The merrow shrugged again. "It may be more like 'weird, childless horse dung,' or something like that, but I think I'm close."
Regis continued to stare at her for a long time. Then he turned slowly and went back to his throne, sat down, and began rubbing his beard with his hand.
"Mule—that's the weird, childless horse. Mule dung. All this time," he muttered. "All this time, and that's what she was saying."
Tuck cleared his throat. "May we be on our way, then?"
The River King snapped out of his stupor. "No," he said quickly. "No, not yet. I mean, yes, yes, of course, you can go, and without paying anything." He pointed to Amariel. "She's solved the riddle that no one else has been able to solve. So no toll, and no problems. But I would be grateful if you would all stay a little longer, as my guests." He looked at the merrow. "Especially you, if you're willing. I apologize for my actions earlier."
The children looked at each other, and then at Tuck, who shrugged.
"All right," Ven said. "What else do you want?"
The River King stood up quickly. "I'd like you to meet someone," he said. "And if you, my dear, are willing," he said to Amariel, "I'd appreciate it if you would serve as my interpreter for a few minutes. I promise to pay you handsomely."
"All right," said the merrow, sounding annoyed. "Let's get it over with."
"This way," Regis said.
He walked to the other side of the throne room, where an enormous painting of himself hung on the wall. "It's good to be the king," he said loudly. Suddenly, a series of lines appeared in the canvas, splitting into sections and rolling back a moment later like one of King Vandemere's puzzles. A small series of steps rolled down from inside the painting.
"Follow me, please," said the River King.
He led the children and Tuck up the small stairway into a dark and winding tower, with a bright glowing light shining at the top. When he reached the end of the stairway, Regis took a huge ring of keys from his belt, searched quickly until he found the right one, opened a small wooden door at the top of the tower and went into the room.
The children and the forester went inside after him.
Instead of being small and dark like the stairway and the tower, however, the room at the top was bright and full of windows. It was also filled with many beautiful plants, blooming with flowers that filled the air with sweet perfume.
The room was richly furnished, with chairs and a looking glass, and an elegant bed draped with blue, flowing chiffon. Sitting on the bed, looking somewhat surprised, was a beautiful woman with a pale, delicate face and long yellow hair the color of spun flax.
Regis stopped in front of her, waving his hands in excitement.
"Mule dung?" he asked, his voice joyful. "You want us to stop dumping our mule dung in the river? That's all?"
The children looked at each other in confusion. The River King turned to Amariel again.
"Please ask her," he said. "Ask her if that's what she really means."
Amariel stared at the River King, but then she turned to the delicate woman and repeated the question.
"Fleethe sidriel mux, atonay var. Nidley, hrenx."
The woman smiled. "Proste zi limina noduley," she said. Her voice was sweet and musical.
"What did she say?" the River King asked. He rubbed his hands together to wipe off the nervous sweat.
"She says my accent is terrible," said Amariel. "Apparently, so is my grammar. Hmmph."
"Oh." Regis looked disappointed. "Well, can you ask her that thing about the mule dung again, please? If that's all she really wants?"
The merrow relayed the message. The delicate woman nodded. Regis sighed in relief.
"Well, tell her that is something we can definitely arrange," he said. "Is there anything else?"
"She would like to go home now," Amariel told him after the woman had spoken some more. "She misses the water more than you can know."
The River King fell silent. Ven and the others stood respectfully for long time. Finally, when no one else spoke, Clemency cleared her throat.
"Uh, Your Majesty," she asked, "what's going on here? If you don't mind my asking?"
Regis looked up. The merriment was gone from his face, and he looked suddenly older.
"One night more than ten years ago, I woke to find her standing over my bed," he said quietly. "I had no idea where she had come from. I only know the moment I saw her I lost my heart to her completely. But all she would say was the same thing over and over again: Fleethe sidriel mux, atonay var. Nidley, hrenx.
"I did not know what it meant. I asked anyone who came down the river who spoke a language other than my own. I memorized the words, so I might question people in my travels, but until just now no one had ever understood them. I don't know why she came to me. She's not a prisoner here—she seemed insistent on staying until she got an answer, but of course I couldn't give her one. Now it seems that all she wanted was to ask me to keep the river clean. Oh well."
The children looked at one another. Finally Amariel spoke up.
"That's not a small request," she said. "She's a nixie."
The River King's brows drew together. "A nixie? That's not possible. Nixies are evil. They steal children and drown them."
"Feh," Amariel scoffed. "Those are fishwives' tales, sailors' tales. They're not true. The only time a nixie takes a child is if it finds one alone near a riverbank, where no child should be anyway. Nixies feel sorry for such children. Sometimes they take them to their lands beneath the surface of the water, whether fresh or salt, which are some of the most beautiful places in all the world. They always return them. Humans never believe the stories of the children who have been to the nixie realm, but that's 'cause humans are stupid." Her mouth snapped closed when she saw the looks of astonishment on the faces of the king and the other children.
Clem's face turned red. "Speak for yourself, Amariel."
"She is," said Ida, looking amused.
Ven glanced over at Char, who was staring at the merrow as if she had three heads.
