“I’m not tired. I can watch,” Hap said.
Nima smiled. “You seem like a fine boy, Happenstance. But you are still a stranger to me, and new to Umber’s company. You have not yet earned the right to stand guard by yourself. No matter how gifted your eyes may be.”
After he prodded Oates out of sleep and the enormous man went grumbling to the top deck, Hap stayed behind on his cot, wondering about all the ominous things the note had said. He could recall nearly all of it, word for word, as if it had been seared into his brain. I just wish I’d seen the rest.
He was still awake when Oates returned a few hours later and sent Balfour to take a shift. He was still awake when Balfour rapped on the door to Nima’s cabin and she went topside, and Boroon started to swim again. And he was still awake when the sun came up, and the door to Umber’s cabin burst open, and Umber bounded out with a wide smile on his face, crying, “Omelets! I have a craving for omelets, and toasted cheese!”
“You didn’t sleep at all? Not even a minute?” Umber asked through a mouth full of egg. “And you don’t feel tired. No aching muscles, no sand in your eyes, no urge to yawn?”
Again and again, Hap shook his head. Umber tapped his plate with his spoon. “You’re probably overexcited after yesterday’s adventures. Well, we still have some hours before we reach Kurahaven. Take a nap if the mood strikes.”
“I will,” Hap said, though he doubted it would happen.
“Have any memories come back to you?”
“No,” Hap said, under a wrinkled brow. “Nothing before I woke up in that room. When I try to remember more, it just … stops. As if there’s a wall there.”
“Interesting,” Umber said, narrowing his eyes. “I’d like to try something that might help you break through. When we get to the Aerie, that is.” When he saw Hap’s questioning look, he added, “The Aerie is my home in Kurahaven. Sort of a tower … sort of a cave … you’ll see when we get there. I’m sure you’ll—” Umber tipped his head back and sniffed the air like a hound. A broad, toothy smile split his face. “Is that what I think it is?”
Balfour pushed the galley door open with his back. When he turned, he revealed a tray with another omelet and a mug of steaming dark liquid with a sharp, pleasant smell. “More food for the hungry boy,” he said. “And, Lord Umber, I’d stored away a little—”
“Coffee!” Umber cried, leaping up from his chair and holding his hands out. “Sweet, bitter, aromatic coffee! I thought the last was gone!” He seized the mug with two hands, brought it to his face, filled his lungs with the steam, and took a lusty slurp. He shivered, and his eyes closed in ecstasy. “This cries out to be drunk in fresh air,” he said. “Hap, meet me on deck when you’ve eaten your fill.”
When Hap emerged from the hatch his eyes turned by habit toward their wake. But there was no craft in pursuit. The suggestion of land on the southern horizon had become a certainty: Swollen hills rose to craggy peaks that pierced a cloudless sky.
Umber was in the center of the deck, engaged in the oddest behavior. He leaped up and down in place, with his legs alternately spreading and closing, while his arms rose over his head and clapped against his thighs in turn. Nima leaned against the forward rail, fighting a smirk at the corner of her mouth.
“What the devil are you doing now, Umber?” cried Oates, who’d followed Hap out of the hatch.
“These are called jumping jacks,” huffed Umber. He timed his words to the rhythm of his leaps. “When we were on the run from the tyrant worm, I found myself a little short of breath. And I vowed to whip myself into better shape. You might try them yourself, Oates.”
“I wasn’t the one out of breath,” the enormous man replied, yawning and scratching his hindquarters. “You were. And if you’d slowed down any more, I would’ve carried you like a sack of flour.”
“Ha! No need for that, Oates. Soon I’ll be capable of epic feats of endurance. Hello again, young man!” Umber came to a stop, shook his arms, and beckoned Hap. “Speaking of jumping, there’s something I’d like to see.” There was a long pole with a hook on one end hanging from the rail. Umber lifted it from its bracket and held it horizontally. “Now, my boy, forgive me for treating you like a circus animal, but could I persuade you to jump over this?”
Hap stared at the pole. It wobbled in the air at the level of his chin. “It’s awfully high.”
Umber narrowed one eye. “I saw that leap that you made to escape the worm, Hap. Just give it a try! My curiosity has been aroused.”
