Picayune Page 3

  Swift-Hopper bent down so the dormouse didn't have to stretch. “Where’re we going?”

  “Um,” Picayune started, “perhaps you would be better off not knowing.”

  Swift-Hopper stood still while Picayune added the saddle, tack, and harness. “You're the boss.”

  Picayune checked everything again. He didn't have much practice in getting his mount ready to ride. “How snug is the gear?”

  Swift-Hopper squatted on the ground, lowering his bulky form as much as possible. “You did a good job. It’s comfortable.”

  Picayune climbed into the saddle and grabbed the reins. “We are off!”

  Swift-Hopper leapt to his feet, trotted to the fence, and jumped over it with ease. He dodged the trees and made his way to the front of the house. He waited for Picayune to guide him in the correct direction.

  Pulling the reins to the right, they moved in the same direction the other volunteers had travelled when they left town. The two of them rode through the center of town, passing the baker's wife doing the job Ameera had taken pride in doing each morning. Just as they reached the baker's house, Boulanger motioned to Picayune to come inside. Picayune stopped Swift-Hopper and went into the house.

  Boulanger greeted Picayune more calmly than he had previously. “Please find Ameera.”

  Picayune puffed out his chest. “I will do everything I can to find your daughter, sir.”

  Boulanger cried a little, hanging his head low as he stared at the floor. “She isn't my daughter.”

  Picayune swayed his tail slowly from side to side and his nose twitched. A puzzled look swept across his face. Curious, he asked, “What do you mean?”

  Boulanger glanced up and slammed his fist down on the table. “Don’t play me for a fool, boy. I know your father must have told you the story. Your parents were the only other ones who knew.”

  Picayune inched back. “Told me what? I honestly don’t know what you mean.”

  “You’re telling me that your father never mentioned how we found Ameera after wishing on a shooting star? I find that had to believe.”

  “What do you mean you found her?”

  “Luna showed us the way. We were out in the forest when a beam of light broke through the darkness and shined on the base of an oak tree. There we found Ameera wrapped in a purple, silk blanket. On her left shoulder was a birthmark in the shape of a crescent moon.”

  “Honest, Mr. Boulanger, my father never told me anything like this.”

  The baker reached inside his pocket and removed a silver and leather bracelet. “This was with her. Here! Take it!”

  Picayune twisted the charm in his paws and read the name etched on the back. “Gerent? Isn't the last name of the king Gerent?”

  The baker simply nodded, unable to answer.

  Picayune placed his paw over his heart. “But that would mean she’s a princess?”

  Boulanger sighed and slumped to the floor. “We knew keeping her was wrong, but we felt Luna had sent the sign that we should care for her. Remember the horrible sickness that swept through the castle a few seasons ago?”

  Picayune stood quietly, still turning the charm over and over in his paws.

  “When word of what happened reached our village, we were certain we had done the right thing. Discovering Ameera was our destiny, just as it is yours to find her now. Here, take this.” He handed Picayune a basket of flat bread. “My wife made these. They will keep much longer than normal sweetbread. Go now, and find her.”

  Picayune nodded, still taken aback by the news. He went outside, secured the basket to his friend's back, and climbed into the saddle. “I will find her, sir, and bring her home.” He urged Swift-Hopper down the road and into the forest.

  When they reached the edge of town, Swift-Hopper lifted his nose and headed off the worn path into the woods.

  Picayune pulled the reins. “Where are you going?”

  “I smell something sweet!” he squealed in delight. He trotted deeper into the woods until he broke into a clearing by some running water. There, by a large tree, were bushes of fresh blackberries glistening with dew.

  Picayune slid off his friend's back and looked at the hollow at the base of the tree. “I wonder if this is where they found her?”

  “Found who?” Swift-Hopper managed to say between mouthfuls of the berries that were smeared around his mouth.

  “Ameera. The baker said they found her in a place like this.”

  “Did he mention the berries?”

  “No, silly!” Picayune giggled at the condition of his friend's mouth. He mounted and patted Swift-Hopper's side. “All right, snack is over. Let's get back to the road.”

