CHAPTER 6
"Then it's agreed. Can we leave immediately?" Erik asked Marge.
"Almost," she replied. "I just need to put my serving girl at the counter and we'll be off to my boat."
"What kind of un-lakeworthy vessel is it?" the captain spoke up.
Marge turned to him and looked him up and down. "Something that'll hold your girth, if that's what's worrying you."
He frowned and pulled up his belt. "I'm worrying because you've never mentioned owning a boat before."
She shrugged. "It's for special occasions, and seeing as how this young lord-"
"Call me Erik," Erik insisted.
"This young Erik will deal with a lot of my headaches then this is a very special occasion," she finished. "Now let's get going before the sun's high. Some of the fog gets to lifting if it's a hot enough day, and this Indian Summer keeps getting 'em that way."
Marge placed her buxom barmaid at the helm of the bar and led us through the back hall to the side door that ran through the kitchen. It led to the cliff-side of the building, but she skirted the stairs and walked farther along the edge.
"Watch your step here. Sometimes the ground gives away. Same thing happens all over the island," she warned us.
"You'll be the death of us yet. . ." the captain mumbled.
"Yer eating and drinking will take you before I do, but hurry up. We don't have all the rest of the morning," she scolded him.
We reached a point in the cliff where it turned to the right at an old tree stump that sat three yards from the edge of the abyss. Marge knelt beside the stump and pulled it, roots and all, from the ground. The roots were buried in soft dirt and pulled up easily. I noticed it could be put back just as easily and the grass above the soft dirt and roots would hide the movement.
Below the trunk was a wide set of winding metal stairs that led deep into the earth.
"What in all the seven seas is this?" Captain Black asked our guide.
"You think that rocky island of yers is the only one with hidden coves?" she countered. "Now get down before I shove you through the hole."
Erik went first, followed by me, Greg, and the two locals. We wound our way down the steps and reached a cavernous hole in the ground. Sharp stalactites and stalagmites hung from the ceiling and rose from the floor. Water flowed in and out with the tide through a small hole at the front of the cavern. A motor boat sat half on the shore, and was barely large enough to fit us.
"I'll get the helm," the captain offered.
"It's my ship, ya wet dog, and I'll pilot it where we need to go," Marge insisted.
Marge took a seat at the rear and the rest of us settled on the benches in front of her. The engine roared to life and we sped through the stalagmite-infested waters and out through the small opening. I fell into Erik's side and he caught a hold of me to steady me. Greg sat at the bow and clutched both sides of the ship to keep himself from slipping back to us. The captain clung to the side of the ship and his face was pale and his eyes full of fury.
"What the blazes are you-"
"I know what we're doing. We need to make a quick leave of that place or someone might see us," she told him.
"That won't matter if ya get us killed!" the captain shot back.
"We're okay. I've driven out of there more times than you've managed to get a woman to bed you, though that's not saying much," she quipped.
"Marge, another crack like that and I'll crack yer skull," the captain growled.
"Patience, captain," Erik spoke up. "A qualm on a small boat is a tempest in a teapot."
"Damn wench and her ways. . ." he mumbled, but didn't continue his threats against our driver.
Marge steered the boat past the island where was hidden the sailing ships and into the gray darkness of the fog. I lost track of the cardinal points when the shadow of the island was swallowed by the thick mist, but Marge flew us across the water at full throttle. I could see the entirety of the boat and our companions, but nothing beyond that. The only indication that the sun had risen was the warmer air, but it was still chilly. I snuggled against Erik, and he wrapped his arm around me.
"Did I ever tell you you take me to such romantic places?" I teased.
Erik smiled. "If you think this view is wonderful you should catch a glimpse of the inside of the Braille."
I snorted. "I don't think anyone but Methuselah could ever catch that. At least, not without a blowtorch."
"Methuselah? I've heard a lot of names in my time, but never one like that," Marge commented.
Black straightened and his words were clipped. "He's nothing but a lonely beggar we found, a stowaway."
