by Rachel Tey
“Come forth, don’t be afraid,” the Queen called out. “I won’t hurt you.”
Moments later, a girl emerged from behind the bushes. Against the flames of Persephone’s torch, her hair shone like bright copper. The child had pale skin with a smattering of freckles and her eyes were green like emeralds.
“Are you lost?” the Queen asked.
When the girl opened her mouth to speak, Persephone could not hear a thing, because the music had stopped.
Orpheus’s music was so beguiling Persephone had fallen asleep without even realizing it.
“What’s the matter?” she asked sharply, both irritated and disoriented.
“I’m sorry, my Lady, but I was thinking of Eurydice again. When I miss her too much, I tend to forget the notes.”
“Ah yes, Eurydice.” The Queen crossed her arms and sat up straight. “You must love her deeply.”
“Indeed I do,” Orpheus replied, meeting her gaze. Persephone studied his piercing blue eyes and saw in them bravery and determination. How many mortals could claim to have crossed the chasm between the living and dead in search of their lover? Most would call it a suicide mission, for no soul had ever returned once they were rowed across the pitch-black waters of Acheron.
“This tune you keep playing, what’s it called?” she asked.
“My Lady, I’m still thinking of a suitable name for it, but for now I’ve decided to call it Mélodie.”
“It has a very distinctive sound.”
“Thank you, my Lady. It is my hope that once Eurydice hears it, she’ll know that I’ve come for her.”
The Queen was impressed by such optimism, even if misplaced. She was aware that Orpheus’s bride was presently in the court of Hades, and it was the King of the Underworld, not her, who would decide upon their fates. If it were up to her, she’d gladly reunite the lovers – not by releasing them back into the mortal realm, but by keeping them both here. To her, that seemed like a win-win solution: the couple would not be separated, and Persephone could continue to enjoy Orpheus’s beautiful music.
But the young man was determined with his plans. “I beseech you, my Lady. Tell me what price I have to pay to bring Eurydice back with me to the Overworld.”
Persephone sighed. “Tis not up to me, Orpheus. You’ll soon have an audience with the King, but for now Hades has asked that you remain in my court and play for me.”
“It is my honor and privilege to be your musician, my Lady.”
His fingers went back to the lyre and the persuasive sounds of Mélodie once again swept through the darkened halls, enthralling everything in its path. As he played, the flames from Persephone’s torch began to dance with every note, and she soon found herself encircled by spectacular ribbons of fire.
She could hardly believe the power of his music. Looking around her court, she saw that no one was immune to the effect of Mélodie. Her ladies-inwaiting had gathered around Orpheus, staring at him with forlorn and mesmerized faces, and the dead-eyed souls that had been wandering aimlessly at the fringes of her court rushed inside, right past Cerberus, her three-headed guard dog. On a typical day, it was hard to get past the hellish hound, who was ever ready to pounce at his mistress’s command. But today, he was curled up into a ball, all three pairs of his eyes glazing over wistfully.
When the piece eventually came to an end, the grand blaze surrounding Persephone whittled down to its original size, and souls began to stream out of court, retreating into the shadows. Cerberus was once again alert and back on his feet.
“What shall we do with you, Orpheus?” the Queen lamented. “I should like to hear Mélodie every day if I could, and will miss you if Hades does decide to return you and Eurydice to the Overworld.”
Orpheus tucked his lyre under his arm. His fingers were red from the intensive strumming and he was exhausted, not having slept in days. “You’ve been kind to me, my Lady, and I’ll do anything you ask if it guarantees Eurydice’s release.”
Persephone reclined in her golden throne, thoughtful. “When you first played, I had a curious dream about a girl in a forest. At this time tomorrow, come back to my court and play for me. I wish to return to that dream and find out what happens.”
The Day after Belzerac
That night, Belle dreamed she was back in Belzerac, and deep within its Sapphire Forest.
