Mearsies Heili Bounces Back

by Sherwood Smith

Puddlenose howled into the carpet, his voice blessedly muffled.

  I eased the tip of the knife under the armlet, then started to wedge the thing off, hoping not to cut his skin. Puddlenose jerked—and the knife flew out of my hand. Greenish sparks winkled across my vision.

  I scrambled for the knife.

  Behind me there was a thud. And a sigh as the captain rose. “Stunned him. Quick,” he murmured, wringing his hand. And he helped me to get the knife under the armlet. The metal almost seemed to be fighting us, but then quite suddenly it sprang off, hitting the wall with an unmusical clang. Puddlenose, who’d just begun to stir, fell back in a faint.

  “Shall I get it? So we don’t leave evidence?” I asked. “No, wait—we better leave it—”

  The captain nodded in approval as he wiped his hair back off his forehead. “Let Shnit think Puddlenose got rid of it himself, and vanished.” He sighed again. “Keep the knife. I’m going to have to carry him.”

  He stood up, slung Puddlenose over his shoulder, and out we went, Puddlenose’s arms swinging lifelessly behind the captain’s back.

  The trip back seemed to take forever, but we made it: the worst part was waiting for the middle-of-the-night patrol to change.

  Once we’d done that (Puddlenose wrapped up like a giant worm in a black cape) we slunk along the wall and out, and down to the shore, and though by then the dawn was paling the beach, we had to risk the boat and sail out, first with oars so it wouldn’t be spotted, and then at last the captain had them raise the single sail. We got thoroughly drenched, and shivered in the bitter, strong rain, but it kept us hidden from shore.

  We had just gotten away from the waves and were sailing seaward when the bells in the castle towers started clanging loud enough to carry over the water.

  “They’ve discovered he’s gone,” I exclaimed.

  “Search will go out over land,” the Captain predicted. “Let’s put some back into it—make certain they have no reason to think of the sea.” The men rowed, to help the sail.

  We bucked and plunged over huge, choppy waves for what seemed about fifty years, me gritting my teeth as I kept watch by Puddlenose, making sure the water sloshing over the side did not drown him.

  TEN

  Puddlenose started waking up halfway back along the journey to the ship. He groaned, but the captain did not unwrap him from the cloak. Presently he stopped moving and mumbling, and fell asleep.

  When we reached the ship, they handed Puddlenose up first, and he was stashed in the forward cabin, which had a sturdy wooden door that could be guarded. Just in case there was still magic on him.

  We all went through the cleaning frame, then got into dry clothes. I breathed deeply of the fresh air, thinking—that is, hoping—that getting Puddlenose away from the horrible atmosphere of Chwahirsland would help him, since I had no access to my own magic. And even if I’d had it, I had no idea how to break Shnit’s spells—I would need Clair’s library, if not her help.

  The cook had prepared a hot, tasty soup that could simmer until we returned, so we all sat down and ate, then I went down below to my hammock and fell asleep.

  I woke when one of the kids came to get me. “Puddlenose’s waking up! Captain said to get you,” he reported, eyes wide with excitement.

  I flipped out of my hammock and zoomed up the ladder, ran along the companionway to the forecastle, where Captain Heraford awaited me.

  He opened the cabin door and I went in first. The bunk was built under the steep inward slant of the bow. A scuttle had been opened overhead, letting in light and air. Puddlenose sat up in bed, looking much as he had in Shnit’s castle—hair sticking up wildly, stupid frilly nightshirt awry, cut down one arm—but now he was rubbing his hands over his face, especially his eyes.

  “Puddlenose?” I said.

  He dropped his hands, turned his head, and squinted at me. I guessed he had a stencherooni of a headache.

  “CJ! Where did you come from? Why am I in this disgusting thing?” He flipped his fingers through the ruffles at the front of the night shirt.

  “You’re back,” I exclaimed happily.

  “I was gone? Ow, my head hurts. Oh, wait. I remember ...”

  Captain Heraford came forward. “Bide easy. We’ll have some healer tea up here in a moment, and some food.”

  “And some clothes? Did I leave any behind last cruise?” Puddlenose asked, grimacing down at himself.

