Read Peter Nimble and His Fantastic Eyes Page 17


  “About that,” Peter said, trying to ignore the slight. “Why send a riddle? You could have saved us a lot of trouble if you’d written something less complicated.”

  “It wasn’t that complicated,” she muttered.

  “Yeah!” Scrape added. “And how was she supposed to know it’d end up in the hands of some blind dummy and his ugly pet?”

  Sir Tode, who up to this point had been listening quietly, had evidently had enough. “I’ve had enough,” he said, leaping to his hooves. “I am a fierce knight, known the world over for slaying dragons. Who among you can boast such a feat? And this ‘blind dummy’ just happens to be the legendary Peter Nimble . . . the greatest thief who ever lived.”

  At these words, Peter felt every person turn toward him. He shifted his weight, grateful for once that he was unable to return their gazes.

  “Child, is this true?” Simon said, hopping closer.

  Peter did not answer immediately. When he considered the question, all he could think of was how he had made so many mistakes on the journey so far. But with those recollections came the stronger memory of what the professor had told him on the shore of the island. “It’s true,” he said. “I’ve met the thieves of the Just Deserts, and I’m better than the whole lot of them put together—they said as much themselves. Sir Tode and I were chosen to rescue you . . . and that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

  “It kind of fits.” Trouble wiped his nose. “He’s a stranger, at least.”

  “And he did open all them locks,” Scrape added.

  “Our hero!” Giggle and Marbles said in unison.

  Peg, however, remained unconvinced. “We’ll see” was all she could muster.

  “Honestly, Princess, I don’t care what you believe,” Peter said, rising with Sir Tode. “Professor Cake trusted us, and that’s good enough for me.”

  “Who is this professor?” Simon asked.

  Peter wasn’t sure he could answer this question. “He’s an old man who looks after everything. He’s the one who found your bottle—it floated to him on the sea.”

  “The sea.” The raven shook his head. “Then Justice has delivered us a miracle indeed. These shores have not touched the great waters for many years now. Not since the Cursed Birthday.”

  “The what?” Peter asked.

  “I am sure you two have wondered how this land came to be hidden from the wide world,” Simon said. “Perhaps a story is in order?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE CURSED BIRTHDAY

  You may have observed in your own lives that there is a great power in storytelling. A well-spun tale can transport listeners away from their humdrum lives and return them with an enlarged sense of the world. No sooner had Simon suggested a story than Sir Tode leapt to action. “A story?” He clopped his hoof against the dirt. “Why, that’s a splendid idea!” The knight knew the importance of setting the mood, and he refused to let Simon continue until a proper circle had been formed. The bird stood uncomfortably in the middle of the group, his shadow flickering large against the moldy cavern walls.

  “Right then,” Sir Tode said. “You were saying something about how this kingdom mysteriously vanished? And a birthday?”

  The old raven nodded. “Back then, it was called the Isle of HazelPort.”

  Peter knew that “hazel” was a fancy word for a color found in some people’s eyes. “That’s kind of a funny name for a desert, isn’t it?” he said, hoping it wasn’t rude to interrupt.

  “These lands were not always so barren. Originally there was no palace or desert. There were only the stones, the sea, and the sky. The entire realm was owned by a Rich Man with two sons. Though they were brothers, the sons could not have been more different. The youngest, Lord Hazelgood, was of noble and generous heart—”

  “That was my papa!” Peg said proudly.

  “The older brother, Lord Incarnadine, was rapacious and cruel. He never missed an opportunity to abuse the peasants of the land. The Rich Man was greatly troubled by the wickedness he saw in his eldest son’s heart, and he feared what might become of the people if ever he ascended to power. And so, upon his death, he bequeathed the whole of the island to his younger son instead.”

  “I’m sure that went over well,” Sir Tode said.

