“There are two men with the name Komar Romak?” asked Miss Brett.
“No,” said the feathered man.
“But you said . . .” Miss Brett could not understand what they had said. Nothing was making sense. In fact, everything made less and less sense with every word.
“There are always two,” said Lucy. “I remember in the farm house when Komar Romak disappeared the first time. They said that there were always two. But we only saw one.”
“Two, always. It has always been so,” said the feathered man. “For as long.”
“As long as what? Solemano? For 350 years?” said Noah, sarcasm in his words.
“Yes,” said Bo Peep, without any sarcasm. “No.”
“And not,” said the feathered man. “Only know this.”
“Only know what?” Noah had been joking. What on earth were they saying?
“From 350,” said Bo Peep. “Before is story.”
“The story goes back more than 350 years?” Wallace asked.
This time the men simply nodded. It was the first time the mysterious men in black had made sense, and they hadn’t actually said anything,
Wallace’s jaw dropped, and his mouth remained silently open. Lucy looked thoughtful, but Faye, Noah, and Jasper looked at one another with the same thought,
“That is insane,” Faye said, speaking their collective minds.
“There is always two,” Bo Peep said. “Forever, always two. Komar Romak,
“For all, all, all those years, there has always, always been the evil of Komar Romak,” Lucy explained, “and Komar Romak is a pair.”
Noah raised his eyebrows.
“Komar Romak isn’t a man. Komar Romak is two,” said Lucy looking intently at Noah,
“But that’s crazy,” said Noah. “Isn’t it?” He turned to Miss Brett.
“I don’t know,” she said. “If there is some force, some kind of . . . something, and that is where Komar Romak is from, I suppose there could be some continuous, some historical . . . something evil that has remained . . .” But what?
“Insane,” said Noah decisively. “Utterly insane.”
Somehow, though, Miss Brett felt some tiny grain of under-standing—an understanding that told her this was not merely someone bent on theft or assault. This was something much bigger and much older
“It wasn’t the aeroplane,” said Faye quietly, almost to herself.
“What?” Noah turned to Faye, who was staring ahead, as if seeing something for the first time.
With dawning comprehension, Faye looked at the others. She said, “It wasn’t the aeroplane. It never was the aeroplane. We were wrong. We only thought . . . he wanted our invention because we were so clever. But we were wrong. Remember? He never mentioned ‘flying machine’ or ‘aeroplane’ or ‘flying’ anything . . . or . . . or anything like that when he came to Sole Manner Farm.” Faye looked at Miss Brett. “He didn’t, did he, Miss Brett?”
“No, he didn’t,” Miss Brett said.
“But if not the aeroplane, then what?” asked Faye.
Bo Peep looked down.
Swallowing and finally getting a voice, Jasper said, “You mean this is real? Komar Romak is 350 years old?”
“No one is 350 years old,” said Wallace, recovering his senses. But he threw a furtive glance at Miss Brett, who shook her head reassuringly.
“Komar Romak so long,” said the feathered man.
“Longer,” Bo Peep said, nodding.
“Is . . .” Miss Brett felt like a fool to ask. “Is he human?”
“Not he,” Bo Peep said.
“Fine. Is Komar Romak human?”
The two men looked at one another. For Miss Brett, their exchange took far too long. “This . . . this is absolutely absurd! Are you asking us to believe that Komar Romak is some kind of a—”
“Yes,” both men said.
“Yes, he’s a devil? A monster? Not human?”
“Yes, but no.” Bo Peep looked at Miss Brett and nodded. Then the men exchanged looks. They clearly thought this made sense.
“Yes, but no what?” Miss Brett’s snow-white face now flushed red.
“Komar Romak, human, evil, devil,” said the feathered man, “but always human.”
Miss Brett took a deep breath. “But you are still telling us that . . . that he, sorry, Komar Romak can change?”
“Always Komar Romak and two,” said the feathered man forcefully.
“One and the other,” said Bo Peep.
“Is how it is,” the feathered man said.
There was silence for a moment. And then they heard a faint groan. It shook them all back to where they were and what they were doing here.
