The Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates #1 (29 page)

Behind her stood Oliver and Admiral Westfield. Oliver wasn't smirking anymore, and both of them looked bruised, bedraggled, and slightly embarrassed to be surrounded by a gaggle of Miss Pimm's girls, who stood stern and fearsome in their matching woolen dresses and green cardigans. Hilary searched the crowd for Claire but couldn't make her out.

Miss Pimm herself reached the pirates first. She looked them up and down. Her gaze settled for a moment on Hilary, and a thin, familiar, stained-glass smile flickered across her lips. “I'm afraid,” she said at last, “that you have all behaved rather poorly.” She crossed her arms and shook her head. “It simply cannot be tolerated.”

 

T
he
D
ancing
S
heep
A F
loating
D
ivision
of
M
iss
P
imm's
F
inishing
S
chool
for D
elicate
L
adies

Dear Queen Adelaide,

You may be quite surprised to hear from me, for we have never met. In fact, you may be under the impression that I no longer exist. I assure you, however, that this impression is false: I am alive and well, though I trust you will not advertise the fact to anyone beyond your closest royal advisers.

Since my retirement, I have not paid much attention to magical misdeeds in the kingdom. Such matters were, I believed, best left in the care of the royal inspectors. The recent string of magical thefts caught my interest, however, and I soon learned that your inspectors were making quite a hash of the investigation, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I would have preferred to stay out of the mess entirely, but it seemed to be rather serious. Besides, one can't always do exactly as one likes, even when one is as old as I am.

I created a little trap to lure in the villains, and I must admit that I took the opportunity to amuse myself. (After all one rarely has the chance to use invisible ink in the course of running a finishing school!) I am pleased to inform you that the trap has been a great success, and I have caught the scoundrels responsible for the magical thefts. You will not be surprised to hear that they are pirates, and they are quite a nasty lot—both thieves and kidnappers! They are led by one Jasper Fletcher, who is known to be the Southlands. I trust the Royal Dungeons have sufficient security to keep him locked up for quite some time.

I have not yet recovered the stolen magical items, but Admiral Westfield has kindly offered to help me in this endeavor. We sail for Pemberton immediately.

Your humble servant,

Eugenia Pimm

Enchantress of the Northlands (Retired)

an extract
From

T
reasure
H
unting for
B
eginners:

THE OFFICIAL VNHLP GUIDE

WHAT TO DO IF YOU ARE
CAPTURED:

A
re you really so careless that you have been captured
in the act of obtaining treasure? Are you entirely sure that you are cut out for piracy? We at the VNHLP
are gravely concerned. Don't expect us to risk our necks rescuing you. You will have to get yourself out of this one on your own.

Of course, since you have proven your incompetence in piracy by getting captured, it is highly unlikely that you will be able to escape. If you inform the VNHLP of your new address in the Royal Dungeons, we will send you greeting cards on your birthday and major holidays. Membership in the VNHLP is, of course, revoked upon your capture. If you are proven innocent, you may reapply for membership, but it is best to face the facts: you are a pirate, and pirates are never innocent.

“W
HO
,”
SAID
J
ASPER
, “is this terrifying woman?”

“It's Miss Pimm,” said Hilary, at the same moment as the gargoyle said, “It's the Enchantress!”

Miss Pimm smiled and extended her hand to Jasper. “Both of your companions are correct,” she said, “although their manners leave a good deal to be desired.”

Hilary stared at her. “You're the Enchantress of the Northlands?”

“You mustn't let your mouth hang open like that, my dear,” Miss Pimm replied, “unless you care to swallow a fly. I
was
the Enchantress. I am now retired.” She paused. “My goodness, is that the gargoyle I carved for Simon Westfield? I haven't seen you in centuries. You must be the fearsome beast I've heard so much about.”

Hilary picked up the gargoyle, who was beaming at Miss Pimm. “You used to look a lot younger,” he said.

“So I did,” said Miss Pimm with a sniff. “And I believe you had a full set of limbs when I saw you last.”

“Simon Westfield?” said Hilary to the gargoyle. “The same Simon Westfield we've got in our stained-glass window at home? The aeronaut?” Claire had mentioned once that Miss Pimm had fallen in love with an aeronaut, but Hilary hadn't imagined he might have been one of her long-ago ancestors. And Simon Westfield had died over two hundred years ago! “You never told me you knew Simon Westfield.”

The gargoyle shrugged. “There's not much to tell. He hardly ever came to visit me on my wall. And he wasn't very chatty.”

Jasper had turned to Miss Pimm. “Forgive me for asking such an indelicate question,” he said, “but how is it possible that you are the Enchantress of the Northlands? You'd have to be, er—”

“Two hundred and thirty-eight years old,” Miss Pimm interrupted. “All I can say is that my work keeps me young.” She nodded to the girls behind her. “Well, that and the magic, of course.”

Charlie had ducked behind Hilary at the sight of an approaching army of finishing-school girls, but now he stepped forward. “If you really are the Enchantress,” he said, “why don't you tell us where your treasure is? It's obviously not here.” He kicked the empty treasure chest.

