Ghost Ship

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Ghost Ship Page 1

by Kim Wilkins




  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2006 by Kim Wilkins

  Illustrations copyright © 2006 by D. M. Cornish

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York. Originally published in Australia by Omnibus Books, an imprint of Scholastic Australia Pty. Ltd., Gosford, in 2006.

  Random House and colophon are registered trademarks of

  Random House, Inc.

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  www.randomhouse.com/kids

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Wilkins, Kim.

  Ghost ship / by Kim Wilkins ; illustrated by D. M. Cornish. — 1st ed.

  p. cm. — (The sunken kingdom ; bk. 1)

  Summary: After their parents, the rulers of the Star Lands, are deposed and their kingdom flooded, Asa and Rollo hide out until they come into possession of a ghost ship and magic powers, which they use to find the baby sister they thought had died with their parents.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-77188-9

  [1. Brothers and sisters—Fiction. 2. Fantasy.] I. Cornish, D. M.

  (David M.), ill. II. Title.

  PZ7.W64867Gh 2008

  [Fic]—dc22 2007027729

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  v3.1

  For Luka

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  1 An Unexpected Visitor

  2 Egil Cripplehand’s Tale

  3 Aboard Northseeker

  4 The Sea Hag

  5 Wings of a Raven, Breath of a Fish

  6 The Tower of the Witch Princess

  7 Return to Two Hills Keep

  About the Author

  About the Illustrator

  CHAPTER I

  AN UNEXPECTED

  VISITOR

  “Asa! Sky patrol!”

  Asa’s heart jumped. She leapt to her feet and glanced up the muddy slope at her younger brother, Rollo, who waved madly and pointed at the sky.

  “I’m coming!” she yelled, pocketing in her damp skirt the colored stones she had been collecting. She sped away from the mud, up the slope, and onto the grass. A gull swooped overhead, and the heavy saltsmell of the sea stuck to her clothes. Breathless, she grabbed Rollo’s hand and kept running.

  “Up there!” he said, and now Asa could see it on the horizon. A black shape against the pale morning sky: one of Emperor Flood’s fleet of balloons. They patrolled the skies, looking for traitors, searching out supporters of the deposed royal family. Especially the two remaining children of the royal family: Asa and Rollo.

  They hurried up the hill, the grass scratchy under their bare feet.

  “It’s coming too fast,” Asa said. “We’ll never make it back to Two Hills Keep.”

  “The cave, then,” Rollo said.

  The cave. How she hated it. It smelled like fish and seaweed, and reminded her of the night Emperor Flood’s evil magic had swollen the sea, sinking her parents’ kingdom, the Star Lands. That awful night, she and Rollo had hidden in the cave for hours. When they emerged, their parents—King Sigurd and the Star Queen—were dead, along with their baby sister, Una. The cave had once been their favorite place to play, high up in a cliff overlooking the Great Sea, hidden under the branches of a huge sea willow. Now the water lapped at its entrance, and the branches of the sea willow soaked their drooping tips at high tide.

  Asa didn’t want to go back to the cave. But the black shape loomed closer. She could hear the hiss of the balloon approaching.

  “All right,” she said, squeezing Rollo’s hand. “The cave.”

  They changed direction, scrambling across the slope and down, and the sea willow came into view, its long silvery branches catching the early-morning light.

  “Hurry,” she said, pushing Rollo ahead. He scurried farther down the slope, over rocks and loose ground. Asa’s blood pounded. She risked a look back. The black half-moon of the balloon’s top was rising behind the slope. She slid on the loose ground, caught herself on a rock. A hot pain. The jagged edge of the rock had split open her palm. She clutched it with her other hand and blood oozed between her fingers. Nursing the injury against her chest, she found her way to the cave.

  “Asa, you’re bleeding,” Rollo said as she landed next to him.

  She tore a strip off the bottom of her skirt and wrapped her palm in it. Wincing, she tied the knot with her teeth. But this was no time for tears or complaining. “Hush, now,” she said, catching her breath. “Quiet and still.”

  For a few long moments, all she could hear was their ragged breathing, the pull of the sea, the distant cries of gulls. But then, the familiar hiss as the balloon filled with hot air.

  Sssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

  The sound of giant, evil lungs drawing sickly breath.

  Asa and Rollo pressed themselves against the back wall of the cave. Asa’s heartbeat was loud in her ears.

  Sssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

  It was coming closer. She drew up her feet so her knees were right against her chest. Rollo pressed his face into her side and his fair hair fell forward. She slid her arm around him, her eyes wide and watching the entrance.

  A black shape descended behind the twisted branches of the sea willow. It was the bottom edge of the spy-seat: the square basket that hung from the balloon. She knew that Flood’s spies would be sitting in the spy-seat, with their compasses and brass telescopes and gleaming knives. The balloon only had to descend another two feet and the spies would be staring straight into the cave. She pushed herself against the cave wall, but couldn’t shrink back any farther. Her heart thundered in her ears. “Please, please,” she whispered, over and over, silently. Rollo pressed himself against her harder, his hot little hand clutching her injured palm. Sweat made the wound sting.

  The basket lifted again and disappeared from sight.

  Sssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

  Up it went. Asa breathed. Rollo lifted his head. She put her finger to her lips to remind him to stay quiet a little longer.

  Then the hissing began once more. The balloon was withdrawing, taking off over the sunken kingdom, searching elsewhere for traitors and royalists.

  Rollo smiled. “It’s gone.”

  “Let’s get home,” Asa said, standing on shaky legs.

  “I wasn’t really afraid,” Rollo said with a grin.

  “Yes, you were.”

  “No, I wasn’t.”

  They emerged into the pale morning light and Asa led the way home.

  Asa and Rollo lived with their aunt Katla at Two Hills Keep. Although the Keep looked like a tiny cottage built of mud and grass, it was actually far larger and concealed an underground maze of secret rooms. The King and Queen had it built when Asa was born, just in case their children were ever in danger and needed to hide. It came into view above the rise. Wildflowers grew over the grassy walls and a drooping tree disguised it almost entirely. In the year since Emperor Flood had killed their family and taken over the land, he had never managed to find them here.

  “Who’s that?” Rollo said, pointing across the field.

  Asa noticed it at the same time: an old man with his left arm pinned to his chest paced near the front entrance of the Keep.

  “I don’t know,” she said warily, slowing her pace.

&n
bsp; Rollo pulled up. “What if he’s a spy?”

  Asa didn’t know what to do. She had never seen the strange man before, but he looked like he was waiting for them.

  At that moment, Katla emerged and spotted them. She beckoned anxiously. “Come quickly, children,” she called. “You have a special visitor.”

  The children hurried over as the old man turned to watch them. Asa didn’t like his steely eyes, his hooked nose, or the cruel set of his mouth. Something about him made her skin prickle. A cool gust of morning air shivered over her. The wound on her hand had begun to throb lightly.

  “Asa, Rollo,” Katla said stiffly, “I want you to meet Egil Cripplehand.” Katla glanced at him nervously, then back to the children. “He has news of your sister.”

  “Una?” Rollo said, puzzled.

  The stranger fixed him with a stony gaze. “She’s alive,” he said. “Your sister is alive.”

  CHAPTER 2

  EGIL CRIPPLEHAND’S

  TALE

  Egil Cripplehand wouldn’t say another word until they were safely in the Keep, and Rollo was so curious he thought he would burst. Katla led them inside, past all the old wooden furniture and dried fish hung in rows. Rollo’s pencil drawings from last night were still spread out on the table, and the smoky scent of the fire was strong in the room. Asa helped Katla move the table and roll up the rug under it—to reveal the trapdoor to the Keep itself. They inched down the narrow staircase and found a place in the corner stateroom, where all of King Sigurd’s books were stored. Egil sat on the shelving stool. By the light of a flickering candle, the children settled on the chairs next to him, puzzled and hopeful.

  Katla bustled in and out, clucking anxiously about the cut on Asa’s palm. Worry was etched on her usually smiling round face.

  Egil took his time, staring for long seconds—first at Asa, then Rollo. Not even the hint of a smile touched his thin lips, and Rollo had to admit he was frightened of the old man.

  “I have searched for you children for nearly a year,” he said at last. The candlelight made eerie, shifting shadows on his craggy face. “I was sent by your parents, when they were on their way to … their fate.”

  Rollo felt Asa stiffen next to him. Egil was talking about the night his mother and father were murdered.

  “You spoke to them?” Asa said.

  Egil nodded once, deeply. “I did.”

  “What did they say?” Rollo asked.

  “I can tell you this: their last thoughts were of you and your sister.”

  “So Una wasn’t with them?” Asa asked. “When they were killed?”

  “No. At the last moment, the witch princess Margritt, Flood’s half sister who despises him, stole the little babe and took her to her castle in the north.”

  “Is she well?” Rollo asked. “Can we see her?” He remembered Una’s tiny, soft fingers and her sweet, gummy smile. He loved his baby sister so much and thought of her every night when he went to sleep. In his dreams he saw them all—his mother, his father, and Una—as though the flood had never come and his happiness had never been washed away with the mighty tide.

  “Silence, child,” Egil said sternly. “Listen to the whole tale. It will all become clear.

  “I was working as a jailer when Flood first brought your parents in. I suppose Flood thought that a creature like me, so used to living underground at the dungeons in the company of thieves and traitors, would have a heart as black as his own. But he was wrong. King Sigurd was kind to my mother when I was just a babe. Her own family had thrown her out, and we would have starved without his generosity. I grew up believing I owed my life to King Sigurd, and no matter how many gold pieces Flood gave me, my loyalty could not be bought.

  “The night before the King and Queen’s execution, I slipped into their cell to promise them a final wish. Alas, I could not set them free. After Una’s disappearance, Flood’s spies were thick near the entrance to the dungeons. So King Sigurd, your father, charged me to seek you out, to tell you about Una, and to give you all you need to find her.”

  “Find her?” said Rollo. “We have to find her?”

  “Now listen,” Egil said. “And no more interruptions. You know that Flood was once your father’s court sorcerer, but did you know there was another? A secret sorcerer named Ragni, whom your father trusted and loved well.”

