“I remember what she was like,” Tug said, sleepily.
“That’s very good. You needed to remember.”
Tug looked over and saw that the fire had nearly died out, and then he realized Leopold was tucked under his arm and probably stopped tending the fire so as not to disturb him. Tug stared at the smoldering embers for a long while and let broken thoughts about the parents he barely remembered come back to him. They were not new thoughts, only ones that Tug failed to acknowledge until now.
“Nan, my mom and my dad— I’m not going back there. They don’t need me. But this girl, she’s counting on me right now. I still don’t know what I can do, but I know I have to try and help her.”
Nan did not respond, but nodded several times, as if she understood something that Tug did not. She helped Tug to his feet and wrapped his fate blanket around his shoulders. On his way to the stairs, Tug saw Plato in the faint glow of the embers, already wearing his night hood and resting from the world of observation. Nan followed Tug to the top of the tree and tucked him into bed with Leopold— something she had never done before.
“I hoped you would find your way to my cottage, but I couldn’t be sure. I am very glad you did.”
Tug smiled at Nan, and she bent over and kissed his forehead before descending back down the spiral staircase.
That night, Tug slept straight through. His dreams were restful, and only one stayed with him when he woke up in the morning. Like all dreams, it had its own logic that escaped the rules of the waking world and made it difficult to understand any clear meaning. Still, he had been learning to accept the images that came to him, senseless though they seemed.
Tug lay in bed and told Leopold how, in his dream, he followed Plato through the woods until the bird perched high up in a tree. Tug began to climb up after the bird, but Plato kept flying to higher and higher boughs until Tug climbed up above the clouds and finally found Plato waiting in a nest at the top. When Tug peered into the nest, he saw an egg that Plato pushed towards him with his beak, encouraging the boy to take it.
It was then that Tug realized he could understand Plato’s thinking in the same way the crow received Tug’s own thoughts. Plato held an image of Tug presenting the egg to a king who possessed all the riches of the world. Tug wondered who this king was or where he might find him. But when he tried to search the bird’s vision for more details, Plato became agitated and fled from the nest, causing Tug to lose his footing, waking up from the dream as he fell.
“What do you think it means?” Tug asked Leopold.
The bear just looked out the window and let out a small whimper.
“I bet Nan could tell us,” and Tug scooped up Leopold in his blanket and bounded down the staircase two steps at a time. When he reached the bottom he looked for Nan, but knew instantly she was not in the cottage, nor in the garden, or even in the woods that surrounded the meadow. She had left him on his own, and it was up to Tug to decide what he should do.
THERE WAS BREAD left on the hearth, and a basket of apples on the table. Tug took some of each and wrapped them in cheesecloth before leaving. He felt rushed, like he was already overdue to depart, though he did not know what he was departing for. Tug rolled his bundle up in his fate blanket and tied it with a rope that he slung over his shoulder. He made his way to the door but was stopped by Leopold tugging at his pant leg. Tug looked down and saw the bear looking up the staircase, and he remembered the spoon that he left in the nightstand.
Tug set down his bundle and raced up the stairs. After retrieving the spoon, he turned to head back down, but paused when he heard a familiar tapping at the glass. Plato looked intent on getting Tug’s attention, but did not come in when he opened the window.
Remembering his dream, Tug looked at Plato and tried to imagine what the bird might wish to express. The nest from Tug’s dream came back to him, and as soon as Tug held that image in his mind, Plato flew from the sill up to a branch above the cottage window. Tug hesitated, though he knew his instincts in his dream were to follow Plato. He reached through the window and grabbed a branch growing a couple of feet above the gable of his bedroom. As he swung himself out of the window and pulled himself up the trunk of the tree, the branch he was grabbing bent slightly under his weight. Tug felt his stomach lurch. He pulled his feet up to another branch and slowly put his weight on it before he pushed up with his legs and reached for a higher branch. He moved slowly up the tree in this fashion, his legs shaking with each push and his hands squeezing tighter than necessary to the boughs above his head.