“Signora Fornaio!” Faye cried. She rushed to the other side of the counter and tore through the breads, broken jars of flour, and wrapping papers piled on the floor. Miss Brett hurried over to help.
Under the mess on the floor, they found Signora Fornaio. She was covered in flour and crumbs and broken glass. She seemed to try to move, but could not.
“She must have been attacked. Maybe someone hit her on the head.” Miss Brett felt the back of the baker’s head and found blood.
Bo Peep pushed through and knelt down beside the baker. He felt her wrist, then her forehead, then leaned over and picked up Signora Fornaio as if she were a rag doll. He brought her out to where the little table was. Faye grabbed a pile of aprons and napkins, which the feathered man laid out so she would have a soft place to rest.
There was blood coming from Signora Fornaio’s mouth and nose. Her lips were as white as her face. Miss Brett stifled a gasp when she saw blood all over the front of the baker’s frock and apron. The ravens were now squawking loudly on the other side of the door.
The baker groaned again. She was trying to speak,
“Don’t try to talk.” Miss Brett tried to keep her voice from shaking. “Just rest. We’ll . . .” But what they were going to do, she didn’t know.
“I am dying,” the baker said in barely a whisper. Her mouth moved again, but no sound came out.
“No!” cried Faye, tears falling from her eyes. “Please, Miss Brett, we have to help her!”
“Oh, please!” cried Lucy. “Miss Brett, help her. Mr. Bo Peep, please!”
Jasper held his sister. Noah put his hand on Jasper’s shoulder.
Wallace had begun to cry silently. He turned his lucky coin over and over in his pocket.
“I . . . I . . .” But Miss Brett could not speak. She was helpless, and did not know what she could do. She bit back tears, and screams, and terror.
“I must speak,” Signora Fornaio said in the near silence. “My son . . . he . . . you must return it . . . it must go back . . .”
“What? Return what?” Noah wiped the tears from his eyes.
“It does not belong to him,” she managed, then coughed as more blood spilled from her lips. She looked at Bo Peep, then at the feathered man. “They must . . . it belongs to you . . . gli inventori gilda, the Inventors Guild.” She looked hard into Bo Peep’s hidden face. She spoke softly in what must have been a mix of Italian and Maltese. Then she looked from Miss Brett to Bo Peep. “They must bring it down . . . down . . . to the room . . .posto speciale . . . special place . . . down . . . la camera . . . la stanza di un migliaio di lingue . . . thousand languages . . . under . . . now . . . palazzo in basso . . .”
Then she coughed again, and looked back at Bo Peep. She said something to him—something in a language the children and Miss Brett did not comprehend. Then, trying to focus her eyes, she looked at Faye. “So bella,” she said. “Astraea, bella.” Faye remembered that Miss Brett’s first name was Astraea.
“What happened?” said Jasper, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Can you tell us what happened here?”
“My fault . . . my son . . . I take him . . . he know . . . make . . . safe . . . it is safe . . .” She was mumbling. It was not clear whether she could hear anyone.
“Did you see who did this?�
�� Faye wanted answers. And she wanted revenge.
“You must take care . . . the shepherd . . . not . . .” She coughed. Miss Brett wanted her to save her strength, but she could see the life ebbing out of the kind and gentle woman. “You . . .” And her words got softer and softer. “It is them now . . . to take care . . . of . . . the . . . world.” The last word was almost silent.
Her eyes became unfocused, her mouth went slack, and she closed her eyes for the last time.
“No, it can’t be.” Faye couldn’t stop shaking. She could not believe what had just happened. She would never be able to remove the image of the dying baker from her mind.
Wallace had turned silent, his eyes full of tears. He vividly recalled his mother’s death. Now, he simply could not speak.
Noah continued to shake his head. It simply could not be. He wanted to shake the scene from his view. He wanted to stop it, to keep her here, to stop her from going. Tears stung in the corners of his eyes.
