We are proud to present Installment Six of a story most wondrous, where swans of blown glass guard a secret, a necklace of silver and blue holds a memory, and Apricity is discovered in a land of ice and snow.
All manner of adventure is coming, reader, and the fight for wonder promises to grow fierce.
This is the week! The first installment of Penelope Grace and the Winter Carousel publishes this Friday, December 11th! Here’s a sneak peek to tide you over until then.
Penelope Grace was a remarkable girl.
Of course, that word – remarkable – can mean many different things, depending on whom you ask.
Upon entering the Saris household, you would first be taken to the kitchen for a warm cup of tea to fight off the early winter’s chill. There, Nurse Sasha – who oversaw everything – would happily offer you her opinion. She could hardly find it less than remarkable that a girl of sixteen could behave so like her nine-year-old brother as to be nearly indistinguishable.
Once welcomed and enlightened, you might continue to the living room and find a comfortable chair near Penelope’s mother, Mary, who is patiently mending the latest torn and dirt-stained dress. She would share with you how her daughter is remarkably and admirably unconcerned with what others think of her.
Over the years, her friends marveled to find that Penelope was just as likely to pick up an imaginary sword as an intricate piece of embroidery. Growing serious now, Mary would tell you of the many encouragements she has received to rein her daughter in.
But it is too rare a gift to see a child’s spirit endure into adulthood. As Penelope’s mother, she would ask, how could she do less than safeguard it?
But just then, young George would come bursting in, his great-uncle Alex not far behind, and insist on knowing what your conversation was about.
“Well, George,” Mary would ask with the warmest of smiles, “what do you think makes your sister remarkable?”
He would think hard about it for a minute or two but, his nose crinkling up as he grinned, would soon reply with a firm, “Two things.”
And then, leaning forward as if to share with you a very great secret, George would tell you a story. Just last week, Penelope had, remarkably, succeeded both in assembling an entire regiment of nutcracker soldiers in the foyer and in vanishing from sight before Nurse Sasha could certainly accuse her of having done it.
“And the second,” you would ask, sincerely eager to know.
“She is the only grown-up who isn’t only teasing me when she says she still believes in Father Christmas.”
Equally impressed by both these reasons, you might then turn to great-uncle Alex, whom you would find no less willing to join in the conversation.
He would have to say that Penelope was remarkable for her persistent delight in all things simple, yet extraordinary. Even now she remains as enchanted with his magic tricks as she was on the day he first arrived from Greece to share them with her.
But of all her family, acquaintances and friends, only her father, John – who has been listening by the crackling fire all the while – could tell you with absolute certainty what it was that made Penelope Grace genuinely remarkable:
To read more, subscribe below! For $3.99/month, you’ll receive a new installment each week, along with a special illustration to accompany the story and the chance to win an exciting gift in the coming weeks! See you Friday 🙂
Welcome to the eleventh installment of Chip and the Book of Rose Leaves. Chip’s journey through the land of Almea is almost at and end. I hope that, just as Chip does, you enjoy every moment you spend there.
He heard the sound of intent muttering and the echo of clinking glass just as he entered the unusual room, but it was the smell that had captivated Chip long before he found it. Never before had he encountered such a pleasing aroma, and he followed it eagerly to its source.
Briefly, Chip wondered if the smell might be like the false scent in the first cavern, which had nearly sent him and Alfeus down an even more dangerous path.
But no. That smell, while pleasant on the surface, had warned of rot beneath. What Chip was joyfully breathing in now was so purely fragrant that he instinctively trusted it would not lead him astray.
He had never supposed, however, that it would bring him to a sight unlike any he had ever seen. If Romulus hadn’t shared so much of the human world with him, Chip would not have had the words for what he was seeing.
An enormous funnel filled the far end of the room, and Chip watched in fascination as diamonds tumbled into it. Strangely, there was no clattering sound of jewel against metal. Chip would have found that odd if he’d had the time, but before he could blink, a fragrant dust poured out from the funnel, swirling into glittering clouds even as it began to shimmer and become liquid, before falling into a large glass bottle.
Just as it reached the bottle’s brim, the smell in the room – already incredible – became something even more wonderful, all fresh-blooming flowers and the warmth of rich spice.
Chip didn’t think he would ever be able to properly describe it, yet knew, in the same instant, that he would never forget it.
