Happenstance Found (Books of Umber #1) (4 page)

CHAPTER
4

Hap felt as if the gears of his mind
had disengaged. He barely heard Umber’s voice: “Hap, this is the leviathan barge. And that is her captain.”

Hap blinked fast to regain his senses.
That is her captain?
He saw a slender figure walk nimbly along the creature’s back in front of the wooden barge. It was a woman, dripping water from slick-backed hair, and clad in a snug shirt and leggings made of oily, shiny material. She walked up a flight of steps onto the barge and shoved something over the side through a gap in the railing. It was a ladder made of cord and wood that unrolled as it tumbled to the water.

“Take us closer, Oates,” Umber said.

“I’m already taking us closer,” grumbled Oates. “Do I hate when people ask me to do a thing I already started? Yes, I do.” He stabbed the water with his oar and paddled them to the side of the leviathan. Hap stared down at the blue-gray flipper that was just under the surface, gently stirring the water. The crescent limb was a behemoth itself, twice the size of their little boat. Even its subtlest motions made the water swirl and peak.

The boat bumped against the slick hide. Sophie hopped off her seat and went up the ladder, agile despite her missing hand.

“Ready, Hap?” Umber said.

Hap stood and took a deep breath. He was happy to leave the little boat, but he would have preferred dry land to a sea-beast that might plunge back underwater at any moment. He stared at the ladder.

“Don’t worry, Hap,” Umber said. “She’s the safest craft you’ll ever board. Come, I’ll be right behind you.”

Hap nodded, seized a rung with two hands, and started to climb. He didn’t want to look down, so he kept his eyes on the immense wall of speckled gray flesh before him. The skin was dotted with hard shells that clung fast (the word for them popped into his mind:
barnacles
), and water still trickled down in wriggling streams. He counted the rungs to keep his mind focused on anything but the deep sea. After twenty-six he reached the top, where the captain put a hand under his arm and helped him onto the deck.

Umber bounded aboard next. He grinned broadly and held his arms wide. “Nima, my dear! How good to see you and Boroon again!”

The captain crossed her arms and bent her head to one side. “And you, Lord Umber.” Her dark eyes went to the smoldering mountain behind them. “A close call?”

“What else?” Umber laughed. “I’ll tell you later. There’s an introduction to be made first. This young man is named Happenstance, but we already call him Hap. Hap, this is our esteemed friend, Captain Nima of the Merinots.”

Nima closed her eyes and bowed at the waist. Hap mimicked the bow. When the captain opened her eyes again, she gave Hap a closer look, and her brow wrinkled as their gazes met.
My eyes again,
Hap thought.
Are they really so strange?

“Boroon and I welcome you, Happenstance,” she said. Hap looked around, wondering who Boroon was; he didn’t see anyone else aboard.
Down below
, he figured, spotting a hatch that led into the hull. When he looked at Nima again, she was still staring, even as she gathered her long black hair in one hand and wrung the water from it. Hap’s shoulders twitched as he noticed the thin sheets of transparent skin that bridged the spaces between her knuckles.

Ignis bellowed again, filling the sky with stone. “We should secure the jolly boat and go,” Nima said, raising her voice.

“I’m already securing it!” Oates shouted. “Why must people tell me to do something I’m already doing?”

Umber brought Hap to the front of the barge, where Hap leaned uneasily on the rail and watched the sea. Even in this placid state it made Hap’s chest tighten just to look at it. He almost wished they’d stayed at the foot of Mount Ignis and taken their chances with the molten rock.

Nima went down the stairs that led to the leviathan’s vast back. Hap noticed she wore no shoes, and he thought the same kind of webbing that connected her fingers might also be there between her toes.

Nima walked up to the hole on the creature’s back, not far from its head, and stood over it. She cupped her hands beside her mouth and called out: “Boroon! To Kurahaven!”

The leviathan sang a deep, booming note. Whirlpools appeared above its great fins.
So that’s who Boroon is,
thought Hap.

“Look aft, Hap,” Umber said, pointing behind them. The tail of the leviathan rose high out of the water, hovered ominously, and slammed down again, making a thunderous
pop.

