Squall on the Prairie Sea

It was said that all flesh was grass, and there was no better place to see that firsthand than the middle of the open prairie. That vast expanse of thick grass, rocks, and clay that made up most of the central part of the Columbian continent. Look to the north, towards the lakes and the forests beyond. Grass. South, to the deserts and the hidden empire of wonders? Just a mess of grass in the way. East or west, it didn't really matter. There were oceans out there somewhere, but there was so much grass here it could've been an ocean just by itself. That's why people called it the Prairie Sea.

While plenty of animals made their homes out there, not too many Florabeasts did. Even though there was plenty of sunshine and water, the grass was so dense, it was hard to find a place to root for the night. Those what were out there would congregate around cleared patches with bare soil, unless of course they were traveling alongside their planters.

That was why a few Florabeasts were crossing the Sea that particular summer. One was a broad Ourachs, its crystal horns glistening in the sun while it muscled its way through the brush. It wasn't pulling a plow, though, but a wagon. Behind it, a Sasquash lumbered along, using its big hands like an extra set of feet to keep balance over the uneven ground. Every so often, the wagon hit a rut, but the Ourachs didn't even break stride while the Sasquash pulled up the rear axle and got it free.

The cover of the wagon was your typical oilcloth, stout enough to withstand rain and wind, but up and down the sides were splashes of color. There was a crude painting of a little house in the middle of some trees, along with a four-legged critter with huge horns, a green and white round thing with long arms, and five people with stick arms and legs. A big cat with stripes and a flower on the end of its tail was nearby, along with another house with still more people. It was quite the little mural, a testament to a place a whole lot different than the endless green that surrounded them.

In the back of the wagon were two youngsters, probably the budding artists who had decorated the cloth. The young boy sat with his arm over the edge of the gate, waving it back and forth in time with the sway of the wagon. A golden Wheatzel lay with most of itself over the gate too, letting its head and stubby forelegs sway back and forth. Next to him sat his sister, only a couple of years older but acting as grown-up as she could, reading aloud from a book. A handful of a Broccoleap sat on her lap, its little rabbit nose twitching like nothing else.

"'I've finally got you now, Ridge,' the evil Sheriff Yancy cackled." She did her best dastardly laugh. "'You may think you have a choice, but either one will lead to doom!' Ridge Rider was in a tight spot, especially for him. His loyal Wolfwood was tied up, dangling from the branch of a nearby tree, but clever enough to start swinging herself toward the crooked lawman. He could shoot the rope that kept her tied, but he would rather use his last bullet to cut the fuse for the dynamite that would collapse the dam and flood the town. Time was running out, so he decided to..."

The boy looked up, blinking. "To do what?"

"That's the end of the book." She shrugged, then turned the page. "It says, 'find out what happens next in The Adventures of Ridge Rider, number thirty-five.'"

"Aw, shucks. We haven't got that one." He rolled over, staring at the sky. "Now we'll never know how he gets out of that tight spot."

"Don't be like that, Felix," she admonished. "There might be a bookseller in our new town. Or we might meet another family with a boy like you, and you can trade."

"Yeah!" He perked up. "He'd be keen on this arrowhead I found." He pulled a barely triangular rock from his pocket.

"Maybe... another book instead?"

"Naw, he'd be sure to like this." The boy held it in his fingers and pretended to draw a bow, pointing it out the back of the wagon. Just before he fired it, he saw something in the grass. "Hey, she's back!"

A single lily flower had sprouted in the middle of the grass, but instead of moving farther away, it got closer. Even stranger, the stalk was covered with black and orange stripes. With a growl, a Lilytiger breached the surface blades. A young lady rode side-saddle on its back, grass brushing against her skirt as they came up alongside the larger vessel.

"Hi Bea!" Felix called.

"Ahoy there," the older girl replied. She had to be kin of the other two, they all had the same brown eyes and curly brown hair. "I've got news, both good and bad. Which would you like first?"

"Bad!" Felix blurted out.

Bea tilted her head. "You picked last time. Mattie, it's your turn."

