by M. L. Forman
They reached the docks, but only a few people were walking around. Alex noticed that two small ships were tied up to one of the docks, but nothing appeared to be happening on either of them. He saw several men sitting near the back of one of the warehouses, talking to each other and playing cards.
“Perhaps they can tell us something,” Alex suggested, nodding toward the men.
“I was thinking the old fisherman might be a better bet.” Barnabus pointed in the opposite direction to where an old man sat in the afternoon sun, mending his nets. “He could probably tell us what stories there are about the Isle of Bones and give us some idea as to who we might hire to take us there.”
“You think he will know more than the others?” Alex questioned.
“I think that he will be more willing to talk to strangers since he is alone,” Barnabus answered.
Alex considered Barnabus’s words. It was likely that one man alone would be more willing to talk to them than a group of men who seemed only interested in their card game. He nodded his agreement, and the two of them walked toward the old fisherman.
“Good day, master,” said Barnabus in a jovial tone.
“Not so good when you’ve got nets to mend,” said the old man, glancing up at Alex and Barnabus before returning his attention to his nets. “You’re new here, and landlubbers as well.”
“Your eyes are keen,” said Alex. “We are looking for a ship to aid us in our travels.”
“Lots of ships in these waters,” said the old man.
“That is true, but we are looking for a ship that might take us and several of our friends to the Isle of Bones,” said Alex.
“Argh!” said the old man, looking up at them once again. “Not likely to find anyone to take you there. They’re all too superstitious for that.”
“Can you tell us why they would be too superstitious to travel to the Isle of Bones?” Alex asked.
“’Cause that island is haunted, of course,” the old man answered, returning to his nets. “Haunted, or cursed, or something.”
“If nobody goes there, how do you know it’s haunted?” Barnabus asked politely.
“A fair question,” said the old man, pausing in his work. “The answer is a long one, however, and I have nets to mend.”
“Perhaps we could help you with your task if you could take the time to explain,” said Alex, taking a step nearer to the nets.
“Help me?” the old man asked, and then laughed out loud. “You two have never mended nets. I don’t know how you could help me.”
“I could put a spell on your nets so they would never need mending again,” Alex offered.
“Oh?” said the old man, looking hard at the staff in Alex’s hand. “I suppose you’re a wizard, then.”
“I am,” said Alex, bowing slightly.
“I don’t know much about wizards, but you look awfully young to be one,” commented the old man.
“I assure you that I am a wizard, though I am young,” said Alex in a serious tone.
“Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t,” said the old man. “Not my place to argue the point, and it would be rude to say that you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“And dangerous.” Barnabus glanced quickly at Alex to make sure the old man’s words hadn’t angered him.
“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” the old man agreed.
“So, then,” said Alex. “Do we have a bargain?”
“I’m not sure,” said the old man thoughtfully. After a moment, he shrugged. “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you what I know, which is little enough.”
“If you wouldn’t mind,” said Alex.
“Well, to begin with, not many people from around here have ever gone to the Isle of Bones,” the old man began. “Not much reason to go so far north when the fishing is fine here. There are only a few towns along the coast north of here, so not much trade goes that way either.”
“That makes sense,” said Alex.
“’Course, now and then somebody gets it in their head that fishing might be better up north. Not many fishermen up there so there should be plenty of fish—or so you’d think,” the old man went on. “I was up north once—years ago. Went with an uncle of mine who had that idea about better fishing. Anyway, we spent a week, ten days, sailing all around that island. Didn’t catch many fish, but that wasn’t the worst of it. All the time we were there, it felt like someone was watching us.”
“Did you land on the island?” Barnabus questioned.
“We thought about it,” said the old man, shifting his position slightly. “Heard the old stories about dwarf mines on the island and piles of treasure for the taking. Don’t know if any of that’s true, but we talked about taking a look.”
“But you never did,” said Alex.
“No, we never did,” said the old man. “That feeling that someone, or maybe something, was watching us got worse when we sailed closer to the island. It was like someone was keeping an eye on us for some reason. None of us were keen on staying close to that island, let alone going ashore.”
“So you think the island is haunted?” Barnabus asked.
“There’s something going on there, that’s for sure,” said the old man, lowering his voice. “I figure there must be something living on that island because we didn’t catch any fish. You’d expect good water like that to have loads of fish, but if there were fish, we couldn’t find them.”
“Did you see anyone or anything on the island? Or was it just a feeling of being watched?” Alex questioned.
“Didn’t see nothing. Not a sign. No boats or ships. Nothing,” the old man answered, his thoughts trailing off. “Course there was a harbor, we saw that clear enough.”
“And now the men of Dunnstal avoid the island, believing it is haunted,” said Alex in a thoughtful tone, watching the old man.
“For the most part,” said the old man. “Now and then someone still talks about going to the island, but not many ever do more than talk. In fact, old Bill Clinker was talking about going up north just last fall. Doubt he’ll ever do it; he’d had plenty to drink along with his talk, if you know what I mean.”
“Yes, of course,” Barnabus said with a smile.
“Well, that’s that,” said the old man, returning his attention to his nets.