“Hold on!” Umber cried. He and Hap seized the rail just as the beast and barge surged toward the pale horizon. Nima somehow stayed on her feet despite the lurch. The leviathan’s broad head plowed the sea, with waves foaming on either side. Hap felt suddenly dizzy. He released the rail and slumped until he sat on the deck. When he pressed his hand over his heart, it thudded against his palm.

Umber sat beside Hap and patted him on the shoulder. “Well, Happenstance. We’re on our way.”

Hap drew his knees to his chest and hugged them. Oates leaned on the rail at the stern and stared at the volcano in their wake. In the middle of the deck, Sophie opened the hatch and disappeared downstairs.

Hap turned and saw Umber watching him. He looked at the dark wood under his feet. “Everybody stares at my eyes.”

“Well, they are something to see,” Umber said. He reached into another one of the pockets on his vest, dug through its contents, and pulled out a palm-size brass object that was hinged on one side. He pried it open, revealing a mirror, and handed it to Hap. “Take a look.”

Hap stared into the glass. Nothing about the reflection was familiar: not the prominent ears, or the narrow chin, or the straight brown hair, and certainly not the large green eyes that sparkled with faint points of light. He was looking at a face that he’d never seen before that moment.

“I don’t know who I am,” he whispered, handing the mirror back to Umber.

Umber sat for a while, tapping his temple with a pair of fingers. “Well. Do you remember anything at all from before we found you?”

Hap sniffed. “The first thing I remember is opening my eyes. Before that … nothing.”

“And that fellow who was with you—do you know who he was? Anything about him?”

Hap shook his head.

Umber pressed a knuckle against his lips. “Bewildering. Hap, do those initials on the seal mean something to you? WN?”

Hap closed his eyes and concentrated. It was no use. He could trace his memories only back to when he’d awoken, and not a moment earlier. There was a barrier there he couldn’t penetrate. “No,” Hap said. “But … I would like to know what that note said, if you don’t mind telling me.”

Umber angled his head. “You mean the note that said ‘For the Eyes of Umber Only’?”

“Oh. Right,” Hap said quietly.

Umber stretched his arms and crossed his legs. “Tell me something, Hap. We’re headed to Kurahaven. Ever heard of the place?”

Hap shook his head.

“No? How about Londria? Pernica? Norr?” Umber swept his hand toward the horizon. “The Rulian Sea?”

With every name, Hap shook his head again. He had a feeling he’d be doing a lot of that.

Umber looked right and left and leaned closer, dropping his voice so that only Hap might hear. He offered the names of five more places. As he spoke them, Hap saw a flash of sadness in Umber’s eyes.

“I don’t know those either,” said Hap. He wondered why those names had to be whispered. He repeated them to himself, to preserve them in his memory.

“Well, can you recall the name of any place at all?” Umber asked. “A town, a city, a land, a sea?”

Hap didn’t bother to shake his head. He simply let it hang.

“Now, Hap, don’t be sad. Perhaps those memories will come back. After a good night’s sleep, maybe. And dinner, too! Do you suppose you like seafood?”

CHAPTER
5

Umber showed Hap around the levia
-than barge, insisting that Hap would lose his fear once he saw what a remarkable ship she was. He first pointed out how the barge was affixed to Boroon. While the leviathan’s sides and belly had a slick, rubbery hide, his back was covered with a natural armor that could bear the weight of the craft. Bony, club-headed growths studded the armor, and thick ropes were tied around those projections and secured to sturdy cleats. The barge itself was perhaps eighty feet long, nearly half the length of Boroon.

“There are two decks below,” Umber said. “The bottom deck, or the hold, is for cargo. The middle is for the captain’s cabin, the guests’ quarters, the central cabin, and the galley. Ah, the galley—are you as hungry as me?” He led the way down a steep staircase. The moment they left the open air, a pleasing fragrance seized Hap by the nose, so intense that he took a deep, audible breath.

“Smell that? The lingering scent of spices in the hold,” Umber said, filling his slender chest with air. “Spice is a perfect cargo, compact and valuable. Ah, here we are: the central cabin.” The bottom of the stairs opened into a spacious room in the center of the middle deck. “The captain’s cabin is at the bow, unlike your typical ship. And the guests sleep in that room in the back. Hap, you remember the rest of our friends.”

