The bang of Atta's gavel echoed throughout the council chamber. It was a sound rarely heard these days, similar to the almost forgotten bellow of snail horns that had once warned Ant Island of Hopper's impending arrival. There was no need for those horns now that the grasshoppers were gone.
In fact, there was hardly even a need for council meetings anymore.
These days, Flik and Atta made most of the major decisions affecting the colony between the two of them, behind closed doors. Once they came to an agreement, they then brought their proposal to the individual council members for their signatures of approval. In addition to the queen, the royal council consisted of five members: Thorny, Cornelius, Soil, Flora, and—as of almost four seasons ago now, shortly after the Queen's passing—Manny.
It was a system that worked well for everyone. No one missed those chaotic meetings of the past, when everyone talked over everyone else for two hours straight only to end up with almost nothing to show for it.
Today was an exception.
Today Atta had called an emergency council meeting, the first one held since Flik himself stood on trial for upsetting Hopper's offering (and subsequently upsetting Hopper himself) two springs ago. Today the six insects were gathered beneath the achingly bright mushroom that served as the chamber's light source, and their purpose was not to discuss agricultural policies or trade agreements or fund allocation.
Boring as those topics were, Flik would have preferred any of them over the reason this meeting had actually been called.
Thorny's gruff voice broke through his reverie.
"So what happened to her?" he demanded, his tone almost implying that Atta herself had something to do with Dot's disappearance. "Where on the Island could she have gone?"
A long pause followed the engineer's question. For the first time since the meeting started about twenty minutes ago—when Atta uttered the words "missing princess" and the room devolved into mayhem—the council chamber was silent.
All eyes were on the queen.
Flik knew with one glance at his wife's pale face that she was doing everything in her power not to cry. Her lips were pressed together as she stared down at the gavel in her hand, her chest rising and falling with measured breaths. All he wanted was to stand up, march across the room, and wrap her in a hug.
But he couldn't. As prince consort, his job was to sit on the former queen's throne, try not to think too hard about how much he wished it was his mother-in-law still sitting here instead of him, and give a thoughtful hum every so often as he watched the council proceedings unfold.
Oh, and to hold Aphie. Since the aphid's former owner wasn't here to do it herself.
Flik watched his wife's pregnant belly grow even bigger as she took another deep breath. Her hand was splayed over it, like she was trying to shield the baby inside from the news she was about to deliver.
"We have reason to believe that Dot was taken captive by an enemy kingdom."
The silence following this statement was shorter than the first. Cornelius was the first to break it.
"An enemy kingdom?" the minister scoffed, waving his cane for emphasis. "We have no enemies!"
His declaration was followed by nods and murmurs of agreement from the other councilors—all except for Manny.
"Apparently, we do," Atta said icily. Her tone dared him to challenge her again.
Cornelius pursed his wrinkled lips and said nothing. Mister Soil was the next to speak.
"If I may, Your Highness," the teacher said gently, his kind voice easing the tension that hung like smoke around them. "What reason do we have for this theory?"
Atta picked up a stack of leaf scrolls from the podium before her and began shuffling through them, cursing under her breath when one slipped from her grasp and unfurled itself upon the floor. This was another indicator to Flik that his wife wasn't handling the situation well.
She may have had a messy bedroom, but when it came to royal affairs, Atta always kept her belongings in impeccable order.
Finally, she found what she was looking for. She cleared her throat and began reading.
"Just after sunrise this morning, two of our field workers witnessed Princess Dot entering the clover forest on the south side of the anthill. She was accompanied only by my mother's pet aphid."
Aphie barked from his place in Flik's lap at the mention of his name. Flik stroked the aphid's feelers, wishing desperately that there was some way to see inside the tiny insect's mind to review his memories from the morning. Perhaps that can be my next invention…
His head snapped up at the sound of his own name.
"Our Prince Consort, Flik, had arranged to meet with the princess in his workshop shortly after breakfast hour," Atta was explaining. "When an hour passed and she still hadn't arrived, he sought me out with his concerns. That's when Aphie returned and found us, clearly in a state of distress. He was carrying this."
