by Arthur Slade
“Quick smarts?”
“Yep, you solve problems quick like. Lickety-split and all that. Why, lookit how you solved our problems when the ship was on fire. Quick smarts.”
I liked the sound of that. I’m not certain that’s what Dad was thinking. But I was glad Bonnie thought so highly of me.
“Thanks, Bonnie.” I did feel better.
“You be needing your quick smarts right now,” she said.
“Why is that? Do you have a problem?”
She pointed up.
“There be a ship above, charging down on us.”
Chapter Twelve
She was right. I could see a little black dot growing bigger and bigger.
Coming out of the sun. As I mentioned, it is the oldest trick in the book.
But just as I was about to shout Open fire! I hesitated.
The boat had wings and was white as a wedding dress.
Crystal. She was peeking over the edge.
“There you are, Conn! My sweet prince! I am so pleased and happy in my heart that you are safe. I heard guns. And thunder. I was so worried about you.”
“Yes, I’m all right,” I said. “It has been an adventure. I saved my father from exploding doves and buccaneers in blue. I think the open skies are the best place for him.”
“Good thinking. You are so smart.” She said this to me face-to-face. How? Because in a heartbeat she’d dropped a rope and rappeled down to the deck of our ship. Impressive feat! Especially in a dress.
She was so beautiful. Like a statue on the front of a ship. But alive. And not made of wood.
“You have no idea how nice that is to hear,” I said. I was tempted to make smoochy lips. Maybe this time I’d finally get her to kiss me.
She was holding a second rope that led up to her boat. “You’re very smart, Conn. The skies are the best place for your father. In fact, why don’t we send him up to my boat? No one will look for him there. It’s the kind of smart idea you’d think of.” She paused. “I have a great pulley system.”
“Huh?” I said. But then I realized that didn’t sound very smart. “I mean, why would I do that?”
“Because I can take him to Stitch-Me-Up. That’s a smart plan. A Conn plan, I should say. He’ll be safe there. The kingdom will be safe. I really want to help you out.”
I thought about the idea. Bonnie was making some noise, clearing her throat, but I ignored her. Maybe Dad would be safer at Stitch-Me-Up. But something was niggling in the back of my head. A thought. A smart thought. “Why are you doing this?”
“To help you, of course. Friends help each other.”
“That is so kind,” I said, even though I was thinking I didn’t want to be just friends. “But I don’t think I can send Dad there. The best thing is to find Mom and—”
As I spoke, Crystal’s face went dark. “Give. Me. Your. Father!” she shouted. “Right now!” I must say, the look on her face was not attractive. Nor was the spittle that struck my face. It flew like wet shotgun pellets.
“Why are you getting so angry?”
“Give me your father right now. I demand it. So I can finish my revenge.”
“What are you talking about? What revenge? You’re from Cloud Island. You’re always nice.”
“No, I’m not. I’m not that at all.” She poked my forehead with her index finger. “You are so thick-headed.”
“Don’t say that!” I held my forehead. “What is with you? You aren’t acting like Crystal at all.”
“I’m not Crystal—there is no Crystal. My name is Betsy. I’m the daughter of Zeba.”
I must admit, I was drawing a blank. I should have been drawing a gun, but I was too confused. What the heck was going on? “Zeba who?”
“Your aunt Zeba. Your mom exploded her ship.”
“Oh. That rings a bell.”
“I’m your cousin, you idiot,” she added. “And I’m tenth in line for the throne.” She chuckled. “Sorry, make that seventh. And now I’m going to kill you.”
Chapter Thirteen
“My cousin?” I nearly shouted the word. “But I almost kissed you!”
“It would have been your last kiss.”
My brain started to put two and two together. “You’re the daughter of Aunt Zeba! Is she behind all this?”
“No. Mom’s dead. That’s why this is revenge. I was on the ship when it crashed. But I didn’t die. I climbed out of that wreck, clung onto a chunk of wood and drifted to the Island of the Blue Buccaneers. They raised me and my doves. For the last nine years, I’ve planned every detail of this brilliant plot to take over the throne. I even faked my way into your school.”
