Chapter 14
Gabelle’s cluttered fitting room reeked of leather. Bolts of it lay in so many heaps Winnie barely fit inside. The mel-yew seamstress didn’t seem to mind the closeness of the room. She hummed to herself as she snipped and clipped, tucked and pinned the soft, reddish material around Winnie’s waist.
Within minutes Gabelle turned her toward a cheval glass so she could appraise her new formfitting battle tunic. It not only made her feel like a warrior princess, but it resembled the outfit she’d worn in her nightmare. The straps on her leather sandals crisscrossed up her calves the same way they had in her dream. She’d barely formed a thought about her missing knife when Gabelle handed her a leather belt. A sheathed dagger hung from the side.
Icy panic shot through her. What if Mikey got the timeline wrong? What if giant spiders had already landed on the beach? She had to see for herself.
“Thanks. See ya.” Winnie sprinted out the door.
Loy marched beside her. “Sir, you look very much the general now.”
She ignored the compliment. “Which way to the nearest exit?”
He led the way. “What is the alarm, General?”
She pointed at her uniform. “This. I have to check something.”
Reaching the main hall involved one left turn, two rights, and another left through the corridors. Thankfully, Loy guided her, or she never would’ve found the pair of heavy doors. Two mel-yew doormen swung them open, allowing her to scurry out and down the outer steps. She glanced left to right for a carriage to take her to the beach. Only one cart heaped with straw stood in the courtyard. A loud honking sound from above gave her a better idea.
She turned to the page. “I need the wiggets.”
“If you’ll pardon me, General, there’s no time to tour the grounds. The army is already assembled for your inspection.”
“They’ll have to wait.” She strode from him in what she hoped was an easterly direction.
“General,” Loy called, “Queen Bogen specifically stated—”
“It’s an emergency.” She ran to a fenced-in area where a dozen gray birds, similar to the one she’d seen earlier, perched on a row of tall posts. They faced a wizened mel-yew woman.
“Yes-yes,” the trainer said in a high-pitched voice.
“Wigget-wigget,” chirped the birds. “Yes-yes.”
“No-no,” one squawked. The others joined in, saying no.
“Harken,” the trainer said. “We are learning yes-yes.”
“Harken-wigget,” the bird said. “No-no.”
“No-no, wigget-wigget,” the other birds said in unison.
The trainer sighed and shook her head.
“Excuse me,” Winnie called from outside the fence.
The trainer’s eyes glowed in recognition. “Why, you’re the new general! How may I be of service?” The trainer bent into a deep bow.
Too anxious to find a gate, Winnie climbed the fence. “I wondered if you could spare one of your students to fly me to the beach. I need to inspect the lookout post.”
“Right away, General. Please come this way.”
Winnie followed the trainer to a shed. A wooden bin, filled with belts, straps, and leather vests in assorted sizes, stood just inside.
“We’d never been asked to transport a general.” She rooted through the collection. “This should do.”
The trainer handed Winnie a vest made of material so thick it reminded her of the kind she wore when she water-skied.
“This will protect your shoulders from the talons.”
Winnie slid her arms into the vest. “I really appreciate you doing this on such short notice.” The material fit tightly, but she could fasten the laces in front.
“We’re pleased to do what we can, General.”
Outside, the woman blew on a gold whistle she wore on a chain around her neck. Though Winnie heard nothing, all the birds straightened to attention.
“Harken to fly,” the trainer said.
A huge wig get glided from its post and landed on the thick leather covering Winnie’s shoulders. The large bird felt surprisingly light.
“Harken is an excellent flier,” the trainer said, “but his speech isn’t what it should be.”
Winnie cringed. “This is safe, right? I mean, he won’t let go once we’re in the air, will he?”
“No, no, General,” the trainer said with a smile. “My wig gets are very well trained. They would risk their own lives to protect a rider.”
Winnie didn’t want anybody risking lives, especially her own. Still, if she hoped to see what was happening on that beach, she had to trust the large gray bird. She took a deep breath. “Guess I’m ready.”
“I have something for you.” The mel-yew trainer toddled back to the shed. She returned with a gold whistle on a chain. She hung it around Winnie’s neck. “Whenever you need their assistance, just blow twice on the whistle, and a wig get will come to you.”
Winnie tucked the chain inside her tunic beside her mother’s locket. “Thanks.”
“Wigget, beach,” the trainer said. “Wigget, big beach.”
The bird clamped onto the material on Winnie’s shoulders. “Wigget-wigget, big-beach.” He flapped his huge wings.
Her muscles tensed. The material under her arms pinched as the bird lifted her. She rose only two inches above the ground when Harken squawked. “Wigget-wigget, too-big, too-big.”
He gently returned her to the ground.
The trainer rushed to her. “I’m terribly sorry, General. Forgive me for saying so, but mel-yew guards are much smaller and lighter than yourself.”
“Can we try another wigget? This is important.”
“We’ve never done that before.” The trainer tapped her pointy chin, considering it.
