“Let’s sling it, Cake!” Fionna dropped the star into Cake’s waiting hand. Fionna whirled Cake’s flexible arm in a loop, building up momentum. The star shrieked with excitement.
“Faster! Faster!”
“Now, Cake!” Fionna released Cake’s arm and they threw the star toward the Marshall Lee as hard as they could. Fionna held her breath as she watched the star reach the apex of its arc. What was going to—
The star exploded into a blindingly white shower of sparks that suffused the fog with light.
“Oh my goodness gracious!” Cake ducked her head down behind Fionna’s back.
“Wheeeeee!” the sparks exclaimed as the wind swept them away.
Though the wind remained steady, and the ship’s sails full, it slowly came to a stop beside their tiny lifeboat. “It worked,” Fionna whispered.
“Yeah, but now what?” Cake muttered.
A figure, backlit by the last fading fingers of daylight, leaned out over the side of the Marshall Lee. Though the person’s face was cast in deep shadow, their eyes glowed with a dull reddish light. Fionna shuddered as the strange, unearthly eyes met her own. Then the person ducked back behind the railing.
“Wow,” Gumball said. “That guy’s eyes are freaky. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
“Versus what?” Cake snapped, unwrapping herself from Fionna and staring at Gumball with her hands on her hips. “Rowing in circles all night waiting to get our retinas eaten?”
“Shush!” Fionna hissed. A rope ladder slipped down the Marshall Lee’s hull. Her own personal misgivings aside, Fionna was willing to trade a lung for anything that would get her out of the tiny lifeboat. She snagged the bottom rung of the rope ladder with one of the oars. Fionna tossed her slippers into the bottom of the lifeboat and wedged her foot into the bottom rung, gripping the coarse hemp with her toes. “Hold this steady and wait here,” she told the others. “I’ll check it out.” Sucking in a deep breath, she began to climb.
Chapter 5
Rough rope fibers bit into Fionna’s fingers and toes as she climbed. The sun had slipped down below the horizon, and the thickening twilight made the climbing even more difficult. Fat pink sponges, each roughly the size of her fist, clung like barnacles to the hull. As the boat rolled with the waves, the ladder swung at least five or six feet back and forth. She’d almost reached the top when a particularly rough wave rocked the ship. The ladder swung Fionna toward the hull. She gasped, slapped her hand against the hull, and braced herself. Her hand came down right on top of a sponge, which squished unpleasantly. Foul-smelling liquid oozed between her fingers. Gritting her teeth, Fionna wiped her hand on her skirt and hauled herself the rest of the way up. With a final lunge, she tumbled over the railing and sprawled, panting, onto the deck. As soon as she’d caught her breath, she scrambled to her feet.
A crowd of heavily muscled blue-skinned men and women, dressed in tattered, loose-fitting tan shirts and pantaloons, encircled her. Each wore an unsheathed sword at their hip, thrust through the wide, multicolored scarves they wore as belts. Fionna eyed them warily. None of them made a move toward her, but they didn’t look friendly, either. One woman with her hair pulled into a thick reddish braid hocked a truly impressive bright green loogie that splashed onto the deck inches from Fionna’s bare toes.
“Oh my!” Gumball’s voice came from directly behind her. Fionna whirled. Gumball and Cake floated five or six feet from the railing.
“Cake!” Fionna said. “I didn’t know you could fly.”
Cake’s ears went flat against the side of her head. “I can’t.” Her voice quivered with fear.
Whatever force was levitating Gumball and Cake dumped them onto the deck beside Fionna. She helped Gumball up while Cake shrank herself to the size of a kitten and jumped onto Fionna’s shoulder. Fionna, feeling Cake tremble, covered her friend with her hand, trying to comfort her.
A figure wavered into being like a mirage in front of them, and Fionna found herself nose to nose with a gray-skinned, black-haired boy. He had pointed ears and black eyes with red pupils. She hopped back a step as Gumball and Cake yelped.
“Oh my glob.” Cake squashed herself against Fionna’s neck. “Look at the scars on his throat, Fionna.”
“Oh great,” Gumball muttered. “A Vampire.”
