Stavik was right, these guys weren’t fooling around. One of the pie shop thieves had gotten sprayed in the face with Sneeze Breeze once. Before that day he’d been called Jack the Nose. Now everyone called him Jack No-Nose.
Carefully, he undid the wire, let it slip free, and opened the case. The knives were his. He smirked as he slid them into his belt, feeling as masterful as a master thief could be. Now on to the real treasures, he thought.
He turned around, smack into a wall. “Oooof!” he said, stumbling backward.
“Gotcha,” the wall growled.
CHAPTER 6
Marrill Grows Feathers
Poison?” Marrill echoed the old man’s words, her mouth going dry. A sick feeling churned through her as she stared down at her hand. Her fingertip glowed a faint shade of green where she’d touched the barnacle creature. Already it was spreading across her palm toward her wrist. Her legs began to tremble, sending little ripples across the surface of the lake.
“Oh, it’s hardly a big deal,” Ardent called down from the deck of the ship. From Marrill’s perspective, it was difficult to see this as anything other than a big deal. She held her arm out as the green crept up onto her forearm. Her fingers started to tingle and, somehow, buzz a little bit. Karnelius hissed.
“But just in case,” Ardent added, “wait right there.” He grunted and swung a leg over the railing. The hem of his purple robe fluttered as he reached for a rope ladder dangling nearby. “And whatever you do, don’t think of any words with the letter X in them!”
Immediately her mind began conjuring up X-letter words. Relax, she told herself. The green streaked faster along her arm, almost to her elbow.
She bit her lip, willing herself to breathe. “Inhale,” she whispered. “Exhale.” She shrieked as the green shot up farther. Already the skin felt heavy and wrong and a slight burning throbbed in her bones.
“What’s happening?” she cried.
“That depends on how human you are,” the old man said, landing in front of her with a splash. He reached for her arm. “May I?”
Marrill blinked and nodded, because she didn’t know what else to do. Her fingers vibrated and her arm glowed, and it took everything she had to keep standing and not drop Karnelius. Karny hated water. Getting him wet would only make things worse.
Ardent’s touch was comforting as he tsked over the spreading green. The scratches along her palm from Karnelius’s earlier struggle had turned an alarming shade of black and oozed a thick purplish slime. Her stomach churned and she had to look away.
“Judging from the reaction, you’re definitely at least mostly human,” Ardent mused. “So that’s something good to know, isn’t it?” He gave her a gentle, caring smile.
“What’s going to happen to me?” she whimpered, daring a glance back at her arm. Feathers seemed to be sprouting along her wrist. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her father had said they needed to keep her mother’s stress level low. Marrill was pretty sure a daughter who suddenly grew feathers would accomplish just the opposite.
If she lived to make it home again at all.
The old man grasped her arm tightly, and for the briefest of moments a flash of warmth flared across her skin. It reminded her of the sensation just before lightning strikes, when the hair stands up on your neck and the back of your throat tastes like old pennies. Karnelius wiggled mightily in her grasp.
She squirmed a little herself, the inside of her elbow tickling. And then… nothing. The heaviness, the buzzing, the pain—all of it was gone.
“Right as rain,” Ardent pronounced, poking at a few of her fingers. Marrill eased her eyes open and glanced at her arm. With a gasp, she found her skin was back to normal—not a speck of green anywhere. The feathers had disappeared from her wrist. And even more curious, so had the scratches she’d gotten earlier from Karnelius.
She opened and closed her hand a few times. It felt like nothing had happened at all. And yet… she saw something flash along the ripple of waves. She bent and plucked it free, staring. A waterlogged feather from her wrist dangled limp between her fingers.
Ardent was already splashing his way noisily back toward the ladder. She scrambled after him. “How did you do that?” she asked, her eyes wide with shock and confusion.
“I told you,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m a wizard.” He began climbing back up the side of the ship. “Coll, we still don’t seem to be moving!”
Marrill frowned. That was no explanation at all. Because wizards didn’t exist. “I don’t understand,” she yelled after him.
