Blue Sea Burning (34 page)

Deadweather was melting under our feet.

Back in Port Scratch, we came across Mung wandering up the main street in a daze, holding a rag to the bloody gash behind what was left of his head.

I would have hugged him, but there wasn't time.

We fetched the oars from Pembroke's boat and piled into the bigger longboat that Adonis and Mung had rowed in from the ship they'd been on—the one Pembroke and I had passed on our way into port.

Then we started to paddle with everything we had.

In my case, “everything” wasn't much. I could barely lift an oar, my eyes were seeing two of everything, and my brain was so addled I didn't really understand what was happening or how I'd wound up in a boat with Adonis and Mung and a comatose monkey.

They tried to explain it to me. The ship they'd jumped from was a patched-together salvage that had taken the field pirates the better part of a week to make seaworthy after they'd hauled it off the beach where it had been wrecked years before. They hadn't had much choice: after the initial, minor eruption that had set the volcano raining smoke and ash over the island, they'd all run down from the plantation to Port Scratch, only to find the town deserted and the
Sea Goblin
—the last functional ship on Deadweather—already a mile out of the harbor.

The field pirates had put to sea as soon as they finished patching the ship together, only to pass Pembroke and me on our way in. Mung had recognized me, and he'd demanded that the field pirates come back and pick me up. They'd voted on it, and saving my life had lost by a margin of thirty-five to two.

But then Mung had persuaded them to let him go alone in one of the longboats they'd piled on the deck in case their salvage sank, and since they had extra, nobody could think of a reason to say no.

It sounded like Adonis had come along mostly out of guilt, which was an emotion I'd never known he was capable of. Clem had initially stayed behind, but once Mung and Adonis got the boat in the water, the field pirates had thrown the monkey in after them.

They'd started for shore, but Adonis couldn't row fast enough for Mung's liking, and about a quarter mile out, there'd been an argument that ended with Mung jumping from the boat and swimming the rest of the way. Which was why he'd showed up dripping wet and much sooner than Adonis, who'd seen Pembroke and me leaving town in the direction of the Devil's Pimple while he was still rowing in.

After Adonis docked, he'd followed us up through the Valley of the Choke Plants, which was pretty easy on account of the trail I'd left by dragging the heavy chain through the brush.

It was a slightly complicated story, and a hard one to explain while rowing for your life from a volcano on the brink of an apocalyptic eruption. Which was why I was still struggling to understand even the basics of it when the volcano finally
did
erupt.

Adonis claims that when the ultimate explosion came, the sky went black, the ocean heaved, and we all screamed in mortal terror until the falling ash grew so thick we couldn't open our mouths anymore. Then we floated, lost and helpless and coughing ash, until Sunrise Island appeared on the horizon, buried under its own layer of gray ash.

And when we pulled into Blisstown, the combination of pirate attack and erupting volcano had turned the rich and colorful place we used to envy into a desolate wreck that was every bit as beaten down and grim as Port Scratch ever had been.

But I don't remember any of that. I read in a book once that bears in cold climates hibernate when winter comes and the land turns harsh, shutting their bodies down until it's spring and life is easier again.

I think something like that must have happened to me. I'd seen more than my share of trouble, and when the eruption blotted out the sun, my body finally decided enough was enough, and that it was time to check out for a while and not come back until somebody else had fixed things, or at least swept up some of that ash.

Happy Endings

I WOKE UP.
Millicent was sitting at the edge of the bed, looking down at me.

“Oh, hel-lo,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“I love you,” I said.

She smiled her perfect smile.

“I love you, too.”

She leaned down and kissed me lightly on the lips. Then she straightened up in a hurry.

“Would you do that again?” I asked.

She frowned. “Eventually,” she said. “But not until you've cleaned your teeth. And eaten something with a lot of mint. Or perhaps fennel.”

She reached her hand out and brushed the hair back from my forehand. “And had a very hot bath. You're quite smelly, you know. I'll fetch a servant to draw the water. I can't wait to tell the others—they'll be
so
glad you're awake.”

“How long was I out?”

“A week or more. We were quite worried at first. But then you started to snore, and talk in your sleep, and the doctor said that was a good sign, and you were probably just exhausted.”

“Have you been here the whole time? Sitting with me?”

“Every waking minute,” she said in a breathy, romantic voice.

“Really?”

She grinned, scrunching up her nose. “No. Not really. I poke my head in a couple of times a day. It was just luck I happened to be here now.”

She stood up.

“Do hurry with the bath, won't you? Everyone's dying to see you, but it really would be better if you were less grungy.” Her face brightened. “And it's almost lunchtime! Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Wonderful! You'll see them all then. We'll have a feast in your honor. Your uncle's here, you know.”

“He is?”

