Kestrel slipped on a Master Glove. He clenched his fist tightly, and as he did the three silver mechanical men did the same.
“Amazing,” Pryvyd said.
“One of the advantages of being stuck in a prison cell for months is that it gives you plenty of time to think,” Kestrel replied. “I came up with lots of clever ideas while I was in there.”
Kestrel removed the glove and placed it next to him.
“Let me be clear about this now,” Pryvyd said, picking up the glove. “You will not be the one to lead the new army of ubergearfolk.”
Kestrel was taken aback. “I constructed the machines,” he said. “No one would be better equipped to control them.”
“Then let’s hope you are as good a teacher as you are an engineer. Because I still don’t trust you. I will wear the armor.”
“And how will the right arms of the gearfolk be controlled?”
“Righteous will wear that piece of the armor,” Pryvyd answered.
Wily looked at Kestrel, waiting to see what his response would be.
“Fair enough,” Kestrel relented. “You will wear the Master Suit.”
The former Infernal King returned to the task at hand. “I figure with sixty-five of these soldiers,” Kestrel said, “we should be able to come out victorious even if Stalag has rebuilt every gearfolk and snagglecart I ever made.”
Kestrel slid a pair of metal legs across the table to Wily.
“This is for soldier number four,” Wily’s father said. “Only sixty or so to go.”
* * *
JUST LIKE DURING his time in Carrion Tomb, it was hard to tell how much time had passed while they were working. Wily was so focused on the task at hand that he didn’t even pay attention to his grumbling stomach. It could have been a few hours or a whole day. By the time there were sixty-five metal soldiers standing in formation, Wily was so tired he could barely stand.
“They’re beautiful,” Kestrel said, looking at the shining army. “We make quite a team.”
“Hopefully,” Pryvyd said, “this will be enough to defeat the magically enhanced gearfolk.”
“I don’t doubt it for a moment,” Kestrel said, giving his son a wink.
“I made this for you,” the gwarf’s daughter said as she approached Pryvyd and Righteous.
She held a new set of silver armor in her hands. There was a breast plate, leg pieces, an arm piece, and a gauntlet for Pryvyd. For Righteous, she held a silver arm piece and gauntlet.
“They lock together if you want to fight as one,” she said. “Or they snap apart if you want to be independent.”
“Thank you for this unexpected gift,” Pryvyd said. “Once I no longer need to wear the Master Suit, this will be my armor of choice.”
“And, of course, I have a shield and sword to match,” the gwarf daughter said, handing over one with an intricate design of the golden sun rising above Drakesmith Island. Righteous seemed quite pleased to get into armor made just for it and to grab the sword. The floating arm swung the sword to test its weight and balance.
“That looks just like the pattern on Pops,” Roveeka said, pulling out her knife.
The gwarf hustled over to peer down at the weapon in her hand.
“Where did you get this?” he asked Roveeka.
“It was left for me in my crib by my parents,” she said.
“I made these knives for my loyal assistants,” the gwarf said. “A lovely couple. Hard workers. They traveled to Panthasos to help the hobgoblets that were banished to Undertown. I believe they were captured before reaching their destination. They never returned.”
“Did they have a child?” Roveeka asked.
“Not when I knew them, but they were very much in love.”
“Maybe they were my parents…,” Roveeka said with a far-off look. “What were their names?”
“Roselle and Veekam.”
A big, crooked smile spread across Roveeka’s face. “Their names combine to make mine.”
“Let’s give this army a test run,” Kestrel said.
Pryvyd approached Kestrel, who was holding pieces of the Master Suit. Wily watched as Kestrel helped Pryvyd slide his arm into the metal sleeve and place the gauntlet on his fist. Once Pryvyd’s legs and chest were encased, Kestrel placed the helmet over the Golden Knight’s head. It was strange for Wily to watch these two very different father figures working together.
Pryvyd took a step forward, and as he did, all the eversteel gearfolk did the same. Pryvyd continued his walk toward the far side of the cavern. The metal men followed him in perfect unison.
