Fair Wind to Widdershins (6 page)

“Good lad,” said Esmeralda. “Now, find me the chart with Widdershins on it.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “We’re going to Widdershins, are we?” he asked.

“We are,” said Trundle, wrestling to get the tube open.

“Well, well,” mused Jack.

“Have you been there before?” asked Esmeralda.

“Not at all,” said Jack, shaking his head. “Quite the reverse, in fact. They don’t like musicians and entertainers there, no, sir, they certainly don’t. We’re far too trivial and lighthearted for the likes of them. They’re a serious bunch at the Worshipful Guild of Observators.”

“The worshipful
who
of
what
?” asked Trundle, picking up the charts that had scattered all over the bottom of the skyboat when the top had finally popped off the tube.

“You’ll see,” said Jack, nodding knowingly.

“Trundle!” There was a sudden urgency in Esmeralda’s voice. “You’ve got good eyes. What’s that coming up behind us?”

Trundle’s heart leaped up into his throat. He peered back the way they had come. Tenterwold was now just a greenish pebble in the distance—but shooting swift as an arrow from that same direction came a small black shape.

“It’s a bird,” Jack said, shading his eyes.

“A big bird,” agreed Trundle. “A big black bird.”

The shape grew as it drew closer.

“It’s a raven!” gasped Jack. “Gosh! And a right big one, too!”

As the black bird came closer, it rose high above them, soaring through the air with fast-beating wings. They stared up as it passed over them. Trundle could have sworn that a beady red eye peered malevolently down at them.

“Is it Captain Slaughter? Razorback’s bird?” he asked in a trembling voice, remembering the wicked raven companion to the pirate bosun of the
Iron Pig
.

“I don’t think so,” said Esmeralda.

“Thank heavens!” gasped Trundle.

“Don’t be so very thankful just yet,” warned Esmeralda. “Don’t forget, my aunt uses ravens as messengers—and that raven is heading the same way we are.”

Jack looked hollowly at them. “Meaning it will be in Widdershins ahead of us,” he said. “I don’t like the idea of that.”

“Neither do I,” said Esmeralda, her face becoming grim. “I think we’re going to have to be very careful when we come to the Worshipful Guild of Observators,” she added ominously. “Very careful indeed!”

“S
o,” asked Trundle as the
Thief in the Night
sailed into the glowing twilight of a warm summer evening, “what exactly is this guild of observers thing?” He took a bite of salami and looked enquiringly from Jack to Esmeralda.

“Observa-
tors
,” corrected Esmeralda. “Jack, pass me the honeypot.”

The tiller had been tied to keep them on course, and the three companions were sitting at their ease in the bows, having supper.

“The Guild of Observators are scientists,” Esmeralda explained. “They took over the palace of the ancient kings of Widdershins hundreds and hundreds of years ago, when the royal line died out.”

“And they’ve been there ever since,” added Jack. “Thinking important thoughts and scribbling important things in their books and constructing strange and wonderful devices and machines and mapping and plotting and charting and measuring everything.” He shook his head. “It’s a terrible lot of knowledge they have. It makes my head ache just to think of it.”

“The charts we’re using were plotted by the guild,” Esmeralda explained to Trundle. “They’re clever like that.” She spread honey on a slice of bread. “But,” she added with a rather self-satisfied smile, “they don’t have any magic. Only us Roamanys have
magic
.”

Mention of the Roamanys made Trundle uneasy. “What do you think your aunt is going to do now? She knows where we’re going—and she knows why.” His forehead wrinkled. “And what do you think that raven was sent to do?”

“To spy on us once we get to Widdershins, I suppose,” said Esmeralda. “We’ll need to keep our eyes open—and kill it if we get the chance!”

Trundle looked unhappily at her. He didn’t like the sound of
killing
at all. “I suppose she’ll send the pirates after us again,” he said.

“If she does, we’ll, outrun ’em,” Esmeralda declared. “The
Thief in the Night
is the fastest skyboat in the seven hundred skies of the Sundered Lands!” She smiled confidently at him. “Besides, I don’t care if every pirate in creation chases after us. This is our quest, and we’re going to see it through.”

“Good for you, Esmeralda!” cried Jack. “Three cheers for us! And when we’re done, I shall write an epic ballad about our adventures.” He reached for his brand-new rebec and bow and, sawing away on the strings, he began tentatively to sing. “
Two hedgehogs and a squirrel bold
…
tumty-tumty
…
crowns of old
…
They sailed across the azure sky
…”

“And ended up left in a ditch to die,” murmured Trundle.

Jack laughed and slapped him heartily on the back. “That won’t do at all!” he said. “It doesn’t even scan properly. No, no! What rhymes with sky? Fly, sigh, fry, try. That’s it!” He started bowing again. “
They sailed across the azure sky, their fortune and their fate to try!
This is going to be great. I need to write it down.”

Trundle sighed as he handed over a pencil and some paper. Look on the bright side, he told himself. In years to come, people might sit around the fire and sing “The Ballad of the Grisly Death of Trundle Boldoak at the Hands of Evil Pirates and a Wicked Roamany Aunty.”

It would be nice to be famous.

He sighed again. It would be even nicer to be alive and safe at home!

“Impressive, eh?” said Jack.

Trundle nodded. Jack was right. This was very impressive indeed.

