Happenstance Found (Books of Umber #1) (7 page)

Umber leaned over to whisper to Hap. “Same father, different mothers. That’s Captain Sandar of the Merinots.”

Hap took a closer look at the handsome man below. Sandar’s fingers were splayed on the railing, and Hap saw no webbing between them. The chief resemblance between the siblings was the heart-shaped faces and high cheekbones.

“Nima, are you sure you don’t want to add a crew member? I’m certain I could find a volunteer,” Sandar called up. A smile teased the corner of his mouth. Around him, the young sailors coughed and yanked on the bottoms of their shirts to smooth the wrinkles.

“Boroon is all I need,” Nima said. She crossed her arms and turned to Umber with a flush of red on her face. “Your party may disembark now.”

Umber bowed. “We thank you, Captain, for your service. I’m sure we’ll see you again soon. Ready, everyone?” He gestured for the others to climb down to the
Swift
. Sophie, Oates, and Balfour descended, each tossing a pack of belongings to the sailors below.
And I have nothing,
Hap thought. The notion gnawed his heart.
No stuff. No memory. No life
.

While Umber said a few quiet parting words to Nima, Hap went down the ladder with his back to the crew members below. When he reached the deck of the
Swift
, he turned around. The air filled with gasps, and Hap winced. He’d forgotten how people reacted to the first sight of his luminous eyes.

The moment seemed eternal, and was only broken when Umber hurried down the ladder and glared at the crew. “Paint a picture, it’ll last longer,” he snapped, stepping in front of Hap.

Sandar took note and raised his voice like a trumpet. “That’s right, you pack of dogs! Make yourselves busy. Anchors and sails, anchors and sails!”

Umber put a hand on Hap’s shoulder. “Thank you, Captain Sandar. Now I want you to meet a new friend. His name is Happenstance.”

Sandar bowed, transforming instantly from stern captain to gracious host. “A pleasure, Happenstance. As a friend of Lord Umber, you can count on my loyalty and service.” He seemed to mean it, and so Hap found himself liking the man immediately.

“Excellent,” Umber said. “Now, good Captain, I wish to quietly put in at the outer dock of the Aerie. I don’t care to deal with Hoyle just now; she’s probably in a snit.”

Sandar’s handsome face went pale. He coughed into his hand. “Lord Umber, about Hoyle …”

Umber blanched. Not far from where they stood was a door to a cabin on the
Swift
’s main deck. That door exploded open, hitting the wall with a thunderous crack. A short, squat woman with a doleful expression on her chunky face filled the shadowy threshold. She raised a finger and pointed. “You!”

Umber drew his head between his knobby shoulders, much like a turtle. “N-now, Hoyle,” he stammered, raising his palms. “You know perfectly well that I need to take the occasional jaunt …”

Hoyle advanced and Umber retreated until his back was pressed against the railing and she was an inch away. She mashed her fists into her plump hips and glared up into Umber’s face. “A
jaunt
? Is that what you call these silly expeditions? Do you have any idea how much you’ve cost us? Of course you do! That’s why you were going to sneak into the outer dock like a common smuggler. You wanted to avoid me! Well, that’s exactly why I came on board to intercept you! You’re an impulsive pudding-head, that’s what you are, and a ridiculous businessman. The leviathan barge is the most valuable asset in our fleet, you dolt. While you were gone, word came of a wondrous opportunity: rare perfume out of Andobar! And where is our best cargo ship, the one that’s impervious to headwind and doldrums and buccaneers? Off on a lark, a fool’s errand, a goose chase, in search of some pointless and probably mythical treasure. And you didn’t even
tell
me you were commandeering Boroon! You snuck away, and I’ll wager you came home empty-handed! Well, what do you have to say about it, Lord Umber?”

There was a grim silence. The sailors edged away as if their eyebrows might be singed if they stood too close. Sandar leaned back, massaging his throat. Nima observed with interest from the barge. From under the sea came a comment from Boroon: a long, deep
hmmmmmmmm
.

Umber coughed and tugged at his collar. His head slowly emerged from between his shoulders. His voice squeaked at first, and then gathered strength as he spoke. “I do have something to say, in fact. Firstly, at a time like this, Hoyle, I almost forget that you work for me and not the other way around. Secondly, much of our mutual success has sprung from these
jaunts
, and I trust you’ll bear that in mind. Thirdly, I was presented with information about something important that might be retrieved, and I had reason to believe that haste was crucial. That is why I asked Captain Nima to take me. Fourthly, I am not a pudding-head. And fifthly, I did not come home empty-handed.”

