Toby and the Secrets of the Tree

A second later, the night-school guard got up to check that everything was in order and the classroom was calm. He had just spent the last hour sitting against the classroom’s only door, so he stretched as he trod the few steps separating him from the window.

  Calm? Yes, the classroom was calm.

  Perfectly calm.

  So calm, in fact, that there was nobody in it.

  The guard didn’t move. He stared at the big empty room, without even noticing that he was munching his hat. He couldn’t believe it. Panic paralyzed his body: the only movement came from his chattering teeth and his eyes rolling in every direction.

  Several minutes and half a chewed hat later, he finally reacted. He opened the door, praying that by some miracle the thirty old students would be back in their places.

  But there wasn’t even a wisp of a white hair.

  Down in the tunnel, progress was very slow. Sim had sent Plok Tornett out in front, followed by Councillor Rolden. The professor was immediately behind them, because Maya had refused to go ahead of Sim. She’d been too frightened of losing her husband in the past, and now she never wanted to take her eyes off him again.

  The rest followed.

  Zef Clarac brought up the rear of this line of heroic old people, whose combined ages added up to two thousand years. But if you added up the collective experience crawling through that tunnel, you would never have room for all the different occasions, the laughter, the moments of anger or grief, the regrets and joys, the loves and blunders that had filled these individual lives.

  They were making their way on all fours, soundlessly. From time to time, Sim could hear Councillor Rolden breathing. The old man had clasped him for a long time before entering the tunnel.

  “I’d stopped believing in it,” Rolden had said. “Now anything is possible. Perhaps I’ll even enjoy a bit of freedom in my twilight years.”

  Sim had smiled at him.

  “When you get to one hundred, the counter goes back to zero. You’re the youngest among us.”

  But Sim felt worried every time he sensed old Rolden slowing down ahead of him. This time, the old man was trying to turn around to say something to Sim.

  “There’s something sliding down my back.”

  “It’s nothing,” said Sim. “Go on.”

  “I can’t,” Rolden answered. “The ceiling’s coming down on my back.”

  “Don’t worry,” the professor repeated. “Keep going, my friend. We have to keep going.”

  This had been Sim’s only concern since the start: making sure that Albert Rolden didn’t lose his mind. On the nights leading up to their escape, the councillor had experienced panic attacks in which he thought he was fighting off moths. Each time, Maya had sponged down his face with water and he’d eventually calmed down.

  Someone from the back of the line called out, “Can’t we go any farther?”

  “No,” whispered someone else. “They think Rolden might be losing his mind.”

  “Rolden never loses his mind!” exclaimed a furious Lou Tann.

  Out in front, Professor Lolness was insisting, “Just follow Plok Tornett — he’s right in front of you. . . . Trust me, old friend.”

  “I trust you completely,” said Rolden. “But I’ll say it again: I’ve got the ceiling on my back.”

  Maya was the first to notice.

  “Sim,” she whispered. “Why don’t you listen to what Albert’s telling you? Perhaps the ceiling really is falling on him.”

  In a flash, everything fit into place in Sim’s head. He realized exactly where they were. Albert Rolden hadn’t lost his mind — he was spot-on. A splintering noise broke the silence.

  “Get back!” roared Sim. “Everyone move back!”

  The professor grabbed Rolden by the feet and gave him a sharp tug. The tunnel collapsed ahead of them in a crash of broken floorboards.

  An oversize mass blocked the passage, a pink slug that writhed around on its back and roared. It was a nightmare. Sim was holding Rolden in his arms as Maya helped them to edge backward.

  “What about Plok?” Vigo Tornett called out. “Where did Plok Tornett go?”

  Sim didn’t have the strength to reply. In his arms, the councillor was making desperate whimpering noises: “I’m begging you . . . Pleeeease . . . Don’t tell me we’re going back there. . . . I can’t take it anymore. . . .”

  The slug, which was still writhing and wriggling around at the far end of the tunnel, was none other than Joe Mitch.

  Mitch had just walked across his lavatory floor.