Marge raised an eyebrow. "I know you're an idiot, Black, but yer men are better than that. This man must be impressive to have gotten through so many sharp-eyed men."
"How far is it to the shore?" Erik spoke up.
"Not long now, but that's a terrible way to change the conversation. You'd do a better job by me if you just asked me to drop it," Marge scolded him.
"Then we humbly ask that you drop it," Erik returned.
Marge smiled and nodded. "Then I will, but not forever. I can see from Black's pudgy face that it's a nice secret you have."
Black's face reddened and his words held a growl in them. "I am not-"
"There it is. Land," Marge announced as she nodded ahead of us.
We all turned our heads and saw a huge shape loom up through the fog. The top of the dark shape broke into a thousand different sizes and shapes of trees. I dipped my hand into the water and noticed how much warmer it felt. That showed we were in shallower water. Rocks and half sunken logs poked up from the water and Marge zigged and zagged around them. Fish darted away from us and startled birds flew from their nests on the larger of the rocks.
"I'll land us a half mile away from where the boat was seen," Marge announced. "We don't want to be caught in their landing spot."
"How long ago were they last seen headed in this direction?" Erik asked her.
"Just a few days ago," she replied.
She steered us through the obstacles and to a white-sand beach. The bow of the ship stuck into the sand, and Greg and Erik jumped out and pulled it further ashore. The captain stepped out and lashed the anchor rope to a fallen tree. Marge and I crawled over the seats and jumped onto the cool white sand of solid, non-island earth. I breathed in deep and inhaled the scents of living trees and healthy ground.
The captain stooped and scooped up a handful of the sand and dirt. He let the mixture run through his fingers. "Whatever's blighting our homes doesn't mind blessing this land," he commented.
Marge rubbed her hand against the log the captain had tied our boat and looked with wide eyes at the thick, tall trees. "Half a dozen of these would fetch a dozen years of pay from my inn."
"And a dozen of them logged from the shore would bring curious men," Erik spoke up.
I frowned. "More fog. . ."
He turned to me and raised an eyebrow. "'More fog?'" he repeated.
"Don't you remember what that guy was saying on Market Island? The one that stirred up all the trouble? He said something about the fog," I reminded him.
"'What if I was to tell you the fog wouldn't be gone, but would encompass more land than it does now,'" Greg repeated.
I blinked at Greg. "How did you remember that?"
He grinned and bowed his head. "I am blessed and cursed with a very proficient memory."
"You'd make a killing at counting in a game of cards," the captain mused. Marge scowled at him and punched him in the arm. The captain rubbed his bruised appendage and glared back. "What was that fer?"
"For being an idiot when you should be paying attention to what they're saying," she snapped.
"They're just talking nonsense. The fog's not going anywhere without a witch, and the only one around here is you," he argued. Marge narrowed her eyes and growled at him.
"Enough. Both of you," Erik interrupted their argument. "We don't have time to bicker
, not when our foes have the clear advantage. They have their plans in order, and we seem only to be following their crumbs."
"And what crumbs are these?" the captain asked him.
"The agent of our foes on Market Island told the crowd the fog could expand beyond the shores of the lake. If what he said was true then they would have to have a powerful witch in their employ," Erik pointed out.
"Unless he's lying," Marge countered. She folded her arms across her chest and her eyes flickered to Black. "It wouldn't be the first time a man lied."
"A witch?" the captain scoffed. "Where would they be finding someone like that in this day and age?"
Erik nodded at the woods at our backs. "There. The men boat that was seen ashore could have discovered the witch."
"But how'd they know where to look?" I spoke up. "Or even that they should be looking?"
"That remains for us to find out." Erik glanced at Marge. "Where did you say the boat was seen?"
She gave a nod down the beach. "It's this way. Follow me."
CHAPTER 7
Marge led us along the shoreline. Rocks jutted out into the calms waters and birds flitted past us and sang their early-morning song. The sun broke through some of the fog and shone down on us. I rubbed my eyes and tried to look up at the brightness, but the light burned. I noticed everyone else kept their heads down or faced straight ahead.
