Braver

by Suzanne Selfors

  At the name of the first king, the critters settled their rumps onto the factory floor. Pointed ears and round ears turned in Lola’s direction. Black eyes and brown eyes gazed up at her. She’d never had an audience of this size. She paused, a lump in her throat.

  “Lola, they are still listening to you,” the queen whispered. “Help them understand that the story is real.”

  Lola swallowed hard, then found her voice. “Though he knew he was the smallest of the small, TheoDore bravely went to the invader’s leader and asked him to stop the hunts. The leader laughed and said, Why should I listen to you? You are insignificant. Small and humble though he was, TheoDore believed that strength could be found in alliance, and so he began to gather a clan. Alone we are weak, he told them. But together we are strong. The clan grew and word spread throughout the island, and those who were frightened traveled to join TheoDore in his village by the bay. Together they built a glorious city, a shining beacon of peace where no critter would live in fear of being hunted. And those who loved him made him king, and set him upon the first throne, and named the city Dore. And TheoDore the Small became known as King TheoDore the Wise.

  “His descendants have sworn to continue his legacy as long as they live. Ever since those days of chaos, the family of TheoDore has shouldered the burden of the throne. They take the same vow and carry the same blood as the one who saved us all. Their clan keeps watch lest the times of chaos reign once more.”

  That was the end of the tale, as written in her storybook. Now Lola had to add her own words. “Queen Myra, the greatest granddaughter of King TheoDore, would never betray you. But would you betray her by turning against her in this time of chaos? Or would you join together, as our ancestors did, to save our island?”

  The critters sat in silence. Many had ears turned down with tears of shame in their eyes. But there was something else behind the shame, something that grew as disjointed chanting began. Slowly louder, more confident and sure. And hope glistened behind the tears as cheering arose, loud enough to shake the foundations of the factory itself.

  “Alone we are weak! Together we are strong! Long live Queen Myra. Long live Dore!”

  The queen once again whispered in Lola’s ear. “Thank you.” Then she held up her paws and silence fell again. This time the gathered critters gazed upon their queen with renewed faith and hope. “My loyal friends and beloved subjects,” she said. “The invaders have returned, but they are not here to stay. We know that you are tired from the work they forced upon you, but from all this work surely you’ve gained strength as well, strength enough to fight back. Not for Us, nor for Our ancestors, but for your families. If we are going to chase the renegades from our city, then let’s be about it!”

  With a cheer, the critters tossed their aprons aside and followed Lola from the factory. One by one they emerged, taking deep breaths of cool morning air. Mice, quolls, and echidnas, a ragtag, soot-covered crew, determined nonetheless to face the enemy. They brought their great forge hammers, lengths of steel track and chain, and shovels covered in coal dust. At one end of the road stood the palace. At the other end, the tower. “We must free the Resistance,” the queen said, “before it is too late.” Lola agreed, and turned in the tower’s direction.

  But they were already out of time.

  29

  CRASH LANDING

  Overseer Rake stood at the end of the cobblestone street, flanked on each side by her rebels. With whips and daggers in paw, they walked toward Lola and the queen, snarling and baring their teeth. The hems of their black robes swept through the sooty street. The factory workers drew closer together, tightening into a frightened cluster behind Lola. The overseer and her rebels stopped a few feet away.

  “You must all be confused,” Overseer Rake said, her fingers tapping her whip’s handle. “Workers are supposed to be inside the factory.”

  “You do not rule these critters,” Queen Myra said, making her voice as loud as she could. Lola scooped the queen into her palm and held her out so she could face the overseer. “They are free by Our command. You are a rebel who has no place here. You are to return immediately to Mount Ossa, where your peers will decide on a suitable punishment.”

  The other devils growled, then waited to see what their leader would do. Overseer Rake remained calm, though the blaze in her eyes reminded Lola of the factory’s furnace—yet somehow cold as ice. “You may have ruled us in the past but you can no longer hide behind your palace wall.” A smirk spread across her face. “The descendants of TheoDore are no longer in control of the city that bears their name, much less the island itself. This is the second age of Tassie Island and you will bow to me.”

