Mystery of the Brightville Vanishing:Part Nine

     "Wait a moment, Or’, start again from the top. Erin was what?” It was Keon who first spoke when he stepped out of the kitchen with a steaming quiche in his hands. He set it on the table, where Orlitz, Iskeen, and Elva were seated.

     Shortly after discovering Erin’s duffel bag (and all of its implications), Iskeen had slumped onto Orlitz’s bed in disbelief. Meanwhile, Orlitz had decided then and there that she needed a vacation from this mystery (however short). So, she let herself melt into a long overdue shower and change into fresh, unwrinkled clothes. She was not, however, able to sleep, so by the time the Cloud cybunny sat down with the rest of her family for dinner, she looked refreshed, but not at all reenlived. Iskeen observed her warily from across the table, taking careful bites from her food. Orlitz looked synchronously relieved, determined, and furious—and who could blame her?

     “I don’t think Erin ever planned on staying with us,” said the cybunny in reply to Keon’s question, “and that means she orchestrated her own disappearance. She wasn’t ever in any danger.” Keon offered her a slice of quiche, but she turned it down. Orlitz reasoned that she shouldn’t eat much before the celebration at Brightville, but Iskeen wondered if she had lost her appetite because of the implications that Erin’s deception brought with it.

     Orlitz laughed abruptly. Iskeen threw her a look of concern. “To think, had I looked inside Erin’s bag the moment she vanished, I would have saved a lot of time!”

     For a few moments, everyone ate in silence, letting the reality of this discovery set in. Then, Orlitz cut through the quiet once more: “The goal hasn’t changed,” she finally said, “I’m still going to find Erin. This is just going to make the story that much more interesting.”

     “But if she’s been manipulating you so long, do you really think that confronting her directly is the best plan of action?” cautioned Iskeen.

     “What can she possibly do? No one’s gotten hurt, I just want to know why she faked her own disappearance.”

     “You got hurt, Orlitz,” the ixi retorted, “you were struck inside the haunted house, remember?”

     Keon and Elva paused. So did Orlitz. Her parents simultaneously turned towards her with worried looks.

     “You were attacked?” Elva ventured.

     “Oh please, I wasn’t seriously injured. It was mostly for show anyway.” Orlitz rose from her chair. “I need to organize my thoughts: Reba has always wanted to manage Brightville. She hates Sophia, and Sophia is being framed. Erin faked her disappearance, and she’s Emnor Miranelis’s granddaughter.” Iskeen’s eyes widened.

     There was that name again! When the ixi had paged through the impressive encyclopedia of Brightvalian landmarks at the Livia Bookstore, she had inadvertently come across a complete entry on Brightville and its founder himself. Within the paragraphs, the text detailed interviews of Emnor’s vision for his park, and importantly, his plans for it after it was built. Indeed, the ixi had read the entry with great interest; she’d found it so interesting, in fact, that she had read it a second time.

     “I think I have an idea as to why Erin might have wanted to cause a scandal,” she offered slowly. Orlitz perked her ears: “Emnor was interviewed at some point, when he was still alive, and he explicitly mentioned how he wanted his park to be passed down within the family. I don’t think this wish ever changed.”

     Orlitz’s sank back into her seat. Her hazel eyes were wide: she finally understood. “Sophia Grigsby is definitely not family. If Erin feels entitled to Brightville, or has some familial bond with it, she’d want to save it.”

     Iskeen set her fork down onto the plate—perhaps a little too forcibly, as it clattered onto the floor. “And, what better way to save Brightville than by freezing the demolition project and creating a scandal surrounding Sophia—”

     “—by framing her as the kidnapper, and propelling me towards the fake evidence to write an incriminating article. If Reba is working with Erin, they could be stopping the demolition and getting back at Sophia for letting the park down and for going against Emnor’s will!” Orlitz shot up excitedly, sending her own fork flying.

     “You’re a genius!” she shouted. The cybunny shook with exultation. All the while, Keon and Elva’s gazes flickered between both girls, unsure of what to say. Keon was distraught, because the falling forks might be inflicting irreparable damage to his dishes.

     “Does this mean the mystery is solved?” ventured Elva. She remained seated, and took a careful sip from her glass, wary of any more flying silverware.

     “Not yet,” said Orlitz, “but I absolutely need to find Erin and confirm everything but—oh! Imagine what would happen if this story were to break in the Times!”