"No wonder werewolves can see well in the dark. . ." I muttered.
"It is a natural ability of the wolf, but we are less tolerant of the light than other animals," Greg told me.
We walked a half mile before Marge stopped and pointed at a narrow spot between two large rocks fifteen feet tall.
"The ship was seen there," she informed us.
Erik strode forward and the rest of us followed behind him. He knelt near the edge of the lake where the waves fell short and brushed his hand over the surface.
"A boat was here not too long ago," he commented.
"I did say one passed by a few days ago," Marge reminded him.
Erik raised his head and looked ahead of himself towards the woods. "And here are footprints." He stood and followed the imprints of shoes, but stopped short of the trees. A rarely-used path led into the forest. "The path turns, but we may find something if we search a few miles down it," he suggested to us.
Captain Black walked up behind Erik and clamped a hand down on his shoulder. "I won't have ya getting yerself lost in some god-forsaken forest, not when ya mean a world to my island," he insisted.
Erik turned around and glared at the captain. "This concerns all the islands," he shot back.
"Maybe, but ya made a promise to help how ya can, and I expect ya to keep to it," the captain insisted.
"Master, if I might bring forth a suggestion?" Greg spoke up. "We needn't risk everyone. Might I venture into the woods and see what can be found?"
Erik frowned at our servant. "It's too dangerous to go alone, even for you."
"He won't be alone," Marge chimed in. She stepped forward and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'll go with him."
The captain looked to her with a raised eyebrow. "What's got you into a helpful mind?" he questioned her.
She grinned and shrugged. "Let's just say I'd like to know what my customers are up to, even if they don't want me to know."
Erik pursed his lips, but gave a nod. "Very well, but I won't see anyone travel into these woods without some supplies."
"I've got that covered, and more," Marge offered. She sidled up to Greg and elbowed him in the ribs. "We'll have a grand time, won't we?"
Greg winced, but managed a smile. "A very interesting time," he agreed.
The captain's cheeks reddened. He marched over to them and pushed them apart. "You two aren't doing nothing. If someone's going with Marge then it'll be me."
"A kind offer, but my servant knows what to look for and we need someone's introduction into Deacon's home," Erik pointed out. "Unless, of course, you release me from my promise."
Black growled, but yanked up his pants. "Fine! Let's get this over with!" He turned to Marge and wagged a finger at her. "But you'd better come back! None of yer stupid dramatics, and no hero stuff!"
Marge threw back her head and laughed. "If I didn't know any better, captain, I'd say you were jealous and worried about me at the same time."
"It's neither. I can't get a cheaper room on the island than yers," he quipped.
Marge rolled her eyes. No one but the captain believed what he said, and I had my doubts about him believing it. "Well, if we're not going to be doing something here right now we may as well get back and get the provisions," she suggested.
We returned to the boat and headed back to the island. The fog wrapped around us like a tangled blanket and cut off the bright, warm sun. I wrapped my arms around my cold body and sighed. Thoughts of the pine trees and the smell of fresh earth brought back sad memories of my past life. Erik scooted closer to me and wrapped his arms around me. His voice was low enough the others would have to strain to understand his words.
"You still miss it?" he guessed.
I snorted. "You think?" I leaned my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes. "It's hard not to think about a place you were torn from, especially since I was plopped down in the middle of a brewing rebellion."
"We still have hope to find some way out of our predicament," he reminded me.
"What predicament be that?" the captain spoke up.
"The blood bond that ties us," Erik explained.
The captain frowned. "Why would ya want to do such a thing?"
"We were both unwilling participants in the Choosing," Erik replied.
"In other words, I was a captive and his dad swiped some of his blood for the bowl," I quipped.
Black shook his head. "It beats all how two young people such as yerself would want to break up something like what you've got, and ya got to think about what yer dealing with. That's some powerful strong tradition yer going after." He gestured to the air around us. "Older than this fog, and I'm betting twice as strong."
