The Stone Giant (34 page)

Captain Appleby had winked at her in a fatherly way. She’d see reason, he knew. She was a bright girl, considering that she wasn’t an elf, and she wouldn’t mind spending an hour or two below, would she?

Yes, she would, as it turned out. She’d asked where they were bound, and he’d grinned and winked again, as if his winking explained heaps and heaps of things and made everything just fine. She hadn’t any choice, really, and below deck she’d gone. She hadn’t been there an hour when a little elf arrived with a plate of food, and had whispered to her that the captain was a horrible evil elf, who intended, in fact, to take her far away – to the moon, he said. Forever. The elf, whose name was Boggy, had taken pity on her and she’d pretended to overcome him and had tied him into a chair and had fled, but hadn’t been gone minutes before there was a hue and cry and she’d taken refuge in the woods. The elves had gone round along the; meadow, it seemed, and would have gotten her, too, if it hadn’t been for the appearance of the troll. Then she’d run into Escargot, or rather he’d run into her, and here they were, eating fish and fooling themselves that there was something they could do.

Escargot shook his head. ‘Better you’d gone to the moon,’ he said with a sigh. ‘Captain Appleby was right. That’s the only way. Boggy the elf isn’t to be trusted. He was acting out of spite for the captain, not out of gallantry.’

Leta shrugged. ‘It doesn’t much matter, does it? I’m not going to the moon with a shipload of silly elves.’

Escargot pondered for a bit. ‘I might just pay a visit to those elves, myself,’ he said. ‘I can pretend to bargain for you with them. I don’t know exactly what I’ll ask for, but as far as they know I’m just an adventurer. There’s got to be another way round this, seeing as you won’t live on the moon. I might be able to get onto something by talking to Captain Appleby.’

‘And what am I to do?’

‘Wait here.’

‘I’ll wait,’ she said after a moment, ‘but I’m a little tired of all this bargaining, of decisions being made by people who haven’t consulted me and don’t care to. I’m tired of waiting, too. I’m smart enough to know that I haven’t got anything better to suggest, but if something occurs to me while you’re gone, I won’t be here when you return.’

Escargot hesitated. ‘That’s fair enough,’ he said. ‘I ... I hope you haven’t mistaken me in this business. Captain Appleby told me that he was intent on saving you from the dwarf, but that he wouldn’t be doing it for your sake.
‘I’m
doing it for your sake, though. I just thought I’d tell you that.’

‘Then you’re a fool, aren’t you?’ she said, standing up from the table and stepping across to gaze out through the ports. The sun’s rays still slanted through the green water outside, and in the hazy distance fish glided past, going about their business, caring nothing for the troubles of elves and giants. She turned when she heard Escargot leaving, and she smiled at him and said, ‘I think you’re a very nice sort of a fool, though.’ And Escargot grinned at her and strode off down the companionway like a man with a purpose, already wrestling in his mind with Captain Appleby and with Uncle Helstrom, thinking now that he might tweak both their noses before this business was through.

Escargot stepped along through the shallows, carrying his shoes and with his pantlegs rolled. He’d hidden his rubber suit and helmet beneath dense bushes some quarter mile downriver, having taken a circuitous route into shore in order to throw any watching elves off the track. The sun shone warm and cheerful in the early afternoon sky, as if it were determined at last to brighten the landscape and chase off shadows. He could almost have convinced himself that it was a sign of some sort, that it marked an end to the dark, enchanted clouds that had hovered over the entire Uncle Helstrom affair for the past weeks. Escargot grinned to think that Leta’s parting words could have had such an effect on him, and he began to whistle merrily and out of tune, as he usually did, thinking to himself that it was high time that Theophile Escargot made his presence officially known.

He would watch no more from the wings. He would vault onto the stage and announce his presence. He had, for the first time, a real interest in the piece, was no longer being dragged about against his will. Captain Appleby had been right, no doubt. This was an affair that was beyond his understanding. But what of it? Captain Appleby’s understanding wasn’t all that spacious either, was it? And the dwarf, certainly, was acting out of some sort of greed, out of self-interest. Well Escargot would have a part in the drama himself, and not as a second, either. It was top billing from this point on, he thought, skipping a stone out over the smooth river, and he tramped around the edge of the cove, watching the
Nora Dawn
appear from behind the thick trees.

