Anya frowned. This questing business was just full of small challenges that built up into bigger challenges, and just when she’d thought she was getting ahead—
Smoothie held up her paw-hand.
“Yes?”
“The sewers under New Yarrow? The ones from the old city? We know them. The otters, I mean. Not me personally. I never wanted to swim there, because they stink if they’re too dry and they’re dangerous when they’re flooded. But other otters go there.”
“Why?” asked Ardent.
“Because the sewers join the river and the river is our bailiwick,” said Smoothie.
“What’s a bailiwick?” asked Ardent.
“Like a demesne,” said Anya. “An area under someone’s authority.”
“Oh,” replied Ardent. “The same as a jurisdiction.”
“Yes,” said Anya impatiently. “Getting back to important matters … Smoothie, could you get the otters to help us find a way into the city and the League’s meetinghouse through the old sewers?”
“Maybe.” Smoothie’s mouth was turned down, and her dark brown eyes were hooded with sadness. “But I’d have to show myself to them … in this twisted, awful shape … ”
“It’s only temporary,” said Anya. “I’ll change you back.”
“Who you are is inside,” said Ardent. He’d been licking his paws clean of river mud, but he stopped to look directly at Smoothie. “No sorcerer c-c-an change that, no matter what they transform the outside into. You are still a Yarrow River otter, and always will be.”
Smoothie’s mouth unfroze and she opened her eyes more.
“I’ll go now,” she said, turning towards the river.
“No, wait a moment!” said Anya. “We have to work out where to meet. I’m still not sure about this inn. The witches had heard about the Duke’s reward for me. Two hundred gold nobles is a lot—”
“Oh,” said Shrub. “I forgot about that. You’d better not go to the inn.”
“Because someone will turn me in to the Duke?”
“They all would,” said Shrub. “Seeing as you’re only a friend of a thief, not a thief yourself. Two hundred gold nobles! I’d do it myself—”
Don’t you be thinking about getting a reward for the princess,” growled Ardent fiercely. He stood stiff-legged, pushing his snout into Shrub’s face.
“Hey, leave off,” said Shrub. “I’m a good thief, remember. And I promised Ma. And Anya is going to turn me back. Very hard to pick a lock when you’re a newt, let me tell you. I can’t wait to have fingers again. I was only going to say I’d do it myself if things were different.”
“All right, all right,” said Anya. “Let me think. Tell me about the meetinghouse, Shrub. Did you see anything that could be a storeroom for alchemical ingredients?”
“I didn’t see much of anything inside,” said Shrub with his curious shrug. “But it’s what used to be the old king’s castle. Half of it’s fallen down, and the League has only fixed up bits of it, in the middle.”
“That could be good,” said Anya. “We might even be able to hide in the meetinghouse itself, and scout around.”
“I suppose. It was just bad luck that when I fell down the chimney it was in one of the fixed-up parts, and they heard me. Course I got away from the first lot, but then when I got to the Garden, the Grey Mist was there—”
“The Garden?” interrupted Anya. “That’s their prison?”
“Nah, that’s just what people think,” said Shrub. “Weren’t no prisoners there. It’s just the Grey Mist’s private garden, I reckon. ’Spose she likes plants a bit. It’s higher up from where they store stuff, though.”
“So we can stay well away from it,” said Anya. “I want to get in, get the ingredients, and get out as quickly as possible. Remember that, Shrub. No going off looking for the Only Stone.”
“I won’t go off,” said Shrub. “I promised!”
“Riiiight,” said Anya. She looked at the newt dubiously before she continued. “The river goes into the sewers, so we can too. But we’ll need a boat, as well as an otter guide.”
“I could probably get a boat at the inn,” said Shrub. “I mean, by myself. Take a gold noble in my mouth, rent one. They know me there.”
“Do they know you in the shape of a newt?” asked Smoothie.
