The Voyage to Magical North (6 page)

 

C
HAPTER
6

The world, as everyone knows, is made up of eight oceans. The Columba, the Agena, the Andromeda, the Dragon's Head, the Gemini (which is actually a pair of identical seas), the Perilous, the Atlas, and the Western Ocean, of which little is known. The Columba is the most populated, with many large islands, including Morning. The twin Gemini Seas in the north are the greatest source of starshell. Beyond the Gemini Seas, there is nothing, only a barren plain of ice where monsters roam. Or so everyone believes.

(
From
ALDEBRAN
BOSWELL
'
S
BOOK
OF
THE
WORLD)

Brine felt like a sword had gone through her. Cassie couldn't be serious—but one look at Cassie told Brine that she was. This was exactly the reason people were afraid of pirates. From the moment Brine and Peter had set eyes on the
Onion
, it was inevitable that they'd end up at the bottom of the sea or as prisoners somewhere. They should have known.

“This isn't fair,” said Brine. Her voice shook. “You said you'd let us go.”

Cassie kept her grip on Brine's arm tight. “I might have lied a little. Sorry.” She didn't sound sorry at all. “Baron, do we have a deal?”

Kaitos wiped a trickle of sweat from the side of his face. “You have a stay of execution, that is all. Come with me.” He swung round and strode away. Cassie eyed the waiting guards, then nodded to the rest of the crew, let go of Peter and Brine, and followed the baron across the sand.

No chance to run. Ewan Hughes nudged Brine and Peter along together. “Looks like none of us are going anywhere soon,” Ewan murmured in Brine's ear. “Best do as he says.”

Something in his voice suggested he wasn't entirely happy with the situation. Brine looked back and opened her mouth to speak, but Ewan shook his head and hurried her on, frowning.

After a few minutes, the sand leveled out into a path between trees. Brine shrugged her shoulders, trying to unstick her shirt from her back. Her mind tumbled with thoughts. She wondered if the baron had a library, because if he did, it might not be too bad living here. She wondered about running, but Ewan Hughes was right behind her and guards had moved in to march on either side. Most of all she wondered if she could get away with murdering Cassie.

The baron's tower came into view above the treetops.

“Is it just me,” asked Peter, staring up at it, “or is that tower leaning?”

Kaitos stopped dead. The guards all put their hands on their swords.

“You've added another story since last time, haven't you?” Cassie called cheerfully.

A faint look of pride passed over the baron's features. “I might have made a modification or two. It's all very well having a thousand servants, but they have to live somewhere.”

“Whatever you do, don't say the
L
word again,” whispered Ewan as they walked on. “Yes, the tower leans—the baron built it too high—but you mustn't talk about it. He beheaded the last person who pointed it out.”

Ewan could have told them that sooner, Brine thought, before Peter had opened his big mouth. She watched Baron Kaitos uneasily. Ewan was probably joking, but she couldn't be sure, and she didn't want to take the chance that he wasn't.

Finally, the trees opened onto a grassy slope that ran down to the tower. A set of high gates led into a shaded courtyard. A servant ran up with a tray of drinks as they entered. The baron took one and drained it in a single long gulp. Brine watched jealously, her own mouth full of grit.

“This way,” ordered Kaitos, leading them into the tower. He ushered them into a room that was perfectly square and big enough for all of them to sit down and still be surrounded by guards. The only furniture was a table in the center.

The sudden relief from the sun made Brine dizzy. She sat on the floor.

Cassie walked to the table and leaned against it. “Well,” she said, “we're here. What now?”

The baron's mouth twitched, as if he was trying to smile without letting the rest of his face know about it. “Wait and see.”

He gave a mocking little bow, turned on his heel, and went out. The door swung shut behind him, trapping the edge of his cloak. The flap of black cloth wriggled, then disappeared with a force that Brine was sure must have torn it.

“Well,” said Cassie, “that could have been worse.”

Brine glared at her. She wanted a wash and a drink, and she wasn't sure she was going to get either ever again. “You tricked us,” she said. “You said we could buy passage home from here.”