Miss Brett still held Signora Fornaio’s head in her lap, tears falling into the baker’s hair. She noticed there were specks of dough caught among the strands of hair. Miss Brett gently released them and adjusted the crumpled ribbon. Miss Brett felt the desperate need to restore some dignity to the baker who now lay helpless in death. Miss Brett, too, felt helpless. She had held Signora Fornaio as the baker took her final breath, and there had been nothing the teacher could do but watch her friend slip away.
They all remained there, silent save for the tiny whimpers coming from Lucy, who was burrowed into Jasper’s cloak, the cold from the open door filling the once warm, bountiful bakery. Never again would the kind Signora Fornaio bring them her smiles and gaiety, her baskets of treats and warm embraces. Life would never again be the same in Solemano.
Miss Brett pushed away a lock of hair that had blown across Signora Fornaio’s face. She looked down into the face of the kindest of women, one who could never turn from a stray without offering it kindness. Suddenly, Miss Brett looked up. No—Signora Fornaio could never turn away a stray.
“I don’t understand,” said Noah. “Was she telling us to take care of the shepherd?” Noah looked to Miss Brett for answers.
“No, she was not, Noah. She was warning us. She was warning us to take care and beware,” said Miss Brett. She stared as Bo Peep bent over and, gently, took Signora Fornaio into his arms and out of the bakery the feathered man behind him. They exchanged some words, and Bo Peep handed the baker to the feathered man. Then, like a sentinel, Bo Peep stood at the door of the bakery.
Lucy huddled with Jasper, but when Miss Brett stood up, she ran to her teacher, desperate for mothering arms. Jasper stood there alone for a moment, then looked over at Faye, who was still shaking with grief and fury. Jasper reached for Faye’s hand. She pulled away, not even looking at him. The image of the crumpled baker seared her eyes, burning rage into her heart.
Jasper stood alone in his grief. He hung his head. He felt defeated.
Miss Brett stood, using the shepherd’s staff to keep her steady. She clung to it, rubbing the top knot, as if it were the only solid thing in the world. Noah’s hand on his shoulder brought Jasper into focus. He looked at his friend, then noticed the staff in Miss Brett’s hands.
“The staff,” Jasper mumbled to himself, remembering what had caught his attention before. “It has a ‘KR’ carved in the top. He might have found it, but more likely it was his.”
“But that’s impossible!” Faye cried through her tears, shaking her head. “We all know that he was tall and—”
“There are always two,” said Lucy, wiping her eyes.
“It’s true,” Jasper said, “which means we can never guess what Komar Romak looks like.”
Miss Brett gasped. The children turned.
She had rubbed rather hard on the staff’s top knot, and somehow turned it. The knot clicked. It popped up, and she pulled.
Out came a strange knife, with odd markings. It was long and narrow.
It was a stiletto—a knife with a long, narrow blade. The blade was covered in blood.
It was then they all heard the screeching. Running out to the window at the front of the bakery, Noah looked up toward the manor house. A circle of ravens were screeching in the sky, flying round and round above the house.
“Something’s wrong,” said Noah.
There was no time to wonder why or anything else—whether the staff really belonged to the shepherd or if it had been used by Komar Romak against the little old man. The birds could mean only one thing—someone had entered the manor house grounds.
“We have to get up there!” Faye’s loud voice quaked.
“Go up there?” Miss Brett was hit by the idea of heading into danger.
“Now!” cried Jasper. “We have got to get up there now!”
“Signora Fornaio’s box!” said Faye. “We can’t let Komar Romak have it!”
“What can we do?” Noah gulped.
Jasper pulled the door open and Bo Peep turned to face him.
“We must get up to the house,” said Jasper. The ravens—”
“The ravens know!” Lucy said, pulling at Bo Peep. “They’re the keepers of wisdom!”
Bo Peep nodded, hiked up his skirt, and ran toward the house. Jasper ran after him. Faye followed. Wallace looked at Miss Brett,
“We have to get the box to safety.” Miss Brett pushed the staffs knot, and the knife fell back into the top.
“How? Where?” Wallace knew the answer as soon as he asked it.
