“I know what she needs for Christmas,” said Noah, slyly.
“Oh, please tell,” whispered Lucy.
Noah grinned, tapping the side of his forehead.
“Noah is trying to knock something out of his tiny mind, Lucy,” said Faye, braiding her hair as she stood by the fire. “Things often get stuck in there.”
“All right, young inventors, I say breakfast before snowmen,” Miss Brett said, coming back into the room.
“Did it burn?” asked Wallace, slipping his coin back into his pocket.
“No, I managed to get to the fire before all the water boiled away,” Miss Brett said, coming in with a tray of tea things. She set the tray on the table by the wide sitting room window so they could look out at the snow while indulging in the sticky cinnamon buns and almond biscotti.
“Look, the sun is making everything sparkle,” said Lucy, pointing at the tiny crystals of snow, dazzling in the sky
Faye stopped mid-step, her eyes reflecting the dancing light. Jasper led her by her elbow to the table and, to keep her from falling, moved a chair to catch her as she sat without taking her eyes off the snow.
Wallace let the others sit down before him. He took Miss Brett by the sleeve.
“Um, Miss Brett,” he said in his quiet voice. Something was wrong.
“Yes, sweet angel, what is it?”
“I . . . I’m not very good in the snow,” he said. “I get cold, and my glasses get foggy, and . . . I . . .”
“Well, you’re from New York,” Miss Brett said. “You’re one of our snow experts.”
Wallace fidgeted with his glasses. “Yes, I certainly have been around it. I’m sure my father would be happier if I was better around it. It’s just that I get cold, and—”
“You’ll be fine.” Miss Brett smiled, patting him on the back gently. “We will make sure you have extra woolens and the warmest socks. And you’ll come right in the minute you want. It’s not something to worry about. It’s quite lovely, and fresh air will be good for you. Just see how you feel once you’re outside.”
Wallace nodded and, quietly, sat at the table with the others.
While Noah stuffed his face, Faye sat there, stirring her tea, staring out the window. Jasper finally took the spoon from her and put her hand on the cup. Faye took a sip, never removing her eyes from the view.
Jasper looked at her and smiled. It was so lovely to see the Faye she kept hidden under all her prickly layers. Jasper didn’t want to say anything that might cause a retreat. She was, at that moment, finally escaping the ominous and ever-present darkness that followed them. He turned away, in case she discovered him staring.
“I do believe we have found something to silence Lady Faye,” said Noah.
And the moment was lost. Jasper had to admit that, sometimes, Faye was right—Noah could be a complete fool,
“Leave her be, Noah,” Jasper said softly.
“Are you coming to her defense? Are you her knight in shining armor? Is that what you wish yourself to be?” Noah didn’t mean this to be cruel, but it stung Faye out of her trance, and it stung Jasper, too, because it was true,
“I don’t need a knight in shining armor, Noah,” Faye hissed. “I don’t need you or Jasper.” Faye turned back to the snow, but the moment was truly gone. She knew, too, that she had said something she did not mean. She turned to Jasper to say she was sorry, but he had gone. She turned back to scold Noah, but he, too, had gone,
“He doesn’t mean it,” Miss Brett said, her hand on Faye’s shoulder. “It’s just his way.”
Faye forced herself to nod in acceptance. “Just his way”? She thought about that as she went to fetch her warm clothes. Who did Miss Brett mean? Could it be Noah, annoying and pestering as a way to cope with whatever made him sad or nervous? Or Jasper? Could she have meant Jasper’s way, reaching out to her because he cared? Faye didn’t want to ask, so she decided to pick between them. She silently made a choice and somehow felt flushed when she did,
Dressed in their warmest clothes—Wallace was wearing double layers—the children spent the morning romping around. They built snowmen, snow angels, and snow ravens. Jasper and Noah threw snowballs at one another. Wallace managed to hide behind a large drift and avoid the entire snowball duel.
Faye was blissfully happy at this incredible new experience. Snow was amazing. She touched it and rolled in it. She followed Lucy’s lead, sticking out her tongue and catching flakes. She completely ignored the ruckus the boys were making.
