Finally they were far enough from the shore that the waves subsided. Bee and Wil rested their paddles so they could take a moment to catch their breath.
“That was harder than I thought,” Wil admitted.
“It’s always choppy near the shore,” Bee said.
“You could have mentioned that.”
“I didn’t want to scare you,” Bee said in mock disdain, and Wil laughed. But there was no sound from Anika. Bee turned and saw, in the dim moonlight, the wide, frightened eyes of the princess looking up at her.
“It’s all right,” Bee said soothingly. “It was just a little rough water. It should be better now.”
“No, it won’t,” Anika countered, her voice panicky. She held the hedgehog up high. “I’m sitting in a puddle of water, and it’s rising. This boat is leaking!”
CHAPTER 10
Bee could feel the cold touch of the seawater soaking through her shoes. Oh, my beautiful shoes—they’ll be ruined! she thought foolishly, before common sense took over. They were on the open sea in a boat made of reeds, and it was going to sink. More than her shoes would be ruined soon enough.
“We have to head back,” Wil said, his tone calm. “It seems this boat wasn’t meant for the open ocean. Let’s turn toward land.” But when they looked, there was no way to tell which direction land lay. In the dark, the sea, sky, and horizon all looked the same.
“How long do you think it is until dawn?” Bee asked.
“Not too long,” Wil replied. “We’ve been paddling for a couple of hours at least. If we can keep afloat until first light, we can at least head toward land. Can you swim, Princess—Anika?”
“Not a bit,” Anika said. “It is another of those skills I was never taught. But I’m pretty sure Pepin can, though he doesn’t seem to like the water overmuch.” Her voice trembled just a little.
“I’m a strong swimmer,” Bee said. “I can help you stay afloat if need be.”
A few minutes later, Anika said, “The water is up to my hips. Is there anything I can utilize to bail?” Pepin was muttering something in his hedgehog language, and he didn’t sound pleased at all.
“I cleaned out the boat before we started,” Wil said. “I’m afraid I threw out anything that might’ve been useful to make room for us.”
“Then I’ll bail with my hands,” Anika said.
“We all three should,” Bee agreed. “There’s no point to paddling.” They scooped water as fast as they could, but the boat rode so low now that the waves broke over the sides. Every time the water sprayed him, Pepin hissed.
“He has a great variety of sounds,” Wil observed, trying to keep his tone light.
“That is his angry noise,” Anika said.
“And what’s his terrified noise?” Bee asked. Talking helped to keep the panic at bay.
“Oh, he screams. He can be exceedingly strident.”
“You mean loud? Like this?” Bee asked. She threw back her head and shouted, “Help us! We’re sinking!” as loudly as she could.
“He has fewer words, but that is close enough!” the princess said, and called, “Help! We beg for succor!”
“Help! Help!” all three cried over and over, with no real hope that anyone would answer.
Bee had no idea how long they bailed and shouted. The princess and her pet had subsided into silence, and her own voice was just a crowlike rasp. The boat was nearly submerged. Anika knelt on the bottom instead of sitting, and still the water came to her waist. The sea lapped against the reed seats where Bee and Wil sat. Bee was about to kick off her shoes and suggest they swim when she saw a flicker of light on the horizon.
“Did you see that?” she croaked.
“It’s a light,” Wil said. “On a boat!”
Energized, they started to shout again. Bee and Wil waved their paddles and howled as the light seemed to come closer. Still, the skiff sank faster than the light approached.
“Wil,” Bee called, “do you have a knife?”
Wil passed a pocket knife wordlessly to Anika, who handed it to Bee. She sawed feverishly at the ties that held her reed seat to the sides of the boat, and at last it was free. She gave the knife back to Wil.
“Do the same with your seat!” she told him. “They’re light; they’ll float better than the boat.” Quickly Wil detached his seat. Bee shrugged off her haversack and placed it on her seat. Wil did the same with his pack. Just then, as the waterlogged reeds grew too heavy to float, the boat dropped beneath the three weary sailors and sank out of sight.