"I—I'm not sure I believe you," said the River King haltingly.
Amariel's eyes rolled in exasperation.
"Oh, for goodness sake." She strode across the floor and lifted the hem of the woman's dress, pointing to a wet spot. "See that?" she asked. "Part of clothes always wet: nixie." She dropped the dress, took the woman's lip and curled it back, much to the horror of the River King. "See? Green teeth: nixie. The language is a little hard to understand, but the accent is unmistakable. She's a river nixie, and she came with a message from her people that dumping mule poop into their water is a vile and repulsive thing to do, and she wants you to stop it. There. Riddle solved."
"How do you know all these things, child?" Regis asked in amazement.
Amariel swallowed. "I pay attention in school."
Ven suppressed a chuckle. He knew what kind of school she meant. "So can we go, then?" he asked hopefully. "If you don't have any more questions for the nixie?"
The River King sighed. "Yes, of course."
He led them back down the stairs through the painting, which closed behind them as they stepped beyond it. When he got as far as the throne, he turned to them again.
"I really am very sorry about how I've treated you," he said. "If there is a boon you would like to ask of me, please do, and I will try my best to grant it."
Ven rubbed his chin, feeling the two whiskers standing out in excitement.
"What can you tell us about the river and the lands beyond it, sir?"
"That's a question that could take years to answer," said Regis. "Is there anything specific you'd like to know?"
"Have you heard anything about a rampaging dragon, by any chance?"
The River King sat down on the throne. "As a matter of fact, I have," he said. "Most of ferrymen along the river don't believe in such things, even though riverfolk are a superstitious lot. There has been enough talk over the years, however, to make even the most cynical merchant b
elieve it's possible. There has also been enough death and damage in the Nain settlements to cause traders to stay far away from those places.
"Most of the reports of damage have come from the northeast, near the foothills of the High Reaches, as the great white mountains are called. Those tales have been told for years, but lately there seem to be many more of them. If they are true, somewhere across the Wide Meadows must be a dragon's lair. We deal in many kinds of goods here along the river, but we are very careful to make certain none of them were ever stolen from a dragon.
"Legend says a dragon is so possessive of its treasure that if even the smallest, most worthless item is taken from its hoard, the dragon will move the earth and skies themselves to get it back, even if it has to destroy thousands of acres of land and take many lives to do it. We assume that something has been stolen that the dragon wants back, and it will stop at nothing to get it."
"Do you have any suggestions about how to stay out of its way?" Ven asked.
Regis thought for a moment. "Stay clear of forest glens, caves near rivers, or the highest hummock in a hilly field," he said, "for those are the places dragons are rumored to live. Never take anything that doesn't belong to you—that's always good advice, but it will particularly help you with a dragon. Don't travel through lands where a dragon is rumored to have been seen unless you absolutely have to." He watched the faces of the children fall. "Let me guess—you absolutely have to?"
"It seems that way," said Clemency.
"Ah, well. Just try to mind your own business, I guess. And try not smell too much like a cow or a horse. I hear that's their favorite food."
"Good ta know," said Char. "Thanks."
"You might want to take a bath before we leave, then, Ida," said Amariel helpfully. "I've noticed that you and the horses smell almost exactly the same. I wouldn't want to see you get eaten by the dragon."
"Says the girl who cats think is a rotten fish head," retorted Ida.
Amariel started swishing something around in her mouth.
"If you don't mind my asking, sir, how did you get to be called the King of the River?" Ven asked, stepping between them before the merrow could spit. "Was your father king before you?"
Regis shook his head.
"The world is much too big for any one person to be king over everything, lad," he said. "If you travel very far in it, you will meet many kings and queens. I myself have met several. Being a king is about awareness, knowledge, not just control of a spot on a map. If a place becomes powerful enough, sooner or later it needs someone in charge of it, to take care of it, to pay attention to it. I love the river—I have all my life. It needed me, so I tended to it, for many years, with all my time, and all my effort. Eventually, there was no one who knew it better or cared for it more than me. So I became its king.
"The Great River is an amazing, magnificent entity," he continued. "It divides this island in half, north to south, and is spanned by only four bridges in all the miles it travels. The great ships of the world offload their goods and supplies in the north where the Nain live. Those goods travel down the river to all the towns that are built along it, and are sold to people from both sides of its banks.
"Midway down, near the Wide Meadows, grain from the fields is loaded on barges, along with lots of other kinds of food, and taken to the milltowns both north and south of here. The grain is ground into flour, and continues down the river, along with the other goods, into the forests to the south which you can see from the bridge. All along the way people trade for what they need, and whatever passes through the Enchanted Forest and all the way to the river's mouth is picked up by the stalwart ships that brave the Icefields at the bottom of the world, to take it far across the sea to others who need those goods. The mules the nixie mentioned drag the barges back up the river, and the cycle starts all over again. At one time or another, the river feeds and enriches everyone on the Island and many more in the world beyond it. So while you may think a king rules a river, in fact the real honor is in serving it. It should be that way for any true king. Remember that, lad."
"I will," Ven promised. "Thank you."
"And thank you for your help in solving my riddle," the River King said to Amariel. "What you told me is not what I hoped to hear, but I needed to hear it."
