For a moment, Hilary thought the whole mansion might capsize. The floorboards would split, the waves would rush in, and she would sink to the bottom of the High Seas without any hope of rescue. Then, faintly, she heard the gargoyle cheering. She held him close, and Tilbury Park began to right itself around her.
“Very well, then,” Captain Blacktooth said at last, though he didn’t sound happy about it. “Hilary Westfield, you are no longer a member of the Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates. Please forfeit the sword that was issued to you by the League.”
Hilary was hardly aware of her own hands as they picked up her cutlass—her beautiful, fearsome pirate cutlass—and passed it to Captain Blacktooth. He took it in his own hands and nodded.
“The League accepts your forfeit,” he said solemnly.
Then he looked out over the ballroom. “If this battle is going to continue, I suggest you hurry downstairs and help your friend. She seems to be in trouble, and I warn you: my niece is extremely talented when it comes to magic.”
Hilary spun around. “Oh, blast,” she whispered, for Philomena had plucked one of the magic pitchers from the glass-paneled cabinet, and she was using it to dangle Claire several feet above everyone else’s heads. Pirates, guards, and inspectors alike had paused their sword fighting to stare up at Claire, floating in her orange-gold silk like a stray bit of sunset. She didn’t scream, and she didn’t cry, but Hilary took one look at her face and knew she was terrified.
“I’ll be needing this back,” Hilary said, snatching her cutlass out of Captain Blacktooth’s hands. “I know it’s against the rules, but you told me once that being a pirate requires a certain disregard for good behavior.” Then, before Captain Blacktooth could do a single thing about it, Hilary sliced her cutlass through the air in front of her and ran as fast as she could down the staircase, through the crowd, and toward Philomena.
Mrs. Tilbury tried to grab her arm, but Hilary shoved her aside and hurried on. All she could hear was Philomena taunting Claire. “Where did you get such a lovely dress?” Philomena was saying. “Did you steal it, perhaps? Have you been picking up horrid habits from your pirate friends?”
Hilary grabbed Philomena from one side just as Charlie grabbed her from the other. They both held up their swords, and Philomena stopped laughing.
“Let Claire down this instant,” said Hilary, “or I shall find a way to send you somewhere that makes the Royal Dungeons look like the finest mansion in Queensport.”
“And I’ll just run you through,” Charlie said. “So you’d better be quick about it.”
Philomena looked at each of them, and then she looked down at their swords. “If I let her down,” she said, “will you get your grubby pirate hands off of me?”
“Maybe,” said Hilary.
“All right, then.” Philomena smirked. “Magic pitcher, please release Miss Dupree from the air.”
With a yelp of pain, Claire crashed to the floor at Philomena’s feet.
“Hey!” the gargoyle cried. “You dropped her on purpose!”
Philomena glared at him. “I won’t be scolded by a silly little pebble,” she said, “especially not at my debut.”
“He’s right, though,” said Hilary. She struck the flat of her cutlass blade against Philomena’s golden pitcher, sending it rolling across the ballroom floor. “And don’t you dare call him a pebble. Have you got something cruel to say about each of my friends?”
“Actually—” Philomena broke off, and the room went quiet. Claire had limped over to the cabinet full of magic, and as they watched, she pulled an enormous golden serving tray from the lowest shelf. “For heaven’s sake, Miss Dupree,” said Philomena, “you’ve gone and found the largest magic piece in our collection. Surely you can’t expect to use it.”
“But if I’m holding it,” said Claire, “you won’t dare to send me into the air again, will you?” She smiled at Philomena. “Just imagine what I could do with it.”
“She could explode Tilbury Park,” Charlie whispered to Hilary behind Philomena’s back, “and blow all the Northlands to rubble. What is she up to?”
“I think she’s bluffing,” Hilary whispered back. “She’s a very good actress.”
Philomena hesitated for a moment. Then she laughed. “It would be one thing,” she said, “if you were truly a High Society girl. But you can barely curtsy! Can you even use a magic crochet hook?”
Claire flushed and nearly dropped the serving tray.