Fionna dropped into a fighting stance, wishing she’d brought her sword, and eyed the young man. Except for the pointed ears and red bite scars on his neck, he didn’t look like she’d expected. No bat wings, no enormous lupine fangs, and he wasn’t drooling blood. He was, however, floating several feet above the deck.
Instead of leaping on them and draining their blood, he tipped his wide-brimmed, tricorn hat and smiled at Fionna, baring a set of pointed teeth. “Hey. Welcome aboard my ship.”
“It’s . . . uh . . . a very nice ship. Totally nice,” Fionna said.
“Thanks. I fully appreciate how awesome it is.”
Gumball sniffed. “It’s okay. The lines aren’t as elegant as my—”
Fionna hissed and elbowed him sharply in the ribs.
“Thank you so much for rescuing us,” she said quickly, holding her hand out to the young man. “I’m Fionna, this is Cake, and this is Gum—” Just in time, she caught herself. This ship couldn’t look more pirate-y if it tried, and pirates liked to kidnap rich people and princes as hostages to ransom. She coughed to cover her flub. “Er . . . this is PG.”
The young man shook her hand. His skin was ice-cold and felt like it belonged to a dead slug that had been left out in a snowbank.
“Marshall Lee.” He bowed dramatically and released Fionna’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. Don’t look so stressed. We’re all very mellow here.”
“You named your boat after yourself?” Disdain dripped from Gumball’s tone.
“Best way to make sure people know it belongs to me,” Marshall said mildly. “I don’t need any squatters. You guys all look like you’ve been through some stuff. Come with me.”
None of them budged. Marshall raised an eyebrow. “It’s only going to get colder now that the sun’s going down. You really want to freeze your butts out here all night?” He turned and bobbed away from them.
“Fionna, I don’t know about this,” Cake whispered.
Fionna shrugged. “He’s right. We don’t have much choice.” Without waiting to see if Gumball followed, she marched after their host.
Marshall’s crew parted wordlessly before them. Fionna’s nose wrinkled as she got close enough to catch a whiff of their pungent body odor. Marshall led them toward the stern. Skull-shaped lanterns bloomed with fire as he floated past. He drifted to a halt in front of a heavy wooden door that had been painted a perfect, glossy black. Fionna heard the clank of tumblers as the door unlocked itself and swung open, silently. The room beyond was pitch black. As Marshall floated across the threshold, flames flickered to life on red pillar candles that were placed on all the walls, revealing an expansive cabin. Heavy red curtains framed a huge bay window that looked out over the night-blackened ocean. A long table, set for a lavish dinner and surrounded by high-backed wooden chairs, stood in the center of the room. Marshall floated across the table and sat in the chair at its head. With a long sigh, he leaned back, laced his fingers behind his head, and propped his booted feet on the tabletop.
“Make yourselves comfortable,” he said, pushing his boots off and wiggling his toes. “You’re my guests tonight.”
“Such unique manners.” Gumball’s voice was completely flat as he gingerly sat in the chair closest to the cabin door. Fionna took the seat directly across from him.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, are things not to your liking?” Marshall asked.
Gumball sniffed. “I’m accustomed to more polite company.”
“Fionna, shut him up!” Cake whispered in her left ear. “I don’t want him ticking off a Vampire.”
&nbs
p; “So, Marshall,” Fionna said. “What is it you do, out here?”
“Well, I’m a half-demon Vampire king, so evil, for the most part.” Marshall reached up and grabbed a silk cord that dangled from the ceiling. “Making people into my minions. Stealing stuff. Writing some sick tunes. I play the guitar.” He yanked on the cord. A bell tolled somewhere deep in the bowels of the ship. Instantly the cabin door flew open and two crew members came running in, each carrying a covered silver dish, along with a matching silver decanter. They set everything on the table and withdrew, shutting the door behind them. “You wanna go ahead and uncover those while I pour the wine, Princey?” he asked, levitating the decanter. Gumball’s brow furrowed so deeply his eyes almost disappeared and he opened his mouth to say something.
