by George Hagen
He stretched, wiggled his toes, and took a deep breath. “Mmm!” he sighed. His time in the stiff metal cage had made him appreciate simple things.
It was only after he dressed that Gabriel remembered what he had learned from his stay in Pleshette’s shop. Septimus Geiger had found runes from Aviopolis, and one of them was likely to contain his mother!
This propelled him to talk to his father, but as he padded down the second set of stairs, he heard voices.
“Adam, old friend, I need to have an honest word with you.”
Gabriel halted on the staircase. He recognized Septimus’s voice, and remembered that the scavenger had promised Pleshette he would pay his father a visit.
“An honest word? Septimus, this is not like you,” Adam said with a gentle laugh.
“My raven has heard rumors that Corax’s spirit is commanding a very dangerous little robin who seeks his release. We must speak the truth to each other about these runes.”
“You want to speak the truth?” Mr. Finley said skeptically. “Then I propose we drink a Flaming Truth Toddy—the elixir of honesty.”
Septimus looked distressed. “But I thought the recipe was lost hundreds of years ago. At least, I hoped—”
“Well, my stove happens to make the tastiest one in town,” said Adam.
“Must we?” said Septimus with reluctance. “Honesty is like red pepper—good for you only in small amounts.”
The men stepped toward the stove. Adam kneeled down and whispered a request into the oven door.
Suddenly, there was a loud clank and the stove burst into action. Two mechanical arms began whipping up a concoction in a small copper pot until it glowed a brilliant blue. Then the arms poured this elixir into two glass tumblers and topped them with a flickering orange flame.
Adam and Septimus faced the stove, opening their mouths. The mechanical arms threw the toddies at them, and for a terrifying moment, Gabriel thought his father was going to burn to a crisp. Instead, however, they were bathed in a bright light for just a moment before a SHAZZAP!
The two men slumped contentedly into their chairs. “Delicious!” said Mr. Finley.
“The truth is tastier than I expected,” conceded Septimus, patting down the smoke that curled around his coat. He looked curiously at Mr. Finley. “Be honest, Adam, what do you really think of me?”
“I think you’re still as cunning as a fox and as slippery as an eel,” Mr. Finley replied.
This satisfied Septimus that the drink was true to its name. “Well,” he replied, “I think you’re annoyingly well-intentioned and I hate your socks.”
Adam raised his trouser hem and nodded. “I don’t like them, either. Now, please, tell me about these runes.”
“Oh, they’re probably not worth much to anyone—”
Suddenly, blue smoke began to rise from Septimus’s trousers. He sprang up. “Good heavens! What is happening?”
“You drank a Flaming Truth Toddy, Septimus,” Adam reminded him. “Telling a lie sets your pants on fire.”
Septimus hopped around the room fanning his trousers. “I mean that one rune may be very valuable!”
The smoke vanished, and Septimus sank cautiously back into his chair.
“Oh, Septimus,” said Adam, laughing. “You and I both know that disappeared souls wind up in runes, and therefore Corax must be in one of them. I presume another rune contains your old friend, the raven Crawfin, and my dear wife, Tabitha, is in the third.”
Septimus looked dismayed by Adam’s swift guess, but then he seemed to realize his advantage. “Very good, Adam….So we both have something to gain by working together. Help me free Corax and Crawfin and you can free your wife.”
“No,” Adam replied. “I want Tabitha back more than anything in the world, but I will not help you free my brother. Corax is a monster, and the world is better off without him.”
“But think of the riches to be made!”
“How can you think of money, when his escape will bring war and bloodshed?”
Septimus frowned. “Aren’t you forgetting that I know where your wife’s rune is? You need my cooperation.”
“I wish we could agree,” said Adam. “But I wouldn’t set Corax free for anything—even for the release of my beloved wife.”
Septimus rose and paced the room, then glared at Adam. “Then we have nothing more to discuss.”
Gabriel quickly retreated up the stairs.
After the front door slammed, he crept down again. He found his father sitting with his head in his hands. “Is there anything wrong, Dad?” he asked, not wanting to admit that he had been eavesdropping.
