“At least on this,” Leech nodded.
Koko sighed. “Well, I wish we were in one of your castles now,” he said to Scirye. “I could use a big steak right now.” When his belly began to rumble at such a thought, he patted it. “Down, boy.”
Leech reached for the sack and opened it. “Let’s see what’s on our menu then.”
Mugwort had given them several canteens of water, packets of crackers, half a wheel of cheese, and six candy bars.
“How can a guy keep up his strength on just this?” Koko complained. “It’s a snack, not a meal.”
When a gong sounded below to announce dinner, Scirye instinctively looked down at the floor like the others, but from the corner of her eye she saw Koko palming the extra candy bar.
“On the other hand,” Scirye muttered to Kles, “I wouldn’t mind owning a dungeon for a little while. I can think of a certain person who might learn something after a week there.”
Bayang
In the unheated hold, it was growing cold even though they had kept on their other clothes underneath the coveralls. Gratefully, they wrapped themselves in the blankets that Mugwort had provided.
With nothing else to do, they ate and then dozed off and on during the long hours of the flight. Even Leech fell asleep, slumped beneath the window, his head leaning against the wall.
Bayang was grateful to be left alone, surprised by what she had blurted out to the children. Her motives had seemed so clear to her when she was young: protect her people in any way she could. When she had been ordered to become an assassin, she put aside her reluctance and threw herself into her training. She had told herself that she was sacrificing her own life for the sake of her own clan.
Talking with the hatchlings had made Bayang wonder if she was as much of an outcast among her own kind. Oh, when she went home between assignments her kin were always polite, and yet the compliments were excessive, the service fawning, until it was almost a relief to leave.
Well, she smiled ruefully, if you were a normal person, would you want to make an assassin angry?
Long suppressed doubts bubbled up in her mind. She carried out her duties in the shadows, and it was as if her people sensed the darkness that tainted her. They needed her, but they didn’t want her. She didn’t fit in with the dragons any more than the hatchlings did with humans—which made them a match for one another. She shook her head in amazement. It seemed so strange that she had more in common with an enemy than she did with her own people.
She had no hatchlings—there had never been any time for them, assuming that she could have found a mate willing to partner with a killer—but as she watched Leech, she suddenly felt the strangest emotion. It was a tenderness she had never experienced before.
Bayang shrugged off her blanket and then opened her coveralls to the waist so she could take off her coat. Folding it into a pillow, she put it down on the floor next to Leech and eased his head onto it. When she turned, she saw Koko watching her as he lay on his side. He gave her a grudging nod and then closed his eyes again.
Sleep, though, brought Bayang little rest, for she kept having terrible nightmares in which she was a hatchling again and Badik was chasing her. When she woke the next morning, she was sweating, and she found herself staring about wildly for Badik.
“Are you all right?” Leech asked when he heard her stirring. He was already back at his station by the window.
She became aware of her coat, which had been folded up neatly beside her. “Yes,” she said shakily as she sat up.
“Sometimes I have bad dreams, too,” he said sympathetically. “I’m back in the orphanage again and the bullies are after me.”
Strange that she should have something else in common with Leech. “Bullies come in all sizes and shapes,” she agreed.
When the others got up, they finished off their remaining food. Koko made a point of grumbling again about the portions.
A few hours later, they heard the pilot’s voice dimly through the bulwark. “Aloha, folks. I thought you’d want to know that in just a few minutes, we will be coming up on the newest addition to the Kingdom of Hawaii, the island of Houlani.”
By Bayang’s watch, it was nearing eleven A.M. by San Francisco time. She thought that would be about nine A.M. by Honolulu time.
Everyone crowded around the window, trying to see. The sky outside was now a vivid blue, lit by the morning sun.
“Up ahead on the starboard side is a diamond in the rough, the island of Houlani. It’s the creation of a unique combination of magic and science. Islands are rising from volcanic activity on the sea floor all the time, but most never reach the surface. However, that great visionary, Nathaniel Roland, has sped up the normal geographical process and then shaped the island itself once it broke the surface.
