by Robyn Fraser
Deanna opened the door to sunlight and a wave of relief rushed through her. “Thank god,” she said and stepped out. She seemed to be at the far side of the Carnivorous Cavern and the way the building was angled, she couldn’t see the shoreline at all. It was like she was in a little alcove, about forty feet wide and equally long. There was a bench to her left, some garbage bins to her right, and a large tree with huge branches thickly covered in green leaves, straight ahead. For some reason, thick ropes hung from it and disappeared into the ground, which in turn was covered in dark, loose soil.
Deanna took another step forward and checked her phone for reception. “Let’s see if this exitnet wor—”
Her words were cut off as a large net of rope shot up from the soil and encased Deanna, lifting her into the air as her phone fell to the ground.
Chapter Six
Where Deanna Meets Real Live Pirates
Deanna, now a tangled mess, was lifted higher, to the upper branches of the tree. Her face was squished into her knees, so she really couldn’t see much of anything. But she did hear voices:
“Just get’er up!” shouted a squeaky, high-pitched voice from somewhere above.
“Buuut, we’re just gonna half ta’ put ‘er down again to take ‘er to the ship,” said another slow, deep voice.
“Puck! You two are such ninnies!” spat another, seemingly female voice, though Deanna was starting to review her assumptions about gender in this new world and so couldn’t be sure. Maybe it didn’t really matter, anyway. “Just pull her up enough so I can tie her hands, then we’ll let her down.”
Deanna was jerked up another few feet. A minute later she felt someone grabbing her wrists through the rope and tying something around them—probably more rope.
“Bullgod, go get the cart and place it right under the wench so we can drop her in,” said the female-sounding voice.
“Yes, cap’n,” said the squeaky one.
“Measley, you’ve got a good hold of her?”
“Yes, cap’n,” came the slow, low voice.
“Good. Just keep her there until Bullgod returns with the cart, then lower her down. I’m going to send a message to the ship that we have her. We’ve got to hurry, before that clucker realizes she’s missing.”
There was a rustling of leaves. A few seconds later, creaking sounds, joined by huffs, grunts and the occasional curse, made their way under Deanna and then stopped.
“Kay, Measles, drop ‘er down.”
The net in which Deanna was trapped jerked downward a little too quickly for her liking. “Owww!” she cried as her butt hit a hard surface.
“Good! Let it go, Measley!”
The net slackened around Deanna and she straightened her legs so she could see (and also because it was just generally more comfortable to do that). She was in a smallish wooden cart, not much longer than she was. Attached to its front was a unicycle.
To the left of the cart stood a very large rat—probably at least three feet tall. He (or she?) was dressed in pirate gear just like in the stories Deanna had read in her school’s library: a poufy white shirt, blooming brown britches with a pattern of yellow and blue paisley, one tall boot and one peg leg, a snug red knit cap with pink knit roses attached, and even a black eye-patch over the right eye, an orange flower painted on it.
Deanna snorted. She couldn’t help herself. “That’s quite the, umm, flowery outfit.” She tried to point to the rat’s clothing, but her hands were firmly tied behind her back.
The rat scowled at her, then reached for the scabbard on his left hip (Deanna had decided to think of him as male) and pulled out a two-foot long sword. “Ye’ makin’ fun o’me vestments, are ye?” He wiggled it at her, just a foot from her face. “Not so chatty now, are ye—”
“Bullgod, put that away!” From around the corner of the Carnivorous Cavern walked a tall woman, also dressed in pirate gear, though hers was all solid black and she didn’t have an eye patch. The pirate’s long strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her green eyes stared daggers at the rat. She latched a walkie-talkie type object to the thick black belt on her waist. “You know we’ve got orders not to harm her,” she continued as she reached Bullgod, grabbed his arm and pushed the sword to the ground.
There was a loud cracking noise behind Deanna just then, followed by a thump that rocked the cart. “Owww! Fart-in-me-timbers!”