Winnie shifted from one foot to the other. Her insides jangled. She had to reach the ocean.
“Since this is an emergency,” said the trainer, “let’s see if we can make this work.” She took a leather belt from the bin and fastened it around Winnie’s waist. She puffed into her silent whistle. “Sender to fly.”
A second bird gripped the belt at her lower back. The wig get at her shoulders honked, and the other flapped his wings, pulling her upward in a prone position. This time she hovered a foot in the air before the one at her back said, “Too-big,” and let go. The bird at her shoulders gently lowered her to her feet.
Her quivering body demanded that she give up. She took a deep breath. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but can we try one more?”
A moment later, the trainer attached leather bands to Winnie’s ankles and called a third wigget. Upon the command to fly, the one at Winnie’s shoulders pulled her up. The second again clasped the belt at her lower back. Finally, the third wigget’s talons gripped her covered ankles. This time the birds lifted her and kept rising, inch by inch. Higher and higher.
The birds honked like Canada geese except words came out. “Big-beach,” said the one at her shoulders. “Follow-follow,” called the other two. As they flew upward, Winnie’s muscles clenched. Please don’t let go.
The birds cleared the treetops and leveled off. She peeked down and shuddered at the thought of falling from such a great height. She closed her eyes. The trio flew so smoothly that in time she opened them again. She stretched out her arms, enjoying the exhilarating sensation of gliding through the warm air.
The scenery quickly changed from valley to forest. They flew so high she spotted the beach and the smelly ocean long before they reached it. From her vantage point she found no signs of the enemy. She let out a breath of relief. At the beach, the bird at her ankles released first. The one at her back let go next, returning her to an upright position. The one at her shoulders safely lowered her onto the gray sand. She puffed so hard from relief over the safe landing she had to breathe into her shirtsleeve to filter out the smelly air.
Her heart rate finally returned to normal. “Thanks, guys.”
The wig gets waddled beside her, murmuring, “Thanks-guys, thanks-guys.”
Pall, the palm leader, trotted up to Winnie. He bowed his head. “Greetings, General! So good to find you well.”
Relief that he hadn’t held a grudge over the water incident relaxed her even more.
“Commander Fynn was just here seeing to everything, good General.”
She turned toward the ocean. “I wanted to see a few things myself.” A palm scout stood on the solidified water, facing the horizon, per her instructions. His arms, though, hung loosely at his sides.
“Why isn’t your scout using the binoculars?”
“Binoculars, General?”
“You know. The black things you look through?”
He rubbed his muzzle thoughtfully. “Black things…”
“Mine,” cried a shrill voice behind Winnie. She turned. Two palm colts yanked on opposite sides of the binoculars strap.
“Hey!” She stomped toward them. “That’s not a toy.”
The colts dropped the binoculars in the sand and scampered away.
She picked them up. “This is what your scout is supposed to be using.”
“It is indeed a black thing, General.”
Winnie snorted. She wobbled across the jellied ocean to the scout on lookout duty.
“Good day, General.” The scout gave her a polite bow.
“Yeah, yeah,” she said absently. As soon as the ground stopped bobbing, she scanned the horizon through her binoculars. All remained clear. For now.
She faced the scout. “Your job is very important.”
He bobbed his head. “Very important, General.”
“You’ll be the first one to know if anything is coming this way.”
“Is something coming this way, General?”
She clapped a hand over her forehead. “What did you think you were doing out here all this time?”
“Standing.”
She sucked in a breath of air to control her temper. The stench, full strength, started a coughing fit. She hacked a few more times, then said slowly, “The lurk in are on the way.”
“The lurk in are?”
“You know the prophecy, right? Lurkin invasion? General Takka couldn’t make it, so I’m here? Any of that sound familiar?”
“The lurk in are coming, General.”
“You’re looking for spiders. Huge, hairy-legged spiders. Got it?” She slapped her binoculars into the scout’s human-like hand. “You need to watch the horizon.”
The horse hybrid stared at the binoculars.
“What’s the matter? Don’t you understand?”
The scout nodded, then shook his horse head from side to side.
“First of all, since your eyes are on opposite sides of your head, just use half.” She raised the binoculars so that one lens was level with his left eye.
“I see!” The scout aimed the binoculars at the beach. “My friends grow!”
She tugged his arm. “Look at the horizon!”
The scout aimed the binoculars at his feet.
“No. That way.” She pointed. “Where the sky and the ocean meet.”
“Ah. The much-far.”
“I don’t care if you call it your Aunt Sally. Just keep watching it. Now,” she said with another strained breath, “are we clear on what spiders are?”
“I fear not, good General.”
“Maybe you call them leggy things? Or crawly things. They make webs.”
“I have never heard tell of leggy-crawly things, General.”
She rubbed her throbbing temples. “Just look out there and watch for very large creatures with eight legs.”
The scout gasped. “Eight legs, General?”
“Can you count that high?”
“One, two, five, eight,” he said proudly.
She clenched her teeth and silently counted to ten. “Think of it this way. You’re looking for creatures with many more legs than you have. Understand?”