Mattie held her Broccoleap, petting the florets on its back. "Good, first."

"Alright. The Gast we ran into yesterday isn't following us."

"Thank the Lord," Mattie exhaled.

"Ratscallions!" Felix thumped the boards, making his Wheatzel jump. "I ain't never seen one like that, and now I never will again. Who would've thought, a big ham sandwich shaped like an alligator. What did Uncle Caleb call it?"

"He said it was a Croc Monsieur," Mattie chimed in.

"Yeah, that's it. It wasn't that scary. Oscar could've stuck it through with his horns while Saul pounded it flat." He waved his hands around while he talked, pantomiming horns and fists and jaws.

"Anyway…" Bea smiled through the energetic interruption. "That was the good news. The bad news is there's no stream or creek anywhere nearby."

"Yippee! No bath!" Felix shouted, raising a grubby hand in the air.

"And no cooking," Bea didn't blink, "so nothing but hardtack for supper."

Felix grumbled while Mattie looked ready to say something, but they were all interrupted by a voice from above. "Beatrice? Is that you, dear?"

"Coming, mother!" The Lilytiger leaped toward the front of the wagon.

"Felix..." came another voice, quieter, from right behind the two. A little alcove had been laid out, with a chair bolted to the floorboards, and a curtain to separate the owner from the supplies that took up the rest of the cargo area. A fellow with thick hair and a bushy beard sat there, his leg propped up and looking as comfortable as one could in a place like that. An orange Hedgehorn lay on his lap, spread out so all the prickles were facing upward.

The boy scooted around, the Wheatzel stayed put to gaze out the back. "Sorry, Uncle Caleb. Did I wake you with my hollerin' again?"

"You did, but that ain't no matter." Uncle Caleb's voice sounded as weak and weary as he looked. "You need to know that Gasts are no laughing matter. If we see one again—" He started up a cough. "When we see another one, you stay in the wagon. I don't want you gettin' near it for anything, you hear me?"

"Yes, Uncle Caleb."

"That's a lad. Mattie, will you pick up Helena for me? I need to sit up and don't want to drop her on the floorboards again."

Bea guided her Lilytiger up to the fore of the prairie schooner, where a serious-looking lady sat to starboard beside her husband. She'd given her older daughter the shape of her eyes, and the way she tilted her head when she talked to someone. Right now, that someone was the Ourachs yoked to the wagon.

"Slow down a bit, Oscar," she called. "And keep straight, don't want to run over Lawrence's paws again." Oscar snorted his assent, while Lawrence growled his appreciation as he came up to the running board. The head of the family waved to his oldest, his other hand tight on the rifle in his lap.

"Hello Ma and Pa," Beatrice said, then relayed the same news she had just given her siblings. Ma's face went tight, but Pa just nodded.

"You went out on the usual circuit?" he asked.

"Yes, Pa. We went out until we could barely see Carson overhead."

"Good. That will have to do." He was calm as could be. "We'll find a water source of some kind either tonight or tomorrow if we keep this course."

"And how can you be sure of that, Donald?" Ma blinked her eyes at him.

"Because, Eleanor, of those." He pointed up at the wide blue sky, where a flock of rosy Peachtridge and other birds soared in the same direction. "They're heading to the water, and so are we. They just have to hurry, since they don't have casks, like we do."

"Which are nearly empty," Eleanor pointed out.

"Nearly empty isn't empty."

The Lilytiger let out a sharp growl, almost like a bark. "Lawrence, what's wrong?" Beatrice asked. "I think he smells something ahead. We'll go have a look." The sleek beast parted the grass as he bounded, the long blades springing back up as soon as he passed through.

Donald scratched his beard. "Did she do that on purpose, I wonder?"

"I wouldn't put it past her. That girl has always been bright for her age."

"She did learn from the best, after all." He gave her that inviting grin.

"Oh, you." She took his free hand, stroking it gently as they bounced along. "I'm just praying this tutor we've heard so much about is still there. He could've moved on to the other side of Columbia and we'd never know."