  Responding to an urgent call of nature in the middle of his birthday celebration, he’d staggered to the cramped room with the fugitives’ tunnel running directly underneath it. He’d barely had time to undo his pants and stamp his boots when the floor had given way.

  A few months earlier, Zef Clarac and Lou Tann hadn’t done a very thorough repair job in replacing some missing slats from the wooden floor. And they’d immediately started digging in another direction, without realizing that this section of the tunnel was now vulnerable.

  When all the old prisoners emerged in single file through the classroom trapdoor, crestfallen and dusty-eared, there were fifty soldiers waiting for them.

  Sim and Albert Rolden appeared last. Maya noticed Sim’s inscrutable gaze. He would never be able to forgive himself for this failure. She wanted to take his hand, but the two of them were roughly separated.

  Joe Mitch was roaring as he came in, carried on a stretcher by eight exhausted men. Someone turned to him with a pale expression and said, “I’ve counted. . . . There’s one missing.”

  One of Joe Mitch’s eyes was closed because of a plank that had landed on him when he fell. He closed the other and bellowed with all his strength.

  “It’s Plok Tornett,” the guard specified.

  Mitch’s bellowing turned to a howl.

  “Ploooooook!”

  Razor and Torn entered quietly. They had come from the bottom of the Crater and looked pallid as the moon. Each was trying to hide behind the other, to get out of having to speak.

  “Er . . .” Razor managed in the end. “There’s a few more than one missing.”

  Joe Mitch stared at him with his huge bulging eye.

  “The Grass people have escaped. All . . . the . . . Grass people . . .”

  Torn showed a man in: Tiger was still recognizable beneath the big bandage that covered his head.

  “It’s Toby. . . .” said Tiger. “Toby Lolness has returned, and he’s led them all away.”

  Joe Mitch fell off his stretcher.

  Maya and Sim Lolness looked at each other. Toby’s name formed a bubble on Maya’s lips, which floated gently over to Sim, who received it with closed eyes.

  A little lower down in the Branches, Plok Tornett was running in the open air, through the moss forests. He was alone, disorientated, and in shock.

  But for the first time in a very long time, and despite being out of breath, he was talking.

  Toby and his Grass troop came to a stop after one day and two nights. They might have continued their brisk march if fog hadn’t descended in the middle of the second night. They huddled between the stalks of a lichen thicket.

  At last, the Grass inhabitants could sleep perched on high again, something they’d sorely missed in the Crater. They liked to feel the air circulating beneath them and their bodies swaying with the leaves.

  Toby managed to close his eyes for a few hours, before rising early and signaling to Mika.

  “I think I know where to find some food for these sleepyheads. Follow me.”

  Mika was trying to work out what time it was, through the thick mist.

  “Let’s take Liev with us,” he said.

  The three of them set out, with Liev walking behind Mika, holding on to his shoulder. The shadow cast by the lichen made for freezing conditions, and the snow was still holding out against these first few days of spring.

  Toby knew he wouldn’t be able to accompany the Grass people for lo
ng. He was just waiting for the right moment to set out in search of Elisha. As far as he knew, she was up in the Treetop, still in Leo Blue’s Nest. But first he wanted to lead his friends to a safe place; then he’d embark on his journey across the Tree alone.

  Sensing Liev let go of his arm, Mika had come to a standstill. Toby turned around at the same time. The fog was like a wall hemming them in.

  Liev had disappeared.

  Mika was moving frantically in every direction.

  “Liev!”

  He knew that calling out like that was pointless. The greatest danger his friend faced was getting lost. When you can’t see your way or hear anyone calling out, all it takes is a momentary lapse of concentration and you’re lost forever. Mika had already thought he’d lost Liev for good on one occasion. It had happened one evening in the Grass, but luckily Mika had found Liev sitting calmly in a muddy crevice.

  We won’t always be so lucky, he’d reflected at the time.

