“This is all your fault.”
“No, it’s not. It’s yours,” the argument continued with just a minor change of subject.
They had no choice but to return and so they did, fighting and bickering the whole way. When they finally got back to the cave at the other end, there was no one there. The door, however, was closed and locked … from the outside.
PART IV
A MONSTER LIKE ME
CHAPTER 37
NOTHING BUT A HALFANDHALF
It’s my boat, I fumed. He can’t take it away from me like that. I was feeling usurped and resentful.
Zazkal was at the wheel, sitting in the pilot’s chair. He liked driving the boat and intended to do so for the remainder of the trip.
Since traveling bubbles were no longer an option, Zazkal had decided to take the Maiden Voyage south along the coast in order to shorten the swimming distance to Casalot.
Ollie had opted out. The thought of spending the next two days with Zazkal hanging onto his dorsal fin was enough to discourage the most intrepid bubble person. The dolphins he was already with were headed in the general direction of Casalot and he preferred their company.
Zazkal enjoyed driving the boat, even more so since he knew exactly how I felt. But he was not in such a great mood either. If I was upset about losing the sampo, he was angry and he was angry at me.
“Do you suppose I could have a turn at piloting my own boat?” I said testily.
“Why? Don’t you think a mere fish capable of such a feat?” he replied, returning the jab.
“Zazkal, cut it out. Just because I’m from outsea, you think I don’t know the difference between a fish and a mammal.”
“You’re no more a drylander than I am,” he spoke with derision. “The only difference is that I’m a fairy and you’re not.”
“I don’t understand, if I’m not a land person and I’m not a fairy, then what am I?”
“Nothing but a halfandhalf,” he said derisively. “No better than those shape-shifting pirates. How long do you think it will be before you can’t remember what you were originally, like them? They have no idea what their first forms were. They live only for the present, and for their own greed.”
“I don’t believe you.” Now we were both yelling. “You have a black heart. You’re the one who’s no better than they are. I’m nothing like them. Their magic is built in, it’s part of what they are. I need a magical device to be something different.”
“What can I say in the face of such monumental ignorance? Give me your magic scale. Oh, don’t worry, I won’t hurt it. Put it over there if you like, I won’t touch it.”
As soon as I put down the scale, he pushed me over the side of the boat and dove in after me. Grabbing my ankle, he swam deep into the water, pulling me down with him. I didn’t even have time to take a breath. My lungs were empty. My land shape was helpless against the powerful fish form, pulling me deeper and deeper.
“Breathe,” he said. “Breathe, damn you. It’s like writing. You don’t need Cooking. You don’t need Cultivating. You just need to Concentrate. You already know how to do it.”
I breathed. I breathed in a lovely sweet lungful of salt water. I looked down and saw my strong, beautiful tail. I relaxed…almost. Zazkal wasn’t finished with me yet.
“Do you think you’re so special? Any well-trained magic user can change their shape if they want.”
I sputtered. So angry, that bubbles came out of my mouth instead of words. “You mean you jerked me out of Metsoola like that, scaring everyone half to death and all the time you could have just walked away? What were you going to do if I didn’t come and get you? Stay there for the rest of your life?”
“If necessary, yes! I’m a Sky. Not some halfling like you. You don’t belong anywhere. Not on the land and not in the water. I may be a rogue Sky, but I am still a citizen of Casalot. Do you think I would risk that for the self-indulgent pleasure of a little shape-shifting?”
“Why do you think it feels so good to be back in the ocean after a spell on the land? You’re already changed. That’s why. You’ll never be a land person again and you’ll never belong in the sea either.”
“You…you…you stay off of my boat.” I turned to swim up to the boat and then, there was a great blackness.
I had been dreaming about my friends at school, when I woke up and found myself on the splintery deck of the Maiden Voyage.
I was still in my Sky shape and Zazkal was driving the boat. I sat up on my elbows and looked around, trying to figure out how he managed to get us both on the boat without my help after he used the sleep spell on me.
Zazkal turned and glared at me.
“Don’t you ever forget. You’re the apprentice.” He managed to make it sound like the lowest possible form of life. “You do what I say…without question.”
In the only act of defiance I could think of, I put on my fern coat to remove myself from his presence. Naturally, it backfired. For Zazkal, it was almost as good as actually being alone. He seemed quite content.
CHAPTER 38
THE PATHFINDING SPELL
With a sinking heart, I searched for the bag that I knew would not be there when I woke up the next morning. I followed the anchor rope up to the surface and climbed on board. Sitting in the darkest corner I could find I wrapped myself in my fern coat, prepared to spend the rest of the day feeling sorry for myself.
I watched, only half noticing when Zazkal swam up. He climbed into the canvas sling hanging from the winch and pulled himself up and onto the boat, using the rope he had left hanging from the pulley. Once in his wheelchair, he used the newly installed, courtesy of my sampo, automatic controls on the winch to haul up the anchor.
Then, without even a glance or a word to check and see if I was there, he moved himself from the wheelchair to the captain’s chair, started the engine and headed south..
So that’s how he does it, I thought idly. He could save himself a lot of trouble if he would just change to legs.
