“They call that the Spout,” Sophie offered. “See that little boat? That’s the old fisherman and his wife, who live in the ruins of Petraportus. They keep to themselves mostly. We don’t even know their names. Nobody else is crazy enough to go in there, because the rest of it could collapse any minute.”
“And what is that place?” asked Hap, looking toward the carved pillar.
“Why, that is the Aerie,” Sophie replied. Her voice had gained strength, and he was glad to see that she’d moved a little closer.
The Aerie. Of course, Hap thought. Umber could not live in an ordinary home; it had to be something remarkable. He took a closer look. At the top a short, narrow tower stood at one corner. At the bottom was a boxy gatehouse, dwarfed by the pillar that loomed over it. Descending from there, a stone causeway spanned a frothing white river that spilled from the mountains to the harbor. The causeway flattened into a road that led to the magnificent city.
To behold the city from the harbor was to look up a series of steps. First, all around them were the watercraft—too many to count, from tiny rowboats to great cargo ships, cluttering the docks and moored offshore. Sophie followed his gaze. “Have you ever seen so many ships?” she said. “The merchant vessels are there … the king’s navy is in the middle … and the fishing boats are there. And look—there’s the shipyard.” Hap followed where her finger pointed and saw, on the far side of the harbor, a dozen ships in every stage of construction. Some were just skeletal rows of ribs, others were partially clad with curving planks, and some needed only a mast and sails before they could swim.
Behind the docks was a high stone wall, daunting to any invader. Past that, the city sprawled on a gently sloping hill. There were buildings with magnificent columns, arches and domes, and neighborhoods packed tight with tall, brightly colored houses.
In the center of it all was a palace. The great building looked like something sculpted from sand. Its elegant towers, clustered tight and rising ever higher near the center, were topped by swallow-tail banners that snapped in the ocean breeze. The tallest tower was adorned by a clock with a face as big as the moon. Gardens surrounded the castle, and even from this distance Hap could see the riot of hues in bloom.
Behind them, Hap heard the door to the cabin open. Umber stepped out. When he saw Hap he wiped the back of his hand across his forehead in exaggerated fashion, and then broke into a wide grin. “Well, I suppose I deserved that tongue-lashing. Don’t get the wrong idea about Hoyle, though. She’s a fine person, though mortally addicted to profit.” Umber swept his arm across the panorama before them. “So, what do you think of Kurahaven? Does it tickle your memory?”
“If I saw this before, I hope I’d remember,” Hap said.
“Trust me, it’s just as beautiful up close. I have so much to show you, Hap. So much to explore!”
Sandar shouted orders. Sails were furled until only one remained to nudge the Swift forward, and the crew skillfully guided her to her berth. Hap sighed with relief as the ship squeaked against the dock. He was eager to leave the menacing sea behind at last and set foot on sturdy land.
Hoyle scowled at Umber one last time, and then stomped down the plank, across the dock, and up the wide stairs of a tall, white building with a sign that made Hap look twice. Under a large decorative letter U it said THE UMBER SHIPPING COMPANY.
Hap followed the others down the plank. The dock was busy as an anthill. Grunting, laughing, sweating, singing men loaded and unloaded the ships. Barrels were rolled up and down ramps, chests were balanced on shoulders, and crates dangled high from ropes and pulleys.
Word somehow spread that Umber had arrived, because a stream of men ran up to greet him, ask whispered questions, and hand over documents for him to peruse. Odd things happened between those mundane pieces of business. Someone handed Umber a nasty-looking rat in a cage. Umber accepted it happily, thanking the fellow for his thoughtfulness. Another man approached with a small wooden box. Umber was delighted to receive it. He swung the hinged lid open, revealing a mass of packing straw inside. Umber dug in and pulled out a bottle, not so different from the one he’d thrown at the tyrant worm. It was made of orange glass with a fat bottom and narrow neck, sealed with cork and wax.
“What exactly is the effect?” he asked the man who’d brought it.
“Not precisely sure, my lord,” said the man. “Serpents, I believe. But the wizard said it ought not to be used in a crowd.”
