Braver

by Suzanne Selfors

  “Save Queen Myra?” Bogart ruffled his black feathers and saluted with his good wing. “Captain Bogart at your service!” He jumped back into the gondola and began to release air, lowering the balloon until it hovered parallel to the window. “How can I help?”

  Lola leaned on the sill. “We need you to fly all over the city and tell every rat you see to come to the palace kitchen, right away. Tell the rats that Queen Myra has returned and if they swear their loyalty to her, they can eat all the royal garbage they want. Can you do that?”

  “Of course I can do that,” Bogart said. “I have my pilot’s license, don’t I?” He indicated the cardboard tag hanging around his neck.

  “Clever idea,” Melvin told Lola with a pat to her shoulder.

  Snarl squeezed between Lola and the window frame. Upon seeing him, Bogart’s feathers ruffled again. “Squwhaaaaat is this?” He aimed his pointy beak.

  “You can trust him,” Melvin explained. “He’s on our side.”

  “Hello, Captain Bogart. I am Snarl, son of Snarl, and I am a warrior of peace intent on saving our good queen. But I must insist that you allow Lola onto your vessel and take her away from the city, immediately.”

  “But—!” Lola began to protest.

  “Snarl is right,” Melvin said. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but you’ll be safer onboard that contraption. If you get captured, they might send you to the coal mine. Or they might do something worse. You’re Teddy and Tobias’s niece. The overseer might not show you any mercy.”

  “He speaks the truth,” Snarl said.

  Blue tugged on Lola’s leg. “I fly?” he asked. She picked him up and he reached his flippers toward Bogart. “I fly!” He didn’t seem to remember that he’d been pushed out of that same balloon less than a day ago.

  Lola knew that Snarl and Melvin were thinking of her safety. But there was no way she was going to flee. She’d come all this way to save her family, and Queen Myra was the key to their future. To everyone’s future. But Blue’s safety was also her responsibility, and she didn’t know what the overseer would do to him. So she gave him a little kiss on his feathery head. “Yes, you fly,” she whispered. Then she gently tossed him into the gondola.

  “Wheeee,” he said as he landed with a soft thunk.

  “I’ll see you soon!” Lola called to him.

  “Lola, aren’t you going with him?” Snarl asked.

  “No, I’m staying here. We have an entire city to save.”

  Snarl opened his mouth, but Melvin stopped him. “You can argue with Lola all day, but I know she won’t change her mind. This is her family we’re talking about. You’ve dealt with wombats. Are you telling me you can beat their stubbornness?”

  Snarl sighed. “Understood.”

  “Remember, tell every rat you see that the royal kitchen is open to them, compliments of Queen Myra,” Lola said. The balloon was beginning to rise again, but slowly, hovering only barely above the wall. “Captain Bogart, if you don’t see us again, will you take Blue back to Penguin Bay?”

  “Yes,” Bogart said.

  “And please don’t push him overboard again!” she called, suddenly far more worried than she’d been moments before.

  “And try not to crash!” Melvin yelled.

  “Squwhaaaaat?” Bogart glared at him. “I never crash! I just land unexpectedly. Those are two very different things!” The balloon began to float over the rooftops, Bogart’s lone wing pumping back and forth as he steered them through the near-windless air.

  Lola felt odd not to have a baby penguin clinging to her back or holding on to her paw, and for a moment her heart ached. Had she made the right decision? Melvin patted her shoulder again. “He’s definitely safer up there.” She nodded, holding back a tear.

  “We must make haste,” Snarl said.

  Melvin shook his head in amazement. “Who would have imagined that a Tassie devil, a swamp water rat, and a wombat would be the last hope for our island?”

  “It’s like a story,” Lola realized.

  “Let us hope this story has a happy ending.” Snarl held out a paw. “Long live the resistance.”

  “Long live the resistance,” Lola and Melvin chimed, placing their paws atop his. “And long live the queen.”