  “Never,” Queen Myra said, her furry chin held high.

  “Very well, I suppose you needn’t bow. Cowering in fear would be much more satisfying.” Overseer Rake threw back her head and shrieked—the same chill-inducing shriek that Lola had heard, what seemed like a lifetime ago, in the burrow. It was the sound that had the power to make her heart stop beating. To turn her legs to jelly. To obliterate any sense of hope.

  It was the sound of a predator claiming its prey. And the overseer’s glare had dropped to the queen.

  “No!” Lola cried, pulling the queen close and cupping her with both paws. “I won’t let you hurt her!”

  “I am more than happy to take you down first.” With a sweeping motion, the overseer raised her whip to the sky. Lola turned away to protect the queen, preparing to feel the whip against her back. She closed her eyes and held the queen tightly between her paws. She whispered how sorry she was to the little monarch. The whip snaked back and darted forward, but something rushed past her and stood in the way. That’s when a clang filled the air. The shriek cut off in surprise.

  Lola turned around. Melvin stood before her, holding a shovel aloft in both paws. He’d blocked the overseer’s whip, which left only a small dent in the shovel head. At first the overseer didn’t react. She stood in a state of shock, her mouth hanging open. The other rebels growled and shifted with agitation, waiting for her order to strike.

  “How dare you protect my prey,” the overseer said to Melvin, almost too shocked for anger. “Lower your shovel and get back to your station. You are a disgrace to all rats.”

  “So I’ve been told,” Melvin said, but he did not flinch.

  Overseer Rake yanked on her whip. It rushed across the ground from below Melvin’s shovel and returned to her side. “All of you, return to the factory!”

  The factory workers seemed to gather courage, for they began to step forward. “Never,” a quoll said.

  “We don’t take orders from you, we don’t,” a mouse said.

  “Oh dear, oh dear,” an echidna said.

  “Then you will all pay the price!” The overseer tossed back her head again, another shriek filling the air. Her devils joined her, their whips raised high. But then, with a sudden shift in her demeanor, the overseer stopped shrieking. She stood, her face still turned to the sky, her eyes widening as a shadow fell over her. “What the—”

  A large basket landed on top of Overseer Rake. With a gargled sound, she disappeared beneath its weight. The rebels fell into silence. Lola couldn’t believe her eyes.

  “Squwhaaaaat’s going on?” Captain Bogart stuck his head out of the gondola. Everyone stared back at him with expressions of utter disbelief. Completely unaware of what had happened, Bogart hopped onto the gondola’s rim and waved his wing. “G’day mates. Is this my welcoming party?”

  No one replied, all eyes fixed upon the place where the overseer had stood.

  “Oi. What’s everyone looking at?” the captain asked. Then he turned and spied the Tassie devils. With a strangled sound, he ducked back into the gondola. “Blue! We need that fire going again right away!”

  Queen Myra jumped from Lola’s paw, then scampered down Lola’s leg. Holding the hem of her gown so she wouldn’t trip, she scurried across the cobblestones. One of the overseer’s paws stuck out from beneath
the gondola. The queen placed her ear against the overseer’s wrist. Breaths were held. Everyone waited for the news. “There is a pulse,” Queen Myra reported. “The overseer is weakened, but alive.”

  “Still alive,” the rebels murmured, gripping their whips. But without a leader they seemed unsure of what to do next. The critters of Dore, against all their instincts, shook their fists at the rebels, who were now faced with something wholly alien to them—the banding together of their prey. The Tassie devils paused momentarily in their advance. Emboldened by the devils’ hesitation, the citizens of Dore took another step, then another, and yet another still. Lola watched as another miracle occurred before her eyes—the rebels took a step back. One of them turned and ran. And there, at last, they broke. More cheering followed as they ran to make their escape.

  Their claws clattering loudly against the cobblestones, the critters surged forward to give chase. But soon the devils were putting on the brakes. Coming down the road in front of them was a contingent of bloated but determined rats, with a familiar devil at their head. A similar pounding came from surrounding alleyways as rats poured in from all sides, pincering the rebels between them, who threw down their arms in surrender.