“That be a great plan,” Bonnie said. She was pointing a flintlock pistol at Crystal—I mean, Betsy. “Except that you be stuck upon our ship.”
“Keep your useless king then. I’ll just dump you all in the drink.” With that, Betsy started hooting like a monkey.
“Stop that!” I said.
“Should I be shooting her?” Bonnie said.
My cousin kept howling and even made a few ape sounds. Then she scratched under her armpits, monkey style.
“I think she’s gone mad,” I said to Bonnie. “Hold your fire.”
Taking advantage of the moment, Betsy shouted toward her boat, “Anchors up!” The white silken rope yanked her up to her boat before Bonnie could get a shot off.
“Enjoy your death by airship!” Betsy shouted down to us.
Her meaning became clear in a few moments. A flock of airships was coming out of the sun. They were small one-person ships, each with a tiny bladder keeping it aloft. I mean tiny in airship terms, of course. So about six yards long.
I didn’t believe what I was seeing. The ships were being piloted by monkeys! And each of the little ships had a cannon mounted on the front. The monkeys began firing.
“We be in big trouble now,” Bonnie said.
The cannonballs were only the size of oranges, but they shot through the deck just fine. And the monkeys zipped back and forth and stuck with us no matter how we tried to avoid them. No aerial maneuvers would work. The monkey zeppelins were too fast. Soon Cindy was a wreck, holes everywhere. A pack of dynamite chucked from a monkey ship blew one of our masts over. It was a miracle that it didn’t hit the bladder.
“Give us more power!” I shouted.
But Odin began swearing in another language. In several languages. “A bomb hit the boiler, Captain. She’s going to blow!”
“We have to abandon ship,” I said. “There is no other way.”
“I be going down with the ship,” Bonnie said.
“You aren’t going down with the ship,” I said. “None of us are.”
I raced to my cabin and got the bag Mrs. Pandora had given me. The one I had taken such pains to hide from the crew. Even Bonnie.
“What be these?” she asked.
“Gliding parachutes. I thought it better if the crew didn’t know there was a way to escape Cindy.”
“You be thinking proper,” Bonnie said.
“Line the crew up. One by one. I’ll take the wheel. You help get the crew off safely.”
It took some convincing to get the crew to put on the silky chutes. Then Hooky went over the edge, shouting, “Wheeeeee!” The rest followed. One after the other, dodging the monkey ships and aiming for the nearest island.
“You next!” I said to Bonnie.
“No. I be last off the ship.”
“No, the captain is always the last off. Now fly. Like the wind.”
“All right, Prince Conn. I be going.”
I watched Bonnie slip on the glider. She was over the edge a few seconds later. I heard a faint “Wheeeeee!”
I reached into the bag and pulled out the last glider. Dad and I were the only ones left on the ship. We couldn’t use it together. It would rip under our weight. I supposed I could just leave him on the deck. He had called me dumb, after all.
Ah, I couldn’t leave him. He’d hugged me! “Dad, Dad!” I
said. “Wake up.” I splashed some water on his face.
“What is it?”
“Well, we’re being attacked by monkeys in airships controlled by your niece Betsy, daughter of Aunt Zeba. She planned all the attacks. Betsy, that is, not Zeba. Aunt Zeba is still dead. The ship is going down, and you need to use this glider parachute to land safely on that island down there. Help is on the way.”
“Sounds good, son. Betsy, you say? I never did like that brat.”
“Just go!” The monkeys were buzzing all around the ship at this point. Laughing like maniacs.
“What about you?” my father asked.
“I’ll be right behind you,” I said. Which wasn’t exactly a lie. Once he left the ship, I’d be right behind him.
“Good work, son number nine,” he said.
He’d forgotten my name again? Jeez. He hugged me again, then pulled on the chute. In seconds he was over the edge. A royal “Wheeee!” soon followed.