Philomena gave a dramatic little gasp. “You can’t use a crochet hook, can you? Well, I certainly can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Oh,” cried Claire, “I am so sick of you, Philomena!” She waved the serving tray in the air. “In fact, I’m sick of your whole villainous family! You can’t just storm through the kingdom snatching up Enchantresses and forcing us all to do what you say, you know; it’s frightfully rude! Of course, I don’t believe rudeness bothers any of you one bit. But do you know what I wish?” The serving tray shook in her grip. “I wish all you dratted Mutineers would disappear to some horrid little deserted island and leave me alone!”
“No!” cried Hilary, Charlie, Miss Greyson, and Mr. Stanley at once, but it was too late. Claire stared in horror at the serving tray. “Oh dear,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to wish . . .”
And then, with a very loud pop, Philomena vanished.
At first Hilary thought she’d imagined it, but when she looked around the ballroom, she couldn’t see Philomena anywhere. In fact, Tilbury Park seemed far less full of people than it had a few moments before. The queen’s inspectors were still accounted for, as were all the pirates Cannonball Jack had invited, but the guards in peacock blue had disappeared, and there was no sign of Mrs. Tilbury. Even Captain Blacktooth was gone, and no amount of staring or blinking on Hilary’s part would retrieve him.
“Claire?” Hilary said into the echoing space Philomena had left behind. “I think the magic worked.”
Claire set down the serving tray, but her hands were still shaking. “No,” she said, “it couldn’t have worked. It should have exploded.” She sat down on the floor right in the middle of the ballroom.
Behind her, Alice Feathering climbed back through the shattered window. She was nearly out of breath, and she looked as though she really had seen a ghost. “Terror!” she called to Hilary. “Something’s happened to Nicholas! I’d just gotten him pinned against a tree when he disappeared from under my blade, and—” Alice looked around the ballroom. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Where did everyone go?”
“Perhaps I can provide an explanation.” Miss Pimm walked unsteadily down the stairs, still leaning on Cannonball Jack’s arm and looking very grave. “I believe I know exactly what’s happened.”
Claire looked like she might cry. “You do?”
“Please don’t be angry with Claire, Miss Pimm,” Hilary cut in. “It was an accident; she didn’t mean to use all that magic, and I’m sure she’s very sorry. You won’t expel her from school, will you? Or chide her in rhyme? Or—”
“Miss Westfield,” said Miss Pimm, “please stop blathering. You are a very good pirate, but right now you’re being terribly silly.” Then she turned to Claire and smiled. “Whyever would I be angry with the girl who’s going to be our next Enchantress?”
* * *
From
The Illustrated Queensport Gazette
YOUR GATEWAY TO THE CIVILIZED WORLD!
TERROR OF THE SOUTHLANDS
RESCUES ENCHANTRESS
NORDHOLM, AUGUSTA—Miss Eugenia Pimm, Enchantress of the Northlands, is on her way home to Pemberton at long last, thanks to the brave actions of Pirate Hilary Westfield, Pirate Charlie Dove, Miss Claire Dupree, and their mates. Pirate Westfield, whom the Gazette knows fondly as the Terror of the Southlands, caused quite a splash in High Society yesterday evening when she presented Miss Pimm at Tilbury Park during the debut ball of Miss Philomena Tilbury. “I’m not entirely sure how Pirate Westfield managed to find th
e Enchantress,” said Inspector John Hastings. “I don’t believe she owns a magnifying glass or a fingerprint kit.” The inspector admitted that he was grateful to Pirate Westfield for her help in solving the case, though he insisted he would have found Miss Pimm himself if only he’d been given a few more minutes to search for her.
Accounts of the ball are rather muddled: some guests claim the Enchantress fell ill while visiting the Tilburys, while others believe the Tilburys personally arranged for Miss Pimm’s disappearance. It seems clear, however, that quite a lot of pirates attended last night’s event, and that they staunchly refused to mind their manners.
Shortly before Miss Pimm’s sudden and surprising return, Queen Adelaide had agreed to appoint Miss Philomena Tilbury as the next Enchantress, but the queen is now reconsidering that agreement. “I am happy to welcome Miss Pimm back to her post,” the queen told the Gazette, “and I look forward to having her guidance as we determine who her successor shall be.” Miss Pimm is currently traveling to Pemberton on the pirate ship the Pigeon, which will resume distributing magic throughout the kingdom within the month.