“That’s okay, I’ll do it!” Cake shouted. Hunkering down even more on Fionna’s shoulder, she stretched her arms out and whisked the covers off the trays, revealing a pair of huge purple octopuses. They swiveled to stare at Fionna and Cake with massive unblinking gold eyes.
“Hey, Harry,” Marshall said, pulling the stopper out of the decanter. “You mind helping me out here? Marv, you hand out the food.” The octopuses each made a squishy, blurbling sound. The one closest to Marshall, who Fionna assumed must be Harry, slithered off its tray, while the other pushed itself up with its tentacles, revealing a stack of fat sandwiches. Harry grabbed wine glasses and passed them to Marshall, while Marv set a sandwich on each of their plates. Fionna’s stomach growled at the sight of the food. She picked up the sandwich and crammed it into her mouth. She tasted the salty-sweet of peanut butter, sliced bananas, and chocolate.
“It’s good!” she said. Cake hopped off of Fionna’s shoulder, grew larger, and took a tentative bite out of her own sandwich.
“It’s not bad,” she said grudgingly.
Marshall tipped the decanter over one of the wine goblets and thick, dark red liquid splashed into the glass.
“Tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Cake squeaked. Fionna’s entire mouth went dry as Harry set the glass down in front of her. Gumball lifted his goblet and sniffed at its contents.
“Uhhh . . . this looks like really nice . . . uh . . .” Fionna cleared her throat and tried again. “Do you mind me asking what it is?”
Marshall grabbed a candle off the table and held it beneath his chin. It cast flickering shadows across his face that turned his eyes into solid pits of blackness. “It’s . . . blood,” he said, his voice low.
Gumball gasped and dropped his glass—one of Marv’s tentacles whipped out and caught it just before it hit the table.
Marshall burst out laughing. “I’m just messing with you. It’s grape juice. With a twist of lime.”
Cake poked Fionna in the ribs. “Laugh!” she hissed. They both tittered nervously.
Gumball scowled as he picked up his sandwich and took a bite. “What an astounding display of wittery.”
Marshall lifted his glass and touched one of his pointed teeth to the side. The color drained out of the grape juice, leaving it the flat white of fresh cream. He grinned and slouched down comfortably in his chair. “You guys should go ahead and make yourselves comfortable,” he said. “You don’t look comfortable. Here, have a shirt.”
A long-sleeved shirt flew across the room and slapped against Fionna’s chest. It looked clean enough, and it was sewn from fairly thick fabric. Grudgingly, she pulled it on over her head. At least it didn’t smell.
“You don’t mind us crashing with you?” she asked, snagging another sandwich from Marv. She tasted cucumber, grapes, and cream cheese.
“Oh, not at all,” Marshall said. “We’re a pretty mellow bunch here, when we’re not doing evil deeds. Don’t worry, you’ll have a long, long time to find out.”
Fionna froze, half the sandwich sticking out of her mouth, and stared at Marshall.
Gumball set his glass down on the table with a sharp clink. “What does that mean?” he demanded.
Marshall grinned and suddenly his mouth looked very large and very full of sharp teeth. “It means you’ll be staying here with me—permanently.”
Chapter 6
Fionna leaped to her feet. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t pick people up out of the goodness of my heart,” Marshall said. “You can pay me back,” he intoned, leaning over the table and flashing his teeth, “for the rest of your lives. Muahahahahaha!”
“I knew we couldn’t trust him!” Cake leaped up onto the table, grabbed for Fionna with one arm, and reached for Gumball with the other. Her arms didn’t stretch. “My powers!” she cried. “I can’t do anything!”
“Yeah, I took those away,” Marshall said with a smug grin. “I might give them back someday. If I feel like it.”
Gumball snorted and slumped down in his chair, shoulders hunched and arms folded across his chest. “I’m so not even a little surprised.”
“This is totally messed up!” Fionna yelled. “Marshall, you are such a jerk!” She snatched up her plate and flung it at Marshall. The heavy china passed harmlessly through his body.
He laughed. “I can’t believe you thought that was gonna work. Anyway, you may as well get started with the whole being slaves thing.” He floated up out of his chair and plucked a large red guitar off a hook on the wall. “You can restring this for me. I bet Cake’s whiskers would work great.”