“All right,” Hap said, though his jaw tensed at the request. Was this the first of the tests and challenges that the note mentioned? He crouched, swung his elbows back, and leaped. Then his eyes widened as he found himself springing into the air. The force that bound him to the earth seemed to weaken for a moment; he soared and crested, with his heels well above the pole and even Umber’s head. He saw Oates gape and heard Nima draw a sharp breath. Something like a laugh and a cry escaped from his own mouth. He came down on the deck, landing on his toes and the splayed fingers of one hand.
There was a clatter of wood. The pole had slipped out of Umber’s hands. He clasped his hands near his chin and beamed at Hap like a man who’d just discovered a chest of gold. “Well. That was something.”
“Boy’s not normal,” mumbled Oates.
“Who among us is?” replied Umber.
Hap straightened up. How did I do that? he wondered. A tingle plowed down his arms, seeding goose bumps. The others stared; Umber with that delirious smile, Oates with a frown, and Nima with a solemn and curious look. It was an awkward pause, broken suddenly by a low, trumpeting blast that came from under their feet. Hap felt the sound pass through his bones.
Nima leaned over the rail, with one ear lowered. “Boroon says the Swift is signaling us. Should we rendezvous?”
Signaling us how? thought Hap. He saw no ship on the horizon. And then he remembered the metal device that Umber had lowered into the water to summon the leviathan barge.
“Without question,” Umber replied. He put a hand on Hap’s shoulder. “The Swift will bring us into port. She’s been waiting here, expecting our return, and signaling every half hour. We keep Boroon in the open sea; you can imagine the uproar if this magnificent beast swam into a crowded seaport.” Umber cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted downward, “And I do mean magnificent!” He turned back to Hap. “There are times when more conventional transport is the ticket, and the Swift is a dandy ship, the fastest afloat. Thanks to me, I should add; her design was my contribution.”
Hap felt himself leaning to one side. Boroon had changed course, veering toward the coast. Before long, they saw the Swift at the horizon. She was a sleek ship with a pair of tall masts. For the moment, her sails were furled, and anchor lines angled into the sea from her narrow prow and raised stern.
A dozen sailors lined the near rail and watched the leviathan approach. Boroon used his great fin to paddle his vast bulk sideways, closer to the smaller boat, which bobbed below where Hap and the others stood. Nima hurled ropes across the gap, which the sailors tied fast to the cleats of the Swift. The men nudged and whispered to one another while gaping in Nima’s direction, but she acknowledged none of it. Once the ropes were secured, she unrolled the ladder. Its wooden rungs clattered on the smaller boat’s deck.
A tall, graceful man with sun-bleached hair tied back in a ribbon stepped forward with his hands clasped behind his back. “You are welcome to board, Lord Umber. It is good to see you.” He smiled at Nima. “And greetings to you, sister.”
Nima nodded. “’Lo, brother.”
Umber leaned over to whisper to Hap. “Same father, different mothers. That’s Captain Sandar of the Merinots.”
Hap took a closer look at the handsome man below. Sandar’s fingers were splayed on the railing, and Hap saw no webbing between them. The chief resemblance between the siblings was the heart-shaped faces and high cheekbones.
“Nima, are you sure you don’t want to add a
crew member? I’m certain I could find a volunteer,” Sandar called up. A smile teased the corner of his mouth. Around him, the young sailors coughed and yanked on the bottoms of their shirts to smooth the wrinkles.
“Boroon is all I need,” Nima said. She crossed her arms and turned to Umber with a flush of red on her face. “Your party may disembark now.”
Umber bowed. “We thank you, Captain, for your service. I’m sure we’ll see you again soon. Ready, everyone?” He gestured for the others to climb down to the Swift. Sophie, Oates, and Balfour descended, each tossing a pack of belongings to the sailors below. And I have nothing, Hap thought. The notion gnawed his heart. No stuff. No memory. No life.
While Umber said a few quiet parting words to Nima, Hap went down the ladder with his back to the crew members below. When he reached the deck of the Swift, he turned around. The air filled with gasps, and Hap winced. He’d forgotten how people reacted to the first sight of his luminous eyes.
