Read The Song of the Winns Online

Authors: Frances Watts

The Song of the Winns (9 page)

She sounded so happy that for a moment Alistair felt happy too: they might be tired, hungry, and lost in a blizzard somewhere in the Crankens, but at least they were safe—for now.

6

The Sourian Orphans

Y
ou can't be serious,” Ebenezer said.

Tobias looked grave. “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he said. “In the current climate it's become almost impossible to infiltrate the palace. The Sourians have grown increasingly strict about security—which is one more reason why we believe they're up to something. But they'll be less likely to suspect children of being spies. That's where Alex and Alice come in.”

“I don't know,” said Ebenezer doubtfully.

Alice, who had kept quiet until now, spoke up for the first time. “Do you really think we would be useful?” she asked Tobias.

The marmalade mouse gazed at her steadily. “Your presence in the palace would be invaluable,” he said. “We have had serious problems with intelligence-gathering since the Sourians tightened security. This could be
our one chance to slip beneath the radar.” He looked at Ebenezer. “Believe me,” he said, “if there was another option, we'd take it. And I would never even have contemplated the idea if the stakes weren't so high.”

“If it's that important,” Alice said, turning to meet the eyes first of her brother, then of her aunt and uncle, “I say we should do it.” Even as she said the words, she felt a tremor of fear in the pit of her stomach, but she tried to keep her expression businesslike and determined. Alex, too, looked uncommonly solemn.

Uncle Ebenezer swallowed once, then said in a pained but resigned voice, “I can see I'm outnumbered here. But please”—he fixed Tobias with an appealing look—“please do everything you can to keep them safe.”

“I will,” Tobias promised. “Now, while I've got you two here,” he said, turning his attention to Beezer and Ebenezer, “I'd like to discuss your own assignments.” He rifled through his stack of folders once more. “Beezer,” he said, consulting one, “you're a math professor, as I recall.”

“That's right,” said Beezer.

“Excellent. I'm hoping you might agree to become one of our codebreakers. We haven't put much effort into codebreaking to date, but we're putting together a team under the leadership of Celestine.”

“Celestine is here? I'd be honored to work with her!” Beezer exclaimed. “She's a professor of logic at the University of Grouch, in Souris,” she explained to Alice and Alex. “Her work is amazing.”

“Good,” said Tobias with a satisfied nod. “In that
case, please report to room 3A tomorrow at nine a.m. Ebenezer . . .” The marmalade mouse pulled a third file from the stack. “Ah yes. Serena, who's been in charge of the kitchen for the last few weeks, has to return to her restaurant in Shudders. I remember that you trained as a chef. Would you take over from Serena?”

“Of course,” Ebenezer replied.

“Excellent,” said Tobias. “That's settled then.” He raised his voice to call, “Flanagan?”

The dark gray mouse opened the door so promptly that Alice suspected he must have been standing with his ear pressed to it.

“Ah, Flanagan. Can you tell Solomon Honker to report to room 2B in ten minutes? He'll know what it's about.” Tobias turned back to the four mice in front of him. “Alice and Alex, Solomon is in charge of your mission. And to begin with, he is going to help you to construct your new identities. You're to meet him in room 2B in ten minutes sharp. Anymore questions?”

Alice had a hundred, and she suspected the others did too, but Tobias looked so harried that she held her tongue.

When no one spoke up, Tobias inclined his head. “Good luck with your assignments then.” His eyes dropped to the list in front of him. “Right, who's next . . . Skinny Jim. Flanagan, once you've spoken to Solomon go find Skinny Jim for me, would you?”

The dark gray mouse hurried from the room and Tobias began to flick through a new batch of files, making notes on a pad beside him.

Ebenezer, Beezer, Alex, and Alice quickly and quietly left the room.

“Phew,” said Ebenezer. “I wouldn't like Tobias's job.” Then he looked at Alex and Alice worriedly. “And I wouldn't want your job either: spying on the Sourians in their own headquarters in Gerander! Are you quite sure you want to do this? No one would blame you if you changed your minds.”

“We're sure,” Alice said, more bravely than she felt. “You heard what Tobias said: it might be the only way to find out what the Sourians are up to.”

“I suppose I should get started on my own job,” Ebenzer said. “I'd better go introduce myself to Serena and find out when she's leaving. I just hope I can rise to the challenge. It's a long time since I've cooked professionally.”

“You'll be great, Uncle Ebenezer,” said Alex loyally. “You're the best cook ever.”

They accompanied Ebenezer to the cafeteria, where he disappeared into the kitchen.

“So Alistair and Tibby Rose did go on a mission,” Alice said. “I wonder where?”

“I bet Oswald took them somewhere,” said her brother. Alice knew he was envious of the fact that his less-adventurous brother had flown twice, while he had never left the ground.

“Aunt Beezer,” said Alice, remembering a question that had occurred to her during their meeting with the marmalade mouse, “what happened to Tobias's wife?”