But Miss Pimm simply laughed. “I've kept that information under lock and key for the past two hundred years,” she said, “and it would be absurd to share it now, especially with a pirate.” She peered down her nose at Charlie. “Aren't you a bit young to be a pirate, my boy? Shouldn't you be in school?”

Charlie tried to protest, but Miss Pimm had no intention of pausing. “And Miss Westfield,” she said, turning to Hilary, “I can't tell you what a relief it is to find you safe and sound! I can only imagine how harrowing your kidnapping must have been. Abducted by common thieves! It's lucky you had the gargoyle to protect you. But never fear—we'll have you back at finishing school in three shakes of a lamb's tail. Your father must be just as relieved as I am. Why don't you go say hello to him, dear?”

Behind Miss Pimm, Admiral Westfield tugged at his collar and frowned. When Miss Pimm turned to look at him, however, he summoned up a feeble smile and opened his arms. “Ever so good to see you, Hilary,” he said. “Been terribly worried, of course.”

Hilary held on tightly to Miss Greyson's hand. “I'm afraid there's been a mistake,” she said. “I wasn't kidnapped. I ran away, and it certainly wasn't Jasper's fault, or Charlie's or Miss Greyson's, either. Besides, they're not thieves.” Hilary glanced at the stolen treasure map in Jasper's hand. “Not usually, at least. They're pirates—and so am I.”

Miss Pimm stepped forward and pried Hilary's hand out of Miss Greyson's grasp. “Oh, my dear,” she said. “A sweet young girl like yourself a pirate? I know you've had a terribly confusing time, but you mustn't let these criminals addle your brain any more.” Hilary tried to wriggle free, but Miss Pimm was surprisingly strong. She pushed Hilary forward into the waiting arms of Admiral Westfield, who smelled of tobacco and pig trough.

At this, Jasper drew his sword. “Let her go, you miserable—” he began, but at a gesture from Miss Pimm, the girls behind her raised their golden crochet hooks and murmured a muddle of polite-sounding requests. Jasper dropped his sword as though it had burned him. Charlie reached for his own sword in response, but his arm froze in midair, and Miss Greyson muttered a pirate curse as her hand came to a halt halfway to her crochet hook. None of them seemed to be able to lift their feet from the ground.

Hilary wished she could run to them, but Admiral Westfield held her tightly. How could Miss Pimm approve of such shocking behavior? Her girls were acting even more abominably than the burly pirate in Middleby had; no decent pirate would engage in such an unfair fight. “Please, Miss Pimm,” she said, “you've got to let them go.”

“I'm afraid,” said Miss Pimm, “that the only place these scallywags will be going is the Royal Dungeons.”

“The Dungeons?” Jasper sputtered. “And what, pray tell, have we done to deserve such treatment?”

Miss Pimm walked calmly in a circle around Jasper. “I should think it's perfectly obvious. You've been stealing magical objects from Augusta's most noble citizens for months. I've heard reports that a man and a boy have been involved in these thefts, and it's clear that you”—she gestured to Jasper and Charlie—“are the villains in question. I must admit that I don't know what you're planning to do with the magic you've stolen, but as you're the Terror of the Southlands, Mr. Fletcher, I assume it can't be anything good.”

“But, Enchantress,” said the gargoyle, “they haven't—”

“Don't bother defending the pirates, my dear gargoyle; it's no use. The very fact that they are here is evidence enough of their guilt. When I set out to catch these villains, I asked myself what a thief of magic would most desire. The largest stash of magic in Augusta seemed to be rather a safe bet, so I set loose a rumor that my treasure had surfaced at last. Then I drew up a map—the very map you hold in your hand, Mr. Fletcher—and sent it to a small museum in Queensport, where the guards simply sat back and waited for it to be stolen. I should congratulate you, Mr. Fletcher, for conducting the theft in very short order. I hoped my little game would lure the thieves to this spot so I could catch them in the act of stealing magic—and my hopes have been rewarded, for here you stand.”

“A brilliant trap. Well done, Miss Pimm,” said Admiral Westfield. “Well done indeed!”

Hilary spun around to face him. “Don't be ridiculous! You know perfectly well that
you're
the one who stole the map in the first place; you're the one who's been stealing the kingdom's magic. If anyone should be sent to the Royal Dungeons, it's you and Oliver!”

Admiral Westfield stepped back as though Hilary had struck him. “Don't you dare speak that way,” he said quietly. “I am your father, and I will not have you spreading wicked tales about me.” He looked at Miss Pimm and shrugged. “I apologize for the girl's behavior,” he said. “This is what comes of spending time with pirates.”

“I certainly understand,” said Miss Pimm. “Actually, James, I must admit that I had my own suspicions about you at first. I had heard you were planning a treasure-hunting expedition to Gunpowder Island, and—well, you can imagine my reaction.” Miss Pimm looked modestly down at her dancing-sheep pin. “Now, of course, I see that you were simply trying to track Mr. Fletcher down yourself. I would expect no less from a Westfield, and I commend you for doing your best to stop these pirates.”