“It would rain fish for a week!” Kolt said. “We need to find it a black hole to chew on. A Black Hole Muncher is designed to break apart a mass to lessen its gravitational pull.”
“So the explosion is big?”
“Massive!” said Kolt.
“Vispoth!” Gertie nodded. “Only a genius of a computer could have come up with such a plan.”
“Why didn’t it stick to making hot chocolate!?” snapped Kolt. “WHY!”
“What’s chocolate?” asked Birdy. “I’ve completely forgotton.”
Kolt’s expression suddenly turned from fear to fierce determination. “We must find a way to return the lost robot ant and get this bomb into space—otherwise Birdy will never try my cocoa nib pie with cinnamon crust and custard cream.”
Then Gertie remembered something.
“The Russian space rocket in the garden!”
“That tin can! It’s falling apart, we’d never make it. . . .”
“But we don’t have to blast up into space,” Birdy reminded them. “Just travel through time and appear there, right? Surely one of those rockets could withstand a bit of floating?”
Kolt grimaced. “Well, I suppose there’s a tiny, tiny chance that it might work.”
“How tiny?”
Kolt thought for a moment. “Smaller than the robotic ant’s blue flashing toenail when it was a baby.”
“Seriously?”
“How should I know?” Kolt said. “You haven’t seen the state of that rocket. It’s rusted through!”
“It’s still a chance,” said Birdy, holding his magnifying glass to an egg-shaped piece of metal on the floor.
“Eggcup mush dollop butter lavender potato, mashed.”
“You’re right, Robot Rabbit Boy, this is all we’ve got,” Kolt said reluctantly. “So let’s do it—let’s get this Muncher back into space where it belongs—but let’s take as many of these trouble-making hands with us as we can so they can’t build anything else . . . just to be on the safe side.”
“We can stuff them into the yellow backpacks,” said Birdy.
“Eek! We have to touch them?” Gertie said. “Can’t I carry the bomb instead?”
“No!”
“Can I just pick up the dead ones then?”
Kolt gave her a stern look. “The dead ones can stay behind, it’s the live ones we need to get rid of. And if we survive this,” he told them, “and that’s a big ‘if,’ then I’m going to come back down here and set growler traps for the ones we can’t take.”
* * *
‹‹ • • • ››
A SHORT TIME LATER, with as many of the live robot hands as they could carry wriggling about in the yellow backpacks, the worn-out Keepers began climbing the round, metal staircase that would take them up to ground level. Gertie wasn’t thrilled with the prospect of having to climb yet another set of steps, as they must have been miles and miles from the cottage. She was still exhausted from their afternoon ascent in the rain from the beach. And she could feel the hands scrabbling around in her backpack.
“This is so gross!” she said. “I’m okay with most things, but wriggling robot hands really freak me out.”
“Maybe this is all some kind of dream,” Birdy told her, “though I would certainly miss you if I woke up.”
“I thought it was a dream too when I first arrived,” Gertie said, “but then I woke up and was still here.”
“Weird,” Birdy said, struggling under the weight of robot hands in his backpack.
* * *
‹‹ • • • ››
THEY FINALLY ARRIVED AT a large metal door. Kolt opened it with his Keepers’ key and they went through into a dark room.
“I don’t believe it!” Gertie said, looking around at the fireplace, the long table, and the tapestry on the wall. Kolt lit some candles, and light filled the room. They had come through the door that said EXIT ONLY, and were back in the Gate Keepers’ Lodge near the Line of Stones.
When George came flying out of her hole, it gave Birdy quite a fright. She stood up on her back legs and squeaked quickly at Kolt.
“Yes, yes,” he explained. “This is indeed a new Keeper. His name is Birdy—but he’s not yours I’m afraid, though you’ve done an excellent job of tidying up.”
George squeaked angrily.
“When you saw him it got your hopes up?”
The mouse nodded.
“Well, we can’t discuss it now, George, we need to get a bomb into Earth space in the year 2618, so . . .”