“Course!” snorted Shrub. “That’s where I went when I first got turned into a newt. It’s not just me, you know. The way those sorcerers are in New Yarrow, you look at them wrong and you get transformed. There was a cutpurse got turned into a toad—he lives in the herb garden at the Moon now. And a baker who asked to be paid, he got turned into a rat and a big black cat et him! Mind you, it ain’t all bad, I suppose. A bloke I knew a bit, he got transformed a few weeks before me, caught trying to steal some sorcerer’s horse. Horses were his speciality, you know. Kenry got turned into a kind of little monkey. He was an apprentice like me … only a real one. I mean, he was already indentured to a master thief, that Sally Purseghoster, one of the best. Though I ’spose Bert has promised me now, so I’m kind of—”
“This apprentice,” interrupted Anya. “The one who got turned into a monkey. He’s at the inn?”
“Might be, I dunno,” said Shrub. “Lots of thieves rest up there between jobs. Why?”
“He might be able to help us. I mean, in return for getting changed back.”
“Kenry?” asked Shrub. “Like I said, it ain’t always bad to get transformed. He won’t want to get changed back. Being a little monkey is a dream come true for a thief. You can climb, get through really small windows, swing from yer tail, climb a leg and cut a purse and jump away. Fifty … no, a hundred times better than being a newt. Why, I—”
“It is a terrible thing to be changed from your own shape,” interrupted Smoothie. She sounded so sad even Shrub shut up.
“True. So this Kenry might want to change back by now,” said Anya. She thought for a moment, and shook her head. “No, I suppose if he really likes being a monkey, it’s too much of a risk, because of the reward.”
“He can’t talk anyhow,” said Shrub. “He understands, though.”
“Never mind,” said Anya. “It was just a thought.”
“What do I do with a boat if I can get one?” asked Shrub. He lifted his paws. “Can’t sail with these.”
“Come back and report,” said Anya. “Then I guess we’ll have to sneak along tonight and row it away. I can row—I learned going around the moat. Oh, see if you can get some food and water put aboard as well.”
“Roast beef,” Ardent requested. “Or sausages.”
“Shall I go now too?” asked Smoothie. “If I can find someone to guide us, I’ll come back here.”
“Yes,” said Anya decisively. “But come back by nightfall anyway.”
“Have you seen Theodric Theodricsson, the thistle-sifter’s son?” asked Shrub.
“What?”
“That’s the pass phrase,” said Shrub. “Then if everything’s all right, the inn-keeper replies, ‘Nay, there’s no thistle-sifting here, no, never there was.’ ”
“What if he doesn’t say that?” asked Ardent. “Or if you get the first part wrong?”
“They knock you on the head,” said Shrub. “And stick you in the river.”
“Are you sure you’ll be safe?” Anya was surprised Shrub was so keen to go. He hadn’t seemed to be particularly brave in their previous adventures.
“Sure,” said Shrub. “Like I told you, they know me there. Here, sling me a gold noble.”
He opened his mouth wide. It opened a lot wider than it looked like it could or should, and the inside was a kind of an unpleasant, pallid orange. He didn’t have any teeth or, as far as Anya could see, a tongue.
“How do you talk?” asked Ardent. “You haven’t—”
“Here’s the money!” interrupted Anya quickly. Shrub might only be able to talk because he didn’t know he didn’t have a tongue, but by some quirk of the transformation magic, he could still speak as
if he did. If he started wondering what his tongue was doing, and felt that he didn’t even have one, he might lose the power of speech.
She dropped the coin into the newt’s mouth.
“Fanks,” he croaked, talking around the heavy gold noble. “Back soon, I hope. Tol lol.”
* * *
Rather surprisingly, Shrub returned before Smoothie. He came slithering down the bank between two huge twisted willow roots just upon dusk. Ardent, who’d smelled and heard him coming, yipped a quiet greeting. Anya, who’d been having an extra rest on the carpet, woke up, and for an instant thought something bad was happening before she realized it was just the newt.
“Got a boat,” Shrub announced. “Told ’em it was for Bert, I was working for ARR, so no questions or else.”
“They know Bert here?” asked Anya. She was surprised. She’d thought they were far beyond the robber’s influence, which she’d presumed was local to Trallon Forest and nearby.