Deanna turned her still rope-encased head to see a massive man, at least seven feet tall and almost as wide, getting up slowly from the ground, a large, broken tree limb beside him. He was wearing green leotards with a long, blue and gold button-down jacket. An orange skull-and-crossbones bandana covered his head.
“For Puck’s sake, Measley, can’t you do anything right?” The cap’n (which Deanna assumed to mean ‘captain’) shook her head. “Come on. Cover her up with the blanket and let’s get to the dock.” She began to turn away, but stopped and added, “And you best stick something in her mouth so that she doesn’t make any noise. We don’t want anyone asking questions about our cargo before we’re back on the ship.” She glanced at the giant and pointed to his head. “Use that, Measley.”
“Awww, but, cap—”
“Measley, you don’t want me to have to repeat myself, do you?” asked the captain evenly, one eyebrow raised. Deanna couldn’t help but note that she’d just used more words to not repeat herself than she would have if she’d just said ‘Use that, Measley,’ again. Though she supposed the captain was making a point.
Measley shook his head and, with a beefy hand, removed the bandana from it. A mass of tight pink curls sprang up from his scalp.
Bullgod broke down in guffaws. “Puck, Measley, that’s the awflist perm and dye job I ever saw in all my years on the lake!” The rat was bent double with laughter.
“Shut-up, Bullgod!” screamed the woman, her forehead creased like a forgotten-in-the-overfilled-dryer t-shirt. She pointed at Measley. “Now, stuff that in her mouth, cover her up and let’s be off, for Puck’s sake!”
Measley did as he was told, which made Deanna gag, not so much from how large the bandana was, but rather due to its highly repulsive stench of scalp grease mixed with hair perm and dye chemicals. It was all she could do to not vomit, which would have been a really bad thing since her stomach contents would have had nowhere to go but back down. A moment later a thick blanket was thrown over her head, leaving her mostly in darkness, except where moth-holes let the light shine through.
“Bullgod, on the bike!”
The cart began to move jerkily forward, creaking steadily as it picked up speed. About five minutes later it stopped. The sound of whooshing water made Deanna think they were probably at the shoreline of Slightly Silly Sea.
“Measley, pick her up, blanket and all, and put her in the boat.”
The giant lifted Deanna into his arms. He was surprisingly gentle with her. From a hole in the blanket, she watched as he took her along the dock she’d seen earlier. At the end of it was a small, bobbing rowboat with the words The Puck written on the side. He lowered Deanna into it.
“Okay, everyone in. Let’s get out of here. Measley, take the oars. Wait ‘til we’re out of range to take the blanket off.”
“Buuut, tha’s no our blankie, cap’n,” said Measley. “I borrowed it from the Cavern.”
The captain sighed loudly. “Well then, in that case we’ll package it up and mail it back in a nice box with a bow and a thank you note when we’re done with it, Measley.” The sarcasm was not at all lost on Deanna. Though apparently it was on the giant.
“Oh. Okay,” he said.
“Now, let’s get The Puck out of here before that clucker sees us.”
With the borrowed blanket over her head, the bandana stuffed in her mouth, and her arms still tied behind her back, Deanna had no choice but to ride The Puck away from shore. And away from Rose, her only friend in this very strange land.
Chapter Seven
Where Deanna Drinks Tea and Learns Her De
stiny
“You can take the blanket off her now,” said the captain, about ten minutes into the row.
Deanna had to shut her eyes to the sudden brightness. Eventually she was able to open them and glance around; they were well away from shore, the shacks of Port Potty just dots on the horizon. The sky directly above was blue, but in the distance—west, Deanna thought—dark grey clouds loomed menacingly. Ahead of them, which would be to the northeast, a large wooden pirate ship sat waiting.
“Take the gag out of her mouth too and untie the wench. There’s nowhere she can go now and no one to hear her.”
Measley, who was in the middle of the boat and facing Deanna while rowing, dropped the oars and removed the orange bandana from her mouth. Deanna gasped with relief and fresh air to breathe. The giant quickly refolded it and placed the bandana over his head, once again hiding his horrendously hilarious hair. Bullgod, who was sitting on the bench beside her at the stern, untied the rope binding her hands.