“Well done, Flugel. Worth whatever we paid, I’m sure. The prince will be delighted.”
A carriage drawn by a pair of sturdy horses appeared. Umber waved to its driver and looked back for his companions. “Hap, Sophie, Balfour, our ride is here. Where is Oates? Where’d that bruiser get to now?”
Hap looked to his left for the big man. A sound from the other direction caught his attention: the unmistakable slap of a hand on flesh. He saw Oates a few paces away with a bright red mark on one cheek. A young woman stood before him, flexing her fingers. She darted Oates a poisonous stare and muttered something dreadful before stomping away with her dress swishing violently from side to side.
“Not again,” said Umber. “Poor Oates. I’ve told him not to talk to women. Honesty gets him nowhere.”
The carriage rocked as Oates clambered in. “Nobody talk to me,” he said, holding his cheek with one hand.
“I wouldn’t dream of asking. Stow this, will you?” Umber replied, handing Oates the caged rat. Oates sighed and put the cage under his seat.
Hap leaned out the window, absorbing the scene that rolled by. The carriage clattered over cobblestones and through one of the open gates in the harbor wall. Every gate had heavy doors that could be shut fast—in case of some enemy’s assault, Hap figured. But this was clearly a time of peace, because the doors were open wide, and only a few soldiers occupied the watchtowers that topped the wall a hundred yards apart.
The carriage reached a crossroads and turned sharply left, heading for the Aerie. They were on the sloping road that Hap had seen from the harbor, and soon the carriage rattled across the causeway. Hap saw the foaming river that tumbled through a gap in the mountains, thundered over rocky steps, and churned the sea.
“The river Kura,” Umber called over the roaring cascades.
The causeway angled higher, and Hap had to lean forward to keep his face at the window. Ahead was a stone gatehouse at the foot of the Aerie. The clopping of hooves slowed and the carriage stopped in a small courtyard.
“Here we are, Hap,” said Umber. “I hope you’ll call this home.”
There were two doors that led into the Aerie. One was made of dark wood covered with plates of iron; it was just wide enough to let a single person pass. The second door was twice as high and five times as wide. It was crafted from some glossy black material, seamless and unblemished, like a pool of ink standing on edge.
“We could use the little door, but the big one’s more fun,” Umber said. He rubbed his hands together and grinned. “Ready for some magic?”
“Um. I guess,” Hap replied.
“Hurkhor!” Umber called aloud, facing the door, with one hand raised high.
That means open, Hap thought, deciphering the strange word. But it’s not the same tongue we’ve been speaking. He was going to ask Umber about it when something remarkable happened. A thin vertical line appeared in the center of the shiny black door. The crack widened, and the door split in two and swung inward. Its only sound was a soft whisper.
“You made it open by saying that word?” asked Hap.
Umber nodded and laughed.
“But that doesn’t make any sense,” said Hap.
“If it made sense, it wouldn’t be magic.” Umber showed Hap the back of his right hand. There were several rings on Umber’s fingers, but he wiggled the third digit. That ring had an oval stone made of the same black material.
CHAPTER
9
“Welcome home, Lord Umber,” said a tall woman with short white hair. Her silver go
wn brushed the floor. She stood on the other side of the black door, alone in a lofty room. Her voice was raised because there was another sound inside, thunderous and constant.
“Always good to return, Tru.” Umber waved the rest of them inside.
Hap stepped into the room to find another stunning scene. The walls of the room were chiseled out of solid stone, hollowed completely except for two pillars that were carved to look like a great pair of legs, with boots at the bottom and the knees blending into the stone ceiling above.
A staircase zigged and zagged up the opposite wall to the upper levels of the Aerie. To his right, Hap saw the source of the thunderous sound: A waterfall emerged from a cavity above and dropped into a dark channel at their feet. The rushing water turned a paddle wheel, which was connected to a complex contraption: gears, ropes, and wooden platforms that could rise, disappear through a hole in the ceiling, and return again, completing an oval journey. For the moment, however, only the paddle wheel was moving.