Quickly Bee yanked off her shoes, which were pulling her down. She swam over to Anika, who was kicking desperately in the waves while holding the hedgehog above her head. “Give him here,” she said, taking Pepin from the princess. The hedgehog’s clawed feet scrabbled in the air. “Now lie back,” she instructed Anika. “As if you were lying on your bed. I’ll support your head, and that will keep you afloat.”
Anika did as she was told, but her skirts were sodden and dragged at her. Bee had to use all her strength to keep Pepin, the princess, and herself above water. She looked around to see if the ship’s light was still visible, but all was darkness.
“Wil!” she called. A wave broke in her face, and she got a mouthful of water. Coughing and retching, she cried out, “Wil!” again. Where was he?
“I’m here,” he said, treading water at her shoulder, one hand on each of the two reed seats. “I’m all right. Hold on to the seat. Let me help the princess, you keep the hedgehog.”
Bee transferred her grip on Anika to Wil. He murmured something to her, and Bee saw Anika relax against him. Relieved, Bee lay back in the water, grasping one end of the buoyant reed seat that held her sack, and floated. Wil held the second seat with one hand and Anika with the other.
Bee placed Pepin on her chest, the way she’d seen mother sea otters do with their babies. They rested on the gentle swells. But every third or fourth wave broke over Bee’s face, and she had to cough and sputter and tread water to regain her equilibrium. She was tiring quickly.
Gradually, the sky began to lighten. It was as if a dark curtain were lifting, setting the stage for day. Bee blinked and realized that she had fallen asleep, floating on the sea. How long had she slept? It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. She checked to make sure she still held Pepin. Yes, her grip on him hadn’t loosened. She kicked her legs to move herself in a circle, so she could see where Anika and Wil were. And then she screamed.
Directly behind her, looming as tall as the biggest building in Zeewal, was the hull of a ship, and it was bearing right down on her.
Bee took a gasping breath and dove as deep as she could. The hedgehog slipped out of her hand and she grabbed for him and cried out underwater, despair trailing from her in a stream of bubbles. It was no use. Pepin was gone.
Above, the dark shadow of the ship passed over her. It moved so slowly, like a ship in a dream. Bee’s breath was spent. She floated far beneath the surface, her arms and legs splayed out, the rays of the just-risen sun bouncing off her hands so it looked as if her fingers were shooting out flames, as Master Joris’s had done. She had no strength left. She blinked her eyes against the stinging salt water.
Something grabbed her by her cropped hair and yanked, pulling upward. Oh, it hurt! She tried to scream, but her lungs were empty, and instead she inhaled the ocean. Up and up she went, but as she moved toward light, darkness took her.
And then she was coughing as if she would heave her lungs from her chest. Water spewed from her like a fountain. The sun was bright again. She lay on a ship’s deck, flat on her back. Sails snapped above her in the stiff breeze.
“Aye, this one’s alive,” she heard a man say. “And most likely’ll stay so.”
Bee closed her eyes. She never wanted to open them again. The princess was drowned, and it was her fault. And Wil was drowned as well. She could
never go back to Zeewal. She could never see Master Bouts again. Her heart hurt more than her lungs, more than her throbbing head.
“The others is doing better,” another voice said. “Excepting the girl keeps crying for something. Peppers, I think she wants. Mayhap she’s lost her mind.”
The others? They were alive?
“Peppers?” said the first voice. “Does she fear the scurvy then? I could do with some peppers. And some beefsteak, come to think of it. And a seven-layer cake, now that’d be a treat.”
“Pepin?” Bee croaked. She opened her eyes.
Four boots stood beside her, worn brown leather boots. Soldiers? Sailors? She looked upward, saw that the boots were folded down at the calf, wide trousers tucked into them. Black coats that nipped in at the waist, with gold buttons at the front and on the sleeves. Sword belts slung on their hips. White linen blouses, long, dark flowing hair. Three-cornered hats. One wore a long, pointed beard, the other was clean shaven. No, the other was smooth-skinned, with deep-set brown eyes, a mouth like the red tulips that grew in the fields closest to Zeewal. It was a woman.
“Pepin,” Bee managed again. The woman narrowed her eyes.
“What is pepin?” She had a strong accent.
“He’s a hedgehog.”
“A ’edge’og? What is that?”
“It’s an animal. A pet. Spiky, rolls into a ball,” Bee said weakly.
“Like this?” A third sailor joined the other two, tossing something in the air and catching it again. “Found this creature floating on its back, happy as you please. Is it edible?”
Bee sat up too quickly, triggering another coughing attack. “Pet,” she gasped. “Not to eat. Princess’s pet.” She held out her hands, and the man tossed Pepin to her. The hedgehog was rolled so tightly she couldn’t tell which end was front and which was back.
“Princess,” the woman repeated. “The girl we ’ave pluck from the sea, she is princess?”
“Princess Anika,” Bee said. Then she wondered if it was wise to tell who Anika was.
“I see,” the woman said. “And you be who?”
“Bee.”
“Yes, be who? This is what I am asking.”
“That’s my name. Bee. Beatrix.”
The woman peered more closely at Bee, and then she grinned. “You are female, to be sure! Girl in trousers, girl with short hair! I like!”
Bee sat up straight, trying to preserve what little dignity she had left. “Yes, I’m a girl.” She tried to speak with self-confidence, but she ruined the effect with a hugely messy saltwater sneeze. The sailors fell about on the deck laughing.
The woman wiped her eyes with her lacy sleeve, and said, “Very glad to make acquaintance, Bee-girl! As you are, I too am a female. I am Captain Zafira Zay, and I am commanding this ship.”
A woman, and a captain! Bee had never heard of such a thing. She stared at Captain Zay with astonishment, and the captain doffed her feathered tricorn hat and gave a little bow.
“Bee!” Anika came flying down the ship’s deck, her soaked skirts leaving a wet trail behind her. She threw herself into Bee’s arms, hugging her so hard Bee could barely breathe. “We thought you were drowned!”
“I thought you were drowned,” Bee replied.
“And none of us is drowned at all—except …” Anika’s voice trailed off, and she hung her head in sorrow. But then Pepin squeaked, and Anika looked up to see Bee holding the hedgehog out to her.
The princess burst into tears. “Not even—not even Pepin is drowned,” she managed between sobs. “Oh, I thought I had lost you all. I thought I was lost myself. I did not want to perish as my father did!”
Wil, as wet as washed laundry, joined them, and he patted Anika gently on the shoulder. “It’s all right,” he said. “These kind sailors have rescued us. We were very lucky.”
“Sailors indeed!” Captain Zay snorted, offended. “’Ave you never ’eard of myself, you great yellow-haired mooncalf of a boy?”
Wil gazed at the captain, nonplussed. “No, ma’am,” he said. “I don’t believe I have.”
“Then you are very lacking in education, you ignorant whelp,” the captain said, crossing her arms in indignation. “You are rescued by the ’and of Zafira Zay, captain of the ship Egbertina-Henriette. We are no mere sailors, my friends. Look there.” She pointed upward, and Bee saw the flag flying at the top of the tallest mast. It was a skull and crossbones, the white bones vivid against a bright pink field.
Captain Zay stood erect, her expression proud. “Our ship is a pirate ship. And we are tulip pirates.”
CHAPTER 11
At Captain Zay’s orders, Bee, Wil, and Anika were taken belowdecks and given dry clothing. They changed quickly, and the one of the sailors—one of the pirates—brought them into the captain’s quarters.
The cabin was spacious and luxuriously appointed. There were thick carpets on the floor and woven hangings on the walls. A bronze chandelier swung gently from the ceiling as the ship rose and fell with the waves. A painted screen hid the captain’s bed. In one corner, a table was set, and a silver tray holding a pot and porcelain cups had been placed in its center. The pot steamed gently, giving off a scent that Bee had never smelled before.
The captain sat in a cushioned chair, and three more chairs were drawn up to the table. They were made of the same glossy substance as the bookcases in Master Joris’s study. Bee passed her hand across the arm of one. Like the bookshelf, it was both hard and soft, as warm as a living thing.