  “It was an equal shock to both brothers. Lord Hazelgood was not much older than Her Majesty when he came to power, but he was already wise enough to know that his father must have chosen him for a reason, and he vowed to honor that trust. At this time, the humans of the land were scavengers, forced to scrounge for rainwater and food. But young Hazelgood envisioned a better future. He would build a great palace to shine like a jewel on the sea.

  “When the people first heard of his plans, they scoffed. How could he, scarcely more than a child, ever hope to accomplish such a feat? Each brick would have to be chiseled from rock deep underground. The task seemed impossible.

  “Lord Hazelgood, however, would not be deterred. If his fellow humans would not help him, then he would turn elsewhere. He looked among the animals on the island and chose the most miserable group he could find: ravens. Back then, we were quarrelsome, petty creatures. Though fierce, we were too busy fighting amongst ourselves to fight our predators. It was said our tough meat was ideal for salting and preserving, and because of this, we were being killed off in droves. When Lord Hazelgood came to us, only one unkindness remained.”

  Sir Tode’s mustache twitched. “One what?”

  “An unkindness is the word for a group of ravens,” he explained.

  “Of course. Like a ‘school’ of fish,” Peter said, wishing for the first time that he had himself attended school—it might have saved him some confusion in the Just Deserts.

  “Precisely. As I was saying, there were few ravens left when Hazelgood came to us—I was among them. We were suspicious of humans, and unwilling to trust Lord Hazelgood’s words. But one night when a tribe of hunters ambushed our nests, he came to our aid and defended us. He was badly injured, but he managed to save every last egg. From that day forward, the ravens swore to protect Lord Hazelgood and his Line with our very lives.”

  Princess Peg reached over and ran her hand across Simon’s dark feathers. “They’ve done just that.”

  “Lord Hazelgood taught us how to fight as one. When guided by a single voice, we were able to defend nests on the ground and dodge rocks in the air. And then we set out to build a kingdom together. Our first act was to dig a great well. Though surrounded by oceans, the island was without any fresh water. There were no rivers or streams anywhere to be found; everyone was dependent on the mercy of passing rain clouds. In his wisdom, Lord Hazelgood knew that if he could provide clean water, the people of the land would join him. Using only our talons and beaks, we dug at Hazelgood’s side for seven long years, until finally we found a great spring deep in the earth. We hollowed out a rock and set it upon the spot, where it remains to this day.”

  “Kettle Rock,” Peter said. “We came across it in the deserts.”

  “The rock stands?” Simon said wistfully. “What I would give to see those hallowed grounds once more. It was Kettle Rock that awakened the people of this land. Once they saw its clear springs, they finally believed that Hazelgood’s dream was possible. Over the next ten years, men, women, and ravens worked with him to transform the wilds into a great palace. We tapped the headwaters below ground and brought streams into the streets. We built a home for every person and filled the courtyards with gardens. The town was named HazelPort, and the people crowned Lord Hazelgood their king. We ravens were appointed as his Royal Guard. All was at peace, if only for a season.”

  Sir Tode, who had something of a knack for narrative, groaned. “Cue the scorned older brother.”

  “Scorned and scornful,” Simon said. “During the years of construction, Lord Incarnadine became consumed with jealousy. He had been robbed of his birthright, and he vowed never to forgive the slight. He refused to set foot on the grounds of his brother??
?s palace, remaining on the outskirts with only a few animals and deranged criminals to keep him company. Year after year, King Hazelgood invited his brother to come build at his side, and year after year the offer was rejected.

  “As the towers grew, so too did Lord Incarnadine’s bitterness. And finally one cold night, he took to the seas. No one knows where he traveled in those years, but it was whispered that he went in search of dark magic unlike anything seen in this land. And during all that time, he never lost sight of his single aim—”

  “Revenge!” Sir Tode said with a bit too much enthusiasm.

  “Revenge,” Simon echoed more sorrowfully. “It fell on the eve of a great celebration. The palace had been completed, and so the people had all begun building families. Chief among them was King Hazelgood, who had fallen in love with a beautiful woman named Lady Magnolia. Together, they were anticipating the birth of twin children: one boy and one girl. In honor of this momentous occasion, the citizens of HazelPort had decided to throw a great feast.

