by Zoë Ferraris
“Sure as suns! Everyone saw her being dragged up the gangplank. And she looked terrible. Sick and skinny, her hair was wild…she was screaming about slibbernuts and cocklies.”
“What are those?”
“Nothing. It’s nonsense. She’s lost her mind.”
The conversation vanished abruptly, and Emma looked at Herbie. He could tell from the look on her face that something was very wrong. Quietly, they gathered their things and left.
A re you…tripping the light fantastic?” Herbie asked.
Emma shook her head. “It was weird,” she said. Her voice was shaking. “I heard things people were saying across the room. I’m pretty sure it was because of the water.”
“Dude, that is so not fair. I just heard a bunch of sailors talking about rope.”
“It was bad.”
“What did you hear?” he asked.
She told him about her mom supposedly having special powers, and that she was being brought to Hydra on a ship called the Newton Eel, which was run by the same woman who had executed her, Captain Gent. When she got to the description of her mom walking up the gangplank and shouting out nonsense, Emma choked on the words and fought back tears.
“They’re going to kill her,” Emma squeaked.
Herbie stopped walking. He looked chagrined.
“I know it sounds crazy,” she said quickly, “but I think I really was hearing their conversations and they were telling the truth—”
Herbie cut her off. “So what’s our plan for getting them back?”
“My parents?” She wiped away a tear. “Wait, you’re okay with that? I thought you wanted to go home.”
“We have to find your parents first. You can’t do it alone. And you can’t do it without the Markab.”
A faint smile broke through her gloom. “You rock,” she said.
“So do we have a plan?” he asked.
“No.”
“I think we should ask around at the harbor,” he said. “Someone might know where the ship holding your mom went…but first I think we’d better check on the Markab.”
“Good idea.”
The town was considerably busier now. It seemed that they had to push their way through crowds on nearly every street. When they reached the harbor road, they stopped to scan for navy sailors. Walking carefully alongside the water, keeping a sharp eye out, they headed for the pier where the Markab was docked.
The navy sailors seemed to have vanished, and the pier was even more crowded with animals. Emma and Herbie had to pick their way past a tangle of sheep. They managed to get within twenty feet of the Markab before spotting a navy sailor. He was sitting on a cask—a young man, maybe twenty. His uniform was brand-new, and he was almost completely hidden by a bevy of swans. The birds, which were tied together by their necks, were tugging one another and squawking loudly. The man was shooing them away halfheartedly.
He was sitting right next to the Markab.
Emma and Herbie quickly ducked behind a row of cages that were filled with chameleons and other lizards. One of the animals hissed at them.
“They found us,” Herbie said.
“We can still get to the boat,” Emma replied. “We just need to sneak around behind those swans and wait until the sailor looks the other way.” Even she thought this was risky, but they didn’t have a choice.
They slipped around the side of the lizard cages and scurried across the walkway, crouching low to stay hidden beside the swans. The birds had stopped squawking and were trumpeting angrily, putting up such a loud honking that the sailor, who was now supremely annoyed, stood up and began pushing them. They shrieked in protest. HONK HONK! The sailor didn’t notice Emma sneaking down the narrow pier and crawling silently over the Markab’s side. Herbie, who was following her, swiftly untied the Markab’s rope and climbed onto the yacht.
“Now what?” he whispered. “He’s going to notice when we start the engine!”
Emma bit her lip. He was right, and she couldn’t think of a quiet way to get free of the slip. “Not if we hurry. Those birds are loud.”
HONK HONK HONK!
“We’re going to have to make a run for it,” she said. “How are we on gas?”
Herbie shook his head. “We maybe have enough to get out of the harbor, but that’s it!”
“That’s all we need.” Emma went to the wheel. Herbie stayed crouched by the mast.
HONK HONK!
Emma started the engine, and it gave a roar. Suddenly, the swans’ trumpeting stopped.
“Oh no…” Herbie peeked over the railing. The sailor had stopped shooing the swans away and was staring at the Markab.