“We’re ready,” Wily said.
The gwarf walked across the floor of the cavern to a long metal wall. He peered through a pair of holes cut into it.
“Before we open up the wall,” the gwarf said. “We need to make sure that there’s no one lurking about out there. This secret entrance must remain a secret.”
After a good long look, he pulled his face away from the holes in the wall.
“The coast is clear,” he said as he moved to a large lever. He pulled down on it and the entire wall began to slide. Moonlight flooded inside as the door exposed the jungle beyond.
“Quickly now,” he said. “I don’t want to keep it open longer than I have to.”
Pryvyd marched out of the cavern, leading the ubergearfolk into the night air. Wily, Roveeka, Moshul, Odette, and Kestrel walked alongside them. Righteous soared along above. Not a moment after they were all outside, the door began to close behind them. The gwarf’s daughter waved good-bye.
“Good luck,” she called out.
“When you are done with the mechanical men and the world is safe once again,” the father gwarf called out, “return them to me. I will put them back into the flames of the Eversteel Forge. Then they will never fall into the wrong hands.”
With that last statement, the door of the mountain was sealed shut. Wily could see that the exterior wall was made of stone to perfectly match the mountain face.
“Moshul, send out your fireflies,” Wily said to the moss golem, “to signal Jayrus’s and the Recluself’s return.”
Moshul raised his arms into the air. Out from the vegetation dozens of fireflies emerged, their abdomens twinkling in the darkness. A few of the glowing insects fluttered around the hugtopus, who beamed at them happily. After a beat, they flew out over the trees.
The group began its descent of the hillside toward the beach. Wily could see night creatures scurrying away from the strange, reflective machines passing by. “Wily.” Pryvyd had walked up beside him. “I just wanted to let you know that the only reason I’m so harsh on Kestrel is that I don’t want to see him hurt anyone. Especially you.”
“I understand,” Wily replied. “And I appreciate how much you care.”
Pryvyd put a gentle hand on Wily’s shoulder and gave him a pat. To their amusement, the sixty-five ubergearfolk behind them copied the very same motion, patting the air as if there were invisible shoulders there.
“And I guess I appreciate how much they care too,” Wily said, gesturing to the gearfolk.
The group slowed as they got closer to the ocean. Gentle waves lapped against the empty beach.
“They should have been here by now,” Kestrel said as he looked out at the Eversteel Sea.
“We only sent out the fireflies a short while ago,” Pryvyd said from behind the mask of the Master Suit. “I have faith they will be here.”
“Nothing we can do now but wait,” Wily said, scanning the horizon.
Everyone found spots in the sand. Wily was surprised by how comfortable the cold sand felt on his back and legs. Then again, hours of constant construction near a hot forge might make anyplace feel like an overstuffed bed.
* * *
“HURRY UP!” THE Recluself screamed.
Wily’s eyes snapped open. He must have fallen asleep without realizing it. He peered over to see Roveeka and Odette snoring. He wasn’t the only one who had been tired. Wily turned h
is attention to the cove. The Recluself’s ship was sailing right to shore.
“What are you doing?” Pryvyd shouted to the sailboat closing in on the beach. “You’ll run aground!”
“We don’t have time to shuttle you on the boat,” Jayrus called out as he lowered the ladder. “We’re being chased away from the island. We barely made it here.”
The oglodyte pointed past the mouth of the cove, where another ship was sailing.
“The locals of Drakesmith Island truly do not like visitors,” the Recluself said as the bow of the ship hit the sandy bottom with a loud thud. “They have swords and axes. I was scared of the waves knocking me over. Clearly, I was worried about the wrong thing.”
Wily, Odette, and Kestrel ran into the sea. Roveeka sat on Moshul’s shoulders as the moss golem took large strides that sent waves churning around him. Once the water was up to Wily’s waist, Wily started swimming. Reaching the ladder, he began climbing to the deck. Behind him, Pryvyd was leading the eversteel gearfolk into the brine.
“They won’t be able to climb fast enough,” Kestrel shouted.