When Tug did glance down, he quivered at the sight. It was the same view from his bedroom window, but now distorted by the added height and his hanging directly over the garden far below him. He turned his head up and followed Plato from branch to branch, feeling the branches bend more as they thinned out at the top of the tree. At last, Plato flew to the edge of the nest from Tug’s dream, and Tug wrapped his arms around the tree trunk to crane his neck over and see the egg he knew would be there.
Tug had to wait for the winds to die down before he could reach over and grab it. He closed his eyes and felt the entire top of the tree sway in the breeze like an upside-down pendulum. With his eyes closed, Tug saw an image of the king from his dream. He was decorated in jewels and gold, but that did little to change his haggard appearance. Tug began to study the mental image, but was brought out of his imaginings by Plato’s cawing. The tree was still, and Tug immediately reached out for the egg and placed it gently in the pouch sewn into his shirt. No sooner had Tug stowed the egg, than a screech came from somewhere above him. Plato immediately alighted and flew down towards the open window. Tug realized the egg was not Plato’s, but belonged to another bird who had come back to protect it.
This was not part of Tug’s dream, but he remembered what happened when he waited too long at the nest. He began climbing down, much more swiftly than before and with a sense of urgency. He did not make it to the window before a great hawk began swooping at Tug, talons scraping into his shoulder and across his neck. Tug ignored the stinging at his back, and waited for the hawk to fly off for another pass before scurrying down to his bedroom gable and swinging himself through the open window. Leopold was waiting there for him, and slammed the window shut once Tug was inside, a moment before the mother bird swooped by with an angry shriek.
Tug immediately lifted the egg out of his clothes to make sure it was intact. He stared at it while he caught his breath, and Leopold examined the scratches on his back to see if he was badly hurt.
“I’m okay. We should get moving.” Tug looked up at Plato, perched on the headboard of his bed. “Can you lead us to the Nome Kingdom?”
The bird cawed once before flying across the room, soaring gracefully through the door and down the spiral staircase. Tug carefully placed the egg back in his pouch and picked up Leopold to carry him down the stairs. After collecting his fate blanket and provisions, they set forth through the woods with Plato leading the way. As they traveled, the forest animals gathered behind them and followed in procession. Tug could see that they were concerned, but understood the gesture of support. Realizing that the animals knew more than he did about what he was about to face made Tug feel both scared and reassured about the path he was choosing.
At last, Plato led them to the spot Tug had first found himself after leaving the Nome Kingdom. As he approached, Tug saw the cave entrance. Goosebumps pricked his skin with the realization that he had to enter the darkness that hung behind the cave opening like a heavy black curtain. In his haste to leave, Tug failed to bring anything to light his way.
“Do you think we should go back to Nan’s cottage for some candles?” Tug asked Leopold, but the bear shook his head and pointed at his chest, indicating he would lead the boy through the darkness. Tug was not convinced, but when Leopold held out his paw, Tug took it and followed the bear through the opening. They paused at the mouth of the cave to see Plato watching from a nearby tree, surrounded by the other animals
that had come to see them off.
“Thank you,” Tug said to Plato. “And please thank Nan. I never got the chance.”
Leopold led Tug very slowly to the back of the cave and paused before proceeding down the stone steps. With Tug’s free hand, he felt the contours of the stone walls that made sharp turns as the stairs descended deeper underground. Tug had to be so careful of his footing he was distracted from the fear he felt for what loomed in the blackness all around him.
After many twists and turns, Tug could see the faintest glow coming from somewhere below. At first it was so dim that it only made the blackness below them a little less black than where they were. But as they continued, it became more distinct until they rounded a corner and could see the light of a torch at the bottom of the stairs. Both he and Leopold approached it cautiously, and as they drew near they could make out something lying beneath it. Tug stopped several steps before the bottom to study the creature that was sleeping at the foot of the stairs. It looked like some sort of goblin to Tug, and next to him on the floor was a tiny cage, but its door was open and the cage was empty.