“Hey!” he shouted. “You there! Stop! ” He started running toward the boat, but Emma quickly put it into gear and backed out of the slip. With a quick turn, she set them on a course for the harbor and hit the throttle hard, driving the boat forward with a jolt.
“Emma!” Herbie shouted, pointing at a group of sailors running down the pier. “They’re coming after us!”
Rifle fire rang out as the Markab fled toward the open sea. Emma killed the engine with practiced hands, Herbie let out the sails, and the Markab shot forward. But they weren’t clear yet. Behind them, the navy had set off in a group of cutters, and the boats were gaining speed. Two more cutters were approaching from the side. The small ships were light and swift on the water. Their sails were much larger than the Markab’s, and they were moving twice as fast. As they approached, Emma could see the sailors on their decks. They were wearing the same uniforms that she’d seen on the Strand, and the men were aiming their rifles at the Markab.
“Herbie, duck!” she yelled. They both crouched as a round of rifle shots tore into the Markab’s mast and sides.
Ahead of them, the harbor was packed with ships. Emma was sure there were lanes of traffic, but they were impossible to make out. She turned the yacht to avoid a large, brightly colored ship, but just behind it were two freighters passing each other. She aimed the Markab alongside one of the freighters, but then gave a shriek. To port and ahead, three more navy cutters appeared.
“They’re surrounding us!” she cried.
Just ahead, a massive galleon came into view. It was sailing straight for them, approaching rapidly. It was much too wide for the narrow channels between the other ships, and as it came closer, its hull scraped at the smaller ships and sent sailors screaming for cover.
The wind was pushing the Markab right into its path.
“Herbie!”
He didn’t need prodding. He reefed the sails with lightning speed, and Emma started the engine. It roared to life, and she steered them desperately out of the monster’s path.
“Emma, hurry!”
She drove the Markab farther to port, watching as the navy cutters scrambled for safety.
They stared up at the ship. They had never seen one so large. Its upper hull was painted bright red and covered with wood carvings, gothic windows, and gun ports. There was a great lion carved on the bowsprit, and on the starboard side an escutcheon showed the name ARGH in white letters. Aside from the mainmast, mizzenmast, and foremast, there were two great masts folded against its sides like wings. Metal cannons lined the top deck from the bow to the gallery deck, and far above those, towering masts butted into the sky. The square rigging carried ratlines, and humans and monkeys were clinging there. The whole ship must have been twenty stories high.
As the great ship drew closer, another odd detail became apparent: just above the waterline, the wooden hull was covered in iridescent scales. The scales glimmered and wiggled exactly like a fish’s as it swims through the water. It was the strangest ship Emma had ever seen, and despite her pounding heart, she felt a flicker of terrified awe.
“I don’t see any navy on their deck!” she said.
The ship was nearly upon them now, its bow moving past them. If they had been closer, it would have crushed them like a giant, oblivious foot. It cut a massive seam in the water, and the waves sent the Markab juddering sid
eways. Herbie and Emma stared upward to a deck they couldn’t see, and all they could hear were the splashes of the waves and the strange, humanlike groaning of the wooden monstrosity.
“Come on, Emma, let’s head back to the bridge.”
“No, we have to—”
“Look out!” Herbie shouted. They looked up just as a humongous net fell over them, trapping them like fish. The net was attached to the big ship. The fibers of the net seemed to be wriggling of their own accord. They grabbed the Markab like hundreds of tentacles, attaching to its hull and sails and yanking it upward. Emma and Herbie fell to the deck. The yacht gave a lurch as it rose out of the water. The Markab hit the side of the Argh, and something crunched.
Emma scrambled to her feet just in time to see a massive door on the Argh’s side slide open. She looked around desperately for something to use to defend herself, but when her arm touched the netting, it grabbed ahold of her. She struggled to get free, but the fibers took her other arm, and she was trapped.
“Herbie!” she shouted. Straining to look over her shoulder, she caught sight of Herbie also tangled in the netting. Like a fast-growing vine, it had him by the neck and was wrapping slowly around his chest. His face turned red as he gasped for breath.