"That's true, of nearly everything," Donald said, staring out at the grass. "Will the Jenks still have a plot of land for us, or did they let it to another family, because we weren't there when July ended? Will the school have room for the children? Will Felix get sent home every day because he and Wilhemina can't keep their noses to themselves?" This brought a genuine smile from his wife. "There's too many questions to ask and answer, so we simply have to trust in the Lord."

"And trust that the Blight hasn't spread that far..."

"A perfect example! We had to leave the Lake Territory because the Blight turned our crops to sand and ashes. And if we settle a new homestead and the same thing happens, what will we do?"

"Languish?"

"No! We'll pack it all up again and find another place. How many times did our Lord fall on the way to Calvary? We still have many more falls ahead of us, I'd reckon."

Eleanor sighed. "How can you sound so sure, in the face of all the unknown?"

He smiled. "And how can you remain so worried, in spite of all the graces we've been given?"

She just shook her head.

Lawrence and Beatrice returned, on the other side near her Pa. "Nothing to worry, just some prairie dogs. But I did find something I think you'll like." The Lilytiger leaped ahead once more. "Can you pull us this way, Oscar?" she called out behind her.

The Ourachs looked over, Ma nodded. "Go ahead." He snorted, then did as his planter told him.

"Ah, now this is the ticket!" Pa crowed, leaping down from the bench to the rocky soil. He stretched his arms above his head before helping Ma down. The children were already scrambling down themselves, eager for the change of scenery.

"Hmm," Ma scraped at the dirt with her boot, then looked around the patch, big enough for their wagon and few others besides. "If grass isn't growing here, is it a worthwhile place for the beasts to root?"

"It'll be just fine. Their roots can go much deeper than the prairie grass."

Lawrence was ready to prove that, laying down with a huff while Bea slid off to join the others. "Come over here!" Felix called to her, his Wheatzel scurrying around his feet. "I think I found some blackberries!"

Ma took her husband's hand. "Help me get Caleb down?"

"Of course."

Within a few minutes, the whole family was stretching their legs and exploring the quiet little bubble. The children hunted for something to sweeten their dinner, while Pa unhitched the Ourachs and let him roam about too. Ma set to preparing supper. Uncle Caleb walked slowly to the edge of the grass, leaning on his crutch. His shoulders drooped, but his features were still firm. He looked up at a soaring shadow, then raised his good arm, covered in a leather bracer.

A pale green Celereagle landed with a rush, folding up its striated wings. "Hello Carson," Caleb said softly. "Anything interesting to share?" Carson screeched, then hopped to the ground. "Wonderful." He scratched around for a bit, as if getting to know the dirt beneath his talons.

"So, was it south?" No response.

"North, then?" He opened one wing and left it there.

"West?" The other wing opened and closed.

"Northwest?" Screech.

"Something to the northwest. Danger?" Glassy eyes blinked. "Something useful?" A loud screech.

"A settlement? Just a cabin? A patch of wild corn?" He ran through a few more beneficial encounters before getting an enthusiastic reply.

Ma folded down a panel on the side of the wagon, making a chopping board and working platform. Caleb came up beside her. She didn't slow down. "Anything good?"

"Yes, and no." He peered over her shoulder at the dicing vegetables. "I thought we ran out of onions."

"Girls found some. Felix should be gathering blackberries, but more likely filling his belly instead of the basket. These will cook over the fire until they're nice and sweet, without using any water."

"That takes me back." He leaned against the side of the wagon. "Hunting around with you for ramps and onions, staying out until evening when Mother's Yarrowl came hooting after us."

"Yes, those were the days. Sometimes it's hard to believe that we've grown up so fast..." Bea and Mattie walked by just then, baskets and gathering gloves of their own. The little Broccoleap hopped after its planter as fast as it could.

"Anyway, the report. Carson spotted a patch of trees to the northwest."

"Wonderful! We could use more fuel than just dried grass."

"It's at least a day's ride away."

"That should be fine. Northwest is still west, after all."

"True. Only other thing was a herd of buffalo to the south, though they'd be gone before we could catch up with them."