They’d be frantic. They wouldn’t have any idea where Leta had gotten off to. The dwarf, in fact, might have her at that moment. They’d expect earthquakes, awakening giants, heaven knew what sorts of cataclysms. Escargot would stroll in among them, bowing. He’d pause to light his pipe and to puff on it for a moment with the air of a man who has studied things out and wants to phrase things particularly carefully in order not to be misunderstood by a precocious, but, perhaps, slightly scatterbrained audience. He stood for a moment, wiggling his toes in the sand, his arms crossed, trying to think up a really remarkable bit of something to impress Captain Appleby with. A quotation would be nice – something profound. A snatch of verse from Ashbless, perhaps.

He found himself, abruptly, looking at the galleon through the crossed cords of a fishing net. He shouted and flung his arms up, but they were borne back down to his sides and he was suddenly surrounded by a very serious lot of elves, including Collier and Boggy. He felt like a fool, with his nose pressed through the mesh of the net and a dozen elves grappling at him as if they expected him to cut up rough. He squinted through the net at Collier and said, ‘I was just coming along to see you fellows.’

‘That’s exactly what you’re doing,’ Collier replied staunchly.

This net, then ...’

‘No trouble!’ the elf shouted, cocking his head at Escargot.

‘Not a bit. Trouble from me? I’ve got to talk to Captain Appleby.’

‘Tie him up!’ Boggy shouted enthusiastically. ‘He’s a bad one. He didn’t do what we told him.’

‘Mr Bogger,’ Collier said, giving Boggy a look.

‘Well he didn’t, did he? We told him to go on back. That’s what the captain said. The Inn at Lanternwick Street. He was to wait there. And here he is. I told you he was a rum one, but no one listened. And here he is, come back with an eye to the girl. It was him that conked me on the head and let her loose. That’s what I think.’

‘Silence, Mr Bogger!’ Collier shouted, grimacing at the elf, who at once fell silent but continued to nod and to raise his eyebrows and glare at Escargot until Collier turned away. Then Boggy crossed his eyes and thrust his tongue out.

‘Bring him along,’ commanded Collier, at once setting out down the beach.

Escargot walked along, encumbered by his net, happy that Leta, at least, wouldn’t see him in such a costume. As a sort of lark he wiggled his hand up to his coat, pried his pipe and tobacco out, and set about filling his pipe, which, if he twisted and turned it just right, he could push through the net. Boggy insisted immediately that Escargot was trying to ‘burn his way out,’ but Collier apparently couldn’t see the harm in it, for he told Boggy once again to hold his tongue, and they led Escargot, net, pipe, and all onto the ship and into a low cabin where Captain Appleby sat glowering at the wall, apparently lost in deep thoughts.

Escargot sat down, working his hand out from under the net. He took the pipe from his mouth and said good day to the captain. Captain Appleby looked up slowly and nodded. He blinked twice very slowly and said, ‘Why are you wearing a net?’

‘That was my doing, sir,’ offered Collier.

Captain Appleby stared at him. ‘Remove it, then. I won’t speak to a man wearing a net. I don’t care who he is.’

Collier helped drag the net off, then bowed himself out of the room, taking the net with him and grinning weakly. ‘Where is the girl?’ asked the captain.

Escargot widened his eyes and shrugged.

‘One of my men saw you on the meadow this morning when the girl eluded us. It was your doing. Don’t deny it, man.’

Escargot shrugged again, by way of answer, wondering idly how a G. Smithers character would react. Dignity, of course, was called for, as was cleverness. There would be a bit of verbal fencing here; Escargot could see that. He smiled at the captain. ‘I won’t deny that I’ve had a hand in the girl’s escape.’

‘A hand, is it! You’ve sold us all, sir. That’s what you’ve done – hands and feet and all, right up to our noses and with our hats thrown in on top. You’ve quite likely had a hand in the girl’s death, is what you’ve had. She’d be aloft in the heavens now, if it weren’t for your getting your hand in. She’d live in comfort, in luxury, forever, in a place where the dwarf has no power. She’d have been beyond his grasp. Where is she now?’

Escargot shook his head. There must be another way around this business. She won’t go to the moon. She’s said as much. She’ll ...’

‘The moon! Who have you spoken to? If it’s Boggy, by heaven I’ll tie him into the crosstrees until he weeps us a river broad enough to float home on.’