"I suspect if you honor her request, you may hear what you hoped for," said Tuck.
Regis smiled slightly. "Perhaps."
"What are you talkin' about?" demanded Ida.
"Never mind," said Clemency. "I'll explain later."
"Any trolls under your bridge?" Char asked. "We brought cookies."
"No trolls here. This is a toll bridge, not a troll bridge. Well, best of luck to all of you, wherever you're going," the River King said. He stood up from the throne and came down to where Amariel was standing. "Thank you especially, my dear. If you don't mind my asking, are you a nixie yourself?"
Amariel snorted. "Don't be ridiculous," she said. "My teeth aren't green."
"May I see?" Regis asked playfully. "Just for curiosity's sake?"
"NO," said Amariel. She shrank behind Ven.
Amariel is very sensitive about her teeth. She laughed out loud once when I first met her, so I got to see them. They are actually very interesting, shaped a little like the drawings I've seen of whale or porpoise teeth, a little bit pointy, with space between them.
I was very surprised the first time I saw them. I gawked at her, which was unforgivable. I was shipwrecked at the time, and my manners were not up to snuff, but that's no excuse. She disappeared below the surface of the water and I didn't see her again until she saved me by bringing me an empty lifeboat she had found floating.
So she did forgive me eventually. But every time she has smiled since then, her mouth has been tightly closed.
I wish I could make her laugh out loud again. But I don't know if it's ever going to happen.
"I think he should check," said Ida to no one in particular. "Her clothes are always wet, but I think that's because she's not housebroken."
"Maybe it's just spit?" Clemency suggested, while Ida snickered.
"Time to go," said Tuck hastily.
"Good fortune in your endeavors," said Regis. He let out a long, low whistle, and in response two of his guards came running into the room. "Give these gentlefolk whatever supplies they ask for, and let the children eat all they want at the festival. Then give them safe passage across the bridge and wish them safety on their way, as I do."
"Thank you, sir," said Ven, "and best of luck to you as well."
"Call me Regis," the River King said. "I never did take well to 'sir.' "
They started toward the stairway when Amariel suddenly froze. She walked away onto a small balcony to the south, then waved for Ven to follow her.
On the balcony was a strange, twisted telescope with a small red stool in front of it.
"Is that the strange, twisty-looking thing in your dream?" Ven asked.
The merrow nodded.
"Would you like to look through it?" Regis asked. "It faces the southern sea."
Amariel said nothing. She climbed up onto the stool and peered through the lens while the River King adjusted it for her. Finally she nodded excitedly, and he stepped away, allowing her to enjoy the view.
"What is it you see?" Ven asked.
"Shhh," whispered the merrow, continuing to stare through the telescope. "I see an underwater city, with a great dome of bubbles to hold in the air."
"The thing must twist until it can see inside her head," said Ida, smirking.
Ven scowled at the Thief Queen's daughter, then when Amariel was done took a turn looking through the odd device. At first all he could see was an endless expanse of sea past the great forest to the south, but after a moment a ring of clouds came into view.
"I—I think I see the Floating Island!" he said excitedly. "Char, come look at this!"
The cook's mate stepped up to the eyepiece. "I dunno what you're talkin' about," he said after a momen
t. "I see a large field o' grass, like a meadow or sumthin', where a picnic's takin' place. Strange. I could swear I've seen that place before."
The River King smiled. "You have," he said. "The telescope only shows you real places you've been to that you dream about."
"Let's see," said Clemency. She took Char's place, stared for a long time, then shook her head and stepped away.
"What did you see?" Ven asked.
Clem shrugged. "Just the sea. Oh well. I don't dream very much. I sleep the sleep of the Just."
"Just what?" Amariel asked. Clemency shot her a sharp glance.
"The Just—you know, the people who have nothing to be ashamed of."
"They loaned their sleep to you? You didn't have any of your own? Hmmm. You must have a lot to be ashamed of."
Clemency took a step closer to the merrow, but Ven jumped in between them.
"How about it, Saeli? Do you want to have a look?"
The Gwadd girl nodded. Char boosted her up, and she stared into the lens for a long time. Finally she seemed satisfied and stepped down.
"What did you see, Saeli?" Clemency asked.
"Home." The word came out part growl, part sigh.
"How 'bout you, Ida?" Char offered. "You gonna look?"
Ida shook her head vigorously.
"This way, then," said Regis.
They followed the guards down to the courtyard where the wagon was waiting. While the servants fed and watered their horses and filled the wagon with extra supplies, the children gobbled down sweets and berries, cheese and sausages and biscuits and all the fresh cider they could drink. By the time Tuck summoned them, they were full and happy and chatting excitedly.
They waved goodbye to the River King, who had come to see them off.
"One last boon?" Tuck said as he mounted the wagon board.
"Name it," said Regis.
"Once we've crossed the bridge, forget that we were here. Remember nothing but our good wishes."
The River King smiled. "I do that every day," he said. "Happy travels to you, whoever you were."
The wagon clattered as they drove away over the floorboards of the enormous bridge, leaving the beautiful river palace behind.