It was then that he noticed the other myriad bottles, of all shapes and sizes, covering the cavern floor. Some were empty, others full to the brim, but all reflected the brilliant light of the wonderful perfume they each contained, which seemed to produce a light of its own.
Chip leaned close to the nearest bottle, the curiosity of the liquid inside impossible to ignore. As he watched, the soft swirls of diamond dust rose and fell in the bottle, catching the light and reflecting it back to Chip’s wondering eyes.
After a few moments more of looking into the bottle, Chip turned away, hoping to learn something more by exploring the rest of the room.
He made his way through the many bottles, more than he could ever hope to count. Save for the soft splash of the mysterious perfume falling from the funnel, silence reigned in the room.
It was, of course, just as Chip thought to himself that the silence shouldn’t be disturbed that he bumped into the nearest bottle, sending a mighty clamor echoing through the cavern.
He froze, so still you’d have thought him a statue, and waited for someone – or something – to respond to the ruckus he’d caused.
Not even a whisper of movement reached Chip’s ears.
Nevertheless, he stayed where he was for what felt like the longest minutes of his life.
At last, when it seemed safe to assume that no one was coming, Chip began to weave his way through the maze of bottles once more. He travelled only a short distance before he came across a feather. It lay before him, plain for him to see, yet Chip could not fathom it.
What was a feather doing underground, he wondered.
Another one lay not far off, and Chip hopped towards it with great purpose, determined to solve at least one of the mysteries facing him today.
But the trail seemed to end at the second feather, which was in front of a very large bottle. Chip looked about from where he stood, but could catch no sight of a third.
Disappointed, he sighed, turned his attention to the bottle’s contents, and was horrified to find one enormous eye staring back at him.
With a great shout, Chip scrambled back, falling into a group of empty bottles and sending them clattering all over the cavern floor.
Over the noise, he heard a flustered voice cry, “Now, do be careful! You’re bound to break something!”
But Chip was so startled, he could not listen. Before he could comprehend what was happening or how to escape this new menace, he raced away, only to collide with the owner of the great eye. He looked up dazedly as two fresh feathers fell to the ground.
A large bird – a magpie, he believed – stood before Chip. After the disturbance he’d caused, he expected to find a gruff and decidedly disgruntled figure standing before him.
Instead, Chip was surprised to find nothing but tenderness, and, perhaps, a touch of sympathy, in the bird’s black eyes. Relief swept through him, and he stood up, though still a little tentatively.
“I’m afraid I gave you quite a fright,” said the bird. “As a Guardian, I can never be too careful. We get all sorts through the underground, and not all sorts are friendly. Now, for some proper introductions,” he continued. “I am called Oleander. What is your name, young one?”
“Chip,” he answered quietly, a bit in awe of the impressive figure before him.
“Quite right,” Oleander answered with a smile, gently brushing a wing tip against Chip’s left ear.
Without another word, Oleander began to lead the way through the cavern, and Chip followed expectantly, hoping that this new friend could help him on his way, and maybe even help him find his friends.
As they walked, Chip surreptitiously observed the large bird. Now that he looked more closely, he could see that the bird’s feathers were not only black and white, but were also covered in many shimmering shades of blue, which reflected the light in the cavern beautifully.
Briefly, Chip thought with a touch of trepidation that he was in the presence of a magpie, a bird that he had always been warned might attack him. It seemed unlikely that a bird of prey could be a gentle Guardian. But Chip supposed that it also seemed unlikely that a small creature like himself could take on a journey so great.
All things considered, Chip believed that Oleander was trustworthy, and so, he continued to follow him through the cavern.
But not, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, without asking a few questions.
“What are you doing underground, Oleander?”
“Whatever do you mean?” the magpie answered, looking quite confused.
“Well,” said Chip, wondering how best to phrase this, “you’re a bird. Shouldn’t you be living up above?”
Oleander gave him an appraising look, and then, apparently deciding that Chip was worthy of his confidence, continued. “Quite right. That is the usual way of things. But I was chosen for this Guardianship, and so, I call the underground my home. I do venture out from time to time, but there are no sights above that seem so fair to my eyes as these glittering caverns. More brilliant than stars,” he murmured, half to himself.
Still, Chip was confused. “But what exactly do you guard?”
Oleander only smiled and continued on. “What brings you here, Chip?”
Momentarily distracted by the question, Chip launched into his tale. “I lost my friends, Alfeus and Beauregard. A moth was leading us through the tunnels, but Alfeus got stuck, and when Beauregard tried to help him get loose, a great hole opened up and they fell. I was going to follow them, but the hole closed before I could, and everything went dark, and… I’m lost.”