  “If you didn’t, you know we have the storage trunk. Something’s bound to fit.”

  “Anything but this thing!”

  I snorted. “You look like an idiot.”

  “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

  I grinned, then did a chicken dance supremo from pure joy. The other two laughed, and when I stopped cackling I said, “Phew! It’s such a relief that you are okay! We didn’t know if there were any more spells on you. Doesn’t sound like it—unless, of course, there’s one to make you extra crabby.”

  For answer he chucked the pillow at me. I dodged, picked it up, tossed it back and whizzed out the cabin door.

  A short time later Puddlenose appeared, wearing somebody’s deck pants and an old shirt that at least didn’t have any ruffles. A bruise was forming along the brown skin of his jaw, and he touched it gingerly, but the first thing he said was, “Thanks, Captain. CJ.”

  “Come into the cabin,” the captain said, smiling. “It’s time for a conference.”

  I said as we tramped back down the companionway aft, dodging round sailors at work, “Before the gabble, I want to hear what happened to you, and wow, wait until you get an earful of Kwenz’s splat of a plan for me!”

  “Who first?” the captain said, turning from one of us to the other.

  Puddlenose sank onto the bench at the captain’s table. “I’m still waiting for the listerblossom steep to clear out my head. CJ, you go first.”

  “Okay, but tell me quick, do you know what happened to Clair?”

  “I was there when she vanished, so that much I know, but not much else.”

  “At least we have that much,” I said, relieved. Then launched into my story, and I didn’t stint on the insults, either. That is, I didn’t say anything awful about Pralineh. Except one teeny tiny snark about all that sewing and marriage junk. (And sure enough Puddlenose grimaced in agreement.) I reserved my very best pocalubes for Kwenz, Rel, and Raneseh. Especially Rel.

  Puddlenose laughed in all the right places, which improved my mood, but when I was done, I realized I still didn’t really feel better about that disgusting mess.

  “All right. I’m done. Your turn.”

  “Isn’t as much to tell,” Puddlenose said. “I’d just gotten home for a visit.”

  Again, I thought. It was odd, how he did that. As if Puddlenose had a weird sort of trouble magnet—showing up just when something was about to happen.

  Puddlenose held up a hand. “I swear I didn’t know anything. I just wanted to relax, catch up on news. Teach Faline this new game I learned way, way down south—nearly at the Land Bridge.”

  I gritted my teeth, impatient for news about Clair.

  Puddlenose flashed a grin at me. “So there I was, just arrived. Janil saw me. Said she’d have some toasted cheese-breads with tomato and some of that green herb she puts on ’em—”

  “Basil,” I said, hopping on the deck. “Fleeb on your sandwich! What about Clair?”

  “Now, did I interrupt your story? Even when you kept stopping to tell us just how ugly and stupid that Rel fellow was, in case we hadn’t heard it the first 500 times?”

  “Clair!” I demanded.

  “All right, all right. She was in the library. I’d just found her, and we were going to go back to the kitchen because as usual she’d forgotten lunch, when—”

  “So she didn’t know I was gone?”

  Puddlenose crossed his arms, leaned back, and looked out the stern windows as if he’d just seen a three-headed sloth.

  I sighed loudly. “All RIGHT. No more interruptions
.”

  He went on. “When she jerked up—like this—and said Unbelievable—he did it! Before I could ask what ‘it’ was, she grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself and started whispering magic spells. I tried looking around for an enemy to attack—some way to defend her—but no one was in sight. And when I turned back, she blurred and vanished.” He made a gesture toward the deck. “Like she dropped through the floor.”

  “That’s creepy.” I kicked my toes against the edge of the table, as if that would make anything better. But I was so desperate to get home. “Maybe Kwenz’s nasty magic? Usually transfer spells are a flicker. Sometimes light, if it’s dark where you go and the other place is light, and it kind of blinks through. Yuk! But she didn’t fall down, did she? Collapse? Like she was, um—”

  “Dead?” Puddlenose said, grimacing. “No.”

  I heaved another sigh. “Then I’m just going to believe she’s okay, and that’s that. So what happened next?”