     * * * * *

     In her room, Orlitz made final adjustments to her appearance. Difficult as it was not to look haggard, she managed to finesse her makeup in such a way so as to give the illusion that she was well-rested. She was all done up for the banquet: with her yellow lace dress and her baby blue hair styled into soft waves, the cybunny was the picture of elegance, and would have no trouble fitting in with the other esteemed guests. Iskeen sat on her bed, absently petting the sleeping Gruslen in her lap. Neither girl spoke, but the excitement in the room was palpable.

     The sting of Erin’s deceit was still fresh. Orlitz had not known the acara for long, Erin having joined the Neopian Times Mystery Island branch only a few months ago. That said, they had collaborated on several news reports back on the island, and Orlitz had always considered Erin to be a reliable and ambitious journalist. They might even have become close friends.

     The cybunny tucked a final strand of hair into a hair clip, and paused at her reflection in the mirror. How long had Erin been planning this great scheme? She remembered uncovering the first ransom note in the visitor center yesterday morning: the note had specified that “the acara” would be returned once the park was saved. It could be that Erin had prepared the decoupage of letters long before she and Orlitz even set foot in Brightvale. Surely, no kidnapper would go so far as to specify their victim’s species in the short time they had to create the ransom note.

     In any case, none of this mattered anymore. Now that Orlitz knew Erin had not been kidnapped, every clue pointed to that obvious conclusion. She sighed and reached for her purse. Tonight would certainly be very interesting.

     * * * * *

     When Orlitz approached the entrance to the amusement park, Brightvale was basking in the receding light of sunset, as though the whole kingdom had been painted with vibrant crimson and golden brushstrokes. Brightville, now returned to a glimmer of its former glory, drank in the sun’s final rays, and the cybunny let out a sigh of wonder.

     The amusement park had been made new again. As night descended, it glowed like a beacon. It would offer its guests one final exulting evening before the imminent demolition tomorrow morning would extinguish its spark for good. Even the park’s entry archway had been embellished with string lights. Orlitz had noticed the decorations earlier in the day, but now, with the sun nearly vanished, they looked stunning, dotting the wooden carvings in iridescent sparkles.

     A growing queue of distinguished guests trickled underneath the archway and into the park. A multitude of guards, stationed at the front gates, were checking invitations and keeping a wary eye on the crowd of protestors positioned beside the arch. Orlitz placed herself in line and gave her dress one final, nervous tug. If she couldn’t find and talk sense into Erin...well, then what?

     She turned towards Iskeen and her family (all of which had insisted on accompanying Orlitz). She was grateful for their concern. As Erin was evidently working with Reba—and because of Reba’s volatile nature—no one could be sure how the night would transpire. And so, on the way to Brightville, Orlitz had explained, in great detail, the mechanisms for entering the park’s underground passageways. If anything happened to Orlitz during the night, her family could use the tunnels and enter the park. Just in case.

     They were now approaching the front of the line. Orlitz held her invitation firmly in her hands. The other side of the paper had the itinerary for the night, something which she had anxiously read again and again after dinner. Most of the festivities would be gathered in or near Hagan’s Grove tonight, and it occurred to her that the bistro was also attached to the tunnels.

     She gestured towards Iskeen, who was standing a few paces away with her parents.

     “I need you to wait for me in the tunnels under the restaurant,” she whispered once the ixi was within earshot, “if anything happens, I’ll find the trapdoor and knock.” Iskeen nodded, understanding. Moments later, she, Keon, and Elva left for Roberta Plaza, and Orlitz was waved into Brightville.

     * * * * *

     Brightville’s main square, flanked by enormous oak trees and the restaurant, was already populated with dozens upon dozens of guests dressed with varying degrees of formality. In anticipation of the rain, canopy tents had been pitched along the circumference of the event site, under which ample seating had been provided. The tents were ablaze in the glow of hanging orb lights. These garlands wrapped around the tents and up into the trees, creating the illusion that stars had been sprinkled into their foliage.

     Esteemed members of the Brightvale court, reporters, officiates, and a slew of wealthy neopians milled about the tents as hissi servers snaked (literally, snaked) through the crowds while balancing trays of decadent hors d'oeuvres. Orlitz noticed that one particular tent, surrounded by guards on every side, had been separated from the rest by long, opaque curtains adorned with the royal seal. Orlitz could trace a few fuzzy silhouettes behind the veil, and she briefly wondered if King Hagan’s royal entourage was in attendance. But now wasn’t the best time to faun over celebrities. She pressed onwards, towards Hagan’s Grove.