  “On the night the prince and princess were to be born, every soul in the kingdom assembled in the courtyard. The people cheered as King Hazelgood and Queen Magnolia presented their heirs. The girl, who was born first, was publicly christened Princess Peg.”

  “That’s me,” Peg said, blushing.

  “What was the other twin’s name?” Peter asked Simon.

  “The second child was never given a name. For on that very night, Lord Incarnadine had secretly returned to the kingdom and disguised himself within the crowd. He brought with him an army of monsters, the likes of which no one had ever seen—a horde of savage beasts, apes from another land, armed for war. Where he found the creatures, I do not know, nor can I say how he managed to gain their loyalty. He had smuggled them into the palace through underground sewers, where they awaited his command.

  “When King Hazelgood raised the second child before his subjects, Lord Incarnadine loosed a battle cry, and his terrible army attacked. The creatures swept through the crowd, killing and devouring the people.” Simon paused for a moment, overtaken by his emotions. “It was a massacre.”

  Peter winced as he ran his fingers along the scars on his forearm—he knew how ruthless apes could be. “Didn’t the Royal Guard fight back?” he said.

  “Some, yes. But our forces had already been drawn away. Incarnadine had made a deal with the thieves living in the kingdom—for even a happy kingdom has its share of villains. Right before the christening, the Royal Guard discovered that all of the sleeping children had been stolen from their beds.”

  “They were all clipped,” Peter said with wonder. He remembered how the old thief Clipper had refused to help him back in the Just Deserts. “I’m not doin’ it again!” he had shouted before running off into the night.

  “They were betrayed,” Simon said bitterly. “The thieves hid the infants deep underground where no one could hear their cries and then took to the sea with bags full of gold—payment for their treachery. Incarnadine had given the bags knowing that they would be mistaken for the missing children. When some of our guards reported their hasty escape, our captain led the bulk of our flock in pursuit. It was only after the flock left the palace that Incarnadine and his army attacked. The ape creatures were armed with weapons that could breathe fire and cast spears through the air. Those of us remaining were unprepared for such magic. We fought bravely, but were too few.”

  “What happened to the other ravens?” Sir Tode asked.

  “Our captain and his troop caught the thieves and attacked them while they were still trying to sail to safety. When the men realized how they and their bags of gold had been used as bait, they roared so loudly that it shook the stars from their constellations.”

  A chill prickled up Peter’s neck. “The Back-Stabber’s Blight,” he whispered.

  “The what?” Princess Peg asked.

  “It’s a horrible curse,” he explained. “I’ve only heard rumors of it before. It’s said that when a thief is double-crossed by another thief, he can call a horrible curse upon the back-stabber’s head.”

  “What is the punishment?” Simon pressed with new interest.

  “They say that every man under the Back-Stabber’s Blight ends up dying the same way: like a miserable worm.”

  “He deserves no less,” the old bird said. “Whether or not your Blight comes to be, it is a fact that his plan worked that night. With the ravens divided, Incarnadine and his army stormed the royal chambers. He murdered his brother, the true king, and seized the throne. To answer your question, this was the Cursed Birthday.”

  “Oh,” Peter said, half wishing he hadn’t asked.

  “So the evil brother stole back his inheritance,” Sir Tode said, imagining the dramatic scene. “And thus ends the tale of the Cursed Birthday.”

  “Not entirely,” Simon responded. “King Hazelgood knew his brother’s lust for power would not be satisfied with this small island and that soon he would grow bored and sail out to terrorize other kingdoms. So in his final breath, he placed a curse over the land. He declared that so long as Incarnadine reigned, HazelPort’s shores would never meet the sea. And at those words, the island trembled from pole to pole. The earth split in two and swallowed the ocean whole, leaving only a borderless wasteland.”

  “The whole kingdom vanished!” Sir Tode stomped a hoof.