Umber had paused, giving Hap a moment to take in his surroundings. “Lady Truden, this is Happenstance. I’ll explain him later. For now, I’m sure young Hap could use a soft bed and a few hours’ sleep. Am I right in that, Hap?”
Hap bit his bottom lip. “I … I still don’t feel tired.” He didn’t look up at Lady Truden, because he was sure she was staring at his eyes.
“There’s something strange about this boy, Tru,” said Oates. “Sorry,” he added quickly toward Umber, who’d shot another lethal glare in his direction.
“It’s fine if you’re not tired, Hap,” Umber said. “In fact, it’s wonderful. You can get to know the place right away. Tru, Hap will need a room of his own. Something with a view of the city would be nice.”
“Of course, Lord Umber,” Lady Truden said. “Shall we use the stairs or the lift?”
“Oh, the lift is much more fun,” Umber said.
“I hate the lift,” muttered Oates. He plodded toward the stairs, carrying the boxes that Umber had been given, with the rat in its cage on top of the stack.
Lady Truden led the rest over the deck that surrounded the paddle wheel. She pulled a wooden lever, and Hap heard a ratcheting sound as cogs and wheels meshed and the ropes turned. There was room for two or three on each wooden platform. Sophie and Balfour stepped onto one and were lifted toward the higher levels of the Aerie.
Umber took Hap’s elbow as the next platform arrived. “Carefully now, Hap … here we go.” He stepped on, taking Hap with him, and Lady Truden joined them.
“Did you find what you sought?” she said quietly to Umber.
“Um … hard to say,” Umber replied. Hap stood between them, so the conversation took place over his head. He heard every word, but understood none of it.
“And how did you feel? Was there any …” Lady Truden had dropped her voice even lower, and it faded to nothing.
“None of that, all was well,” Umber said, waving his hand. “And how is everything here? How is our guest?”
“There is no change.”
“Still, eh? Don’t know what to do about that.” Umber tapped Hap on the shoulder. “The grand hall is up ahead. Let’s get off here.” They passed through the opening in the ceiling, and Hap saw another handsome room, much larger than the one below. As the platform reached the level of the floor, they stepped off. Overhead, Hap saw Balfour and Sophie still rising toward a third story.
The grand hall had a wooden table in the middle, surrounded by chairs. Shelves and bureaus were cluttered with fascinating objects that would take days to explore. Paintings depicted all manner of subjects: portraits of people in odd clothes, fantastical creatures, maps of kingdoms and wild lands, and things that Hap could not decipher at a glance.
Corridors on either side of the hearth plunged deeper into the rock. The smell of bread and other foodstuffs drifted out from one, and Hap glimpsed a kitchen beyond swinging doors. Another archway framed a staircase, and Oates climbed into view, carrying the boxes.
“Oh yes, the rat!” Umber said. He took the cage from the top of the stack and, to Hap’s surprise, unlatched the lid and turned it sideways. The rat spilled onto the ground, twitched its nose, and scurried under the nearest cabinet.
“Oh, dear,” Umber called out, in a voice too loud to be intended for anyone in the room. “Did you see that? A rat’s gotten loose in the grand hall!”
Hap looked at the others. None of them seemed to find this behavior odd. He added it to the growing list of things for which he hoped to find an explanation. Umber put the empty cage on the table and wiped his hands on his pants. “Tru, will you give Hap a quick tour? I’ll show him the caverns another time—no need to boggle his mind more than we’ve done already. Let him choose any vacant room for his own. By the way, Hap will join me for that party tonight. I suppose we should stop at the market to get him some decent clothes. But first I need to pop into my tower, and I shouldn’t be disturbed. Shall we meet back here in two hours?”
Umber bounded up the stairs, and Lady Truden led Hap around the Aerie. From the grand hall, they ventured past the kitchen, which smelled wonderfully of spice and bread and roasted meat. She took Hap down another corridor, pointing out a privy first, storage rooms, and then a door with a barred window at eye level. “Umber’s archives,” she said. “You might see a strange fellow inside. It’s only Smudge. I’ll leave it up to Lord Umber if you ever meet him. Don’t wander in there alone, if you don’t want to get bitten.”