She reached down to the podium again, then lifted her hand to reveal a small wreath woven from green leaves. A dew-shaped piece of amber sparkled from the center of the largest leaf.
It took the council a total of two seconds to recognize Dot's crown.
Then the chaos began.
Doctor Flora burst into tears. Thorny erupted in a stream of words unfit for young antennae. Cornelius demanded to know where the crown had been found and who would have dared to strip it from a royal ant's scalp. Mister Soil wrung his hands together and babbled about how Dot had been his brightest student and had so much potential for her future.
The only council who kept quiet amidst the turmoil was Manny. He gazed straight ahead, his golden eyes seemingly fixed on something unseen by the rest of them.
After the uproar continued for another full minute, Atta raised her gavel. Before she could bring it down, Mister Soil piped up.
"Please pardon my boldness again, Your Majesty," he said. Flik sensed that the councilor was choosing his words carefully. "Could it be possible that Princess Dot simply lost her crown while wandering through the forest?"
Atta closed her eyes. Flik could see her chest expanding as she breathed in through her nose, then caving in again as she breathed out through her mouth. It was something she did when she needed to stop herself from erupting like Flik's fifth grade science project. When she did it in the middle of an argument, he knew the wisest course of action on his part was to peacefully surrender.
She opened her eyes again. His wife's voice was calm when she spoke, but Flik could see her knuckles growing white as she clenched Dot's crown in her fist.
"My sister doesn't wander. She knows those woods better than any of us. And before we could even consider the extremely unlikely possibility of her getting lost, we discovered an inscription on the inside of her crown."
The word "crown" was hardly out of her mouth when Cornelius's voice roared over hers.
"Desecration!" the minister bellowed. He thrust his cane into the air, nearly knocking a sniffling Flora from her stand in the process. "That crown has been passed down through the royal bloodline for generations!"
Flik swallowed and tightened his hold on Aphie, who let out a low whine and flattened his feelers against his skull. Even he knew what was coming next.
As furious as Flik wanted to be at the old man, all he could feel for him right now was pity.
He chanced a glance at his wife's eyes. They were nearly eclipsed by the blacks of her pupils, but the visible part of Atta's irises were a bright, burning blue.
Her childhood tutor had crossed a line.
The queen turned so she could look directly at Cornelius. The eldest council member stared right back at her, but Flik saw the slight hunch of his shoulders — like he was bracing himself against the invisible arrows flying from her gaze.
Atta spoke in a voice so quiet, Flik had to strain to hear it.
"We're talking about my sister," she said. "Not her crown. I would rather have my own crown be vandalized if it meant Dot's safe return, and I certainly hope the same is true for you."
Her gaze swept across the council. "All of you."
Other than Cornelius, whose gaze was beginning to waver, the only bug brave enough to keep their eyes on her was Manny. Everyone else was staring down at their podiums or at their fidgeting hands.
She allowed the discomfort to stretch on a second or two longer before continuing. "I'll accept your silence as agreement. And with all due respect, Cornelius, if you speak out of turn again, I will ask you to leave this meeting."
A gasp rustled through the chamber. No one had ever threatened Cornelius (or any council member, for that matter) before. It was also the first time Flik had heard Atta address the minister by his first name only, without his title.
Cornelius stared back at her, his still-raised cane trembling violently in his grip. Flik waited for the ant to accuse Atta, who he'd known since she was a pupa, of blatant disregard for authority. In spite of the fact that Flik was admittedly frightened by the cranky old man, he readied himself to defend his wife's honor.
But rather than the indignation or fury he expected, Flik saw a different emotion rising in Cornelius's narrowed eyes.
It was respect.
The minister dropped his gaze to the podium, then slowly lowered both his head and his cane.
"My apologies, Your Highness," Cornelius mumbled. He sounded like a scolded Blueberry. The shock of his fellow council members was palpable.
Atta gave the minister a curt nod before turning to resume the meeting. Flik felt his mouth twist into a proud smile.
That's my queen.