“Everything is wrong. But there’s not much I can do about it.”
“But there is, Dad,” Gabriel replied. “I know where the runes are. They’re in Pleshette’s shop. I saw them.”
Realizing that Gabriel had heard the conversation, Mr. Finley looked intrigued, but almost immediately, his smile faded. “I have just pledged on a Flaming Truth Toddy not to help Septimus. If I was to go to Pleshette’s shop now, offering to help free Corax, I would burn up in a fireball.”
“I don’t get it,” said Gabriel. “Does a pledge last forever?”
“No, no, the elixir wears off in about two or three days.”
“But I don’t have to wait,” Gabriel declared. “I know where the runes are. What if I went and—”
“Absolutely not,” interrupted Mr. Finley. “I almost lost you just a day ago, Gabriel. Stay at home and be safe. That’s all I ask. Two or three days isn’t long to wait.”
Gabriel nodded, although it seemed like an eternity to him.
—
“How can I just do nothing?” Gabriel asked his friends. “I know Pleshette has my mom’s rune!”
They were on the stoop of the Finley house. Somes was copying a homework assignment from Abby’s notes, while Abby enviously watched Pamela feed peanuts to Vyka.
“We should just go back and steal the bag of runes,” said Pamela.
“Steal from Pleshette?” said Gabriel doubtfully.
“Technically,” added Abby, “we’d be stealing something that had already been stolen, from a man who sells stolen things. In fact, it’s almost a good deed, if you think about it.”
“Yeah, really,” Pamela said, and she offered the peanuts to Abby.
Nervously, Abby offered a peanut to Vyka. The raven was cautious but finally took it, then eagerly accepted more. Abby sighed with delight.
“Not so fast,” said Somes. “How would we even get inside? It’ll be years before he lets another kid in that store.”
Vyka and I could get the keys out of Pleshette’s pocket, Paladin said to Gabriel.
“Hey, Paladin has a good idea,” said Gabriel, and repeated the raven’s suggestion.
“So we all agree, right?” said Abby. “We’re going to steal the runes?”
They all turned to Gabriel, who looked at Paladin.
The bird uttered a rallying THROK!
“Fine,” said Gabriel. “Let’s do it!”
A bald man buttoned his crumpled raincoat, locked his shop, and began walking. Without his green visor, his head resembled a big pink egg floating down Union Street.
Moments before Pleshette reached the Union Street subway station, however, he was intercepted by a black bird that swooped down in front of him, flapping its wings.
“Shoo,” Pleshette snapped, waving his arms. “Shoo!”
Paladin mimicked his words. “Shoo! Shoo!”
“Another talking raven?” sneered Pleshette. “I’ve had enough of you! Shoo! Go away!”
He tried to drive the bird away, but Paladin hovered out of reach, and spoke again. “What do you call three toucans?”
“What? Three toucans? I have no idea!” said Pleshette.
“Answer a raven’s riddle and you’ll have a friend for life.”
“Ah, yes,” said Pleshette. He paused. “Fine. Let me see now. Three toucans…”
“A six-pack!�
�� cried the raven. “Get it? A six-pack is three two-cans.”
“Three two-cans? Oh, that’s idiotic!”
Paladin circled the man, taunting him with more riddles. Soon Pleshette was so distracted that he didn’t notice a second raven—one with unusual blue feathers—poking her head into his jacket pockets. After checking his left pocket, Vyka flew around to his right and, in a swift movement, withdrew a set of keys, then flew away.
—
Outside Pleshette’s shop, Vyka flew down and dropped the keys into Gabriel’s hand.
“Quickly!” said Abby.
Gabriel tested each key in the lock. The first two didn’t fit, but the third slipped in perfectly and turned. Quietly, the children opened the door.
It was dark inside. Somes stretched a band of packing tape across the lid of Punch’s urn. The occupants of the cages began to stir.
“You poor things!” whispered Pamela, looking up.
A chorus of cries, chirps, and squeals erupted.
“I’ll free the snakes,” said Somes.
