The Wand & the Sea (14 page)

The moment she spoke, a great cracking noise, like a giant breaking walnuts, resounded through the cottage. Holly and Jade exchanged a puzzled look, then ran outside.

Several of the trees around the clearing had broken off at their stumps, lying like huge jackstraws in the dark, damp forest. Almaric was standing on the edge of the mess, arguing furiously with someone. An enormous dark bulk loomed behind them, but Holly couldn't make out what it was, nor who Almaric was yelling at. But a moment later the figure gently put aside the old magician and walked toward her, dragging a few other, shorter people. Holly peered into the blackness. Just then the moon shifted out of the clouds and lit up the glade.

It was a tall, slender man, dressed in a long, fitted coat with flared sleeves and waist. He wore breeches and high boots, and beneath the coat, a white shirt strung across with a cutlass and all manner of scabbards. Beneath his tricornered hat flowed a mass of long black curls. He shoved his charges into the moonlight and grinned at her. Everett and Ben, along with the prince, tumbled out of his grasp onto the damp ground.

“There, Lady Adept. Mayhap these be the lads ye're askin' after?” called the young man.

No, not man,
Holly thought, unable to speak.
Pirate.

Holly sat in the warmth of Almaric's now quite crowded sitting room, listening to the boys explain what had just happened to them. Gathered around the hearth with her and Jade were the old magician, the young pirate, and the three boys. She jumped up when they had finished talking and ran to the window, through which she could just glimpse the looming shape that sat at the edge of the glade. “You mean that”—she turned back to the pirate—“is a
boat
?”

“Did ye, or did ye not, call up the sea witch?” said the captain.

“Yes, ah . . .” Almaric stuttered a bit. “I suppose we did, yes.”

“Then ye've no cause to complain when she shows.”

Holly was confused. “But where
is
she?”

“That be the
Sea Witch
, past yon oak tree,” said the pirate proudly.

“It
is
the ship, my lady,” Almaric explained.

“We conjured
that
?” Ben said. “Cool!”

Almaric hastened to explain to the captain that it was the sea hag who had done the conjuring, and they certainly hadn't expected the ship to appear in the forest, knocking down trees left and right.

The pirate held out a leathery hand to Holly. His fingers were joined with a transparent webbing, like a frog's. “Morgan, captain of the
Sea Witch
.”

“So you came up out of the moat?” Ben said, breathless. If Holly hadn't known better, she'd have thought he had opened a brand-new version of Planeterra Six.

“Aye, lad,” said Morgan. He tapped the mug that Almaric had given him, and the magician gave him a sour look before fetching whatever it was that he wanted. “We came as summoned. When we saw men overboard, Oggler hauled ye three on deck.”

“That moat can't be more than five meters deep,” Everett said, sounding confused.

“Oh, Ev, it's not a
regular
boat, is it, Captain?” said Ben, as if he knew all about it.

“The
Sea Witch
is like no other.”

Holly tried to picture it: The great ship rising out of the moat, throwing spray onto the castle gatehouse as the knights scrambled out of the way. And now they were stuck with Avery, who sat staring at the floor. His blond hair had started to dry in the warmth of the hearth and was curling at the edges. Why had the boys brought him along?

“Well?” Holly nudged him. “What happened to Bittenbender and Swikehard?” She felt a sudden surge of loyalty to the Dvergar. She didn't really like them, but at least they weren't one of the enemy.

The prince made an attempt at a withering stare. “I see no cause to speak with thee.”

“I seen the Dvergar, if that's who ye mean,” the pirate cut in. “Just as we surfaced, the little rogues gained the shore and ran off into the wood. Fine friends, them.”

“A friend to the Adept, perhaps,” said Avery.

Almaric gave the prince a stern look. “I think it in your best interest to treat Her Ladyship with due respect, Your Highness.”

“Yer
Highness
?” The captain gave a low whistle. “So that's who we've captured, eh? Ye'll be greeting the dawn from the yardarm, laddie, if any of the crew find out.”