Chip paused for a moment. “Have you seen them?” he asked hopefully.
A kindly smile warmed Oleander’s black eyes. “Never you mind about that. Alfeus and Beauregard will be along soon enough.”
“Then you know where they are? Can you take me to them?”
“One thing at a time, my friend,” Oleander said, chuckling. “You still haven’t answered my question. What brings you here?”
Chip frowned. “But I’ve just told you. I’m looking for my friends.”
At this, Oleander stopped and looked closely at Chip. “You and I both know that you’re looking for a great deal more than that.”
Realization dawned. “Oh. Yes. Abaline. You see –“
“Ah, ah,” Oleander interrupted. “I understand.”
He looked as if he meant to say something more, but then thought better of it.
They were at the opposite end of the cavern now, just past the last of the sparkling bottles. Chip could still smell the wondrous perfume. He was just opening his mouth to ask about the diamonds that seemed to produce it when a familiar sound reached his ears. It drifted towards Chip and Oleander from the tunnel just in front of them.
“It is decided, Beauregard! You are the most exasperating creature I will ever have the misfortune of knowing. ‘Follow your nose,’ indeed! How is that supposed to get us any closer to Chip?”
At that moment, the disgruntled chipmunk and his cheerful companion emerged from the tunnel.
Alfeus stopped short. “Chip!” he cried in shock.
Beauregard, to the chipmunk’s immediate annoyance, did not look the least bit surprised.
“You are an unapologetic show off,” Alfeus declared. Then, after a pause, “I’m sorry I doubted you.”
There was then much embracing as the friends celebrated being reunited. After a few minutes, though, Alfeus looked across the expansive cavern in wonder. “What on earth is this place?”
They all turned to Oleander, who only gestured to a tunnel that lay to their right. “There is no time to waste, my friends. Abaline is waiting.”
Without another word, the magpie led them partway down the tunnel before stopping. “Continue to follow this tunnel, and you will shortly be aboveground. No further surprises shall trouble you.”
Chip wanted to stall and keep talking to Oleander, but Alfeus and Beauregard were already moving, all too eager to leave the underground.
Oleander, seeing Chip’s hesitation, smiled and urged him on. “Farewell, young one. Safe travels on the end of your journey.”
And with that, he was gone, back to his bottles and diamonds and all the mystery they contained. Chip stood there for a moment, wondering.
There was so much he didn’t understand about the cavern below and all he had seen there. Briefly, he felt all his usual restless curiosity stir up. But then, all of a sudden, that sweetest of perfumes wafted over him, and he felt all his wonderings, for a time, rest.
There really was so much he didn’t understand.
Perhaps, he wasn’t meant to just yet.
Installment Twelve will be available next week, friends!
Writing this installment was one of my greatest joys. I hope you enjoy it!
Chip was dreaming.
He was in a dark place, deep within the earth. All the shadows in the world seemed intent on suffocating him. He looked around, anxiously trying to catch sight of Alfeus or Beauregard, but the darkness was all-encompassing.
Chip shivered from the damp and the cold, shivered from how very alone he felt.
But then, a clink sounded behind him, the twinge in his left ear faded away, and Chip turned.
Barely a foot away, a diamond was laying on the cool rock, shimmering as if in defiance of the dark.
Chip huddled close to the jewel, comforted by its cool light, but no sooner had he nestled against it than the light began to fade.
The twinge in his left ear returned in full force as his paws scrambled clumsily to keep hold of the diamond. So frantic were his movements, though, that the now dimly glowing jewel skittered across the rock floor.
Its light much too faint by now to allow the rabbit to find it once again, Chip just sat there, watching the diamond’s radiance succumb to the dark, never thinking to simply ask the light to stay.
He woke with a start, unsettled and discouraged by the dream. Chip saw no reason to dampen the others’ spirits, though, so he kept the dream to himself.
They had stopped to rest underground, Chip and Alfeus feeling spent after their many adventures, and Beauregard always agreeable to a nap. The moth rested nearby, but Chip could see its pale wings fluttering softly, as if it were eager for them to be on their way.
Much like the underground path they had visited not long ago, the walls of this tunnel were encrusted with jewels of various kinds, though not as many as he’d found in the fire lizards’ dwelling.