“You can’t escape me,” Betsy called from above. “I’ll just sail to the island next.” She threw back her head and laughed. “I’m just going to watch your ship go down first.”
I waited for my brain to come up with a plan.
And waited.
Speed it up, brain!
A cannonball ripped through the remaining sail. Cindy groaned. She was on her last legs. Well, ships don’t have legs, but you know what I mean.
Still nothing came. No big idea.
Maybe Dad was right. I wasn’t so smart. He could put that on my gravestone. Conn. At Least He Had His Father’s Looks.
The ship started to fall apart. Along with the last of my self-worth.
Chapter Fourteen
But then it hit me.
Well, actually, a rope hit me. It was one of the moorings that had snapped. It slapped me in the face.
And I got an idea.
I climbed to the top of the crow’s nest and then onto the bladder full of hydrogen. One big flaming ball of fire in waiting. Working quickly, I cut the ropes holding the balloon to Cindy. I always kept a sharp knife on me.
My dear Cindy fell out of the sky with a sigh and several crunching sounds. The monkeys dived after her, perhaps hoping to get one last shot in.
Speaking of shots, without that weight dragging us down, the balloon and I shot up at great speed.
Directly toward Betsy and her stupid swan boat. But it began winging out of the way, and I missed her by a few inches, bumping one edge. “Ha! Missed!” she shouted.
I jumped off the balloon, landed on her ship and drew my blade.
Well, I tried to, but I discovered I had none. But Betsy had her sword and was prepared to use it. Soon I was dancing back and forth on the small boat, ducking and hopping as my cousin did her best to murder me.
I am small. And fast. I dodged and ducked until she stuck the sword into the wooden mast.
“Betsy, stop,” I said. “Your plan is finished.”
“No!” she shouted and pulled the sword out. She jabbed at me. She missed. I used my quick smarts to come up with a plan. A crazy plan.
I dove over her.
She tried to poke a hole in me, but I twisted in midair, and her blade missed.
And went right into Swandiver’s balloon.
You know. The balloon that was keeping us afloat. Hydrogen gas came screaming out, and the ship zigged and zagged, then rocketed up and down. Betsy fell down and bumped her crown.
Hard enough to knock her out.
I managed to cover the hole in the balloon with my hand and guide Swandiver to the island where all the crew had landed.
Well, not quite to the island. We were about twenty yards short when the ship crashed in the water. I had to drag Betsy to the shore.
My father, Bonnie and my crew helped us once we got out of the water.
The monkeys were gone.
“You did good, son,” my father said. “I’m proud of you.”
“And so be I,” Bonnie said.
I beamed.
Chapter Fifteen
The royal transport ship Eve arrived a few hours later, and we were rowed out to her. She was a seafaring vessel, but I didn’t hold that against her. Soon we were back at the palace and standing in the partly destroyed throne room. Workers were already patching up the hole caused by the explosions. My siblings were released from the prison downstairs, and they marched up to see us all.
Reg, the eldest, was first. He gave me a smack on the back that nearly broke my spine. But it was his way of saying, “Good job, bro.” They had been told on their way upstairs the story of Dad’s rescue. Bartha limped in after Reg and managed to give me a similar smack on the back despite her gut wound. Then Amber and Morgana followed, each winding up and laughing as they slapped my back. I’d have four handprints on my back for the rest of my life.
But it felt good. They were proud of me.
The last to come out was Bob, the librarian. He had his nose in a book and paused only to look me in the eye through his glasses and say, “Epic good work, Conn.”
That was a victory all its own. Bob never took his eyes away from a page.
My mom didn’t apologize for attacking me. But she did give me a hug and say it was a great escape. That’s as close as she comes to apologies.
“Well,” I said, about to launch into a speech about how I had won the day.
“Food’s here!” Bartha said. And next thing I knew, servers were bringing in smoked turkey, ham, bacon, pork rinds and a tiny plate of fruit.
“Good speech,” Dad said. “Keep it short, I always say.”
“Thanks,” I said. “What’s going to happen to Betsy?”
