by Carrie Ryan
Fin closed his eyes. It was like he’d never existed to them. As if he hadn’t been the one who’d thrown the pepper into the Stream. As if he hadn’t rescued Coll from the Gibbering Grove, or tricked Serth into diving into the Stream and saved the whole world.
As if he didn’t miss Marrill way more than they did.
“You guys are never going to help me, are you?” he asked.
Ardent frowned and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’re on a quest to find a dear friend of mine, young man. A friend who may be in grave danger. I’m afraid we can’t just stop to help every stowaway, no matter how much we might like to.”
“But—” Fin stopped himself. It was no use. He could convince them to help him—remind them of Marrill and of what the scraps said, and that he wasn’t just some stowaway. They would believe him. And they would want to help him. They really would.
And then two seconds later, they would forget all over again. It wasn’t their fault. Everyone did. Because he was no one.
“Never mind,” he whispered. He turned away and headed quickly for the stern before the tears could form.
Back by the rumor vines again, Fin let the emotion well up in his chest. If only Marrill were still here. She would have helped him. She would have made Ardent and Coll stay on track.
He reminded himself, again, that she was gone forever. That it was a good thing she was back home with her family, and a good thing that she had taken the Map to Everywhere with her to keep it safe, no matter how much he needed it.
His hand strayed toward the familiar weight in his hidden shirt pocket. The Key to the Map, the piece that controlled it, safe where he’d stashed it. But what good was it without the Map itself? He forced his fingers into a fist, then dropped his arm to his side.
Fin closed his eyes, feeling the earlike leaves of the rumor vines waving across his knuckles. “I wish Marrill was here,” he whispered to no one.
the vines softly whispered.
After a long time, he opened his eyes again. That was when he noticed the other ship.
She was dark and low-decked and racing up the arch of glowing water behind them. And if she had been just a bit larger and a touch better made, he’d have thought for sure that she was Stavik’s old ship, the Black Dragon, risen up from where they’d sunk her so she could chase the Kraken once more.
Then he caught sight of the black flag flapping from her mizzenmast gaff, and he understood why she looked so familiar. “Pirates,” he mumbled under his breath. Then the thought hit him harder.
“PIRATES!”
the rumor vines cried, the cacophony of their shouts almost deafening.
In moments, Coll, Ardent, and the Naysayer were all beside him. The ship was coming straight for them. And the narrow ribbon of water they were sailing left no way to escape.
“Maybe… we could… just let them pass?” Ardent offered.
“Sure,” said the Naysayer. “Just find us a nice stable-looking cloud to pull off on and I’ll lean out and wave ’em around.”
Coll’s voice broke the moment. “Prepare to be boarded!” he barked. “Get the nets ready, Ropebone! To arms, you pirats! Ardent, get your best wizarding ready. Looks like we’ll need a healthy dose of it today.”
The rumor vines took up the call.
Ardent cracked his bony knuckles as the pirats scampered back and forth, sealing hatches and securing lines. Fin saw one strapping an empty can on as a breastplate. He swallowed and looked back to the pirate vessel.
As she drew closer, the ship looked even more like the Black Dragon. He squinted. Sure enough, the man at her bow moved with a familiar swagger, and his leather tunic bore a familiar cut. Apparently, Stavik had found himself a new flagship.
She was lower than the Kraken, and he couldn’t quite get a good look at the men on her deck. But he could tell from their voices that they were preparing to board.
He stroked his chin, considering the situation. Being boarded by pirates was bad, as a general rule. Even if those pirates were your friends. And especially if none of your friends ever remembered you.
On the other hand, it occurred to him that getting Ardent and Coll to follow the forgettable girl’s ship would be near impossible; they had their own leads to chase, their own quests to fulfill. Stavik, meanwhile, would track a ship like a sweathound on a deer with perspiration problems, so long as there was the slightest hint of loot involved. And Fin was very good at hinting.
Fin grinned. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. He’d have to talk the pirates out of taking the Kraken, sure, but that was another thing he was good at. And talking his way onto Stavik’s ship would be twice as easy.
This was it, he decided. He was leaving.