“Yes. Arrived the other day. He's staying with us.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “You'll never believe it . . . but there's a movement afoot to make him governor.”

“What?”

She laughed. “I know! It's madness! But the whole island's a complete mess, what with the sacking and the volcano and the mine shutting down, and people seem to think the firm hand of Commodore Longtrousers”—she rolled her eyes at the name—“is just what's needed to set things right.

“Of course, that's provided they can persuade him to take the job,” she continued. “He says he's retired. Keeps going on about his gardening. It's rather strange. Anyway . . .”

She started for the door.

“I'll tell Mother to hold lunch until you can join us. And I'll make sure there's jelly bread. But do hurry—I mean, if you're up for it.”

“I am. Definitely.”

“Smashing! Can't wait to get you on the croquet field. No one else is any competition. Kira's bored to tears by it. Guts keeps breaking the mallets. And your brother's abysmal. Plus he cheats.”

“My brother's here, too?”

“Of course. And I have to say, he's been on his absolute best behavior. Although that's not actually saying much, is it?”

“Is Mung okay?”

She smiled. “Mung's
such
a dear. He's been by twice to see you. And it's quite a long walk from the mine, you know.”

“The
mine
? What's he doing up there?”

“You don't . . . ? Oh, right—how could you know? It's actually worked out quite nicely. You see, to rebuild Blisstown, we need money. To get money, we need to run the silver mine. To run the silver mine, we need men willing to work it. And at the moment, the only ones who'll do the job are the field pirates from your old plantation. The good news for them is, it pays a lot better than picking ugly fruit.”

“Just make sure they don't spend the money on rum,” I warned her. “Or weapons.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “See, it's issues like this that make me think your uncle might be just the man to run things for a while.” She clapped her hands. “Right, then. Any more questions? Or should I see about your bath?”

I thought for a moment. “Just one—did the monkey pull through?”

“You mean Clem?” Millicent sighed. “He did. But I don't know how much longer he's going to last around here. Mother's at her wit's end with him—he's extremely disagreeable, and he poops on absolutely
everything.
”

LUNCH WAS WONDERFUL.
So was the rest of the day. And the day after that. And the week after that. And the month after that.

For the longest time, life was perfect.

Well, not perfect exactly. There were still ashes from the volcano all over the place. Even weeks later, I was still finding them in my ears whenever I washed up, and in my handkerchief when I blew my nose. Which was often, because the tiny bits of ash in the air caused no end of sneezing.

Even after the worst of the mess had been cleaned up, Blisstown—with its wrecked forts and burned-out buildings—continued to look like a face with half its teeth knocked out. The fancy clothes and fine furniture were slow to return to the shops, and the rich folk who used to strut down Heavenly Road seemed to have lost most of their swagger.

To my surprise, my uncle actually wound up taking the job as governor. He didn't seem thrilled about coming out of retirement, and he swore to quit the minute Sunrise could take care of itself. But in the meantime, he was exactly what the island needed. Now that the workers in the silver mine actually had to be paid, and were a lot fewer in number—not to mention that field pirates were nobody's idea of dependable employees—money didn't flow through town as effortlessly as it had when Pembroke was around. And most of it had to be pledged to fixing what was broken, so there wasn't much left over for anyone to get rich.

That made a few of the formerly well-off folks on Sunrise almost irrationally angry, and the squabbles would have been endless if my uncle hadn't been around to occasionally remind everyone in his calm but terrifying voice that if they didn't get along with each other and stop being so greedy, they'd have to answer to him.

It was dull, mostly thankless work, especially compared with captaining a pirate ship. But he seemed to like it, or at least be amused by it. When he came back to Cloud Manor at night, he'd tell Mrs. Pembroke stories about the more ridiculous-acting townspeople that made them both laugh until they were red in the face.

As far as I could tell, they enjoyed each other's company quite a bit.

That was definitely true of the rest of us. Guts, Kira, Millicent, and I spent our days sleeping late, eating well, playing croquet, and exploring the island.

Early on, we took a hike to the summit of Mount Majestic and wound up stumbling on the last unspoiled patch of land within a hundred miles. It was a hillside meadow, just above the timberline and nestled in the shadow of an almost vertical outcropping on the eastern face, exactly opposite Deadweather—so it had somehow managed to escape the rain of ash. There were a good five acres of lush green field up there, bursting with wildflowers.

Even better, we were the only ones who knew about it, except for one contented-looking mule we found munching wildflowers. He looked as surprised to see us as we were to see him.

“Smack!” Millicent yelled. “Don't you dare eat all those flowers!”

He couldn't have if he'd wanted to. There were too many of them. We took turns scratching his nose, and at the end of the day, he followed us home and wound up making a place for himself among the livestock at Cloud Manor.