“Course,” Shrub scoffed. “There’s groups of the Association of Responsible Robbers all over the place. They call ’em chapters, like in a book. Not so many members in New Yarrow, ’cos of people being more selfish in the city, but there’s some. Enough that the regular thieves and pirates take them serious and won’t cross ’em. Anyhow, I got a boat, and food and water. Boat’s tied up right on the end of the inn’s jetty. Which sticks out from the bowling green. Where’s Smoothie?”
“Not back yet,” said Anya with a trace of anxiety. “I hope the otters treat her all right. She feels bad enough being half otter, half human.”
“Least she’s got fingers,” said Shrub. “Sort of, anyway. I’m going to catch some water-skaters in the shallows.”
Water-skaters were the long-legged insects that slid crazily over the surface of the water and never sank, even when they stopped. There were always plenty on the moat back at Trallonia, and they were a staple part of the frogs’ diet there.
“Catch some for Denholm, please,” said Anya. She was still very worried about the frog prince. He’d continued to be very quiet in his little cage, apart from the brief bout of croaking when they’d landed in the river.
It was full dark before Smoothie returned. Shrub had caught at least a dozen water-skaters for Denholm by then, and the frog had eaten them, though not with his usual relish.
Smoothie was not alone. Two very large otters came with her. They were almost as big as Anya, far larger than any otters she’d ever seen before. She’d thought Smoothie’s fine-haired hide was sleek, but these otters’ hides were even sleeker. They had an almost silvery gleam about them, which was not a reflection of the moon, because the silver moon wasn’t up yet, and if the blue moon was, it was so dim and low Anya couldn’t see it.
Smoothie appeared to be very cheerful, Anya was pleased to notice. The half otter came gamboling up to Anya on all fours, stood up, and delivered a kind of bow. The full otters were more careful, looking around in all directions and moving in a stop-start fashion, ready to change direction and bolt back for the river if anything went amiss.
“Two of my senior cousins,” said Smoothie, by way of introduction. She emitted a series of strange yowly, growly yips, then translated these as Swiftsure One Bite Salmon Slayer and Deepest Water True Diver. The otters inclined their heads as their names were mentioned, but only by a fraction, and they remained wary.
“Swiftie and Diver know the canals and the sewers,” said Smoothie. “They’ll lead us to the sunken rooms of the old palace; they’re cellars now, and only partly flooded. We can get into the meetinghouse above from there. Apparently, we take Bank Street from the river—”
“Bank Street?” asked Anya.
“It’s a canal now,” said Shrub, eager to show off his knowledge of the city. “You know New Yarrow is built on top of the ruins of the old Yarrow, what they called Yarrow the City? Well, in the old days, there were a couple of big canals—that’s the Heavy Way and the Light Way. They’re so big you can get a ship down them! But when the Deluge hit, it scoured out more canals, so lots of the old streets, they’re canals now.”
“We take Bank Street from the river,” resumed Smoothie. “Turn right into a little canal—it hasn’t got a name—where the statue without a head is. Go along that, and under the second bridge there’s an outflow from the sewers. The grating’s busted, so we go in there, head along a bit, and there we are.”
“Sounds straightforward,” said Ardent.
“I bet it isn’t,” Anya warned. “How far can we take the boat?”
“How big a boat?” asked Smoothie.
“Rowing dinghy,” Shrub replied. He spoke slowly, and was licking his eyes, a sure sign he was thinking about something. “Twelve-footer.”
Smoothie spoke to the two otters in their language. Anya tried to make sense of their reply, but couldn’t, though she noticed the repetition of some particularly high-pitched squeaks. She would love to be able to speak native otter. One day, perhaps, she would be able to study otter language. Someone must have written a dictionary or primer. There might be one in the Wizard’s library …
“As far as the bridge,” said Smoothie, interrupting Anya’s momentary daydream. “Then we have to swim or you might be able to wade. They say it won’t be too stinky, because the rain flushed it out last night. Or too flooded, because the rain stopped this morning.”
Anya wrinkled her nose, thinking of exactly what the rain was flushing out of the sewers, into the canal and then the river. At least at Trallonia they had a proper cesspit, instead of just letting everything run into the moat. Letting it do that was very old-fashioned, and led to disease. Everyone knew that.