It was the snowball Noah threw at Faye that brought Faye out of her serenity
“You blasted idiot! You did that on purpose, hitting me in the face.” Faye, snow down her back and inside her coat, was wet, cold, disheveled, and quite furious when they came in for lunch.
“Of course I did,” said Noah, shaking off the piles of snow that had fallen down his own collar. “I thought you liked the snow. I wanted to help you get better acquainted with it. Hey!” Noah leaned back, nearly falling off his seat as Faye stood up, shooting daggers with her eyes. “See, that’s the problem, Faye. You don’t know how to make nice.”
Faye was turning scarlet. She knew she should let it go, that Noah was being silly, and that, like earlier, it was just his way, but that last comment had hit her where it hurt most. She was not very good at being a friend, and she hated being bad at anything.
“You ruin everything!” she cried at Noah. In a rage, she pulled her arm back, but Miss Brett caught it before it made contact with Noah’s face. But it was as if the slap really had hit him. His face fell when he saw the expression on Faye’s. While he was able to hitch his smile back on, inside he felt bad. He hadn’t meant any real harm. Faye, on the other hand, had.
“All right, you two,” Miss Brett said. She had put down the tea tray and, holding Faye’s arm, gave them both a warning look. “No more of this nonsense. Noah, learn how to tame your tongue. Faye, you know that Noah has a problem teaching his tongue to stop wagging. Both of you, be aware of yourselves. You are not alone.”
Faye gulped. “Yes, Miss Brett.”
“Well,” Noah said, arms akimbo, “I do need to housebreak that part of me.”
“Too true,” said Jasper with a friendly pat on Noah’s back and a nod to Faye,
“Very good,” said Miss Brett as she served hot, thick soup and fresh bread. They had bowls of olive oil, sprinkled with coarse salt, to dip the bread in, as well as fresh butter and tapenade. “And honestly, I think it’s pretty funny that five brilliant young inventors are throwing snowballs. I am sure, Faye, that you could invent something to throw them far more effectively.”
“Far more effectively than Noah, certainly,” Faye said, glowering.
“I meant more effectively than having a war like this,” said Miss Brett.
“Oh, we shall have a war,” Faye said.
“Oh, yes, let’s do it!” cried Lucy, throwing a bit of bread into the air. Noah caught it in his mouth and nodded emphatically.
Miss Brett was glad to keep the children inside for the rest of the day. While tempers were heating up, the temperature outside was dropping, Wallace was suddenly much more interested in snowballs than he had been earlier. The afternoon and evening, up to dinnertime, was spent deep in invention, Faye and Lucy on one side and the boys on the other. After Noah casually sauntered over to ask for a spanner, and Faye threatened to hit him with one, the girls took a panel screen used for arc-welding and raised it as a room divider. These were enemies at war, with secret weapons in the making.
“It’s got to be able to throw some whoppers,” Noah said quietly, as he and Wallace pored over sketches. The three boys had devised a rotating arm, using one of the giant soup ladles from the kitchens. Using a second gear that Jasper rigged, Noah was able to pull back the arm and wind a rubber band tight enough to throw a snowball with extreme force.
Faye had used the remaining soup ladles for their device. She had five, attached with wire to a central gear.
“But whe
re do we get all the snowballs?” asked Lucy.
“That’s it!” Faye jumped up and kissed Lucy on the head. “If we add a trowel or some other sort of small shovel in-between the ladles, we can make snowballs that continually drop into the flinging arms, and we won’t have to worry about making enough! It will make its own supply.”
And so they worked, after supper and well into the night, until Miss Brett demanded that they head off to bed.
After breakfast, carrying their weapons well-concealed under old blankets they found in the pantry, the children set out onto the terrace and down to the gardens,
Noah and Jasper headed for the mound on the south side of the garden,
“Come along, Wallace!” Noah called. Wallace was coming down behind the girls,
They had agreed that they would use the lower terrace to avoid breaking a window if an errant snowball was blown off-course. It was not the easiest walk down. The girls took the north side and found the biggest bank of snow,
But before they could begin, on the road, Faye spotted the little shepherd using his crook to help him along the snowy path that the horses had carved into the road. Three ravens circled overhead. At that moment, they looked like vultures to Faye. They were horrid, bothering him like that, crying and cackling. Faye called out to greet him, and the man raised a shaky crook.