Tug looked down at Leopold, and was surprised to see him smiling. When Leopold nodded, motioning that it was okay, Tug let go of his paw, and the bear slowly approached the sleeping Nome and nudged him gently.
Feldspar rolled onto his back and looked up at the two of them, blinking hard to make sure they were really there.
“Have returned!” the Nome cried, and then slapped his hands over his mouth as if he could take back the noise he just made.
“Do I know you?” Tug asked.
“Yes, friend Feldspar. Just not remembering.”
“Do you know why I’m here?” Tug asked, hoping he could tell him what he couldn’t recall.
“A promise to come back for me. We go upstairs, together.”
Tug knew that didn’t feel right and he shook his head. “Is there a girl down here?”
Feldspar nodded, “Mamelon. No desire to leave the Nome Kingdom.”
“I have to see her,” Tug demanded.
“Not safe for you. If caught, fed sleeping mushrooms and locked away with the bear.”
Tug looked down at Leopold and wondered if it was a mistake to put him in danger. There was nothing preventing them from returning up to the forest and forgetting all about the Nome Kingdom.
“If you want to go back up, that’s okay,” Tug said to Leopold.
But the bear just shook his head and wrapped his arms around Tug’s leg. The gesture made Tug feel better about the danger they might be facing.
The little Nome rubbed his hands together and looked about nervously. “Must hide. They come soon to check.”
Feldspar took the torch down from the wall and led them through the cavern, stopping at a low opening that was partially blocked with small boulders. The Nome handed the torch to Leopold and then squatted with his back to one of the boulders and began pushing it away from the entrance. Tug helped him until they created an opening large enough to crawl through.
“Abandoned mine,” Feldspar explained, taking the torch back from Leopold and shining it into the cleft rock. “More tremors here. Careful.”
Tug went in last, taking great care not to break the egg he was carrying. As he ran his hands along the walls, he observed details about the underground cavern from the skills he had learned during his time with the scribe. The rock all around him felt weak, not just structurally— though that was very much the case— but also drained of its own identity, like a faded photograph where you can’t make out the image. The gemstones that make-up points of time, compressed energy and elemental forces that form a network below the surface, were missing from this place. And a vast expanse was suffering for it.
At one point, Tug felt a feeble point in the rock where all the pitted and hollow remnants of the mined cavern seemed to converge in a precarious balance. Tug instructed Feldspar and Leopold to avoid even brushing against the supports at that spot, “I suppose the Nomes knew enough to abandon the mine before it collapsed,” Tug said, “but I doubt that any of them know how unstable all of these tunnels are.”
As they continued through the warren of empty mineshafts, Tug tried to learn all he could from Feldspar, though he wasn’t sure what questions to ask.
“How close can you get us to the girl?”
“Mines go everywhere under the Kingdom. But Mamelon’s grotto has many crickets.”
The Nome’s answer made little sense to Tug, but he kept trying, “You think she won’t want to leave, even though you do?”
“Mamelon has all she wants. Feldspar is a lowly Nome. Never seen upstairs.”
“Do you think there are other Nomes like you that might want to leave?”
“Can’t say. Can’t talk about it with other Nomes.”
Tug considered what he knew about the weakened state of this underground empire. Nan had shared what she could of his fate, including a possible choice to save the Nome Kingdom, but Tug failed to see how he might influence an entire race that would probably lock him away forever if he were discovered.
“Get as close as you can to that grotto. I’ll try to figure out what to do from there,” Tug said to Feldspar.
The little Nome led them to another opening in the mine that was walled up with stones. Through the cracks, Tug could see an open cavern with a little cobblestone house at the end of it.
“Mamelon’s grotto,” Feldspar whispered.
As they watched and tried to figure out what to do next, several Nomes came and went from the little house. Leopold recoiled at the sight of them, and Tug stroked his fur to calm both the bear and himself. The grotto was so overrun with Nomes that Tug could not see any way to get inside without being noticed.
