From the Adventures of Sam and his Magic Pocket
Book Three: The Lost Kingdom of Tussel
Written by Nicholas
Illustrations by Lawrence Stokes and Susie Day
Contents
The Haunted Sand Castle
There once was a sand castle in Florida, on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico. In many ways, it was like one that children playing on the beach might have made with shovels and cups. It had a large tower on each side, with a wall around the perimeter. A walkway along the top of the wall, which was called the battlements, afforded a view in all directions.
The way it differed from a child's sand castle is that it was much larger, and more finely made. And, to the mice, it was also a real castle: the center of government for the Kingdom of Mice that lived in that seaside realm. It was completely furnished with doors of oak reinforced with iron, and thatched roofs held up by wooden beams. There were tables, chairs, rugs, lamps and every other contrivance of a civilization. As for the mice themselves, they wore fine clothing and lived in luxury and style. The sand castle rested on dry ground to the north of a small, shallow inlet of the sea. A thoroughfare of colored tile led up from a dock on the inlet to the castle gates. The castle was built almost right up against the sand dunes. To the mice of this kingdom, these dunes seemed like mountains.
They were still making repairs to the castle, in consequence of an attack from an army of fiddler crabs that took place in the previous spring. Workers could be seen with buckets of wet sand, rebuilding the walls. The renovation of the Great Hall was nearly completed, and a feast was being planned to celebrate its reopening. The mice wanted their sand castle to look its best for this special occasion. They took down all of the colored banners from the tower walls to be washed and rehung. The windows were adorned with baskets of flowers. The portcullis was shined and polished so that it appeared to be made of gold.
The mice of this castle were in an upheaval of activity. Many busy paws worked all through the day in order to get the castle ready for the upcoming feast and celebration. The hardest working mice of all were the King and Queen of this kingdom. The Queen took special notice of the many arrangements of flowers that were to be displayed throughout the sand castle.
The King took charge of raising the timbers of the roof which covered the Great Hall. This was accomplished with the help of ropes and pulleys, and nearly one hundred mice. They had to be careful not to stand under the beams as they were hoisted up to the ceiling. Once a beam slipped out of place and fell to the floor with a loud crash. A mouse was nearly hit by it. They were extra careful after that.
The King's name was King Marcus the Third. He strode along a passageway of the royal chambers, heading for the stairs which led down to the Great Hall. He heard the roll of thunder and thought, "Here comes some rain. This will slow down the repair of the outer walls."
As he passed a window, he looked out and saw nothing but a beautiful blue sky. No clouds and no rain. "How odd," he thought. "I'm sure that I heard thunder. I must be working too hard." A moment later, he heard a second roll of thunder and the sound of rain as it rattled upon the thatching of the roof.
He ran back to the window, but again, he saw no clouds. It was a beautiful clear day. Yet, at that very moment, he could still hear the rain on the roof. The King turned and ran down the stairs to go outside and have a better look at the sky. Some of the mice who saw the King running, followed to see what he was up to.
By the time the King stood in front of the sand castle, there was a group of mice gathered around him. He looked up into the sky in every direction to see where the rain could have come from. There wasn't a cloud anywhere in sight. He looked out toward the surf and there were also no clouds on the horizon. He shook his head in bewilderment and went back into the castle.
The group of mice who had followed him, looked at each other and began to talk among themselves. That is why the Queen asked him how he was feeling as they sat, eating their evening meal. He looked puzzled, so she told him about how the mice were nearly all talking about his strange behavior that afternoon.
"Please keep this to yourself, dear Queen," replied King Marcus, "and I will tell you what it was that had disturbed me. I could hear thunder and rain, but when I looked up at the sky, I saw no signs of it."
"That is very odd. I hope it isn't a bad omen," said the Queen. She looked worried.