  The two traveled on for most of the morning until they came to a small covered bridge spanning a stream. Swift-Hopper crossed the wooden beams, his metal boots echoing in the passage. The kangaroo rat stopped on the other side and sniffed the air.

  Unsettled, Picayune wiggled in the saddle and the fur down his back stood on end. “What’s wrong?”

  “Quiet!” Swift-Hopper replied, turning right to follow the stream. He scampered a few hundred yards before continuing on a well-hidden trail farther into the woods. The trail opened to a pond, surrounded by giant boulders on all sides but the entrance.

  Picayune sniffed the air, too. He jumped down and let his nose guide him to an area where a tablecloth was spread out over the flat rocks. On a corner of the cloth were some shards of broken glass giving off a sweet, flowery scent. He immediately recognized it as one of the perfumes Ameera used, but before he could inspect it further, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He spun as something impacted his body and slammed him down on the rock, backwards. The force of the blow caused his head to hit the hard ground. Before he blacked out, he caught a glimpse a furry red figure towering over him. Then blackness overtook him.

  Chapter 5

  Picayune stirred as water was splashed on his face. He glanced to his left to see Swift-Hopper munching on a berry branch. His hand went to the back of his throbbing head. A face appeared mere inches in front of his eyes.

  “You okay, buddy? I didn't mean to pounce you so hard. Name's Phineas. Phineas Redtail at your service.” With that, the squirrel bowed, his enormous tail flopping over his head and nearly knocking off his hat.

  Picayune sat up and looked at stranger. He had a green tunic and green suede pants. He wore black leather boots that came up to his knees and black leather gloves that went half way down his arms. On his head, Phineas wore a fancy hat with a white feather that drooped behind his head. At his right side, the squirrel had a rapier that nearly touched the ground.

  Picayune moaned as he propped himself up on his hands. “Why did you attack me?”

  Phineas offered his hand to help Picayune up. “My friend, had I attacked you, I can assure you we wouldn't be having this conversation. It is merely my way of greeting a new friend.”

  Picayune took the offered hand and got to his feet, noticing immediately how tall Phineas was. “I'd really hate to see how you greet someone you hate.” He faced Swift-Hopper, whose face was covered with purple berry stains. “And where were you?”

  Swift-Hopper finished the last of his fruit. “Phineas explained what he was doing and gave me such a lovely snack that I didn't think he was here to hurt us.”

  Picayune couldn't help smiling looking at his mount. “All right, you clean up while I talk to our new friend.” He returned to Phineas. “What brings you out here?”

  Phineas stood up proudly at being called friend. “I could ask you the same, friend. I don't usually see many of Clan Dormouse venturing from their village. Lately though, I’ve seen quite a few of you heading into the hills.”

  Picayune jumped and moved closer to Phineas. “Have you seen a girl among them?”

  “Nay, my friend, I have not. Although, I did see a band of your kind early this morning travelling up the northern pass. I figured I'd come and talk to one of you to see what is bringing so many of you so far fro
m home.

  Picayune shuffled his feet back and forth on the ground. “We are on–well, they are on a mission to deal with Dragon.”

  Phineas raised an eyebrow at his new friend's choice of words. “And that is not the reason why you are here?”

  “I came to find my friend, Ameera. She was here recently and I want to make sure she is all right.”

  “Such a noble cause! You must allow me to help you on your quest to find your lady friend.”

  “I would welcome the aid and your company.” Picayune looked at his mount. “Sometimes Swift-Hopper is not the best conversationalist.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Swift-Hopper asked. His mouth was dripping wet from where he had dunked his head into the pond. Spots of the berry juice were still visible on his matted fur. Water dripped from his muzzle. When Picayune and Phineas looked at him, they burst out laughing. Swift-Hopper just huffed in annoyance, lumbering down the path.

  Picayune approached his friend. Drawing soap and a brush from his saddle bag, he gently cleaned his companion's face “There we go. Now you look handsome again.” He continued to brush his mount, which drew a sigh of contentment from Swift-Hopper.

