The Mystic Travelogues

by J. C. Nusbaum

The crowd of Nomes began to push the children along the caverns until they reached the end of a long corridor. They stopped for a moment, and Tug could see nowhere else to go. While they waited, a few of the Nomes formed a column by standing on each other’s shoulders. A portly Nome climbed up last, causing the pillar to sway as the he stepped on the fingers and faces of other Nomes on his way up. Once the fat Nome reached the top, he opened a pouch hanging at his waist and pulled out the largest emerald Tug had ever seen. As the column of Nomes continued to quiver below, the top Nome reached up and placed the emerald on the tip of a tall stalactite.

  At once, the cavern around them shook as if they were experiencing an earthquake, and then the wall before them began to rise like a giant stone curtain. For a moment, Tug could not see what was on the other side for the brilliant flood of light, but as his eyes adjusted he was overwhelmed by a great fortress carved into the stone all around them. Towers and turrets jutted out of the stone walls hundreds of feet above their head, so high he could not see where they ended. Slitted windows were cut into the stone structure, but a glare made it difficult to see anything inside. The fortress was bejeweled in every kind of gemstone, and they cast off their own light in a flood of brilliant colors. A row of stalagmites and stalactites laced together across the entrance, like teeth in a menacing mouth on the face of the imposing castle. As the Nomes approached the entrance, the sharp points receded into the floor and ceiling to allow entry, threatening to snap shut and devour any unwelcome visitors.

  Leopold walked between Tug and Jodie, and gave a low growl as they all entered the capacious interiors of the fortress. The children each took one of Leopold’s paws, and the three continued on, surrounded by Nomes, until they reached a regal chamber paneled in gold and mirrors. In the center was a raised throne carved out of stone and covered in rubies of every shape and size. Dwarfed by the giant chair was a fat old Nome wearing a red suit with coattails and a battered and bent gold crown. Tug realized this must be King Renatus. He sat reclined across the seat with one spindly leg thrown over the arm of the throne. His face had an expression that Tug recognized as either anger or boredom. Possibly both.

  The Nomes made a clearing and nudged the children in front of the throne, whereupon the old king looked down upon them with distaste.

  “Do I know you?” he asked.

  Leopold cocked his head, like he was actually considering the question, but Tug answered, “No. We’re here looking for our uncle. We think he may be lost.”

  “And you are not lost?” The king asked, sarcastically.

  Jodie tried a different approach, “Please, Your Majesty, we are very lost, and we are afraid our uncle is in the same predicament. If you know where he is, could you show us all the way out and we’ll promise to never bother you again?”

  “We have many uncles here. I would not know which one you lost.”

  Tug and Jodie exchanged looks. “His name is Oscar,” Tug said.

  “Oscar?” The king sat up in his chair and looked interested for the first time. “I think I recently met an Oscar, I’m so terrible with names. But he is a wizard, not an uncle.”

  “He is our uncle,” Tug explained.

  King Renatus stroked his pointy beard and smiled at the children. “Yes, I believe your uncle has recently paid a visit to my Kingdom. He may still be here, would you like me to find out for you?”

  Jodie grabbed onto Tug’s hand and squeezed it. “Yes, please, Your Highness,” she answered, though Tug couldn’t bring himself to offer the same respect to the old Nome.

  The King clapped his hands together twice, and his chamberlain came forward holding a ream of paper.

  “We Nomes have such short memories, please be so kind as to write your names down so we don’t forget them, and we will inquire of this wizard uncle and determine if he does indeed belong to you.”

  Leopold let out a suspicious growl, but the children each took a graphite stone offered by one of the Nomes. Tug and Jodie wrote their names on slips of paper before handing them back.

  No sooner had they given their names, than the Nome King let out a delighted cackle. Two more Nomes stepped forward, each carrying a glass jar with the lid off. The papers were placed inside, and the lids screwed tightly on, sealing the names inside.

  The Nomes snickered, some of them pointing at the children. The King laughed louder and more wretchedly than the rest. Tug felt his stomach tumble into his boots as he wondered what he and Jodie had just done. Uncle Oscar had cautioned them about Nome trickery, but Tug failed to remember his uncle’s warning in time.