This reminded me of yesterday’s unpleasant conversation. I was in the process of entering a state of total and utter gloom, when Zazkal surprised me by speaking up.
“Take off that silly coat and get over here, he commanded.
“I’m still your teacher and if you think I’m going to let you waste the next two days on foolish daydreams, you’re badly mistaken.
“Repeat this phrase,” he said sharply, the moment I opened the clasp. I heard a pair of sentences that, except for the fact that they rhymed, made no sense at all.
“Again,” he said after I repeated it.
I must have said it a dozen times in all. As soon as he was satisfied, he grabbed at the compass, tearing it from its place and threw it into the ocean.
“Hey, we need that. How will we find our direction?” He didn’t answer, but began driving the boat in circles. As he did this, he said, “Think about the place we’re going to. The place where we picked up the boat.”
“What about it?” I growled back.
“I said think about it, you dolt. Now think. Concentrate.”
I got the idea and tried to focus my thoughts on the cat head-shaped cove where I had left the Maiden Voyage, in as much detail as I could.
“Now, tell me which way to go.” I glanced up at the sun, my only guide since we were still out of sight of land.
“Don’t look at the sun,” he snapped.
“Close your eyes and think about your destination.” He waited a moment, giving me a chance to focus, then interrupted my thoughts.
“Tell me again. Which way … No, don’t open your eyes. Keep them closed.”
I tried to concentrate and then spoke, “That way?” I said, pointing in what felt the right direction.
“No. Speak the rhyme again. Keep your eyes closed, and try again.” I did, and this time pointed in a slightly different direction.
“Good. Keep your eyes closed.” He began taking the boat in circles again.
“Do i
t again,” he said. “Begin with the rhyme.”
I did and got it right a second time but that wasn’t enough for Big Fish. He kept on driving the boat in circles, again and again.
It is going to take us forever to get back to Casalot, I thought.
“Zazkal, we’ll never get anywhere at this rate,” I said.
“Nonsense, we’re making a great deal of progress.”
Rolling my eyes upward, I shrugged, sighed, and tried again
Zazkal’s face swelled with anger when he saw my expression. “Don’t you dare patronize me. You halfling!”
This was too much for my bruised ego. I burst into tears, ran into the cabin and slammed the door.
“Get out here right now. I’ll call you a lot worse than that, you miserable split-tail.”
“No!” ‘No’ I said and ‘no’ I meant, but I suddenly found my feet taking me out on deck. I was so surprised by this bodily rebellion that I stopped crying.
“Now you listen to me you air-sucking dirt eater. You’ll do what I tell you, when I tell you.” He was yelling so loud it hurt my ears.
I looked up at his red-angry face. For one moment, I felt like I was back in the coral cave where he had kept me a terrified prisoner in an attempt to steal my sampo. That had been my first and most frightening encounter with Zazkal.
Then I remembered that this was the Sky I had spent most of the summer with. I had often been treated like this by him, but I generally gave back as good as I got.
“You know what?” I said quietly.
“You have a rotten temper.”
We were both silent for a moment. Then I watched his lips press together and kind of wriggle around. His eyebrows squeezed together in a kind of reverse arch. Even to me it was clear that he was trying not to smile.
“Perhaps I do, but you are not exactly a paragon of virtue yourself. Can’t you do something about those legs?” he added. “They’re making me nervous.”
I sat down in the wheelchair and switched to tail. That seemed to make him more comfortable and less testy. We rode in circles another half dozen times, with me getting the direction right each time. Finally, he seemed satisfied, which was good, since I was starting to feel queasy.
“Better put those feet on again and stand up so that we can change places.” I switched to legs and stood up while Zazkal slid into the wheelchair. As soon as I was seated I switched back to tail.
He certainly doesn’t mind using my legs when it’s convenient, I thought, but kept it to myself.
“Take the wheel,” Zazkal said, “and keep on course for as long as you can without repeating the formula. Stay out of sight of land and try not to look at the sun. Concentrate on both your destination and the coastline alongside you, so that you always know how far you are from the land without actually being able to see it.”
Zazkal leaned back into the loose canvas of the wheelchair, folded his hands in front of him and closed his eyes. He never opened his eyes, but every few minutes, he would correct my direction.
“Wrong,” he would say, or “Too far to the right.” Sometimes I could find the direction again, but most of the time I had to repeat the spell. Eventually I found myself losing my sense of direction even faster that I had in the beginning.
“Alright, that’s enough for now,” Zazkal said. “Take a break. I’ll be the compass. You just drive.” He closed his eyes and relaxed even more deeply into his chair, stretching out his tail in front of him, so that it was completely in the sun.
It was a particularly warm and gentle sun today, with just the tiniest bit of breeze to push the beams off your skin and keep you from getting too hot. It felt very, very good
Zazkal could insist all he wanted that there was nothing good outside the ocean but he was clearly enjoying the sun in a way that is not possible under the water.
I stayed in the pilot’s chair and drove the boat while Zazkal navigated. Every once in a while, without ever opening his eyes, he corrected the course.
After a while he seemed to remember that he was supposed to be my teacher, or more likely because the sun loosened his tongue, he began to talk about the pathfinding spell.