“You’ve certainly given us something to think about,” said Alex. “I don’t suppose you know of anyone, besides Master Clinker, who has thought of going north?”
“Oh, I suppose most of them have,” the old man answered with a slight laugh. “We all heard the stories when we’re young. Old dwarf mines left abandoned, piles of gold and jewels lying about for anyone to pick up. But there’s a difference between thinking about it and actually doing it.”
“I suppose we could buy a boat and sail there ourselves,” said Alex, looking out at the water.
“If you know how to sail, you might,” said the old man, chuckling. “But if you don’t, it would be a fool’s journey.”
“Perhaps,” agreed Alex. “Now, I will repay your kindness and put a spell on your nets so they won’t need mending in the future.”
“Oh, no.” The old man laughed. “Wizard or not, nets need mending. It’s best to leave them as they are so an old man like me has something to do.”
“Then how can we repay your kindness?” Alex questioned.
“Well,” said the old man, looking straight into Alex’s eyes, “if you ever get to that island and find out what is there, you could come back and tell me.”
“That I will do,” said Alex, bowing to the old man.
Chapter Eleven
Across the Open Sea
Alex and Barnabus decided not to ask anyone else about the Isle of Bones. The old fisherman had made it clear that most, if not all, of the men of Dunnstal believed the island was haunted, or worse.
“It seems their old stories confirm that dwarfs were on the island at one time,” Barnabus observed as he and Alex walked back to the tavern.
“Yes, but it also sounds like they haven’t been there for a long time,” said Alex. “I would guess they have been gone almost as long as Albrek has.”
“Perhaps Albrek’s tomb is on the island, and we will find the Ring of Searching soon,” said Barnabus hopefully.
“Perhaps,” agreed Alex, though he had his doubts.
The fact that the people of Dunnstal knew that there were dwarf mines on the Isle of Bones made sense. If Albrek had sent a great deal of treasure back to Benorg it would have been noticed. Of course, the wealth might not have passed through Dunnstal, but even then, stories would have spread along the coast, and everyone would have heard them by now.
What didn’t make as much sense was that the people didn’t seem to know anything about when or if the dwarfs left the island. The old fisherman’s story hadn’t said anything about the fate of the dwarfs, only that they were no longer there. What that meant, Alex didn’t know.
“Haunted,” Thrang said, after listening to what Alex and Barnabus had learned. “That’s going to be troublesome, to say the least.” Thrang sighed. “I agree that it doesn’t sound like there are any dwarfs left on the island. However, we still need to go and see for ourselves.”
“It will be difficult for us to go to the island if everyone here is afraid to sail there,” Arconn said. “Perhaps we should travel to a city farther south, where stories of a haunted isle are not told.”
“That would take time,” said Thrang. “We would have to travel some distance. Besides, I’m sure the stories are told all along the coast.”
“Perhaps along all the coasts of the sea,” Kat said. “Such stories are common in seaports, and most sailors believe them.”
“Then what can we do?” Nellus asked.
“We could buy a boat and sail it ourselves,” Thrain suggested with a doubtful tone in his voice.
“And if we had wings we could fly there,” Thrang snapped, his mood having taken a dark turn the more they discussed their situation.
“Thrain’s suggestion might be the only one that will work,” said Alex, cross with Thrang for taking his bad mood out on Thrain. “I’d considered the same thing myself.”
“I hate to have come this far and not make it to the island, that’s all,” said Thrang, softening his tone.
“Perhaps we can still talk someone into taking us,” Barnabus said. “The old fisherman said that the younger captains sometimes talk about going north. He mentioned a Bill Clinker by name. He said Bill had talked just last year about going to the island.”
“But he also said Bill had been drinking at the time,” Alex pointed out.
“If we could just find someone who wanted to go,” said Thrang thoughtfully. “Perhaps you could magically encourage their desire, Alex?”
“No,” said Alex after he considered Thrang’s idea. “I will only agree to that option if there is no other way for us to reach the island.”
“We should talk to the captains when they come in. We still might be able to find someone,” Arconn said.
“And if we said that they didn’t have to wait for us at the island, but drop us off and return at a prearranged time to pick us up again, they might agree,” Alex added.
“If, if, if,” said Thrang, taking a deep breath and blowing it out loudly. “I suppose we have to try something, though, and sitting here talking about it won’t help.”
“Perhaps we can arrange a meeting with Clinker,” said Arconn. “Perhaps we could appeal to his pride, or encourage his natural desire. Without using magic, of course.”
“Yes, that might work,” said Thrang. “At least until we were at sea, but then what? If we get halfway to the island and he loses his nerve, we’ll be right back here, or worse.”
“The only thing we can do is try,” said Alex. “Unless we take the time to learn to sail, which I’m sure will take longer than finding someone to take us.”
“Very well,” said Thrang, sounding both depressed and desperate. “I’ll talk with Ishly and have him arrange a meeting with this Clinker fellow.”