“They just left you there to drown,” Holly muttered. Another picture formed in Holly's mind: Ben flailing in the water while the Dvergar fled through the trees. “If I ever see them again . . .” She couldn't steady her voice. She wanted very much to have Bittenbender in front of her, to see what the wand could do to him.

“Hardly men of honor,” Avery confirmed.

“What d'you expect?” Ben said. “You've enslaved and slaughtered their people. They're hardly going to be your best friends.”

“It's not as if you haven't betrayed
us
before,” Everett added.

“Thine own magic proved false enough,” Avery shot back.

“Hey, we were ready to take you back to our world last year!”

“Be silent, squire!”

“I'm not your squire anymore, and anyway, I was
Everett's
.”

A burst of orange flame shot up through the roof of the cottage, sending little cinders of thatch floating to the floor. Everyone stopped talking and stared at Holly, who gave Áedán a little pat before letting him crawl back onto her shoulder.

“
I
want to see the nautical maps.” She looked pointedly at Everett, fearing the answer. “You do have them, right?”

Everett's satchel was sopping wet, but at least it was mostly waterproof. The sheets of parchment were just a little damp. Holly unrolled them and spread them out on Almaric's low table.

“That be no sea chart,” said Morgan in a low voice, glancing at Holly.

He was right. The first in the stack was a land map of Anglielle, and many of the rest were dull: Some showed tenant farmers' borders, the locations of prime water sources, and surveys of hunting lands. But finally, in the middle of the stack, Morgan put a grimy webbed index finger on the parchment. “Drown and sink me if
that
not be a proper sea chart.”

The map, yellowed with age, showed Anglielle as a roughly triangular island with a broad sea off its western coast. To the north, a few lonely islands were scattered here and there, and to the south, a lumpy-looking coastline, unfinished.

“That must be Europe,” Everett said, pointing to it. “Or . . . whatever it's called. But the Channel is far too wide. And where's Ireland?”

Everett was right: the Channel looked as wide as the Mediterranean Sea. And scrawled across the undefined coast was the word
PESTILENCE
, with a drawing of a skull and crossbones.

“They haven't mapped very much,” Holly said.

“My father doth not employ seafarers.” Avery nudged Ben out of the way to get a better look. “His court hath ne'er been to sea.”

“This has naught to do with yer father, lad.” Morgan pointed to a corner of the map, where a notation read:

Drawn by the Royal Cartographer Étaín
by Order of His Royal Majesty King Lancet II

“This map is too old. It was drawn before Reynard's time,” Holly said.

“Long before.” Jade startled everyone by leaping onto the table. “This map was commissioned by Lancet the Second. The king who preceded Reynard was Lancet the Fourth.” Jade wrinkled his nose at Avery as if he smelled bad. “Your Highness's grandfather.”

Avery blushed.

The other maps weren't much better. Some later ones showed a few more islands dotted here and there, but none were labeled with anything like what they'd hoped. Instead they had strange names like Isle of the Forgotten and Land of a Thousand Eyes. And still that wide, empty sea stretched away to the west.

“This is no good,” Holly said. “We need a map showing us where the Adepts were exiled to.”

Morgan pushed back from the table. His black eyes searched each face. “So it's the Adepts ye're after? And ye think my crew can—or
want
—to help ye find 'em?”

Almaric smiled in a kind of frozen grimace. “Er . . . that would be correct, Captain. Who knows the seas better than yourself? And, if I'm not mistaken, you are no friend to the king these days.”

“These days?” Ben asked. “When
were
you his friend?”

“Never,” Avery said at once. “The king does not consort with brigands.”

“I think ye'll find there's more'n one thing ye don't know about yer father, lad,” said Morgan.

Áedán crawled over to Holly's left shoulder. He was restless when nervous, and Holly didn't blame him. “So which is it?” She did her best to look the captain in the eye. “Whose side are you on?”

“I'm on the side of the
Sea Witch
and her crew. We answer to no one.”

Which was exactly what Holly would expect a pirate to say.