“Why, I healed you, of course,” he called back. “With magic! It’s what I do. Magic, not healing. But sometimes both.” He reached the railing and hefted himself out of sight.
Marrill glanced back at the feather in her hand. This was magic. Real magic. Maybe if it had just been her skin turning green and the buzzing and burning, she could chalk it up to some sort of illusion or adverse reaction to an animal’s natural defenses or a trick of her heat-addled brain.
But that wouldn’t explain the cat scratches. Karny had gotten her good; those had been real. And they hadn’t been little cuts, either—she could still see the traces of blood along the cracks in her palm. And yet, now there was no evidence at all that the skin had ever been split.
Somehow, Ardent had healed her. Even though it didn’t make sense, it was the only explanation she could come up with. And if he could heal her… if what Ardent said about being a wizard was true—and didn’t she have the proof in her hand?—then he really could heal people. And maybe not just her.
He could heal her mother! Or teach her how to! And then they wouldn’t have to stay in Phoenix, and everyone would be healthy and happy, and they could hit the road again, go back to the three of them having adventures together, the way it had been before. She practically jumped for joy. She’d get her old life back. And most importantly, her mom would be right there with her!
She grabbed for the ladder. “Hey!” she cried. “Wait up! I have a question for you!” She quickly found it wasn’t easy climbing with only one arm, especially with a cat who wasn’t a big fan of either heights or large pools of water. She struggled to keep her grip, and when she finally reached the top, she stumbled over the railing, slightly out of breath.
A vast deck spread out before her, raised in the front and back like she’d seen on model ships, with a cabin at the far end. Ardent had already made his way over to it, and she chased after him across the wide wooden planks.
“You say you can heal people?” she blurted.
The wizard swung around halfway up the narrow stairs leading to the rear deck and let out a high-pitched yelp, startled by her sudden appearance. Well, at least she wasn’t the only one here feeling a little unsettled.
“Oh! Well. Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Oh! It’s you. From before. How… unexpected. Isn’t that unexpected, Coll?”
He turned, revealing a boy just a few years older than Marrill, his hands gripping the giant wooden wheel of the ship. He was tall and lanky, as if he’d been stretched—all elbows and knees and dark, dark skin. Marrill blinked a few times—from their earlier interactions she’d assumed Coll was much older.
“We weren’t exactly anticipating picking up stowaways,” Ardent mused as he tugged on his long white beard. “Is there a protocol for this?”
Coll’s response was more of a grunt. “The brig?”
Before either could say anything more, Marrill stepped forward, directly in front of the wizard. “You can heal people?” She still felt a little stupid for believing it could be true. She waited for both of them to laugh at her, but neither did.
Instead, Ardent frowned. “Magic can heal people,” he answered. “When it wishes,” he added with a chuckle.
“What are the limits? I mean, can you heal anything? Can you fix someone who’s really, really sick?” She tried to think of the worst kind of injury imaginable, because if he could fix that, he could do anything. “If I got my arm cut off,
could you put it back on again?”
“Hmm,” he said, looking from her left to her right. “Which arm?”
She blinked. “Does it matter?” An arm was an arm, wasn’t it?
“Well, I’d think it would matter to you,” he told her.
“But you could fix it?” she asked, barely able to breathe as she waited for his response.
“Possibly,” Ardent said. “We would need the arm, of course. And it always depends on the tides of the Stream and how the magic’s feeling that day and often the semi-mesopheric compression of…”
Marrill didn’t listen to the rest because it didn’t make sense. But that didn’t matter. She had her answer: There was the possibility he could make her mother better.
“I need to get back,” she said, cutting him off. “Now. And I need you to come with me.”
The old man stared at her as if she were the one being confusing. “Back where?”
“Home.” She turned to point behind her, across the abandoned parking lot to the road that led to her great-aunt’s house. Except it wasn’t there anymore. She gasped, her heart thundering as she ran to the railing for a better look.
