Solimar: the Sword of the Monarchs by Pam Muñoz Ryan

Author:Pam Muñoz Ryan [Ryan, Pam Muñoz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Disney Hyperion
Published: 2022-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

The branches above them separated to reveal a platform built around the massive tree and fenced with bamboo and river reeds.

“It’s shaped like the hull of a boat,” said Solimar.

Berto laughed. “Precisely. The trunk is its mast; the canopy of leaves, its sails; and farther up…well, you’ll see.”

Berto pulled another rope.

A ladder descended to the ground.

He scaled the rungs and climbed through the opening to a deck above. He peeked down at her. “Welcome aboard.”

As Solimar quickly climbed up, one of the rungs cracked beneath her boot.

“Don’t worry. I can fix that!” he called, holding out a hand and helping her to the small landing. Berto hoisted the ropes, which lifted the ladder.

Within the leafy cover they were completely sheltered, except for a few dappled patches of sunlight, which Solimar carefully avoided. A row of shelves—long wood planks separated by large rocks—hugged the railing and held a collection of books, their covers and pages weathered and wrinkled.

“This is the library,” he said. “I fished the books from the river. They’re a little worse for their journey, but once I dry them, the pages are wrinkled but entirely readable. And there’s more.” He pointed upward. A narrow wood staircase spiraled around the thick trunk and disappeared.

“Where does it lead?” she asked.

“Come on!”

She followed him up to the cradle of the tree to a much larger landing. One corner was covered with a thatched roof and partially enclosed with a reed partition. Solimar peeked around it.

“Sleeping quarters,” said Berto, nodding to a hammock and a mattress that looked as if it had been made from blankets stuffed with feathers.

The rest of the platform was a shady open-air galley, with a large barrel for a table and two smaller ones for chairs. An upturned crate held a stack of plates, and a tower of teacups, most of them chipped. A metal tub sat on top of a large rock.

“What is this?” she asked, pointing to two ropes strung taut in the kitchen.

“Watch.” He pulled down on one of the ropes, hand over hand, until a small bucket appeared, spilling water into the tub.

“You put all this together from what you’ve found in the river?”

“Yes. Thanks to the Confiscator. The cowbells let me know when something is caught. You’d be surprised at what comes my way. The river just keeps on giving.”

She pointed to more stairs spiraling around the tree. “Where do they go?”

“I’ll show you after you change into some dry clothes.” He handed her a pair of baggy pants and a shirt, much like the ones he was wearing, and sent her behind the partition.

“Your clothes and life vest should be dry by morning,” he called.

As Solimar changed, a soggy Zarita crawled from the pocket. “How much longer must I be quiet?”

“I can’t spring you on him all at once,” said Solimar. “There’s a lot for him to consider first. Stay here? Or hop in?” She pulled open the pocket of the pants.

Zarita’s wings drooped, but she climbed in.

Solimar grabbed the rebozo,

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