203. Where's the prince?

 203. Where’s the Prince?

“Psttt!”

And then again, “Psttt!”

And “Pstttttt!”

It was the Leafies Vinny and Dolphus who told me what that pst sound was. The Leafies and my broher Cespuglio, for Ces was also with me. The three pointed at some bushes growing there in Minced Forest and sure enough, there was the source of the noise. A pair of  green eyes were staring at me, glowing like emeralds through the darker forest green foliage, now touched with a streak or two of orange.

“It’s safe, Mister!” said the Leafies to Dad.

When they say that, you can be sure it is. They have more guards and lookouts than donkey-eared King Midas had working for him on his web of spies.

“You can stop hissing and come out.”

And Dad crawled out of the bushes he was  camouflaged in.

“Arley,” he whispered, “were you at your Uncle Gen’s house last Saturday?”

I was sorely tempted to answer no.

“Not as far as you are concerned,” I said.

“Arley, I´m your father!” said Dad, a little louder, and a pinch irrately.

“And Mum’s my mother. Don’t make me choose between you. It isn’t fair.”

“Hmm. In your case, I suppose not. Well, will you at least tell me where your uncle Wildgale lives? That malcontent is bound to rant.”

“I can’t do even that. A supposition is  all I have to offer. I suppose he lives with Uncle Richearth. I’ve never seen them apart except  when the latter is under a tree reading a book. Or once when they were sore at each other.”

“No,” sighed Dad. “That’s not it. He’s got his own place somewhere.”

The Leafies were jumping about excitedly. It was obvious they knew the answer to Dad´s question, but eager as they were to answer it and prove the extent of their  knowledge, it seemed they wouldn’t speak out until he asked them to personally.

“Alright, you guys,” said Dad to Vinny and Dolphus, “speak and the king will owe you one. Where does that flake live?”

“You are looking for Prince Wildgale?”

“No, for Prince Yusupov,” scoffed Dad.

 The Leafies covered their mouths and began jumping even more frenetically.

“Now what?” hissed Dad, “I said I would owe you one. What do you want for this wee bit of info?”

They began pointing at me.

“You can tell Dad that,” I said. “He could easily find out anywhere else, I suppose. It´s probably common knowledge. And you’re not bound by oath.”

“No. Not common knowledge, no. Not everyone knows,” whispered Vinny.

“No, no, not just anyone,” agreed Dolphus.

“Fine. So you know everything, you formidable spotters. Now share!” cried Dad.

The Leafies looked at each other.

“No harm in saying?” Dolphus asked Vinny.

“Probably not,” said Vinny. “We´ve nothing against you, Mister,” he explained, looking Dad sraight in the eyes. “You mostly treat us with due respect. But it would be choosing between you and your wife. And she respects us too. So we´re not taking sides. We´re only telling Arley. He will know if he can pass the information on or not.”

Dad shook his head in feigned desperation and began to try not to laugh. He normally finds the Leafies endlessly amusing, though I don’t know if he feigns that too, for his own turbid reasons.

Dolphus jumped onto my shoulder and crawled into my ear. He buzzed what he had to say into it. Dad´s face was worth looking at.

“Niccolò, you were so right!” hissed Dad pretending to be  exasperated and looking down towards the underworld. “Are you going to tell or do I have to make you scared of me?”

“Wow!” said Vinny. “This is new. He wants to frighten us!”

“Or maybe Arley,” said Dolphus.

“He tried to bribe us, but he couldn’t.”

“Now he wants to take on the Leafies,” said Frankie, jumping down from a tree and staring at Dad defiantly.  

“Fine! You win. I´m leaving!” said Dad, laughing out loud now. “I’m not wasting any more time  with you neurotics. I could find this with my crystal ball, but I hate to carry the blooming thing. Good day, sirs!”

“Wait, Dad,” I said. “I might as well take you there.”

“Thank you,” said Dad, “that would be kind of you. Oh, you are coming too, son?” he added, glancing at Cespuglio, who had come out of the holly bush he had been crouching in and was trying to get ahead of us. “Well, the more the merrier and all that!” laughed Dad.

At which the three Leafies openly present jumped onto my brother’s shoulders.  

“I know where Wild lives,” said Ces in his husky voice, after coughing twice. "I´ve been there." And he got ahead of us so he could lead us there.

After we had been walking for like five minutes, Dad  stopped laughing to himself and began to shout, “Where the wild winds is this place? The island of Aeolus? Behind the moon and beyond the sun?”

“It’s not even been five minutes, Dad!” I said.

“What is it going to be? An hour? I haven’t got that kind of time! I’m far from being the overwhelmed White Rabbit and I’m never late. But where the sowing winds does Wildie hide?”

“Apple Island,” coughed Cespuglio.

“Why didn’t you say so?” cried Dad. “Now everybody hold still!” And he snapped his fingers and we appeared at that  little golden door in his garden that leads to the cider mills in Avalon.

We crossed the door and Dad sighed glancing at the mills. “I wish I had time for a drink.” His wish must have come true, for he went to the mills and acquired bottles of cider and doughnuts for everyone and a large jug that was to be a gift for Uncle Wild.Ces got to lug that, though I did offer to ake turns. He refused.

“Now, exactly where to?” Dad asked the Leafies.

“We always say you are a splendid fellow, Mister,” said the Leafies, smacking their lips on the treats. “But you’d better ask someone else. Not that we don’t know. It's the Titania objection.”

“I suppose asking someone else would be the sensible thing to do,” sighed Dad. “Ces?”

“Right by, in the moors.”

“What?” said Dad. “Don’t tell me Wild lives in Wuthering Heights? Well, I suppose that makes sense. He’s always sullen and gloomy.”

It turned out Uncle Wildgale lived in the only tree in the middle of the moorlands of Apple Island, all of which happened to be his property, given to him by his father’s hand  so he would look after his brother Richearth. Why he did not have a proper house built for him there, I do not know. And it was not the moment to ask. Dad was going to question him about a darker matter. A more delicate one, I should have said.