“You probably can,” agreed Cassie. She picked at the edge of the table. “Look, you're nice kids, but the
Onion
is not a place for children. This way, we all win. I get back on the baron's good side, and you two get to live here on a nice big island. The baron's not a bad man underneath all the bluster. Work hard and stay out of trouble, and you'll be fine.”

“What definition of
fine
are you using, exactly?” snapped Brine.

Cassie looked straight at her. “The one that means you're still alive when you could be dead and drowned.”

Brine started up. Peter grabbed her wrist. “Brine, leave it.”

“Leave it?”
She should have known Peter would give in without so much as a whimper. The pirates shuffled their feet and avoided her gaze. Trudi turned crimson.

Ewan Hughes cleared his throat. “Cassie's right, Brine. You're far better off here than with us. You've only seen what it's like on the
Onion
when the wind is good and there's plenty of food and little work to do. You wait until we sail into a storm or we're becalmed for a week with nothing to eat. You'd soon change your mind. Stay here, and you'll have a home.”

“A home?” Brine shoved Peter away from her. “Some home, stuck here with Seaweed-Brain.”

“You think I want to be stuck here with
you
?” Peter shot back.

“Kids—” murmured Cassie.

“Shut up,” they both shouted.

They broke off as the door opened and Baron Kaitos strode back in. Everybody stood up. The baron had taken off his cloak, but his face still glistened with sweat, though it was far cooler in here than outside. A muscle in his cheek jumped as if he was nervous. Brine stared so hard at him that she almost missed seeing the man who followed him.

He wasn't hard to miss. He was not much taller and not much shorter than anyone else, his hair was the color of ordinary sand, his face was so utterly forgettable it was almost remarkable. Only his eyes held Brine's attention, and it took a moment for her to work out why. They were an entirely unexceptional shade of mid-brown and rimmed with nothing. The man had no eyelashes.

The baron cleared his throat, and Brine's gaze jumped back to him. “Allow me to introduce Bartimius Boswell,” he said. “Great-grandson of the scientist and explorer Aldebran Boswell.”

*   *   *

Boswell's great-grandson. Brine gulped and sat down slowly. No wonder the baron had been acting so strangely. The descendant of the most famous man in the world was here in the room with her.

“Never heard of him,” said Bill Lightning cheerfully.

Something dark flickered in Bartimius Boswell's lashless eyes. Brine felt a moment's unease, which disappeared before she could wonder what had caused it.

This ordinary man was the descendant of the greatest scientist and explorer who'd ever lived, and he was here, standing right in front of her. She felt like her heart was about to explode. She wanted to say something—tell him she'd read all Boswell's books, that she wanted to be an explorer like him—but she knew that whatever she said would come out wrong.

She kicked Peter, who was grinning at her, and watched as Boswell patted several pockets and drew out a square of yellow cloth. He held it in both hands for a count of ten seconds, then bent over the table and smoothed it out. If it was a ploy to get everyone's attention, it worked. The pirates all shifted forward. Brine got up and joined them at the table.

She was looking at a map, and not a particularly impressive one. The eight oceans were sketched in blue ink and a scattering of different-shaped spots showed the positions of the islands. Morning was marked; the Minutes cluster, unsurprisingly, was not. On the western side, a curling sprawl of letters said
Here Be Dragons
, and at the top the letters
MN
stood above a mark that looked like someone had tried to draw a ship and gotten it wrong.

“What does ‘Here Be Dragons' mean?” asked Brine. Her nose itched.

“It means we don't know what's there, of course.” Boswell gave her a sharp look. “I thought all sailors knew that.”

She met his gaze without blinking, then spoiled the effect by sneezing. “I'm new at it.”

“And the rest of us are getting impatient,” added Cassie, reaching for the map.

Boswell slid it away from her. “Then I won't keep you. You all know the stories of Orion, I assume?”