The room was lit by hanging lanterns that swayed gently, with their mellow orange light in constant motion. The teak walls were adorned with nautical maps and lined with barrels and cabinets that were lashed tight to keep from shifting as the barge rolled. A long table surrounded by chairs occupied one end. Oates was napping on a bench in a corner, with an elbow across his eyes. Sophie sat at a desk at the other end, scratching at parchment with a thin stick of charcoal.

“Smart girl, Sophie,” Umber said, walking to her with Hap in tow. “Get it down while it’s fresh in your mind. May we look?”

Sophie nodded and turned her work so that Umber and Hap could see. It was a collection of detailed sketches of the worm. There were large renderings of the ferocious head and its snaking body, and smaller studies of the creature’s anatomy: the eye, the wicked tail, and the clawed feet.

“Lovely work as usual, Sophie,” Umber said. He pointed to the drawing as he spoke. “Though I believe the body was a little fatter than you’ve shown here. And here, the claws had a joint near the bottom so it could raise them up and walk quietly on the pads of its feet. Take another crack at those and I think you can go to ink, dear. Thank you, excellent, excellent.”

Sophie had kept her gaze cast down, but she nodded, and a smile teased the corner of her mouth. Without a word she pulled the drawing in front of her again and went on with her work, holding the parchment with her metal hook and sketching with her good hand.

“Sophie is a fine artist with an astounding memory for what she’s witnessed,” Umber whispered as they stepped away from her workplace. “You didn’t think I brought her along just to shoot arrows, did you? And now,” he said, raising his voice and rubbing his hands together, “let’s see what we might whip up for dinner! I’m the best chef on board, Hap, I’ll have you know. Isn’t that true, Oates?”

“No,” Oates said, without taking his arm off his eyes.

“Never mind him, Hap. Just because he believes it doesn’t make it so. While I go to the galley, why don’t you—”

A wooden door beyond the long table swung open. A small man of considerable age peeked out. He was bent at the shoulders, and moved as if all his joints ached at once. The old man squinted into the room, and then announced, “Ah. You’re all here. And one more, I see. Well, supper will be ready in a bit.”

“Balfour!” cried Umber happily. “Come out and meet the newcomer!”

Balfour had attempted a hasty retreat into the galley. But when Umber called, he sighed heavily and forced a smile. “My apologies, Umber, but I am busy with—”

“Yes, Balfour, and don’t you worry, I’ll be in to help in just a moment. You know how I love to assist in the galley!”

Balfour’s posture deflated a bit, and he winced around the eyes, but still managed to hang on to the smile. “Yes, Umber. I know.”

“Hap,” said Umber, “this is Balfour, my trusted servant and friend, and while he’s aboard this craft, also its cook. Balfour, this is our newfound friend, Happenstance.”

Like everyone else, Balfour was transfixed for a moment by the sight of Hap’s eyes. Then he recovered, produced a more genuine smile, and bowed. “Very pleased to meet you, Happenstance.” His gaze wandered over Hap’s shoulder. Hap turned to see Nima descending the stairs from the upper deck.

“Lord Umber,” she said. “There’s something you should see.”

Ahead of their course, the sun sank toward the sea. Umber and Nima stared the other way, past the relentless sweep of the leviathan’s tail. Nima handed Umber a short, tapering brass tube, which he put to his eye and aimed at the distance. Hap had followed Umber onto the deck and he stepped to the back rail to see what had caught their attention.

There was a sail far beyond their wake, a triangular speck almost too distant to perceive.

“Not a large craft,” Umber said. “Do you suppose it’s following us?”

“It may be,” Nima replied. “Should we turn around and see who it is? Surely we have nothing to fear.”

Umber lowered the tube. He frowned at the distant ship, and his eye twitched at the corner. “Normally, curiosity would compel me. But not this time, Nima. I have a pressing engagement in Kurahaven and little time to spare. We’ll outrun her eventually, won’t we?”

Nima stared at the pursuer. “Most ships would have trouble staying with Boroon. Not this one, though. Even though the wind is light.”

“Is she closing on us?” Umber asked.

“No. She keeps her distance and matches our speed. As if she only wants to know where we are heading. Is there a reason anyone would follow us?” Nima asked the question of Umber, but her eyes went to Hap.