“Wait, let me release the mice first,” said Abby, “or the snakes will just have a feast!”
“I’ll do the birds!” said Pamela.
They hauled clusters of cages down from the rafters. Somes unbolted the back door and the children began setting free every occupant—from crickets to mice, snakes, cockatoos, and parrots. Squeaks of relief erupted as the animals scampered, slithered, and flew away.
The biggest captive, a peacock-sized bird with iridescent gray feathers and strangely human eyes, regarded Pamela. “Felicitations for freeing us,” she said. “Beware. The monkey is not in the urn.” She raised her beak at the ceiling. “The monkey is not in the urn.”
“Not in the urn?” repeated Pamela.
Gabriel had just emerged from the back, looking frustrated. “I found the leather bag,” he said. “But there’s nothing in it.”
“Where could the runes be?” said Abby.
Just then, a shriek of laughter erupted from above and a hairy arm extended from a hammock swinging between the rafters. Delicate fingers produced a smooth gray rock. Punch’s wicked little face appeared beside it.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” sang the monkey. He tossed the rock into the air and caught it with his tail.
“It’s a rune!” said Somes.
“Stop! Please stop!” cried Gabriel. “Whatever you do, don’t let that fall!”
Punch giggled. “Stupid!” he hissed. “First you let all the animals out, and then you come to steal from me? Go home!”
The children were frozen in their footsteps, terrified of upsetting the monkey.
Punch idly tossed the rock in the air again, watching Gabriel’s horrified reaction.
“Don’t, Punch!” Gabriel shouted.
The monkey’s tail caught it at the last moment.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” whispered the monkey. “Nobody’s smarter than Punch. Not one of you.”
“You are a very clever monkey, that’s true,” said Gabriel in a soothing tone. “Smarter than Mr. Pleshette, I bet.”
The monkey smiled faintly.
“But…,” Gabriel continued, “I bet you’re not as smart as my friend Abby here.”
The monkey looked at Abby doubtfully. “The one with no hair?”
Insulted, Abby put a hand to her head. That morning she had braided her frizzy blond hair into four tight pigtails, bound at the ends with the little glowing lights she’d worn at her birthday party. “I have plenty of hair,” she replied. “And I bet I could answer any riddle you told me.”
The monkey stared doubtfully at Abby’s braids.
“No, really,” persisted Abby. “I bet you one of those rocks.”
“No way,” Punch replied. “Not that stupid.”
“How about if I lose, I give you a penny?” said Abby, digging into her pocket.
The monkey shook his head and grimaced, then pointed at Abby’s pigtail with its glowing light. “I want that!”
“Too valuable,” said Abby.
“Then no deal,” said Punch.
Abby paused, tugging on a braid. “Okay, monkey,” she said at last.
Pamela looked alarmed. “Abby, no.”
But Punch swung from his hammock to a shelf, retrieved an enormous pair of scissors, and placed them on the counter. Then he sprang back to the ceiling and dangled a rune over the hammock with one foot while he recited.
“Neither solid nor air,
I float throughout the atmosphere.
The nearer that you get to me,
The harder that I am to see.
What am I?”
All eyes turned to Abby, who stared uneasily at the enormous pair of scissors.
“Neither solid…nor air, floating through the atmosphere.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, well, that rules out a balloon or a zeppelin. The nearer you get to me, the harder to see. Oh, easy. It’s a cloud, or water vapor—which is not solid, and not exactly air, either.”
Looking annoyed, the monkey simply dropped the stone.
Abby lunged and caught it. “Got another one?” she said.
Punch took out another and turned it over in his slender little fingers.
“When the mountains crack like thunder
I escape my fiery source,
Swell across the fields and valleys.
If you touch me, I will scorch!”
“Another science riddle?” Abby sighed. “Science isn’t my best subject.”
The monkey seemed pleased to hear this. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he whispered as he stared at her braids (perhaps wondering which one he would snip first).
“It’s more like my second-best subject,” she added. “No, wait, I’d say it was probably about the same as my favorite subject…which is riddles!”