Thrang’s talk with Ishly seemed to go better than expected, or at least Ishly seemed to pay more attention to what Thrang was saying. Ishly nodded and said he would see what he could do, and then asked a series of questions about what Thrang and his company would like for dinner. Thrang wasn’t convinced that Ishly had heard a word he’d said, but Alex thought the innkeeper had probably heard more than Thrang meant to say.
As Alex and his friends were eating their evening meal in the common room, Ishly appeared at Thrang’s elbow and whispered something in his ear. Thrang nodded and thanked Ishly. Once Ishly had left, Thrang addressed the rest of the company in a lowered voice.
“Ishly says that Master Clinker will meet with myself and two other members of our company,” said Thrang happily. “Apparently he’s asked that Alex be one of the two, but Ishly doesn’t know why.”
“Obviously because he’s a wizard,” Arconn said.
“Yes, perhaps,” said Thrang, slightly distracted. “Ishly has resevered a small room for us to meet in. I think Arconn should be the third member of our company to meet with this Bill Clinker.”
“When is the meeting?” Alex asked, setting his mug on the table.
“Now,” said Thrang. “Master Clinker is already waiting.”
The others wished them luck as Thrang, Arconn, and Alex left the common room and headed to a back room.
When they entered the room where Bill Clinker was supposed to be waiting, the lamps were burning low. Thrang hesitated at the doorway. Alex wondered if perhaps Thrang had led them to the wrong room, but then someone spoke.
“Come in, please,” said a voice.
Thrang moved forward, followed closely by Arconn and Alex. As Alex shut the door behind them, the person who had spoken turned up the lamp. Alex was stunned to recognize the man sitting by the table. It was the same man who had granted them entrance to the city, the same man Ishly had referred to as Top Mast. The man seemed amused by their surprise, but he didn’t laugh.
“Forgive my secrecy,” he said. “There are some here in Dunnstal who would be upset if they knew we were speaking together.”
“And why is that?” Thrang questioned, moving to a chair next to the table.
“The Isle of Bones has a legend all its own,” the man answered. “Most say that it is haunted, some say worse. Those that fear the worst would not like the idea of my taking you to the island.”
“I take it that you are Bill Clinker,” Thrang said, clearing his throat.
“I am.”
“And Ishly has told you what we are looking for?”
“He has.”
“Are you willing to take us to the Isle of Bones?”
“Perhaps,” came the slow reply. “I have not made up my mind, but I am willing to discuss the possibility.”
“May I ask you something?” Alex asked.
“Of course.”
“You say that your name is Bill Clinker, but Ishly referred to you as ‘Top Mast.’ Can you tell us why you are known by two names?”
“Ishly has a long memory,” answered Bill with a smile. “When I was younger, I always wanted to stand lookout on my father’s ship. The lookout’s position is on the topmast of the ship, so Ishly started calling me that as a joke.”
“The top of the mast is a daring place to be,” Arconn said.
“Yes,” said Bill. “But youth is a time of pride and the belief that nothing can hurt you.”
“Are you more cautious now?” Alex questioned.
“A little, though not as much or as often as I should be,” Bill answered.
“There are seven of us who wish to go to the Isle of Bones,” Thrang said, retuning to the point of their meeting. “We will require some time on the island, after which we will require passage back to Dunnstal.”
“When we first met, you said you were looking for lost dwarfs on the Isle of Bones,” Bill said carefully. “Is there more to your journey I s
hould know about?”
“Our business there is our own,” said Thrang, not offering any more details.
“A dwarf, an elf, and a wizard,” said Bill thoughtfully. “I think some of the old tales are true. I think you are seeking the treasure that the dwarf lords left behind.”
“We are seeking a single item,” said Alex, holding up his hand to keep Thrang quiet. “The item is small and unimpressive, but it is of considerable worth to the person who sent us looking for it.”
“And if you happen to find treasure along the way . . . well, that’s considered part of your payment,” said Bill with a knowing smile.
“That is the customary agreement for adventurers,” answered Thrang, his voice tight.
“No offense meant,” said Bill. “I know something of adventurers after all. What you seek and what you find is none of my affair. My only concern is what it will cost me to take you to the Isle of Bones, and what profit I can make from such a journey.”
“Cost?” Arconn asked.
“My time and labor is a cost,” said Bill. “The trip will cost me both at least, and probably more. I’ve mentioned that some here in Dunnstal would not want me talking to you. What they will think of me could cost me my reputation as well.”
“You know your business and your people,” said Thrang in a thoughtful tone. “We need to make this journey, and can pay you a fair price for your time and troubles.”
“A fair price,” Bill repeated.
“For you and your crew,” Alex said. “We understand how few people are willing to sail to the island and how hard it might be to find a full crew.”
“That is correct,” said Bill.
“What price will you consider fair?” Thrang questioned.
“I will think on it,” Bill answered, rubbing his chin. “Meet me here tomorrow night, after your evening meal. I will give you my answer then.”
“I would prefer an answer now,” Thrang began, but Alex cut him off.
Thrang glanced at Alex and then back to Bill, looking a little put out by the delay.
“Very well,” said Thrang after a brief pause. “We will meet you here tomorrow night.”
“I will wait until you leave,” said Bill, turning the lamp on the table back down.