“Moshul,” Odette called back. “Give them a lift.”
Moshul grabbed a handful of the mechanical men and tossed them onto the deck.
“Be careful with them,” Kestrel shouted.
“He’s doing the best he can under the circumstances,” Roveeka said from his shoulders.
Moshul tossed Pryvyd and the remaining gearfolk onto the deck and started to push the Recluself’s ship back out to sea.
Wily glanced toward the mouth of the cove. The Drakesmith patrol ship was making very fast time. If they had a chance at all, their escape would be very narrow indeed.
18
UNEXPECTED WHEELS
“Can we get past them?” Wily asked Jayrus, who was holding the wheel of the Recluself’s ship with his webbed fingers.
“Their boat is more agile than ours,” the Hammock oglodyte replied. “They’ve been chasing us all around the island. We barely got here without being broadsided. But I’ll give it my best try.”
They were on a collision course with the Drakesmith Island patrol ship. Each time Jayrus turned the wheel to change direction, so too did the opposing vessel. As if crashing weren’t bad enough, Wily could now see that the other ship had giant metal spikes protruding from the bow.
“We won’t let you leave the island without checking your boat for eversteel contraband,” the captain of the other ship shouted.
“If we have to go into battle,” Kestrel said as he pulled his sword out of his sheath, “we will do what we have to do to get back to Panthasos.”
“They’re not doing anything wrong,” Roveeka said to Kestrel and the others. “They just want to keep the world safe.”
“I agree,” Wily said.
“Don’t be shortsighted,” Kestrel countered. “Think of who we are protecting.”
“We’re not battling these sailors,” Wily said.
Jayrus turned the Recluself’s ship hard to the right. It was matched by the local guard boat.
“I don’t know what else to do,” the friendly oglodyte said.
Suddenly Roveeka was pointing wildly at the opposing ship.
“Look at the front!”
Wily’s vision was not quite as keen as his surrogate sister’s, but he could see an object crawling up the side of the ship. Wily looked harder. It was some kind of small creature with many arms. It was a hugtopus. He turned to Moshul and saw that the hugtopus was no longer on his leg.
“Your hugtopus is off,” Wily told the moss golem, who looked down with surprise. “And it is on the other boat.”
“It must have swum over there,” Odette said. “That’s a fast little gal.”
“What’s it doing?” Pryvyd said.
“It looks like it’s evonbenning,” Jayrus said with a toothy grin. “Evonbenning means ‘surprising those you care about with a helping hand—or eight.’”
Wily watched as the hugtopus slipped onto the deck. It lifted the giant anchor and hurled it into the water. The anchor dropped into the sea with a splash, leaving a trail of chain behind it.
“I think we just got the break we needed,” Odette chirped with excitement.
The Drakesmith guard ship was tugged to a halt by the anchor. The Recluself’s ship zipped right past it toward the sea. The gang watched as the warriors gave chase to the little hugtopus before it jumped back into the sea.
Moshul was looking over the railing, trying to spot it. Wily glanced over too but he wasn’t able to see the eight-armed creature anywhere in the water—because it was back on the deck with them.
“Wow,” Wily said. “Speedy indeed.”
Moshul reached out and grabbed the hugtopus, placed it up on his shoulder, and gave it a gentle pat.
“To the east,” Odette said, “all the way to Ratgull Harbor.”
Jayrus gave a salute and directed the ship away from Drakesmith Island. Wily turned back to take a final glance at the island that resembled a dragon. He thought about the forge that had built the gearfolk that now stood motionless on the ship, but he thought even more about the eversteel tree the gwarf had sculpted. It reminded him of the symbol he had chosen to represent the new Panthasos: metal gears interlocked with the branches of a tree. He would always strive to ensure nature and machines were working in tandem to make the world more beautiful and safer. If his mission to save Panthasos was successful, he would return to the island and ask the gwarf to mold another eversteel tree so it could be put in the palace garden as a reminder of his mission.
Soon Drakesmith disappeared from view in the night.