He shuddered, hoping that none of the lizards’ tunnels connected to this one. Ready for adventure as he was, Chip wasn’t sure he could bear another encounter with the fiery creatures.
Shaking loose any lingering thoughts of the lizards, the young rabbit returned to looking around the tunnel, and he wondered again at the presence of the jewels.
What were they doing here?
But a loud snort from the waking Beauregard woke Alfeus with a start, sent the moth flying, and put a stop to all Chip’s wonderings.
Distracted by the excitement of continuing on their way to Abaline, the many jewels became, for the time being, nothing more than brilliant sparks of light in the darkness.
But I believe, and I think you do, too, that they’re something a little bit more.
It wasn’t long before matters took an unexpected turn. The further the small group of adventurers travelled, the more they realized that this part of the underground was quite unlike any other.
Near the underground river, it had been abundantly clear that the fire lizards ruled; no other creatures dared to make their homes in those tunnels and caves.
Here, however, just the opposite was true. Small glow worms made their meandering way across the rocks in search of cool earth to sink into. Toads hopped along the slick stone paths, seemingly oblivious to Chip and his companions, before disappearing beneath lily pads that covered the small pools they called home.
Fluttering about Chip’s ears almost playfully were insects with the most intricately designed wings he had ever seen. They moved so swiftly, though, that after only the one clear sight of them, they seemed to disappear, and the only thing that betrayed their graceful flight was the pale luminescence of their wings.
Chip breathed in and out slowly, savoring the richness of the air. Moss and lichen covered the ground until only small patches of bare rock could be seen, and it gave the tunnel an earthy smell that Chip loved.
He looked all around in wonder as countless creatures hopped and flew past jewel-encrusted walls, water softly splashed, and the tunnel filled with the sounds and smells of it all. This felt like a wonderfully secret place, and our small rabbit friend felt entirely content to remain there.
They all remained quiet through this part of their journey, unwilling to interrupt the peacefulness of this place.
That is, of course, until Alfeus’ paw became hopelessly stuck in a thick patch of moss.
“Now, now, Alfy, stay still,” Beauregard said.
The chipmunk gave him a long-suffering look. “There is nothing but mud beneath my foot. If I stay still, Beauregard, I shall sink into the mire and be lost forever.”
Chip chuckled, earning himself a withering stare.
“You always did have a touch of the dramatic in you, Alfeus,” the beaver replied with a fond look that was not returned. “Now, stay still and hand me your paw.”
“Do you listen to yourself?” was the exasperated answer. “How one is supposed to stay still and move at the same time, I would very much like to know!”
All the same, Alfeus held out his paw.
It seemed to all that the amusing incident would end right there, until, when Beauregard gave Alfeus’ paw a good tug, the chipmunk did not budge.
A hint of panic crept into Alfeus’ voice. “Put a little more effort into it, Beauregard! I do not wish to become a part of the scenery.”
“I’m sure one more tug ought to do it, Alfy, never you fear.”
Alas, one more tug did not do it, and before Alfeus could protest (as he surely would have), Beauregard wrapped him in a giant bear hug. With a great heave, the beaver tried to free his friend. Just as he did, though, an ominous rumble filled the tunnel, and as all the small creatures nearby scurried away, the ground beneath them crumbled, and Beauregard and Alfeus disappeared from sight.
“Alfeus! Beauregard!” Chip cried, truly frightened now. Quick as he could, he hopped to the edge of the gaping hole his friends had fallen into.
He was just about to jump in after them, heedless of the danger, when the great rumble filled the space once more and the rock shifted back into place. In seconds, the tunnel’s floor was whole once more and the moss was creeping back over the rock, as if the giant hole had never been.
Chip stared in disbelief, unwilling to believe that his friends were gone and the most obvious path back to them was barred. But just then, a deep boom set the tunnel shaking and rocks clattering.
Chip didn’t think.
He just ran, heedless of the direction he took through the branching tunnels and the sudden darkness surrounding him.
When next he stopped, heart racing, body shaking, Chip knew he was lost. Still, he was poised to flee at the slightest sound, and when it came, he bolted.
Down the nearest tunnel he flew, never considering the dank, musty smell stealing away the good, clean air.
Looming shapes rose suddenly all around him. Chip gasped in surprise, veering away from one only to nearly collide with another.
Whichever way he turned, it made no difference. He was hemmed in on all sides, and, at long last, Chip stopped short, heart pounding more powerfully than he had thought it capable of.
