Ellen Under The Stairs (21 page)

Platinia had been sure that, when she
had pointed out this Ellen to the old Mage, Pfnaravin, he would
take revenge on John-Lyon by killing Ellen. But the old Mage had
not done that. Instead, he had left Xanthin, taking the woman with
him. Now, the young Mage was building a boat to chase after
Pfnaravin, and to take the woman back.

There was nothing Platinia could do to
stop John-Lyon from going in his boat. She had thought and thought
and thought about how to do that, but could not think of a way to
stop the boat. Since she could not keep the Mage from going after
the woman, the best Platinia could think to do was to go in the
boat herself, to be with the Mage all the time. That way, if
John-Lyon took the woman away from Pfnaravin, Platinia would be
there to think of some way to get rid of her.

So, when Platinia heard the boat had
been tested in the harbor, and that Admiral Coluth would soon go
with John-Lyon and two sailors, but that was all, she had slipped
out of the palace at night, the first gate-guard asleep, the second
muttering to himself about something so that Platinia could slip
his gate-key out of his tunic pouch, use it, then return the key.
The third gate-guard was gone, probably to the Palace to be
friendly to one of the young drudges.

Walking to the harbor in the fog of
down-light was ... terrible! she was so wet and shivering with cold
and from fear that the dreadful night creatures would eat her (for
she had seen them when with the Mage in Azare.)

Arriving so late there were few people
there to see her, Platinia hard to see anyway since she was buried
to her head in fog. Unnoticed, she squeezed under the giant screen,
to find the new boat tied to the dock on the other side.

Quietly, she had gotten on the boat
and, looking around, had found a large coil of rope at the boat's
center, the rope wound around a space large enough for little
Platinia to hide in.

That was several up-lights
ago.

Hearing that it was today the
Mage-boat would set out from the harbor, she had slipped through
the gates when other people were going through, in that way getting
to the boat, hiding before up-light inside the tiny, rope-coil
space.

From there, she had heard the Mage and
the sailors and Admiral Coluth step from the dock onto the
boat.

She had heard old Deninia grumble, and
smelled the fire stones Deninia had heated up, after that, felt the
boat bounce up as Deninia stepped back to the wharf.

Platinia also began to feel the heat
of the fire stones at the center of the boat and at the back,
Platinia's hiding place near the center.

She had heard the tie-up ropes pulled
in.

After that came a coughing sound, the
boat lurching forward, Mage-Magic driving it.

She could even tell when the boat was
beyond the harbor mouth, because the sea outside was not as gentle
as the sea inside the harbor.

It was then that the heat from the
Mage-Magic at the center of the boat had gotten so strong that she
could not hide in that tiny space any longer.

"Hey," yelled the sailor, Tangu,
surprised to see her come out.

At that, the Mage came running from
his place at the back of the little boat, his white silk Mage robe
flapping.

"Platinia! How did you get
here?"

"I beg forgiveness," she said, falling
to her knees, banging her forehead into the ... deck. At least that
is what she thought the wood "cover" over the bottom of the boat
was called. She did not know much about boats.

"You were supposed to stay in the
Palace."

"I could not," was all she could think
of to say.

When she looked up, Admiral Coluth was
there, also coming from his place at the back of the boat, the
Admiral in his naval uniform.

Platinia could see this because
up-light had come, the sky over Stil-de-grain turned gold, the sea
around them gold as well.

"How did you get out of the
Palace?"

"Through the gates." It was all she
could think of to say. Anyway, it was the truth.

"We've got to do something about
security in the Palace, Coluth," the Mage said, turning to the
Admiral. "Apparently people can come and go at their
pleasure."

The Admiral nodded.

"We've got a stowaway, as you can
see."

"Stowaway?"

Platinia was glad that someone else
could not understand the Mage's words. That it was not just her.
She knew she did not know much about the world, locked away as she
had been in temple Fulgur. But Admiral Coluth had been ...
everywhere ... and he did not understand the Mage, either. Platinia
was glad of that.

"Stowaway means someone who is not
supposed to be on the boat but is in hiding, coming out after the
boat sails."

"Yes," Coluth said, understanding at
last, as did Platinia. She was the ... stowaway ... the Mage meant.
"Too late to go back and put her ashore."

Now was the time the Mage would either
punish her -- perhaps wither her with a Mage-bolt, so she would
die. Or else he would let her stay on the boat. He might throw her
in the water, but Platinia did not think he would do
that.

"Fortunately, she doesn't weigh much,
and also doesn't take up much space." John-Lyon turned to speak to
her. "You realize that I forbid you to come for your own
protection, don't you? This is risky business."

Risky business? Another thing the Mage
said that she did not understand.

"But there's nothing we can do about
that now. We can't go back. That would be even more dodgy that to
go on."

Dodgy. Another Mage-word.

So -- she was to be allowed to
stay!

"Thank you for making me so happy,
great Mage!" Still kneeling, she put her head on the ... deck ...
again, to show her thank you.

"I can only hope you'll still be glad
by the end of the journey," the Mage said in his dust dry voice,
shaking his head. "You've put your neck in the noose, like the rest
of us."

Neck in a noose??

"For now, try to keep out of the way,
not that there are that many people to keep clear of."

"Again, thank you."

"All right."

And suddenly, Platinia felt herself
leave the Mage's thoughts, his mind returning to how the boat was
going, and to looking over the back of the boat again, to see if
anyone was following them.

The two men walked away to stand
behind the sailor, Philelph, the sailor in his seaman jacket.
Philelph steering.