The ship that the Recluself had built was remarkably effective. Even still, it seemed as if the boat wasn’t moving fast enough. With each swell it rode over, Wily thought about what might be happening in Panthasos. If the images he had seen on the Isle of Delight were true, then Stalag had already taken over the royal palace with the help of the enchanted gearfolk and snagglecarts, and his mother and Valor had been taken captive to be held in the prisonaut.
Over the next night and day, the vessel sailed north of the calm waters of the Drecks, avoiding the windless patches that had proved so dangerous on their journey west. At one point, they passed a mysterious sailing ship drifting in circles under a perpetual thunderstorm. Odette got so excited when she saw it that she jumped onto the edge of the railing, nearly falling into the water.
“The Gale Ghost Ship,” Odette called to the others. “I’ve read stories of the treasures hidden in its hull. We should”—then Odette seemed to catch herself—“get back to Panthasos, of course.”
She looked at it longingly as they sailed past at a distance.
“We don’t need treasure anymore,” Roveeka said, coming up beside her. “We have one another.”
“I guess you’re right,” Odette replied. Yet Wily could tell she didn’t quite mean it.
Hours later, the end of their seafaring journey was marked by the sight of Ratgull Harbor.
“We’ll need to find an unoccupied pier to dock the ship,” Pryvyd said to the Recluself.
“Actually,” the elf replied, “this ship has one last trick up its sleeve. But I’ve never tried it before.”
“Should I be frightened?” Pryvyd said.
“Only if it doesn’t work,” he answered.
The Recluself took the wheel from Jayrus and directed the boat to the harbor landing, where a stone ramp was used to pull ships out of the water for maintenance or to be salvaged into more buildings for the city. The Recluself pulled a lever.
The front of the ship hit the ramp—and rolled right up it!
“How is that possible?” Odette said, looking over the edge of the boat with Wily.
At the bottom of the boat were a series of wheels that were spinning rapidly.
“I was the Brine Baron’s engineer,” the Recluself said. “I built him some pretty amazing machines.”
The Recluself’s ship rumbled into the crowded
shipyard. Shocked dockhands and sailors hustled out of the way as the great wooden behemoth charged through the crushed shell–covered square toward the closed gates of the shipyard.
“What is that?” Wily could hear people shout from below.
“The return of two kings,” Roveeka shouted down to them.
The amphibious ship struck the metal gate of the shipyard, uprooting the fence and pulling it through town as it rolled down the narrow alleys. The Recluself had to steer carefully through the winding streets to avoid hitting the ramshackle buildings, which looked barely stable enough to stand on their own, even without being hit by a fast-moving ship.
“Turn that way,” Wily called, pointing to the right. “I see an old acquaintance.”
The Recluself turned the ship so that it was moving uphill toward a man in satin pants. It was the traitorous Thrush Flannigan of the Coal Fox, walking the grimy street with a bottle of bubbly water in hand. He looked in horrified awe at the strange wheeled ship charging toward him.
“Run him over,” Kestrel whispered in Wily’s ear. “For what he did to you, he deserves it.”
“I have a better way of getting back at him,” Wily replied as the amphibious machine rumbled closer and closer. He then whispered something into the Recluself’s ear.
“Aye aye, Captain,” the Recluself replied.
He spun the wheel. The ship made a hard turn on the muddy road, and the back wheel kicked up a massive spray of thick muck that splattered Thrush, coating him in a layer of grime from his well-coiffed mustache down to his painted toenails. With a look of horror, he dropped his bubbly water on the ground.
“Set sail and never come back,” Wily said. “Once I retake the palace, there will be no place for you in Panthasos.”
Thrush stood there speechless as a thick clump of mud fell from his hair onto the ground. “I would have done worse,” Kestrel said. “You’re a kinder person than I.”
The ship continued up the hill, rolling past elves, gwarves, and skrovers, and straight under the cloth banner that marked the entrance to Ratgull Harbor.
Snared: Voyage on the Eversteel Sea Page 15