"No matter. We have enough salt pork. And whatever Alice brings back. I haven't seen her yet," she looked around the wagon, then under it. "I'll have to ask Donald."

"Hmm..." Caleb looked out across the prairie. "Still not close enough with her to have any kind of bond?"

"Oh, that means a lot, coming from you." She pointed the knife right at him. He didn't flinch. "Not everyone can pull off the kind of feat you did with Carson."

He was quiet a moment. The smoke from the campfire blew in their direction, but he didn't need an excuse to close his eyes. "I can't really claim any kind of accomplishment there. As soon as the last shovelful of dirt was on the grave, he yelled at me from the tree where he'd been watching. I felt the vine, deep in my heart. You know the one. It was just as sure as if I'd plucked him from the soil myself."

Eleanor laid down the knife and pushed the onions into a bowl. "Pan should be hot enough by now."

Supper was had with the usual ceremony. A yellow-flowered Foxalis showed up to Pa's side with a grouse in her mouth, so he dressed and fixed it to be added to the supper of fried onions and hot oilcakes. Dessert was blackberries over hardtack, the sweet juice making the rock-like bread into a passable cobbler. Caleb sat on his stool, Helena the Hedgehorn by his side. Felix worked on his whittling, while the girls used the last of the daylight to sew. Donald got out his harmonica and filled the glade with songs from their last home.

While the Humans relaxed, the Florabeasts had their own little congregation. The Ourachs and the Sasquash walked around one of the least rocky spots, while the Lilytiger kept his nose to the ground, pawing here and there. The Foxalis stood by the smaller Wheatzel and the Broccoleap, while the Celereagle perched on the wagon, watching. Every so often, there would be a bark, a bray, or a growl. Saul stepped over a stone with his big ape feet, right as the Broccoleap let out a chirp. The Sasquash turned around, picked up the rock and tossed it into the grass.

"Hey Pa," Felix said, watching the song and dance. "What do you think they're up to?"

Donald let the note linger before replying. "Who, the beasts? Looks like they're finding a good place to root for the night. Oscar and Lawrence make a ring for the others to lay inside, while Saul stays outside in case of trouble."

"I know that, but it ain't dark yet. They usually wait 'til after sundown."

Pa nodded and started watching too. Oscar bent his neck and shoved one of those big horns into the dirt; it came out a little darker than usual. Saul scooped out handfuls of soil while Lawrence used his front paws to dig like a hound. The Hedgehorn waddled away from Caleb, and Carson swooped down to perch on Oscar's back.

Caleb leaned forward. "They digging for something?"

By now, all eyes were on the scene, so they could rejoice together when the Sasquash pulled up mud instead of dirt.

"They found a spring!" Donald jumped to his feet. "Felix, get the shovels."

"Yes Pa!"

By the time the moon rose, the boys had dug out enough rocks that Ma and Bea could scoop up muddy water into a washpan, then Mattie could ladle it through a cloth and into the kettle. Caleb wove grass into knots and fed the fire for boiling, and by bedtime there weren't any more nearly-empty casks left on board.

It was a little later than usual before everyone had washed their faces, said their prayers, and gotten their goodnight kisses. Mattie, Felix, and Beatrice slept under the wagon, the younger two nestled in hammocks hanging from the axles. Bea laid out her bedroll where she could still see the moon and the stars. They could hear the adults getting settled in above them, Ma and Pa going over the day while he brushed her hair, Uncle Caleb already snoring in his chair.

"I know what I would do," Felix was saying, "if it was me."

Mattie was tucking all her hair under her sleeping bonnet. "If you was what?"

"If I was in a tight spot, like Ridge Rider, on top of that cliff. I'd've waited until Cornelle the Loyal Wolfwood was swinging far enough towards Sheriff Yancy, then shoot her rope. She'd've plowed into him, then he'd've fallen onto the fuse and put it out. Then Ridge could tie him up and save the town."

"That's a good plan. Sounds like you don't need number thirty-five after all. You made your own ending."

"Yeah, I guess so! Thanks for reading to me anyhow. I still have trouble keeping all those letters right where they should be."

