Hatched Page 3

  I just took my first selfie.

  Secondly, the guilt gift was hardly necessary (though I happily accepted it), since I am totally jazzed that I’ll be going back to Bibi Riddlehoover’s for the summer!

  Here’s my own guilty thing: It will be a huge relief to be away from Mom for a while. It’s not that I don’t love her. I do. Of course I do. But emotionally speaking, she’s a total mess.

  On the other hand, both of us have good reason for being messed up.

  Well, never mind. That’s one thing I don’t want to write about now.

  Or ever, if I can manage it.

  What I do want to note down is my hope that something cool, something magical, will happen this summer.

  For the first time in a long time I honestly think that’s possible. Underneath all the touristy stuff about the “enchanted” Catskill Mountains, there really is something mystical about the place. When you get away from the towns, out into farm territory where Bibi lives, you can sense it in the land…sense it in every nook and hollow.

  And when you go into the forest, it feels like anything is possible. Rambling through the woods that surround Bibi’s farm is one of my favorite things ever. The place feels old and strange and alive in a way I can’t begin to describe.

  I don’t think this sense of magic is just my imagination. After all, this is where “Rip Van Winkle” and “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” are set.

  My school is named for Washington Irving, the guy who wrote those two stories, which are so famous that even though most people have never actually read them they know the basic plots. I did read both of them this spring, and I have to say that they are even weirder than people realize.

  They’re also funny, in a grown-up kind of way.

  Mostly they make it clear that the Catskills are a place where weirdness happens.

  I should also add that Mr. Irving was way more cool than my school has ever dreamed of being…a total snark-meister.

  (I bet he could write a hilarious story about how WIPS is run.)

  Anyway, given what I experienced while I was at Bibi’s last summer, I would say my hope for something cool happening is not totally crazy.

  Unless I was hallucinating that night, which is possible.

  Though I am excited to be going back, I have to admit (in these pages only) that I am also a little frightened.

  That one night was just so weird!

  From the Notebook of

  Abelard Chronicus

  June 26

  Today, as scheduled, I used Falcon Flight Services to carry me to the Overflight family’s aerie so I could work with Gerald.

  I do not like to think of myself as timid, but even after all these years I am not entirely comfortable riding those birds. I remain acutely aware that I am of a size they would consider appropriate for dinner.

  To calm my fears, I remind myself that if the falcon couriers were to start eating passengers on a regular basis, the service would soon be out of business. Discipline is strictly imposed—which is why it has been over fifty years since there was what is referred to as “an incident.”

  So I suppose I shouldn’t worry.

  Even so…

  Well, that is beside the point. More important to note is that my campaign of hints to get Gerald to consider scarpering off to the human world seems to have faltered. I thought I had pushed him into it, but I can tell he is wavering.

  And dithering, of course.

  I am fond of the boy, but he does dither.

  May the Powers Bright forgive me for using the griffling this way. But my heart’s deepest desire, which is not for wealth or fame or honors but for one true reconnection, depends on making this journey happen.

  That is, assuming that everything I have worked out in nearly two hundred years of study and research is correct.

  Friday, June 26

  Still here. But now I have a reason for delaying, and it’s not just that leaving the Enchanted Realm will be a total violation of the Code.

  The reason is that I have come to the conclusion that I need to do more planning.

  This is partly because of the visit from Master A today. It was a tricky situation. I did not want to tell him I was intending to leave the Enchanted Realm, because he would be honor-bound to stop me. But I did talk about how Mom and Dad had always warned us about leaving.

  In response, Master A said that this was typical parental exaggeration and exiting the Realm is not nearly as easy as some people seem to think.

  Which alerted me that I need to do some research on how to get out of here! Our parents have spent so much time cautioning the three of us against straying out of the Realm that I got the impression it would be so easy you might do it by accident. But now that I am thinking about leaving, I realize I have no idea how to go about it!

  Another reason for my delay is that I am not certain I can bear to leave Master A.

  Could I really survive in the human world without my teacher?

  Here is today’s poem:

  Framadoo-blamadoo,

  My teacher’s the best.

  I hope he don’t think

  That I’m just a pest.

  Drat. The grammar is bad in that one.

  Is grammar important in poetry?

  Probably.

  So that’s annoying. I would prefer to get along without grammar if I could manage it.

  I could also get along without my stupid brother. I swear, if Cyril calls me “Geraldine” one more time I am going to pluck his pinfeathers! The fact that I have been studying sky ballet, which is graceful and extremely athletic, does not mean I am a girl! But Cyril Stupidhead thinks anyone who would rather skydance than play Seven-Griffin Air Battle is a sissy.

  Gaaah!

  But what if I really am a sissy? The truth is that what I am thinking of doing frightens me from the sharp point of my beak to the tufted tip of my tail.

  That is not good. It is not becoming for a griffin to feel fear!

  On the other wing, Master Abelard once told me that “he who feels no fear can never be courageous.” He says that only the stupid are never afraid. Overcoming your fear is the true mark of courage.