“What are you going to do with me?” Deana asked, rubbing her sore wrists and glancing around Measley’s thick torso in an attempt to better see the captain, who was sitting at the bow of the boat. “Actually, before you answer that, may I have a drink of water? I’m really parched from that thing in my mouth.”
“We’ll jes’ ge righ on that,” said Bullgod, with a sneer. “Would ya like som’in ta nibble on too? Maybe’s yer hungry?”
“Bullgod, there’s no need to be rude to our guest,” said the captain. She bent her torso sideways to get a better look at Deanna. Measley’s thick arms blocked the view for part of each stroke. “You must understand, wench, that we’re just doing the job we were hired to do. We mean you no ill will. You’re just a day’s pay to us, but we’ll treat you fair while you’re in our company.” She glanced at the rat. “Got that, Bullgod?”
“Aye Cap’n,” he replied sullenly.
“Now, I’m afraid we don’t have anything to eat or drink here on The Puck, but once we board our ship, Mother Puck,” she pointed behind her to the large vessel they were quickly nearing, “I’ll make sure you’re fed and watered for the next stretch of our journey. Sound good?’
Deanna didn’t want to be rude, but she couldn’t help but notice they were in a water-filled lake. “Umm, yes, it sounds very nice, thank you. But, I was wondering if I might just take a sip of the lake water? It’s just my mouth is really, really dry.”
“Sure, if’in ya like yer water salty,” said Bullgod with a snort, “goes ahead.”
“The Slightly Silly Sea is a salt lake,” explained the captain. “You’d do yourself more harm than good trying to drink it.”
Deanna had many more questions to ask, but her mouth was dry and her brain more than a little addled by everything that was happening to her today. Still, the sense that she belonged here (well, maybe not ‘here’ as in kidnapped on a pirate boat, but ‘here’ in the bigger sense of the land) was still strong. Deanna wasn’t nearly as frightened as perhaps she ought to be, given the circumstances. In fact, if she were to be honest with herself—which she usually was—she was rather enjoying the adventure.
With Measley’s beefy arms it wasn’t long before they reached Mother Puck. The name of the ship was written in white paint along the side.
“Umm, what is Puck?” Deanna couldn’t not ask any longer.
“Puck?” said the captain, her head jerking toward Deanna, eyes wide. “You don’t know who Puck is?”
Deanna shook her head.
“Well, you’re not a sea-farer, that’s for certain.” The captain made a grand gesture to the water all around them. “Puck is the ruler of all lakes, all seas, all bodies of water through which a pirate ship can navigate. It is he who gives us calm skies when he is happy with us, and storms when he’s angry.”
She pointed behind her to the mammoth wooden ship that they were now bobbing beside. On the deck above, several pirates were dropping a rope ladder over the railing. “Mother Puck is the mother of Puck. She is the one who gave birth to the water, and the fish and all things related to the seas. She is our Great One. The one who all the pirates and lake-faring folk pray to before shut-eye.”
“Oh. Okay,” said Deanna with a shrug. “I thought it might have been a spelling mistake.”
The rope ladder was now dangling down the side of the ship. “Measley, bring us over to the ladder. I’ll go first, then the wench.” She paused, glancing at Deanna. “What is your name, wench?”
“It’s Deanna.” Deanna wondered if she should have given her alias, Deandra, instead, but her real name had just slipped out.
“Then Deanna goes next,” continued the captain. “Bullgod and Measley, you’ll bring up the rear.” She glanced again at Deanna. “I’m Captain Capitan, by the way. But I’d like you to call me Captain while you’re here. Or cap’n will suffice, depending on your dialect.”
Deanna nodded.
Captain Capitan stood and began her ascent of the rope ladder. She made it look easy, but when Deanna followed, it was all she could do to hold on. Her backpack which, thankfully, no one had taken from her, made it even more awkward. A brisk wind had picked up and the dark, ominous clouds she had seen earlier were now directly overhead. A light sprinkling of rain was falling, wetting the rope, making it slippery underfoot.