Platinia did not know much about
boats, but did know that something was wrong with the way the boat
was going. For it was not floating in great circles like other
boats, but moving straight through the center of a
circle!

Magic. The magic of the Mage, magic
helped by the sailor at the center of the boat who was looking,
with worry, at the hot fire stones and at a metal container, the
container getting fatter and thinner, fatter and thinning, all the
while making sounds, like the sounds of blood in your ears when
your heart pumped. Like when you were afraid. Beat, beat, beat.
Fast. But steadier than when your blood was pounding.

Did the boat have a heart? Was the
boat afraid? Platinia did not know.

Though Platinia did not understand,
she guessed that this metal pot was the heart of the boat, beating,
beating. And that the two pipes running along the bottom of the
boat were carrying the boat's blood.

She had been ordered to stay out of
the way; the single thing she did best. Stay out of the
way.

She had not been ordered to stay far
enough away so she could not see and hear!

So it was that, on tiny feet, she
sneaked to the back of the boat, standing out of the way, but near
enough to listen to John-Lyon and the Admiral talk. Also to see
that the pipes coming down the boat from the "heart" were under
water at the back, streams of water shot out behind the boat, but
under the water. This was what made the boat go forward, Platinia
thought, though she did not know how this could be.

The Mage and Coluth were
talking.

"Do you think we got out of the harbor
without picking up a tail?"

"Tail?"

"Having someone see us. Maybe we got
away. That no one will be following us. That's the best chance
we've got, I'm afraid."

"Agreed."

For a time, as the last of the
up-light mist lifted from the surface of the sea, they stood at the
back rim of the boat, looking behind the way the boat was
going.

"No." It was the Admiral, speaking in
his sand-paper voice. (Platinia had seen a man use what was called
sandpaper, at the Palace. To fix wood.)

The Admiral was also cupping his hand
to his eyes, the better to see. Platinia had often seen him do
that.

"You see something?"

"I think so."

"Chasing us?"

"That would be my guess."

"I think ... I can see it now. It's a
ship, only a dot. Wait! Two, three ships!

"That is my count."

"But they're doing what we knew they
would, going the long way, circling off to the right, to come
around the rim, and transfer to the next whirlpool."

"That is the way."

"Can you tell if they'll catch
us?"

"Too far away."

"Not today, surely."

"Or tomorrow. They are too far
back."

"At least that's something," the Mage
said, but not in a happy way, the Mage sad because of his belief
that the boats following would catch them.

Suddenly, a movement to the other side
of the boat!

Golden!

John-Lyon saying he could bring only
Coluth and two sailors -- Platinia heard him say that -- he had
also brought Golden.

Truly, there was no understanding
Mages!

* * * * *

And the run for Realgar was on in
earnest, a race John had to win; not that he had much time to worry
about it at the outset. For in spite of all the planning he'd done
on the little ship, John's first task was to modify the boat's
design.

He'd already had his ship builders
install elevated metal plates to keep the fire stones off the wood
deck of the boat, both for the stones beneath the engine's boiler
and those meant to propel his steam-cannon. (Other than the engine,
there was no time to construct a super structure, the boat as flat
as something a child would carve out of a shingle -- hand rails all
around for safety.)

If he'd had more time to work out
every detail, he might have remembered that one of the weaknesses
of the old Stanley Steamer was having its engine under the hood,
the driver condemned to motor through boiler heated air.

Applied to the putt-putt boat, the
sailor manning the tiller stood between the boat's two heat sources
-- boiler ahead of him, the gun's fire stones behind
him.

It hadn't taken long -- Philelph
sweating and red faced -- for John to realize he must find a
solution to the temperature problem, the limited amount of material
they carried making a change of design difficult. For in addition
to string and hooks for fishing, a water bucket to keep the fish
fresh, and some metal pans for cooking on the fire stones, John had
brought along nothing but tools necessary for minor repairs:
hammer, nails, pry bar, and chisel.

Taking his cue from steam boat
captains on early America's rivers, who sometimes had to burn
wooden parts of their ships to build enough steam to buck
unexpectedly heavy currents, John instructed Coluth and Golden to
pry up deck boards, the men getting enough lumber to cobble
together wooden heat shields to nail in front and in back of the
steers man.

Other than producing unwanted heat --
though buffeted by steam pulses within and the bounce of the boat
as it bucked small waves -- the primitive engine held together. So
steadily did the engine run, to John's delight, that it took only
precautionary watching, freeing Tangu for tiller
rotation.

Plan A was to slip out of the harbor
unnoticed, that hope quickly going down the tubes.

Plan B was to outrun the Malachite
cruisers. And maybe that would work, though it was too early to
tell.

Plan C was -- Golden.

It was a late decision on John's part
to take Golden, John wishing to limit the boat's personnel. It was
just that John had gotten to thinking that, should the Realgar
ships catch them, Golden might be John's ace-in-the-hole. After
all, Golden said that some Malachites had recognized him as king,
making it possible that, learning their "king" was on board, the
Malachite sailors might change sides. It was something to try,
anyway.

A second reason for including Golden
was his ability to do what few people here could. While the light
allowed everyone to speak/understand all languages (even English),
Golden (in his guise as nighttime entertainer), had been forced to
learn several Band languages. Assuming John and company reached
Realgar, the natives would think that Golden was deaf to their
speech after down-light, possibly revealing secrets Golden could
relay to John, John knowing enough about Realgarites?? to use
caution when dealing with them. (Though it could be nothing but
prejudice, when the subject of Realgar came up, it seemed to
trigger talk of poison.)