Very late that night, in the royal bed chamber, the King was sleeping poorly. In his dreams, he felt as if someone was standing in his chamber, staring at him. This feeling persisted. Then he turned over in his sleep and awoke. Though he couldn't see across the room, the feeling that someone was standing there, watching him, was strong. He laid in bed as still as a stone, listening to the quiet of his room. All he could hear was the easy breathing of the Queen laying next to him.
At last, he got out of bed and said to this unseen visitor, "Who is it? Speak up!" No answer. King Marcus reached for his sword and advanced to where he was sure there was someone standing. He found no one. Then he lit a candle and thoroughly searched the room for the intruder. Finding the room empty, he blew out the candle and went back to bed. The Queen hadn't stirred in her sleep the entire time. As the King lay awake, he tried to understand why he thought that someone was in his room, watching him. It was a puzzle.
The next morning, he barely remembered this nighttime experience, and went about his chores as usual. As he was walking jauntily down a hall, a crowd of mice ran up to him. They were all shouting at once, making it impossible for the King to understand what they were saying. At last, one mouse was asked to tell what had happened, while the others kept quiet.
He said, "As we were walking past the stairs leading up to the royal chambers, we saw a single eyeball floating in the air. It was descending down the stairs, moving up and down as if the eye belonged to an invisible creature. It was not the eye of a mouse, we are sure of that. This eye belonged to something that we have never seen before."
The King then asked, in an excited voice, "Are you sure of this thing?"
"We are sure," answered the mouse.
"Aye, we are sure, we are sure," murmured many other mice in the crowd. All of their eyes were turned toward the King. He stared back at them, trying to think of what to do or say. He finally dismissed them without a word, and went back to his work. After all, what could he say? He didn't know any more than they did about this floating eye.
Later that day, the King and four workers were walking along a passage that led from the Great Hall. Their noses were affronted by a strong smell of rich, dark brown dirt—the kind that you would find in a rain forest. It was the smell of decomposing wood and plants.
"Wasn't this hallway cleaned last week? Why do we smell the odor of dirt?" asked the King.
"Aye it was, sir. I supervised it meself," answered a worker.
Then they all saw it—a mouse-sized shadow of a fat-looking mushroom on the wall. And it was only a shadow! "Where's the mushroom that be a'makin' that shadow?" screamed one of the workers. They all panicked and fled down the passage, leaving the King standing there alone.
Then the King heard a voice coming from the shadow. It was a long and merry laugh, as if it was coming from a very fat and jolly person. "Who are you and what do you want?" shouted the King in a shaky voice, but he didn't stay to hear the answer, for he too fled down the passage.
King Marcus met two of the workers as he fled. They had turned back, having been ashamed of running from the unseen danger and leaving their King to face it alone. "The castle is haunted!" screamed the King, and he ran right past the workers on his way into the Great Hall.
Everyone there heard his screams and they looked worried. Then a groan, as if it was the wind with a voice, whistled among the great beams that supported the roof. A thin fog drifted into the room accompanied by the offensive odor of rotting debris. There was a rush of feet as one and all stampeded from the Great Hall and into the courtyard.
Many of the mice refused to re-enter the castle, and went back to their homes in the country. The King was the one who finally led the way back into the Great Hall with a few mice that were brave enough to follow. The fog was gone by then and so were the moans of the wind among the rafters. He conducted a search of the entire castle, and in the end, everyone was satisfied that there was nothing in the castle to be afraid of. All the mice went back to their work, and by evening, had almost forgotten about the trouble with the eye, the shadow and the groan.
Just before dinner, the head cook came flying out of the kitchen. He was screaming and waving a knife. Most everyone kept out of his way until he had calmed down. At last, the cook stopped shaking and set his knife on the table. He breathed deeply a few times, then began telling his story of what happened.
Someone had been banging on the pantry door, wanting to be let out. This particular door would shut and lock if there was a wind, and everyone knew that they needed to be careful.
"All right, all right! I'll come and let you out! Be patient," said the head cook. "It's your own fault that you let the door close and lock behind you. I have a mind to let you stay in there for a while if you don't stop banging on the door!"