“That’s it!” Fionna slammed her fist down on the table. The dishes rattled. “Marshall, I challenge you to single combat! With swords!”
“Oooo . . . ,” Marshall said, setting the guitar down. “That’s interesting. No one’s ever done that before. I accept. But since you’re the challenger, I get to make the rules.” Marshall rubbed his chin. “Hmmm . . . I select . . . a race!”
Gumball groaned. “Not another one.”
“Fine.” Fionna snapped. “Let’s get this over with.”
“After you, milord,” Marshall said sarcastically, sweeping another dramatic bow in front of Gumball.
The crew, who had returned to their various duties, stopped what they were doing and stared as the four of them emerged from the cabin. It was a moonless night, and Fionna didn’t like to think about what kind of an edge those strange half-demon eyes would give Marshall.
Marshall pointed at the mainmast. As he lifted his hand, lanterns burst into flame all along the rigging. “Whoever gets to the top first wins.”
Fionna glared at him. “All right, but no flying. You have to climb, same as me.”
Marshall shrugged. “That doesn’t bother me. Here, Kearney.” He tossed his tricorn hat to a burly, black-bearded man. “Hold onto that for me.” He arched his back and his vertebrae crackled in response. “Okay, Fionna. I’m going to be generous and give you a head start.”
“You can do it, girl!” Cake said. “Kick that skinny bloodsucker’s butt and get me my powers back!”
Bellowing a warrior’s cry, Fionna bolted for the mainmast and swung herself up into the rigging. She pulled herself upward, planting her bare feet firmly on the ropes. They were frayed and slick with moisture. She felt a sudden, sharp tug quiver through the rigging as Marshall jumped up onto the ropes. Fionna concentrated on placing her hands, placing her feet, pulling herself up. She grabbed the next line, put her weight on it. The rope gave way beneath her hand. She yelped and clung to the solid ropes.
“You better watch it!” Marshall called to her.
Gritting her teeth, Fionna strained to reach the next highest rope. Just as her hands closed around it, the rope beneath her feet went slack. She gasped and clung to the rope, swinging back and forth, struggling to find purchase with her feet. Rope fibers bit into the palms of her hands. She held her breath and pulled her knees up to her chest, high enough that she could grab onto the rigging again with her feet. She stood, taking some of the strain off her arms.
“Hey, Fionna.”
“Hey!” she shouted.
Marshall grinned. “I never said I’d make it easy for you.” His grin widened as he opened his mouth and held his teeth over another rope—the one she was holding onto.
“That’s it,” she muttered. “I have had it!” She kicked her legs as if she were on a swing, her body moving back and forth, building up speed. This time, when the rope snapped, she was ready for it. She swung outward in a perfect arc, hit the mainmast feet first, bounced off, and landed on the rigging. Her arc had put her ten feet above Marshall. As soon as she grabbed onto the ropes, she swarmed upward, climbing as fast as she could, not letting anything distract her. Her arms and legs burned with fatigue. She focused all her attention on the crow’s nest and the pennant that snapped in the wind above it. Fionna sucked in a deep breath and, with one last burst of energy, leaped—
Her hands closed on the crow’s nest. She’d done it. She’s reached the top.
“Not bad,” Marshall called up. He was still ten or so feet below her. He released the rigging and floated up to join her. “I have to admit, you did a lot better than I expected.” He grabbed the back of her shirt. “I thought for sure that dress would slow you down.” He plucked her off the rigging and floated them back down to the deck.
“All right.” Fionna jerked out of his grip. “Now give Cake her powers back.”
“Whoa,” Marshall said. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.”
Fionna glared at him. “What do you mean, Marshall?” she asked through clenched teeth. “I won fair and square.”
“Right,” he smirked. “You won for you. So I’m okay with granting you your freedom, but I never agreed to anything regarding those two. I’m just not feeling that generous. Besides, I need a new pillow, and I’m thinking Cake is going to be great for that.”
Epic Tales from Adventure Time Page 3