“A lot of magic,” he began, “takes advantage of things you know, but are unable to do independently. This spell works almost completely that way. It depends on what you already know. That means that it’s important that you don’t use magic instead of learning the signs and ways of finding things yourself, because the more you know, consciously or subconsciously, the better the spell works.”
“Kind of like my sampo? I can only take things out of my bag that I can picture very clearly.” Then I remembered the fate of my sampo.
“Yes, a lot like that, now that you mention it.” His voice was back to its usual sour. He remembered, too.
We both sat quietly for a minute, me glum, Zazkal annoyed over the loss of something useful. Finally, because he had more to say, he went back to his lecture.
“I thought this would be a good spell to teach you, because you can practice it this winter while you’re at school. It works anywhere. Practice it as much as you can, but at the same time, try not to use it all the time. I want you to spend just as much time learning and practicing finding your way without the spell.
“Typically, you will use the two, magic and non-magic skills together. That’s the reason it was so hard for you the first time. You were using the spell constantly. Most Sky find their own way to places, using the spell briefly and occasionally as a check or when they really don’t know.”
“But weren’t you using the spell all the time just now?” I asked.
“I’ve had a lot of practice,” was all he would say. “Now, drive.” He leaned back and closed his eyes. The conversation was over.
I worked the pathfinding spell all day, but nibbling at the edges of my mind were the Hazmats, what they were and what I was…Halfandhalf.
CHAPTER 39
BACK AT CASALOT
The next morning I felt something scratchy in my seabottom bed. Assuming a wayward crustacean, I reached around to move it out from under me. Instead of a sea bug, my hand came in contact with a familiar object.
“WOO HOO! It’s back! Yes! Yes! YES!” I executed a series of underwater somersaults and spirals…sampo in hand.
“Hmfpt. Good.”
Zazkal was awake.
“I guess it just needed time to heal,” I said after I recovered from the surprise and after Zazkal finished waking up.
“Look, there are slightly different colors in some places,” I said. “And here and here, see these faint lines. It’s almost as if these spots were sewn or glued together.
“Very impressive,” Zazkal said, turning it over in his hands. “I must say your bag has good timing. I thought we were going to have to swim all the way back to Casalot once we left the boat. Now we can travel in style.”
We found a marina to leave the Maiden Voyage. I arranged to have her repaired and put into dry-dock. The owners were especially kind to my ‘handicapped father’ and agreed to modify the boat for his convenience. Zazkal liked that.
The owners were also extremely happy when I took enough money out of my sampo to pay for a year in advance. I left them with Mom and Dad’s e-mail address so they could let me know how the repairs were going and said goodbye.
Retreating to a quiet spot near the ocean, Zazkal got to work on a pair of traveling bubbles while I took apart his wheelchair and piece by piece put it back into the sampo.
The double bubble deposited us in the water above Casalot in the early hours of the next morning.
We woke up Grandma and Grandpa, who were very glad to see me back. Hugs happened.
“I have to admit,” Mele’ said, “it’s not that I don’t have every confidence in you, Miriam, but I was just a little worried.” Seeing me and Zazkal exchange glances, he looked at Zazkal and said,
“I gather I had good cause to be concerned.”
Instead of answering Grandpa’s implied ques
tion directly, Zazkal turned to me again.
“You had better find something to do for awhile, while I tell your grandparents what we did.”
“Oh, Zazkal,” I whined, “I wanted to be here when we told them how we found the Hazmats.”
“I want you out of here. Especially for that part,” and he gave me a look that is not easy to describe but I think it had something to do with wanting to strangle me.
“I’m going. I’m going,” I said, and I went.
“I wonder if the pathfinder spell works on people,” I thought. “It certainly won’t hurt to try.” I muttered the spell, closed my eyes and thought about Verona.
Bingo!
Cool! I know just where she is. She’s still in bed.
“Hey, Verona,” I called out when I got there.
“Guess what. Guess how I knew where to find you.”
“Go away!” She rolled over and turned her back to me.
“Zazkal taught me a new spell. It’s called a pathfinder spell. I can use it to find the way to any place I want to go.”
“Whoop di doo! Miriam learned the pathfinder spell. Big deal. Go away.”
“There’s more. I want to tell you about the art in Metsoola.”
“Art?” She sat up.
“Yes. They have the most amazing sculpture. They use magic to shape it from flowing lava. Sometimes they carve it too. You have to go there.”
“I have to go there.” Verona was wide awake now, awake and excited.
So I started to describe my time as a prisoner in the garden. One thing led to another and I found myself telling her about the salt lake in fairyland. Verona didn’t exactly call me a liar…
“You’re joking. Right?” she said.
A slow shake of my head said that I was not.
“Do you understand just how deep you were? You’re making this up. Aren’t you!”
“No, really, I was there. I walked through fairyland to another salt lake that came out in a different part of the ocean.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
“You can ask Zazkal if you like.”
“No, thank you. Why would they keep you a prisoner anyway? It’s not very Sky.”
“Oh that. Well, when the king figured out that he could get all the power nuts he needed from my sampo, he tried to force me to stay there by marrying me off to his son.”