The thought came suddenly, but surely. He had to go. As the pirate ship came abreast of the Kraken, Fin took one long, last look at the ship that had been his home for the last six months. It hurt to leave, especially remembering the good times he’d had there with Marrill. He wouldn’t see her again, he knew, but maybe one day he could come back, after fixing whatever was wrong with him and finally becoming memorable, and rejoin the crew of the Kraken.
But until then, it looked like a pirate’s life for him. As the boarding hooks clinked onto the railing and the pirates drew to jumping distance, Fin raised his hand in the traditional thieves’ greeting. “Hello, fellow shady-fellow,” he began. But the words caught in his throat.
Because one particularly small pirate stepped forward. A small pirate wearing a backpack and clutching a big, one-eyed orange cat.
“Fin!” she cried, waving.
His jaw dropped. He blinked, rubbing at his eyes. It couldn’t be real. “Marrill?” he whispered.
“Fin!” she shouted again. Without hesitation, she thrust her cat into Stavik’s arms, grabbed a rope, and swung between the two ships. Before he knew it, Fin found himself face-first in an enormous hug.
Deep inside Fin, all the frustration of being forgotten, all the fear of never knowing who he was, all the sadness from being alone—all of it just exploded and disappeared in a single moment. A lone tear rolled down his cheek. For the first time in what may have been his entire life, he felt like he had come home.
“You came back,” he whispered. He threw his arms around her. “You came back!”
Marrill pulled away from him, a huge grin plastered on her face. Her eyes were bright and watery. She squeezed his hand. “I came back,” she said.
Fin just nodded. They were riding a rainbow of magic across an endless clear sky. Flying manta-pancakes warbled all around them, and the sun shone bright on the deck where his best friend now stood beside him.
Maybe wishes came true after all.
CHAPTER 5
The Colloquy of Pickled Pate
Marrill couldn’t help herself. She pulled Fin in for another hug. “I missed you so much, Fin.” Her throat tightened with happy tears. She wanted to pinch herself to make sure this was all real. She couldn’t believe she was back on the Pirate Stream. That she was back with her best friend.
Closing her eyes, Marrill took it all in: the salty, slightly effervescent smell of the Stream, the rocking of the waves, the snap and squeal of the Kraken’s rigging.
It was like being home again.
“I never would have pegged you to turn pirate,” a mellow voice teased. Marrill looked up to find a tall, narrow boy leaning against the nearby mast, his arms crossed loosely in front of him. A wide smile broke across his face.
“Coll!” Marrill cried, launching herself at him.
If the usually taciturn captain of the Kraken was surprised, he didn’t show it. Instead he wrapped his arms around her. “Welcome aboard. We could use a good first mate. Been shorthanded for a while.” Beside her, Fin cleared his throat. Coll glanced at him. “Brought a friend, huh?” he added. “Hope he knows how to sail.”
Even Fin’s frustrated sigh made Marrill smile. A smile that grew even wider to see a damp purple robe, a sagging, pointy-tipped hat, and
the bony old man wedged into them. “Well, these pirates really aren’t the most efficient, are they?” Ardent mused. “The legendary corsair Glasskin Jill would’ve had the ship boarded and half the crew tied to the rafters at this point.”
He tugged his bushy white beard and leaned out dangerously over the railing. “Any day now!” he shouted to the other ship. “Some of us have plans, you know!”
“We ain’t here to board ya, old man,” Stavik growled up from the deck of the Purple Serpent. “But keep talking like that and the plan may change.”
Just then, Remy shoved him aside. A chorus of gasps sounded from the pirate crew; several even cringed. “Marrill Aesterwest, get back here this minute!” she shouted, fists against her hips in fury. “You do not run off like that! Magic stream or no, I. Am. Your. Babysitter!”
At the sound of Marrill’s name, Ardent’s shoulders straightened. He spun around to face her, flipping the tip of his purple cap out of his eyes to get a better look.
“Marrill?” he whispered. She waved. He stared at her for a shocked moment. Then his face split into a grin. “It is you!” He held his arms wide for a hug.
Marrill bounded into him. The wizard let out a muffled “Oomf” as she threw her arms around his waist. “Well, this is certainly a delightfully unexpected…” He trailed off and pushed her back a step.