The scout beamed at her. “I do, General!”
Winnie wobble-marched back to firm ground.
“Wigget-wigget, where-to, where-to?”
In a burst of inspiration, she pointed out to sea. “Take me that way!”
The wig gets waddled around her, chirping, “No-go, no-go.”
She stomped her foot. “You have to. I’m the general.”
“They never follow instructions that might lead their rider into danger,” Pall said.
She looked from Pall to the nearest wigget. “What’s out there?”
“No-go, no-go.”
“How close is the danger?”
“Where-to, where-to?”
She huffed. “Can’t you just tell me?”
“Wiggets have large thoughts but small words,” said Pall. “Often what they know they cannot say.”
She kicked at the sand. “That’s just great.”
“Where-to, where-to?”
“Back to the castle, I guess. Pall, let me know if you see anything out there. Even if it looks like a little speck.”
He bowed. “Indeed, indeed. I shall report all little specks to you, General.”
Just to be clear she added in a slow voice so it would sink in, “The specks will be coming from that way.” She pointed out to sea.
The wig gets honked and, once again, lifted her into the air. They swiftly flew back to the castle. On their approach from above, solar panels gleamed from the castle roof. Solar power and candles, what a crazy place. Turning her attention to the ground, she counted eleven rows of mel-yew knights. They stood in formation in the courtyard. Guessing she’d found the army she was supposed to inspect, Winnie commanded the wig gets to land near them. They set her down, chirped a farewell, and flew away.
Fynn, the gray military toad, strutted to her. “Good of you to drop in, General. As you can see, the troops await your inspection.”
Winnie ignored his sarcasm and marched up and down the ranks. The soldiers wore metal armor. The fishbowl-shaped helmets that covered their round heads had a single narrow slit cut out for their eyes.
“Can they breathe all right in there?”
“They are warriors, General.”
She glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Warriors don’t breathe? And what about hearing? Can they hear?”
“Most certainly they can hear.” He marched to the front of the ranks and shouted, “Hup, hup!”
The knights clicked their heels together in unison.
“Porta-porta, tia-tia,” commanded Fynn.
“Hut ho!” came the knights’ muffled reply. They all pivoted to the left.
“There.” Fynn’s eyes flashed haughtily. “They can hear quite well.”
“What’s a tia-tia?”
“A command. What else would it be?”
“Sounds like something the wig gets might say. Where I come from, we say, ‘left face.’ It works just as well but doesn’t sound so funny.”
The voga’s eyes bulged. “I beg your pardon?”
“I carry the banner in our marching band. I know all about this.”
Winnie faced her army and explained the commands her marching band used at home.
“Begging the general’s pardon,” Fynn croaked. “Are you changing the words I use?”
“Just improving them.” She faced the troops. “Okay, guys, ready? Attention!” She imitated her school drum major’s commanding voice.
Simultaneously, the knights clacked their heels together.
“Please remove your helmets.”
The mel-yew knights didn’t move.
She turned to Fynn. “Are you sure they can hear?”
“That was an unusual order, General. Even for you.”
“But it was an order,” she said in a loud voice. “It’s supposed to be obeyed no matter how unusual it sounds.”
The knights’ heads turned from side to side, looking from one neighbor to the other. Slowly, they removed their helmets.
“Thank you.”
“General, they are accustomed to training in full battle gear.”
“And I’m accustomed to looking at people’s faces when I talk to them,” she said so only Fynn heard. “Guards,” she said, projecting her voice to the back of the ranks. “Do you understand my commands?”
All the little bald heads bobbed up and down. She ordered a left turn. They turned left. She ordered them to the right, and they complied. Just as she was silently congratulating herself on her leadership skills, she said, “About face.”
Their heavy armor wobbled. Metal clanked against metal. The knights toppled over.
She covered her eyes but still heard their floundering.
“You’re quite the military expert.”
She pulled her hands away, suddenly inspired. “Do you know what this means?”
“It means they’ve no need to turn all the way round. The royal army never retreats.”
“Get the queen. I have something important to show her.”
“Ordering me about now, is it?” he muttered under his breath as he strode away.
Winnie helped return the helmet less knights to their feet. She’d just finished lining them up in the shape of a large circle when Queen Bogen stepped onto the second-floor balcony. Commander Fynn stood at her side, glaring down.
Winnie faced the closest knight. “You’re at attention. Don’t move no matter what.”
The knight blinked up, then stared straight ahead.
“You probably won’t get this,” she said, “but trust me. It’ll make sense in time. Sorry.” She shoved the first knight. The weight of his armor sent him reeling backward. His shiny metal back thumped into the metal chest of the knight behind him. The second fell neatly into the third. One by one, Winnie’s silver domino army tipped over.
She spread her arms in triumph. “There! See?”
Queen Bogen spun on her heel and strode back inside the castle.
“Wait! I just made a huge point down here!”
A moment later, a voga page appeared at her side. “General, Her Royal Majesty commands an audience in her private chamber. She is in a state of fury.”