Note: These short stories are set in The Magical World of Zealandia, offering glimpses into its adventures and mysteries. While they can be enjoyed on their own, reading Zealandia: The Dreadstones Grasp will provide deeper context and enrich your experience!
The library was one of the most intriguing rooms in the townhouse. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stretched toward the vaulted ceiling, their contents a mix of centuries-old volumes and the occasional comic book left by Tom. The air smelled of aged paper and polished wood, and the atmosphere practically hummed with secrets. It was where Emily sketched or jotted down notes, where Victoria always had her nose buried in a book, and where Alex and Tom came to either nap or get into trouble.
Today was a “trouble” day.
“Do you ever wonder how many secrets this house has?” Tom asked, sprawled on the rug with a pencil he was using to poke at loose knots in the floorboards.
“All the time,” Victoria said from the couch, not looking up from her book.
Emily smirked, glancing up from her notepad. “There’s no mystery to it. This house is full of secrets. Lord Sitka said so.”
“And I bet he told you all of them,” Alex muttered from a chair near the fireplace, flipping lazily through a book. He was skimming so quickly it almost looked like he wasn’t reading at all.
“Not all,” Emily replied. “But he pointed out the important ones. Like the loose panel over there.” She nodded toward the far wall. “It used to hide important documents.”
Tom sat up. “So why haven’t we opened it?”
Emily shrugged. “I already did. It’s empty now.”
“Of course you did,” Alex groaned, snapping the book shut. “How do you know everything about this house?”
“I don’t know everything,” Emily said, smirking. “Just more than you.”
Victoria looked up from her book. “She’s not wrong.”
“That’s it,” Tom said, springing to his feet. “We’re finding something she doesn’t know. This house is supposed to be full of secrets, right?”
Alex leaned back with a troubling grin. “Oh, this will be fun.”
Emily arched an eyebrow. “Good luck. Lord Sitka must have told me everything exciting about this place, or I’ve already found it myself while exploring. There must only be boring things left.”
“Challenge accepted,” Tom declared, pulling random books from the shelf as though one might trigger a secret passage. Alex tapped along the wood-panelled walls, listening for hollow spots.
“You’re going to destroy the place,” Victoria said, watching them over the top of her book.
“Worth it,” Alex muttered, moving a small wooden cabinet positioned against the middle of the windowed wall. The cabinet was sturdy and simple, with a faint sheen of polish that reflected the library’s warm light. He stopped, pointing at the wall behind it. “What’s that?”
Behind the cabinet was a tiny door, no taller than Alex’s shin. Its brass knob gleamed faintly in the library’s glow, as though it had been waiting to be found.
“Jackpot,” Tom whispered, crouching beside it.
Emily finally looked up, setting her notebook aside. “Wait... I didn’t know there was a door there.”
Alex grinned, already reaching for the knob. “Something you didn’t know? This is officially the best day of my life.”
“Careful,” Victoria said, closing her book. “What if it’s cursed?”
“Cursed or treasure,” Alex replied, turning the knob. “Only one way to find out.”
The tiny door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit space no larger than a shoebox. Inside, a mouse in a perfectly tailored waistcoat stood behind a polished wooden counter, scribbling in a ledger with a quill that looked suspiciously like a baby feather.
Tom’s jaw dropped as he read a small sign aloud, “Zealandia Mouse Bank.”
The mouse adjusted its spectacles and gave them a pointed glare. “Excuse me. This is a private establishment. Do you have an appointment?”
Alex snorted. “An appointment? For what? A mouse bank?”
The mouse huffed. “If you’re here to waste time, kindly leave. We have serious clients.”
As if on cue, a mouse in a silk shawl scurried forward, clutching a tiny velvet pouch. She hoisted it onto the counter with dramatic flair.
“I’d like to deposit these crumbs,” she declared.
The banker adjusted his spectacles again and delicately opened the pouch. He leaned in, sniffing one crumb suspiciously.
“This,” he announced, “is counterfeit.”
“Counterfeit?!” the lady mouse squeaked, clutching her pearls—actual pearls, strung together with what looked like dental floss.
The banker sighed and held the crumb up to the light. “Clearly low-grade bread. Probably day-old. We don’t accept rubbish like this.”
The lady mouse gasped, scandalised. “That was baked fresh this morning!”
“Then I’d recommend a better baker,” the banker replied icily, tossing the crumb back into her pouch. “Next!”
Victoria doubled over, laughing so hard she nearly fell off the couch. “I’m done. This is too much.”
Emily crouched lower, staring in disbelief. “How did I miss this?”
“You weren’t looking for the premium secrets,” Alex said smugly.
Tom pointed at the line of mice, which was now growing. “Why is one of them holding a wheel of cheese? Are they using it as collateral?”
The banker overheard and sniffed disdainfully. “That is an investment deposit. Please refrain from such uninformed comments.”
“I’m gonna cry,” Victoria wheezed.
A mouse at the back of the line cleared his throat and held up a crumb-stained contract. “I’m here to renegotiate my crumb mortgage. The payments are... a bit steep.”
“Perhaps if you hadn’t purchased property under the breadline,” the banker quipped.
Emily snorted. “I take it back. This is the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.”
The banker’s patience appeared to be wearing thin. He snapped his ledger shut and fixed the group with a glare. “If you’re not here for business, kindly close the door. You’re disrupting my clients.”
“I think I love him,” Alex whispered.
“Do you think they do human accounts?” Tom asked. “I’ve got some leftover pizza crusts I could invest.”
“They’d reject you,” Victoria said. “It’s probably only for elite mice. You don’t have the crumbs to compete.”
Before anyone could respond, a hulking mouse in a black waistcoat emerged from behind the counter, holding a needle like a spear.
“Security!” the banker barked.
“Security?!” Alex doubled over, laughing. “I can’t. This is too much.”
The hulking mouse glared up at them. “Banking is serious business. Close the door, or you’ll be removed.”
Alex carefully shut the door, still chuckling. “I think I just witnessed the pinnacle of civilisation.”
“We’re never telling Sitka about this,” Tom said firmly.
“Oh, he already knows,” Emily replied, grinning. “He probably advised them on how to set it up. You know, mouse-sized ledgers and tiny pens.”
From the doorway, Lord Sitka’s voice drifted in, calm and full of amusement. “Not just advised—I’m their silent partner. Someone had to teach them about interest rates.”
Alex groaned, sliding to the floor. “Of course you did.”
Lord Sitka’s grin widened. “And to think it took you this long to find it.”
Victoria wiped tears from her eyes. “This house is ridiculous.”
Tom nodded. “Ridiculously amazing.”
Alex slumped dramatically. “I hate this house.”
“No, you don’t,” Victoria said with a smirk.