  A great cheer that shook the very ground arose from the critters on all sides. Many began celebrating, while still others stepped toward their foe. Taking up their discarded whips, and chains from the forge, they tied the rebels together.

  Several quolls helped lift Bogart’s balloon off the overseer’s unconscious body. Following the queen’s orders, four rats carried the overseer to the tower. Snarl stepped forward and bowed before the queen. “Your Majesty, it is good to see you again. Please forgive my tardiness. The rats would not leave until the royal kitchen was picked clean.”

  “Sounds about right,” Melvin mumbled.

  “You are, of course, forgiven, Snarl.” The queen laughed. “Just this once, you understand?”

  Snarl chuckled as he stood once more, looking around. “Where is the taskmaster?”

  “Taskmaster Lash is in Tobias’s office,” Melvin explained. “I tied him up with some drapery cords. But his skin is glowing, thanks to the lovely facial I gave him.”

  “Excellent work, everyone,” Queen Myra said. “Snarl, son of Snarl, please accompany these rebellious devils to the tower and free Teddy and the Resistance. And free the messenger pelicans, too. Then send Teddy and his crew directly to the mine to capture the remaining rebels and free the wombats.”

  “Immediately, Your Majesty.” Snarl bowed and hurried away.

  Queen Myra looked up at Lola. “Do not worry, my dear. You will soon be reunited with your loved ones.” Tears sprang into Lola’s eyes.

  A feathered face peered over the gondola’s rim. “Are they gone?”

  “Yes,” Melvin said.

  The gondola’s door sprang open and out popped a little bundle of blue. “Lola!”

  Lola swept Blue off his webbed feet and pulled him into a happy embrace. “Home?” he asked.

  “Yes, Blue, you will go home very, very soon. Everything is going to work out.” She nuzzled her face against his feathers.

  “Ahem.” Captain Bogart hobbled toward them, then swept his wing into a graceful bow. “Your Majesty, it’s an honor to meet you. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Captain Bogart, captain and inventor of this hot-air balloon. I should like to discuss a business proposition with you.”

  Queen Myra smile graciously. “You may not have noticed, Captain Bogart, but We are in the middle of squashing a rebel uprising. Business propositions will have to wait. But We do thank you. Your crash landing was immensely helpful to Our city.”

  “Squwhaaaaat?” Bogart puffed out his feathers. “I’m a licensed pilot, Your Majesty. I never crash.”

  Lola and Melvin shared a knowing look.

  Queen Myra stood on a cobblestone, her gown torn and stained. The factory no longer spewing black smoke, blue sky peeking through, a ray of sunshine falling upon her. It was as if she glowed. And that was how Lola felt, warm and standing in that pool of sunshine. It fell over her and Melvin, who smiled and lifted his face to the sun. Blue began to wiggle until Lola set him down. He took a cautious step, then another, and then leaned over and put his face very close to the queen.

  “Baby,” he whispered. Then he pecked her on the head.

  30

  A NEW TALE

  Winter had come to Tassie Island in darkness and rain. A bright waxing moon peeked from behind the gray cloud cover, but it was only clouds that obscured it, not smog, nor smoke, nor billowing plume of blackening soot. Factory number one sat silent, its giant furnace cold and bolted shut. The first rains of autumn had been welcome, as they helped wash away the remaining soot. But even so, today was giving them all a spot of particularly bothersome weather.

  But not everyone was feeling the gloom.

  Lola couldn’t stop smiling as she looked around. Inside the palace, the crystal chandeliers glistened with candlelight and the mantels and doorways were decked with boughs and red berries. It was the queen’s birthday, and messenger pelicans had been sent all over the island, delivering special invitations. By boat and hot-air balloon, by train and cart, the honored guests had arrived and were now gathered within the grand hall. Despite the roaring winds and freezing rain that rattled the windows, inside the air was warm and filled with the lovely scent of freshly baked winter wheat bread.