Gone were the abandoned storefronts with their broken windows and boarded doors. Gone was the cracked asphalt parking lot. As far as she could see, there was nothing except an endless expanse of water. Golden, glowing water.
Karnelius rumbled in complaint, and she realized she’d been squeezing him too tightly. For the first time, the feel of his furry body cradled in her arms did nothing to comfort her.
“How?” she whispered, equal parts bewildered and amazed. “What?” She swallowed. “Where are we?”
A crash of thunder boomed behind her, and she turned. Dark clouds boiled along the horizon, racing toward them. Ardent didn’t seem concerned. He stood with his feet braced against the rolling of the ship, damp purple robe whipping around his ankles in the increasing wind, the tip of his cap flapping like a wind sock.
The wizard—for she now knew that’s what he was—held his arms out wide and grinned. “Welcome,” he cried, his voice louder than the thunder, “to the Pirate Stream!”
CHAPTER 7
Dead Is Dead Is Dead
Fin looked up into a pair of flaring bull’s nostrils. Behind them, teeth like tombstones gleamed inside a dark, furry muzzle. From this angle, Bull Face looked like he could eat three Fins for breakfast and still be up for a big lunch.
“You’re a sneaky one,” Bull Face grunted, cracking his monster-sized knuckles. “Saw the case come open, didn’t even see you there.”
Fin raised his hands. “Well, I’m hard to noti—” Without even finishing the word, he dropped to his knees and scurried between the thick tree-trunk legs. The guard, stunned, barely had time to swipe at the spot where Fin had just been.
“Thief!” Bull Face’s deep voice boomed. “Thief, everyone! Get him!”
Fin knew when it was time to run. He took off through the gallery, weaving through the maze of display cases, toppling as many as he could behind him to slow the pursuit. Glass shattered and wood splintered, sending priceless artifacts spinning across the floor.
Ahead of him, the towering statue loomed. Behind him, Bull Face bellowed and charged. Every pounding step shook the floor beneath Fin’s feet, eating up the space between them. Worse, it seemed the lunchers had heard the commotion, because guards were streaming down the catwalks to join the chase.
Fin needed to find that key and get out of here. He looked to the left, only to find a stampede of angry Meressians. He glanced to the right, only to find another crowd of sword-wielding guards.
Meressians to either side. Bull Face behind. Statue ahead. There was nowhere to go. No ducking behind corners and waiting to be forgotten this time. It was time to stop this chase.
Fin pivoted ever so slightly and headed straight for the nearest display, right at the foot of the statue. Bull Face wheeled after him, roaring, his breath hot on Fin’s neck. Fin hit the case at full speed with an “Oof!” and slid over the top of it. Just as Bull Face grabbed for him, he yanked the case open, right in front of Bull Face’s big bull face.
Purple mist sprayed straight into the guard’s flaring nostrils. He stumbled backward, smacking at his nose. First there was a snuffle. And then another. There was an earsplitting snort, then a monumental sneeze, so strong it sent Fin reeling backward into the base of the statue.
His eyes shut on impact. Something warm, thick, and sticky splashed across his chest. “Blugh!” he groaned, shuddering. When Fin opened his eyes, he found Meressians jumping from side to side, dodging the furiously sneezing brute who flailed among them.
“AH-CHEW!” Bull Face snorted, spraying a handful of guards with snot, causing them to back up even farther.
“Take that, you dumb ox!” Fin laughed. The huffing behemoth lay between the horde of angry Meressians and Fin, keeping him safe for the moment.
“Sneeze Breeze won’t… AH-CHEW… last… BLAH-CHEW… forever,” Bull Face gasped.
Fortunately, it only needed to last long enough to find a hiding place, Fin thought. Once everyone forgot about him, he’d resume his search, find the key, and pick up all the valuables he could carry for himself and the Parsnickles.
Not that he had a whole lot of options with his back pressed against the massive statue and Bull Face flailing in front of him. In fact, he realized, it looked like the only direction left was up.
Producing his newly acquired knives, Fin turned, sank one into the white robe draping the towering statue, and began climbing.