The moment seemed eternal, and was only broken when Umber hurried down the ladder and glared at the crew. “Paint a picture, it’ll last longer,” he snapped, stepping in front of Hap.
Sandar took note and raised his voice like a trumpet. “That’s right, you pack of dogs! Make yourselves busy. Anchors and sails, anchors and sails!”
Umber put a hand on Hap’s shoulder. “Thank you, Captain Sandar. Now I want you to meet a new friend. His name is Happenstance.”
Sandar bowed, transforming instantly from stern captain to gracious host. “A pleasure, Happenstance. As a friend of Lord Umber, you can count on my loyalty and service.” He seemed to mean it, and so Hap found himself liking the man immediately.
“Excellent,” Umber said. “Now, good Captain, I wish to quietly put in at the outer dock of the Aerie. I don’t care to deal with Hoyle just now; she’s probably in a snit.”
Sandar’s handsome face went pale. He coughed into his hand. “Lord Umber, about Hoyle …”
Umber blanched. Not far from where they stood was a door to a cabin on the Swift’s main deck. That door exploded open, hitting the wall with a thunderous crack. A short, squat woman with a doleful expression on her chunky face filled the shadowy threshold. She raised a finger and pointed. “You!”
Umber drew his head between his knobby shoulders, much like a turtle. “N-now, Hoyle,” he stammered, raising his palms. “You know perfectly well that I need to take the occasional jaunt …”
Hoyle advanced and Umber retreated until his back was pressed against the railing and she was an inch away. She mashed her fists into her plump hips and glared up into Umber’s face. “A jaunt? Is that what you call these silly expeditions? Do you have any idea how much you’ve cost us? Of course you do! That’s why you were going to sneak into the outer dock like a common smuggler. You wanted to avoid me! Well, that’s exactly why I came on board to intercept you! You’re an impulsive pudding-head, that’s what you are, and a ridiculous businessman. The leviathan barge is the most valuable asset in our fleet, you dolt. While you were gone, word came of a wondrous opportunity: rare perfume out of Andobar! And where is our best cargo ship, the one that’s impervious to headwind and doldrums and buccaneers? Off on a lark, a fool’s errand, a goose chase, in search of some pointless and probably mythical treasure. And you didn’t even tell me you were commandeering Boroon! You snuck away, and I’ll wager you came home empty-handed! Well, what do you have to say about it, Lord Umber?”
There was a grim silence. The sailors edged away as if their eyebrows might be singed if they stood too close. Sandar leaned back, massaging his throat. Nima observed with interest from the barge. From under the sea came a comment from Boroon: a long, deep hmmmmmmmm.
Umber coughed and tugged at his collar. His head slowly emerged from between his shoulders. His voice squeaked at first, and then gathered strength as he spoke. “I do have something to say, in fact. Firstly, at a time like this, Hoyle, I almost forget that you work for me and not the other way around. Secondly, much of our mutual success has sprung from these jaunts, and I trust you’ll bear that in mind. Thirdly, I was presented with information about something important that might be retrieved, and I had reason to believe that haste was crucial. That is why I asked Captain Nima to take me. Fourthly, I am not a pudding-head. And fifthly, I did not come home empty-handed.”
“Oh, really?” Hoyle said. Her glare had lost a fraction of its heat. “And what did you find?”
Umber raised a finger toward the sky, twirled it in the air, and brought it down over Hap’s head. Hoyle looked at Hap for the first time, and she took in a sharp breath when her eyes met his.
“A boy?” She turned to Umber with one eyebrow arched high. “Lord Umber, you can’t just run out to a distant shore and collect a boy.”
“Normally I’d concur,” Umber said, “but this particular boy—who has a name, incidentally, which is Happenstance—needed to be collected. Rescued, in fact, from a cruel fate. Happenstance has no memory, you see, and no one to take care of him.”
Hoyle took a second look at Hap. Her jaw slid from side to side. “So you’ve fallen into Umber’s company, young man? One piece of advice: Don’t let him take you on any more of his adventures, or something horrible might happen to you.”
Hap nodded vigorously. He was eager to agree with this formidable person.
“Madam Hoyle!” It was Nima, calling down from the barge.