He didn't like all of that rude banging and pounding on his pantry door. But, when he opened the door, there was no one inside. He grabbed a knife and ran into the pantry to investigate further. A wind came whistling through the kitchen just then and shut the door, trapping the head cook inside.
A moment later, the banging on the door started up as before. But, it wasn't the cook that was making the noise. Who was it then? For he was alone in the pantry. One of the kitchen helpers quickly opened the door and out bolted the head cook, waving the knife and screaming as he ran out into the Great Hall.
There was a large group of mice surrounding the head cook as he babbled out this account of what had happened. When the cook had finished with his tale, there was complete silence. No one knew what to think of this new threat, and no one wanted to go and check out the pantry.
Again that night, the King slept very poorly. He tossed and turned on his bed, and moaned. In his dreams, he was being chased all over the castle by invisible monsters and ghouls. No wonder he was having such dreams, with all the spooky events of the last two days. Many of the mice in the castle were having the same types of dreams. Then, in the still of the night, when it was the darkest and the coldest, King Marcus finally calmed down and the bad dreams left him.
The King laid very still on his bed, not quite awake, and not quite asleep. He was in the twilight of consciousness. In this state of mind, he got the distinct feeling that someone was standing in his bed chamber, watching him. As this feeling intensified, King Marcus awoke. It was almost as if he had been pricked by a pin. "Someone is standing in this chamber, staring at me. I can feel it. This same thing happened last night, but the intruder escaped before I could detect him," thought the King. "I will be quick in my movements and catch him off guard this time."
He instantly jumped out of bed and rushed to the spot where he felt the person was standing, and waved his arms around though the air wildly. He felt nothing. Then he lit a candle as he had done the night before and searched his room. His movements were only mechanical, for he knew in his heart that he would not find an intruder. The mysterious nighttime guest had left the instant that he had jumped out of bed. The Queen slept through the whole event, just as she had done the night before. After a long stare through the window into the night, the King also went back to bed and to sleep.
The next day, these hauntings took on a new and bizarre twist. A group of mice were walking down a hallway, and the King was seen approaching from the other direction. The mice stepped out of the way to let him pass, but not quick enough and the King walked right into the mice. They should have felt a collision, but they didn't. He seemed to have walked right through them. They turned to speak to the King about this, but he was gone—vanished from sight! Quickly, they ran down into the Great Hall in a state of turmoil. The King was there ahead of them. He looked up as this group of frightened mice approached. The other mice in the Great Hall swore that the King had been there all morning helping them repair an archway.
"Then who was that person in the hallway that looked just like the King and walked through us? Tell me that if you can!" asked the leader of the group of mice from the hallway. No one had a very good answer for them.
The King looked especially dumbfounded and speechless. He just kept shaking his head and looking at his feet. Everyone felt sorry for King Marcus. Obviously, he was more shook up than the rest of them. The mice murmured for some time before they broke up and went back to their work. Some more of the mice went home at this time and decided to stop working on the repairs of the sand castle until some suitable solution to these troubles was found.
After dinner that evening, when everyone's nerves were again beginning to settle, one of the cooks suggested a dance. The idea was received with great enthusiasm. The tables were set aside and a few mice picked up their musical instruments. A fiddle or two started to play, accompanied by a large bass fiddle. Someone started rattling a couple of spoons together, creating a lively rhythm, and a small flute played its own part up high. At last, someone brought out their bagpipes and filled the skin with air. The drone of the pipes and the bubbly little tune it played filled out the music and made it come alive.
The mice quickly forgot their worries, and danced to the music with abandon. Those resting at the side tapped their toes to the music and lustily sang along. There is nothing quite like dancing to music that you love and letting yourself go free, to take your stress away and set your mind at ease.
Late that evening, the dance came to an end and all of the mice went wandering off to their places, exhausted and happy. They were talking cheerfully to each other as they walked down the halls, when a faint wailing sound floated through the air. There was a hush among all of the mice, and their memory of the ghost who resembled the King returned.