  While waiting for the grand meal to be served, guests mingled. Melvin was speaking softly to several merchants, who had taken some interest in both the way he carried himself and his finely groomed coat. Lola had never doubted that her friend’s grooming salon would take off. Business could not be better. And it didn’t hurt that his most famous client was the queen herself.

  Captain Bogart kept worriedly glancing out the window into the storm, checking on his balloon. Queen Myra had commissioned him to make three more for tours between Dore and Penguin Bay. The balloons were expected to be ready come spring, and quite a few penguins had applied for Bogart’s pilot training program. In Bogart’s opinion, flightless birds made the most enthusiastic pilots.

  The regal notes of a trumpet drew everyone’s attention and the guests moved to take their seats, finding the tables laden with food for every sort of critter. Moss salads and root-vegetable stews, worms and earwigs, anchovies and rotten leftovers. Members of the Royal Guard sat at the flanking tables. The contingent made of swamp water rats sat together with forks raised. “May our feasts be ever rotten!” they said with a raucous cheer. Prominent members of the citizenry sat at the other tables. But the center table was reserved for the guests of honor.

  “You’re to sit here,” a butler mouse told Lola, ushering her to the head of the table.

  “There must be some mistake,” Lola said.

  “No mistake. Queen Myra insisted. This is your seat.”

  Lola sat, then looked down the length of the table as the other guests took their assigned seats. Captain Jeb and Josie and Rupert from the Fairwater Trading Post gazed hungrily at the enormous platter of worms that had been set before them. Captain Bogart sat next to Stella from Stella’s Star, who’d provided barrels of her berry brew for the celebration. Blue, along with his mother and father, sat across the table, next to Bale Blackwater. “Blasted! Why are there so many feathers in me worms?” Bale complained, as cranky as ever.

  “We’re molting!” Blue’s parents exclaimed, bouncing on their chairs as excitedly as their son, whose baby feathers were almost all gone.

  Snarl, son of Snarl, was the next at the table, alongside Teddy Bottom. Snarl had recently returned from a trip to Mount Ossa, where he’d attended a meeting of the Tassie Devil Council. Teddy was eager for news. “There is disagreement as to the handling of the rebels,” Snarl reported. “Not all is harmonious. And while the taskmaster claims remorse, I do not fully believe him.”

  “What about Overseer Rake?” Teddy asked.

  “We do not have prisons on the mountain, s
o she is free to live among us. But she has not shown any remorse for her actions and continues to preach a return to the old ways.”

  “That is troubling news,” Teddy said.

  “If they come back, we’ll fight them, we will,” Stella said, pounding a fist onto the table.

  “Oh dear, oh dear,” mumbled Josie, her quills aquiver.

  A paw reached out and patted Teddy’s paw. “Perhaps we should not speak of politics tonight.” The gentle voice belonged to Lola’s mother, who sat next to Lola’s father.

  “I agree,” Arthur said as he grabbed a sprig of parsley. “Politics upset one’s digestion.” In the months that had passed since the wombats were freed from the coal mine, Lola had spent much time asking questions. Her mother had known that things were amiss in Dore because she’d kept in contact with Teddy. And she’d known that she might have to leave her family behind for a time in order to better protect them. But even after being captured, she had never given up hope or put a stopper to her plans.

  When Teddy and his crew had arrived at the mines to free the wombats, they were surprised at what they saw. Alice had led the others in a scheme, pretending they had struck gold. Though skeptical at first, the gold-toothed devil and her comrades had rushed into the mine, heedless of their captives. Alice then led the wombats to seal the entrance. Teddy arrived to find them filing away at their bindings while the devils yelled from behind a barricade of stone and wood.

  Melvin took his seat next to Alice and Arthur Budge. Looking well groomed, as usual.

  When the meal was finished there were belly pats all around. Then the notes of the trumpet sounded again and all heads turned to the pygmy possum of the hour. Many could not see the queen immediately, but knew she had arrived because four members of her newly appointed Order of the Shovel were following her. These swamp water rats had been given a special place of importance as the queen’s personal guard and their ordinary shovels had been replaced with golden ones, made after the melting of objects from the grand governor’s office.