Scowling, Punch spat into his free hand and resculpted the tuft of hair over his forehead.
“Anyway,” Abby continued. “Mountains cracking open…sounds a bit like what happens when a volcano forms. What rolls down the slopes and valleys, and scorches? Molten lava scorches because it’s red-hot, so that’s my answer! Lava!”
A furious screech erupted from the hammock. Punch pelted the second rock at Abby. Somes caught it before it struck her.
“Okay, that’s two. One more to go,” whispered Gabriel.
Whimpering, Punch drew the third rock from the hammock, tossed it into the air, then caught it with his tail. Narrowing his eyes to a hostile squint, he recited the final riddle:
“This pair is in the briny sea,
In every meal (except for tea).
Safe to eat they’ll always be,
But not when taken separately.”
Abby shot a worried glance at the others. “I know what this is. But I don’t know the answer!”
“How can you know, but not know?” said Pamela.
“Because,” began Abby, “this pair is in the briny sea. Briny means salty, okay? Salt is in almost every meal except for teatime, because nobody puts salt in a dessert. Safe to eat they’ll always be. Well, salt is safe to eat, but the answer is a pair.”
“Salt and pepper?” said Gabriel.
“But that can’t be right,” said Pamela. “You can eat pepper or salt separately. The riddle says these two things are not safe to eat separately.”
The monkey spun the stone up and caught it in his mouth, spit it out, and caught it again with his tail.
Somes turned to Abby. “When I was in the hospital my dad’s doctor told him to cut down on sodium chloride—that’s salt, isn’t it?”
“Somes!” Abby threw her arms around him. “You’re a genius! Sodium and chlorine, that’s the answer. Separately, one explodes and the other is a poison, but together they make salt!”
“Abby, look out!” cried Gabriel.
The monkey had climbed down, seized the scissors, and sliced off the topmost braid on Abby’s scalp.
“You were supposed to answer it, not him, stupid!” cried the monkey, wavi
ng the braid over his head with treacherous glee. He unraveled the little glowing light from Abby’s braid, threw her pigtail to the floor, and fixed the light to his own tuft.
Abby touched the bare spot on her head, and her look of triumph melted into shock.
Meanwhile, Gabriel and Somes lunged at the monkey, but Punch flung the stone up in the air with his tail.
“I’ve got it!” cried Gabriel, leaping after it.
“I’ve got it!” said Somes, jumping higher.
The boys’ heads struck together while the rock spun in an elusive arc, falling past their fingers to the floor—where it shattered into pieces.
“No!” cried Gabriel.
“Well,” sighed Mr. Finley, “I’ve got good news and bad news.”
Gabriel, Abby, Pamela, and Somes stood in his study with worried faces. Mr. Finley had been scrutinizing each of the two remaining stones. Finally, he lowered his magnifying glass and dusted off his hands.
“I’m very impressed,” he said. “You solved the monkey’s riddles. If not for your amazing wits and bravery, I would be yelling at the four of you for being so foolish, careless, and oblivious to your own safety.”
“I’m sorry, Dad,” said Gabriel. “But when I heard what Septimus said to you this morning, I had to do something.”
“And going to Pleshette’s shop was my idea, Mr. Finley,” said Pamela. “You can blame me for that, and I’m sorry.”
“And I’m really sorry for suggesting we steal the runes,” added Abby as she probed the bare patch on her scalp where the monkey had cut off her pigtail.
Mr. Finley turned to Somes, the only one who hadn’t apologized.
“Well…sorry, but I’m not sorry,” Somes said. “We set all those creatures free. That was a good deed…and the monkey, well, Abby kicked his butt with each riddle. The only thing I’m sorry for is…if that rock had Gabriel’s mom inside.”
“Please, Mr. Finley?” said Abby. “Tell us she wasn’t in it.”
“No need to be sorry, Somes,” he said, raising an eyebrow at the boy. “I believe Septimus left Pleshette with a bagful of duds. Common rocks, probably.”
“But one of them was real—the dwarf who exploded—I saw that happen,” said Gabriel.