  So take that, Cyril, you never-scaredy-pants. How can you be brave if you’ve never been afraid?

  As for me, I’ve got the fear part down pat.

  Now all I have to do is overcome it.

  From GNOMISH! A Collection of Essays on the Unofficial History of the Gnomes

  One of the great unsolved mysteries of the gnome world is the Lost City of Batavia.

  In brief, at some point in the early 1700s (as humans mark the years) a small but thriving community of gnomes, one well connected to other villages and cities through the vast network of tunnels that had been built over the centuries, disappeared.

  Though it may sound dramatic, the word “disappeared” is the most correct term. If the stories are to be believed, one day Batavia was there, the next day it was not. Oh, the homes themselves remained, along with a great deal of what was in them. But the gnomes themselves had just…vanished, with no word of why or how or where. No signs of bloodshed or violence were found. The very lack of those things made the situation all the more mystifying.

  Of course, that is if the stories are to be believed.

  Many theories for the city’s disappearance have been put forward over the years. Some think the population was enslaved by a wicked sorcerer. Others believe they were fleeing some great scandal. A small number of people have claimed that the Batavians discovered an item of enormous significance and power and chose to go into hiding to protect it.

  There have been hints and rumors that the vanished gnomes departed to the New World on one of the ships taking settlers to the Hudson River Valley. However, no reliable proof of this has ever been offered, and given the edicts from the emperor at around that time, the very idea seems laughable.

  To this day, the fate of the Batavian gnomes remains a mystery that perplexes historians. At least thr
ee gnomish novels have explored the story. They have been popular but are considered trashy at best by more distinguished critics.

  The fact that the gnome king has a standing offer of five thousand golden perkles for anyone who solves the puzzle has helped keep the question fresh in gnomish minds.

  Abelard Chronicus

  Professor of Gnomics

  University Enchantica

  North American Division

  From: Office of Discipline & Enforcement, University Enchantica, North American Division

  Date: June 26

  To: Abelard Chronicus, Gnome, Gnome Hall, University Enchantica, North American Division

  Dear Professor Chronicus,

  That you allowed your essay regarding a certain historical mystery (which I shall not name here!) to be published in GNOMISH! A Collection of Essays on the Unofficial History of the Gnomes has recently come to our attention.

  We were startled—nay, shocked!—to see that you had written this, much less allowed it to see the light of day. To say that we were displeased is an understatement.

  This is a final warning. Any additional pursuit of this subject, which is clearly on the Forbidden Topics List, will result in severe disciplinary action, most likely expulsion from the university and the termination of your teaching career.

  Sincerely,

  Egbert Waffle, Gremlin

  Dean of Discipline and Enforcement

  Saturday, June 27

  I have made my packing list.

  This is good, as it helps me feel that my plan to depart is more real.

  The list is actually quite brief. Here it is:

  Diary (without it I would go mad!)

  Inkpot (so I can write in the diary)

  Treasures (duh!)

  Encyclopedia Enchantica (condensed edition)

  The treasures, of course, I must take, as it is my job to guard them. I have nine, one given to me each year on the anniversary of my hatching. Well, on the day I was supposed to hatch.

  I am still horrified that Mom told Cyril and Violet what actually happened that day.

  Those days.

  Once the sibs heard the story, it was nothing but ammunition for them to tease me with. Mom has spoken to them about it many times. Sometimes quite harshly. But once she is out of earshot they ignore what she has said and continue to harass me.

  Snickety-snackety,

  My siblings are pains.

  So what if they tease me?

  It shows they lack brains!

  Hmmm. That one is not very nice. I wonder if it is acceptable to write mean poetry. Maybe yes, if it’s about someone who is being mean to you?

  I shall have to discuss this with Master Abelard.

  Moving on to more important things, I still have to deal with the matter of this year’s treasure! I have been fussing for at least six months now over what I might acquire. I want it to be special and awesome and amazing, to show my siblings and my dad that I am more than they think, better than they realize.

  Which is all very good…except I have no idea how I am going to do that!

  And I only have two weeks and four days left to try!

  Oh dither dither dither. Why in the world am I worrying about the Hatchday celebration when I don’t intend to be here for it?! I hate the thought of missing it, but it’s likely if I am here, I will suffer enormous humiliation.

  GAAAAHHHH! Why can’t I choose just one thing to worry about?!

  I really am a creature of two parts.

  The Treasures of

  Gerald Overflight

  (Annotated list, as recorded in the Griffin Registry)

  Following is a list of the items currently in the hoard of Gerald Overflight. Also noted is the source of each item, as well as occasional comments on the gifts themselves.

  Year 1: One small diamond, wept by the dragon Fiona for her lost love; given by Gerald’s parents, Reginald and Cecelia Overflight.

  Note: Considering Gerald’s sensitive and overwrought nature, this gem-tear from a lovelorn dragon proved to be particularly appropriate. It does, however, raise the question of whether the gift suited the griffling or if it in fact helped determine his personality.

