Mearsies Heili Bounces Back

  “You put the grab on us, so it’s only fair that we do it to you,” I added. “And,” I couldn’t resist adding, “we aren’t doing anything nasty and disgusting like turning you into creepy stuff. Like you did.”

  “You don’t know enough magic,” he said snidely.

  So much for my being superior.

  “Yes I do,” I shot back, though it wasn’t true. At least it wasn’t true because I didn’t want to do anything that nasty.

  But I wasn’t going to tell him anything.

  We stayed like that for a couple of days. I kept at my end of the hideout. Later on I heard teenage boy voices arguing, and went out to nose. Puddlenose leaned in the doorway, laughing, as Jilo said something I couldn’t hear. He sounded angry. I didn’t want to know what they were blabbing about, especially as they did it in Chwahir.

  Dhana and Seshe, our best now that Diana was out, reported that the forest was full of searching Chwahir.

  Then came a sailor late at night, saying that Wesset North was ready to rise—and the Chwahir were suspicious. They had increased their patrols, looking for someone to bag and to blame, according to the captain.

  So it was time to act.

  “We’re going upstairs,” I said, though my insides jellied at the thought. “Seshe, if we have any sleepweed, put it in Jilo’s food, so he’ll konk out.”

  This was done, and we left—but then I remembered that 1) we didn’t have our own transport spell any more, and 2) I couldn’t do magic.

  I didn’t want to take the long way, and so I whistled up Hreealdar, the horse who turns into lightning. (Or maybe he’s lightning that takes horse form.) Anyway, I went up first, and snuck into the White Palace, which was almost deserted. The captain was right—the Chwahir were all below the cloud-city.

  I went straight to Clair’s magic chambers, though I almost didn’t find it. An illusion spell made the door look like a wall—but just when I hesitated, the spell sort of blurred, I put out my hand, and only found air. Inside, I searched through the magic books to try to find a way to break the spells on me ... but what I found I could barely understand. One thing was for sure. If I tried and blew it, the ward could double on me somehow, and make me vanish into the between—where people went who lost control of a transfer spell. Typical black magic nastiness.

  Baggies! So magic was definitely out.

  Once I knew the others were upstairs, I ignored the pocketa-pocketa of my heart, and marched to the throne room, whispering pocalubes to keep my courage up. Baggies. Baglionettes. Klonkliobags. Snarkleodeon. And there was Kwenz—busy with some books of his own.

  He looked up sharply. “So it’s true. You did leave the Holder.”

  His tone was not promising.

  “I did, because it’s my duty, so get offa that thar throne! I’ve got your heir, and if you don’t go away, we’ll cut him into bits and turn them into cricket pelts.”

  Guards appeared, and flanked me.

  “No,” Kwenz said.

  The guards grabbed me. At a motion of the Finger of Doom, one pulled a knife and jabbed me in the back of my neck with it.

  “You have one chance to tell me where the wards are—”

  “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” I screeched.

  “Kill her.”

  Just as lightning started at the side of my neck the rest of me oozed into darkness. As I passed out, I heard noises.

  o0o

  When I came out, Seshe was sitting beside me. “I wrapped up the cut,” she said.

  “What happened, what happened,” I tried to croak. It came out sounding like warble wark! But Seshe understood.

  She said, “First, Puddlenose clubbed Kwenz from behind. The guards were too busy looking at you, and so Puddlenose got right behind Kwenz. So we have Kwenz, and Jilo, and used the threat over them to get the guards tied up and locked in a cupboard. But Chwahir captains keep coming around looking for Kwenz to get orders. They obviously don’t know what to do, and Puddlenose said they get terrible punishments if they do things on their own. But that’s not going to last long. We’ve got to find Clair.”

  I got up, though it hurt to move. “Meet in the kitchens—if the Chwahir aren’t there.”

  “No, they all seem to be downstairs, waiting for orders.”

  “I hoped capturing Kwenz would somehow fix things, but it didn’t.”