George squeaked.
“You want to come with us?”
The mouse pulled down both her eyelids.
“You’re bored here?”
George nodded yes, that she was, indeed, extremely bored.
“But . . .” Kolt said, “this is a life-or-death mission!”
George squeaked again, and saluted Kolt and the other Keepers.
“I know you’re brave . . . how about once we get rid of this bomb we’ll come and get you. Maybe you can live in the cottage with us as a house mouse, at least until we find you a new Gate Keeper?”
George clapped her paws together with excitement.
“That is . . .” Kolt whispered to Gertie and Birdy, “if we make it back.”
* * *
‹‹ • • • ››
ONCE THEY HAD CLIMBED the steps to the secret stone doorway, Gertie peeked out to make sure there were no tapirs, then gave the other Keepers the all-clear.
In the fresh air, they tore off their heavy yellow backpacks and collapsed onto a patch of rough grass and weeds, sweating and exhausted. Gertie felt her body relax after shedding the weight, and the wind was soothing and cool on her warm skin.
“Everyone breathe!” Kolt said, sucking down mouthfuls of cool Skuldarkian wind. “Brrreeeeaaaathe.”
“What now?” Gertie said. “That bomb clock is still ticking and we’re almost a day’s walk from the cottage—we’ll blow up by the time we get back to the garden.”
“It could always be worse,” Kolt said, staring at the bomb, and the small plastic tub with the hand and the insect in it.
But then it got worse.
“Look!” cried Birdy. The robot hands had torn through the yellow fabric of the backpacks and were escaping into the tall grass where they would be impossible to find.
“Oh no!” shouted Kolt. “We can’t let them escape; they’ll go right back to bedroom 782 SE and make another bomb!”
Everyone got up and chased after the despicable limbs. But no matter how quickly the exhausted Keepers ran, they couldn’t keep up with the mischievous hands. Soon, they all lay on the grass, doubled over with exhaustion.
Gertie was starting to feel afraid now. She couldn’t think of one single thing that might save them from the Black Hole Muncher’s explosive wrath. Within a few hours, they would either be dead, or lost somewhere in time without a home to return to.
She wondered if the Losers had finally succeeded in their quest to destroy the Keepers of Lost Things. And to think that her own brother might have been a part of it. She thought they had been making progress by rescuing a Keeper, and felt certain they could rescue more. But they had all underestimated the Losers. They’d managed to bring Birdy here, but he was going to die. They were supposed to be the Keepers of Lost Things, the guardians of objects. . . . Wait that’s it! Gertie thought, interrupting herself.
“Kolt, Kolt!”
The old Keeper sat up quickly.
“The Guardians of Skuldark you were telling me about! Remember the moth who guided us when Robot Rabbit Boy was lost? Those creatures who come together to protect our island. Can they help us? How do we call them?”
“Gertie, that’s it! They’re our ticket home!” he said. “There’s only one way to summon them. Quick, everyone, on your feet
, take out your Keepers’ keys!”
They did as instructed, except Robot Rabbit Boy, who didn’t have one and seemed embarrassed.
“Mush . . . room?”
“Share mine!” Gertie said, and he reached out a paw so they were holding it together.
“Now listen carefully,” Kolt instructed, “if you look directly into the barrel, you’ll see a small hole. Follow what I do,” he said, and raised the key slowly to his lips. “Blow into the hole in the key!”
Gertie, Birdy, Kolt, and Robot Rabbit Boy exhaled with great force through the tiny hole in the keys.
The sound was tremendous, as though every bird in the world had begun to sing at the same moment. Gertie wanted to cover her ears it was so loud, such a mess of whistles and chirps.
“Catch your breath!” Kolt shouted. “But keep blowing!”
The “Music of the Guardians” call wrapped around the island, soon heard by every living creature, from the biggest to the smallest—even those spirit animals composed of light and shadow, ancient creatures as old as time itself.