“I have a nice prison cell for her. But she’s family, so I won’t let her rot. Instead, Bob’s going to read books about kindness and politeness to her. It’ll drive her crazy. But maybe she’ll learn something. And once she does straighten herself out, she’ll be free. I am really impressed by her long-term planning. She would make a great general.”
I wasn’t so certain about the idea of her being in the skies with an armed ship again, but I held my tongue.
“Better grab some grub before it’s all gone, son,” Dad said.
We ate. We drank. And we managed to avoid the fruit tray.
After we finished saying all our goodbyes, I stood nervously on the bamboo dock, watching for my crew. For my ride.
Finally she rose up. Cindy 2. She was bigger, broader, had better guns. But that same old Cindy feel.
My father’s gift to me.
I stepped on board.
“You be welcome, Captain,” Bonnie Brightears said. “Where would you like to go?”
“Let’s see where the wind takes us. Sails up!”
“Sails up!” Bonnie repeated.
And we flew.
“Wheeee,” I said under my breath.
Arthur Slade is a Governor General’s Literary Award–winning author of many novels for young readers, including the graphic novel Modo: Ember’s End, which is based on characters from The Hunchback Assignments trilogy. Raised on a ranch in the Cypress Hills of Saskatchewan, Arthur now makes his home in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. For more information, visit arthurslade.com.
chapter one
“What’s going on?” My cousin Nick had to yell to be heard above the noise in the underpass leading to the zoo entrance.
I shook my head. “I don’t know.” We were on our way to visit our friend Robyn, who was volunteering at the zoo. The underpass was an echoing concrete chamber, so any noise seemed loud. But this rhythmic roar grew louder with each step we took. I began to run. As I burst into the sunshine at the exit, I found myself surrounded by a mob of people. Most of them carried signs, and all of them were shouting.
“What the heck…?” Nick scrambled to stay next to me as a pretty teenage girl with a placard that read Protect Wildlife elbowed him in the chest.
“Stop killing our animals!” she screamed into the crowd.
“Stop…! Stop…! STOP…!”
the mob chanted.
I edged between knots of people as I tried to get to the zoo entrance. Before I could reach the gate, an older woman stood on a rock and waved her hands above the crowd. Her gray hair was braided in a single rope down her back, almost to her waist. Glasses perched on her long nose, and she wore a T-shirt and outdated jeans.
Gradually the chanting died away. The gray-haired woman spoke.
“We’ve come today to give our voice to creatures with no voices to be heard. The bear killed yesterday is an example of how the protection of our wildlife and its environment must be a top priority. Society encroaches more and more on the natural habitat of all our creatures. The politicians must listen!”
The crowd roared its approval.
“What bear?” Nick hollered in my ear. “Trevor, what’s she talking about?”
The teenage girl who had elbowed him turned around. “A bear was shot illegally in the backcountry yesterday. The government needs to know this isn’t acceptable. We need to protect wild animals better.”
“But why protest at the zoo?” I asked. I struggled against the swaying mob that shoved me within inches of the girl. “Why don’t you go to city hall or something?”
The girl shrugged. “My grandmother—that’s her up on the rock—knows what she’s doing. She said people who go to the zoo care about animals. She’s done this for years.”
“Done what?” Nick said.
“Protest for animal rights.” The girl turned away as a new commotion erupted. A guy with a shaved head and a goatee thrust his tattooed arm up.
“Free the bears!” he bellowed. “Cages are no way for an animal to live.”
“Let them live free!” echoed his buddy, a skinny dude with stringy hair and a full beard.
“Rush the gate!” A third guy in a ripped T-shirt dashed toward the zoo entrance.
My jaw dropped in horror as I watched the three guys sprint through the gate. “They’re going to the bear enclosure!” I yelled in Nick’s ear. “Come on, we have to stop them!”
I dragged Nick behind me as the throng of people, ignoring the protests of the staff, jammed past the gates. Robyn was waiting for us inside the gate. As soon as she saw us, she burst out of the crowd, her freckled face wearing a look of shock.