With a crunch, the Markab hit the floor and tipped, crashing onto its side. The fibers of the giant net fell away, sending Herbie falling with a clatter and dropping Emma to her knees. She scrambled to Herbie, who was struggling to catch his breath.
“You okay?” she gasped.
He nodded.
The Markab was lying on its side like a wounded whale. They were inside a large cargo hold filled with rows of boxes and stacks of wood. From all around came the squawks of busy monkeys. Emma scrabbled over the wheel and climbed off the yacht, landing on the wooden floor with an angry thunk. She raced around the Markab’s side, looking for whoever had freed them. The netting lay around them like a giant octopus.
She was horrified to see just how much damage had been done to the yacht: its sleek hull was torn to pieces, and bits of it were lying scattered all over the floor. The mast had somehow broken in half and the sails were ripped to shreds. Angry tears welled in her eyes.
Ahead of her, a group of monkeys were closing the cargo doors.
Herbie climbed down from the boat, his face flushed with anger. “What happened?”
“They destroyed our ship!”
Two monkeys approached them, motioning them to a staircase and squawking urgently.
“So what?” Herbie said. “These monkeys don’t talk?”
One monkey hooted and shook a fist at Herbie. He turned to Emma. “They destroyed our boat!”
“I know!”
Fuming, they followed the monkeys to the stairs, climbing up five long flights. When they reached the top deck, they were plunged into chaos. The deck was teeming with kids. There were hundreds of them, all wearing identical beige trousers and shirts with red woolen vests over the top. Monkeys scampered everywhere and dangled from the masts above, where they were unfurling sails. The ship groaned and lurched forward as the wind hit the sails with a crack. The Argh sped up, coursing into the open sea.
A young man’s voice shouted, “Swing guns, on my count! Captain says vostok now!” A whistle blew, and a passing monkey tossed vostok to Emma and Herbie. Emma noticed that everyone was hurriedly eating their stones.
“Vostok bridge ahead!” someone cried. “Fire the cannons!”
Emma and Herbie swallowed their vostok and waited for it to slide its silky safety over their bodies. The skin was just beginning to appear when—crack!—cannon shots filled the sky with a flash of light. Emma pushed her way to the railing, Herbie tailing her. The ship rattled and lurched, resisting the massive force that was drawing it through the bridge. The whole wooden structure let out a deep, coarse rumbling that sounded very much like an AAAAARGHHHHH of complaint. As a crushing force threw them to the ground, everything around them disappeared.
Emma’s first sight of the new Strand was the sky. When she opened her eyes, she saw its dark chaos towering above her, crackling and rippling between the masts and the dozens of sails pulled taut in the wind. This was nothing like the gray Strand that had brought them from Earth. This one loomed with roiling black thunderclouds and flashes of lightning. Loud cracks and groans seemed to swell from a greater place, and she had the sense that not only were the clouds churning and tossing, but the very fabric of the Strand itself was coming apart.
She was lying on the top deck, feeling light-headed. Beside her, Herbie was staring fearfully at the sky.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he grumbled.
She helped him up.
Now that the crowd had cleared, they had a better view of the top deck. It was enormous. The journey from stem to stern almost required a car. On each side, the wooden railings were as high as Emma’s shoulders, their slats as thick around as her waist. And above, the three masts reached so high that their tips were scarcely to be seen.
A gallery deck took up most of the back of the ship. It was two stories above the main deck, shaped like a square house. Through the rain, Emma saw carved window frames and ornate scrollwork hemming the roof. A bank of windows ran around all four sides of the upper floor. She thought the deck was probably a navigation room.
Herbie was still gaping at the ship. “Did you see the lion on the bow?” he said. His anger seemed to be fading as he looked around with curiosity. “It was huge.”
“Yeah,” Emma grouched.
“This must be a Leo ship. But it doesn’t look like we’re going back to Earth. This is a totally different Strand.” He turned to her. “I know they damaged the boat,” he said, “but I think they were trying to rescue us.”