When Kolt stopped blowing, the other Keepers lowered their keys too, panting for breath.
“What . . . was . . . that?” asked Birdy.
Kolt smiled. “You’re about to find out. Now, prepare yourselves, for what you are about to see may shock you.”
31
The Guardians of Skuldark
“THAT SOUND WE MADE was a distress call to the Guardians of Skuldark.”
“Who are they?” asked Birdy.
“All creatures on Skuldark possess some magical ability,” Kolt explained, “but there is one every generation who is chosen to be the Guardian, either for its strength, speed, agility, intelligence—or even good judgment.”
“And we just summoned them!” Gertie said proudly, noticing a faint rumbling under her feet.
“Brace yourselves!” Kolt said, as the air vibrated with a low buzz, accompanied by the sounds of snapping tree branches from far across the prairie, in the depths of Fern Valley.
“What’s that thudding?” said Birdy, his eyes growing with alarm. Everyone spread their feet for balance as the ground trembled.
Within a few moments, dark lumps appeared on the horizon.
“Here they come,” Kolt said.
“What will happen when they get here?” Gertie wanted to know.
“Er, I have no idea. I’ve never summoned them before, and to be honest, had my doubts it would even work.”
Then they heard a high-pitched buzzing, as though a giant swarm of flies were approaching.
“Attercoppes?” said Gertie, as the noise intensified.
“Attercoppes, tapirs, every living thing!” Kolt cried. “But don’t worry, when the Guardians are summoned, it is for the good of the island—and creatures normally dangerous to Keepers will do no harm, as we unite against a common enemy!”
Then the ground in front of them actually tore open as a brown, hairy dog-like creature with the head of a horse and bright red glowing eyes appeared from the earth. After shaking the soil off, it stood there shooting a string-like tongue in and out of its mouth, staring at the four Keepers.
Kolt bowed. “Welcome, Orispian Tunneler!”
Then from the sky came a dark figure, which hovered over their heads. It was a spider the size of a cat, with buzzing black leathery wings and glossy eyes moving in all directions. In the distance, high up in the sky, Attercoppes from every hive on the island hovered in close ranks, awaiting their queen’s command.
“Greetings to you, queen of the arachnids, ferocious Attercoppe,” Kolt said, nodding in homage. Gertie gulped, and decided to bow too—just to be on the safe side.
Then a familiar sight came thundering toward them across the grassy plain, its hooves tearing up the soft earth, its white mane bouncing with each gyrating muscle.
“Noble Tapir,” Kolt shouted, raising his arms in greeting.
Then another animal broke up through the ground beside the hairy dog-like one. It was a clear earthworm, but inside its transparent ringed skin was actual fire.
“Warm blessings, Night Blazer, ancient ancestor to all creatures of luminosity.”
Then an innocent-looking yellow bird landed on Birdy’s shoulder.
“My old friend,” said Kolt, “the Northern-Spotted Blade.” Gertie looked at the bird closely, noticing knife-like yellow feathers that extended past its body and were dotted with red specks she hoped weren’t blood.
Birdy turned to smile, and the bird chirped and ruffled its wings.
Then a larger-than-usual Slug Lamp appeared. Robot Rabbit Boy stepped forward personally to welcome it.
“Lavender mush room butter cup eggs!”
The Slug Lamp seemed to understand what he meant and wriggled its sluggy body.
Soon, the four Keepers of Lost Things were surrounded by creatures of all colors, sizes, habits, and moods—Gertie even saw one of the white dodo birds she had befriended that very first morning on Skuldark.
Kolt turned to his fellow Keepers. “Don’t be afraid,” he said, “but there are also invisible animals here, and even a creature made entirely of gas called a Psss-Psss-Psss, which eats its victims from the inside after being inhaled.”
With all the Guardians present, Kolt raised his arms to address the group. Gertie had never heard him take on such a commanding tone. She started to realize how powerful a Keeper Kolt was—even if most of the time he played the fool.