Everyone nodded. Who in the world hadn't heard of Orion? The first and greatest sailor. The hero who stole fire from the stars and drove back the oceans of the world to create the first islands. If the stories were to be believed—and Brine knew they weren't—Orion had sailed around the whole world, fought a thousand monsters, and married a thousand wives. Then, at the end of his life, he'd turned his ship north and sailed off the world altogether and up into the sky, where his ship became the first-ever constellation, a guide to all those who sailed the eight oceans.

“It's just a story,” Cassie said, but her gaze was fixed on the map on the table.

Boswell's eyebrows rose. “Just a story? It is
the
story. The first tale ever to be told when people were looking out to sea and wondering what might be over the horizon. Aldebran Boswell once said all stories have to start with a grain of truth, and the greatest story of all must surely carry the greatest truth.” His gaze took in the whole room. “That is why, one hundred years ago, Aldebran Boswell set sail to re-create Orion's journey to the top of the world. He was never seen again.”

The room was silent. Brine sat still, barely daring to breathe. So that was how Boswell had died. None of Magus's books had said anything about the end of his life. She'd always assumed he'd retired from science and died naturally of old age.

Trudi yawned loudly.

“It might have escaped your notice,” said Cassie, “but we're pirates, not scientists. Do you want to get on to the bit where there's a big stash of stolen gold?”

Boswell's face creased in annoyance.

Brine wanted to hit Cassie. She'd spoiled things again, upsetting Boswell just when they were getting to the interesting part of the tale. “No one would sail to the top of the world just because of a story,” she said quickly. “Your great-grandfather was looking for something.” Cassie frowned at her and tried to push her out of the way, but Brine stood her ground. She'd been pushed around enough for one day. “I'm right, aren't I?”

Slowly, Boswell took his hands off the map and nodded. “You are quite correct: He was looking for something. Somewhere, to be exact. Even pirates should know that there are three north poles—geographical, magnetic, and magical.” He pointed to the top of the map. “This is what Aldebran Boswell gave his life to find. Magical North—the single most concentrated point of magic anywhere. It lies in the ice plains at the top of the world, where the sun only sets once a year. It is guarded by a monster a thousand times more terrible than the Dreaded Great Sea Beast of the South, and it is surrounded by the Sea of Sighs, where the wind howls like the souls of the dead and men have drowned themselves rather than listen. Only a madman would attempt such a voyage—a madman or a hero.”

Nobody spoke. The room seemed to have turned colder. Boswell rested his hands on the edge of the table, his long fingers splayed out. “But once a year,” he said, “on the thirty-first day of the month of Balistes—Orion's Day—the sun sets over the ice plains. And if, during this annual twilight, you stand on the exact point of Magical North, you will be able to see the whole world. Imagine it—everything that exists spread out before you like your own personal map. You could look up the locations of all the treasure of the world, or all the starshell. You could see your own past if you wanted to—maybe even your own future. Great-grandfather was unclear on that.”

Brine couldn't take her eyes off the map. The letters
MN
stood out at the top like bruises.

Boswell looked around at them all. “Imagine it,” he repeated softly. “Imagine what you could do with that knowledge.”

“Magical North is just another story,” said Ewan. “It doesn't exist.”

“Aldebran Boswell would disagree,” said Boswell, “and he was a far cleverer man than you'll ever be. But if the thought of unlimited knowledge doesn't tempt you, think about this: Boswell's writings speak of a vast treasure trove in the northern plains. Gold, diamonds, rubies. More riches than you can possibly count, just sitting there waiting for you.”

He paused to let them think about this. The pirates all stared at the map while trying to pretend they were looking somewhere else. Ewan Hughes crossed his arms and frowned. “What you're saying is, all we have to do is follow a man out of a legend to a place that doesn't exist, pile the ship with imaginary gold, and Bob's your oyster.”

Baron Kaitos stepped forward. “I'm willing to make you an offer,” he said, evidently deciding he'd been quiet long enough. “I will restock the
Onion
, taking in return the servants you brought with you today. Upon successful completion of the voyage, I will pay you a chest of silver plus one-fourth part of whatever treasure you find at Magical North.”