Bitten? Hap peered inside the window. The room was bigger than he’d expected. Exactly how deep it plunged into the pillar of rock he couldn’t tell, because the space was cluttered with tall shelves that were stuffed with books and crates. An ink-stained desk stood near the door, where scrolls were unrolled and a half loaf of bread sprouted a garden of mold.
A flicker of motion attracted Hap’s eye, and he jerked his head to one side to avoid the thing flying their way. It struck the bars in the window and dissolved into pieces, splattering him and Lady Tru with something orange, moist, and sticky.
“Ew!” Hap said, wrinkling his nose. He looked at the floor, where the slimy remains of a rotten peach had fallen. A snort and a giggle came from somewhere in the archives, then footsteps padded away into silence.
“He’s thrown worse,” Lady Tru said with her lip curled. She flicked a splotch off her shoulder with the long nail of one finger. “Let’s move on.”
There was more beyond the archives, but Lady Tru said she would leave that for Umber to show. “If he thinks you ought to see it,” she added with a sniff. They returned to the grand hall, stepped back on the lift, and rode to the third story of the Aerie. “The residences,” she said when they arrived.
She opened the doors to unoccupied rooms and told Hap to select one for his own. Each was unique, as if a craftsman from a different corner of the world had created each bed, desk, table, chair, or ornament on the wall. Hap was reluctant to choose; he hardly felt like he’d done anything to deserve such a splendid place to stay.
“You won’t want this one,” Lady Tru said, opening the last door in the corridor. But as soon as Hap peered inside, he knew it was for him.
Somebody else might have claimed it, if not for its tiny dimensions. There was barely room for the bed, desk, and chairs. A pair of tall, oval windows dominated the walls that angled together. Between them was a golden spyglass, on a stand that could swivel in any direction. The space was modest and curious, and yet it simply felt right.
“I think I’d like to stay here,” Hap said.
“Surely it’s too small. We only use this when there are too many guests.”
“It’s not too small for me.” The windows were barred, like the others in the Aerie. But outside the bars was mullioned glass of wonderful clarity. He turned the latches and pushed on the iron frames. Fresh air gusted in as the glass panels swung wide.
Ever since they left the harbor, they had climbed—up the steep causeway and up again through the three stories of the Aerie. A
nd so from the left window he could behold, from a height normally reserved for birds, the glory of Kurahaven, and even the farmlands beyond the city. Through the right window he could watch the Rulian Sea and the busy harbor below.
Hap stuck his head between the bars and looked down. He realized precisely where this room was: inside the carved head he’d seen from the Swift. The oval windows were its eyes. He gazed at the harbor. And then a sight struck him like an arrow between the eyes. He staggered and gripped the bars.
“Young man—what’s the matter with you?” asked Lady Truden.
“The ship,” Hap said between gasps.
The ship that had pursued Boroon all those miles was anchored in the middle of the harbor. He was sure of it—and surer than ever that the creature named Occo had indeed picked up his scent, as the note that he wasn’t supposed to read had warned.
CHAPTER
10
Hap bounded up the stairs, heading for the roof of the Aerie, where he might find Umber. Lady Truden called after him: “Young man! You’re not to be running off by yourself!”
Hap waited for her to catch up. His heart thumped hard and fast against his chest, as if hammering out of its cage. “I have to tell Lord Umber about the ship!” Back in the little room he’d trained the spyglass on the craft. Every detail matched his memory: pale wood and a curving prow carved like a serpent’s head. The only difference was that the tall figure no longer stood on the deck. As far as he could see there was nobody on the ship at all.
The landing opened onto a garden terrace that was lush with a staggering diversity of shrubs, trees, and flowers; even in his frantic state, Hap was struck by its beauty. But he would have to appreciate it later—Umber needed to know about the ominous ship now. And Umber was certainly inside the structure at the corner, a tower erected on the flat top of the natural stone. The only entry was a barred door. “That is Lord Umber’s study and his quarters,” Lady Truden said, huffing. “Nobody is allowed there without his permission. And he told me quite plainly he wanted time to himself.”
Happenstance Found (Books of Umber #1) Page 7