  “That’s when Kwenz’s band of bullies ran in. They were obviously looking for her, but they settled for me instead. After a short fight they got the drop on me. I did see one of them come into the room with you over his shoulder, snoring away. Your arms were dangling down. It looked like you were picking his pocket. I wanted to tell Faline—she’d like that joke—everything will be all right if you can make a joke—but there was no Faline. Then Jilo came in, and looked at me, and said, That’s the right one. Then a fellow stepped on my elbow, and they put that snake thing on my arm, and then ...” He shrugged. Whatever he’d experienced wasn’t going to get aired, I knew from his look. “Then you two came along. So. What’s the plan?”

  “Go home and boot Kwenz out, of course,” I said—hoping that if I said it often enough, a plan would flap through the air and bomb my head with a good idea.

  “Right,” Puddlenose said. “Uh. How?”

  “We’ll have to figure that out. When we get nearer home,” I said, then groaned. “That sounds as stupid as Rel. But ... maybe when we get there, and see things, a plan will come?”

  Captain Heraford said, “My allies can hold off any transport launch. And Shnit is bound to search, so the farther we get from here the better.”

  Puddlenose said, “I think CJ is right. If we get home and scout, maybe then we’ll know what to do.”

  Captain Heraford looked out the stern windows. Then at us. “If you want me to take you to Mearsies Heili I will. But you should probably know that it was once my home, until I was outlawed.”

  “By Clair?” I gasped, stiffening up—like I was going to dive out the window? Dummy, I thought next.

  But then he shook his head. “Her mother. Oh, I don’t say I didn’t deserve it. I was midway between your ages, and thought to get the queen’s attention by making trouble. Not a good idea. Anyway, circumstances have changed since then. As you see. But the fact remains, my family and I are outlaws.”

  “Clair would listen,” I said promptly, because I knew it was true. “But it would be great to have the help!”

  Puddlenose nodded—at the same time he was sipping healer tea, so of course he snarfled some up his nose, and I couldn’t help laughing as he gasped and choked and gagged and then staggered all over, clutching his throat. He was already feeling better.

  o0o

  I’m going to skip a bunch of time, though it was great fun. Except for some of the worst of the summer storms. We were actually sailing pretty much against the wind, though the ship was rigged for that. What that meant was, we zigzagged back and forth over the Elgar Strait, like we were stitching it. Then out into the huge ocean—in time to get whammied with a super-storm, which blew us way off course.

  We ended up at Feleit Island, off the east coast of Goerael, the continent north of our Toar. It being close to the equator, there was a lot of almost jungly growth, the air filled with spice and citrus smells. The kids were super friendly, as they didn’t see outsiders much. They begged us to stay, but we promised to come back—and I could tell that Puddlenose, who was an itchfoot, would probably find his way there as soon as he could.

  After that it was easier as the winds were different, pushing us hard and fast so we skimmed over the waves like a dolphin diving. When at last the bumps of the Tornacio Islands showed on the horizon, Puddlenose and I were all ready to sail straight in, but the captain made us wait for the night tide. He wanted us coming in under cover of darkness.

  So we did.

  Puddlenose and I stood together near the bow. I was so scared I hadn’t been able to eat. At least I wasn’t alone any more, but I could tell Puddlenose was just as worried. Neither of us knew what to do ... we only knew we had to do it.

  And I knew I had to do it myself. If I let some grownup take over and tell the kiddies what to do, who’s to say they would hand back the kingdom afterward? Puddlenose agreed, when I whispered it to him. It was up to us.

  o0o

  There was no one at all in the harbor of the main island. That was already weird. Usually that harbor not only had a lot of ships at the docks looking like teeth to a comb all along the harbor, but they were anchored out in the middle of the bay, with a zillion little boats going back and forth to and from them.

  We were alone, and as we floated up to the main dock, all the crew quiet and ready for action, I was glad we’d waited.

  “I wonder if this is where the Chwahir transport is to come,” Captain Heraford said as we drifted in on the last of the tide, crew members poised to leap to the wharf and tie us to the dock—or else raise the sails and get us away if there was any sign of danger.