She held Dot's crown up again, her eyes squinting at what was written on the inside of the leaves. Flik already knew the words by heart, but hearing them spoken aloud made his heart lurch like it had the first time he'd read them.
"The message is written in red ink—likely strawberry juice—and it reads: 'I have something precious of yours…'" Atta paused to clear her throat. "'...and I don't feel inclined to give her back. Perhaps you can change my mind.
In the meantime, prepare your troops for the battle of the century.'"
Before reality could sink its cruel stingers into her listeners, she continued on.
"In addition to Princess Dot's absence and this cryptic note, we received some disturbing reports from our engineers. Shortly after Prince Consort Flik left to find me, a group of insects of varying species broke into his workshop. Before our security officers Dim and Rosie could arrive on the scene, these intruders managed to steal several of Flik's blueprints as well as the prototype of one of his latest inventions."
Flik clenched his fists until his fingertips made moon-shaped divots in his palms. He didn't know what this anonymous ant-napper would want with his technology, and he didn't understand why they'd go to such great lengths to steal it when Flik had shown himself willing to share the final products with nearly anyone who asked.
Even so, if giving every last one of his ideas away meant bringing Dot home safely, he would say yes in less time than it took for a heart to beat.
Compared to his little sister, they meant nothing to him.
But the message on Dot's crown hadn't mentioned a ransom. For all Flik knew, the mysterious culprit already had what—and who—they wanted.
Maybe they weren't planning to trade the princess for something else in exchange. Maybe the plan all along was to keep her.
Before Flik's mind could travel farther down this grim path, he was startled by an outburst from Thorny.
"The circus wagon?! What on the Island would someone want with that piece of junk?"
Ah, yes. The circus wagon. That was the third missing piece of the puzzle.
Shortly before Atta made the decision to call the council meeting, while she and Flik were still mid-conversation with the witnesses of the workshop breakin, their friend Heimlich had come bounding up to them. Considering Flik couldn't recall seeing the caterpillar bound ever before in his life, the speed in which he traveled was actually quite impressive.
By the time he reached them from the other end of the tunnel, Heimlich's chubby face was pale and shiny with sweat. It took at least four heavy gasps for air before he had enough breath in his lungs to speak.
"It's gone!" he cried, his thick accent making the news sound even more dire than it was. "Ze circus vagon is gestohlen!"
Back in the present, Manny was responding to his fellow council member's insult.
"It's true that the circus wagon is not the most visually appealing vehicle," the mantis conceded. His gravelly voice was solemn as he continued. "But it is an efficient mode of transportation. Perfect for someone with nefarious intentions who would like to leave in a hurry."
"So who was it?" Mister Soil cut in, wringing his hands together. "Who would have taken our beloved princess, Flik's blueprints, and the circus wagon of all things, all in the same day? And why on earth would they want to fight a colony that doesn't even have an army?"
Atta sighed. Her fingers traced spiraling patterns around her stomach, something Flik had noticed his wife doing often these days. It seemed to have replaced her nervous habit of rubbing her antennae between her fingertips.
"We have no idea," she finally confessed. "Slim, Francis, and Gypsy are launching an investigation as we speak. As far as we can tell, whoever did this left no other clues behind. And the fact that our workshop intruders consisted of multiple species makes it even more difficult to pinpoint a suspect."
"But wouldn't the wagon leave tracks behind?" It was the first time Flora had spoken since dissolving into tears. "Could we follow those to find the culprit?"
"Unfortunately, whoever we're dealing with is someone who thinks ahead. Gypsy was able to trace the wagon tracks all the way to the edge of the riverbed, but when she flew across and found where they picked up on the other side, the trail came to an end after several feet. Someone must have noticed the tracks and started covering them up as they went."
Or they left them there just to taunt us, Flik thought bitterly. His fingernails dug into the soft green flesh of the throne's leafy armrests.
"How could they have crossed the river?" This question came from Thorny. "The circus troupe could only do that because of Dim."
"Although they couldn't identify the species, our witnesses described one of the bugs they saw fleeing the workshop as having wings similar in size to a rhino beetle's," Atta explained. "If that's the case, it's certainly possible that this suspect could be strong enough to carry a wagon."