  “What extraordinarily stupid and fortunate children you are,” King Renatus said. “You do not comprehend the gift you have been given: Nome immortality.” Jodie looked over at Tug, who looked equally confused by the Nomes’ actions.

  “From this day forward, you shall never age another day,” the King explained. “Of course, you will have to remain in the Nome Kingdom forever. But, then again, why would you ever want to leave?”

  “What happens if we leave?” Tug asked.

  “Besides breaking the enchantment and resuming that nasty business of aging, you will forget everything associated with the name you wrote down.”

  Jodie squinted at the old King, “But we wrote down our own names.”

  This brought more laughter from the Nomes.

  “Then you shall forget everything about yourself,” the Nome King explained. “Who you are, where you came from, what you most like to eat for breakfast. Even those who were once close to you.”

  Jodie gasped at the suggestion of forgetting everyone and everything in her life. But for a flash of an instant, Tug could imagine what a relief it might be to forget the family he had lost, even though he immediately felt guilty for thinking it. Besides, the only people he now cared to remember were here with him in the Nome Kingdom, and he could not imagine leaving without them.

  “How can you do that?” Tug asked, suspecting that it was a lie to keep them from leaving.

  “Simple,” King Renatus responded, “we have stolen your names. They are already preserved and soon will be locked away. You are free to leave anytime you wish, but we will keep your names locked-up in the Nome Kingdom. It is our way of making sure you don’t tell anyone else about what you’ve found here.

  “Now, let me see,” the Nome King continued, and began to twirl the hairs of an exceedingly long eyebrow between his fingers. “Besides your names, I believe you have something else that belongs to us.”

  The army of Nomes advanced on the children. Tug felt boney fingers pulling at his clothes and reaching into his pockets. Jodie picked up Leopold, while Tug tried to keep a tight hold on the knapsack. But it was soon ripped out of his grasp.

  Candles and tin cans were strewn out over the crowd as Nomes clawed at the knapsack and threw out its contents. At last, a triumphant squeal echoed through the chamber as a spindly arm rose above the pack of Nomes, clutching the spoon.

  “AT LAST,” King Renatus said. “I have suffered so long.”

  The spoon was passed overhead from Nome to Nome until it reached the King. In another instant, a Nome standing next to the King’s throne stepped forward carrying a flagon of liquid. The servant was dressed in robes as opulent as the King’s, and Tug guessed he must be a chamberlain. King Renatus held the spoon out as his servant poured the liquid into it. The King then lifted it to his mouth as if administering medicine. After he tilted his head back and swallowed the contents, he greedily licked the spoon.

  Mid-lick, the King froze, his grey tongue pressed into the recess of the spoon. He held it there while his eyes darted around the room. At first he seemed bewildered, but slowly a look of recognition entered his eyes.

  He lowered the spoon, and continued to smack his lips, lips that were now stretched into a fiendish grin. His eyes landed on his chamberlain, now cowering in the corner as if the old King might swat at him, even though he was sitting several feet away.

  “Kaliko,” the Nome King sn
arled at his chamberlain, “you forget your place. Where are my stately effects? This is not my belt. And where are my rings? What have you done with them?”

  “Sir, they are long absent from the Nome Kingdom,” Kaliko responded.

  “Yes,” the Nome King said slowly, as if recalling events long forgotten.

  Kaliko interrupted the King’s recollections with a timid voice, “Your worshipfulness, we have intruders. We have already stolen their names.”

  “You sniveling imbecile. I’ve just regained my memory, not lost what little I had.” But as the King turned his attention to the children, his eyes landed on the bear. The old Nome scrunched his eyebrows as if he was taking notice of him for the first time.

  “Auberon Leopold!” he exclaimed. “You dare return to my Kingdom?”

  Leopold growled back at the Nome, but Jodie continued to hold onto the bear.

  “Bring him to me,” King Renatus commanded.