Thick darkness still surrounded him. So frightened he could hardly move, Chip curled himself into a ball. He closed his eyes, his whole body aching for fear and the longing to not be alone.
A few moments passed before Chip noticed the light.
Tentatively, he opened his eyes and saw that, though still a good distance off, something was illuminating the tunnel. He rose slowly. Fear still clamored for his attention, but the rabbit felt its hold shaking loose. He could see now the strange, looming forms that had frightened him so.
Countless toadstools of all shapes, sizes, and varieties filled the tunnel. Chip stared up in awe at the tangled forest surrounding him, some of the toadstools rising close to the tunnel’s ceiling, others remaining near to the ground, but all of them impossibly vibrant.
He was as entranced by this underground wonder as he had been by the vivid wildflowers in the forest clearing. This, however, was a sight all its own. Whether it was deepest green, richest purple, or impossibly bold red, color was everywhere, and all the while, the light led him on, lending a brilliance to everything it touched.
Yet, when he reached its source, it wasn’t at all what Chip expected.
A solitary diamond lay on the rock just as it had in his dream, only this time, there was no sign of the light fading. The jewel lay at the entrance of a new tunnel, which branched to the left and down. If it led deeper underground, Chip thought, perhaps he would find Alfeus and Beauregard. He could see specks of light further down the path, and he suspected that they came from more jewels.
With no further hesitation, Chip continued on, no longer afraid, for, though he had not consciously thought it, some piece of him understood that when fear had kept him from speaking, his desperate need had been a prayer, and it had been heard.
It’s been a little while, friends! I’m excited to get back in the swing of things, sharing stories and bookish love with you all.
Without further ado, here is the next installment of our favorite rabbit’s adventures!
“I might have known!”
“Now, Alfy,” Beauregard said, sidling as close as he dared to the chipmunk, “don’t be like that. You know I never meant to lose your hazelnuts, and I certainly never meant for you to be near drowned in an underground river. Why, I didn’t even know you’d be there!”
Of course, you already know, reader, that the only word Alfeus really heard was hazelnuts.
“Of course not!” he cried. “You never mean anything, and yet it happens! Chaos ensues! Whole stores of hazelnuts lost! All because of those rascally, conniving, miscreant rabbits of yours! And you, Beauregard Beaver, do nothing but encourage them!”
“Now, Alfy,” Beauregard protested once more. “Conniving seems a bit severe. Mischievous, perhaps. And as for that particular mishap, it was awfully funny,” the beaver concluded with a barely concealed laugh.
Alfeus’ paws clenched tightly at his sides as if he were willing the steam to stay firmly between his ears.
Chip, unable to help himself, giggled and asked, “What happened, Beauregard?”
The beaver had hoped a certain inquisitive rabbit might ask, and swift as a river, he launched into the tale. “Well, you see, it was like this –“
“Not another word, Beauregard!” Alfeus declared.
Beauregard smiled, giving Chip a conspiratorial wink. “If you insist, Alfeus. But looky here! I see I’m not the only one who’s taken up with rabbits.”
Alfeus huffed. “Chip is nothing like those ruffians, thank you!”
Chip interjected before more bickering could ensue. “I’m on a quest,” he blurted, feeling just a bit silly for how grand he made it sound.
But Beauregard didn’t blink an eye. “A quest!” he boomed. “Tell me more, Chip!”
“Well,” Chip continued, feeling suddenly shy, “I prayed for something a while ago, and now I keep wondering if the questions we ask and the prayers we say really matter to Him at all.”
Beauregard’s eyes fairly sparkled at Chip’s words. “You’re looking for Abaline, I take it?”
“Yes!” Chip cried, wondering how Beauregard had known. “Alfeus said we must go behind the waterfall and through the cavern, but when we tried, well… I mean no offense, but your friends brought a dragon –“
“The Cerulean Drake, no less!” Alfeus pointed out.
“Yes,” Chip continued, “and her fire woke the most enormous lizard I’ve ever seen, and you rescued us, and, well… we lost our way.”
As he shared this, Chip couldn’t help but feel discouraged by the unexpected, albeit adventurous, turn of events, but Beauregard only chuckled.
“I don’t know how to tell you this, my boy, but you never found your way to begin with!”
“Never found it? What do you mean?”
“Well, if you ever hope to find Abaline, you have to take the back entrance, of course.”