"You're welcome. It'll be good practice for when I grow up to be the schoolteacher in our new town."

"You still wanna do that?" Felix stared up at the bottom of the wagon. "What if they don't let you take over for the teacher who's already there?"

"Then we can start a new school. If the Blight keeps spreading, more families like us will head toward the Mountain Territory. Their children will need teaching too."

Bea made a noise that sounded like agreement. Her eyes were closed, but Mattie knew she was always listening. She liked to imagine her ears perked up like her Florabeast's, never letting a thing by. She wished she could be like that, since the moonlight and the warm blankets were about to claim her to sleep.

"I think I've decided what I wanna be when I grow up, too," Felix nearly whispered. "I'll need to build up a good team of beasts. Something strong, like a Sasquash, probably from Saul's seeds. By then, Wilhemina will have withered too, so with one of her sprouts, I'll have two beasts with a real good chance of landrace."

Mattie rolled over. "What would you need all that power for?"

"To be a Gast Hunter, of course."

Beatrice sat up, barely missing the boards above her. "To be what?"

Felix started to repeat himself, but Bea had heard him just fine. "After what happened to Uncle Caleb? How he can't walk right because an out-of-control Preserve sucked up his leg? Not to mention what happened to Aunt Maria? Why in the Lord's name would you choose that for yourself?" She was getting loud, but didn't care.

"Because someone has to!" Felix cut in. "Every year, the Gasts get stronger, even I know that. If I don't get ready now, who knows what'll happen by the time I'm older?"

Bea's eyes were on fire, but before she launched another volley: "It's late, you two." Mattie was nearly out, and she wanted to keep it that way. "We still have a lot more years before Felix can leave home, so let's save the argument 'til then."

Silence was the only answer. Mattie started snoring.

Bea pulled the blankets up to her chin. "I just don't want to see any more of my family get hurt."

"That's why I'm glad you're my big sister," Felix muttered.

The sun rose on a camp being struck. Without any tents, all it really took was gathering up all the campfire supplies, children's bedding, and any stray chairs. The beasts seemed to take a bit longer to rouse than usual. Mattie squeezed between Lawrence's tail and Saul's shiny rind, holding her Broccoleap in her arms.

Bea was waking up her Lilytiger by scratching behind his petal-like ears. "Come on now, Lawrence. It's already sunup. Pull up those roots and let's get riding." That got only a deep growl. She turned to her sister. "And how is little Bertrand the Second doing this morning?"

Mattie held up the sleepy critter, a few roots still on his legs and belly. "He's wonderful as always. I knew I picked the right seed."

Bea smiled. "Good. Broccoleap usually live about ten years, so with any luck you'll be able to give his seeds to your children when they need beasts of their own."

"Gosh, Bea, you always look so far ahead. I'm only eleven, settling down is too far away for me."

Lawrence finally pulled in the last of his roots and got to his paws. "Ma was seventeen when she and Pa got married."

"And I'm very glad for it, but that just ain't for me." Bertrand wiggled in Mattie's arms, putting his green paws on her shoulder.

Bea hopped on her Lilytiger's back. Mattie looked up at her. "Don't tell me you're planning on finding a suitor next year too?"

"I didn't say that." Lawrence padded away from the group. "We have a lot of miles ahead of us," she called over her shoulder. Mattie knew she meant more than one kind of mile.

Pa stood up on the front bench, the highest point in the camp without crawling up on top of the canvas. "We'll need to push hard to reach those trees by sundown," he said, "especially with that kind of weather on the horizon."

Out where he pointed were dark clouds, only getting darker and cloudier. The wind wasn't blowing too hard where they were, but that didn't mean much. They could've had all day, or just a few hours. Nothing to be done, except press on.

Felix and Mattie sat on the front bench in between their parents. Beatrice had said she wanted to discuss something with Uncle Caleb in private, so the youngsters got a chance to see where they were going instead of where they'd been. Felix bet he knew what Bea wanted to talk to their uncle about, but didn't think too much more of it, since he got to sit near Pa and hold the rifle over his shoulder. It wasn't loaded, of course, but he didn't complain.