“At one time,” Almaric added, “the captain did have a—well—agreement with His Majesty. Am I not correct?”

“Any accord we had was good only till the job were done.” Morgan grunted at his empty mug, then looked at the prince. “Where d'ye think ye get yer sugar, lad? And yer cinnamon? And wolfroot, lamb's-hip tea, and all the rest? Only
my
crew were willin' to brave those waters to the west and bring the kingdom such delicacies. And we were well paid fer it. Until . . .”

“Until?” Holly prompted.

“Something's been afoot the last twelvemonth or more,” said the captain. “The king wants more from us, fer less money. He asks us to go farther and farther to sea, to uncharted waters, dangerous islands. And now it's not payment he's offerin', but
threats
.”

“But why?” Ben asked. “Does he want you to find gold or something?”

“Aye,” said Morgan darkly. “Or something.”

“What?” everyone asked together.

“Same as ye all want,” said Morgan, sitting back in his chair. “He wants the Adepts.”

“That doesn't make any sense,” said Everett. “He was the one who exiled them. I thought he knew where they were.” He appealed to Almaric. “Right?”

“Perhaps the Sorcerer enchanted them,” said the magician. “No doubt he hid them so completely that even he does not know where they are—like dropping a pebble into the sea.”

“However it happened, the king wants 'em found,” said Morgan. “Or someone else does.”

“Raethius of the Source,” Holly said. The others looked at her, and she could tell that they all felt the way she did at the mention of the Sorcerer's name—that, despite the cozy fire, something had sucked all the light and warmth from the room. The captain raised his eyebrows in assent.

“But I don't see why he wants you to find them,” Holly went on. “They'll just join together and bring down his power. Isn't that why
we
want to find them?”

“Ye want them all, lass. The king only wants one.”

“You mean he wants you to kidnap one.” Somehow this sounded a lot worse. “But what does he want one Adept
for
?”

Morgan's dark eyes looked Holly up and down, and his voice softened to a whisper. “Ye're one of them. You'd do, wouldn't ye?”

Holly swallowed.

Almaric sprang out of his seat, his face very red. “See here, Captain! Just what are you threatening?”

Morgan only smiled and waved his hand dismissively. “Just a jest, o'course,” he said, but Holly wasn't so sure. The king wanted an Adept—and now he knew she was in Anglielle.

Almaric sat down again. “Yes, well . . . not terribly amusing, if I may say. But I think we're overlooking a rather good source of information.” He turned his attention to the prince. “His Highness must know something about the Sorcerer and his designs.”

All eyes turned to Avery, who threw up his hands. “I know naught of what you speak. My father hath no commerce with sorcerers. He does not even believe in magic. I would swear to it.”

The pirate snorted.

“The king's advisor, then,” Almaric amended. “Raethius. Surely you know of him?”

“He is but an elderly man from whom my father seeketh counsel,” Avery said. “And he is rarely at the castle. He travels far and wide on his own errands. It hath naught to do with the kingdom.”

The captain spat on the floor in the general direction of the prince's shoes. “This boy don't know what goes on under his own nose. I'd throw him in the brig for the night.”

“Coming back to the point,” Almaric said, “the king and Raethius have been searching for an Adept this twelvemoon. The question is why.”

“That I know not,” the pirate admitted. “I've severed any accords with the crown since Iona went missing.”

“Who's Iona?” Holly asked.

“Me first mate. Never was there a finer sailor nor a better friend. His Majesty warned us if we couldn't find the island that one of the crew would be taken. After our last voyage, Iona disappeared. If not in the king's dungeon, I daresay my mate's swimmin' in Davy Jones's locker.”

“There was no one left in the dungeon except Loverian,” said Everett quietly. “We set everyone else free.”

“As I thought.” Morgan fell silent for a full minute, during which no one felt right about saying anything either, and then added, in a stronger voice: “So I'm not doin' any favors for the king, whatever his design might be.”

“That's exactly why you should help us,” Holly said. “I don't know why he wants an Adept, but if we bring them all back, that would finish him. Raethius, too. Right, Almaric?”