Beezer let out a heavy sigh. “Yes, I'd forgotten about
that; I think Ebenezer had too. Marina was a doctor, and a few years ago—not long after your parents, in fact—she crossed the border into Gerander on a mission to assess the medical and health-care situation. There'd been reports that Gerandans were barred from hospitals. She was discovered by the Queen's Guards and sent to Atticus Island. She died there.”

Alice smothered her gasp as Alex asked, “What did she die of ?”

Beezer shrugged. “Cold, hunger, disease . . . take your pick. It could have been any one of them.”

“But Mom and Dad . . . ,” Alice began.

“Have survived this long,” Beezer said firmly. “Now you two had better hurry along. You don't want to be late for your first lesson.”

“Lesson?” said Alex, following Alice out through the double doors at the back of the cafeteria. “What did she mean by ‘lesson'?”

“I don't know,” Alice shrugged. “I suppose we have to learn how to be undercover agents.”

“We'll probably have lessons in self-defense,” Alex said, striking a karate pose.

“Maybe,” said Alice vaguely. She looked around at the other buildings grouped around the large green oval. “I think that's the library over there,” she said, pointing to a large, low building to her left, “and block 1, next to the hall, is the dorm, so those buildings to the right must be blocks 2 and 3.” She set off across the oval toward the two-story brick buildings on the far side.

“And I bet we'll learn the art of disguise,” said Alex. “I could have a limp.” He began to drag his right leg behind him.

“That would rule out any quick getaways,” said Alice over her shoulder. “Hurry up.”

“True,” said Alex. “Perhaps we could wear mustaches.”

Alice looked at him incredulously. “I'm a girl, Alex. Why would I wear a mustache?”

“It was just an idea,” Alex said defensively.

“A stupid one,” Alice muttered. “Come on, we're in here,” and she climbed the three steps into block 2.

They walked up the corridor to the door marked 2B, and Alice knocked tentatively.

“Come in,” a voice called.

Alice pushed open the door to find an ordinary classroom, much like the ones at their school back in Smiggins. There was a whiteboard at the front of the room, and four rows of desks facing it. There was a bank of windows down one side of the room, and the other side had windows looking onto the corridor. The back wall was covered in hand-drawn posters of cheeses of the different regions of Shetlock. (Alex, Alice noticed, was looking at these appreciatively.) A soft
thwack
drew her attention to the white mouse in a blue bow tie sitting at the teacher's desk next to the whiteboard, lightly tapping the desk with a long wooden ruler. She hadn't seen him at first, as he was almost dwarfed by two piles of folders stacked as high as his ears.

“Good afternoon,” he said briskly. “You must be Raz
and Rita. I'm Solomon Honker—but you may call me ‘sir.'” He stood up and Alice saw that although his top half was white, from the waist down he was a rusty orange. “Thank you for being so punctual. We have a lot of ground to cover and only a short time in which to cover it, so we'll need to begin immediately. I'm still finalizing the details of your transport into Gerander, but you will need to be ready to depart as soon as that's arranged.”

“Sorry,” Alex said, “I think there's been some mistake. My name's Al—”

Bang!

Alice jumped, startled, as Solomon Honker rapped his desk sharply with the ruler. “In this room, you are Raz”—he pointed the ruler at Alex—“and you're Rita,” he told Alice. “Understand?”

The two young mice nodded mutely.

“Do you understand?” Solomon Honker repeated more loudly.

“Yes, sir,” Alice squeaked.

“Good.”

Solomon Honker waved his ruler at two desks in the center of the front row, and Alice and Alex hurried over.

“Raz?” Alex muttered in Alice's ear as they took their seats. “Raz? What kind of ridiculous name is Raz?”

“It's your name, young man,” said Solomon Honker, who obviously had exceptional hearing. “And you'd better get used to it.”

“Yes, sir,” Alex said quickly.

“As I was saying, there's a lot to get through.” Solomon
Honker tapped one towering pile of folders then the other. “You'll need to understand the political situation in Souris, Gerander, and Shetlock in order to grasp the context in which you'll be operating. You'll have to learn all about your new identities and cover stories, as well as the culture and geography of Souris and, in particular, Tornley, the town you come from.”

“We come from Smiggins,” Alex corrected him.

Bang!
went the ruler.

“Young man,” said Solomon Honker sternly, “I don't know how things are done in Shetlock, but in a Sourian classroom the pupils do—not—speak—without—first—raising—their—hand.” Solomon Honker smacked the desk with his ruler in time with the words.

“But this is a Shetlock classroom,” Alex objected.

“What is your name?” Solomon Honker demanded.

“Al—”

Bang!

“Raz,” Alex said.

“And where are you from?”

“T-Tornley,” Alex stammered. “In Souris.”

“That's right,” said Solomon Honker. “You are from Souris. And this is a Sourian classroom. The day after tomorrow, you must travel behind enemy lines as Sourian children. We have no time to waste with pointless questions and quibbling.” He glared at Alex. “Do I make myself clear?”

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