“Yeah.” Emma was frowning. “But they ruined the Markab.”
They looked around at the crew—or Arghs, as they called themselves. A young girl was shouting orders. Dozens of other kids were climbing the ratlines. A rigging rope flew free, wriggling and thrashing like an angry snake until two boys grabbed it and tied it down. The Arghs were so relaxed at their work that Emma wanted to shout at them, “HEY, IDIOTS, YOU DESTROYED MY YACHT!”
“Sure, Santher, no problem,” someone said loudly and sarcastically. “Let me just go ask the captain if you can hubble back there to conquer the navy all by yourself.”
They turned to see a tall boy, a bit older than everyone else. He had a crown of black hair, pretty green eyes that peered out from behind silver wire-rimmed glasses, and a nose that was permanently turned up to the world.
“Okay, Mouncey,” Santher snapped. “So you’re saying we should just run like a bunch of scared mice?”
“Of course we shouldn’t.” Mouncey patted down his vest. “Except that we’re saving our asses!”
“That’s stupid!”
“Well, you are welcome to bring that up with the captain. I’m quite certain he’s going to want a full explanation for how this whole fiasco started in the first place.”
“It wasn’t a fiasco!” Santher said.
“Then what was it?” The voice was deep and loud, with a rumbling quality that brought silence to the deck. Emma and Herbie turned to see a man—the only adult they’d seen so far on the ship—coming up from the stern.
“Captain Lovesey,” Mouncey said, snapping to attention, which caused everyone else to roll their eyes.
“Mouncey, Santher,” the captain said. “Someone care to tell me what’s going on?”
“Well, sir, Santher here has proposed sailing back to Delphinus to take up a fight with the navy.” Mouncey gave him a wry look. “And he would like to go back himself, since the rest of us are cowards.”
The captain looked around at his crew. He cut a strange figure. It looked as if half of his body had been burned. The right side of his face was scarred and mottled, his shoulder hung oddly, and his right arm was thin and withered, held to his side by a sling. The other half of him showed a powerful, rippling form
, with sun-darkened skin, whiskers, and a great shag of hair that was matted from wearing a hat. He wore a beige linen shirt and the red waistcoat of an old uniform. It bore no insignia, only a dark spot on the chest where it looked as if he’d torn off a patch—in the shape of a lion.
In the air beside his head hung a floating spyglass. At least it seemed to be floating, since no one stood behind it, and when it spoke, its great bloodshot eye blinked cruelly.
“Well!” the spyglass cried in a scornful voice. “Somebody get the boy a hubble!”
“Nelson,” the captain growled, raising his hand to silence the spyglass. “Would someone care to tell me what happened back there?”
Three kids started talking at once, but Santher stepped forward. He was slender, with fuzzy light-brown hair and a pair of sharp blue eyes. He couldn’t have been older than thirteen, and yet two streaks of gray hair ran back from each temple.
“The navy was chasing these two on their cutter!” he said, pointing at Emma and Herbie. All eyes turned to them. “We saw they were kids, and we weren’t going to let the navy get ’em!”
“It’s not a cutter,” Emma said sharply. “It’s a yacht, and you’ve destroyed it!”
“Oh, do pardon us,” Mouncey said highly. “For saving your butts!”
The captain’s eyebrows shot up and he turned to Santher, who looked sheepish. “Well,” Santher exclaimed, “we had to bring ’em into the cargo hold—we couldn’t leave ’em on the water!”
“You brought a yacht into the hold?” the captain asked.
“It’s only temporary, sir. I promise I’ll take care of it—”
Clearly upset now, the captain studied his crew. Some of the Arghs were shaking their heads, but Santher shrugged innocently. “The navy was after ’em!”
Just then, a girl came up the stairs near the gallery deck. She was younger than most—probably about eleven—with a pile of short, mousy hair and great blinking brown eyes that were partially hidden behind a pair of floppy bangs. There was a hawk on her arm.
“Laika,” the captain said by way of greeting. “What’s the report?”