“The western half of the island is the oldest where the new city is rising even as we speak. Mr. Roland is building villas and apartments with every luxury and amenity possible. The eastern half is still being created. Normally you couldn’t see it because of the smoke and steam, but the winds are blowing just right today.”
They pressed their heads together even more as they gazed down at the large, kidney-shaped island that curled about a harbor facing southwest. The eastern half lay like a black lump of obsidian, but at its heart was a huge crater in which pulsed a bright red and gold oval that was the lava. More red and gold stripes traced their way to the sea, where plumes of steam rose like a feathery fringe.
The pilot continued, “You can see the lake from which the lava is channeled to the edge of the island so Houlani can expand. The crater is about two thousand feet above sea level and measures a half mile in circumference. The lake on the crater floor is just a little under four hundred feet below the rim.”
In the center, wharves jutted out into the little harbor and behind them were long rectangular buildings that must have been warehouses and barracks. To their surprise, there was already an abundance of green foliage and blue ponds in the western half, with pink buildings dotting the surface like mushrooms. The structures varied in size from tiny dots that must have been bungalows to sprawling mansions. The morning sun painted the surface with long shadows.
“One of these days, the eastern half will be just as lush and inviting as the western half. Mr. Roland has used the same imaginative blend of the magical arts there to speed up the geological process that converts volcanic rock to rich soil, and then encouraged the trees and gardens to grow. It’s truly promising to be a paradise among paradises.”
And then the island disappeared behind them and they could feel the plane begin to descend.
Hurriedly, Bayang put the patch back over the porthole by one screw. That left it so it could be tilted slightly to the side so that the outside was still visible. “Koko, you keep watch here. Once we reach the wharf, you tell us. We’ll rush out of the hold and down to the passenger deck. The crew will be so busy docking that they won’t have time to stop us.”
“And then we get the ring back,” Scirye said.
“And get even,” Leech said grimly.
Scirye
The hull rocked as the Clipper’s belly slapped against the surface of the water and then leaped into the air again. The seaplane gave a half dozen more bounces, the space between hops growing shorter as the seaplane lost momentum.
And then the loud roar of the propellers lowered to a steady hum as they gently swung the seaplane slightly toward the right. The plane bobbed up and down over the waves as it glided toward the docks of Honolulu’s own seaplane port, which bustled with other seaplanes, dirigibles, and boats just as San Francisco’s had.
“Welcome to the Kingdom of Hawaii, folks,” the pilot announced over the intercom. “The local time here is 9:31 A.M.”
Koko gave a jump when he saw the patrol boat glide toward them. From its mast flew the flag of the Kingdom of Hawaii with its red, white, and blue stripes and Union Jack in the upper left-hand corner. And on its deck was a 40mm Bofors cannon swiveli
ng back and forth on its mount as if hunting for a target.
The engines cut entirely so that the seaplane was hardly moving at all against the wind.
“And what do you know, folks,” the pilot said with fake cheer. “The queen’s sent a ship to welcome us to her islands. She really knows how to say ‘Aloha’!”
“Is this for Roland or do they do this for every seaplane?” Leech wondered.
Bayang peered over his head. The gun crew wore platelike helmets and flotation vests and their expressions were grim rather than welcoming. “If this is Hawaiian hospitality, I’d hate to see what they do when they’re mad.”
Being a diplomat’s daughter, Scirye was more aware of the currents of politics. “They’re not here to say hello. They’re here to protect Roland.”
“A big cheese like him has probably made a lot of enemies along the way,” Koko said.
Bayang folded her arms thoughtfully. “I read that a lot of the locals, including the queen, didn’t want to let Roland create the island in the first place.”
“If she didn’t want it, why is it getting built?” Leech asked.