“You’re here,” he said. “On the Stream,” he added.
She nodded, her smile growing wider. Her heart nearly burst with happiness. She was back with her crew. Back where she belonged.
Ardent’s lips tightened with concern. “But you shouldn’t be. I mean, you shouldn’t be able to be,” he said softly. “Not that I’m not glad to see you. Of course I am, but…”
Marrill took a deep breath. “It’s not good, I know. But I was needed here, right?” She looked from Fin to Coll to Ardent. They each nodded, especially Fin.
But at the same time, they all seemed genuinely surprised to see her. Genuinely confused that she was there. She saw no hint that they had actually sent for her or told her to come back. Which meant they hadn’t been the ones to write the message on the stop sign. But then, who had?
Beneath her, the deck of the ship lurched, sending her off balance. She remembered to bend her knees slightly, as Coll had once taught her. “The Stream is touching my world again,” she began. “Which you probably figured out, since I’m here and all. But there’s more.” Quickly, she recapped everything, from the cloud-catching net to the stop sign to the weird voice in the tunnel and the Map’s awakening.
Ardent stroked his beard. “The Iron Tide,” he muttered to himself.
Just then, a slick bald head covered in stringy hair shoved straight into the middle of their group. Seconds later, the stout purplish-blue body followed. “One side, scoot, clear out, ain’t ya got better places to be?” the Naysayer grumbled. He jostled past Coll and bumped Ardent with a thick shoulder. A watering can dangled from one of his four hands.
Marrill couldn’t help grinning. “Good to see you, too, Naysayer,” she chirped.
He paused, looking her up and down. “Oh,” he said. “Huh. Where’ve you been?”
Marrill laughed. “Well, I was—”
“Not interested.” He swatted her out of his path with one heavy hand and shambled over to the railing. Then he snorted. “And what a great job you all did getting rid of those pirates we were so worried about. I bet they’re just swinging them boarding hooks to come over and give us a big hug good-bye. But you guys keep jawing—it’s fine.”
As if to emphasize the point, several sharp multi-hooked metal grapples sailed through the air toward the Kraken’s railing. Marrill looked to the Purple Serpent. She should have known better than to trust pirates!
“You should have known better than to trust pirates,” Fin said as they all raced to the railing.
the rumor vines echoed from their garden.
Marrill rolled her eyes as she struggled to unhook a barbed grapple. “I know!”
“Thassit, lads,” Stavik snarled from the other side of the water. The Purple Serpent weaved like a water-skier across the ribbon of Stream, tied to the Kraken by several lines. With one arm, the Pirate King held a furiously struggling—and furious—Remy. “Pull them ropes tight! Don’t let the whale escape! And you, stop biting me!”
“Nice fella,” the Naysayer grunted. “Anyone needs me, I’ll be in the hold, practicing my surrenderin’ speech.”
Behind Marrill, Ardent seemed distracted. “Was there anything else about the Iron Tide?” he asked. “Anything at all?”
Marrill tugged harder at the grappling hook. “No, it was just this voice out of nowhere warning that it’s coming and we have to stop it.” She stumbled as the grapple popped free in her hands. She did her best to lob it back at the Serpent, but the shot went wide. It splashed into the Stream, erupting into an explosion of bright autumn leaves. Marrill was sure she smelled eggnog. Her mouth watered. “Have you heard of it before?” she asked.
Ardent shrugged. “The voice? Unlikely, though I do tend to hear them often.” He hesitated, ear cocked to the side, shook his head, and continued. “More relevant, I have heard of the Iron Tide. It’s mentioned rather prominently in the first verse of the Meressian Prophecy.”
Marrill’s heart skipped a beat. “The Meressian Prophecy?” she squeaked. Behind her, a tangle of rumor vines caught up the phrase:
She forced herself to be calm. The Meressian Prophecy had ended when the mad oracle Serth had fallen into the Pirate Stream, taking the Key to the Map to Everywhere with him. The Key that could transform the Map into a gateway to the Stream-destroying Lost Sun of Dzannin. With Serth and the Key gone, the Lost Sun was locked away for good. There was no need to fear the Meressian Prophecy anymore.
