The Appointment
Later that night the Apprentice escaped through the cat tunnel.
Bert, who still had all the instincts of a cat, liked to go wandering at night, and Aunt Zelda would leave the door on a one-way CharmLock. This allowed Bert to go out, but nothing to come in. Not even Bert. Aunt Zelda was very careful about stray Brownies and Marsh Wraiths.
So, when everyone except for the Apprentice had fallen asleep and Bert had decided to go out for the night, the Apprentice thought that he would follow her. It was a tight squeeze, but the Apprentice, who was as thin as a snake and twice as wriggly, wormed his way through the narrow space. As he did so, the Darke Magyk which clung to his robes DisEnchanted the cat tunnel. Soon his flustered face emerged from the tunnel into the chill night air.
Bert met him with a sharp peck on the nose, but the Apprentice was not deterred. He was much more scared of getting stuck in the cat tunnel, with his feet still inside the house and his head on the outside, than he was of Bert. He had a feeling that no one would be in much of a hurry to pull him out if he did get stuck. So he ignored the angry duck and, with a huge effort, wriggled free.
The Apprentice made straight for the landing stage, closely pursued by Bert, who tried to grab his collar again, but this time the Apprentice was ready for her. Angrily, he swatted her away, sending her crashing to the ground and badly bruising a wing.
The Magog was lying full length in the canoe, sleeping while it digested all fifty-six Shield Bugs. The Apprentice warily stepped over it. To his relief the creature did not stir - digestion was something a Magog took very seriously. The smell of Magog slime caught in the back of the Apprentice's throat, but he picked up the slime-covered paddle and was soon away down the Mott, heading out toward the maze of winding channels that crisscrossed the Marram Marshes and would take him to the Deppen Ditch.
As he left the cottage behind and traveled into the wide moonlit expanse of the marshes, the Apprentice began to feel a little uneasy. With the Magog sleeping, the Apprentice felt horribly unprotected and he remembered all the terrifying stories he had heard about the marshes at night. He paddled the canoe as quietly as he was able to, afraid of disturbing something that may not want to be disturbed. Or, even worse, something that might be waiting to be disturbed. All around him he could hear the nighttime noises of the marsh. He heard the muffled underground shrieking of a pack of Brownies as they pulled an unsuspecting Marsh Cat down into the Quake Ooze. And then there was a nasty scrabbling and squelching noise as two large Water Nixies tried to clamp their sucker pads onto the bottom of the canoe and chew their way into it, but they slipped off soon enough thanks to the remnants of the Magog's slime.
Sometime after the Water Nixies had dropped off, a Marsh Moaner appeared. Although it was only a small wisp of white mist, it gave off a dank smell that reminded the Apprentice of the burrow in DomDaniel's hideout. The Marsh Moaner sat itself down behind the Apprentice and started tunelessly singing the most mournful and irritating song the Apprentice had ever heard. The tune whirled around and around inside his head - "Weerrghh-derr'waaaaah-dooooooooo ... Weerrghh-derr-waaaah-dooooooooo ... Weerrghh-derr-waaaah-dooooooooo..." - until the Apprentice felt he might go mad.
He tried to bat the Moaner away with his paddle, but it went straight through the wailing scrap of mist, unbalanced the canoe and nearly sent the Apprentice tumbling out into the dark water. And still the awful tune went on, a little mockingly now that the Moaner knew it had the Apprentice's attention: "Weerrghh-derr-waaaah-dooooooooo ... Weerghh-derr-waaaah-doooooooo ... oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo..."
"Stop it!" yelled the Apprentice, unable to stand the noise a moment longer. He stuffed his fingers into his ears and started singing in a voice loud enough to shut out the ghastly tune. "I'm not listening, I'm not listening, I'm not listening," the Apprentice chanted at the top of his lungs while the triumphant Moaner swirled around the canoe, pleased with its night's work. It usually took the Marsh Moaner much longer to reduce a Young One to a gibbering wreck, but tonight it had struck lucky. Mission completed, the Marsh Moaner flattened out into a thin sheet of mist and wafted off to spend the rest of the night contentedly hanging above its favorite bog.
The Apprentice paddled doggedly on, no longer caring about the succession of Marsh Wraiths, Bogle Bugs and a very tempting array of Marshfire that danced about his canoe for hours. By then the Apprentice did not mind what anything did, as long as it didn't sing.
As the sun rose over the far reaches of the Marram Marshes, the Apprentice realized he had become hopelessly lost. He was in the middle of a featureless expanse of marshland that all looked the same to him. He paddled wearily onward, not knowing what else to do, and it was midday before he reached a wide, straight stretch of water that looked as though it actually went somewhere, rather than petering out into yet another soggy morass. Exhausted, the Apprentice turned into what was the upper reaches of the Deppen Ditch and slowly headed toward the river. His discovery of the giant Marsh Python, lurking at the bottom of the Ditch and trying to straighten itself out, hardly even bothered the Apprentice. He was far too tired to care. He was also very determined. He had an appointment with DomDaniel, and this time he wasn't going to mess things up. Very soon the Queenling would be sorry. They would all be sorry. Particularly the duck.
That morning, back at the cottage, no one could believe that the Apprentice had managed to squeeze out through the cat tunnel.
"I'd have thought his head was too big to fit through it," Jenna said scornfully.
Nicko went out to search the island, but he was soon back again. "The Hunter's canoe is gone," he said, "and that was a fast boat. He'll be far away by now."