  Toby couldn’t understand what had happened. He was going around in circles, looking for Liev in the mist. Just then he spotted Mika being raised into the air, as if sucked up by a whirlwind. Toby threw himself at Mika, grabbing hold of his legs at the last moment. He was hauled off the ground as well but managed to snag both feet on a loop of moss that was firmly fixed to the bark. Their ascent came to a sharp halt.

  “They’re lifting me with a rope,” Mika called out. “It’s around my waist!”

  “Cut the rope!”

  Toby’s feet were still clinging to the moss, but he was close to losing his grip. Mika wasn’t having any luck cutting his makeshift belt. He looked up and saw a man shinnying down the rope. He just had time to see him wielding an ax and cutting the cable, before tumbling with him to the ground.

  Toby came crashing down at the same time, hitting his head on the bark. As he got back up again, he heard, “I’ve got him. Don’t worry.”

  Toby was ready for a bare-knuckle fight. He advanced through the dense mist toward Mika’s attacker.

  “What are you doing?” roared the man as Toby threw himself at him.

  Toby deliberately rolled to the side, having just recognized one of the Flying Woodcutters.

  “Shaine!” he called out.

  “We’ve been following you since this morning. I know these two Grass people are holding you prisoner.”

  “I’m not anybody’s prisoner! Let the man go!”

  “Torquo’s got the other one!” answered Shaine, who had no idea what was going on.

  “Let the man go, Shaine! He’s my friend.”

  Shaine couldn’t bring himself to release the young Grass person.

  “Let him go,” Toby repeated softly, with his hand on the woodcutter’s shoulder.

  Shaine released Mika, and Toby explained, “There’s no reason to be afraid of the Grass people. And it’s high time the whole Tree came to terms with this.”

  “Where’s Liev?” asked Mika.

  Toby looked questioningly at Shaine.

  “Torquo’s got him.”

  Mika grinned as he rubbed his rope-gouged arm.

  “I’d be surprised . . .”

  And sure enough, they found Liev waiting patiently at the top of the lichen stalk. He was sitting on top of Torquo, who was sighing underneath.

  It took a while to make Liev understand he could let Torquo go.

  Shaine and Torquo were staring at Toby and his two friends in fascination. They had never seen Grass people so close up.

  “Who are you really?” Shaine finally asked Toby.

  Toby stared back at him. Could he tell these two Flying Woodcutters the truth? He thought back to the long working weeks they’d spent together in the lichen forests. He also reminded himself how much he needed them, along with all the good-hearted people left in the Branches.

  “I am Toby Lolness.”

  If Toby had said he was the Queen Bee, Shaine and Torquo wouldn’t have been more surprised.

  Toby Lolness was a legend. And without realizing it, the Flying Woodcutters had spent the whole winter with the most famous fugitive of all time.

  They looked at each other in silence.

  “If they find out you’re here . . .” Torquo sighed.

  “Everyone thinks you’re dead,” said Shaine.

  “If Leo Blue knew . . .”

  “He won’t find out,” Toby interrupted them.

  Shaine frowned. “You should beware of him. People say he’s gone crazy since his bride-to-be escaped.”

  Toby felt the mist close in on him. “His . . .”

  “His fiancée,” Shaine repeated. “She escaped.”

  Toby remained silent for a long while and Mika watched. He was the only one to guess at the turmoil inside him.

  “I’m going to ask you something. An enormous favor,” Toby eventually said to the woodcutters. “Take these men to the place I direct you to. It’s a house deep in the woods where two families live. Tell them I sent you and that it’ll all be fine.”

  Shaine and Torquo exchanged looks. They trusted Toby, who proceeded to trace out on the bark the path that led to the house where the Olmechs and the Asseldors lived.

  “There aren’t any houses in that area,” said Torquo. “There’s just a forest that’s impossible to access.”

  “Trust me. There’s a house on exactly that spot.”

  Shaine shook his head.

  “Everybody knows there’s nothing in those woods.”

  “Well, stop repeating what everybody knows, and go and see for yourselves!”

  Toby gave a sign to Mika.

  “Mika, bring the others with you.”

  “The others?” queried a wide-eyed Shaine.