“The back entrance?” Alfeus sputtered in disbelief. “Do explain yourself, you exasperating creature!”
Beauregard’s eyes twinkled in such a way that made Chip quite certain that teasing Alfeus was one of the beaver’s greatest delights. Still, he did agree to explain himself. “Try as you might, careful as you are, if you go in the front entrance, you’re bound to disturb the lizards. Whereas the back entrance avoids them altogether!”
Beauregard beamed at his flabbergasted companions. “Shall I show you the way?”
Shocked and silent, both Chip and Alfeus followed the beaver as he moseyed down the riverbank, each of them trying equally hard not to think about the underwater debacle they could have avoided if only they’d known. Alfeus was, perhaps, a bit more prickly about the whole affair, seeing as he had been so utterly confident of the way to Abaline.
Beauregard’s cheerful conversation soon distracted them from all their bemoaning and befuddlement, however, and they began to really enjoy the sunshine and breeze, and yes, even the rushing of the river to their left.
“You see,” the beaver was saying, “living by the water gives me plenty of opportunity to become acquainted with all manner of adventurers and the like. More often than not, those in search of Abaline know no better than to take the waterfall path, and they soon end up in the same state as you.
“So, I’ve taken to making my way up and down the river – a bit like a proper Guardian, you might say – so I can help any unfortunates who end up on the unfriendly side of the Obsidian Lizard. When I heard what the young rabbits were up to plotting, I decided it might be the perfect time to be close by.
“Of course, I was only expecting them, but that Frederick made sure to tell me more were on the way. I shudder to think what might have happened if a certain beaver hadn’t been there to pull two forlorn, fellow creatures out of the river,” Beauregard said wistfully, casting a sidelong glance at Alfeus, who did not fail to notice.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure we’re very grateful!”
“I’m very glad to hear that, Alfy. And what with all this gratitude we’re all feeling, it only seems right that you might forgive me for all those lost hazelnuts.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake. Yes, Beauregard, all is forgiven. Are we nearly there?”
“Not much farther now,” the beaver answered, looking decidedly chipper.
“Well, before we get there, I’d like to know more about those four rabbits and that dragon,” Chip said.
“Ah, yes, the Cerulean Drake,” Beauregard said in very sage tones. “She’s usually much friendlier, but she’s just laid her eggs, you see, and she’s fiercely protective of her babes, especially at this early stage.”
“Don’t tell me they went near the grotto!” Alfeus fairly squeaked.
Even Beauregard, supportive as he was of the rabbits’ mischief, looked a bit abashed at this. “I’m afraid so.”
Seeing Chip’s look of admiring wonderment, though, the beaver instantly brightened. “They meant the babies no harm, you understand! They only wanted a look at the eggs. Sightings of a Cerulean Drake’s eggs are precious and rare. Only the very brave and determined can find them, and if there’s anything that those four rabbits are – Roger, Roderick, Eloise, and Fred are their names – it’s brave and determined.”
“Wow,” was all Chip could manage, and though the rabbits’ adventure had certainly affected his own, he couldn’t help but be a bit in awe of them.
Alfeus caught the look and pleaded, “Now, please, Chip, don’t go getting any ideas.”
“Seeing as he’s gotten this far, Alfy, I’d guess that our friend Chip has already had plenty of ideas. And he’ll need a few more if he’s to make it to Abaline. And speaking of!”
At this, the beaver gestured forward where a dark tunnel entrance could just barely be seen beneath a mass of trailing vines and leaves, some a rich green, some deepest purple. And resting ever so gently on these leafy tangles were perhaps two dozen moths, all nectar and peach and beige in hue.
As the companions came closer, the moths all began to stir and flutter about.
In moments, one moth in particular was flying carefully before each of them.
“Now, no sudden movements, mind,” Beauregard said. “This moth will lead us on our way, but they only help the very gentle at heart. Don’t trouble yourself too much, Alfy,” the beaver continued as the moth came to rest on the chipmunk’s nose. “I’m sure they’ll make an exception just this once.”
It was all Alfeus could do to keep still while the moth judged his merit.
You’ll be proud to know that he chose to ignore that particular comment.
Apparently satisfied, the small, winged creature flew towards the tunnel entrance, slipping behind the vines. Quickly now, before they lost their guide, Chip, Alfeus, and Beauregard followed, braving the underground once more.
Any guesses on what waits in the underground?
And if you’d like to read past installments, just click here.