"We've got to stop him," said Boy 412, who knew only too well just how dangerous a boy like the Apprentice could be, "before he tells anyone where we are, which he will do as soon as he can."
And so Jenna, Nicko and Boy 412 took Muriel Two and set off in pursuit of the Apprentice. As the pale spring sun rose over the Marram Marshes, sending long glancing shadows across the mires and bogs, the ungainly Muriel Two took them through the maze of cuts and ditches. She traveled slow and steady, far too slow for Nicko, who knew how quickly the Hunter's canoe must have covered the same distance. Nicko kept a watchful eye out for any sign of the sleek black canoe, half expecting to see it upturned in a Brownie Quake Ooze or drifting empty along a ditch, but to his disappointment he saw nothing apart from a long black log that only momentarily raised his hopes.
They stopped for a while to eat some goat cheese and sardine sandwiches beside the Marsh Moaners' bog. But they were left in peace as the Moaners were long gone, evaporated in the warmth of the rising sun.
It was early afternoon and a gray drizzle had set in when, at last, they paddled into the Deppen Ditch. The Marsh Python lay dozing in the mud, half covered with the sluggish water of the recently turned incoming tide. It ignored Muriel Two, much to the occupants' relief, and lay waiting for the fresh influx of fish that the rising tide would bring. The tide was very low, and the canoe sat well below the steep banks that rose up on either side of them, so it was not until they rounded the very last bend of the Deppen Ditch that Jenna, Nicko and Boy 412 saw what was waiting for them.
The Vengeance.
The Meeting
A shocked silence fell in the Muriel Two canoe. Just a short paddle away, the Vengeance lay quietly at anchor in the early afternoon drizzle, still and steady in the middle of the river's deepwater channel. The massive black ship was a striking sight: its bow rose up like the steep side of a cliff, and with its tattered black sails furled, its two tall masts stood out like black bones against the overcast sky. An oppressive silence surrounded the ship in the gray light. No seagulls dared wheel around hoping for scraps. Small boats using the river saw the ship and hurried quietly along the shallow waters by the riverbank, more willing to risk running aground than to go near the notorious Vengeance. A heavy black cloud had formed above the masts, casting a dark shadow over the entire ship, and from the stern a blood-red flag with a line of three black stars fluttered ominously.
Nicko did not need the flag to tell him whose ship it was. No other ship had ever been painted with the strong black tar that DomDaniel used, and no other ship could have been surrounded by such a malevolent atmosphere. He gestured frantically to Jenna and Boy 412 to paddle backward, and a moment later Muriel Two was safely hidden behind the last bend of Deppen Ditch.
"What is it?" whispered Jenna.
"It's the Vengeance," whispered Nicko. "DomDaniel's ship. I reckon it's waiting for the Apprentice. I bet that's where the little toad has gone. Pass me the eyeglass, Jen."
Nicko put the telescope to his eye and saw exactly what he had feared. There in the deep shadows cast by the steep black sides of the hull was the Hunter's canoe. It lay bobbing in the water, empty and dwarfed by the bulk of the Vengeance, tied to the foot of a long rope ladder that led up to the ship's deck. The Apprentice had kept his appointment.
"It's too late," said Nicko. "He's there. Oh, yuck, what's that? Oh, disgusting. That Thing's just slipped out from inside the canoe. It's so slimy. But it can certainly get up a rope ladder. It's like some gruesome monkey." Nicko shuddered.
"Can you see the Apprentice?" whispered Jenna.
Nicko swept the eyeglass up the rope ladder. He nodded. Sure enough, the Apprentice had almost reached the top, but he had stopped and was staring down in horror at the rapidly climbing Thing. In a matter of moments the Magog had reached the Apprentice and scuttled over him, leaving a trail of vivid yellow slime across the back of his robes. The Apprentice seemed to falter for a moment and almost loosen his grip on the ladder, but he struggled up the last few rungs and collapsed on the deck, where he lay unnoticed for some time.
Serves him right, thought Nicko.
They decided to take a closer look at the Vengeance on foot. They tied Muriel Two to a rock and walked along to the beach where they had had the midnight picnic the night of their escape from the Castle. As they rounded the bend Jenna got a shock. Someone was already there. She stopped dead and ducked back behind an old tree trunk. Boy 412 and Nicko bumped into her.
"What is it?" whispered Nicko.
"There's someone on the beach," whispered Jenna. "Maybe it's someone from the ship. Keeping guard."
Nicko peered around the tree trunk. "It's not someone from the ship." He smiled.
"How do you know?" asked Jenna. "It could be."
"Because it's Alther."
Alther Mella was sitting on the beach, staring mournfully out into the drizzle. He had been there for days, hoping that someone from Keeper's Cottage would turn up. He needed to talk to them urgently.
"Alther?" whispered Jenna.
"Princess!" Alther's careworn face lit up. He wafted over to Jenna and enfolded her in a warm hug. "Well, I do believe you've grown since I last saw you."
Jenna put her fingers to her lips. "Shhh, they might hear us, Alther," she said.
Alther looked surprised. He wasn't used to Jenna telling him what to do.
"They can't hear me." He chuckled. "Not unless I want them to. And they can't hear you either - I've put up a Scream Screen, they won't hear a thing."
"Oh, Alther," said Jenna. "It is so lovely to see you. Isn't it, Nicko?"
Nicko had a big grin on his face. "It's great," he said.
Alther gave Boy 412 a quizzical look. "Here's someone else who's grown too." He smiled. "Those Young Army lads are always so painfully thin. It's nice to see you've filled out a bit. "
Boy 412 blushed.