  He and a few of his fiercest fellows accompanied Puddlenose and me onto the dock, and over the pretty gold-painted bridge to the land, where there was a huge brick square that was usually full of sailors, business people, travelers, kids, and vendors with carts selling food and stuff.

  Nothing.

  We didn’t carry any lanterns or anything, so the only light was from the windows of the houses cut into the side of the hills—and very few lights there were. We passed the big central fountain without looking at it; we were busy eyeing the dark houses, and the windy trails between them, for possible enemies.

  “Lina lives here,” I said, pointing to the big building where all the government stuff was held.

  The front doors stood open. Except for footprints of muddy boots—long dried—nobody was around. That was as weird as the harbor. Lina’s house was usually full of people, especially kids traveling.

  “Okay, this is really creepy.” My voice squeaked as it echoed faintly from the marble walls.

  Our search ended at the main hall. There was Lina’s throne (her joking name for a comfy chair on the old dais) but it, too, was empty. However, the room was not empty. Before the throne stood a single kid-sized figure.

  I squinted, then gasped. I recognized that still figure—Robin, one of Lina’s friends! She looked sad and forlorn.

  And she was a statue.

  Well, at least I knew what to do about that.

  Or, I thought I did. Would I be dispelled if I just activated an old spell? Hoping this would be somehow performing magic, I touched her eyelids. And braced for anything.

  She shuddered, gasped, then stumbled forward, as if she’d been frozen in the act of moving. Then she peered at me—standing there with moonlight streaming in on my face. “Cherene Jennet!” she exclaimed. “Is it over? Who are these people?”

  “I don’t know if you’ve met Puddlenose, Clair’s cousin. And that’s Captain Heraford, who brought us on the Tzasilia.” I realized Robin was scarcely listening, and said, “Where’s Lina?”

  Robin rubbed her fingers over her temples. Her hands shook. “Last thing I heard was Kwenz gloating. Saying she could preside forever, watching over the sea.”

  “Huh?”

  “Fountain?” Puddlenose suggested.

  We trooped out again, and this time found some lanterns by the front door.

  Well, we’d passed right by the fountain without g
iving it a second glance, but then we’d been moving cautiously, looking around for enemies while not blinding ourselves with lights. Now, in the light of the lanterns, we saw poor Lina standing precariously on top of the fancy carvings of sea flowers and creatures, one arm jerked back as if she were held there, the other pointing, her mouth open for a yell. Somebody had decided to make her a magical fountain and she was spouting water into the pool, instead of the dolphins on the old statue.

  I scrambled up as quick as I could. Balancing precariously on the cold marble, I reached up and touched her eyes. She shivered, shuddered, her hands went up—and she fell over backwards, barely missing some of the carvings, and landed with a splash.

  I jumped into the water on the other side. Yow! It was colder than I thought.

  Lina climbed soggily out, her white hair straggling down her back, her freckles distinct in her pale face as she sputtered, “CJ! Thanks! That flea-faced, Phonei-livered, pie-eyed, banana-brained ... wow, that felt terrible! And Kwenz just laughed and laughed when Jilo made me spit water!”

  I sat down on the edge of the fountain. “It feels like I’m never going to find out what happened.”

  “Wrong,” Lina declared, squelching down beside me. “They were so pleased with themselves. Jilo looking at me and laughing. He told Kwenz what he’d done with all of us. That was his assignment, see, while Kwenz took over the kingdom—to get rid of us in a way no one would figure out, in case they needed to bring us back for their evil plots, or for hostage purposes, whichever came first.”

  “So you know? Where the others are?”

  “I know what they are, and kinda where,” she said. “Unless Jilo was lying.”

  I rubbed my hands. “Then we’ve got a plan—to free them. Hurray! Our first piece of good luck!”

  As usual, the Mearsieans born on this world looked blank—they still couldn’t figure out what luck was. But I didn’t care.

  “Who’s first? That is, who’s closest?”

  Lina grimaced. “Faline and Irene, right across the bay, in Elchnudaeb. Fobo turned Irene into a servant, and Faline is a gemstone in Prince Jonnicake’s crown.”