  As with most jewels that are part of an individual hoard, the diamond is stored in a small silk bag made by the spider people of the Great Southern Forest.

  Year 2: One large ruby from the hilt of an ancient Roman sword; presented by Lucretia Broadwing, maternal grandmother of Gerald.

  Year 3: First edition of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; provided by Mortimer Overflight, paternal grandfather of Gerald.

  Year 4: Golden ring reputed to have been worn by the Queen of Sheba; given by the Granite Valley Trolls, family friends of the Overflights.

  Note: The Overflight family has a particularly close relationship with the Granite Valley Trolls, which began when the Overflights rescued a troddler who had become stranded on a cliff.

  Year 5: Silver dagger from the recently discovered Elkwood Hoard, possibly handcrafted by the dwarf Shirakuze; brought by Gerald’s uncle Mordecai Overflight.

  Note: Some complained that this was extravagant.

  Year 6: Quill pen used by William Shakespeare while writing Titus Andronicus; obtained by Gerald’s tutor, Abelard Chronicus, gnome.

  Note: There is some debate as to whether this was genuine. Taking into account the somewhat unsavory reputation that has developed around Gnome Chronicus, this is not surprising.

  Year 7: Brass armband worn by Alexander the Great; given by Gerald’s brother, Cyril.

  Note: For several years Alexander the Great wore a new armband each day, giving the previous day’s armband to the griffins in honor of their mutual agreements. These armbands are ancient treasures but not terribly rare. A common first sibling gift.

  Year 8: Feather from the wing of the pegasus Aerilinn; given by Gerald’s sister, Violet.

  Year 9: Three-thousand-year-old figurine of Ishtar, carved in ivory. From ancient Babylon; given by Artoremus Lashtail, High Lord of the Griffin Stronghold of the Northern Quarter.

  From The Secret History of Alexander the Great

  By Charles Smart, Dwarf, Professor of Hidden History, University Enchantica

  Alexander Griffin-Friend (or, as he is known in the human world, Alexander the Great) is one of the most remarkable figures in the history of Griffindom.

  The story most often told by humans about the connection between Alexander and the griffins is that he captured a pair of griffins and forced them to draw a chariot that would carry him to the skies.

  As usual, the truth is more complicated. Briefly it is this: In his restless urge to conquer new territory, Alexander marched his army north, where he came to the realm of the griffins, who were wing-deep in their war with the Arimaspians (gigantic, ferocious humanoid creatures, each with but a single eye glaring out at the world from the center of its forehead).

  In return for Alexander’s help in defeating the Arimaspians, the Grand Aerie of Hyperborea pledged that two griffins would always be at the great man’s service. To this pledge the griffins remained ever faithful.

  It is true that a brief breach in the relations between Alexander and the griffins occurred when, in an excess of daring, Alexander urged a team to carry him to the very heavens. That adventure did not end well. However, the rift that followed was resolved when Alexander offered a gracious apology and a generous gift.

  Aside from this disruption, the relationship between Alexander and the griffins remained close and cordial to his very last day. Indeed, a griffin guard of honor stood watch at his funeral!

  Given his grace of form, blazing courage, ferocity of heart, and desire to soar beyond what is thought possible, Alexander might well have been a griffin in human form.

  Sunday, June 28

  Great fluttering ear tufts! I may not be able to do this after all.

  By “do this,” I mean “run away.”

  I just did some research on how to leave the Enchanted Realm, mostly
in a book that I’m not supposed to read. (I would feel guilty about this, but Master A believes with something approaching ferocity that knowledge should not be hidden away.)

  While I agree that knowledge should not be hidden, what I found today was fairly horrifying!

  From Forbidden Knowledge of the Enchanted Realm

  Compiled by Ethelred the Obnoxious, Goblin

  Despite the Great Separation, the matter of passing from the Enchanted Realm to the human world (and vice versa) remains a topic of intense interest to beings on both sides of the Transcendental Curtain.

  The first thing to state, though it may seem obvious, is that it is generally easier to leave the Enchanted Realm than it is to enter it…though in the case of humans there is great variability in the matter. And, of course, once a human has penetrated the Realm, he or she may find it quite difficult to depart.

  Complicating things is the fact that methods of transit vary from being to being. For those in the human world, the most well-known method of entering the Realm is to go three times widdershins around a church. (That is to say, counterclockwise, keeping the church always to your left.) It is important to note that this generally requires a password. Alas, it is forbidden to write this word, and I would suffer great penalties were I to do so.

  Passage also depends on the mood the Realm is in. Sometimes a mortal is allowed to enter unexpectedly.

  This is not always a good thing.

  Obviously, if the supplicant is from the Enchanted Realm, no password is required. Furthermore, any accompanying humans can transit with him, her, or it.

  For the creatures of the Shadow Sea, such as mermaids and selkies, there is usually an underwater cave involved. Krakens, however, are no longer allowed to make the passage at all. Given their size and voracious appetites, the possibility of discovery is all too likely.