  27

  BUCKETS AND SHOVELS

  The palace was eerily quiet since most of the servants were members of the Resistance and had been taken away to the tower. With cautious steps, Lola and Melvin began to follow Snarl down the hall. Despite the fact that Lola was skilled at sneaking, her nerves were jittery. She’d snuck out of the burrow many times, but the future of a kingdom hadn’t depended on her success. She thought of Josie and Rupert back at the trading post and wished she, too, could curl into a ball of spikes.

  While walking, Melvin combed his fur with his claws. “I’m going to meet the queen,” he whispered when Lola gave him a quizzical look. “I don’t want to look like I just rolled out of my sleeping bag.”

  “You look fine,” she assured him.

  “Thank you. I know you’re lying but that just proves you’re my friend.” He winked at her.

  They had reached the end of the hallway when Snarl turned quickly and motioned for them to stop. Two white rats, each holding a short sword, marched down the connecting hallway with six palace mice scurrying in front.

  “I haven’t done anything, I haven’t,” one of the mice squeaked. “I was scrubbing the pots and pans, I was.”

  “We have orders to take everyone to the tower for questioning,” a rat guard said.

  “But I’m the royal pastry chef, I am,” another mouse pleaded. She wore a chef’s hat. “I need to finish icing the cake for the grand governor’s birthday.”

  “Don’t blame us, we’re just following the overseer’s orders,” the second rat said, prodding the mouse with his foot. “Keep moving.”

  “That’s right, keep moving. We don’t get to eat if we don’t do what the overseer says.” And they passed by, not seeming to care one bit about Snarl and his companions.

  “We need to open the royal kitchen so we can get the rats on our side,” Snarl said, continuing around the corner now that the rats had left. “And we need to rescue the queen. But the kitchen and Tobias’s office are at opposite sides of the palace.”

  A red carpet drew Lola’s attention. She knew exactly where it led. “Melvin and I have been inside my uncle’s office, but we’ve never been to the royal kitchen. We’ve also seen the grandfather clock. We’ll go get the queen.”

  Snarl’s black tail flicked. “I would take the time to argue with you, but there is no time. We must split up. I shall open the kitchen doors and alert any remaining servants of our plans. I doubt any will side with the overseer. Most will leap at the chance to help. You two will find the queen.”

  “Then what?” Melvin asked.

  “Meet me outside in the courtyard.” He pointed down a hallway. “We will take Queen Myra to the factory. The workers think she abandoned them and they will not rise up unless they see her. We need them to join our fight and help us round up the rebels.”

  It was a plan made in haste, and probably filled with flaws, but as Lola turned to face the red carpet, she felt a sudden rush of confidence. Why? Because she knew that the best stories came with the least expected heroes. The plan would work. It had to work. There was no other option.

  In a few minutes, she and Melvin were facing Tobias’s office door. The two white rats had been replaced by two gray rats. One was large with wide shoulders and was missing an ear. The other was shorter but equally muscular. Instead of swords, they each held a shovel.

  “I’ll handle this,” Melvin said, shaking his head and sighing. Lola nodded, and followed alongside. “Hello, Bob. Hello, Stanley.”

  The taller rat scratched his rump. “Oi! It’s Melvin. Hello, Melvin, good to see you.” He jabbed the other rat with his elbow. “Stanley, look, it’s Melvin, and that joey.”

  Stanley, who’d been asleep on his feet
, awoke with a start. “Hey, Melvin. Did you join the Royal Guard?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “Look at you. Not a speck of slime on you. You’re still a disgrace to all rats.”

  “Thank you.” Melvin rolled his eyes.

  “Oh, that reminds me…” Bob leaned his shovel against the wall, then pushed his bucket aside, revealing another bucket that had a custom-made red covering with pockets. “I found this on the train after we raided the Farmlands. Been carrying it around in case I ran into you. Don’t think too poorly of the rats who took this. They were just following orders so they could fill their stomachs. They meant no ill will toward you.”

  Melvin accepted his bucket with a smile. “My sleeping bag and my products are still inside. You did this for me?”

  “Of course, mate,” Bob said. “You might be an oddy, but you’re one of us and we stick together.” Then he handed Melvin a shovel.

  “Did you happen to see Lola’s backpack?” Melvin asked. Lola took a hopeful step forward. Her cloak? Her letters? Her book?