“He’s scaling the Oracle!” someone gasped.
“He can’t do that!” cried another.
“Looks like I can!” Fin called back, scrambling higher. The robe was slick, but the knives bit deep, giving him good holds.
Just as he crested the statue’s shoulders, the whole ship quivered and jolted. It began to rock from side to side, making his stomach roll. They were leaving port!
Sweat broke out on Fin’s brow. Before long, they’d be out on the open Pirate Stream. And then there really would be nowhere to go.
He’d climbed plenty high to be level with the uppermost catwalks, all of them swarming with pointing and hollering Meressians. Fin belly-crawled onto the statue’s outstretched arms. Maybe he could slip into the cup of the golden chalice gripped in its hands and wait there until he was forgotten. But when he reached the cup, he saw it was a single, solid piece. There was no room to hide.
He was stuck.
Fin dropped his head in resignation, looking down into the pool of water several stories below. The reflection of the statue gazed back at him.
With a start, he realized there was something off about that reflection. It looked strangely anguished, not at all the serene marble visage behind him. Huge black tears ran down the reflected porcelain face, all set off against the darkness of its robe.
Fin blinked and glanced behind him. The statue he’d climbed wore a white robe, not a dark one. He looked down again. The reflection was a perfect opposite of the reality, cloaked in black and spattered in white like a sky full of stars.
Something buzzed in the back of his mind. He struggled for his pocket, ripping free the letter he’d hidden there. Pierce the Starry sky to find the vault, it told him.
“Shanks,” he whispered. He peered back at the pool. It looked just like the starry sky, no doubt. But it was over thirty feet below and could scarcely be an arm’s length deep. He’d break his neck if he tried.
An arrow whizzed past him. He sucked in his breath. The Meressians weren’t waiting. Neither could he. And the letter had been right so far.
Carefully, Fin folded the note and put it back in his pocket. Sneezes and shouts echoed around him. Below, one of the purple-clad guards nocked another arrow into his bow.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Fin took a long, deep breath. Then he pinched his nose shut with his fingers and jumped.
He struck the cold water of the reflecting pool
with a jarring smack. Thankfully, it was deeper than it looked. He struggled downward, kicking toward the bottom. And then the bottom came, and passed, and he was in the air again, falling.
Fin hit the floor hard and rolled, spreading the impact. If there were three things every orphan in the Quay knew, the second one was how to land. The mountain winds blew hard and constant; you never knew when a sudden gust would grab you off your feet, and it was never too particular about where, or how, it put you down.
When he came to a stop, he found himself face-to-face with a… well, face. It was another statue, just like the one he’d jumped from. Except it wore black robes and hung upside down like a bat, its feet stuck to the ceiling while its head almost touched the floor.
“Creepy,” Fin murmured, reaching out a finger to trace the black tears streaking from the statue’s eyes to its chin. With a shiver, he craned his neck, looking up. Overhead, a circle of water shimmered in the ceiling, held in place by nothing but air. It was the pool he’d just jumped through. He laughed. The statue in front of him was built to look like a reflection.
His good mood didn’t last long. On the other side of the water, he could see movement. The Meressians might dive in after him at any moment. And he still needed to find the key, grab whatever other awesome loot had to be hidden down here, and get out.
He glanced around. Other than the circle of dim light filtering in through the reflecting pool, this entire deck was pitch dark. But that challenge, at least, he could handle.
“Out you go, little fellows,” he whispered, pulling a small bottle of lights from a pouch on his belt and unscrewing its lid. Twenty tiny yellow heads peeked out from the rim. They took wing, first one, then the next, then the next, spreading out in a spiral.
Living with bugs had a few advantages. Like getting to know glowglitters. Glowglitters ate darkness, which made them Fin’s best friends. The little bugs chewed at the shadows in front of him, tearing a ragged tunnel through the dark that he could see through.
A few moments later, he could make out his surroundings. This hold was way smaller than the chamber above, its walls covered in weird banners and adorned with statues. Dense writing scrawled across the banners, the same phrase repeated over and over again: