Baker's Magic (Middle-grade Novels)

by Zahler, Diane

  “I am very weary,” Anika said to the captain. “Perhaps we could rest for a while.” The captain glanced at Bee and nodded. It was true, Bee was exhausted, too. They hadn’t really slept on the Island of the Mages, and this day had been … well, tiring. She was grateful to Anika for saying something—for giving her a reason to leave the cabin, to get away from everyone.

  She had no idea how to talk to Bartholomew. She knew they would have to speak before long, but what would she say? She felt nothing for him. I have done just fine all my life without a father, she imagined telling him. Or Why, in all these years, did you never look for me? Oh, she could never say such hurtful things! And would she have to live with him? Would he tell her what to do? Would he prevent her from working at the bakery? She couldn’t face it—not yet.

  Instead, she and Anika went down into the hold and climbed into hammocks. The other beds were still empty; it wasn’t very late. They rocked comfortably as the ship climbed waves and then sank down into troughs.

  “Bee,” Anika said after a few minutes. “Are you wakeful?”

  “No,” Bee said.

  “I won’t converse if you really don’t want to,” Anika said. “But … aren’t you ecstatic? Is something amiss? You’ve finally found your father!”

  “I know,” Bee said. “I know it’s wonderful. But … it doesn’t feel wonderful.” She sighed. “I was used to things as they were. I have Master Bouts. He’s … he’s like a father. I don’t know Bartholomew. I don’t need another father.” The words sounded harsh and a little awful to Bee when she said them. But they were true.

  “I understand,” Anika said after a time. “Honestly I do. It would be so problematic to have to become acquainted with a father who was an utter stranger. You never knew him at all.” Bee heard what remained unsaid: Not like me. Anika had known her father. She probably remembered him, at least a little.

  “But really, Bee, it could be marvelous. He seems very amiable. You could have two fathers, Master Bouts and Bartholomew. Two fathers, just think of it!”

  Bee thought of it as the hammock swayed, and something about the thought made her a little bit happy. She pictured Master Bouts and Bartholomew meeting. They weren’t very much alike—Master Bouts was hearty and jolly, while Bartholomew seemed somewhat formal, a touch reserved, maybe even a little stuffy. But they were both kind. They would probably like each other.

  She was almost asleep when Anika whispered, “Bee?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Did you not bake truth into the bun that Master Nicon devoured?”

  “I did.”

  “Could Master Nicon have prevaricated, then?”

  “Could he have … what?”

  “Lied. Could he have lied about my father?”

  Bee was silent. Then she said, “I’m not sure. The—the magic acts differently on mages. I don’t think he could have lied, exactly. But maybe he didn’t really know the truth.”

  “Ah,” Anika said. “I hadn’t thought of that.” Her voice was infinitely sad. “Sleep well then, Bee.”

  In moments, the ship rocked them into sleep.

  Bee woke because the rocking had stopped. All was quiet in the hold, but dimly she heard shouting from above. The lump in the next hammock that was Anika was still. She twirled herself out of the hammock—she was quite good at maneuvering in and out of it by now—and made her way up the stairs onto the deck.

  The ship was anchored near an island that looked small, very small indeed. Bee couldn’t see the whole length of it, but unless it was much longer than it was wide, it was less than a mile around. And every inch of it seemed to be covered by vegetation. Tall plants—most taller than a man, some taller than five men standing atop each other.

  Wil was on the deck; she wasn’t sure if he’d been to sleep or not. He looked bright eyed enough, though, so she suspected he’d slumbered and gotten up before her. He handed her a piece of hardtack—rock-hard bread that had to be chewed until the jaws ached. But it didn’t spoil on long voyages, and Bee had shown Limmo how to flavor it with fennel seed, which gave it a spicy sweetness.

  “Where are we?” she asked him, rubbing her eyes and gnawing at the bread.

  “Nobody’s quite sure,” he said. “This island isn’t really supposed to be here. It isn’t on any map. And it’s very odd looking. What are those bushes all over it?”

  Bee looked again, peering closely at the plants. One had reddish-brown bark, nearly as dark as the trunk of the cherry tree in the palace garden she’d sat beneath with Anika. She clutched at Wil’s arm.

  “Trees,” Bee breathed. “Oh Wil, they’re all trees!”

  “Those are trees?” Wil said. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve only seen one,” she admitted. “But it looked like that one, with the dark stem.”

  “They’re beautiful,” he said. “And each one is different!”

  There were tall trees and shorter ones, trees whose leaves were yellow and red and bronze and those with green leaves and some without leaves, with just strange little pointy needles. Their barks were deep brown and light brown, gray and white and yellowish. The slender ones dipped and bent in the wind, while the thicker, stronger ones stood firm. They seemed to be beckoning to Bee, and suddenly she had to be closer to them.

  “I want to look at them,” Bee said. “We should go ashore.”

  “Let’s ask the captain,” Wil suggested.

  They found Captain Zay gazing through the spyglass at the island. “This is one very odd thing,” she said to them, lowering the spyglass. “No persons in sight whatsoever. Only very many trees. And whyfore is this island ’ere in the first place? It is not existing on my maps.”

  “We should explore it,” Wil said. “At the very least, it may have some fresh water that we can bring back to the ship.”

  “Go on that isle of strangeness?” The captain looked doubtful. “Most likely there are wolves or some other things that will eat such tasty bits as yourselves. The mens should be going, not the childs.”

  Wil looked offended, but Bee forestalled his protest, saying, “There might be some good things growing on those trees for me to put in pastries. Some fruits, maybe. Like the lemon I used before.”

  The captain thought about it.

  “I could bake the minute we got back.”

  It was too much temptation for the captain. “Well, that is another tale, to be sure. You go, take Rijkie. And take that useless ’edge wizard. ’E almost knock ’is own self dead with a mallet, that one. No use to me at all.” The captain turned away, forgetting them almost immediately in the rush of activity.

  “Where’s Bartholomew, then?” Wil asked Bee. She looked around. The hedge wizard sat on the other side of the ship, against the railing. Even from there she could see a red swelling on his forehead.

  She ran over to him. “Bartholomew. May I call you Bartholomew, please?” It was the one thing she had been able to decide before she fell asleep. She could not call him father.

  He looked up at her. “Of course you can. You can call me anything you wish, as long as you talk to me.”

  Bee was abashed. “I’m sorry I ran off last night. Really I am. I just … well, it was so unexpected. I didn’t know what to say.”

  “Neither did I. Perhaps that proves we’re related.”

  Bee smiled, and Bartholomew smiled back at her. “Good. We’ll just be friends, shall we? That’s as good a start as any.”

  “Yes,” Bee said, relieved. “Friends. That will work. But—will you go to the island with us? Captain Zay thinks you should come along.”

  Bartholomew rose, wobbling a little. “She wants me out of the way, eh? I’m not surprised. There was a little … accident. I was just trying to help, but the mallet got away from me. I am not exactly handy.”

  “Then come!” Bee held out her hand, and after a second’s hesitat
ion, Bartholomew took it.

  “Hurry up!” Wil cried. “They’ve lowered the dinghy!”

  Anika came dashing up the steps from the hold, clutching Pepin in one hand and smoothing her sleep-tangled hair with the other. “Where are you going? Why are you disembarking without me?”

  “Sorry,” Bee said. “I didn’t want to wake you. We’re going to the island. Come with us!”

  Rijkie and Haleem had placed barrels into the dinghy, in case they should find water on the island. But there was still enough room for Bee, Anika, Wil, and Bartholomew.

  Rijkie manned the oars, shouldering Bartholomew aside. “Don’t touch them oars—you’ll kill someone,” he said to the hedge wizard, who reddened and fingered the bump on his forehead. But Rijkie laughed, taking the sting from his words.

  In minutes, they scraped onto sand. Wil leaped over the side and pulled the dinghy up on the shore, and the others climbed out. The beach was a narrow strip, with trees at its edge. And what trees they were! They rose high, blocking out the light. Bee ran to one with white, peeling bark that looked like parchment, and ran her hand down its rough trunk.

  “A birch tree,” Bartholomew said. “I’ve seen it in pictures.”

  “And this one?” Bee pointed to one that was almost triangular, with sharp needles for leaves.

  “Some kind of pine tree. I don’t know the different kinds.”

  Bee drew further into the forest. “This one?” The tree was droopy, and hanging from its branches were round globes, like miniature pumpkins.

  “I believe this is an orange tree!” Bartholomew exclaimed. “How very peculiar, that all these trees should be growing together.” He picked up one of the globes from the ground beneath the three. “Come, smell this, Bee,” he said. He used his thumbnails to pry the thick skin open, and Bee leaned down and breathed in. It was the loveliest scent imaginable—sweeter than the lemon she’d used on the Egg-Hen, fresh and perfumed. It made her mouth water.

  “You can eat them,” Bartholomew said. “I’ve never tried one.” He peeled away the outer skin and divided the fruit into sections, handing some to Bee, Wil, and Anika, and the two pirates, who came up behind them. Then they tasted it.

  “Ohhhhh,” Anika said, closing her eyes in pleasure. Wil, Haleem, and Rijkie just nodded, juice dripping from their chins.

  Bee chewed, savoring the juice as its sweetness filled her mouth. She sniffed the orange rind again. “That would go very well in a custard,” she said thoughtfully.

  Anika put Pepin down on the bed of leaves and fragrant pine needles that covered the ground, and he scurried deeper into the forest, munching on insects along the way. They followed, stopping now and then to marvel over a tree with a trunk as smooth as velvet, another that had spiky balls hanging from its branches, a third that was so tall they couldn’t see its top in the clouds that hung low in the sky. One dropped a nut on Bartholomew’s head, adding a new bump.

  As Pepin tired, Anika stopped to place him back in the pocket of her trousers. Bee continued on ahead of the others, looking for trees that held treasures she could use for baking. She planned to come back with a sack so she could pick up the fruits and nuts she’d seen scattered on the forest floor. When she came to a lemon tree, she thought about plucking one of the bright yellow spheres from a branch, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. What if it hurt the tree? Of course, picking tomatoes didn’t hurt the tomato plant, nor blackberries the blackberry bush. But these trees seemed somehow closer to human, and she determined she would only take what had fallen to the ground.

  And then she came to a small clearing. The dimness of the heavily wooded forest lifted here. Grass grew in a circle where the sunlight would reach, if the clouds were not covering the sun.

  Sitting in the grass, heads bowed, were two figures. One was a man, Bee could see that clearly. He had a long beard, reaching halfway to his waist. She couldn’t tell if it was white or blond. His hair too was long, his clothing ragged, his feet bare.

  Next to him was a woman with dark reddish-brown hair. She was very slender, and—it was the oddest thing—she almost seemed transparent, as if Bee could see through her. It was a trick of the light, Bee told herself. She stood silently, unsure of what to do.

  Wil came up next to her and drew in a breath, staring at the couple in the clearing. In a moment, Bartholomew, Haleem, and Rijkie stood at her shoulder. Anika hurried up, patting her pocket to make sure Pepin was settled comfortably.

  “What … ?” Anika said as she saw them all standing motionless. Then she looked where they were gazing. She didn’t move or speak, but the air was suddenly charged, almost rippling with energy. Bee reached out a hand to her, but Anika didn’t notice. She was transfixed.

  “Papa?” she whispered. As tiny as the sound of the word was, it carried through the trees and across the clearing. The man turned his head. His eyes were sunken; his cheeks thin. Anika’s hands flew to her mouth, holding in a scream. She wavered on her feet and then, before anyone could catch her, she crumpled to the ground in a dead faint.

  CHAPTER 17

  Wil was crouching over Anika in an instant, and Bee ran to help him raise her. Her eyelids fluttered open, her skin so pale that Bee could see the blood pulsing in the blue veins at her temples. In the clearing, the man and woman had sprung to their feet, but they came no closer.

  “Papa,” Anika murmured again. She held out her hands to the man, but he stayed where he was.

  “What is that?” Haleem asked, pointing at the man’s feet. Bee turned from Anika to look. Around the man’s ankle was a thick circle of what looked like metal. And attached to it were rusty links that led to the nearest tree, a tall straight tree laden with dark leaves and brown nuts with bright red slashes in each.

  “He’s chained!” Wil exclaimed. “He’s bound to the tree!” He transferred his hold on Anika to Bee, who supported the princess’s wobbly weight. Then he and Haleem ran forward. As they approached, the woman seemed to waver in the air, and Bee had the strange thought that she might just disappear. But she did not.

  “Help me to him,” Anika said, leaning on Bee. As they came near, they could see more clearly how ravaged the man was. The bond around his ankle had chafed sores into the skin above and below, and he was little more than skin and bones. His face was weathered and deeply lined, and his eyes—his eyes were so filled with pain that Bee could hardly bear to look at them.

  And then Anika was standing before him. “Papa,” she said a third time. Her voice was as sorrowful as his eyes. He took her hands in his shaking ones and bent over them for a long moment.

  At last he raised his head. “Daughter,” he said, his voice halting. “Oh, my Anika. I had stopped imagining this moment. It has been so long—I had given up all hope of ever seeing you again. How ever did you come here?” He didn’t wait for an answer but gazed at her and said, “You are taller, my dear.”

  Anika smiled, though her lips trembled. “It has been twelve years, Papa,” she replied. “Did you presume I would stay a child?”

  The king looked around at the others, and as his glance fell on them they knelt. “Your Majesty,” Wil managed. No one knew what else to say.

  “Can you free me from these shackles?” the king asked, motioning to the iron clasp on his ankle.

  Haleem stood. “On the ship. We have tools on the ship. We’ll get them. We’ll be back—we’ll be right back!” He grabbed Rijkie and pulled him from his knees, and they turned and ran back through the forest. Bee, Wil, and Bartholomew stayed kneeling.

  “Please, rise,” the king said. “This is not the place for formality.”

  “But Papa,” Anika said, “how did you come here? I thought you were dead, all these years—drowned in the shipwreck. Have you dwelt here always? What has transpired with you?”

  “I was always here, dearest daughter,” he answered, stroking her hand. “All this time, fe
ttered to a tree on this floating island. Sometimes we floated close enough to Aradyn to see the palace towers in the far distance, but never for long. We would drift away again, and not return for years.”

  “Oh, Papa,” Anika whispered. Bee knew she was imagining the island, her father, so close to her palace home, so impossibly far away. “Did Master Joris imprison you here?”

  “He did. I did not know then what he was capable of. He can control the land, you know, and he just broke off a piece and set it afloat—with all the kingdom’s trees on it. And then, later—a hundred years later—with me on it as well.”

  “You were not in the shipwreck?” Anika asked.

  “I was,” the king said. “There was a storm, but we were safe and near the coast. And then all at once there were rocks, huge boulders everywhere. Joris’s doing, I know.”

  Bee remembered the rocks that threw themselves. Yes, that sounded like Master Joris.

  “I was in the water, and the next thing I knew I was on the island with the trees. I do not know how he placed me here. ”

  The king sank down to sit, and the others sat as well. Even Bee knew that it was bad form to stand when the king was sitting. “I cannot stand for long—I’ve little strength left. Ying-tao has worked for years to keep me alive, but I never thought I would see this day.” He motioned to the woman who now sat beside him, her dark hair a curtain over her face. She looked up at the sound of her name.

  She was very beautiful, her skin like smooth butter, her eyes turned up at the corners. Like the king, she wore an expression of measureless sorrow that made tears prickle in Bee’s own eyes.

  “Thank you for helping him, Ying-tao,” Anika said, releasing her father’s hands and reaching for the woman’s. But Ying-tao shrank back.

  “She does not like the human touch,” the king said. “She is a moss maiden.”