Alone, lost, and looking for a way out, she was running through the cold and foggy woods. Without a clue where she was heading, only that she had to keep going, she could hear her heart thumping wildly in her chest as her bare feet pounded the mossy forest floor.
But then a bright orange glare emanated from behind one of the trees, followed by the sound of steady footsteps.
“Come forth, don’t be afraid,” a female voice called out. “I won’t hurt you.”
Belle stopped in her tracks.
In a few moments, she saw the source of the burning light. A tall, elegant lady emerged, wielding a handheld torch. She was overdressed for a hiker, decked in a long purple robe and wearing a jeweled crown on her head – but then again, Belle herself was a curious sight, complete with ratty pajamas, disheveled hair, and bare feet.
The stranger looked kind and eager to help. “Are you lost?” she asked.
Under the blaze of the torch flame, Belle felt warmer and calmer. She looked back into the woman’s black eyes and opened her mouth to speak, but then something strange happened.
Instead of words, noises came tumbling out like the buzz of an alarm clock.
The jangle of Éric’s phone alarm awoke Belle with a start. It was morning and she was in bed.
What a bizarre dream she’d had.
Rubbing sleep out of her eyes, she looked around her empty bedroom.
Surely someone would’ve come home by now?
Jumping out of bed, Belle rushed into her parents’ and brother’s rooms, but saw that their beds were immaculate and not even slept in. A quick inspection around the house and an empty driveway also confirmed her nagging suspicion that nobody had come home last night.
What would she do now?
Tess and Julien.
The two classmates who’d journeyed to and back from Belzerac sprang to mind. Belle hadn’t seen them since they’d jointly passed through Monsieur L’Arbre’s gilded doorway and re-entered Michelmont. Were they now back in their own homes like she was? She hadn’t a clue, but she would see them in school very shortly and find out.
Belle washed up and got herself ready quickly, changing into her school uniform and shoes, and pulling her curly red hair back into a ponytail. She slung on her backpack, which was stuffed with textbooks and long overdue assignments, and opened the calendar app on her brother’s phone.
It was now a Wednesday, exactly seven days since she and Julien had ventured into Belzerac to find Tess. A lot could happen in that time. Her family likely called the police to lodge a missing person’s report. Perhaps they were out looking for her right now … but surely they’d still come home to sleep at night? Her mind raced with endless possibilities.
She went downstairs to scrape together a quick breakfast – dry cereal, for there was no more milk in the fridge. Opening the kitchen cabinets, Belle saw that they were bare. She would worry about food supplies later, she decided, as she ate her breakfast quickly.
Please, God, let Tess and Julien be on the school bus, she prayed silently, as her school bus pulled up in front of her house, its rubber tires screeching to a slow halt.
Once outside, the sight of the large yellow vehicle made her nervous. She kept her eyes down, afraid to look directly into the faces of the driver and passengers lest she discovered that they were complete strangers.
No, please, no.
The double doors swung open with a dramatic clap and Belle looked up. It was at this precise moment that she heard a familiar voice – deep and throaty.
“Bonjour, Mademoiselle Belle,” said François the Fox, with a courteous nod. “I’ll be driving you to school today.”
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How he’d crept into Michelmont she had no idea, and further, there were no passengers on the bus.
She stood at the foot of the bus, deciding if she should enter.
“Won’t you come on in, my dear?” he asked again. If the impeccably mannered fox was feeling the least bit impatient, his polite voice betrayed no sign of it. “All will be explained once we arrive in school.”
Belle wondered if she could trust the fox. Apart from their one and only encounter in the magical world that lay beyond Tea in Pajamas, she only knew him as the leader and first violinist of the Musicians, Belzerac’s mysterious string quartet. Together with Nicole the Nightingale, Simone the Squirrel, and Raymond the Rabbit, the Musicians were famous for music so sublime it could lull audiences into hypnotic reveries.
Today, however, François was without his accompanying instrumentalists, and had swapped his violin for a steering wheel. He looked extremely convincing in his new role too, sporting a red baseball cap and navy-blue school bus driver uniform.
