"We can help each other," Klaus said. "We have your inventions, and Quigley's maps, and my research."
"And we're all very well-read," Quigley said. "That should be enough to solve any mystery."
Violet sighed, and kicked at something that lay on the ashen ground. It was the small shell of a pistachio nut, blackened from the fire that destroyed the headquarters. "It's like we're members of V.F.D. already," she said. "We're sending signals, and breaking codes, and finding secrets in the ruins of a fire."
"Do you think our parents would be proud of us," Klaus asked, "for following in their footsteps?"
"I don't know," Violet said. "After all, they kept V.F.D. a secret."
"Maybe they were going to tell us later," Klaus said.
"Or maybe they hoped we would never find out," Violet said.
"I keep wondering the same thing," Quigley said. "If I could travel back in time to the moment my mother showed me the secret passageway under the library, I would ask her why she was keeping these secrets."
"That's one more mystery," Violet said sadly, and looked up at the slippery slope. It was getting later and later in the afternoon, and the frozen waterfall looked less and less shiny in the fading sunlight, as if time were running out to climb to the top and see who had been signaling to them. "We should each investigate the mystery we're most likely to solve," she said. "I'll climb up the waterfall, and solve the mystery of the Verdant Flammable Device by learning who's up there, and what they want. You should stay down here, Klaus, and solve the mystery of the Verbal Fridge Dialogue, by learning the code and discovering what the message is."
"And I'll help you both," Quigley said, taking out his purple notebook. "I'll leave my commonplace book with Klaus, in case it's any help with the codes. And I'll climb up the waterfall with you, Violet, in case you need my help."
"Are you sure?" Violet asked. "You've already taken us this far, Quigley. You don't have to risk your life any further."
"We'll understand," Klaus said, "if you want to leave and search for your siblings."
"Don't be absurd," Quigley said. "We're all part of this mystery, whatever it is. Of course I'm going to help you."
The two Baudelaires looked at one another and smiled. It is so rare in this world to meet a trustworthy person who truly wants to help you, and finding such a person can make you feel warm and safe, even if you are in the middle of a windy valley high up in the mountains. For a moment, as their friend smiled back at them, it seemed as if all the mysteries had been solved already, even with Sunny still separated from them, and Count Olaf still at large, and the abandoned V.F.D. headquarters still in ashes around them. Just knowing that they had found a person like Quigley Quagmire made Violet and Klaus feel as if every code made sense, and every signal was clear.
Violet stepped forward, her fork-assisted climbing shoes making small, determined noises on the ground, and took Quigley's hand. "Thank you," she said, "for volunteering."
Chapter Ten
Violet and Quigley walked carefully across the frozen pool until they reached the bottom of the waterfall. "Good luck!" Klaus called, from the archway of the ruined library. He was polishing his glasses, as he often did before embarking on serious research.
"Good luck to you!" Violet replied, shouting over the rush of the mountain winds, and as she looked back at her brother, she remembered when the two siblings were trying to stop the caravan as it hurtled down the mountain. Klaus had wanted to say something to her, in case the drag chute and the mixture of sticky substances hadn't worked. Violet had the same feeling now as she prepared to climb the frozen waterfall and leave her brother behind at the ashy remains of the V.F.D. headquarters. "Klaus —" she said.
Klaus put his glasses on and gave his sister his bravest smile. "Whatever you're thinking of saying," he said, "say it when you return."
Violet nodded, and tapped the candelabra against a spot on the ice. She heard a deep thunk! as if she were tapping something very solid. "We'll start here," she said to Quigley. "Brace yourself."
The expression "brace yourself," as I'm sure you know, does not mean to take some metal wiring and rivets and other orthodontic materials and apply them to your own teeth in order straighten them. The expression simply means "get ready for something that will probably be difficult,"and it was indeed very difficult to climb a frozen waterfall in the middle of a windswept valley with nothing but a candelabra and a few well-placed forks to aid the two children in their climb. It took a few moments for Violet and Quigley to work her invention properly, and push the forks into the ice just far enough to hold them there, but not so far that they would be permanently stuck, and once both of them were in position, Violet had to reach up as far as she could and tap the candelabra on the ice above them to find the next solid place to climb. For the first few steps, it seemed like ascending the icy slope in this manner would be impossible, but as time went on, and the two volunteers grew more and more skillful with the fork-tipped climbing shoes and the candelabra ice-tester, it became clear that once again Violet's inventing skills would carry the day, a phrase which here means "enable Violet Baudelaire and Quigley Quagmire to climb up a frozen waterfall after bracing themselves for the difficult journey."
