Mystery of the Brightville Vanishing:Part Four

     It seemed that Lou was really intent on convincing Orlitz that he was not a suspect. From his fold-out table, he picked up a brochure different from the one before, and gave it to her. This one was of cardboard paper, and the front fold had the image of (what Orlitz assumed were) Brightville blueprints. “Brightville’s Inspiring History,” was printed on the front.

     “There’s a map of the tunnels inside,” he said, “it’s pretty small and really only hypothetical, but if you do find the entrance, it might be helpful.” Orlitz thanked Lou and pocketed the map. If she found the entrance. It was a big if.

     Again, Lou emphasised that he wanted to help, and hoped that Erin would turn up again. A clock at the edge of the plaza chimed 4pm.

     “I have to start packing up, I only have permission to be here until 4:30,” he explained, “but you can find me again in the plaza tomorrow.” Then, with some chagrin in his voice, “it will be my last chance to gather enough signatures to stop the demolition.” He picked up the clipboard now: the quantity of pledges was sad to look at. “Not that I’ll have much luck tomorrow.”

     Orlitz and Iskeen wished the Speckled draik a good rest of his day and left the plaza, meandering back the way they came. By now, all indications that it had rained during the morning were gone. The Brightvalian cobblestone paths held only the remains of a few tiny puddles, and the sky was clear, apart from some clouds dotting the horizon. In lieu of the rain, a crisp wind had picked up. Orlitz could hear it now, snaking through the trees and rattling the leaves above her. Her own hair fluttered in the wind, and she wrapped her trench coat tightly around her to shield from the cold.

     Orlitz wanted to step into the Brightvale Guard outpost in order to look into Lou’s alibi, and that meant passing by Brightville once again, its gates closed tight as ever. As the pair rounded the corner to the park, they saw those very gates open a crack, and a Lenny wriggle out.

     She was Blue, but the feathers on her head, which fell down the length of her neck like willowy strands of hair, had been dyed a dazzling shade of magenta. She was already tall, and the heeled boots on her feet gave her an air of supreme arrogance. She wore a trench coat. On it: a visitor badge.

     “Reporter,” muttered Orlitz. “I thought the Neopian Times was running an exclusive, but it looks like someone else might have beaten us to the scoop.” The two approached the Lenny, who looked down at them through thick-

     rimmed glasses.

     “Hi, are you Orlitz Livia? Sophia Grigsby mentioned a Cybunny roaming around the premises, I assume you are she?”

     Orlitz replied in the affirmative, and the Lenny shook her hand, “Nora Sparks, Brightvale Gazette! A source told me that someone went missing inside the park this morning, which is why I’m out here (don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of stealing a Neopian Times scoop).” Orlitz said nothing. How did strangers already know that Erin had disappeared? “This story, on the other hand, practically writes itself: Juvenile Reporter Missing Hours Before Historic Amusement Park is to be Destroyed!” Nora stretched her wing out before her, as if the text were right there, in front of her.

     “It’s dramatic, it’s perfect—all this time I’ve been looking for a scoop to make my career, and this might be it!” She knelt slightly before Orlitz, but was still inches taller than her, “and I’d love to have an exclusive interview with you, Orlitz!”

     The Cybunny was stupefied. But before she could think of a few choice words to spit at the Lenny, Iskeen interjected: “we actually have a, ah… meeting of our own to be on time for, so the interview would have to wait… indefinitely.”

     Nora huffed a feather from her eyes. “It’s up to you, but I definitely want to speak again with you later!” She turned on her heels, “and thank Erin for me, if you see her again. What a story!”

     “I’d love to have a talk with you too,” Orlitz muttered under her breath. She was livid. Back when the Cybunny worked for The Scholar, another small Brightvalian news publication, the Brightvale Gazette had constantly rivalled her own stories. The paper specialized in sensationalism and staged events. She’d often heard rumors that its reporters caused newsworthy events to happen, framing suspects and wrecking havoc, rather than informing the public. In short: Orlitz hated the Gazette.

     Iskeen quickly ushered Orlitz away from the park to avoid an altercation that would most certainly have taken place. The two hurried onwards, to the guard outpost. It was there where Orlitz discovered that, as per one guard’s testimony, Lou’s alibi was not as impervious as he had led her to believe. Though he had been in the plaza since nine in the morning, another protester had taken the draik’s place at 9:45. He had returned at 11:30. Lou was therefore unaccounted for for over an hour and a half. That left him ample time to be in Brightville. He may have had something to do with Erin’s disappearance after all.