  When he was done grooming Swift-Hopper, Picayune approached Phineas. “So, do you know the way?”

  “I wouldn't be much of a scout if I didn't know the way, would I?”

  “You’re a scout?”

  “Indeed I am. Before we leave, we should go talk to my aunt. She has mystic powers. She sees things. Maybe she could help.” Phineas darted down the path without waiting for a reply.

  Picayune jumped into Swift-Hopper's saddle and tried to keep up with Phineas. They followed the squirrel back to the path where the Redtail took to the trees. Jumping from branch to branch, Phineas led them through the forest, stopping often, not to rest, but to let his new friends catch up with him. After about thirty minutes, the trees opened into a clearing with a massive red oak in the center. As Picayune looked up, he could see traces of what appeared to be a small village nestled in the upper reaches of the tree.

  Phineas landed on the ground. “Well, don't wait for an invitation, come on up.”

  Picayune looked at Phineas and scratched Swift-Hopper on the side. “What about my friend?”

  Phineas darted up the tree, disappearing for a few minutes. When he returned, he had a basket of the same berries he had given Swift-Hopper before and a large bowl of water. “He will be fine. Come on, follow me.” He ran up the trunk a ways, before looking down and waiting for Picayune.

  Picayune gulped as he approached the redwood. He had climbed the trees around his home before, but they were nothing compared to the sheer size of the trunk ahead of him. He cautiously started to climb, not looking down. When Phineas, impatient, moved around him in circles, Picayune closed his eyes.

  “I-I-I don't think I can do this.”

  Phineas nodded. “Wait here.”

  Picayune dug his nails into the bark and waited. His fingers became wet with his nervousness, but he didn’t want to unlock his grip to wipe them. He kept his eyes shut until he heard his friend's voice again.

  “We’ve lowered a platform for you to sit on.”

  Picayune opened one eye to see the platform suspended by two ropes next to him. He grabbed the rope and spun around to sit down. His hands slipped until he entwined them in the rope. “I’m ready.” He closed his eyes again. After a short while, he felt the seat being pulled up into the branches of Phineas' home.

  Chapter 6

  Phineas stood still and seemed to notice the terror etched into Picayune's face. He coaxed Picayune from the seat. “It's safe now, you can look.”

  Opening his eyes, Picayune saw the stable platform, but still being cautious, he carefully put his feet on the platform before letting go of the rope. All around him, squirrels were busy doing chores. Some were cleaning, some were storing food, while others were patrolling the walkways. As he followed Phineas, he was amazed at the construction. He couldn't see the ground–the leaves below provided near-perfect cover–so his fears were eased by not knowing just how high he was in the tree. The various scents from the homes were making him drool. Everyone seemed to be cooking something different.

  Phineas walked to one of the houses and sat on a small bench outside. He removed his boots and washed his feet in a small basin that sat by the door. Picayune followed the squirrel’s action, putting his boots next to the bench. He washed his feet and wiped them on the welcome mat before entering.

  Phineas called out. “Aunt Sibyl, are you home?”

  As Picayune passed the doorway, he could smell a bounty of spices and herbs. Basket nets with flowers hung near every doorway. The two made their way through the home, arriving in a room with a large round table in the center. As they approached the table, a female squirrel entered from the other side.

  Sibyl spoke with a strong, mystical voice. “So you brought your guest safely, dear nephew. And did you take care of his companion?”

  Picayune didn't wait for Phineas to reply. “How do you know about him?”

  Phineas sat on a bench beside the outer wall. “Yes, Ma'am.”

  Sibyl held out her hands to Picayune. “Come, sit.”

  Picayune took her hand, entranced by her bright emerald eyes and warm smile. Her dress suited her light and airy voice. It was made of various shades of green, blue, and brown. Entwined in the fabric were shiny baubles. The dress enhanced her form, and she glided across the floor. He sat in the chair, not speaking, unable to take his eyes off of hers.

