Quillan’s Moat-Side Surprise — Every day, Quillan delivered maps across the bridge before the breakfast gong, tapping each square stone with his boot: clack, clack, clack. Read the full story →
Every day, Quillan delivered maps across the bridge before the breakfast gong, tapping each square stone with his boot: clack, clack, clack. He liked the route because the guards knew his whistle, the flags snapped hello, and the moat smelled like wet reeds and frog mud. Until one day, the drawgate stuck halfway up, and a sign dangled from it: GO AROUND, IF YOU DARE.
Because of that, Quillan stomped to the cattails, where the water made sneaky plip-plip sounds. Because of that, he noticed one reed standing straighter than a spear. He tugged it, and a tiny door popped open in the bridge wall, releasing three wooden ducks, a puff of flour, and the missing gate handle. “Aha,” said Quillan, wiping his nose.
At last, he carried the handle back, opened the gate, and marched in powdered but proud. The guards cheered; the ducks waddled after him like royal advisers. If you spot the stiffest reed by the moat, you’ll know where Quillan’s clack, clack, clack truly belonged.