According to Inspector Hastings, the queen’s inspectors are searching for Mrs. Georgiana Tilbury in order to question her further about the Enchantress’s disappearance. They are also eager to learn more about the vast quantity of stolen magic that inspectors discovered at Tilbury Park, which seems to be identical to the missing loot hidden by Admiral James Westfield before his arrest last year. It is believed that Mrs. Tilbury and several of her friends and family members are residing temporarily on a horrid little deserted island somewhere on the High Seas.
* * *
* * *
From
The Picaroon
BEIN’ THE OFFICIAL NEWSLETTER OF THE VERY NEARLY HONORABLE LEAGUE OF PIRATES
RESIGNATIONS SHAKE THE LEAGUE. The Picaroon has confirmed rumors from last week’s thrilling pirate battle that Pirate Hilary Westfield, the Terror of the Southlands, has withdrawn from the Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates. The Terror had received three warnings for unpiratical behavior from VNHLP president Rupert Blacktooth, but it is unknown whether these warnings were the cause of her shocking and scandalous departure from the League. Captain Blacktooth welcomed the Terror into the League with open arms only last year, and we at the Picaroon cannot understand why any pirate would be foolhardy enough to turn down membership in our illustrious organization. But the Terror appears to have her admirers, for the pirates Charlie Dove and Cannonball Jack have resigned from the League as well in support of her decision. We firmly remind all three scallywags that freelance pirates must forfeit their subscriptions to the Picaroon and may not attend any League picnics.
RENEGADE CREW LOCATED. After several days of searching, representatives from the VNHLP have found Captain Blacktooth and his crew on a remote, miserable island several leagues south of Augusta. For reasons unknown to this publication, most of the crew members were dressed in unflattering peacock-blue uniforms that had been thoroughly soaked during their week on the island. Captain Blacktooth and his men are reported to be remarkably grumpy, perhaps due to the fact that they were forced to share their island with two High Society ladies and one young man who is reported to be the most eligible gentleman in Augusta. When told that the queen’s inspectors were on their way to the island, Captain Blacktooth groaned and buried his face in the sleeves of his rather curious tailcoat.
* * *
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
HILARY STOOD AT the bow of the Pigeon and watched as the spires and rooftops of Pemberton rose up along the coastline in front of her. “We’re almost there, gargoyle,” she said softly. “It’s nearly time to say ‘Land ho!’”
The gargoyle, who had been napping in his Nest, yawned and stretched his wings. “Land ho!” he murmured sleepily. “Make way for the Terror of the Southlands and her fearsome beast!” He looked up at Hilary. “We won’t stay in Pemberton for ages, will we? I was just getting settled back in my Nest.”
“We won’t be there for long,” Hilary assured him. “We’ve just got to bring Miss Pimm and Claire back to finishing school, and I’d like to buy some new pirate clothes. These were a gift from Blacktooth, and I don’t believe I want to keep wearing them now that I know what he’s truly like.” She adjusted the gargoyle’s hat, which had slipped toward his snout as he dozed. “Do you really think I did the right thing?”
“You mean leaving the VNHLP?” The gargoyle thought for a moment. Then he nodded. “Being a pirate,” he said, “isn’t the same as being a villain, but I don’t think Captain Blacktooth knows the difference.”
“I believe you’re right,” said Hilary. “And it’s absolutely infuriating that he’s still in charge of all those scourges and scallywags. The finest pirate league on the High Seas simply shouldn’t be run by a villain!” She slapped her hands against the ship’s rail. “Do you think it’s possible that losing a battle to the Terror of the Southlands has given Blacktooth a change of heart?”
“If it hasn’t,” said the gargoyle, “we should make him walk the plank.”
Hilary smiled at the thought of it. “I’ll have half the scallywags in the kingdom after me if I try something like that,” she said. “They’re free to blast me to pieces whenever they’d like now that I’ve left the League.”