“What are they made of?” she asked.
The captain stared at her, puzzled. Then she smiled. “I ’ave forget,” she said. “You in Aradyn do not know wood. It is of the tree. This chairs is of the mahogany tree. Very dark wood.”
“It’s beautiful,” Bee said, rubbing the wood.
“All the trees is different wood, different color, different ’ardness. In other kingdoms, they make many a thing of the wood. A building, a table, a bed—all of the wood. This very ship is of the wood, the oak tree wood.”
“But we have no wood,” Anika said. “We have no trees. It is because of Master Joris.”
Captain Zay rubbed her chin, as a man might rub his beard. “You are Princess Anika. Welcome on my ship.” She stood and gave a deep bow to Anika, sweeping off her triangular hat. Anika inclined her head slightly, and the two exchanged an appraising look. They were as different as dusk and dawn: the pirate with her tanned face, dark, dancing eyes, and long black curls, and Anika, ivory skinned and red haired.
“Yes, I am she,” Anika said, taking a seat. The others sat as well.
“Not so much princess in pirate clothes,” Captain Zay observed.
Bee thought Captain Zay was wrong. Anika held herself with great dignity, even in an oversized linen shirt and trousers, with her hair tangled and salty. She was every inch a princess.
“We are fugitives from Master Joris, who wishes to marry me off to a king several times my age,” Anika said.
“Oho!” Captain Zay cried, her eyes bright with interest. “And which of kings would this be?”
“King Thiedric.”
Captain Zay slapped the tabletop with her hands. “Thiedric! This is old man indeed! And cranky, with breath so bad, like a dungpile. Marrying such a man, a beautiful girl like you, this is very wrong, to be sure.” She reached out and touched Anika’s red hair, still wet from the sea. “And yet …”
“Yet?” Wil said, frowning. It was clear he thought the captain was disrespectful.
“Yet Master Joris is from where our fortune is made.”
“You steal his tulips?” Bee asked.
“They ’ave very great value, Bee-girl. ’Ere, you look at this one.” The captain went to the opposite corner of the room, picked up a clay pot, and placed it on the table. It held a tulip in bloom—but not a tulip like one Bee had ever seen. This one
was more like a flame than a flower. Its petals were fringed, and it was striped with orange and yellow. It seemed almost to flicker in the sunlight that came through the porthole.
“Oh,” Anika breathed. “A Flaming Parrot tulip.”
“That is quite so, Princess!” Captain Zay said, beaming. “You know of the exotical tulips, then?”
“Master Joris brings them to the palace sometimes, the strangest, most beautiful ones.”
“The mage breed them, the exoticals, and then ’e sell the bulbs for a great many coppers. ’E is shipping them to other kingdoms. But we find the ships full of bulbs, and then we take them and sell them our ownself. It is very full of profit, our work, and also very dangerous.”
“But surely it is unethical to steal,” Anika said. Bee looked down at the floor, remembering the Bouts Bun she’d stolen from the bakery on her first day in Zeewal.
“Indeed, so it is!” the captain agreed. “And yet, this is our business. Master Joris, ’e steal from the people of Aradyn, and I, I steal from ’im. Look, another one.” She placed another pot on the table. This one held the most elegant tulip Bee could imagine. So dark it was almost velvet black, it had silver stripes and silver tips on its petals.
“The Havran tulip,” Anika said. Wil reached out to feel it.
“No!” Captain Zay thundered, making Bee jump. “’Keep those ’ands off, Mooncalf. This flower, it is worth as much as my whole ship completely. No grubby fingers.” Wil drew back quickly.
“You see that you make for me a large dilemma,” the captain said. “I am not wishing for Master Joris to look for my ship, and now this is all the more likely. What shall I do with you? Shall you be walking the gangplank? Or shall I put you off on the island most near?” The captain rested her chin on her clasped hands, as if she were thinking deeply. Bee and Anika exchanged a worried glance. Was she joking? It was very hard to tell.
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