  It took several Nomes to pry Leopold away from Jodie, and a dozen more to hold Tug back. Tug pushed against a sea of Nomes, writhing and calling out to Leopold. But he was far outnumbered. Four Nomes carried the stuffed bear to the King, each holding firmly to one of the bear’s paws as Leopold wriggled to be free. With great effort, the Nome King picked up a great emerald vase that sat beside his throne and set it down before the bear.

  “Stuff the toy in here,” the King said, as casually as if Leopold were a bouquet of daisies. “Seal the top. We can keep him preserved with the rest of the names where he can’t cause any more trouble.”

  “Stop!” Tug cried out, but the Nomes took no notice of him. “He didn’t do anything!”

  The King glowered at Tug for a moment, and then fixed his gaze back on the bear. The King’s eyes seemed to sparkle amidst the distress he was causing.

  Jodie looked away, but Tug watched in anguish. His beloved companion was pushed through the opening of the vase and then sealed inside by a massive cork that was pounded into the top by a Nome with a sledgehammer. Tug could see the bear’s form through the green glass. Leopold pushed against the confines of the vase, and then let out muffled howls as two Nomes picked up the vase and carried it away.

  A pack of Nomes continued to restrain the children. Jodie was in tears, but Tug’s anger swarmed like a nest of hornets inside his chest, and this kept his tears from escaping.

  “Where’s our uncle?” he demanded.

  “That’s right. Uncle Oscar,” the Nome King recalled. “I am afraid your uncle has behaved as badly as your little bear friend and we cannot permit you to see him again. Ever.”

  Jodie began to cry again, and Tug continued to struggle. The Nomes would not let go, and eventually Tug gave in to defeat.

  “What will you do with us?” he asked.

  “Do not worry,” the King said in a softer voice. “If you can behave yourselves, you will be granted favor to become subjects in my Kingdom. You may not believe it, but you will be quite contented amongst us Nomes. In time you will become one of us. Mine is a Kingdom in which no one is left out.”

  And before either Tug or Jodie could respond, a flood of Nomes pushed them out of the King’s throne room, down one of the passages, and locked them in a small chamber. It had none of the opulent decoration of the King’s quarters, and was furnished with only a stone bench and table. There were no windows or doors, other than the door through which they entered.

  Tug was glad when the Nomes left, slamming the stone door shut, though he did not trust that they were truly alone. He imagined many pairs of Nome eyes and ears spying on them.

  Tug said, “For being free to do as we please, this sure looks like a jail cell to me.” He said it loud enough so that anyone listening might know his anger and frustration.

  “Do you think they meant it?” Jodie asked, “What they said about losing our memories and never seeing Uncle Oscar or Leopold again?”

  Tug could hear a quiver in her voice and realized she was struggling to keep herself from crying again. “I’m not sure what to believe,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “We may have no choice but to go along with what the Nomes tell us.”

  The door swung open again and standing on the other side was the young Nome Feldspar, holding a silver tray with plates of steaming-hot food. Tug was repulsed by the small Nome when they first encountered him, but now Feldspar seemed almost pleasant compared to the rest.

  “Bet you’re hungry. I’m hungry,” the Nome said. And then he whispered, “Thank you for not telling.”

  He set the tray down. Looking more closely at the food, Tug could see it was a variety of mushrooms of many different shapes, colors, and sizes.

  Jodie made a face.

  “Is there anything else to eat?” Tug asked, meekly.

  “But I bring you a little of everything,” Feldspar replied. “Shizlets, dantwiee, melk fods. Here are spicy pengos with zeppgnoot.”

  “But it’s all mushrooms,” Jodie said.

  “What else would you eat? Ore and limestone?” the Nome asked, and laughed at the silliness of Jodie’s objection.

  Tug picked up a mushroom cap with pink spots and cautiously took a small bite of it. He was delighted to find it had a pleasant taste, almost like sausage.

  “It’s good,” he said to Jodie, who was holding up a purple mushroom and sniffing it cautiously. She took a bite and smiled, “It tastes like frosting!”

  Soon both children were eating hurriedly. There were more than a dozen different kinds of mushrooms, each with a distinct taste impossible to guess by their appearances.

  “I didn’t know there were this many kinds of mushrooms,” Jodie said, “and so many flavors.”