King Marcus called the mice that were near him to his side and said, "The sound came from the west corridor on the ground level. Let's go and investigate."
There were about twenty of them that followed the King down that passageway. The wailing scream repeated itself. It sounded like someone in distress or in pain. They crept toward the cries cautiously. At last, they came to the end of the corridor. There was nothing there but a closet door.
The wailing cry came again, and this time it was very loud, as if it was coming from behind that closet door. Most of the mice backed up and looked as if they wanted to run, but no one was willing to be the first. The King walked up and opened the closet door with a jerk. It was dark and empty. The cry stopped as soon as the door was opened, and wouldn't repeat itself. Each of the mice peered into the closet, one at a time, to satisfy their own mind on the matter. Everyone went their separate ways at last.
As the King and Queen sat in their bed chamber, she asked him, "Why do you think we are being haunted, dear Marcus? Can you think of anything we can do to stop these strange events?"
"I have been asking these same questions myself, and I can't find the answer," replied the King. "We must wait and hope for a change, that's all."
"When we had that trouble with the fiddler crabs last spring," said the Queen, "the boy and girl that I told you about came and rescued me. Their names were Sam and Cynthia. Sam had a dog named Max. As I remember them, he was a medium-sized kid with brown hair and brown eyes. Cynthia had light brown hair and gray eyes, and was a little thinner and taller than Sam."
"Yes, you told me about them. He had a magic pocket, if I remember right. I would go and ask them to come to our aid, if I knew where to find them. But they were only here on vacation and have gone home months ago. Hammon, the old crab, would know where they are. He is a prophet and stargazer. Tomorrow, I will try to contact him."
The dance had been so relaxing and tiring at the same time that most everyone slept soundly. Even King Marcus slept well, and snored contentedly, which kept the Queen awake. She got tired of waiting for him to stop snoring, and nudged him hard in the ribs to get him to roll over. "Ah! Silence at last," thought the Queen, and she too went to sleep.
For the third time, a ghostly presence entered the King's bed chamber and stared intently at the King. And as before, the King could feel that someone was standing in his room, even in his sleep.
At length, he gradually awoke and looked around the room. This time, instead of jumping out of bed, he simply said, "I know that you are here in this room. I can feel your presence just as surely as if I were seeing you with my eyes. Speak up and tell me why you have visited me in my bed chamber these past three nights."
A voice replied, coming from the corner where King Marcus had thought all along that this personage was standing. "Do not wake the Queen, my grandson, for I have something to say to you in private," said a rich, rolling voice. A dim light sprung up around this nighttime visitor so that King Marcus could see him. He was a mouse in the prime of life, and was dressed in the royal clothes of the House of Marcus, just as the King himself wore.
"Who are you?" whispered King Marcus.
"I am King Marcus the First, your grandfather. I am the one who supervised the building of this sand castle, many years ago. I have been disturbed in my sleep and I come to give you a message—more than a message! I have come to give you a command and a plea!"
The King climbed out of bed and stood before this ghost. As he got a better look at his face, he thought, "He looks just like me. No wonder the mice thought this ghost was me as he walked through them in the hallway."
"I died with a secret in my heart that I should have told," said the ghost. "I alone knew what happened to the Lost Kingdom of Tussel. I could have saved them from their long enchantment, if I had only told the Great Ones what I knew. Now I will tell all, I will tell all!"
"Speak. Your grandson will listen and obey," interjected the King.
The ghost continued, "When I was young, I had a good friend named Slime. He was a Tussel Bump, which is a mushroom with legs, arms, eyes and a mouth. He took me to a chamber in a cave. We traveled there by magic, so that I wouldn't know of its location. 'I want ya to see somethin' out o' the ordinary, me friend,' he said in his usual gruff way. I was not disappointed. It wasn't just beautiful, it was breathtaking and astounding!