  “Yes,” Toby called out as he headed off. “I warned you it was an enormous favor.”

  “Toby!” shouted one of the woodcutters, who wanted to tell him about Nils Amen’s betrayal. “Toby, wait!”

  “Farewell!” cried Toby, and vanished.

  That same evening, Shaine approached the house in the woods by himself. He couldn’t believe that people lived in such inaccessible branches.

  Milo and Lex watched him get close. How had this stranger come so far?

  Shaine raised his hand in a friendly manner. The Asseldor sisters came out of the house, together with their mother and little Snow. Mrs. Asseldor feared bad news involving her son Mo, whom she believed was still in the hands of the soldiers stationed in the Low Branches.

  “I come on behalf of Toby Lolness.”

  Lila dropped the plate she was holding and ran over to him.

  “Where is he?” she cried. “Where’s Toby Lolness? I have to talk to him. . . .”

  “He’s gone.”

  “Where? Which way did he go?”

  Milo put his hand on her shoulder.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked Shaine.

  “I was going to ask you the same question.”

  Milo didn’t answer. Lex wiped his hands on his vest.

  “I worked as a Flying Woodcutter with Toby,” Shaine explained. “He’s asking you to look after his friends.”

  “His friends?”

  “They’re waiting a little lower down. I can call them.”

  Shaine looked at Lila, who was crying quietly. Mrs. Asseldor went over to give her a big hug.

  “Do you know all about the Nils Amen affair?” asked Milo.

  “Yes. He was collaborating with Leo Blue. He deserves his punishment.”

  Lila escaped from Mrs. Asseldor’s arms.

  “That’s not true!” she shouted. “I know it’s not true. And Toby’s the only one who can prove it. We have to find Toby Lolness. Nils will be killed for a crime he didn’t commit. He was never in league with Leo Blue.”

  Shaine felt moved by this young woman. He looked at her attentively and would have liked to help her.

  “Toby left this morning. He’s already got a day’s head start on us. It’d be impossible to catch up with him now; you know what he’s like. He can
head down between the branches faster than a snowflake.”

  Lola shared in her sister’s suffering. She hadn’t needed Lila to confide in her to realize that her sister loved Nils. The announcement of Nils Amen’s imprisonment by the woodcutters had brought this secret feeling out into the open.

  Lila wasn’t engaged to Nils — in fact, she hadn’t even declared her love for him — but she was drowning in a widow’s grief.

  Like her little sister years earlier, she collapsed with the anguish of it.

  “Who gave me daughters like these?” wondered Mr. Asseldor.

  “Me,” answered his wife, who was secretly the most romantic of them all.

  Shaine put two fingers between his teeth and whistled. He was answered by a far-off cry.

  Seeing the small crowd of Grass people approaching, Milo thought he must be hallucinating.

  “But . . . Who are these people?”

  “The friends I told you about.”

  “The . . . Are you crazy?” whispered Milo. “You think we can look after all —”

  “You’re the one who’s crazy, Milo,” boomed a deep voice from behind him. “Since when did an Asseldor ever refuse anyone hospitality?”

  Mr. Asseldor appeared, and Snow slid down the roof into her grandfather’s arms.

  “Tell them to go behind the house,” he added. “They can help us to build their camp.”

  Led by Torquo, the Grass people went around the back of the house in the woods. Shaine and Torquo slept in the attic that night, and for some of the time they could hear the sweet songs of the Grass people.

  “It’s true — they’re not the way I’d imagined them to be,” Torquo whispered to Shaine.

  “They’re good singers,” Shaine replied.

  The next day, just as the Flying Woodcutters were getting ready to leave the house, news broke that Lila had run off.

  “She’ll be back,” said Milo.

  But Lola knew her sister, and she was sure that Lila had set out in search of Toby. He alone could save Nils.

  Mr. Asseldor went to sit on a bark dike that protected the house from the rivulets of melted snow. Two of his children were out there, somewhere in the wilderness. . . . He felt overcome with a great weariness.