"Your invention is working," Quigley called up to Violet. "These fork-assisted climbing shoes are marvelous."
"They do seem to be working," Violet agreed, "but let's not celebrate just yet. We have a long way to go."
"My sister wrote a couplet about that very thing," Quigley said, and recited Isadora's poem:
"Celebrate when you're half-done, And the finish won't be half as fun."
Violet smiled, and reached up to test the ice above her. "Isadora is a good poet," Violet said, "and her poems have come in handy more than once. When we were at the Village of Fowl Devotees, she led us to her location by hiding a secret message in a series of couplets."
"I wonder if that's a code she learned from V.F.D.," Quigley said, "or if she made it up herself."
"I don't know," Violet said thoughtfully. "She and Duncan were the first to tell us about V.F.D., but it never occurred to me that they might already be members. When I think about it, however, the code she used was similar to one that our Aunt Josephine used. They both hid a secret location within a note, and waited for us to discover the hidden message. Maybe they were all volunteers." She removed her left fork-assisted climbing shoe from the ice, and kicked it back in a few inches up to further her climb. "Maybe all our guardians have been members of V.F.D., on one side or the other of the schism."
"It's hard to believe," Quigley said, "that we've always been surrounded by people carrying out secret errands, and never known it."
"It's hard to believe that we're climbing a frozen waterfall in the Mortmain Mountains," Violet replied, "and yet, here we are. There Quigley, do you see the ledge where my left-fork is? It's solid enough for both of us to sit for a moment and catch our breath."
"Good," Quigley said. "I have a small bag of carrots in my backpack we can eat to regain our energy." The triplet climbed up to where Violet was sitting, on a small ledge scarcely the size of a sofa, and slid so he was sitting next to her. The two climbers could see th
at they had traveled farther than they'd thought. Far below them were the blackened ruins of the headquarters, and Klaus was only a small speck near a tiny iron archway. Quigley handed Violet a carrot, and she bit down on it thoughtfully.
"Sunny loves raw carrots," Violet said. "I hope that she's eating well, wherever she is."
"I hope my siblings are eating well, too," Quigley said. "My father always used to say that a good meal can cheer one up considerably."
"My father always said the same thing," Violet said, looking at Quigley curiously. "Do you think that was a code, too?"
Quigley shrugged and sighed. Small bits of ice from the waterfall fell from the ends of forks and blew away in the wind. "It's like we never really knew our parents," he said.
"We knew them," Violet said. "They just had a few secrets, that's all. Everyone should keep a few secrets."
"I suppose so,' Quigley said, "but they might have mentioned that they were in a secret organization with a headquarters hidden in the Mortmain Mountains."
"Maybe they didn't want us to find out about such a dangerous place," Violet said, peering off the ledge, "although if you have to hide a headquarters, it's a beautiful place to do it. Aside from the remains of the fire, this is a very lovely view."
"Very lovely indeed," Quigley said, but he was not looking at the view beneath him. He was looking beside him, where Violet Baudelaire was sitting.
Many things have been taken from the three Baudelaires. Their parents were taken, of course, and their home was taken from them, by a terrible fire. Their various guardians were taken from them, because they were murdered by Count Olaf or were simply miserable guardians who soon lost interest in three young children with nowhere to go. The Baudelaires' dignity was taken from them, on the occasions when the siblings were forced to wear absurd disguises, and recently they had been taken from one another, with the kidnapped Sunny doing chores at the top of the frozen waterfall while Violet and Klaus learned the secrets of V.F.D. at the bottom. But one thing that was taken from the Baudelaires that is not often discussed is their privacy, a word which here means "time by oneself, without anyone watching or interfering.' Unless you are a hermit or half of a pair of Siamese twins, you probably enjoy taking the occasional break from members of your family to enjoy some privacy, perhaps with a friend or companion, in your room or in a railway car you have managed to sneak aboard. But since that dreadful day at Briny Beach, when Mr. Poe arrived to tell the Baudelaires that their parents had perished, the three children had scarcely had any privacy at all. From the small, dark bedroom where they slept at Count Olaf's house, to the crowded caravan at Caligari Carnival, and all of the other woeful places in between, the Baudelaires' situation was always so desperate and cramped that they were rarely able to spare a moment for a bit of private time.