Another boarding hook flew past them and slapped onto the deck, trailing a long line with it. Ardent frowned. “Bad weather out. Let’s continue this discussion in my cabin. There are a few things I’ve discovered that I believe you’ll find most illuminating!”
“Um, Ardent?” Coll growled, jabbing his head sharply toward the growing web of lines. Already, a zealous pirate was crawling hand over hand toward the Kraken. “More pressing concerns?”
The wizard almost looked surprised. “Oh, yes. I’m sorry to say it, but I fear we’ve no time for a pirate battle today.” At the flick of his fingers, the grappling hooks turned soft and wobbly like gummy worms. The pirates yelped as the lines they were tugging suddenly came free. Marrill stuck her head over the rail just in time to see the overenthusiastic boarder scrabbling up the side of the Serpent as her mates struggled to haul her in.
“Could have done that all along,” Coll muttered.
Ardent shrugged. “Yes, but where would the fun have been in that? Alas, now this Iron Tide situation requires our attention instead.” He whirled on one heel and headed toward his cabin. “To the Learnatorium!”
Fin caught Marrill’s eye. “Let’s go see what he’s on about,” he said, motioning.
But Marrill still had some loose ends to tie up. “Um, my babysitter and cat are on the Purple Serpent,” she said to Coll. “Could we maybe get those back?”
“I’ll take care of it,” Coll sighed. He ambled across the deck as though he were any normal sixteen-or seventeen-year-old boy strutting down the hall of his high school. With a little “Hup!” he hopped over the railing, just as a rope slung in from above to grab him and carry him across the water to the Serpent. Seconds later, the clang of metal on metal and the grunt of a struggle echoed through the air.
“See?” Fin said, grabbing Marrill’s hand and tugging her aft. “Under control. Now let’s go!”
Marrill’s concerns fell by the wayside as Fin pushed open the door to the wizard’s living quarters, which occupied most of the back of the ship. Ardent’s cabin was a hopeless mess. And still, it was an incredible one. Overstuffed bookcases lined the walls, shelves filled with baskets of oddities. There was an entire army, no bigger than Marrill’s
palm: tiny bagpipers, Lilliputian warriors, even a few miniature ponies thrown in. There were jars of various flavors, some enticing, like “sunset eve,” others revolting, like “swampstrainer’s morning breath” or the mysterious but ominously labeled “toeskunk.” Boxes wrapped with rope and stenciled with warnings were piled in one corner, and books covered almost every available surface.
In the middle of it all, Ardent tossed his way through a big chest. Marrill tried to pretend the fangs lining its lid were fake. She slipped off her backpack and collapsed into a chair that scooted itself into place at the central table. Fin stood awkwardly a moment, then rolled his eyes and dragged a stool noisily across the floor next to hers. He sat with an audible huff.
Ardent didn’t seem to notice. “I confess,” the wizard continued, “that your message about the Iron Tide is of particular interest to me. You see, my old companion Annalessa was hunting for Serth when she disappeared. And in order to find him, well, she may have been trying to decipher parts of his Prophecy.”
At the mention of the wizard Annalessa, guilt tugged at Marrill’s insides. She remembered Ardent’s portrait of Annalessa, her sharp-but-pretty features emblazoned on one of the cards he always carried with him. Annalessa’s disappearance was the reason Ardent had been chasing the Map to Everywhere to begin with… and apparently he was still looking for her. Marrill had been so focused on her own problems, she’d totally forgotten about Ardent’s. Her heart broke a little to think about it.
“So you tried to figure out the Prophecy, too? To try and find her?” Marrill offered.
Ardent nodded. “Which brings us to the Iron Tide.” He leaned so far into the trunk he nearly disappeared. Marrill could swear she saw the lid salivating.
But then the wizard stood straight, holding up a sheaf of metal plates bound together by string. “Found it!”
“Um, before we get too far into that,” Marrill said, “I was hoping you could maybe help me with something?” She pulled open her backpack and tugged out the guinea pig cage. The grass inside was a bit crumpled and the frog appeared rather disgruntled, but otherwise he seemed to have made the journey intact.