“Can you bring her to us?” Tug asked Feldspar.
“Depends. Mamelon may not want to come.”
“We’ll have to take that chance. I don’t see any other way to get near her.”
“Wait,” Feldspar instructed, and climbed through another mineshaft and disappeared in blackness.
Within a few moments, Feldspar emerged at the far end of the grotto. From their vantage point, Tug and Leopold could see Feldspar approach the house and go inside. Tug held the bear up so they could both peer through the cracks between the stones, waiting for the first glimpse of the girl. But it was only Nomes that left the house, and they were usually replaced by others waiting to get in.
When Tug had almost given up hope, the door opened and a girl about his age stepped onto the threshold. The Nomes milling about all stopped and gave her their attention.
“Listen up!” she called out to the Nomes, though it was an unnecessary command. “I have just received word that the Auberon Leopold has returned to the Nome Kingdom with the boy. The Council must report to King Renatus. The rest of you, do not stop searching until you find them.”
TUG held Leopold and waited to be found by the Nomes. He knew Leopold couldn’t really defend himself, and Tug wondered if he was the type of person who could fight if need be. And then he wondered if he could just make up his mind to be that kind of person.
Jodie left the grotto while the remaining Nomes scurried back and forth. Thankfully, none of the Nomes came towards the stacked stones that Tug and Leopold were hiding behind.
“Feldspar must not have told her where we were,” Tug said, but he also feared it was simply a matter of time until they were discovered.
It was only moments before Tug heard noises coming from farther down the mineshaft. Leopold got to his feet and Tug held his breath. As a torchlight drew near the opening, Tug was relieved to spot Feldspar, but was surprised to see that the little Nome was followed by the girl.
Tug recognized her from his dreams, but had no memory of who she was as a flesh-and-bone person. Jodie gave Tug a joyous smile, but there was a bewilderment in Tug’s eyes and Jodie could see that he did, indeed, have his memories taken from him with his name.
“My name is Jodie,” she said.
/> Tug nodded and squinted his eyes, as if he was searching inside of himself for a recollection that wasn’t there.
“I’m Henry,” he said, but immediately thought that she must know that.
“I only know you as Tug.”
Leopold nodded, and Tug tried to imagine being another boy besides Henry, the only identity he had of himself. He wondered if this other boy had different memories of his parents, or liked the same things, or might have felt something other than fear since entering the Nome Kingdom.
Tug shook his head in frustration, “I just don’t know anything.”
“You don’t have to,” Jodie said. “You came back, just like you said you would. It doesn’t matter if you remember that or not.” Leopold climbed up into Jodie’s lap, and she held him while she continued talking with Tug. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave with you. I was scared and angry. I didn’t know what would happen, or if you could ever make it back.”
“It’s okay. I guess I didn’t know, either. Why did you tell the Nomes we’re here?”
“They’re watching every move I make. I had to distract them and make them believe that I wouldn’t run off with you. Feldspar told me you were well hidden.”
“For now,” the Nome added. “They look everywhere.”
“I know where Uncle Oscar is,” Jodie said. “They don’t hide anything from me. They think I’m happy to stay here in the Nome Kingdom— maybe I was, for a while— but the Council wants me to be mad and bossy all the time. They brag to me about things they shouldn’t, like how the King will conquer and control the upstairs world now that he remembers his plans.”
Jodie paused for a moment and looked at Leopold. “That’s why you tricked the King into losing his memories before, isn’t it? So he would forget about his wicked plans.”
Leopold nodded, grinning with pride that his true motives were understood.
Jodie continued trying to explain, “The Nomes are so unhappy, and they want me to be just like them.” Tears began to well up in her eyes. “I was afraid that I was like them. I just didn’t believe you’d ever come back. I hoped, but I never believed it. Tug, I’m sorry.”
The Mystic Travelogues Page 11
