins and the dolphins who live out beyond the kelp forest.”

  “They are lovely,” Melvin said, softening for a moment as he glanced over at the shells. “You have excellent taste.”

  “Thank you,” Tobias said with a puff of his chest. “I wish I had more time for such artistic pursuits, but I’ve been very busy getting ready for my birthday party. Which is tomorrow.” He clapped his paws. “But what good timing! You will be my special guests. The queen has declared it an official holiday.”

  “Really?” Lola beamed with pride. A member of her family had an official holiday. Now the wombats would sing songs to both the queen and to her uncle. “Will the queen be at your party? I have so many questions for her—”

  “The queen?” Tobias interrupted. “She’s away. We don’t know when she’ll be back. Or if she’ll be back.”

  “If?” Melvin asked.

  “Yes, I’m afraid the queen has been talking about retiring. She’s worn out, the poor little thing. She wants to live in seclusion, free from the obligations of state.”

  While both Lola and Melvin were surprised by this information, Blue was completely uninterested. He kicked his feet, wiggling until he slid free of Lola’s arms. Then he began to waddle around the room. Lola didn’t have to worry about him wandering away because the door was closed, so she decided to let him stretch his little legs. She turned her focus back to her uncle.

  “I didn’t know that a queen could retire,” Melvin said. “Who would take her place?”

  “Well…” Tobias picked a downy feather from the air before it could land on his fancy jacket. “As Queen Myra is the last of her lineage, the duty of succession would fall to the grand governor.”

  “You?” Lola couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her uncle might become the next ruler of Tassie Island? “Wow, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you.”

  Tobias returned to the wingback chair. But as he sat, his expression turned serious once again. “Lola, my dearest niece, what happened after your parents were taken away? How did you come to be here?”

  It was such a long story. Where should she begin? “The last thing mum said to me was to find my uncle. I found your letters to Mum and that’s when I realized that the words ‘T.B. is ready’ meant that you, Tobias Bottom, were ready. That’s why I set out for Dore.” She spoke briefly of how she’d met Melvin and Blue. “But then a Tassie devil named Snarl, son of Snarl, told us that he’d actually been the one to send the message. That’s very confusing. Why would he tell my mum that you are ready?” The words tumbled out of her mouth so quickly, as if caught by a rushing river’s current. She took a deep breath and waited for her uncle to explain everything. To make everything right again.

  “Your story is most troubling.” Tobias fiddled with a shiny button on his jacket, gazing out the window, deep in thought. A long moment passed before he turned his face back to Lola. “I did not send that message. Nor do I know who this Snarl is. But I can tell you this—there are citizens who are working against Queen Myra because they disagree with her new progressive policies. This Snarl might be one of those rebels.”

  “He called himself a warrior for peace,” Melvin said.

  “Aha.” Tobias pointed at Melvin. “Exactly. That’s rebellious talk if ever I heard it. I will issue a warrant for his immediate arrest.”

  Lola’s whiskers bristled. Snarl hadn’t seemed dangerous. But clearly her uncle knew best in these matters. “Uncle Tobias, why would a Tassie devil send a message to my mum?”

  “And when you say ‘progressive policies,’ what do you mean, exactly?” Melvin asked.

  Tobias stroked his chin hairs. “My oh my. You two are quite the talkative pair. Those are excellent questions, but I think—”

  “Baby!” Blue shouted. He’d somehow managed to open the front of the grandfather clock. His head was inside the clock, but his little rump stuck out, his tail feathers wiggling. “Baby!”

  In the blink of an eye, Tobias leaped from his chair and lunged at the clock. It was a surprising feat of agility for a critter with such a wide body and short legs. He pulled Blue out of the clock, then shut the door and latched it. Then he held Blue aloft with both arms and said, in a parental way, “You should not wander. You might get into trouble.” While his voice sounded calm, his eyes looked enraged. “That clock could have fallen over and flattened you, or your feathers could have gotten trapped between the moving gears.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lola said, sliding off the sofa so she could collect Blue. “I’ll try to keep him close.”