"Hush, you. If they don't want to be with each other that's none of your concern," Marge snapped.
"Humanity is my concern, madam, and I'll mind you to butt out of my own business," the captain growled.
Marge laughed. "That's a fine thing to say. 'Stay out of my business, but I'll be butting into others.' Yer nothing but a hypocrite, Captain Edward Black!"
The captain jumped to his feet and rocked the boat. "By thunder, woman, if'n they find the trick to releasing me from you then I'd take it even if it was poison!" The two glared at each other as the three of us clutched the side of rocking boat.
I turned my head from one to the other and pointed a finger at them. "So I'm guessing you two are bonded."
"Aye, and what a curse it was the day this wench was given to me!" the captain growled.
"You're the one to talk! I was taken from my family's farm in the dead of night and given to some crusty old captain who never set foot on the sea in his life!" Marge shot back.
Erik stepped between them and held up his hands. "We don't have-"
"Shut up!" they both yelled.
Erik frowned and dropped his hands to his sides. "Very well. Kill each other. Toss each other overboard and drowned one another. But if your argument risks the life of my mate than I will gladly throw both of you overboard myself and leave you here to swim or drown."
The battling couple blinked at my mate for a moment, and then a small smile slipped onto both their faces.
"By gum, that's just what I wanted to hear," the captain commented.
Marge tilted back her head and laughed. "Aye, I must admit that was as good a show as any we put on."
I raised my hand. "So you really weren't going to kill each other?" I guessed.
"Heavens no! We're not on seeing terms, but we'd never kill each other," Marge explained She paused and tapped her chin as her eyes playfully flickered to Black. "Well, unless the price was ri
ght," she mused.
"So that was all a show?" I asked them.
The captain chuckled and nodded. "Aye. You two need to see that what you've got is something special. Ya may bicker and argue and be a fighting, but yer still mates, and for werewolves that's something special."
"The bond is the life," Greg spoke up.
"Just so," Black agreed with a nod. "Yer willing to risk yer life for the other, and not willing to put anyone else before yer mate. That's the bond. Yer life is theirs, and vice versa."
"But for a silver dollar I might be thinking about getting me a new husband," Marge mused.
The captain frowned. "That's enough of yer acting, missy. We've got our point across their bows."
"Who was acting?" she teased.
"Ya were, ya wench!" he growled.
Erik sat back down beside me and we watched the loving pair devolve back into their argumentative selves. I leaned towards Erik and lowered my voice to a whisper.
"Think we'll be that way when we've been together that long?" I asked him.
"If we manage to survive this ordeal, that may happen," he commented.
My face drooped and my eyebrows crashed down. "You're optimistic about this trouble."
"We're dealing with some dangerous foes. They did try to kill you at the Barracks, and both of us at the last island," he reminded me.
I snorted and leaned my head against him. "Well, I'm not worried. Not with you around."
"Might I suggest we continue on to the island?" Greg spoke up. Marge had neglected the motor and we had idled along at a snail's pace these last few minutes.
Greg's loud voice cut through the shrill voices of our fighting companions. Marge and the captain blinked at each other.
"Ya heard the man, woman! Get her going!" Black ordered his mate.
Marge rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile on her lips. "Aye, aye, captain."
She revved the engine and the boat bolted forward. The bow cleared the water and stuck above it as we sped our way through the foggy lake waters. In a half hour we returned to the secret cavern and docked on land. We climbed the stairs and came up out of the secret stump hole. Marge was the last and shut the hole behind herself.
She wiped her hands and turned to us. "Now let's get preparing that trip. First off, I need to know the name of the man I'll be headed out with."
"Greg, ma'am," Greg told her.
"Greg Ma'am. Not much of a name, but it'll suit." She slung her arm over Greg's shoulders and pulled him away towards the inn. "Now what do you say to three meals a day of hard-tack biscuits and dirty water?" Not for the first time, I was glad to be out of the trouble.