“Because it was going to happen anyway,” Bayang explained. “Roland said it was in international waters and the United States backed him up. I think the queen’s council talked her into it by arguing that if the kingdom participated, they might have a say in how and what things are done.”
“From what little we’ve had to do with Roland,” Scirye said, “I can’t see him cooperating with anyone.”
Bayang chewed her lip. “If the Hawaiian Navy is here, then the army is probably waiting at the pier. We might have to change our plans. So everybody stay put.”
Frustrated, Scirye ground a fist into her knee. “We can’t just let him walk away. We should tell the police.”
“Take it from me, kid,” Koko grunted. “We’re stowaways. The cops here won’t believe us any more than the cops in San Francisco.”
“An opportunity always comes up,” Bayang said. She sounded as if she were sure it was a fact rather than just a possibility.
Which struck Scirye as a curious attitude to take, but then dragons lived so long that they could afford to wait. Frustrated, the girl rolled up all the axes into a bundle again.
Bayang kept watch by the window as the Clipper slowed. After hours of noise, it was strange when the engines cut back to a dull thumping.
“There’s a squad on the dock. No, make that two—blast, it’s a whole platoon and armed to the teeth.” Bayang slid the cover completely over the window. “The only soldiers without guns are the ones in the brass band.”
When the pilot killed the engines completely, the Clipper’s momentum kept it gliding forward. It was easier now to hear the tubas and trumpets playing some cheerful marching song, but it failed to lift the stowaways’ spirits.
They sat waiting in the gloom among the boxes, listening to the thumps below as the passengers began to disembark. A voice from outside boomed through a megaphone, “Aloha! If you’ll follow me, Mr. Roland, there’s a little welcoming ceremony in the terminal.”
“The ceremony might give us time to set up our ambush,” Scirye said, cradling the bundle of axes.
The music dwindled as the band marched away with the soldiers, Roland, and Badik. It was only a few minutes, but it felt like hours before they heard the sound of a truck pulling up to the Clipper, and another eternity before the hatch opened.
Someone began to whistle but mangled the notes so badly Bayang and the others looked at one another uncertainly, unsure if it was the same tune as Mugwort’s.
When they didn’t answer, the whistler repeated the torture again. Kles felt like flying up and stopping the butchery of a perfectly innocent song.
A moment later, the empty crate was drawn away, and when a head appeared in the opening, they saw why the signal had been botched so badly. Crocodile lips were never meant to whistle.
The slitted eyes regarded them with a cold, reptilian disdain. “Mugwort didn’t tell me about no kids.” He gave a snigger. “He must be lowering his standards for smuggling. Are you tone deaf? I gave the signal twice.”
Leech was going to make some sassy remark, but Scirye was a diplomat’s daughter. “The propellers were so loud, it’s still hard to hear now even though they’re stopped.”
“When I whistle again, come out. And this time, get the cue right.” Mugwort’s friend disappeared again.
Quickly, Scirye zipped Kles inside her coveralls again and tucked the rolled-up rug fragment with the axes under one arm.
After a moment, from outside, they could hear the crocodile giving orders in a loud voice. “Leave the stuff in the rear to last.”
They heard hollow footsteps on the metal deck as baggage handlers worked in front of the wall. After about ten minutes, they heard the strange whistle again.
When they had climbed over the wall of crates, they had a better look at the crocodile. While his head was what Scirye thought a full-grown crocodile would have, it was mounted on a squat, scaled body only three feet high. On top of his head was a hideous black wig that smelled faintly of wet dog. He was so top heavy, it was amazing that he didn’t topple over.
Most of the cargo and luggage was gone, but there was still a stack of four suitcases. He motioned to them. “Take those off the plane and put them on one of the carts outside. After that, you’re on your own.”
“Where is Roland’s baggage going?” Bayang asked.
“Do I look like a bulletin board to you?” the crocodile sneered.