“All right,” she said. “It’s dark enough. Let’s sneak around the willows and take the boat.”
“There was another thing I just remembered hearing about the way into the meetinghouse through the sewers,” said Shrub.
“What?” asked Anya.
“You have to watch out for a monster that guards the stairs up,” said the newt.
This information was met with a deafening silence and a look of suppressed irritation from Anya that had all the hallmarks of being the precursor to one of her very stern looks.
“But thieves do get past,” said Shrub. “Apparently. So it can’t be that much of a monster.”
“Do you know what kind of creature it is?” asked Anya, forcing herself to speak slowly and remain calm.
“Nope,” said Shrub. “How bad can it be?”
Another, longer silence met this particular comment.
“Let’s go and get in the boat,” said Anya.
This time, she was unable to hold back a very long sigh.
A light wind was lifting the trailing branches of the willows as the intrepid questers followed Shrub single file along the riverbank and around the bend. The bright orange newt, as always, was much more visible than anyone else, causing Anya some concern as they came to the end of the willow-infested border and saw the long, high-roofed main building of the inn up ahead. The windows on all three stories were bright from the lantern light inside, with an occasional moving shadow indicating there were plenty of people inhabiting the place.
Shrub, however, did not hesitate, but continued on across the corner of the deserted lawn-bowls green, only just skirting a shaft of spilled light from the closest window. Anya followed on tiptoe, carefully avoiding the wooden balls that had been left higgledy-piggledy around the carefully tended lawn.
The jetty struck out into the river at a right angle from the lawn. There were at least half a dozen boats of different sizes tied up to it, but no one was in any of them. Shrub led the way over the rather alarmingly rotten and hole-peppered boards to the very end of the jetty, where one of the smaller boats swayed on the end of its mooring line. It was basically a larger version of the rowing boat Anya was familiar with from the moat back home, though with two sets of rowlocks and oars. It didn’t have a mast, unlike many of the other boats.
Anya pulled the boat in, climbed d
own, and held the craft against the jetty so the others could get in more easily. Smoothie handed down Denholm in his cage and the bottle of witches’ tears, then boarded as if she had done it a thousand times before. Ardent jumped with precision and moved to the bow to sit like a figurehead, while Shrub paced backwards and forwards on the jetty.
“Jump down,” whispered Anya urgently. She kept looking back towards the inn, expecting the sudden spill of light from a door opening at any moment, and then shouts of alarm.
“It’s too far,” said Shrub. “I’ve got short legs.”
“I’ll catch you,” said Anya. “Come on, jump!”
Shrub hesitated before launching himself off the jetty towards the boat. Anya made no attempt to catch him, instead moving back, while still holding on to the jetty. The newt landed heavily, but without injury.
“I knew you had it in you,” said Anya encouragingly. She had years of practice tricking her recalcitrant older sister into doing things.
Shrub muttered something and plonked himself down on one of the thwarts. Anya pushed them off from the jetty and sat down herself, shipping one set of oars. They were heavier and longer than she was used to, so as she began to row, she had to concentrate hard to make sure she didn’t “catch a crab”—slipping the blade of the oar out of the water and cracking her chin with the other end.
“Head towards the middle of the river, where the current is strongest,” Smoothie instructed. “More to your left—that’s it. Swiftie and Diver will meet us there. You won’t have to row much, except for direction.”
“It’s going to be hard coming back,” said Anya. She could feel the current working on the boat. “Can you row? We’ll probably need the second set of oars. I doubt I could go against the current by myself.”
“I’ll watch you and learn,” said Smoothie. She trailed one paw-hand over the side, cupped up some water, and splashed it over her face. “Ah, I love the river! Better to be in it than on it, but this is almost as good.”
It was beautiful on the water. The big moon was finally coming up, casting its gentle light across the water, turning the ripples from wind and current into lines of silver. The river was getting wider, spreading out, and the high banks and willows were giving way to once well-ordered farmland that, while not what it had been in the heyday of the High Kingdom, still looked neat and bucolic in the moonlight.