  “Sorry,” Bob said with a shrug. “So, what are you two doing here?”

  “Lola and I have been invited to the grand governor’s office for a meeting,” Melvin said. “So if you’ll just let us in…” He took a step forward. Bob and Stanley stepped closer together, blocking the way.

  “No can do,” Bob said. “No one is allowed inside, orders of the overseer.”

  “But I’m Tobias Bottom’s niece,” Lola said. “I have his permission to enter his office.”

  Stanley picked something green off his front tooth. “We follow the overseer’s orders, not the governor’s,” he told her.

  Melvin narrowed his eyes and looked slyly at his fellow swamp rat. “Stanley, are you telling me that you’re working for a Tassie devil? You said you’d never work for one. You came here to work for the queen, remember?”

  “The overseer feeds us better,” Bob said. “So much rot and ruin, I’m getting fat.” He patted his belly, which did look rounder. “And that other one told us to guard this door while he’s inside getting ready for something.”

  “Other one?” Lola asked.

  “Lash, the taskmaster,” Bob said.

  Lola and Melvin shared a pained expression. Why was the taskmaster inside Tobias’s office? There could only be one reason—he was looking for the queen. They had to get in there!

  “We have good news for you,” Lola said. “News about garbage.” Bob and Stanley’s ears perked, their tails standing at attention.

  “Uh, that’s right,” Melvin said, taking the cue. “The queen has invited the Royal Guard to her kitchen to feast on Royal Garbage. The doors are opening as we speak.”

  “But the overseer is the one who feeds us,” Bob said. “Not the queen.”

  “We’ve never even met the queen,” Stanley said. “The overseer said she was dead.”

  “She’s not dead,” Lola insisted, her voice rising. “She’s here, in Dore, and she’s wants the Royal Guard to be loyal to her.”

  “She’s going to feed you better than you ever imagined. The royal kitchen is open to you, right now, but you’ve got to hurry if you want to get the first pickings.” Melvin pointed down the hallway.

  Bob licked his lips. “You hear that, Stanley? We don’t have to work for those devils.”

  “I heard.” Stanley wiped a bit of drool from his chin. “It’s our lucky day.” They grabbed their buckets and shovels.

  “You coming with us?” Bob asked Melvin.

  “He’s not coming with us,” Stanley said. “Melvin hates garbage. Hey, Melvin, if we see a fresh piece of fruit with no bruises or wormholes, we’ll save it for you.”

  “Thanks,” Melvin said.

  The two swamp water rats scurried away, their tails twitching with excitement as they sang. Other rats could be heard to slowly take up the call.

  So raise your shovels to the sky

  Then plunge them in the ground,

  There’s garbage to be found, mates,

  There’s garbage to be found.

  “Now what do we do?” Melvin asked.

  Lola’s thoughts had been swirling around and around as she tried to work out the best next step. And she’d come to one conclusion. “I’ll give myself up to the taskmaster. He’ll take me to the tower, and then the coast will be clear for you to go inside and get the queen.”

  “No, that’s too risky,” Melvin said. “For all we know, Overseer Rake might be getting ready to hunt as we speak!”

  “We don’t have another choice.” The queen had to be saved. The citizens of Dore had to see that Queen Myra was alive and well. Only then could they join together to defeat the rebels. Only then would Lola’s family have a chance.

  Lola was about to knock on Tobias’s door when a voice on the other side said, “Who is singing?”

  The knob began to turn. Melvin grabbed Lola’s arm. “I have an idea,” he whispered. “A better idea that might keep you from the tower.” With all his strength, he pulled her behind a velvet window covering. She thought they were both going to hide, but he stepped back out.

  “Stay there.” What was he going to do? Lola peeked between the two drapes, watching as Melvin hurried toward Tobias’s office door.

  The door opened and the taskmaster appeared. His robe brushed across the floor as he stepped into the hallway. His parasol was closed and hanging from his forearm. His pure white fur was always a shock to see. His intense gaze rested on Melvin. “Where are the guards?”

  Melvin shrugged. “You know rats. They smelled food and took off.”