"So they have their own Dim," Manny murmured.
There was an unbearably long pause as the rest of the council absorbed this information. Finally, Cornelius dared to speak for the first time since being reprimanded.
"So how do we proceed from here?"
Flik ran his fidgety hands along Aphie's antennae as he waited for Atta to respond to the minister. It was the question all of them had been dreading.
Because if they didn't say the answer aloud, they could almost pretend it wasn't true.
He watched as Atta closed her eyes and took a deep, quivering breath. She opened them again, her gaze somewhere far from this room as she broke the news in a quiet voice.
"I don't know."
A wave of shock rippled through her fellow councilors. Flora crumbled into a fresh round of tears as her male counterparts stood with their mouths agape. Only Manny seemed unfazed, his closing eyelids and long exhale the only indication that he'd even heard the queen.
Atta cast her gaze desperately to Flik. Her expression reminded him of a child looking to her parent for comfort in a dark forest, unaware that the grownup she trusted to find the way home was just as lost as she was. It tore at his heart.
Flik took a deep breath and tucked Aphie into the crook of his arm before rising to his feet. Maybe he couldn't lead them out of the forest, but he could at least let her know she wasn't alone.
He cleared his throat.
Five heads swiveled towards him in perfect synchronicity. Despite the seriousness of the matter at hand, Flik couldn't help but be amused by the councilors' expressions. It seemed everyone but Atta and Manny had forgotten he was there.
Flik glanced at Atta, silently requesting her permission to address the council. She gave it with a grateful nod. He took a breath.
"Excuse my interruption," he began, keenly aware of how surreal it felt to hold the council's attention in this way. Despite holding a royal title for four seasons now, deep down Flik still sometimes felt like the ant they'd sent away looking for "warrior bugs" in hopes that he'd never come back.
But one of those very ants was looking at him now, pride glistening in her eyes as she cupped her hand around the pouch carrying his—their—child.
If she believed his voice was worth listening to, perhaps he could believe it himself.
He pressed on. "It's true that as of now, we have no leads on the princess's whereabouts. The insect who left this message didn't give a single clue as to who they could be. And the blueprints for my DNA tracker—which was almost ready for its prototype stage—were among those that were stolen, so any fingerprints left on the crown are useless."
He felt a pang of sadness at this statement. Aside from the project he and Dot were about to start together, the DNA tracker was the invention he'd been most excited about.
Flik pushed the feeling aside and continued. "So yes, we don't know who took the princess, and we don't know what their motivation was. We haven't had any threats since the grasshoppers, and Queen Atta and I can't think of any reason for another kingdom to wage war with us. If anything, we've built only friendships with our neighbors thanks to the trading system.
"But…" He swallowed in an attempt to still the growing tremor in his voice. "With that being said, we're also aware that allowing so many visitors to our island could pose a security threat. And while Queen Atta and I would like to believe that every new bug who steps on our soil comes here with good intentions, we're now forced to consider that this may not always be the case.
Flik gulped again, his mouth dry despite the fact that he was sufficiently hydrated. Invisible fingers clamped around his throat, squeezing until he saw stars. Prickles of guilt spread along the back of his neck as a sinister voice snaked into his consciousness.
Where were you going with that, hm? it whispered with a cackle. Who invited all those strangers here? Whose idea was it to start the trading system? Who was the one that opened Ant Island to these foreigners?
Flik's heartbeat was thundering inside of his brain, drowning out every sound except for the voice steadily rising from a whisper to a roar.
You're standing here like a fool, about to promise these bugs you're going to find their lost princess, when you have no idea where she is yourself.
When she's probably gone because of you.
A hand folded over his own, its warm fingertips pressing into his palm.
Flik opened his eyes to see Atta gazing at him, her blue eyes soft with worry as she mouthed a question whose answer she already knew.
Are you okay?
He squeezed her hand and gave her a lopsided smile.
Of course he wasn't. Neither of them were.
But right now, standing before these insects who were looking to them for reassurance that their princess would be okay, they had to be.