“Skuldarkians . . . thank you . . .” he said, “for heeding the Guardians’ music, the ancient song to bind beast of land to creatures of air, magic mist to unseen mite, dutiful Keeper to the shadow jackdaws of Ravens’ Peak. I salute each one of you in this moment of much-needed friendship, when our home is threatened with annihilation.”
“How do they know what Kolt is saying?” Birdy whispered. Gertie explained that the language of Skuldark was understood by every living creature, though understanding the animals themselves took a bit of practice.
Kolt told the Guardians they had to get across the island to the cottage on the cliff as quickly as possible, along with the Black Hole Muncher, the plastic tub with the robot ant, and the robot hands they had brought—which must be found at all costs. That wasn’t all. Gertie listened as Kolt went on to say that until the Keepers returned to Skuldark from this mission, the noble creatures must guard every entrance to the secret passages of their worlds, from the Tunnels of Bodwin to the moon shadows that form doorways on the snow.
“And should we NOT return, my friends,” Kolt went on, holding up his Keepers’ key, “then any person or creature who arrives not in possession of this object, this ancient talisman of our sacred home, you must ravage, stamp, suffocate, and sting, until new Keepers come and order is restored.”
“Smush fly,” whispered Robot Rabbit Boy, gazing down at the Slug Lamp, who blinked one eye in understanding.
* * *
‹‹ • • • ››
ONCE KOLT HAD FINISHED his call to arms, there was a great buzzing, shuffling of hooves, and flapping of wings as the many creatures moved in all different directions in a bid to fulfill their sacred tasks.
“That seemed to go well,” Kolt said cheerfully as they watched Attercoppes descend upon the fields in search of the escaped robot hands.
“You sounded great,” Gertie told him. “Totally convincing.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“No! It was a good speech.”
“Well, thanks. Do you remember hearing it before?”
“No, how could I?”
“Because I sort of copied it from the insect pirate movie.”
“What’s the plan now?” Birdy interrupted, noticing the digital clock on the bomb still counting down.
“The Guardians will choose which of you they will carry across the island to the Gard
en of Lost Things,” Kolt explained. “Let’s meet up at the rockets when we get there. Just remember to hold on tight, and put all your trust in our noble friends, no matter which route they take to get us home.”
“Which route?” Birdy said. “Isn’t there only one quickest way?”
“You’ll see . . .” said Kolt, as a tapir came right up to him. Kolt grabbed a few strands of the creature’s ropey mane, and pulled himself onto the animal’s back.
Birdy was chosen by the Orispian Tunneler, who embraced the young Keeper in its furry, dog-like paws, then disappeared quickly into the earth with the boy firmly in its grasp.
Robot Rabbit Boy couldn’t have been happier when he discovered his Guardian to be the Queen of Slug Lamps. Robot Rabbit Boy got on her back, and within seconds they inched off quickly.
With the other Keepers already returning to the cottage, Gertie thought she’d been forgotten. But then there was a great billowing of air behind her, and she turned to see a gigantic white moth with a furry body the size of a sheep, with wings the length of her Spitfire. The insect’s eyes were round and black—two shiny balls in which Gertie could see herself reflected. Rising up from its head were long antennae, like two feathers, that sensed even the tiniest vibrations in the air.
The giant moth rolled its body to one side so that Gertie could climb onto its back. It was very soft, and she held on by gripping thick tufts of moth fur. With a single flap of its powdery wings, they were in the air, fluttering high over the plains until they were caught by a current of wind that took them sailing toward the cottage.
Although Gertie had been up in a 1940s Spitfire airplane and a 1920s Halton Mayfly, flying on the back of a living creature was a completely different experience. It was as though her heart was joined to the creature’s heart. They were united in trust, gliding over an ocean of blowing trees and meadows. Gertie wanted to pet the creature, even try and speak to it—but the force of the wind was so immense, she was afraid of rolling off its back and falling to earth.
Gertie Milk and the Great Keeper Rescue Page 19