  Well, the other kids joined me. We sat at the table where we’d shared so many happy meals, but no one smiled now. The faces around me ranged from solemn to anxious. Faline looked so pale her freckles stood out.

  I said, “Puddlenose, you were the last one to see Clair. Tell us again exactly what happened.”

  He went through the whole stupid story one more time, very carefully. It was pretty much like he had described it when aboard the Tzasilia. “... and then it was like she sank through the floor, and she was gone.”

  “Sank through the floor.”

  He shrugged. “That’s what it seemed like to me.”

  “What’s right below? ... Nothing. Just the mountain. So much for that idea.”

  We sat in gloom while I thought over everything, including my dream. Not that I put much stock in dreams, but it had been so vivid. Only the dream had just been weird, bright colors and no recognizable ...

  “Oh.”

  Everyone stopped talking.

  “Oh.”

  “Uh, CJ? Hurting too much?” Irene asked, pointing to my neck.

  “What’s right below the throne room?”

  “Mount Marcus,” everyone said (except for Dhana, who said, “My Lake,” and Faline, who said, “Gorbaggio”).

  “The caves.”

  Silence.

  “Yes!”

  “The caves!”

  “She must be there!”

  I said, “Who’s going with me?”

  Now everybody looked out the windows—at the floor—the ceiling—the sugar bowl.

  “Then I’ll go alone.” By then my neck was throbbing badly, and I felt dizzy and weird. “First thing come morning, then.”

  It was late, but no one had had a bite to eat all day. And so, despite the situation, Seshe tried the kitchen magic—and sure enough, waiting beyond time was Janil’s last meal for us, hot and ready. I have to tell the truth, the sight of mashed potatoes with chicken gravy, string beans, and roast chicken made me feel like crying.

  From the continued silence, I was not the only one.

  We ate, being ready to run at the first sign of trouble. But there wasn’t any. The Chwahir were all busy searching below, either for Jilo or for the mysterious attackers, because we didn’t know it, but the sailors had begun by burning down the Chwahir barracks in a bunch of places, and attacking their outposts, and stealing their horses.

  Also, the Chwahir hated the atmosphere of the White Palace, with its ancient magic and shifting rooms and things. We found out later one gang of them tried to loot a room—but when they went through the door, they vanished, and never came back.

  Unaware of all that, I climbed up high in one tower, and looked out over the moonlight forest. It had been days since it had rained. The ground needed moisture, but the balmy air did good for my spirit. It was horrible not having Clair back. The kingdom was sort of free and sort of not ... we had to get her back ... had to ...

  I fell asleep right there.

  o0o

  And got two volunteers the next day, Seshe and Puddlenose.

  So I called Hreealdar again, and the three of us squished on for the short ride straight down.

  Then in we went. The cavern entrance is near the source of the waterfall into the Lake. For a while, it’s just gloomy cavern, but then you get to the area of the glowing gems. The air is so pure it’s hard to breathe, so you think you’re hot and breathless and you become giddy, and the colors dazzle your eyes, and you’d swear you hear singing, whispered singing, if that makes any sense.

  Presently Seshe said, “Can’t move. Parking here.”

  Puddlenose joined her. r />
  I pushed on, hoping I was right. My mood kept veering between certainty and gloom. What if I was wrong? What would we do to get Clair back? Not having her back I couldn’t bear to consider.

  At last I reached a brilliant room, where one diamond was brighter than all the others. This was the one you could think things at, and sometimes you’d hear this inner voice, or see inner visions, or hear whispers that were almost words ... and you’d get your answer.

  I touched it, somehow knowing it was right—and in a snap of light there stood Clair.

  We grabbed each other in a tight hug, though I gasped when my bandage pulled. Clair jumped back, and looked upset.

  “Just a slice,” I said. “Chwahir. Nothing bad. But we need you!”

  “First let me get that ward off you.”

  She whispered. In that atmosphere the magic potential was so strong she easily handled spells that otherwise took concentration, and so she did some rapid magic. My head panged, then it was all there again—all my magic knowledge!