     “Some alibi,” sighed Iskeen.

     By the time the girls left the outpost, it was already dusk. Drained and famished, they hailed a uni cab and set out for the Livia residence.

     * * * * *

     For dinner, Keon prepared creamy sweet potato soup, which Iskeen devoured with relish. Orlitz did not have much of an appetite, and who could blame her? When the girls had returned home, and when Erin had not been among them, Keon and Elva had instantly deduced that something was gravely amiss. It did not take long for Orlitz to explain to her parents what had transpired at the amusement park that morning, and they listened with rapt concern. When she was finished, Elva offered to contact the Brightvale Guard, but she dismally explained that they would not respond unless, and until, Erin had been missing for 24 hours.

     After everyone had finished eating, Orlitz and Iskeen moved into the study, where Iskeen’s puzzle from earlier this morning still lay, sprawled out on the hardwood floor. As the ixi sat down to once again sort through puzzle pieces, she observed Orlitz. The Cybunny was pensively leaning against the porch door, looking out. The lights were on in the backyard, giving both girls a clear view of the strong winds bending the trees in the garden. Orlitz made a vague comment that there would likely be a storm tonight, but otherwise remained silent. And so Iskeen turned all of her attention back to the puzzle, thinking it best to let her friend contemplate her own dilemma.

     The ixi rifled through the loose puzzle pieces, once more meditating on their place in the picture. All these identical blue pieces looked all the more indistinguishable in the warm light of the study.

     Orlitz did not move from her place at the door.

     Iskeen assembled a cloud from seven pieces.

     Orlitz pressed her forehead on the glass.

     Iskeen gathered three pieces of sky together.

     At one point in the evening, Elva emerged from the kitchen with tea and two slices of almond tart: finally, Orlitz stirred. She accepted the tea and sunk into the armchair nearest Iskeen.

     * * * * *

     Here is what Orlitz knew: there were at least three individuals in or near the park when Erin was kidnapped.

     Here is what Orlitz did not know: whose reasons for kidnapping was most bankable, and which two suspects had reason enough to work together. Setting her tea to the side, the Cybunny found a pen and paper on the coffee table. On it, she drew a chart, with three rows and three columns. In the first column, she wrote: “Sophia Grigsby, Lou Elder, Nora Sparks.” Next, their reasons for taking Erin.

     “Nora would obviously have done it as a publicity stunt for a Gazette headline,” she mused, to no one in particular. For Lou, too, it was easy to determine that he may have been desperate to rescue the park. If Erin was trapped within its perimeter, Brightville’s demolition would not go on as planned. She wrote this down.

     And as for Sophia? Orlitz tapped the tip of the pen on her paper absently. Certainly, she too wanted to save her park, but the chomby had also forbidden Orlitz from letting word get out. She had not wanted more attention for Brightville. She jotted these very musings down.

     “What if Sophia was in cahoots with Nora?” Orlitz jolted upright: Iskeen was leaning over the chair and reading her notes. She hadn’t even noticed the ixi get up. “What if Sophia was saving the publicity of Erin’s disappearance for a specific newspaper, like the Brightvale Gazette? Nora would have gotten the exclusive scoop, and the sudden publicity for the park could give Sophia the revenue to salvage it.”

     “It certainly would give Grigsby a good opportunity to start a donations fund, under the guise of saving Erin,” Orlitz mused right along. She marked the third column: “alibi.” For now, she could only take note of Lou’s, who had lied.

     And then of course, there was the case of Reba and Rey, the Gnorbu and Gelert she had only caught a glimpse of this morning. Surely there was more to their story as well. Orlitz pondered this, but quickly concluded that she would get nowhere else tonight. So, she stood. Tired beyond expression, the Cybunny bade Iskeen and her parents goodnight.

     She was asleep the moment she curled into her bed.

     * * * * *

     Orlitz awoke with a start to the moon trickling soft light through her skylight window. The clock by her bedside read 2:14—much too early to be up. But, closing her eyes yielded no desirable results. Orlitz was plagued with thoughts of Erin, alone in the amusement park, whilst she herself was comfortably wrapped in soft blankets. How could she have left her behind? Erin, a novice journalist had not even had the chance to lead her interview. Orlitz shifted in her bed. Her Gruslen, having determined that the most comfortable place to sleep was on Orlitz’s pillow, shifted as well.