  Closing her eyes, she rocked her head back and forth. “Such a troubled mind for one so young.” She stared into his palms. “You are worried about her, are you not?”

  Blinking, Picayune opened one eye wider than the other. “H-h-how do you know that?”

  “I can see many things, young one. You have a long journey ahead of you.”

  He looked at his hand, trying to see what she saw. “Will I succeed?”

  “There are many paths ahead and I cannot see them all. If you look within yourself, you will find the answers you seek. Never doubt your own strength, and you will find it sufficient to your task.” Her charm comforted him. Reaching into the side of her dress, she removed a red gem. Even in the dimly lit room, the ruby gave off an entrancing glow. “Take this with you and promise me you will look after my nephew.”

  He peeked at Phineas. “I was hoping he'd protect me.”

  Sibyl chuckled loudly, and Picayune thought of his own mother. Sibyl had many of her qualities, including a wonderful sense of humor. “He tends to react first, and think later.”

  “Oh.” A grin crept across his face. From the little he already knew of Phineas, he thought it was a true statement. “I promise to watch out for him.”

  Sibyl beamed back at Picayune, leaning forward to kiss his nose. “Stay the night and leave at dawn's first light.”

  Picayune agreed, putting the bauble into a pouch on his belt before following the pair out the door. The sky–what was visible of it–had already changed from the bright blue it had been to vivid shades of orange and purple. He followed his friends to a large, circular platform. It reminded him of the round town center back home. In the middle of the platform was a smaller circle, raised above the floor like a stage. Picayune sat with his back against a rail and watched the bustle of activities.

  A young female squirrel, barely five or six, came over to him with a bowl of fruit and nuts. Her two front teeth were white as ivory and looked fully grown.

  The young girl giggled. “This is for you,” she said, before running off into the crowd. As he looked around, he saw that various squirrels, young and old, male and female, were busy making sure everyone had something to eat.

  Phineas whispered in his ear. “Swift-Hopper is going to get fat.”

  What?” Picayune whispered back, looking down into the blackness.

  “He is getting spoiled rotten by kids feeding him. They have never seen anyone like him up close
before. He is sleeping now and the guards are watching him, too.” Phineas sat next to his friend, and a food handler gave him a bowl, too.

  Two squirrels came out to the center of the stage and a hush fell over the crowd. The two squirrels were dressed in bright greens and yellows, and looked almost identical. They bowed and nodded to a female squirrel in the back. With a tin whistle pressed to her lips, she began to play whimsical music. Instantly, the duo leapt into action, one jumping over the other as they started to juggle acorns. Back and forth, they twisted and swiveled, jumping about. They moved higher and higher into the air, as if suspended on invisible wires. The faster the music played, the faster they moved until, suddenly, they collided with one another high in the air. The crowd shrieked as they began to fall, only to tumble out of it at the last second. Their bushy tails caught every object they had been juggling. They posed on opposite ends of the stage, each on one knee with his arms extended. Everyone erupted in applause and cheers. Even Picayune grinned at the performance.

  As quickly as the accolades had started, they diminished to the point where one could have heard an acorn drop. Several squirrels came out of their huts with musical instruments. Picayune strained to see the performers. The shadows obscured their faces, but he managed to pick out a tin flute, dulcimer, lyre, and a hang drum.

  From one of the unlit huts, a female squirrel in a full-length scarlet dress strolled out to center stage. She stared at Picayune with large, blue eyes. Her body stilled as she wrapped her large tail around her body and over her shoulders.

  The music started. Soft and slow, it produced images of the start of a new day in Picayune's mind. At the same time, the dancer started to sway and turn, matching the speed of the song. The melody gradually increased in tempo and the squirrel matched its pace, twisting and turning as her hands plucked imaginary things from the air. When the song reached its climax, she leapt from one side of the stage to the other until she landed on one foot, right in front of Picayune. She froze there as the music suddenly stopped and stood motionless for what seemed like an eternity. She winked at him. The music picked up again, slow and soft, and she performed a few backward handsprings back to the spot where she had started. She bowed and the music faded out.