  “Puddlenose and Seshe are out there,” I said, and as we began to walk, “so what happened?”

  “I told you once I’d prepared some surprises. Just in case they tried something.”

  “I remember.”

  “You didn’t know enough about magic then for me to explain. I looked through all the records to see what kinds of wards the Chwahir usually put over a place if they took it over. I build the counter wards, and put the key to the enchantment on me. I hoped that I could get away if I felt anything going on, but if they killed me, they would never break the enchantments. My warning spell worked, though just barely, because the Chwahir were storming in at the same time Kwenz did his magic. But I did get away, where I knew even if he traced me, he couldn’t get me.”

  “Wow, that was smart,” I marveled, and as we walked out, I gave her a fast rundown on what had happened. I got to finding Diana when two voices exclaimed, “Clair!”

  We reached the others. Puddlenose grabbed Clair and swung her around, and Seshe laughed for joy.

  Clair beamed at them, then said to me, “It was only smart because you came for me. You could have left me there, you know.”

  “No I couldn’t,” I shot back. “Kwenz is out cold up there—we got Jilo in the Junky—warriors all around—it’s a mess.”

  “You could have solved that,” she said soberly. “You could have taken over MH. Or you could have stayed where they sent you. Or when you escaped, you could have roamed the world, free and clear.”

  “No, no, and no.” I made a fish face. “And it wasn’t nice at Raneseh’s. Oh, it wasn’t a dungeon. I didn’t have any of the problems that Irene had—despite that stinker Rel. But it was horrible to be away from home, and knowing that Kwenz had crunched you and MH.”

  “Maybe,” Clair said, and took a deep breath. “My head is foggy from the magic, and everything else. But one thing is clear. The best thing that ever happened was when you came.”

  FOURTEEN

  I felt really good about that all the way upstairs.

  Then all the worries glopped onto us, one splat at a time.

  But Clair had plans in place. She transferred Kwenz to the Shadow, then said, “He’ll know as soon as he comes out of it that he failed.”

  “What about Jilo?” Puddlenose asked, wiggling his brows.

  “Blindfold him again, and send him home, of course,” Clair said. “I’ll come with you. I just need to get the book that has the spell, then we can reverse the transformation on Diana.”

  And that’s what happened.

  Clair departed on a magic-transfer journey to the mayors, while we went back to the Junky to wait for the sailors to return.

  It took a few days for the Chwahir to go back to where they belonged, and for our people to get back to normal life. Kwenz did not communicate—he’d failed to defeat Clair’s defensive magic, and his evil brother couldn’t get mad because (as it turned out) the alliance of free traders had been joined by the local navies, none of whom wanted any Chwahir fleets passing by full of warriors. They kept the fleet of reinforcements so busy that Shnit couldn’t keep his end of his promise to send warriors (oh, and incidentally take over from Kwenz, is our guess).

  Everything was back to the way it should be ... except for two things.

  The first was Captain Heraford.

  I thought they’d just vanish. After all, he’d said something about being in trouble a long time ago. But when they came back to the Junky to make sure everything was really okay, Clair was there in the main room when he and the sailors came down the tunnel.

  Captain Heraford stopped, looking surprised. Then his expression turned sort of serious and sort of wry, and he performed an elaborate bow, kind of like the one he gave me when we first met. “Your majesty, I take it?”

  “It’s all right,” Puddlenose said. “This is just Clair—and she knows how you helped us. How many times you saved us.”

  Clair looked up at the captain for a moment, then said, “If you like, please come up to the White Palace.”

  She vanished.

  Captain Heraford made a slightly pained smile. “Nobody told me she was a Morvende.”

  “She isn’t,” Puddlenose said. “Just has white hair. We figure maybe there’s Morvende in our family history.”

  Captain Heraford rubbed his eyes, then he said, “Why did she go like that?”

  “So you have a chance to leave, if you like,” Seshe said calmly. “She knows about our first meeting—what you told us.”

  “She doesn’t know who I am,” he said.