Hoyle looked up, and somehow her harsh features formed a genuine smile. “Nima, darling! How are you, my dear?”
“Quite well, thank you. You spoke of perfume: Is it the usual port in Andobar?”
“Why, yes it is.”
“And how much head start did our rivals get?”
“Nearly two days, I fear.”
Nima raised her face to the sky. “There is not much wind, and it is against them. Also, they will have to sail around the Straits of Maur, for fear of pirates, while Boroon can swim straight through. So I can still arrive before them.”
“Can you really?” Hoyle said. She stroked her palm with her fingers, counting coins in mime.
“I should leave at once,” Nima said.
“Aren’t you a delight! Meet our agent at the usual rendezvous, and he’ll arrange for the cargo to be loaded. Captain Sandar, please have your men bring the chest of gold to Nima.” Hoyle whipped back toward Umber, and her ferocity returned for an encore. “And you, Lord Umber, will meet me in the cabin, where we shall discuss our mutual responsibilities at length.”
Umber trudged into the cabin like a man approaching the gallows, while a small but weighty wooden chest was carried up to the leviathan barge. The sailors swarmed over the deck of the Swift and crawled aloft like spiders to drop the sails. Furls of canvas snapped into taut expanses. Lines were heaved back to the leviathan barge, and the crafts drifted apart. Nima waved, and Boroon’s sweeping tail propelled them away.
“Are we going to Kurahaven now, Captain Sandar?” asked Hap.
Sandar took a deep breath of salty air. “Yes, Master Happenstance. And that is a sight you will never forget, I promise you.”
CHAPTER
8
The notion of cold, dark water below still jangled Hap’s nerves, but curiosity drove him to crouch near the prow, where he hugged the rail tight. There was another reason to stand there with his back to the crew: Nobody could stare at his eyes. After a while, Sophie came forward as well, without a word, and stood several paces away.
The mountains on the horizon grew wider and taller as the Swift approached land. They bounded past rocky isles, and then ships of all sizes and shapes appeared as they plunged into a busy shipping lane. Suddenly there were gray-white sails all around and gray-white gulls overhead, filling the air with haunting cries. All the vessels came and went through a gap in the mountainous terrain, directly ahead. The wind gusted, Sandar barked out orders, and Hap felt the Swift earn her name. She swept past every boat on the same course while other captains frowned with envy.
As they approach
ed, Hap saw that the gap was easily a half mile across. When they reached the opening and passed the peaks that blocked the interior from sight, he saw the harbor of Kurahaven for the first time, a calm circle of water inside the mountains’ embracing arms. For a moment he neglected to breathe.
The first wonder stood just inside the gap, near the shore to his left. It was an ancient castle, built on an island so low that its walls seemed to erupt straight from the sea. Surely, it was no longer inhabited, because what was left was in a precarious state. There had once been four towers around a domed keep. Now two were collapsed with their remains jutting from the sea, one was broken in half, and one sagged at such an angle that it was hard to conceive why it hadn’t already tumbled.
“What is that place?” Hap said.
Sophie looked around and saw that no one else was there to reply. She answered in a whisper while looking at her feet. “Those are the ruins of Petraportus. It’s very old. That’s where the kings lived long ago.”
“Oh. Thank you,” said Hap. He could have stared at the broken castle for hours, but there was more to see. At the far end of the harbor, in stark contrast to the ruins, stood the dazzling, flourishing city of Kurahaven. He had no memory of the world of his past, but he was sure there couldn’t be a more remarkable place anywhere.
He let his eyes wander across the great vista, starting with the ruined castle on his left. Behind that, a lofty pillar of rock stood out from the cliffs. Through some unimaginable act of carving, the rock had been transformed into a tower fortress. Columns, stairs, arches, balconies, and windows had been sculpted into its surface. Near the top, part of the rock jutted from a corner, and this outcropping had been carved in the likeness of a head with a craggy face, a flowing beard, and windows for eyes.
Near the bottom of the pillar a thick jet of water shot from a crack in the rock. A boat was floating where the stream splashed into the sea. The craft was so tiny that there was barely room for the gray-haired man and woman who occupied it, and the barrels they were filling.
Happenstance Found (Books of Umber #1) Page 6