“The poor little man,” Lucy said, her voice muffled, since she’d slid her chin under her muffler to keep it warmer.
“Sir!” Faye called. The shepherd turned and waved again. “Wait!” Faye rolled up the blanket that covered the girls’ snowball machine. Getting as close as she could to the snow-covered wall, she tossed the blanket over to him. He reached up, the birds scattered, and the blanket hit the little man square in the face and knocked him onto his rear end. Faye was startled and stood frozen, but the little man quickly laughed, brushed himself off, and, with no small effort, managed to get himself to his feet.
“Grazie!” he called, and bent to pick up the blanket. The birds swooped and cackled again.
As Faye stood distracted, Noah made a snowball and hurled it at her. But Faye, oblivious, bent down to pick up her machine, and the snowball sailed over her head and into Wallace’s face as he moved slowly down the path behind Faye. He fell down on his bottom, startled.
The shepherd burst into laughter, clapping his hands. Then, still laughing, he bent over and, with two cloth-covered hands, formed a snowball. In the spirit of the moment, he threw it, but his frail, shaky arm did not offer a good launch, and the snowball simply rolled off his fingers and landed on his foot. He laughed all the harder.
He blew kisses at the children and, still giggling to himself, wrapped the blanket Faye gave him around his shoulders and tottered down the hill toward the village.
But Faye looked not at the shepherd, but over at Noah, who was busy setting up their machine. No, this would not do. “He’s going to have to sweat a little,” Faye muttered to herself. “Even in the snow, I’ll get him to sweat.”
Then, Faye said to Lucy, “No, this isn’t the right spot,” loud enough for the boys to hear. Wallace had finally made it over to Jasper and Noah, and all three boys watched as Faye picked up the machine and trudged to the east side by the steps, Lucy waddling behind her. The boys had no choice, since they were now aiming at nothing and were completely vulnerable to Faye’s attack. Grumbling, they pulled up their machine and moved over to the west side.
“Not enough room,” Faye said, pretending to be quite serious. The girls moved again, and the boys followed suit.
After three more changes of position, Noah fell to his knees, and Wallace decided he might be dressed too warmly. He considered just sitting down until Faye had settled on a single spot.
“Come on, Lady Faye,” grumbled Noah. “Just pick your position and get on with it.”
“It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind,” said Faye in a sing-song voice. She was happy to be wearing Noah down. More important, she finally had the chance to annoy him.
At last, when the ache in her arms was greater than the pleasure she got from taunting Noah, Faye settled behind the very first mound—always her intention—and winked at Lucy. They dug a space where the machine could sit, but still rotate easily and pick up the snow as it turned.
“Comrades,” Noah said to the boys, “it is clear that negotiations have failed. It is time for war.”
And so the battle began.
WHAM! Faye had ducked just in time. There was no question that the boys’ invention could throw harder and farther. WHUMP! Faye was knocked clear off her feet by one that caught her in the shoulder
But the machine Faye and Lucy built was relentless. For every one super-snowball coming from the boys’ machine, the girls’ invention could throw ten regular ones, which it did until the boys were nearly buried in snow. With a RATT-A-TATT, Wallace was walloped and fell on his behind.
The boys were running out of soft snow within reach. “Man the machine, Wallace!” cried Noah. “I’ll get more snow.”
“Me?” Wallace, fallen, was sitting right behind the machine.
“Just imagine their machine is Komar Romak’s head,” whispered Noah.
KAHBLAM! Noah, too, was knocked over. Jasper, meanwhile, had an armload of snow he delivered to Wallace before he was pelted from behind. Even through the mufflers covering his ears, he could hear the cheers of his sister. It stung more than the snow down his neck.
With a crash, a shot from the girls broke off the lever that launched the boys’ catapult.
“We did it!” cried Lucy.