  “See that you do.” Tobias placed Blue in Lola’s arms, then hollered, “Attendants!”

  Immediately, the door flew open and three mice popped in, each wearing a white apron. “Yes, Your Excellency?”

  “Supper,” he said. “For two wombats, a penguin, and a swamp water rat.”

  “Hungry!”

  “While I am grateful for the meal, I think you should know that I don’t eat garbage,” Melvin said. “‘May our feasts be ever rotten’ is not a phrase I agree with.”

  “Did you hear that? Our guest does not eat garbage,” Tobias told the attendants.

  “Yes, we heard, Your Excellency.” They scurried away.

  Tobias ushered Lola, Melvin, and Blue to a dining table that was set into a nook beside a large picture window. The window was crystal clear except for a little mouse paw print that the window washer had left behind. The window overlooked the city. According to the grandfather clock it was past twilight, and indeed the city had grown darker. Outside, mice climbed the streetlamps, lighting them with torches. Lola felt strange about sitting down to enjoy a meal, what with her family still held captive at the coal mine. “Uncle Tobias—”

  “Lola, sit. There is nothing we can do tonight. You’ve traveled far and you must eat, then rest. And there is still much I’d like to know.”

  Lola still had her own questions. So she sat with Blue on her lap. The meal service began with each tray of food carried by four mice, then lifted onto the table by an old wallaby dressed in a butler’s vest. Warm peppermint tea, a salad of tender butter lettuce, a basket of winter wheat rolls, a platter of raw root vegetables, and a bowl of colorful little fish, some yellow, some blue.

  “All the best that Tassie Island has to offer,” Tobias boasted.

  “Fish!” Blue cried, excitedly clapping his flippers.

  Melvin tied a napkin around Blue’s neck, then one around his own, and he took a delicate nibble of a roll. “Delightful,” he said. “My compliments to the chef.”

  Lola picked up a bowl of grapes. “Uncle Tobias, did you carve this?”

  “I was never interested in carving,” he replied.

  “I’m not interest
ed in carving either,” Lola said. She took a sip of tea but was too fidgety to eat. “Uncle Tobias?” He glanced up from his salad fork. “Can you please tell us why—?”

  He gently patted her paw. “Lola, it would appear that you and I are like two peas in a pod. Uninterested in carving. Eager for conversation. Full of questions. We are rare wombats, we two. Perhaps you’d like to stay here in Dore, where your talents for talk can be put to use? Why would you return to the burrows, where good conversation is not appreciated?”

  “But there’s no one in the burrows, Uncle. That’s why I’m here, remember?”

  “Ah, yes.” He selected a plump red radish from a bowl. “You have come here for answers, and answers I shall provide.”

  While Blue noisily slurped, both Lola and Melvin sat in tense anticipation. Tell me, Lola thought. Tell me that you will help. That everything will go back to normal.

  Tobias Bottom, the grand governor of Dore, finished the radish, then spoke. “Queen Myra is trying to modernize Dore and all of Tassie Island. To move us from a pastoral, agricultural society into a new age. She believes that with the advent of the train and similar achievements, fewer critters will be needed out on the farms, and the city will prosper all the more. We will soon have the ability to travel to all parts of the island, from the deepest valley to the tallest mountain.” He pointed out the window. “Factory number one is for the shaping and smelting of steel into railway tracks. Factory number two will soon follow so that more tracks can be made. The inhabitants of Dore are working together to create this brilliant future.”

  “Is that why all the shops are closed?” Melvin asked. “Because everyone is working in the factory?” Lola thought of the quoll who’d been waiting in line to find her bricklaying son.

  “The shops are unimportant at the moment. The critters of Dore are united in our common cause, but they will open again soon, I’m sure. We are entering a new industrial age. With our factories supplying track, it won’t be long before our train can crisscross Tassie Island. No place and no critter will be unreachable. We will be able to trade goods quicker. To deliver goods quicker.”