     The restaurant’s facade was lined with pots of ornate flowers and golden streamers, all of which were illuminated by hundreds of candles. Inside, a band played lively music and guests swayed to the rhythm. Orlitz maneuvered her way through the crowds until she found an empty spot at a table in the corner. Soon, the event would begin in earnest—speeches would be made, dinner would be served… all the cybunny could do now was wait for something to happen.

     It did not take long before the band strummed through one final number and conversations diminished to a low hum. By now, everyone had moved into the restaurant from the outside, and the room was truly packed. In spite of this, Orlitz noticed Sophia Grigsby right away—well, how could she miss her? The chomby was draped in a glittering green frock. The audience gasped as the tinsel embroidered into her dress caught the light and shimmered in every direction. Sophia had made every effort to make tonight as unforgettable as possible. When she pushed her way to the stage, Orlitz ducked her head behind a menu.

     “Ladies and gentlemen, neopians of all esteemed corners of Neopia… I would first like to express my deepest gratitude in your sharing this night with me, to celebrate the journey of our most beloved Brightville,” she said into the microphone, “we have worked very hard to make tonight unforgettable, and to honor our park’s miraculous history…”

     The speech went on. Sophia spoke of Brightville’s long history and presented several formal thank-yous to rousing applause. The chomby briefly dwelled on Emnor Miranelis and the park’s founding family, but no mention was made of Erin’s disappearance. Following the speech, dinner was served, and the audience trickled out to go on the functioning park rides. Orlitz stayed behind while the restaurant emptied and soon, only a few musicians remained.

     “Miss?” For one brief, alarming moment, Orlitz was afraid Sophia had uncovered her and had sent guards to dispose of the uninvited guest. When she turned, however, she saw the kind, albeit mildly confused, gaze of Rey Wilde. The Spotted gelert approached where she sat, a guitar in his hands, “I didn’t realize you had an invitation for tonight.”

     “Well, I think they gave invitations to all the reporters,” Orlitz fumbled. “Actually Rey, I’m wondering if you could help me… Please,” she added quickly. Rey waited for Orlitz to continue. “Do you know if the restaurant also has an entrance into the tunnels?”

     To her great relief, Rey did not press Orlitz for questions. He shot her a mildly bemused look, and gestured towards a potted shrub near the kitchen doors. “Behind the plant, but you can’t get in from the outside.”

     “That’s alright Rey, thank you.” The gelert simply nodded. “By the way, did you find somewhere new to play now that Brightville is, well… over?”

     “No, I haven’t yet. Hope it doesn’t take me too long to find a new gig though.”

     “Oh, I see,” said Orlitz. A tense moment passed where neither of them spoke, and Rey returned to the stage to pack instruments. The cybunny was compelled to reassure Rey, to tell him that she would help him find other performing opportunities. She would have done just that too, but then the parkwide loudspeaker system sprung to life, and Orlitz froze.

     “It’s delightful that all you esteemed guests are having such a wonderful time here in Brightville tonight,” a feminine voice announced over the loudspeakers, “but have you forgotten that a victim exists in your midst, trapped in your beloved amusement park?”

     There was no mistaking it: the voice belonged to Erin. Orlitz bolted outside. The guests had stilled to listen: a few looked horrified, others grinned uncomfortably, unsure of what to make of this joke. Most, however, appeared confused.

     “Need we remind you that, unless the demolition is halted, your friend will remain trapped in the crumbling walls? What a devastating legacy to leave behind...” A tremor of bewilderment rolled through the crowd.

     Orlitz strained to listen. There was another noise, faintly perceptible underneath the booming voice. She could almost detect the chipper jingle of a carousel organ. A carousel organ?

     “The threats are empty!” she cried out, trying to appease the crowd “no one is trapped in the park!” Orlitz caught Sophia’s steely gaze. She saw the chomby begin to push her way towards her, but the cybunny ran back into the restaurant and nearly collided with the wall in the back of the salon. She shoved the potted plant to the side and frantically pounded on the panelling.

