and chamber beneath. It is said that another must release her for her power to return and defeat her enemies, taking control once again of the land—and this time ruling forever.
“It is further said, as has been said for centuries, that there is one who is to come who is alone able to release the Queen and who must do so before the insurrectionists have destroyed both the land of Bairnmoor and your world, Elli, sending both into the nothingness from which they can never return. So you see, the world in which you now live is entirely dependent on the world of Bairnmoor for its own continued existence, so that it is not only the future of Bairnmoor that hangs in the balance.
“It has been assumed that this one who is to come to release the Queen will have special powers that will enable that one to accomplish the mission that can be accomplished by no other—if, indeed, it can be accomplished at all. How, even with the greatest of powers, the Queen can be released, is unknown and incomprehensible for me to imagine. Yet there is one—and one alone—who is able to attempt the mission.”
It was not clear whether Peterwinkle had concluded his story. He glanced up at Elli and said nothing further. “Peterwinkle,” Elli said, after a lengthy pause, “I don’t know why you are telling me this story. I don’t even know, with all due respect, sir, whether I believe it or not. All I want is the book of poetry by Adams, and if it does not exist, then I should be on my way, although I am very pleased to have met you,” said Elli, as she straightened her shirt for departure.
“Oh, Elli,” replied Peterwinkle softly, “all of this has very much to do with you.”
“I should be going now,” Elli said curtly as she rose from the chair.
“Elli,” Peterwinkle said, with a deep longing in his eyes, “the Queen is depending on you.” He paused, and then added, looking imploringly into her eyes, “Everyone is.”
Elli sat back down, ever so reluctantly, overwhelmed in both her mind and her heart, her thoughts and her emotions, and with an emerging credulity for the story from which she wanted to flee with her entire being.
“Elli,” said Peterwinkle, as if the statement to be made was simply indisputable, “you are the one chosen to attempt this—yes, this incomprehensible—endeavor, and I am the one chosen to tell you so.”
“But, Peterwinkle, even if any of this—even if all of this—is true, the part that is otherwise false is that this Elli Adams is but a girl of fourteen, and I have no special or great powers whatsoever. So, there is a mistake—and probably someone else who is to come after me—and I am deeply sorry to tell you that, for I see that you have already concluded that I am this one you’ve been waiting for.”
“No, there is no mistake, Elli. You alone are the one to whom this book is dedicated; and the mere fact that you profess to no powers only confirms the veracity of your place in this business. Elli, it is not that you have great powers, but that you will have great powers in the undertaking of this mission. And you are not to do this alone. Indeed, you cannot do this alone. You will have companions to assist you, both from your world and from Bairnmoor, and without whom you would not be able to accomplish what is set before you—if it can be accomplished at all,” Peterwinkle added quickly, as if forgetting an obligatory phrase.
“But, who are these companions you speak about, Mr. Peterwinkle, and why do you continue to say that the mission may not succeed?” Elli asked, a bit perturbed.
“How can anyone assure the accomplishment of anything in the future, Elli? All that one can control is what one does, not the results. But, without your efforts, there is no hope—for any of us.”
“But, I must know, Mr. Peterwinkle: who are these companions of which you speak? Are they great adults, and is it they who will provide the great powers?” Elli asked, insistently, as if to create the answer to her question.
“Oh, Bumblesticks, no, Elli! You will have no adults with you. Only children. For only children will be able to enter the kingdom now, and only children will be able to save it.”
“Then, who are these children you speak of?” Elli asked, now pressingly. “I have very few friends, Peterwinkle, and I can think of none who would want—or be able—to accompany me, even if they believed the story was true.”
“Elli,” Peterwinkle giggled kindly, and then said, as if ignoring her doubts, “it will be three other children whom you most would trust to be without guile, to be loyal to your mission, and to protect your heart. It would be those who would say nothing false, and who would say nothing true they thought would injure you, and who would do all they could against others, regardless of the circumstances, who would seek to hurt you in any way. And,” Peterwinkle added, with a sense of prescient knowing, “I suspect that you know already about whom I am speaking. Am I correct?”
Reticent to speak, for any of a number of reasons pressing upon her mind and emotions, Elli simply nodded and said quietly, “Yes, I believe I do.” Peterwinkle sat silently, fingers folded together on his lap, waiting to hear more.
“There is Beatríz, also my age, who was born in Chile and,” she added, looking firmly into Peterwinkle’s eyes, “who has been blind since birth. And there is Jamie, who is a year younger than I and who comes from a really bad home and spends most of his time alone, with no self-confidence whatsoever—and other kids know it, so they tease him mercilessly, calling him weak and scared and good for nothing.” Elli paused, manifesting an appearance of general incredulity. “And, and . . . then there is Alex. Alex has Down syndrome, and is three years older than I. He’s in the same grade, but he has the mental capacity of someone younger than I. I eat and spend recess at school with these three, but, other than a couple of us occasionally meeting at the library, none of us spends time with any of the others outside of school; it’s safer that way. Guys who pick on us would be more inclined to get rough with several of us than with just one, if you know what I mean.” Peterwinkle nodded affirmatively.
“All of us like each other, and I can’t imagine that any one of us would say anything unkind about the others. I’m certain of that, since each of us has been hurt lots of times by others, and we all know how awful it feels.” Elli paused, and then said, conclusively, “I know of no others, among children or adults, to whom I’d trust my heart.”
Peterwinkle nodded his head approvingly. “I think you should be going—and then returning as quickly as you are able with your friends, for time is of the essence. You may, of course, decline to return, Elli, and you will not see or hear from me again. And no one but you and I and your friends will know of this conversation, and no one in either world will think more or less of you. Life will return for you as it has been, but with one exception. In this moment you have the opportunity that few in any world have, which is to find out who you really are. And the same may be said, I suspect, concerning your friends.”
Elli shivered at Peterwinkle’s final words and said nothing further. Exhausted in mind and heart, she mulled over all that Peterwinkle had said. She left the room, glanced furtively toward the wide staircase descending into the darkness below, and then carefully made her way back up the stairs and out the door, keeping the key with her.
~two~
When Elli arrived home, she was surprised that so little time had passed since she had left for the library. She told her mother that the book was not available and that she was hoping to have several friends over for the evening, and would it be okay with her. She explained they would spend the night in her room and then go together to the library late on Sunday morning. Although surprised by the uncharacteristic request, Elli’s mother said it was okay as long as it was okay with her friends’ parents.
Elli