"And I'll put up a swing, in a big tree over the creek. Then I can jump out over the water and splash right in!" He demonstrated this with his free hand, Wilhemina swaying on her bristly hind legs.

"Now Felix," Pa said, "We don't get to pick out the best open parcel like we did in the old Territory. Mr. Jenks has a portion of his land that he's willing to let us use, a place where we can farm and live, in exchange for a share of our harvest every season."

"You mean, we gotta pay taxes to him? That ain't right!"

"Actually," Mattie cut in, "paying rent for land usage was common for a long time. Most farmers in the Old World didn't own their land, they just worked it."

"Well, it don't sit right with me, 'cause—" He swallowed his next words, grabbing for his hat as a gust of wind surprised him and everyone else on the bench.

"The wind must've shifted," Pa said, peering up at the sky.

With a mighty screech, Carson came diving down, landing on the backboard. "Donald!" Caleb called to his brother-in-law. "Bad weather ahead!"

Ma didn't need any kind of bond with the Celereagle to know that if he didn't want to stay in the air, it was bad weather indeed. She called Saul over to her. "Bring Lawrence and Alice here, right away." She didn't want Beatrice jumping out of the wagon to find her Lilytiger. The Sasquash galloped away, using his long arms like another pair of legs.

Oscar kept pulling, no one had told him to stop. Pa kept an eye upward and an ear outward. It was still too early to tell anything. "Eleanor, you act like the beasts can talk to one another."

"After last night's dowsing session, I'm surprised you still think they can't." She put one hand on her bonnet to steady it. "Remember when Felix fell out of that tree? Wilhemina came back into the yard by herself, then before I knew it, Saul practically put me on Oscar's back and he took off to where Felix lay. How could Oscar have known where to go unless Wilhemina had told him?"

Felix remembered that day all right, but hadn't known about the beast's confabulation beforehand. He looked at Mattie, and they both shrugged.

The rain started up just then. First a cool drizzle, then cold droplets, then practically hail. All in less than ten seconds.

"Children, into the wagon, get your father his raincoat!"

Children did as they were told, their Florabeasts following or being carried. They made their way over the trunks and crates to the back, where Bea was waving over her Lilytiger. The Foxalis at his heels was too short to see through the grass, only the tips of her yellow back-flowers stood out. Saul bumped into Lawrence from behind as the wagon lurched to a halt. The rain beat down a terrible havoc on the cover.

"No use, we can't see a thing!" Pa called back as he and Ma both came in too and drew the flaps closed. Bea did the same in the rear, while Caleb lit the lanterns. Another gust of wind shook the whole frame.

"Donald," Caleb called, "With that wind, we should tie it down!"

"Agreed." He fished out some ropes from a bag. "Eleanor, Felix, get your coats on."

"I'll help too, Pa," Beatrice said, putting on her cape.

"Everyone, be careful. This storm is not one to be trifled with."

Bea let down the rear gate so they could all clamber out. The humans got to work pounding stakes and lashing down the wagon. At Ma's request, Saul unhitched Oscar, then picked up a hammer himself. Felix had been right, the Sasquash was good at pounding things. The Florabeasts that were inside hopped down too, the larger ones shielding the littles from the rain.

"Oh, Bertrand, come back!" Mattie called after her Broccoleap. "Uncle Caleb, why are they going outside?"

"I reckon they know what's best. Their roots will be a sight stronger than our best tie-downs, no matter the storm. Look, they're all shuffling under the wagon, the biggest ones are plugging up the openings."

"I hope you're right..."

The family hadn't practiced securing the wagon as much as breaking camp, but they got it done quick nonetheless. Soon six people were huddled inside, Pa leading them in a Rosary, while eight Florabeasts packed underneath. The storm was going to get worse before it got better, that was plain to anyone. The rain stopped falling down, going sideways instead.