Well, thought Belle, here we go.
Belle’s ride to school was bumpy one.
Throughout the journey, the fox slammed the brakes unnecessarily, cut lanes without prior warning, and made abrupt turns. When the vehicle finally pulled up outside Lutetia Elementary School, she was exceptionally relieved to have arrived in one piece.
“ Nous sommes arrivés!” François exclaimed, pulling up the handbrakes and switching off the ignition.
Belle took a quick glance out of the window. Everything looked normal as far as she could tell. Children were being dropped off by their parents, others were sitting on benches or standing around chatting, and the campus grounds were buzzing with human traffic and chatter.
Might Tess or Julien be among the hordes of people?
“Allons-y, Mademoiselle Belle.” In all the time she’d spent lost in her thoughts, François had parked the vehicle, got up from his driver’s seat, and was now by her side, offering to escort her into school.
“People are going to be shocked to see you,” she said, following him down the bus.
“I’ll be discreet,” he chuckled, as if his appearance as a human-sized, bipedal fox was the least of his concerns. “But are you ready?”
Some of François’s self-confidence must have rubbed off on her, because Belle felt a sense of renewed enthusiasm come over her.
“Yes, I think so.”
Meanwhile in Class
“Stop fiddling with your hair,” muttered Tess, irritated at how Julien was repeatedly touching his head.
Julien Edgehawk’s spiky hair still had specks of blue in them, thanks to his trek through Belzerac’s Sapphire Forest. Two bottles of shampoo had managed to get most of it off, but he was still self-conscious.
Great, he thought with dismay, maybe the kids will go from calling me Julien Hedgehog to Julien the BLUE Hedgehog.
Tess’s jet-black tresses were immaculate, however. As always, she accessorized her chic bob with her trademark navy headband.
They were presently seated in the classroom, waiting for English period to begin. Mrs Candy Wilson was running late and the anticipation of having to explain their past week’s absence was making them both nervous. The important thing was to corroborate the “facts.”
Tess had pieced together an incredibly detailed account to explain their weeklong absence from Michelmont. This would be the official story: Belle, Tess, and Julien had decided to take a spontaneous day trip to another town to visit a famous museum. But after a two-hour train ride, they came down with a bad bout of food poisoning, which delayed their scheduled return. And having run out of money, they had to hitchhike their way back. However, the only driver willing to give them a ride first had to run several errands. This long detour set them back by another few days.
The plot was the stuff of pure fiction, but even the adults couldn’t deny that it seemed plausible. Besides, the children’s stories matched and there was nothing their respective parents could do but accept the story at face value, or at least until they got to the bottom of things.
Julien didn’t like lying, but what was the alternative? The truth was that Tea in Pajamas – a Wednesday afternoon ritual that transported bare-footed, pajama-clad kids into a world of talking animals and a blue forest – was much crazier.
“Where’s Belle?” he asked, noticing her empty chair.
“Don’t know,” Tess shrugged, “didn’t see her on the school bus this morning.”
“But she was supposed to have returned yesterday, like we did,” Julien whispered, suddenly no longer self-conscious about his hair.
He watched Tess’s brows knit themselves into a worried expression. “We’ll have to go to her house after school to see if she’s there.”
Julien tried to keep his voice down despite his mounting anxiety. “And what if she’s not there?”
“Let’s just see what happens,” Tess insisted.
“Good morning, children!” chirped Mrs Wilson, their English teacher. The petite, bespectacled lady entered the classroom with a stack of assignments in her arms. She was wearing a pink turtleneck sweater and tartan skirt, and her brunette hair was pulled back into a loose, messy bun.
“Good morning, Mrs Wilson,” said everyone in unison.
“I’ve read most of your book reviews,” she went on, fumbling through a pile of papers, “and I must say some of you had very interesting things to say about the plots and character developments.”