     “It should have been me,” she whispered, again to no one in particular. She kicked off the blankets; everything felt too warm all of a sudden. On the floor, near the edge of her bed, she could hear Iskeen’s faint snores. Carefully, so as not to wake up her roommate, the Cybunny slipped out of bed and stepped lightly over the ixi’s sleeping form. She felt her way to the kitchen.

     In the kitchen, on the slanted ceiling, was a small, crescent-shaped window. Though relatively plain-looking during the day, at night it perfectly captured the moon’s reflections. This was Orlitz’s favorite part of the house, because only a select few could enjoy its tranquility at select hours of the night. Whenever she had trouble sleeping, or whenever a puzzle kept her up at night, this was where she would find refuge. Outside, it was still windy, so clouds would occasionally obscure the moon’s gentle light; still, there was no need to turn on a lamp.

     In this moonlight, Orlitz prepared a mug of hot chocolate, intent on going right back to sleep after she’d finished it. The ceramic cup she had selected was decorated with painted leaves and flowers.

     “Looks like the fountain,” she mused. She took a sip of hot chocolate pondering this, and nearly choked in the process. Not because the beverage was too hot (though it was), but because—

     “The fountain!” Come to think of it, the leaf ornamentation on its basin was similar in style to that which had been carved into the Brightville welcome sign! Lou himself had remarked how the fountain plaza was as old as the park. Could it be that the entrance to the tunnels was there? It was a stretch, but at this point in the night, Orlitz was keen to follow any instinct she felt.

     There was no reason to wake Iskeen up for this, the Cybunny reasoned, rifling through her closet as quietly as possible. The first sweater and trousers she found, she threw on. Next, she rummaged through her bag, so as to ensure that all the essentials—flashlight, camera, notebook, crude map of the tunnels, pen—were in their rightful place. While Iskeen’s sleep went undisturbed, Orlitz knew she had no time to waste. She had only today and Wednesday morning left to find the missing acara. And so this is how she found herself leaving her home at three in the morning, in the cold, en route for Brightville once again. Orlitz knew she’d be back soon, but she left a note on Iskeen’s pillow just in case.

     * * * * *

     Roberta’s Plaza’s proximity to the castle meant that there was a higher concentration of guards here than by Orlitz’s house. She had to be careful. Though there was nothing strictly illegal about poking around a fountain at three in the morning, such an activity could appear highly suspicious to the untrained eye. Luckily, the Cybunny encountered no one on her walk to the plaza, save for a Plushie Kougra who hurriedly left the premises as she approached.

     The lengthy walk allowed the Cybunny’s eyes to grow accustomed to the night. Still, it was difficult to make out the shapes of leaves on the fountain once she entered the plaza. Resisting the urge to use her flashlight (lest she alert some guards patrolling nearby), Orlitz felt along the stone, searching for the grooves where the leaf accents had been etched. Her fingers traced the delicate carvings, following the trail of leaves as it wrapped around the fountain and then onto the cobblestone ground. On her hands and knees, the Cybunny carefully followed this path of stone leaves. It stretched all around the plaza, and then curled around a stone bench nearest the fountain, obscured by shrubs. Here, Orlitz stood, observing where this trail of clues had led her. The etched leaves formed grooves along the back of the bench and stopped at its center, where a commemorative plaque had been installed. Orlitz could dimly make out what was transcribed: “In Memory of Emnor Miranelis, founder of Brightville.”

     “So the fountain is linked to the park,” the Cybunny muttered under her breath. In the moonlight, she did not notice anything unusual about this bench or the leaves... Unless one took the time to observe that the bench was not placed on top of the cobblestones, but rather, that the cobblestones parted ever so slightly around it. Orlitz kneeled at its base. Indeed, the bench appeared to be emerging from beneath the surface. Meanwhile, the neighboring bench had simply been placed onto the stones. Was this the opening she had been searching for? Her heart began to race.

     The Cybunny felt her way around the bench, fingers tracing its stone facade. She explored every inch of it, first feeling along the seat and the back, and then moving behind it. She held her breath when her fingers hit a miniscule metallic stud on the smooth stone near the base of the bench. Carefully, she pressed it. Click!

     A low rumble of some hidden mechanization resonated from beneath her feet. Orlitz could only hope that the ruckus would not alert whatever guards were roaming about the area. With a steady groan, the bench sank into the ground. It lowered a good three feet beneath the surface, and clicked into place at the top of stairs carved into the rock. Sheltered from the moon’s rays, the entrance to the tunnel was pitch black.

     The Cybunny removed the flashlight from her bag and switched it on. She descended the stairs, and the stone bench crept back to its original position as the first drops of rain fell to the ground.

To be continued…