  The taskmaster made a tch tch sound and shook his head. “That does not surprise me. They are bound to their natures, as are most of us.” He was about to turn away but hesitated. Then he narrowed his eyes. “I have seen you before. I would not forget such a well-groomed rat. You were outside the city gates, accompanying the niece of Tobias Bottom. Where is she?”

  “The overseer is looking after her, so I’m sure she’s fine.”

  The taskmaster considered this for a moment. His eyes softened, but there was some pain hidden behind them, too. “She is your friend?”

  “Yes. My very good friend.” Even though Lola already knew that she and Melvin shared this sentiment, it warmed her to hear his words, especially in such a dire moment.

  “Friendship is important, as is loyalty. Especially in times like these.” The taskmaster leaned on his parasol, gilded claws tapping like bells. “Why are you standing outside this door?”

  “I’m the new royal barber. Tobias Bottom hired me to prepare him for his birthday celebration.”

  Brilliant, Lola thought.

  The taskmaster waved his paw dismissively. “That celebration has been canceled. Thus you have no reason to be here.”

  “That’s a shame. I brought all my special products.” Melvin held up his bucket. “Luxurious skin conditioners, silky fur detanglers, ear gloss, and whisker cream.” He pointed to the taskmaster’s paw. “I do notice some slight flaking around your claws. That can happen if you forget to moisturize. You might want to consider my mud treatment.” Taskmaster Lash glanced at his paw. “I also see a bit of matting behind your ear.” Lash anxiously felt behind his ear. “I have the perfect products for you. But if you’re too busy to look your best…” Melvin shrugged.

  Taskmaster Lash smoothed his white mane. “How much time would this take? I have other matters to attend to.”

  “One must not rush beauty,” Melvin said. “But I’ll do my best to be efficient.”

  “See that you are.” Taskmaster Lash turned gracefully on his heels and headed back into Tobias’s office. Melvin gave Lola a wide-eyed look. Then, with his bucket and shovel in paw, he followed the taskmaster, making sure to leave the door open a crack behind him.

  Lola tiptoed forward, the red carpet so thick she didn’t have to worry about her claws clicking. Through the door’s crack, she watched Melvin get to work. He beckoned the taskmaster to a chair, then reached into his bucket and pulled
out some of his swamp-mud products. Noticing a teakettle on the hearth, Melvin picked it up and poured the water onto a small white towel.

  “All right, Taskmaster Lash, I’ll place this warm towel over your face to reduce the puffiness around your eyes.”

  “Puffiness?” the taskmaster said in alarm.

  “Extreme puffiness. Have you been experiencing stress?”

  “Unimaginable stress,” the taskmaster admitted, his expression drooping. “I have not been sleeping well. As the overseer’s right-hand critter, so many responsibilities lie on my shoulders. Overtaking a kingdom and establishing a new government is not an easy feat.”

  “You certainly deserve some me time,” Melvin said. “Please sit back and relax while I place this towel on your face. The heat will help to soothe your strained facial muscles. I do hope we’re not too late to prevent early onset wrinkling.”

  The taskmaster sat back in the chair and closed his red eyes. Once the towel was in place, Melvin grabbed a file from his bucket and began to work on the Tassie devil’s sharp nails. He looked over at the door and nodded at Lola.

  She took a long breath, then crept into the office. Melvin kept the conversation going. “Stress isn’t good for the skin. Especially delicate, sun-sensitive skin such as yours.”

  Lola’s heart beat in her throat. The grandfather clock loomed on the other side of the room and she’d have to pass behind the taskmaster to get there, within mere inches of him. She imagined that it was morning and her parents were asleep in their nests. She’d never woken them, not once. She could do this.

  But three steps into her journey, her foot knocked against one of the bookshelves, sending a book tumbling to the ground. She froze.

  “What was—?” The taskmaster began to pull the towel from his eyes, but Melvin stopped him.

  “I do sincerely apologize for that noise, sir. I’m a bit nervous. This is my first time working on fur that is so very exquisite.”

  “Not everyone would agree with you.” Taskmaster Lash settled back down. “I am considered an oddity among my own critters.”