We took him with us every time we went back to the meadow, which was often. We'd bring a picnic, then lounge on the grass and watch the clouds float by while Guts played guitar. I couldn't imagine a happier, more peaceful place on earth than that meadow.

It was even pleasant when Adonis came with us.

He was around a lot at the beginning. We did our best to be nice to him, and he did his best not to act like a bully or an oaf. But it was always a bit of a struggle. And he usually had Clem in tow, who didn't get along with anybody. Eventually, Mrs. Pembroke's patience with the monkey wore out, and she gently but firmly banished Clem to an unused outbuilding. After that, Adonis wound up spending a good bit of his time down there, and the rest of it working for my uncle.

Uncle Billy—which was what Adonis and I took to calling him, because we weren't supposed to utter the name
Burn Healy
for fear of scaring the townspeople, and “Commodore Longtrousers” just sounded silly—had noticed early on that Adonis wasn't quite fitting in. So he started asking Adonis to do little jobs here and there—running messages up to the mine, carting supplies around town, that sort of thing—and Adonis really took to it.

He got paid for the work, which he liked. But I think more than that, he liked the pat on the back my uncle always gave him for a job well done. It certainly seemed to improve his attitude—after a couple of weeks of it, Adonis didn't have to work nearly as hard at not acting like a thug.

Adonis's transformation came as a surprise—but not nearly as big as the one that greeted us when we returned to Cloud Manor late one afternoon. Mr. Dalrymple and Makaro were there, fresh off a ship from Edgartown. They were escorting a slightly overfed teenage girl who was so sullen and quiet that it took me a moment to recognize her as my sister, Venus.

Makaro had returned to the New Lands—he got a little choked up telling us about the reunion he'd witnessed when all two hundred of the freed slaves had finally made their way back to the Okalu remnant in the Cat's Teeth Mountains—and was settling back into tribal life when word arrived of a Moku raid at the edge of Okalu territory.

It turned out to be a rather strange sort of raid. The Moku hadn't fired a shot, but had simply retreated after depositing my sister, bound and gagged, at the base of an Okalu lookout post. The lookout who found her reported that before running off, the Moku had announced that my sister was the Dawn Princess, and the Okalu were to obey her every command.

The Okalu were skeptical of that from the beginning, and grew even more skeptical once they ungagged Venus and she started barking orders in Rovian—which only Makaro understood, and then just barely.

Pretty quickly, the Okalu decided the whole thing was some kind of Moku ruse designed to sap their morale. After some debate, they settled on shipping Venus off to Edgartown, with Makaro as her escort. From there, she made her way back to us.

Venus wasn't happy at all about the situation. It must have been quite a shock to go from being just Venus to the all-powerful Dawn Princess of Mata Kalun and then back to just Venus again.

We all tried to be nice to her, but it was a tall order, because she was every bit as disagreeable as Clem the monkey. She didn't poop on things, though, so Mrs. Pembroke was endlessly patient with her, and worked almost unimaginably hard at making Venus tolerable to be around. In the end, Venus wound up spending most of her time down the road at the Wallises', where the three younger children didn't mind letting her play queen with them as long as they got to pretend to sacrifice her at the end of the day. Which I guess for Venus was a fair trade.

We saw Cyril again just once, and from a distance. He was shopping with his mother on Heavenly Road. We waved to him, but he pretended not to see us, and by the time we entered the shop he'd ducked into, it was mysteriously empty. But Uncle Billy had dealings with Cyril's father, and one day he came home to report that the Whitmores had found a new boarding school in Rovia, and Cyril was on his way there to study political philosophy.

I felt a little sorry for him. There'd been no need to avoid us—we never talked about anything that had happened in the past, even among ourselves. For my part, I only felt the need to bring it up once, when I was alone with my uncle on the back porch of Cloud Manor. It was dusk, and we were watching the brilliant orange-red sunset over Mount Majestic.

“Did my mother . . . ?” I began.

Then I stopped. I wasn't sure how to ask the question.

He gave me a kind smile. “Go on.”

“Did she . . . and Reggie Pingry . . . ?”

I didn't have to say anything else. He knew what I was asking.

“They were engaged,” he said quietly. “And it might seem hard to believe, but at the time, I would have liked nothing more than to see them married. He was like a brother to me.”

My uncle watched my face for a reaction. I turned away and stared at the sunset.

“The thing about Reggie . . .” His voice trailed off. Then he started over.

“When you first met Roger Pembroke, what did you think of him?” he asked.

I thought back to that first day at the Peacock Inn—and the charming man who'd rescued my shabby family from a crowd of sneering rich folk and treated us to the most generous lunch I'd ever seen.

“I thought he was handsome, and clever, and kind,” I said. “And if he was a general, and I was a soldier, I would have followed him over a cliff without thinking twice.”