  “Hundreds you can eat,” Feldspar explained. “And thousands you cannot.”

  Feldspar looked on enviously as the children continued to eat. Jodie stopped at one point and offered him a plate of some orange and brown variety, and Feldspar accepted with alacrity.

  When they had their fill of the fungi, Tug asked Feldspar, “What will happen to us?”

  “His Majesty regained his sanity, now he will find a proper place for you. You do your part, someday become an equal among Nomes.”

  “That sounds absolutely horrible!” Jodie said, not stopping to consider Feldspar’s feelings.

  Tug tried to smile at the young Nome. “It is very nice that you would think of us as equals,” he said. “I’m glad we are able to help each other out.”

  Jodie nodded at Tug’s attempt to form an alliance with Feldspar. “Yes, and I’m glad we can all be friends.” And soon as she said that, Tug sensed she meant it.

  The Nome smiled and lowered his head in embarrassment. “You have many friends in the Nome Kingdom,” he said to Jodie. “Until you, we had no Mamelon in our Kingdom.”

  “That’s what they called me before,” she said. “What does it mean?”

  “Do not know what you are?” Feldspar began to giggle and let out little snorts. “It is what we are not.”

  “There are a lot of things that you are not,” Tug said.

  Feldspar thought a moment how to explain, “It is what makes her not us. One who can tell us things we most want to hear. Make mushrooms taste better than they ought. It is what she possesses. Beauty more than gemstones. Comfort that makes cold caverns warm.”

  Tug thought how he once had this comfort in his own life, but it had been missing for a long time. “A mother?” he guessed.

  “Yes, if we had mothers. Yes!”

  “I’m too young to be a mother,” Jodie protested.

  “Bigger than any Nome in the Kingdom. But do not worry, it is not work in the mines.”

  Tug looked at Jodie and raised his eyebrows.

  “Right now they make you new homes. The Mamelon will have her own grotto, with a council of attendants.”

  “What about Tug?” Jodie asked.

  “It is decided he will join us in the mines. Work as a feather hunter. It is dangerous for Nomes but not for humans.”

  “Hunt
ing feathers?” Tug asked in disbelief. “Why would there be birds underground?”

  “There should not, but a bird in the Nome Kingdom would mean dread. We must keep watch for any trace.”

  Tug shrugged his shoulders, thinking it no more strange to hunt feathers than having your name stolen and preserved in a jar, or eating mushrooms that taste like candy, or any of the other Nome customs they had encountered.

  “Feldspar,” Jodie said his name in a soft and quiet voice. “Our bear Leopold and our Uncle Oscar, they are very dear to us. Is there any way we might help them?”

  The little Nome looked at the ground and fidgeted with his coat sleeves. “The King is very angry with them. But please do not worry, your uncle does not suffer. Fed him sleeping mushrooms so he does not torment the King. He will sleep until King Renatus decides what to do. Always slow to make up his mind.”

  “But Leopold isn’t sleeping,” Tug protested, “He’s just trapped in that vase. What harm could he cause if he we let him out?”

  But Feldspar shook his head, “That bear nearly destroyed us all. Should not have returned to the Nome Kingdom.”

  UNLIKE Uncle Oscar and Leopold’s treatment, the Nomes bestowed both children with adoration and luxury. In short order, they were brought to their own quarters and Tug was outfitted in a velvet tunic of Nomish styling. He hesitated to try it on at first, but soon found that it did cushion him from the cold stone that comprised nearly everything in the underground kingdom. When Feldspar guided him through the caverns to show him how to hunt for feathers, Tug learned that the job was an easy one, particularly so because Tug was never expected to find any. The only difficulty was watching for signs of falling rocks in the mines, which Feldspar explained happened with more frequency all the time.

  The children were free to move about the Nome Kingdom, and Tug continuously searched for clues as to the whereabouts of Leopold and his uncle. Often he would ask indirect questions of Feldspar and some of the other Nomes in hopes that they would reveal some insight as to how each might be rescued from their imprisoned states. But Tug soon learned the difficulty in tricking a Nome into divulging his secrets— Feldspar seemed the most candid with Tug, but even he was wary of the boy’s questions.