  “We’ve been trapped here ever since,” the princess said bitterly. “The big pit surrounding the palace is too wide to cross, even for Simon. No one can get in or out.”

  “No one but us,” Peter reminded her. Though he had declared before that he didn’t care what the princess thought of him, he found himself seeking her approbation. “If that’s not proof we’re supposed to be here, what is?”

  “He’s got a point,” Sir Tode said before moving to a more pressing subject. “Now, I see just a few holes in this story, Simon. You explained how the Just Deserts came about, but how did the ravens seize control of the place?”

  Simon blinked at Sir Tode. “I do not understand your question. The ravens and the thieves all drowned when the seas withdrew. I have heard rumor of a few survivors, but . . .”

  “Not a few,” Peter said. “Thousands. They’re led by a bird named Captain Amos.”

  Simon caught his breath and hopped closer. “Captain Amos? He lives? Did he and his brothers help you on your quest?”

  “Yes . . . and no,” Peter said. “I think the ravens tried to help us, but I made the mistake of trusting the prisoners, and they used me to help break into the armory and steal back their weapons.” Hearing the old bird’s story made Peter realize just how wrong he had been in trusting the thieves. “When we left the Just Deserts, Captain Amos and the others were still fighting for their lives.” He hung his head in shame. “I’m sorry.”

  “There is nothing we can do for them now. My brothers are strong fighters. Justice will deliver them.” The old bird remained silent for a long while, contemplating the war raging on the other side of the chasm.

  Peg finished the story. “Once my uncle took the throne, he acted like the whole attack had been a bad dream. The adults woke up the next morning to a clean palace and a hot breakfast. He pretended that he had always been their king, and they his loving subjects. The missing children were never mentioned again, and anyone who dared speak of them was made to disappear. The rest of the grown-ups were so afraid that they went along with the whole thing. After a few years, they forgot we ever existed.”

  “But how can that be?” Sir Tode exclaimed. “How can parents forget their own children?”

  “That is a question I cannot answer,” Simon said. “Somehow, King Incarnadine has lowered a great cloud over the minds of his citizens. They believe his lies and follow his commands without question.”

  Peter had heard of traveling doctors who could entrance patients by dangling pocket watches in their faces or touching their temples with magnets—but nothing so powerful as what Simon was describing. He thought back on his conversa
tions over supper with Mrs. Molasses and her neighbors. They had all sounded so earnest in their love for the king. “There has to be an explanation,” he said aloud.

  Peg shrugged. “It’s the same way he controls the locks, and the bell tower, and everything else in the palace: he uses magic.”

  “You call that stuff magic,” Peter said, “but it’s just clockwork, right?” This had been bothering him ever since arriving; it seemed like people here knew almost nothing about science or logic. Peter was no genius, but he had been able to understand how gears worked since he was very young. Yet Mrs. Molasses, Peg, and even Simon seemed to treat such things like they were powerful enchantments.

  “Perhaps these devices are simple to someone from your land,” the raven said. “But here, they are mysteries unlike anything we have seen. The king uses a ‘clockwork,’ as you call it, to keep both adults and children imprisoned.”

  “I’d trade with the grown-ups any day,” Peg said. “They get to sleep in beds and eat as much as they want. Meanwhile, us kids are stuck in the mines. Since we were old enough to stand, he’s had us slaving away on a great magic beast—”

  “Clockwork!” Giggle and Marbles jumped in, smiling at Peter. Both girls were developing a bit of a crush on the young thief.

  Peg rolled her eyes and continued. “We spent our whole lives in the mines, working a clockwork beast that eats through the very rock.”

  “What’s he digging for?” Peter asked. “Treasure?”

  She shrugged. “Frankly, I don’t care. I’m more worried about staying alive. And now that you two showed up, it’s getting a lot harder. The king’s tightened curfew, and the monsters have begun random inspections of people’s houses. Apparently, one of the sparrows told them about a stranger—I thought they knew better than that.”