     “Iskeen, if you’re back there, let me in!” she hissed. Rey and the other musicians paused to look at her with immense concern. Thankfully, Iskeen had indeed found her way into the tunnels, and following a few more hectic knocks, the hidden door sprang open and Orlitz clambered through it.

     “Did you hear that?” said Iskeen.

     “Yeah, that was Erin, she’s by the Brightvale Carousel,” said Orlitz without stopping. The pair ran as quickly as they could. They tripped over uneven ground and skidded across loose dirt. Orlitz felt her dress strain in protest at the sudden rise in physical activity, and solemnly promised herself to never wear a dress if ever she found herself chasing down kidnappers again.

     “Over here!” Iskeen gestured. They approached a sign to the carousel, and the ixi pulled the lever to trigger the door as Orlitz skittered up the steps to the exit. She strained to hold the door open while Iskeen followed her outside.

     * * * * *

     In the dark clearing, the Brightvale Carousel shimmered with multicolored lights. Many guests had since dispersed following the unsettling speech over the loudspeakers, and so the ride revolved on its own. Aside from its cheerful jingle, the place was still. Iskeen following closely behind Orlitz as the pair approached the structure. It was reminiscent of the Roo Island merry-go-round, only Brightville’s carousel was adorned with carved draiks and dragoyles. They were elegantly painted in jewel tones, and they orbited buoyantly around the center pole and organ.

     Behind the carousel, Iskeen could see the looming structure of the ferris wheel rising over the trees. Its twenty spokes traveled lazily around the hub. Like the carousel, it too was largely empty. A shiver ran up her spine. Where had all the guests gone?

     The pair quietly followed the path rounding the perimeter of the carousel, but found nothing of interest. They continued onwards, towards the ferris wheel.

     Laughter cut through the silence and the girls froze. Erin? They hurried into the small woods lining the path and gingerly traveled forward until the ferris wheel’s boarding platform came into view. Now, they could see two figures, presumably Erin and Reba, in the glow of multicolored lights. They were standing beside a control panel, which Iskeen assumed was also being used to speak through the loudspeakers.

     Orlitz turned towards her: “Let’s get closer, I want to hear what they say.” So long as the cybunny did not leap out to confront the crooks, Iskeen was content to follow. They gingerly picked their way through the plants until they were within earshot.

     “The protestors will definitely have heard the announcement, I bet they’re already clambering to get into the park.” That was Erin speaking. Iskeen suppressed a gasp: through their position behind a bush, the ixi could see that she was in perfect health.

     “We’ll make another announcement in a bit, I just want the crowd to get angry.” The Pink acara ran a hand through her thick brown coils of hair. “We’re almost at the finish line, Reba. We just have to keep this up a little longer. As long as the crowd and protestors resist the demolition, they’ll have to stall it.”

     “But for how long?” demanded Reba. She was pacing on the platform.

     “We won’t need much longer. After tomorrow, I’ll reappear and claim that Sophia held me against my will. Then I can reclaim my park.” Erin leaned against the railing. She was the picture of nonchalance, but the gnorbu appeared significantly more agitated.

     “And I’ll be park manager,” said Reba.

     “Yes…” answered Erin. Was it Iskeen’s imagination, or did she detect a hint of exasperation in the acara’s voice?

     “Well, what now?” Iskeen said, turning back towards Orlitz.

     “One of us has to go back to the entrance and get the guards,” she whispered, “I’ll stay here and follow them in case they go anywhere.” Orlitz shifted her weight—a catastrophic mistake, because as she did so, her foot pressed into a dried branch and it snapped with a resounding crack.

     Everyone froze. Well, everyone except for Reba, who jumped over the ferris wheel barrier and marched directly to where Iskeen and Orlitz were hiding.

     The tussle that ensued was a blur to Iskeen. The stout gnorbu dragged the girls out of the foliage with remarkable strength. By then, Erin had rushed towards them as well.

     “Orlitz, Iskeen?” she exclaimed, confusion and fright flashing across her features. All traces of nonchalance had vanished.

     “They were spying on us!” spat Reba, “what should we do with them?” Erin hesitated. This momentary lapse in judgement provided Iskeen with the opportunity to twist out of Reba’s grasp. Before the gnorbu could react or grab her again, the ixi broke into a sprint, away from the ferris wheel, away from danger. She didn’t turn back but barreled blindly towards the entrance.

To be continued…