As she walked around the classroom distributing sets of stapled pages to various children, she paused at individual desks to give specific comments. “Layla Rose, excellent observation on Teddy Smith’s tendency to bring out the worst in the main character. Michael Cox, are you at all sure the true villain is the town butcher? Let’s see, who else do we have – aha! – Amy Lee, a little carried away with the metaphors. I highly doubt the author meant for every object and person in his book to be symbolic … ”
Mrs Wilson sashayed indifferently past the adjoining desks of Tess and Julien without noticing them at first. But she soon turned around, did a double take, and let out a loud gasp.
“Oh my goodness, Mr Edgehawk and Miss Brown, where’ve you been this past week? The entire school’s been sick with worry!”
All eyes panned to Tess and Julien as they stood to acknowledge their wide-eyed and almost hysterical English teacher.
“Hello Mrs Wilson, yes we’re back and we’re quite all right, thank you for your concern,” said Tess with a polite smile. Under her desk, however, she kicked Julien’s foot with her shoe, urging him to back her up with a similar response.
“Y-yes Mrs Wilson, everything is okay, and we’re very sorry to have worried everyone,” he stammered.
Their teacher nodded. It looked like she was on the verge of saying something, but instead she flashed that trademark smile of hers and proceeded to distribute the remaining assignments to the class.
“Children, as you know it’s been a week since I’ve last seen these two, so we have some catching up to do. Please excuse us while we speak in private – we shan’t be long. In the meantime, I’d like everyone to read over my comments on your book reviews.”
“Let’s pop over to the teachers’ lounge for a bit. I’ll make some tea, and you can fill me in on everything,” said Mrs Wilson, once they stepped out of the classroom.
“That sounds very nice,” said Tess, smiling sweetly, while Julien nodded.
This seemed to delight their teacher, who hurried them along, her heels clacking noisily against the wooden floorboards.
Meanwhile, Julien’s heart thumped rapidly in his chest as he struggled to think of what to do or say once the “interrogation” began. Tess, walking beside him, wore an inscrutable expression that suggested neither concern nor indifference.
Finally, they arrived at the teachers’ lounge at the end of the hallway, just adjacent to the office of Madam Vera Gold, the school principal – and the children saw Mrs Wilson hesitate, as if deci
ding whether it might be a better idea to drop in on Madam Gold first.
Julien could feel his palms getting clammy. It was one thing to have a conversation over tea with his English teacher, but entirely intimidating to come face to face with their principal.
“Are we heading inside the teachers’ lounge, Mrs Wilson?” asked Tess.
“Why, yes, of course,” she replied, taking her eyes off Principal Gold’s closed office door. “Right this way.”
As they entered an airy room furnished with plush sofas and equipped with a well-stocked pantry, Tess mouthed “phew” to Julien. They both hoped their “story” would be credible enough to satisfy their teacher so they could resume their plan of going to Belle’s place later. Nothing was certain until they knew if their friend had returned safely to Michelmont.
The teachers’ lounge was empty for the moment, which afforded them plenty of privacy. “Sit wherever you like,” Mrs Wilson said, while she made a fresh pot of tea and opened a new packet of chocolate biscuits. It wasn’t every day that Lutetia students got to sneak out of lessons – legitimately – and indulge in sugary treats. This made Julien suppose they weren’t in any sort of big trouble.
“Here we go.” Mrs Wilson returned to their table with a large tray. “I took the liberty of adding milk and sugar for you – I hope you like your tea rich and sweet. Also, no one your age has ever said no to chocolate biscuits, so I think I took a safe gamble.” She settled herself into a chair facing the children and urged them to start eating, which they did obediently.
A good five to ten minutes passed as they all ate and drank in silence, Mrs Wilson only reclining in her armchair and studying them from behind her black-rimmed glasses.
It was Tess who eventually broke the awkward silence. “Did you have questions for us, Mrs Wilson?”
Their teacher smiled. “As you know, today’s Wednesday, and it’ll be three o’clock in just a few hours.”
