Mearsies Heili Bounces Back (32 page)

“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 giving 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.”

Operation Rescue was about to begin.

“Here’s my idea,” Puddlenose said. “We take three or four of
the bigger sailors, capture Fudalklaeb, and force Kwenz to give up Clair in
trade.”

“Sounds good,” Captain Heraford said. “And I know at least
half my crew would volunteer for some king-napping. But would Kwenz really do
that?”

Puddlenose grimaced.

“We’d have their entire army after us,” I said. “Let me go
in. Like we used to, when we had to sneak into the Squashed Wedding Cake.”

“I’ll go with her,” Robin said.

“Me too,” Puddlenose said.

“I don’t feel right, yet,” Lina admitted. “And even if I did
go, my white hair tends to draw attention.”

Captain Heraford turned to me. “While you run your rescue,
Cherene, I think I’m going to spy around the islands. Maybe there’s a patrol
out there somewhere.”

Fradrici said, “Bet you they’re spread too thin.”

The captain agreed, looking out over the water at the coast
of Elchnudaeb. “Those transports we slowed up, those must be the occupation
forces. Well, I hope our allies kept slowing them up.”

So the captain sent us ashore with one of the small
single-sailed boats. We blended into the boat traffic in their main harbor,
which looked pretty much like harbors anywhere. Including the Torns.

The sailor the captain had sent stayed with the boat, and
the three of us kids set out to explore. The sailor would keep in contact with
the captain, while we did our job.

Robin was around thirteen, a plain girl once from Earth,
like me. Her last name was Hood, so she’d been given a joke name. Her sister’s
name was Briar. The girls’ parents had had a million marriages and divorces and
the girls were bounced around because nobody wanted them. Clair found them on
one of her wanders, but Robin settled with Lina because she loved being by the
sea.

Robin was sober, kind, loved helping the kids who came
through the Torns. She loved learning languages from them.

They spoke a kind of Mearsiean in Elchnudaeb. They called it
something else, and some of it sounded a bit different, but we could understand
it, as we walked up past all the warehouses and trade buildings to the proper
part of town.

“Where should we get disguises?” Robin asked me, after
looking around like there were spies behind every brick wall.

I didn’t want to say
Don’t do that!
I didn’t know
Robin all that well. I thought,
If I act cheerful, she’ll stop acting like a
spy on a life-and-death mission.

“Oh, we’ll find ’em. Remember, we’ve crunched the Auknuges
before.”

“Crunched?”

Now we’d reached a main street. It seemed to be built kind
of like a chain—that is, it connected a bunch of broad squares, with buildings
(mostly shops) on all sides, and fountains in the middle. There was a lot of
traffic. I noticed that fancily dressed people occasionally appeared, most from
a certain direction.

As I headed us that way (Robin walking with her head down,
so her short hair mostly hid her face) I said, “Crunched means splatted ...
floobed ... had a run-in with, and we mostly won.”

Robin laughed a little, then bent forward again. “Crunched!
I met a cook’s apprentice off a trader once who said ‘crunched’ to mean really
good food. She was from the very east end of the whole big continent. She said
their food is mostly crunchy, so if something has a snap to it, they say
crunchy for good.”

“Hey, I’ve heard that!” Puddlenose said.

I was only half-listening. Was that a spire ahead?

Robin forgot to watch her toes. “But I found out in Colend
they never ever eat crunchy foods, except in private. Isn’t that a funny thing?
You can only make noise when you eat with your family, or your friends. Then
somebody said that ‘crunch’ to the Chwahir means being stoned to death. Isn’t
that awful?”

“It’s true,” Puddlenose said.

“Everything I’ve ever heard about the Chwahir is awful,” I
said, as we rounded the corner of a big building and yes, there were spires
ahead.

Robin chattered about slang in different languages, and how
much you can learn about people just by knowing what their words mean. I
listened with half of my attention. I wasn’t bored—but I kept thinking,
Let
me find that out myself
. I knew it wasn’t fair. But I felt a little like I
was in school, while we were supposed to be looking for a way to rescue the
missing girls.

Puddlenose started in with stories from his travels, and how
he’d managed to get himself into trouble by thinking something meant one thing
but it really meant something else.

Robin laughed a couple times, a nervous sort of giggle, and
I finally thought,
CJ, you squidbrain, she’s scared!

Well, so was I—though not as much as I had been—but we sure
behaved differently when scared.

Anyway, the city was mostly brick, with pale slate also used.
It was a cheerful looking city, busy, and the palace actually wasn’t as full of
weird decorations as the Squashed Wedding Cake had been. The spires had a lot
of fancy, curlicue ironwork around each, but no festoons, and no statues of
Fobo and PJ. The palace was plastered a cream color, and the shutters to the
millions of windows were painted a kind of gold, so the effect was, well, I
hate to say it, but it was pretty.