Mona was setting them up now. They were made of seed shells, with candles inside, and would brightly light the stage and cast a soft glow over the courtyard, where guests would sit and eat. Mona had just placed the last lantern, wondering what her special task would be, when she heard something. Muttering from in the forest.
She tiptoed to the back of the stage. There, she could just make out a spiny silhouette. Mr. Quillson. He was skulking in the shadows and talking to himself. This wasn’t just mysterious—this was suspiciously sneaky! He was up to something. But what?
She remembered what he had said when she first met him, about being from another hotel. Was he from the hotel? The splashy one? Maybe he was here trying to steal the Heartwood’s secrets. She’d been too distracted by the Splash to think of it before. But it made sense.
With everyone outside, it would be a perfect chance for him to sneak around. He’d have the whole Heartwood to himself.
I have to watch out for him. That should be my task for tonight, thought Mona.
That was an important job. Who better to do it than her? She would tell Tilly at once.
But Tilly had other plans for her.
Mona found Tilly hurrying up the stairs. The squirrel was all dressed up. She wasn’t wearing her apron. Instead, a stylish spiderweb scarf was wrapped around her neck. Her tail wasn’t bushy or bristly either. It was curled in neat ringlets. There was even a bow tied between her ears.
Mona was still wearing her apron. The heart on it was smudged with dirt. She wished she could go change, too. If they were still sharing a room, they could have gotten ready together.
“Mona, there you are. Everything is ready, but there is something important I need you to do,” said her friend.
“Watch Mr. Quillson?”
“Mr. Quillson? No. I need you to watch Henry.”
Mona’s whiskers stiffened.
“You looked after him yesterday,” continued Tilly. “He really liked it.”
He liked it? Mona couldn’t believe it. She’d sent him back with Maggie and Maurice.
Tilly went on, “There’s so much to do tonight. I won’t be able to keep a proper eye on him. It would be great if you made sure he eats something healthy. Not just the petal pastries. He should go to bed right after the Flares do their fireworks. I promised him he could use his whistle to signal them to start. He’s really excited about that.” Tilly straightened the bow between her ears.
“No,” said Mona quietly.
“Thanks, Mona. I knew I could count on you,” said Tilly, turning to head outside to the courtyard.
“No,” Mona said, louder this time.
“What?” said Tilly, spinning around.
“No, Tilly,” said Mona, quickly, before she lost her courage. “I’m not a squirrel-sitter. I’m a maid.”
“But Henry—”
Right then, the grump in Mona, the one that had been growing all season, burst out of her. “Henry, Henry, Henry! It’s always about him.”
“He’s my brother, Mona,” said Tilly. “He’s family!” Tilly’s cry caused a few rabbit guests, who were walking past, to hop extra high. Tilly lowered her voice, but continued in a rush, “Just because he’s a star here doesn’t mean you have to be so mean. I can’t believe that I’d ever say this, but you’re out-grumping even me!”
Maybe it was true. But Mona didn’t care. “Star?! He’s not a star, he’s a kit. He doesn’t belong here. Nothing is the same. Not you, not us, not even the Heartwood. And it’s all because of Henry. He’s YOUR brother. You’re the one who should be looking after him, not me. I’m a maid. I’ve got my own jobs to do.”
“Then you’d better find one of those jobs to do tonight!”
“I will! Here.” Mona gestured toward the Heartwood lobby. “Someone needs to stay inside and look after the Heartwood. I don’t care if I don’t see you, or Henry, or…”
But at that very moment, she did see Henry.
He was right in front of her, peeking around the ballroom doorway. He looked crestfallen. How much had he heard? Before she could say anything, he disappeared. Suddenly it felt like Mona had swallowed a rock.
Tilly hadn’t seen him.
“FINE!” the squirrel cried. And with that, Tilly turned her back on Mona and huffed down the hall.
For a moment, Mona stood there, unsure what to do. Should she go after Henry? No. She’d only told the truth. Henry would find Tilly. They had each other. She didn’t need them.