  Asa and Rollo exchanged curious glances. They thought they knew everyone who had lived at the Sea Palace before the flood.

  “No, I’ve never heard of him,” Rollo said.

  Egil nodded, his grim face set hard. “Ragni suspected Flood of mischief, and he put into place some insurance. In case the worst happened—and, as we all know, it did. Do you remember the night of the masked ball?”

  Rollo nodded, remembering the great hall of the Sea Palace decorated with shimmering gold and red ribbons. That night, the dukes and duchesses from every principality had come in their fine costumes. Music had echoed around the dark wooden beams and the fires had glowed hot. The magic tricks were marvelous and the ice cream so creamy and sweet that he’d eaten too much. It was the last party before the flood.

  “Then you’d remember the magic tricks of the jester? The tall man in blue and gold?”

  “The one with the doves?” Asa said, wincing as Katla cleaned her wound with stinging squid-balm. “He was wonderful. The way he made himself disappear behind that silver cloth!”

  “Do you remember that, before he disappeared, he cast upon you three children a cloud of golden dust?”

  The children nodded, and Asa said, “The dust stayed in my hair for two days. I couldn’t brush it out.”

  “That magician was Ragni,” Egil said. “The dust was enchanted.”

  “What do you mean?” Rollo said, growing excited. “He enchanted us?”

  Egil paused for a moment, scratching under his chin. The sound of his fingernails rubbing his beard stubble was loud in the expectant silence.

  “Yes,” he said at last. “Ragni gave you magic powers.”

  Asa gasped. Katla dropped the squid-balm and the jar rattled on the cold flagstones.

  “What kind of magic powers?” Rollo spluttered.

  Egil pointed a bony finger at Asa. “You can change into a raven at will. You only have to close your eyes and say, ‘Wings of a raven upon me.’ ”

  Now he pointed at Rollo, who almost couldn’t take a breath, he was so excited.

  “You can breathe underwater,” Egil said. “Close your eyes and say, ‘Breath of a fish within me,’ and you’ll never drown.”

  Breathe underwater? Unbelievable! Impossible! Wonderful!

  “And Una, when she’s old enough to speak,” Egil continued, “will be able to understand any language, whether it’s the language of men or birds or sea giants.”

  Rollo’s heart was bursting. He turned to Asa and saw the gleam in her eyes.

  “Can I do it?” she asked. “Can I change into a raven now?”

  Egil’s eyebrows drew down fiercely and his eyes almost disappeared under hooded lids. “No. This isn’t a game. Use your enchantments only when you absolutely must.”

  Rollo felt his heart droop. “Why?”

  “Because the transformations will make you ill and exhausted. Use them only as a last resort.” To Rollo’s surprise, Egil got to his feet and straightened his back. “There’s one more thing, children. A special present your father charged me with the responsibility of bringing to you.”

  Rollo scrambled to his feet.

  Her hand freshly bandaged, Asa was wary. “What present?”

  “Come on. It’s down at the inlet.”

  The two of them looked to Katla and she nodded. “It’s all right, children. Follow him.”

  They returned through the cottage and then down the steep path from Two Hills Keep to the inlet that ran out to the Great Sea. Mist clung to the banks; the early sun hadn’t fallen into the valley yet. Katla hung back, under the shade of a water oak. Egil took the children all the way to the edge of th
e inlet so that they stood on the thin strip of gray sand.

  “Do you see it?” he said.

  “See what?” said Rollo, peering into the mist.

  Egil offered his hand. Rollo took it reluctantly: the old man’s fingers were rough and papery. Egil led him a little way up the beach and pointed directly in front of them, where the mist was thickest.

  “Can you see it now?” he asked.

  “No,” Rollo said.

  “Good,” said Egil, and he smiled mysteriously. He pulled Rollo’s hand. “Now take a step.”

  “A step?” Rollo glanced from Egil’s crooked face to the misty water below. “Into the water?”

  “What have you to fear? You cannot drown.”

  “But—”

  “Step into the mist,” Egil said, pulling harder on his hand. “It’s what King Sigurd wanted.”

  The boy swallowed. Thinking of his father made him brave and he took a step, expecting his foot to hit the water. Instead, it landed on something solid. He looked down and realized he was standing on a gangplank. Another step into the mist and in front of him, where there’d been nothing before, was a sleek longship.

  “How—?”

  Egil smiled. “Welcome aboard Northseeker.”

  CHAPTER 3

  ABOARD

  NORTHSEEKER

  “Rollo!” cried Asa. One minute, Rollo held Egil’s hand at the edge of the inlet; the next, he had disappeared into the mist.

  “Where is he?” she demanded, running to the spot where he had been.

  Egil caught her. “It’s all right, Asa.”

  She wrenched herself away from his spidery fingers. “Get your hands off me! Where is my brother?”

  “I see you’re as spirited as your mother,” Egil said, and for the first time he smiled warmly. “Go on, get on board.” He shoved her in the direction of the misty water. She cried out, but then her foot struck the gangplank and a longship appeared in front of her. She gasped.

  Rollo waited at the top of the gangplank. “Come on, Asa. You have to see this!”

 

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