But Deanna made it and, once at the top, the captain helped to pull her up over the railing and onto the deck, where half a dozen pirates were standing around, staring at her. At quick glance, two looked like human men, one a human woman, another seemed to have a human body and a raccoon face, a fifth had a red horn and tusks much like the bartender back at the Carnivorous Cavern, and the sixth was another big rat, though Deanna had a sense that, unlike Bullgod, this one might be female.
She also had a sense she could be wrong about that and also that gender didn’t really matter so much around here. Which, if she weren’t so busy being kidnapped, would be kind of cool to ponder.
“Redhorn, I’m taking our captive to my rooms. Tell Gator to set sail for Cold Cockle and then bring tea and biscuits for both of us.”
The man with the red horn on his head nodded. “Aye, aye, Cap’n,” he said and strode off toward the bow.
“Deanna, with me,” said Captain Capitan. She turned on her boot heel and marched along the deck toward the rear of the boat. With only a slight hesitation, Deanna followed. It was probably better to be captive with the captain than surrounded by this crew of misfit thug-types.
The captain led her down a flight of creaking wooden steps and into a wood-paneled hallway with closed doors lining both sides. The boat was rocking, making it hard for Deanna to walk a straight line. Her captor seemed used to it, though.
At the very end, a door faced them. Above it were two intricately carved heads of serpent-like creatures, their bodies slithering down either side of the doorframe, positioned as though protecting the room beyond.
“This is my humble abode,” said the captain as she opened the door.
In the middle of the room sat a long wooden table. It was almost completely covered with maps, papers and what Deanna assumed must be navigational tools. Near one wall, a few cushioned chairs sat on either side of a small round table, and Deanna was surprised to see an opened, cover-up copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire lying on it.
Capitan must have seen the astonishment on her face. “Have you read them?” she asked, pointing to the book.
Deanna nodded, swaying with the boat. “It’s my favorite series.”
The captain smiled. “Mine too. I especially love Goblet and the Durmstrangs. What a fantastic ship they have, to sail beneath the seas.” She stepped over to the book and pointed to the author’s name on the cover. “This is someone who has traveled through Illusiland at least once. Of that I have no doubt.”
She gestured to the long table. “This is where all my imagining comes to fruition,” she said. “Where I, along with my crew decide who, where and when to plunder, how to best succeed and what to do wit
h our riches afterward.” She stepped over to it and ran a hand lovingly over a small area of wood that wasn’t covered with paper. “My baby.”
Capitan pointed to another large table off to one side, surrounded by a dozen or so wooden chairs. They were scratching the floor with the ever-increasing rocking. “That’s my dining area.”
The captain turned forty degrees and gestured to an alcove in the far wall. A small bed and nightstand were tucked into it, a large lantern sitting on the latter, a poster of Xena, Warrior Princess hanging on one wall. “My boudoir.”
Before Deanna had a chance to comment, or to better process why the captain would have so-called Mundaland pop-culture items on hand, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” said the captain.
Redhorn entered holding a tray which carried a teapot, milk and sugar bowls, two mugs and a plate of rather delicious-looking cookies. His arms moved adeptly with the boat, preventing his cache from spilling.
“Put them over there,” said Capitan, pointing to the small round table with the Harry Potter book. Redhorn did as told. Then, with a brisk nod of his head and click of his heels—some sort of Captain salute, Deanna supposed—he left, shutting the door behind him.
“Have a seat,” said Capitan, gesturing to one of the chairs. Deanna did as ordered, removing her backpack and tucking it beside her. Her captor took the other seat, bookmarking Goblet before shutting the novel and placing it on a nearby shelf, then masterfully poured tea into the two mugs without spilling a drop. “Sugar?” she asked. “Milk? It’s almond-cashew.” The captain pointed to the sloshing white liquid.