Faye was jumping up and down,
Wallace smiled, now determined to go down fighting. He pulled the rubber band that was now hooked around one of the ladles and launched a snowball by hand. The result was a stray snowball that landed a few feet from Noah. It didn’t matter. Quickly, he refilled the ladle, and then again.
“Get ’em, Wallace!” cried Noah, rolling in the snow and laughing.
“Hooray for Wallace!” Jasper cheered, laughing too.
Wallace adjusted his foggy glasses, took aim, and fired again and again. He only stopped when, with one last load, a missile hit the girls’ speed machine and knocked it over.
Lucy continued to jump up and down—or, rather, she waved her arms up and down, since she was unable to move much at all. “We won!” she cried. “We won! We beat those silly boys!”
“Lucy!” cried Jasper in mock indignation, though it did bite to hear his sister include him among the “silly boys.”
“Oh, not you, Jasper,” she said.
“Me?” Wallace asked.
“Not you, Wallace, either.” Lucy felt sorry she had said it.
“Oh, so you mean me?” Noah demanded, making a ridiculous salute in which he pretended to poke himself in the eye.
“Yes, oh, yes, Noah, you are the silliest of boys,” said Lucy.
“I believe we won,” declared Noah, now so covered in snow he had something of a white beard.
“Never!” said Faye. “You were all down by the time you knocked us over!”
“But we did knock you over,” said Noah, slipping and falling.
Even Faye laughed, knowing the girls had beaten him, no matter what the boys said. Even so, Faye suddenly felt a certain warmth toward Noah, especially when he got up and immediately fell back into a snow bank.
Jasper reached out a hand to help his comrade back to his feet. Noah teetered and looked as if someone had put his legs on backwards. He walked up to Faye and made a sad face, then raised his eyebrows.
“You are the silliest boy, Noah,” Faye said, with nothing but laughter in her voice.
“Truce?” he offered.
Faye smiled. “Truce.” And then he tried to lick her nose.
Faye’s hand went out. “Don’t push it,” she warned with a growl. Noah, his tongue shooting back between his frozen lips, winked. He then crossed his eyes and fell back into the snow. Faye laughed again.
With that
, Noah rolled over and stood up, groaning.
“Well, I can just be thankful that your snowball machine doesn’t shoot anything but snowballs,” he said, slipping as he barely managed to stand. Faye considered what Noah said. It shot snowballs, but that was not the only thing it could shoot.
Noah lumbered over to Lucy and picked up the little girl, who squealed with delight. “Me hungry,” he grumbled like a hungry giant. Then, upon reflection, he realized he was hungry, and he carried her all the way to the house, grunting and groaning and saying things like “bones of an English maid” and “delicious fingers and toes” and “very nice on toast.” Wallace and Faye followed close behind.
Jasper looked out at the beast garden. With the leaves all gone, winter gave the impression of having cleared away some of the bramble, he thought. Maybe this was the time to see if the magician’s story was true. They would have to be careful and cunning, but it would be fun to try. Unless the mysterious men in black were hiding something else, what trouble could there possibly be?
Jasper had been thinking about it all night. How could they figure out the beast garden’s “blind spot,” as he thought of it? The others, too, seemed interested in the idea. After a late breakfast the next morning, the children went about hunting down all the string and twine they could find in the house.
“What are you children up to?” Miss Brett asked.
“Just an experiment,” said Jasper for it was, after all.
“What kind of experiment, Jasper?” asked Miss Brett.
“No hydrochloric acid, Miss Brett,” he said. “It’s more of a geometry project.”
“And perhaps an experiment in physics,” said Wallace.
“Very well, sweet angels,” she said. “Be wise, though, won’t you?”
Yes, they’d be wise. But they hadn’t yet been wise enough to figure out what was going on around them. It was exhausting to live every day in the depths of a mystery they did not even begin to understand. The mystery of the beast garden was another story. That, at the very least, had a specific question: How can one find the place in the garden where none of the eyes of the beasts are upon you?
The Ravens of Solemano or The Order of the Mysterious Men in Black Page 20