Mona stormed down the hall, into the lobby, away from Tilly, away from the back door that led out to the courtyard and to the party.
Away from everyone.
Not everyone. There was still one guest left in the Heartwood. Caught up in her anger, Mona almost tripped over Skim the snail.
He was slowly inching down the hall. His glasses were polished so they shone. His shell, too. It looked like it was coated with a special glittery slime.
“Ah, Mona,” said Skim. “I hoped to encounter you!”
Mona took a deep breath to calm herself down.
“I read the guest books last night,” the snail continued.
“ALL of them?” Mona couldn’t believe it.
“I’m not a speed-reading champion for nothing.” Skim grinned.
“And…?” This was just what she needed. Mona’s heart hummed with hope. At last she’d find out what her parents had written.
“As I said, I read all the guest books. Did you know that the famous poet Tennyson the turtle stayed here?”
“And…” prompted Mona.
“And the cherished chipmunk author Louisa May Acorn?”
“And my parents,” said Mona.
“Yes, your parents,” replied the snail. “In regard to them, I am afraid there were no entries from mice named Madeline or Timothy.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positively.”
Immediately Mona’s heart sank.
Skim blinked several times. “Perhaps…” he started.
“Thank you,” Mona managed to choke out. She didn’t need to hear more. She knew what “positively” meant. She knew she shouldn’t have expected there to be an entry from her parents, but she had so wished there was. And, of course, Skim had to tell her the bad news now. What was the saying? Bad nuts always came in threes. Well, that was two.
Mona added a polite “Enjoy the party,” and made her way past the snail to the lobby, which was empty now. Everyone was outside. She didn’t even bother to get some books to sit on. She plunked down behind the front desk with an angry thump and disappeared from view.
Why did she and Tilly always have to fight? This time felt worse than ever. And it was all because of Henry.
Laughter carried in from outside as the grand celebration began. Someone must have left the back door open. The party was so loud. Even in the lobby. Especially since the Bluegrass Bandits and the Hippity Hoppers were playing at the same time. The two bands were still competing.
Mona could shut the door, but there was a part of her that wanted to listen. Even though it made her unhappier. When you are mad, sometimes it feels like the whole world is having fun, except for you. And in Mona’s case, it really seemed like it was.
Right when she thought she couldn’t stand it a second longer, Gilles shouted, “STOP!” and the music paused.
“Thank you all for coming to the Splash!” said Gilles enthusiastically. “Isn’t this the biggest? The fanciest? The SPLASHIEST? Isn’t the Heartwood the best hotel in all of Fernwood Forest?!”
The audience applauded in agreement.
“Now, it’s time for what you’ve all been waiting for—our grand-prize announcements. First, the results of the Cutest Egg Competition. The winner will receive this lovely eggshell mosaic.”
The audience cheeped and cheered.
“And…the prize goes to the Robinsons’ egg, Riley…” came Gilles’s shout.
“Rudy…!”
“Rona…!”
“Yes, yes,” said Gilles.
“Here you go! Now, aren’t you both glad you stayed for the Heartwood’s MARVELOUS Splash?”
“We are!” chirped Mr. Robinson.
“Careful, dear,” chided Mrs. Robinson.
There was a pause, and Mona figured they were carrying their egg off the stage. She could hear some birds still arguing: “They only won because their egg hasn’t hatched yet.”
Gilles continued, “Next we present the award for the Tiniest Talent Show, a teeny-tiny trophy. The winner? No surprises here…the Fernwood Flares!”
The audience began to clap again, but Gilles said, “Hold your applause, though. The Flares will be collecting their prize later. They are busy warming up inside. They have a fantastic show planned for us tonight. And,” the lizard added, “the final prize! May I have a drumroll, please!”
He got not one but two. And they grew louder and louder.
“OKAY! Thank you, Bandits and Hoppers. That’s enough. The prize for the Best Blossom, a free stay in the penthouse suite, goes to…Henry the squirrel.”
The audience exploded with cheers.
Henry had won! Mona couldn’t believe it.