“We have to take it down to that room in the under-castle, immediately!” Miss Brett took Lucy’s hand.
“And we have to make sure no one else is thinking the same,” said Noah, without a trace of humor in his voice,
Running up the road to the manor house, the children and Miss Brett were slower than Bo Peep, but not by much. They all fought against the snow and the cold. The circling ravens were still screeching. The two ravens from the baker’s place soared and swooped overhead, crying like mourners. The children and Miss Brett moved as swiftly as they could. The wind bit into their cheeks as they trudged, but they knew what they had to do.
“We’ll grab Antonio’s box and head back to the hidden Christmas room.” Miss Brett felt she sounded a bit like Lucy, but she really didn’t know where that secret place was or what to call it. It was some secret castle built into the mountain, but where the entrance was, or if there was another way in, she had no idea. She hoped they’d be able to find the way in and hoped the weather wouldn’t turn and make it impossible to get there.
“The entrance was missing when we last looked,” Faye told her teacher, who had raced to catch up.
“Well, we’ll just have to look harder.” Miss Brett knew her voice lacked warmth, but there was no way around it. They had to act fast.
“We’ll find it,” said Jasper with determination. “We have no choice.”
“But we don’t even know what that orb does,” Noah said.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jasper said, trying to keep his calm. “If Komar Romak thinks it’s important, then it must be important.”
Where was the entrance? thought Miss Brett. She only knew that it had been beneath the chapel. Maybe the castle had a chapel above it. Perhaps it had been built by Templar Knights or medieval renegades, escaping from something. She wondered if the children’s parents were there, or if they, like the children and herself, had simply been brought there for Christmas dinner. The parents said they were near, though, and they certainly had never been seen in the village.
Still, what she did know was that the children had to get themselves and the package back to that room. A fortified room was the only place where they could be sure it would be safe from the threat of Komar Romak, and it seemed to be what Signora Fornaio wanted. She had been clear—the room of a thousand languages. That was where they had to take the box, wherever that room might be.
As soon as they got to the manor house, they could see that the wall had been br
eached—someone had tried to enter. The front door was opened. Bo Peep stood, waiting for them.
“Not enter, for me,” insisted Bo Peep. The children waited in the doorway. Carefully and silently, Bo Peep entered the house. The children and Miss Brett stood silently, trying to listen. They could not hear anything but the cries of the ravens outside. There did not seem to be anyone inside.
“Did they leave?” whispered Wallace.
“Perhaps,” Miss Brett said. “Wait here.”
Lucy squeezed her teacher’s hand. “But Bo Peep said—”
“I’m only going there,” said Miss Brett, pulling her hand from Lucy as she gingerly walked toward the table just inside the entrance hall. Her heart was beating fast as she tried to keep her panic in check. The crumpled handkerchief was still there, but would the box be there, too?
“We need to stay quiet,” said Jasper, as Lucy whined. “In case someone is upstairs.”
Miss Brett stopped at the table. She pulled the handkerchief and, with great relief, found the box where she had left it,
“Hiding something in plain sight is sometimes the trickiest place to hide it,” Noah said.
“And if something is missing,” said Miss Brett, returning to the children, “it’s usually under something else.”
“Good thing our invader didn’t know that,” said Noah.
They could hear doors being opened and slammed,
Finally, Bo Peep returned. “I have searched. Still fear.”
“Well, we need to collect some things,” insisted Miss Brett.
“Two.” Bo Peep pulled a pocket watch from his apron. Two minutes.
“Now we must hurry, children,” Miss Brett said as they and Bo Peep ran toward the stairs, Lucy whining and whimpering at Miss Brett’s skirt. Miss Brett brought Lucy to the fire, which was low but still warm. Lucy, she could see, was terrified.
Faye came over. “I’ll sit with her,” she said. “You collect anything we can use to help get into the castle. And anything we can use to defend ourselves.”
Miss Brett nodded. “Give me the first minute.”
“I’ll take the second,” said Faye, nodding back.
The Ravens of Solemano or The Order of the Mysterious Men in Black Page 31