Bayang looked ready to shake the little crocodile, but Koko slipped in between them. “Let me handle this,” he told her. Then he placed a friendly hand on the crocodile’s shoulder. “Sorry, buddy. But she’s new to the game so she doesn’t know how things work.”
“Yeah, well,” the crocodile grunted, “nothing’s free. You think hippo steaks grow on trees?”
Scirye had no idea where one got hippo meat in Hawaii, but then ships and planes came here from around the world, probably including Africa.
“Help us out and you’ll find Mugwort grateful,” Koko coaxed. “Him and me go way back.”
“He just said to get you off the seaplane.” The crocodile tried to shrug off Koko’s hand.
Leech grinned and whispered to the others, “No one escapes when Koko puts the touch on someone.”
“Literally,” Bayang agreed.
“It must have slipped his mind,” Koko said, and added conspiratorially, “He’s never been quite right in the head since that lead pipe conked him in the bean.” Koko wheedled for several minutes until in exasperation the crocodile gave in, sensing that it was the only way to get rid of the pest.
“There’s a marina next to the seaplane port. Everything’s going to his yacht, the Sea Breeze. You can’t miss it because it’s a white boat big enough to carry a herd of elephants.”
“Maybe we should just go with the crates,” Koko said over his shoulder to his companions.
“Nix. You wouldn’t get past the front gate to the marina,” the crocodile said, wagging his large head. “There’s been a lot of thefts there lately so security’s tighter than a drum. We turn over the cargo and luggage to the marina’s personnel, and I can’t get you their IDs.”
They waited until they had left the Clipper before they talked over what to do.
“Koko, you’ll have to distract Roland’s escort,” Bayang said.
“Why me? Why not you?” Koko demanded.
“Because I’m going to take my true form,” Bayang explained. “I only need a minute to zoom in, knock out Roland and Badik, and carry them off to a spot where you”—she nodded to Scirye and Leech—”will be waiting with ropes.”
“Like these?” Leech grinned as he snatched up several coils of rope and slipped an arm through them.
“Yes, just like those,” Bayang agreed.
They deposited the luggage on one of the carts being drawn by a small tractor and then followed it through the hangars.
Though there were fewer buildings than in San Francisco, the ones here had thicker walls of concrete and steel to resist the battering of all the storms that passed through Hawaii.
Certainly there was as much noise and traffic as back in San Francisco, and they had to dodge trucks and carts pulled by teams of giant auks.
The cart entered into a big area at the rear of the passenger terminal and they slipped away then, trying to look as if they were familiar with everything while from the corners of their eyes they hunted for an exit door, eventually finding one that led into the passenger side.
It was like going from night into day. Not only were there more lights, but the walls had been decorated with mosaics of tan-skinned humans in grass skirts or wearing outfits of gaudy cloth. Coconut and palm trees rose in the background of the pictures and every other square space had been filled with different flowers. But what fascinated Kles the most were the exotic birds that looked as if they stripped all the hues from a rainbow. San Francisco’s terminal might have been larger but it was certainly less colorful.
There were lines of passengers at the various airline counters and another crowd standing around the platform where various dignitaries in suits were welcoming Roland. Badik stood behind him. Off to one side was the band and the honor guard, all in tropical white uniforms and enough brass and gilt braid to outfit a temple. On their heads were wide-brimmed pith helmets from which large red plumes rose.
When she felt Kles stirring restlessly, Scirye put a hand on her coveralls over the spot and he grew still. She hoped no one had noticed, but a four-foot-high gecko in a pillbox cap looked at her curiously as he opened the front doors for them.
Outside the sunlight filled Honolulu like warm water in a bowl so that Scirye almost felt as if she were bathing rather than walking. She opened her coveralls immediately and Kles gratefully slipped up to her shoulder, where he began to groom himself.
After the long, cramped trip in the plane hold, they were all grateful to be free and their steps became more lively. Even Bayang felt relaxed enough to play the tour guide. Explaining that she had been here on other assignments, she briefly pointed out the sights.
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