“Henry?” came Gilles’s voice again, over the clapping. Mona imagined the little squirrel making his way to the stage, his tail growing bigger and bigger, fluffier and fluffier. Tilly would be looking on proudly.
Could this night get any worse?
Yes, it could. As if in answer to her question, Mona heard a shriek. A shriek that by now she recognized well.
The Robinsons. What had happened to their egg this time?
But it was more than the Robinsons’ egg.
RAT-A-TAT! RAT-A-TAT-A-TAT! Tony was sounding the alarm!
What was going on?
Mona knew it. She knew there was going to be trouble. She hadn’t seen hide nor quill of Mr. Quillson inside the hotel. He must be outside. He was trying to ruin the Splash. Had he punctured some of the lanterns? Tipped over the food table? Somehow made the stage collapse?
Or maybe it was Henry. Maybe one of his antics hadn’t ended well. At last Tilly would see the truth, how it was all his fault. He wouldn’t be able to save the day this time. But I will, thought Mona.
She slid down from the chair and ran to the back door, flinging it fully open.
But it wasn’t Mr. Quillson. Or Henry. Or even the Robinsons.
It was something far, far worse.
OWLS!
Four of them, gliding down from the night sky to attack. They were huge and gray, with feathered horns and eyes that blazed like forest fires. Not screech owls, or burrowing owls, or snowy owls. These were great horned owls, the wolves of the sky. But instead of howling or growling—or even hooting—they were spine-chillingly silent. Their sharp talons were extended and spread so wide they could pluck up a porcupine….
SWOOP! One was headed right for Ms. Prickles! Mr. Quillson threw himself at her, and together they tumbled, just in time, underneath the stage.
“HIDE! HIDE! HIDE!” cried Gilles, pushing other animals under the stage, too. It was the only safe place in the courtyard.
SWOOP! Another owl flew down, its talons almost catching Gilles’s tail before the lizard himself dove to safety.
SWOOP! This time an owl was headed right for Mona. She froze in the doorway.
“GO BACK, MONA! GO!” came a high-pitched shout. Was it Tilly?
Mona didn’t know, couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, as the owl, his beak bigger than her head, plunged toward her. His talons were reaching and his eyes were fixed on her. At least, one eye was.
The other eye was a mass of scars. The owl’s talons grazed Mona’s apron, tearing the little heart from it.
No! thought Mona. Tilly made that for me. In her moment of anger, her paws unfroze. She tumbled backward through the doorway and slammed the door shut, just in time, blocking the owl from sight.
As soon as she caught her breath, she rushed to the ballroom to peer out the window for a view of the back of the hotel.
Many of the lanterns had been smashed, but enough light remained for Mona to see the chaos in the courtyard.
Tables and chairs had been knocked over and petal pastries littered the lawn. All that was left on the stage were the instruments and sheet music in shreds. The animals, guests and staff alike, were huddled under the stage. Gilles, Ms. Prickles, and Mr. Quillson. Maggie and Maurice. Mr. and Mrs. Higgins. The Robinsons, clutching their egg. And the other birds and their chicks and hatchlings, eyes wide and unblinking, beaks open in horror. But where was Tilly? Mona squinted and could just make out her friend, her tail no longer curled neatly but a tangle of red. Tilly was crying. Where was Henry? He wasn’t beside Tilly.
Mona scoured the animals, searching, only to notice that all the guests and staff—the ones she could see anyway, were looking up.
A deep shiver ran down her spine, right to the tip of her tail.
Mona didn’t need the other animals’ gazes to know that the owls were there, roosting on the Heartwood’s branches. She could feel it in her whiskers, and she could hear them, too—chilling hoots, the only music now at the Splash.
The Splash! That’s what had caused this. Mona remembered the flyers far out in the forest, floating free for any owl to see, the arguing and shrieks at the Cutest Egg Competition, the loud applause and bright lights of the Tiniest Talent Show, and the blossoms, like beacons, drawing attention, good and bad, to the tree.