Carson screeched out a warning. As the sky expert, he could tell what was coming. The wagon trembled and shook, even with the lines, then something cracked. Lawrence and Oscar shielded them as best they could, Saul holding onto the axle from below and using his roots to stay steady. Wilhemina raced around their tiny shelter, Helena had balled up and wouldn't come out. Alice swished her grassy tail and looked at the tiny Broccoleap.

He twitched his nose, closed his eyes, and trembled. All his florets opened at once as he entered landrace. The light from within filled the little space, calming the worriers down as it flowed into the ground.

To really understand what happened next, you have to really understand Florabeasts. Despite all the bark and bluster, all the mossy fur, leafy feathers, and scaly bark, they're just plants. All plants were designed from the start to give part of themselves, whether fruit, fiber, or wood, so something else could live and thrive. That giving is just as much a part of their nature as the moving and sensing. So, it makes a lot of sense that they could give that movement away too.

Each of the beasts under the wagon settled down, putting out as many roots as they could, which always soothed them anyway. Those roots pooled together, lending their light and their strength to little Bertrand's. Some beasts got stronger while in landrace, others faster, and some gained a kind of spiritual strength instead. They had all felt the trees nearby, still close, but they couldn't reach them in time.

Flowing along through the network of other roots that held up the whole prairie, they touched a tree, one by one, and let it share in that miracle of motion that set Florabeasts apart. The scrubby aspens and ashes lifted up their trunks, feeling the ground around them for the first time. They inched their way toward the travelers, too slowly, so the Florabeasts opened up the tap a little more. Binding their roots together more tightly, giving more freely. They'd definitely feel it the next day, but if they didn't hurry the trees up, they might be compost before tomorrow came.

Inside, Mattie lay nestled up against her Pa. "What will we do?" she squeaked, as another rib of the frame cracked.

"We've done all we can." He held her head close to his chest. "Those ropes are woven with Spinnich silk, and we've sent up our strongest prayers, too. All we can do now is hope." Pa's harmonica was in his pocket, so he shifted around and played a song that always calmed her down.

After what seemed like hours, Ma looked up from her huddle with Felix and Bea. "There now, it sounds like the wind is dying down. Thanks be to God."

Once the adults declared it safe to leave, the children's first thought was for their companions. Mattie dashed past her brother. "Oh, look, they're all under the wagon, just like you said, Uncle Caleb! Rooted down like it's nighttime."

She was so focused on what was under the wagon that she didn't notice what was around it. The adults stared at the trees that surrounded them.

"Donald, what am I looking at?" she asked her husband.

"Trees."

"Were they there when we went inside the wagon?"

"I don't reckon they were…"

"Oh Bertrand, you're safe!" Mattie crawled over the pile of plants to get to her very own. She held him tight, then saw the spectacle for herself. "My land, where did those trees come from?" The critter in her arms squeaked. "What?" She stared at him, like she'd never seen him before. Though her bond was still developing, and she was still young herself, she could feel the pride and accomplishment radiating off Bertrand like a lamp that had been taken out from under a bushel basket. "You did this? But how?"

"Come on, you slug-a-bed!" Beatrice tugged on her Lilytiger's head. "We need to ride out and get the lay of the land." Lawrence wasn't having it, letting out a huff and curling his flower up against his side.

"Let him rest, Bea," her father said, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Your uncle will send out Carson to see if anyone else nearby needs help. Give the beasts some time to recover, Lord knows they need it. Besides, we aren't going anywhere until Caleb and I can get some of these trees cut down."

"Some of the what?" That arrow-like focus on their beast seemed to run in the family. She looked around, and up. "Mother of vinegar…"

"Watch your tongue, young lady."

Felix held his Wheatzel in his arms, her prickly tail draped over the side. He met Mattie near the front of the wagon. "Mattie, I think… our beasts brought the trees to us, somehow."

"I think so too. Bertrand all but told me so, in my head."

"Me too. I mean, Willie did, but no matter. How in the world did they do it?"

"I don't know." She could see a rainbow up above the crowns of their shields. She pointed it out, all four of them looked up too. "But maybe we aren't meant to. Maybe we're just meant to hope."