Without a word spoken between them, Atta understood. She gave Flik a wobbly smile of her own, then pivoted to address the council again. Her fingers were still curled around his hand.
"Lady and gentlebugs," she began.
Five pairs of eyes locked onto the queen as she continued speaking, her voice steady as the roots anchoring the tree above them to the island soil.
"Flik and I called this meeting today to inform you of the situation as it unfolds. The hard truth of the matter is that at this moment, we have very little information regarding the whereabouts of my sister, or the circus wagon, or Flik's blueprints.
We believe these three disappearances are connected to each other, and we hope to have more updates for you in the coming hours. If you believe you can assist in the investigation in some way, please don't hesitate to offer your insight. In the meantime…"
She swallowed, allowing a brief pause to go by before continuing.
"What we're really asking for right now are your prayers. Petition the Great Tree to give us a miracle, a clue or lead of some sort. Or, even better, to bring Dot home to us. That's the best any of us can do for her.
And I know that when we do, her—our mother will be listening as well."
Flik heard the catch in Atta's voice when she said 'our,' like the word had snagged on a lump in her throat on its way out. He squeezed her hand a little tighter.
"Thank you all for gathering on such short notice today," she concluded. Her last two words seemed to take every ounce of strength she could summon.
"Meeting adjourned."
The council members exchanged uncertain glances with one another. Finally Cornelius let out a grunt and stepped down from his stool. He hobbled over to Flik and Atta, eyes trained on the soil beneath him, then planted his cane into the ground an inch from their feet before looking up at Atta.
His scowl softened.
"My apologies for overstepping earlier, Your Highness," he said quietly. "Truth be told, I've been out of sorts since we lost our queen."
For a moment the minister's gaze was shrouded by a glassy expression. Flik had no doubt that Cornelius was remembering the intimate relationship he'd shared with Atta's mother, an affair that every member of the colony—even the Blueberries—had known about.
Atta cleared her throat, an amused smile playing along her lips. The elderly ant blinked and harrumphed himself back to attention.
"Anyway," he went on. "When I learned our young princess was absent as well, I forgot myself in the emotion of it all. Please forgive my insolence."
He bowed his head, his antennae trembling with age. Atta dipped her chin so the petals of her crown grazed the ant's head, signifying her pardon.
"All is well, Minister Cornelius," she said softly. "We're all grieving in our own ways, and I've had my share of outbursts as well."
Cornelius chuckled at this, then turned and began limping towards the hole that served as the chamber's exit.
Flik couldn't help but notice that his laugh had been tinged with sadness.
The rest of the council filed out behind the minister in a similar manner, pausing before Atta to offer their sympathy or encouragement (or, in Flora's case, an inaudible string of words choked out between sobs). They all had that look of being lost as they left, like the rest of the anthill had suddenly transformed into an unfamiliar maze they were expected to navigate without a map.
Flik knew the feeling.
Manny was the last to leave. Flik felt an instant surge of relief as the mantis sauntered towards them, his eternally calm presence a balm for the chaos they'd just experienced. Even Atta's stiff shoulders melted into a posture that was . . . almost relaxed.
The final council member reached the base of the stone where Flik and Atta stood. Even with the extra height the platform gave them, he still towered a good three inches above the ants.
Flik watched as Manny slowly reached forward to fold Atta's hands between both of his own. For a moment Flik thought he saw a troubled look in the older insect's eyes, but then he blinked and the mantis was back to wearing his usual serene smile. He bent forward until his lips nearly touched the base of Atta's left antenna.
"You're doing a fine job, my dear," Manny murmured, just loud enough for Flik's feelers to catch. "And I have no doubt the little one will find her way back to us. She's a fighter, that one is."
This was the comment that cracked her.
The other council members had witnessed Queen Atta that morning. Queen Atta was poised, confident, and—other than when Cornelius insinuated that Dot's crown was more important than Dot herself—calm as the riverbed after a drought.
Only Flik and Manny had the chance to see the true Atta: grieving daughter of a deceased queen, older sister of a missing princess.
This Atta collapsed into the mantis's strong arms, then wept until she had no tears left.