“Sleep in safety, eat in earnest, and be happy at the Heartwood.” That was one of Mr. Heartwood’s mottos. But they had all forgotten it. No one was safe or happy now. Mr. Heartwood would never have been so careless.
But Mr. Heartwood wasn’t there. She was all alone. It was up to her to save the hotel. With the wolves, and in the snow, she always had others’ help.
If only there was someone. Tilly, or Ms. Prickles, or even Gilles. Without anyone there—what would she do? Never had Mona felt so scared.
CRACK! An owl swooped down and crushed a lantern with its talons, putting out the light. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Suddenly all was dark. A chorus of panicked voices cried for help.
Mona stumbled back across the room, in a panic now herself. Her heel struck something—a root?—and she fell down and started to cry.
Hopeless, helpless sobs.
And then she heard crying that wasn’t her own. It was faint and seemed to be coming from below her, as though from the root itself.
She knew the tree was alive, but it couldn’t cry. She wiped her nose and listened very closely. Yes, there was definitely crying.
Mona pressed her ear against the root. The sound was much louder. She felt around until she came to a surprise: a small hollow, a handle—a door!
Mona tugged the handle, but had to use both paws before the trapdoor creaked open. There was a light from below, a lantern flickering halfway down a small staircase.
“Hello?” she whispered. No one answered.
The crying had stopped. She took a few tentative steps down the stairs and peered into the shadows. At the bottom was a cramped space, and—were those silhouettes she saw? Was this a secret tunnel from the courtyard? Maybe the guests and staff had rescued themselves!
“Hello!” Mona called again, eagerly, hurrying down the last steps, only to be disappointed. They were only costumes, hanging from hooks on the walls. There was Mr. Heartwood’s red cap and bag from when he dressed up as St. Slumber, and some other outfits, too. There was even a wedding dress that was full of holes, as though it had been munched by a moth or worn by a porcupine.
This must be a secret changing room, thought Mona.
Or maybe not-so-secret. One of the costumes moved. There was somebody there.
“Hello?” Mona said again.
Still no one answered. But the costume shifted and revealed a red tail she would recognize anywhere.
“Henry?” said Mona. Mona pushed the costume aside, and there was the little squirrel, sniffling and rubbing his eyes.
“Oh, Henry!” She threw her
paws around him. But he pulled back at once.
“What are you doing down here?” said Mona. “Did you hear, see, smell…?”
“Uh-huh,” he sniffled. “You…don’t want me. I don’t belong here….”
Right away she knew he wasn’t hiding from the owls. He was hiding from her!
Henry must have come down here right after he heard the fight between her and Tilly. Before she could say anything, however, he gave an extra-big sniffle. “I’m just trying…trying my best….Maybe I shouldn’t be here. Maybe I should go back to Hood’s.”
“Oh.” Mona gulped. “You heard me talking to Tilly, didn’t you?”
He nodded and sniffled. “I know you don’t want me here. I don’t belong.”
It struck her how his words sounded like her own, like the conversation she had in the fall with Tilly when she was new to the Heartwood, and Tilly was treating her badly. Tilly was worried she would lose her job to Mona and hadn’t made Mona feel welcome. Mona wasn’t scared she’d lose her job to Henry, but she was afraid of losing something.
She moved closer to the squirrel. There wasn’t much space, but enough. Room for two.
“I’m sorry for what I said. Really, Henry. I…I was just afraid.”
“Afraid?” he squeaked.
“Yes,” said Mona. “Afraid of losing my place here…afraid everyone liked you better than me.” She looked at the little squirrel.
“But everyone LOVES you!” said Henry, astonished. “All the guests know your name. Ms. Prickles says you’re good with your paws. Gilles says you have the best ideas, and Tilly wishes her heart was as big as yours.”
“Really?” said Mona, smiling. But the smile quickly disappeared. “Tilly…” Mona’s voice caught.
“What’s the matter?” said Henry.
“Tilly’s trapped outside because…”
Henry’s eyes widened.
Mona didn’t want to scare him; still, he needed to know the truth.
Heartwood Hotel Book 3 Page 5