‘Not a bit of it. I’ve got sources, as I’ve said. Have you seen one of these?’ And Escargot pulled out the truth charm, tossing it up into the air and catching it so that the eye carved into the stone seemed to be peering at Captain appleby.

‘Of course I’ve seen one of those! They were given away at penny carnivals for years. Are you waving it around because you suppose me to be lying, or because you’re particularly fascinated by a child’s toy? If it’s the truth you want, I’ll give it to you. Soon, very soon, the dwarf will enchant the sleeping giants out of their age-old slumber, and he’ll do it by
killing the girl!
Can you grasp that? There’ll be mayhem that you can barely imagine, and your marbles and your truth charms and the girl will be swept beyond your grasp forever. They’ll pluck your undersea device out of the river and comb their beards with it!’ Captain Appleby paused and glared at Escargot, who couldn’t tell whether he was blustering because he was honestly worked up or whether he was merely trying to be impressive. Escargot started to speak, but the captain interrupted him abruptly and asked again. ‘Where’s the girl?’

‘Aboard the submarine,’ Escargot replied without being able to stop himself. ‘That is to say ...’

‘That she’s aboard the submarine.’ Captain Appleby grinned at him. ‘Put way the charm, Mr Escargot. Better yet, throw it into the river. No man wants the truth too often.’

Escargot, smiling weakly, put the charm away. He wouldn’t throw it into the river, but he wouldn’t be quite so hasty in pulling it out of its pouch either. And he’d have to be a bit more on his guard than that, or Captain Appleby would get round him in a moment. ‘Of course she’s in the submarine. That’s what I’ve come here to tell you. How can she save herself? That’s the problem, isn’t it?’

‘In the submarine, do you say? Below the surface? If she’s under water she might be safe. Enchantment doesn’t travel in deep water as well as it might. The witch mightn’t even be able to find her.’

‘Ah. Well, yes, she
is
in the submarine. I thought it best to keep her out of sight, you know, until I’d talked to you. She’s thirty feet down – safe from goblins, and safe, as you say, from enchantment. Perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement here. I’ll say once again that she won’t go to the moon. I’ll kill the dwarf myself to keep her here.’

‘Huh!’ grunted Appleby in a tone that made it seem as if he thought it unlikely that Escargot could accomplish such a thing. ‘I don’t understand talk of striking bargains. The long and the short of it is that if he gets hold of the girl there’ll be trouble, and all the bluff talk in the world won’t have the slightest effect on it. Thirty feet of water, do you say?’

Escargot looked at him warily. ‘At least.’

‘Come now. Is it thirty feet, or is it more? If she’s too shallow she might as well be sitting on the shore waiting for them.’

‘Thirty-six feet, then.’

‘Mr Collier!’ shouted the captain, thumping his fist on the table. The cabin door opened and Collier stuck his head in. ‘Take her out fifty yards, Mr Collier, and cast anchor. Send all hands into the rigging. First man who spots the submarine gets triple pay. Except Bogger. He gets double pay, and if he don’t like it he can cry. She’s down six fathoms – should be easy enough to spot in this sunlight.’

‘Wait a moment!’ shouted Escargot, leaping to his feet.

‘Wait nothing! If this man interferes, lock him in the hold. Lock him in the hold anyway. Put Boggy in there with him. Don’t let Boggy into the rigging or there’ll be nothing but trouble. And tell Boggy that if this fellow escapes, Boggy’d better go with him.’

‘Aye, aye, Cap’n,’ said Collier, shutting the door. Moments later there was shouting on deck and hurrying about, and then the door opened again and six elves pushed through with drawn pistols, ushering Escargot out into the sunlight briefly and then down the companionway below decks. He found himself finally in a cramped cabin lit by sunlight slanting through three tiny portholes along the starboard side. There was a chair in the cabin and a little table with a book on it, as if the book had been left there to entertain captives.
Windowledge Gardening for the Homebody
it was called, and was full of smudgy illustrations penned by an artist who might have been cross-eyed. Escargot thumbed through it and then put it down, wondering whether they were under sail and drifting out onto the river. He shoved his face up against a porthole and watched. They hadn’t even gotten underway yet. Captain Appleby assumed, quite likely, that there was no very considerable rush, as long as Escargot was safe below. Leta, he’d assume, would wait for Escargot’s return. The more he thought about it, the less he liked the idea of being a prisoner of the elves.