It was a bright new morning, and the
Thief in the Night
was hanging with tethered sails above the island of Widdershins. Except, as Trundle could clearly see, Widdershins was not just
one
island—it was a collection of dozens and dozens of islands, some as big as towns, others only large enough to hold one or two buildings. The floating islands were held together by arched wooden bridges and by iron walkways and chain-link catwalks and ropewalks and overpasses. Spires and belfries and towers and steeples thrust up into the sky. Narrow tip-tilted streets and stairways wound up and down and in and out of the tightly packed buildings. People in hooded habits scuttled about as though intent on important business.

But as Trundle gazed down in awe, his eyes were drawn irresistibly to the huge island that formed the heart of the age-old city. It rose up above all the other islands like a mountain, steep sided, craggy, and rugged. Here and there, windswept trees and bushes pushed out from between the buildings that clung to its sheer sides like limpets to a rock. Up and up it soared to a great palace of rearing walls and time-worn battlements and keeps and halls and towers and turrets, topped off by an ornamented citadel from the apex of which rose a lofty steeple of gold that flashed in the sunlight.

“And that, my friend,” said Esmeralda, “is where the Guild of Observators hangs out.”

“It’s amazing,” breathed Trundle. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Face it, Trundle,” said Esmeralda. “Before you met me you’d never seen anything, period!”

“Except cabbages,” added Jack with a wide smile.

“Yes,” Trundle agreed, turning away from the awesome sight. “Many a cabbage. So what’s the plan? What do we do now?”

“We make landfall and go chat with the big boss,” said Esmeralda. “We’ll show him the crown and the key. He’s bound to know what the key is for. I’m betting it fits a big golden chest that will have the Iron Crown sitting inside it on a purple velvet cushion.”

Jack shook his head. “My guess is it’ll be the key to a long-forgotten room at the top of a deserted tower.” His voice lowered. “We’ll open the door and we’ll find a throne all covered in spiders’ webs … and sitting on the throne will be a skeleton dressed in rotting rags—the skeleton of the last king of Widdershins. And the Iron Crown will still be on his fleshless, hollow-eyed skull. And when we try to take it, the dead king will speak, putting a terrible curse on us.” Jack laughed. “That’ll be exciting, won’t it?”

“That’s all we need,” said Trundle. “To be cursed!”

“No one’s getting cursed,” said Esmeralda. “Come on, you two. Let’s get busy. And remember, keep your eyes peeled for any ravens. Aunt Millie’s messenger could be here already, and we don’t want to be taken by surprise.”

Mooring the
Thief in the Night
on an outer island, they made their way through the maze of old streets, across rickety bridges, up narrow twisting stairways, along deep-set alleys and passages, heading always inward and upward.

Trundle found Widdershins even more imposing and grand from close up, but he began to notice something else as well. The whole place was falling to pieces. Here and there, entire buildings had collapsed into rubble, and many another old edifice was being propped up by wooden scaffolding or held together by great iron staples or by loops of thick, tarred rope.

Widdershins was still awesome, but Trundle began to find it a little sad as well.

At last they found themselves standing on a wide cobbled courtyard in front of massive wooden gates, gazing up at writing etched into the gray stone and picked out in faded gold leaf.

COLLEGE OF

THE WORSHIPFUL

GUILD OF OBSERVATORS

HIGHMOST CHANCELLOR:

AUGUSTUS BROCKWISE,

M.SC. M.PHIL. M.ENG. PH.D.

Nailed to the doorpost, alongside a hanging chain, was a scrap of parchment.

For admittance, pull chain once and WAIT.

A guard will come
.

And underneath that, a scribbled note.

Don’t pull more than once, or you’ll be in for it!

Esmeralda marched up to the bell pull and gave it a hefty tug. A gloomy bell rang dully from behind the walls.

They waited.

Esmeralda folded her arms and leaned against the wall. Trundle walked nervously up and down, the backpack containing the crown and the key slung over his shoulder. Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and whistled cheerily to himself.

Nothing happened.

Esmeralda stood and stared at the bell pull, her fists on her hips. “If they don’t answer the door by the time I count to ten…,” she began, but she was interrupted by a small side door creaking open.

A sleepy-eyed fox in an elaborate but shoddy uniform stepped out. He had a dented crested helmet on his head and a slightly bent halberd in one fist. He blinked at the three companions and wiped a sleeve across his nose.

“Whaddya want?” he asked.

“My name is Esmeralda Lightfoot,” announced Esmeralda. “And these are my trusted companions, Trundle Boldoak and Jack Nimble. We have urgent business to discuss with the Highmost Chancellor, so be a good fellow and let us in.”

“Wot biznizz?” asked the guard, frowning down at her.

“That’s our affair,” Esmeralda declared. “Kindly alert your master to our presence.”

“No tell me biznizz, no geddin,” mumbled the guard, turning and ducking back through the little postern door.

“Now look here, you!” exclaimed Esmeralda.

The guard turned and regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Wot?”

Trundle had the feeling that Esmeralda’s temper was likely to do more harm than good. He stepped forward, pulling the Crystal Crown and the iron key out of the backpack.

“Look!” he said to the guard. “We’ve found these! We want to show them to the Highmost Chancellor. I’m sure he’ll be interested.”

The guard peered at him. “Wossis, then?”

“It’s the Crystal Crown of the Badger Lords of Old,” said Jack. “We’re on a quest to find all of them. We’re hoping the Highmost Chancellor will be able to help.”

“I’ll arx ’im,” mumbled the guard, and before Trundle or Jack or Esmeralda could say a word or make a move or do anything to prevent it, he leaned forward, grabbed the crown and the key out of Trundle’s hands, and disappeared back through the doorway.