“Then you’ll just have to be an even better pirate than they are,” the gargoyle said. “Rescuing Miss Pimm was a very good start.”
Miss Pimm had not returned to her usual commanding state, but a few days on the Pigeon seemed to have done her some good. Miss Greyson had plied her with hearty food and small doses of magic until she was strong enough to walk down to the Pigeon’s storeroom, where she collected a generous handful of golden coins and crochet hooks. Some of these she used to improve her health, but most she gave to Claire, who had spent nearly the entire trip from Nordholm trying to train her knack for magic.
“Those explosions of yours,” Miss Pimm had explained, “are quite natural, for you’ve got a good deal more magical strength than those small coins can contain. When I was a girl, I blew up half my family’s collection of magic toothpicks before I found a golden soup tureen that was large enough to hold my power without exploding to bits.” She smiled. “At the time, I believe, I was wishing for something interesting to happen, and the next thing I knew, a sheep burst into the room and began to dance the hornpipe.”
Claire and Miss Pimm joined Hilary at the Pigeon’s bow as Jasper steered the ship into Pemberton Bay. “Is Claire really going to be the Enchantress, then?” the gargoyle asked.
Miss Pimm nodded. “As soon as she’s learned to control her talent,” she said, “and only if she wants to be. I must admit I am eager to retire, but I certainly won’t force another young girl into the job if she can’t stand the thought of it.”
“I can absolutely stand it,” Claire said cheerfully. “And I believe I’m making progress. I only exploded two crochet hooks today.”
“Excellent,” said Miss Pimm. “When we return to school, you shall take private lessons with me. Shall we say four days a week, bright and early before breakfast?”
Claire gulped.
“If anyone’s going to be the new Enchantress,” Hilary said, “I’m very glad it’s you. You’ll be loads better than Philomena.”
Miss Pimm shook her head. “Georgiana Tilbury had been pestering me for ages, you know, insisting that I train Philomena as the next Enchantress. I knew the woman was ruthless, and I suspected her of sending intruders to Pemberton to watch my movements. As a matter of fact, that’s why I wrote to Mr. Fletcher. But I never dreamed she’d nearly succeed at shoving me aside.” She pursed her lips. “I do hope that Inspector Hastings doesn’t set her loose upon Augusta.”
Once the Pigeon was safely anchored in Pemberton Bay, with Mr. Stanley in place to watch over its treasure, Hilary scooped the gargoyle into her bag and set off for the mainland with the other pirates. Even Charlie didn’t seem at all dismayed to be marchi
ng back to Miss Pimm’s Finishing School for Delicate Ladies. He had impressed several pirates with his sword-fighting skills at Philomena’s ball, and a few scallywags had already written him to ask him for dueling advice, which had put him in a remarkably cheerful mood. “If I’d known High Society balls could be so much fun,” he’d remarked to Hilary, “I would have attended more of them.”
They made quite a grand procession, Hilary thought: Miss Greyson discussing books with Mr. Marrow; Jasper and Charlie swinging their swords in the midday sun; Claire delivering a virtuoso performance on her tin whistle; Mr. Slaughter escorting Miss Pimm; and Hilary at the end of the line with the gargoyle by her side. “Do you know,” she said to the gargoyle, “I feel rather bold and daring at the moment.”
The gargoyle studied her. “It helps,” he said, “that you don’t look like a cabbage.”
Then the road curved west, they entered the center of Pemberton, and Hilary drew in her breath. She couldn’t quite believe it, but the front gate of Miss Pimm’s finishing school was blocked by a small but energetic crowd of people who clapped and cheered as the pirates approached. Some of them were finishing-school girls with dancing sheep embroidered on their cardigans, and others were queen’s inspectors in tidy red jackets. Then there were several people Hilary didn’t recognize at all, though she could see Alice Feathering jumping up and down to get a better view. A banner reading WELCOME HOME, MISS PIMM flapped above the gate, and underneath it, someone had hung another banner that said THANK YOU, PIRATES. Hilary put her arms around Charlie and Claire as they admired the banners, and for a few moments, none of them could do anything but grin.
The Terror of the Southlands Page 22