Umber didn’t answer. He clamped his bottom lip between his teeth.
Strange
, Hap thought. Umber seemed more nervous about the little ship than the monstrous worm that had almost killed them.

“What is that, Lord Umber?” Hap asked, pointing at the tube.

“A spyglass,” Umber replied, holding it up. “Meant for getting a better look at things that are far away.”

“May I try it?” Hap asked.

Umber wavered before offering it. “Er … of course. Take a look.”

Hap pressed the narrow end of the spyglass to his eye as Umber had done. What he saw amazed him. Somehow, within that cylinder, the ship had magically leaped a mile closer. Under a yellowed triangular sail, he saw a slender ship made of pale wood, with a curving prow that ended in the carved head of a serpent. It was a simple craft with a low deck and a boxy structure in the center. A ghostly figure stood at the prow, wearing a strange loose garment that billowed around his legs. From this distance, it was hard for Hap to tell exactly what he was seeing, but it looked as if the man had a pale, hairless face covered with dark spots.

“There’s a man dressed in gray,” Hap said. “I think he’s the only one there.”

“You can tell that from here? Your eyes are amazing, Hap.”

As Hap stared through the glass, he was sure the stranger’s neck craned forward. Hap felt a chill sweep his arms. It seemed as if the same device that gave him a closer look at the stranger also allowed the stranger a closer look at
him
. The man reached into a pocket at his side and took out something that looked like a sack. He pulled it over his head, covering the face with only a single eyehole on one side.

Every muscle in Hap’s body went taut as a bowstring. He tore the spyglass from his eye and thrust it into Umber’s hands.

“I think
his
eyes are even better than mine,” Hap said quietly.

Umber took the spyglass back. “Seen that ship before, Hap?”

“No, sir,” Hap said, folding his arms across his chest and shivering.

Umber raked his hair with one hand. “Nima, I think we ought to throw this suitor off our trail, however ardent he may be. But without making a big show of it, if possible. What would you suggest?”

Nima raised her chin while she considered the problem. “We will alter our course gradually to the north. When this moonless night falls, Boroon will make a fast turn in the dark, and we will leave that ship behind.”

Umber nodded. “Very good, my captain. Now come, Hap,” he said, shaking off his concern and returning to his native enthusiastic state. “Back to the galley!”

Umber told Hap to make himself comfortable in the central cabin and plunged into the galley. Before the door closed behind Umber, Hap saw Balfour cast a quick pleading look toward the ceiling. Soon a steady stream of clattering pans and chatter drifted out from behind the thin wooden door: “Oh, you’re a fine fish—look at the size of you, and fresh as anything! Come now, Balfour, I know perfectly well how to fillet a fish. I’m an absolute wizard with a knife, and—oh, did I nick you just then? Heavens, man, you’re bleeding. Now, is that hot enough? Ouch! It certainly is. And tell me there’s a lemon left—all is lost if there are no lemons! Ha, lemons galore!”

With Oates dozing, Sophie sketching, and Nima busy elsewhere, there was nothing left for Hap to do but find a place where he could sit and think. He took a seat at the long dining table near the galley. With his hands clasped before him, he closed his eyes, gathered his will, and took a headlong dash at the wall that blocked his memories. But his intentions shattered against it like an egg on stone. The barrier was impervious. Nothing came through, not the slightest hint of any history before he had opened his eyes in Alzumar. All Hap had to ponder was everything that had happened since that awakening. His life was still measured in hours, but it already sagged under the weight of unanswered questions.

One thing nagged at his mind, though it might have been the least of his puzzles. It was the way that, not long before, Umber had leaned close and whispered the names of those places, so careful to make sure the others didn’t hear. He repeated the strange names to himself:
New York. Lon-dun. Paris. Toe-key-oh. Moss-cow.
Were they villages, cities, nations? Why were those a secret, Hap wondered, and not the others?
Why?

Before he could dwell on the question, a booming sound penetrated the cabin. At first the pitch was so deep that Hap felt it in his bones more than heard it in his ears, but then it rose and grew stronger, like a horn signaling the end of all things. Every object in the cabin rattled. Sophie steadied the jars of ink so they wouldn’t splash onto her drawings. Umber burst out of the galley, wide-eyed.

“What is that?” cried Hap.

“That is Boroon,” Umber said, before springing up the stairs onto the deck.