The walls of this room were covered with gems that sparkled and sent streams of light into every corner. Near the center of the room, hung two rather large green crystals. They were magical stones. 'This be the Stone o' Argus,' he said to me, as he pointed to the stone on the right. Then he cast a spell which made the stone turn to dust. He was holding a key in his hand, which he quickly slipped into his pocket. 'Do ya know what this dust be good fer?' asked Slime. But he never got the chance to tell me, for at that moment, a beam of light came from the other stone and hit my friend, making him vanish. I ran into the next room to keep from also being hit by that beam of light. It was a small room, and I crouched there, peering out at the remaining stone and the dust on the floor—the dust of the Stone of Argus.
"A wizard appeared, and I quickly darted out of view. This wizard had a large mustache and black beady eyes. He spoke to the other stone, asking, 'What happened to the Stone of Argus? How did it get turned to dust?' No answer. Just a gentle green glow. The wizard posed another question, 'What happened to the Kingdom of Tussel? I was just there, visiting King Bolete, when suddenly, they all disappeared.' The stone refused to speak. 'Answer me! A whole Kingdom has disappeared! They must be recovered!' shouted the wizard. 'They are my dearest friends!' He was fearful. Sweat was pouring down his face, though it was cool in the cave.
"At last, the stone gave a reply. I heard it and so did the wizard, but we didn't hear it with our ears. The voice came from inside my head. It said, 'When the Stone of Argus is restored, then the Kingdom of Tussel will return.' The wizard bowed his head and whispered, 'We will write it in the book of the happenings of the wizards and wait for a sign.' Then he raised his wand and collected the dust of the stone of Argus into a large bag. Next, he spoke to the stone once more, saying, 'Send me to the Temple of the Standing Stones,' and vanished, taking the dust of the Stone of Argus with him.
"I wandered out of the cave in a daze, found a port and boarded a ship. In time, I made it back to my castle. I should have told the wizard what I knew, but I didn't. My conscience bothered me all my remaining days."
"What can I do for you, Grandfather?" asked King Marcus the Third. He was deeply moved by this ghostly narrative.
The ghost continued, "Someone has brought the Forest of Gog to life, and the Tussel Bumps have started to wake out of their sleep. Their voices have returned, but they are still rooted to the ground and appear as common mushrooms. Their spirits have been released from the enchantment, freeing them to come to this castle and haunt it. They lay the blame for their long enchantment on me for not speaking up.
"Now, they have called me out of the grave to deliver this message to you. You must ask for the help of a boy named Sam and his cousin Cynthia. Sam has a magic pocket and a gift that lets him see into the future. Do not underestimate the girl. She has great powers of reason for her age and will also be an invaluable aid in this quest. Together, you will find a way to restore the Stone of Argus and thus bring the Kingdom of Tussel back. It is only then, that the Tussel Bumps will stop haunting this castle.
"Good luck. My time is up. I can feel myself being called back to the grave."
"Wait! Don't go!" cried the King. "Where can I find your friend, Slime? And where are Sam and Cynthia?"
The ghost had already faded into a shadow. His voice sounded as if it was a long ways off. It said, "The children are staying in one of the huts down the beach. As for my friend, I have no idea." Then the ghost vanished as if someone had just blown out a candle, and his voice was no more.
King Marcus stood there for some time. Then he woke the Queen and told her about his grandfather's message. He tried to recall every detail. "I feel that I must leave at once to ask these children to help us, for that is the only clear instruction that my grandfather gave me," the King told the Queen.
"Be careful and come back safely," responded the Queen.
Then King Marcus quickly dressed and left the room. He had determined that the sooner he started hiking down the beach to where Sam and Cynthia were staying, the better. He was relieved to get away from the haunted sand castle, and out into the cool night air. What could Sam and Cynthia do to help him restore the Stone of Argus to its original shape, which would free the Tussel Bumps from their long enchantment? He pondered this question over and over in his mind as he walked into the night.