  None of us had an answer to that.

  But when I said, “The transfer spell works again. I can take us all upstairs,” he nodded.

  And so we all went to the White Palace. Clair met us in the magic chamber. She sat there on a table with books all around her, wearing her usual knee pants and plain cotton top, but somehow she seemed serious and she even had, oh, I guess the best word is dignity.

  “I know the girls did their best because this is their home,” she said. “If they wanted rewards, I would give them what I can—”

  “Ugh,” I honked.

  “Ugh indeed.” Irene crossed her arms, her chin high.

  “A party!” Faline rubbed her hands. “With chocolate pie.”

  “We’d have that anyway,” Sherry said.

  “But we could call it a Triumph,” Puddlenose put in, finger pointing upward. “I’ve seen those, Triumphs. Mostly speeches and junk. Yours would be fun.”

  “No speeches!” five girls said at once.

  “Except funny ones,” Sherry whispered.

  Captain Heraford smiled at us, then said to Clair, “Heraford is not my name. My family name earned—”

  Clair raised her hand. “I thought the Hera River might have something to do with your past.”

  “The ford is where I made my break for freedom. But loyalties die hard, I find,” he said.

  Clair smiled. “So everybody proved. Look. What happened to you back then is the past. It’s a good name, Heraford. Why don’t you keep it, and that will be your true name?”

  This time when Captain Heraford bowed, there was none of that faint air of mockery.

  “Now, what reward do you ask? I’ll grant it if I can.”

  “A new start,” he said.

  The sailors were silent, and so were the girls. Even Faline was quiet—but she didn’t know Captain Heraford.

  “You have that. You are a citizen of Mearsies Heili, Captain Heraford. In turn, I have something to ask of you. Would you be our navy?”

  Puddlenose’s eyes grew round.

  “I can offer pay. We really need protection around the Tornacios, and also for our traders, when they go east with the winter winds.”

  “Whose orders would I be under?” Captain Heraford asked cautiously.

  “Your own. Unless I had need. I can give you one of the magic blotters that you saw in the Junky. I know how to make one. If I need you, I’d write to
you on that. In turn, I can give your people pay, and also, magical protection on your ship.”

  “Done,” Captain Heraford said, his weather-brown face reddening. He grinned like a kid.

  And we sent up a cheer for our new, one-ship navy.

  So that night we celebrated with a party. Clair got the musicians to come over and play, and the party spilled over into the cloud top, as the night was balmy, the sailors doing their dances out on the terrace steps between the palace and the street that leads down the middle of the cloud top.

  The next day the new navy (and Puddlenose) left to take up their new job—and right behind them, pushing them eastward, came rain at last.

  o0o

  For several days it rained intermittently. I prowled around while Clair was busy with queening junk. While the girls tackled cleaning and organizing the Junky again (not that the sailors left it in bad shape, they didn’t, but everything was all shoved around) I hit the books, studying magic until I felt like my brains were bulging out. I finally took a break in order to see if I had actually remembered any of what I’d studied.

  Finally Clair came in when I was eating lunch over a magic book.

  “Busy?” she said.

  “I tried to call up this stuff about several person transfers, and found out I remembered two of the ten spells I memorized yesterday. Sort of remembered them. Arglebargle!”

  She sat down, and helped herself to a crispy cabbage roll. On the other side of the kitchen Janil was humming as she supervised putting the kitchens back in order. The Chwahir cook had changed everything around.

  “Where are the girls?”

  “Irene wants to make a trip to Elchnudaeb to find out what PJ is saying about us. That’s why the spell. If I can’t figure it out, she and Faline and Sherry will go the regular way.”

  Clair gave her kitten-squeak of a laugh. “Do they think they’ll hear anything good?”

  “Faline is hoping to hear something funny, of course.”

  Clair said, “And you?”

  “Snarglesplat,” I groaned. “Let’s go outside.”

  We stashed our plates and went out on the back terrace, which was under a balcony, so we could see the rain but not get rained on, as the air had turned cold.