“Oh, really?” Hoyle said. Her glare had lost a fraction of its heat. “And what did you find?”

Umber raised a finger toward the sky, twirled it in the air, and brought it down over Hap’s head. Hoyle looked at Hap for the first time, and she took in a sharp breath when her eyes met his.

“A
boy
?” She turned to Umber with one eyebrow arched high. “Lord Umber, you can’t just run out to a distant shore and collect a
boy
.”

“Normally I’d concur,” Umber said, “but this particular boy—who has a name, incidentally, which is Happenstance—needed to be collected.
Rescued,
in fact, from a cruel fate. Happenstance has no memory, you see, and no one to take care of him.”

Hoyle took a second look at Hap. Her jaw slid from side to side. “So you’ve fallen into Umber’s company, young man? One piece of advice: Don’t let him take you on any more of his adventures, or something horrible might happen to you.”

Hap nodded vigorously. He was eager to agree with this formidable person.

“Madam Hoyle!” It was Nima, calling down from the barge.

Hoyle looked up, and somehow her harsh features formed a genuine smile. “Nima, darling! How are you, my dear?”

“Quite well, thank you. You spoke of perfume: Is it the usual port in Andobar?”

“Why, yes it is.”

“And how much head start did our rivals get?”

“Nearly two days, I fear.”

Nima raised her face to the sky. “There is not much wind, and it is against them. Also, they will have to sail around the Straits of Maur, for fear of pirates, while Boroon can swim straight through. So I can still arrive before them.”

“Can you really?” Hoyle said. She stroked her palm with her fingers, counting coins in mime.

“I should leave at once,” Nima said.

“Aren’t you a delight! Meet our agent at the usual rendezvous, and he’ll arrange for the cargo to be loaded. Captain Sandar, please have your men bring the chest of gold to Nima.” Hoyle whipped back toward Umber, and her ferocity returned for an encore. “And
you
, Lord Umber, will meet me in the cabin, where we shall discuss our mutual responsibilities at length.”

Umber trudged into the cabin like a man approaching the gallows, while a small but weighty wooden chest was carried up to the leviathan barge. The sailors swarmed over the deck of the
Swift
and crawled aloft like spiders to drop the sails. Furls of canvas snapped into taut expanses. Lines were heaved back to the leviathan barge, and the crafts drifted apart. Nima waved, and Boroon’s sweeping tail propelled them away.

“Are we going to Kurahaven now, Captain Sandar?” asked Hap.

Sandar took a deep breath of salty air. “Yes, Master Happenstance. And that is a sight you will never forget, I promise you.”

CHAPTER
8

The notion of cold, dark water below
still jangled Hap’s nerves, but curiosity drove him to crouch near the prow, where he hugged the rail tight. There was another reason to stand there with his back to the crew: Nobody could stare at his eyes. After a while, Sophie came forward as well, without a word, and stood several paces away.

The mountains on the horizon grew wider and taller as the
Swift
approached land. They bounded past rocky isles, and then ships of all sizes and shapes appeared as they plunged into a busy shipping lane. Suddenly there were gray-white sails all around and gray-white gulls overhead, filling the air with haunting cries. All the vessels came and went through a gap in the mountainous terrain, directly ahead. The wind gusted, Sandar barked out orders, and Hap felt the
Swift
earn her name. She swept past every boat on the same course while other captains frowned with envy.

As they approached, Hap saw that the gap was easily a half mile across. When they reached the opening and passed the peaks that blocked the interior from sight, he saw the harbor of Kurahaven for the first time, a calm circle of water inside the mountains’ embracing arms. For a moment he neglected to breathe.

The first wonder stood just inside the gap, near the shore to his left. It was an ancient castle, built on an island so low that its walls seemed to erupt straight from the sea. Surely, it was no longer inhabited, because what was left was in a precarious state. There had once been four towers around a domed keep. Now two were collapsed with their remains jutting from the sea, one was broken in half, and one sagged at such an angle that it was hard to conceive why it hadn’t already tumbled.

“What is that place?” Hap said.

Sophie looked around and saw that no one else was there to reply. She answered in a whisper while looking at her feet. “Those are the ruins of Petraportus. It’s very old. That’s where the kings lived long ago.”

“Oh. Thank you,” said Hap. He could have stared at the broken castle for hours, but there was more to see. At the far end of the harbor, in stark contrast to the ruins, stood the dazzling, flourishing city of Kurahaven. He had no memory of the world of his past, but he was sure there couldn’t be a more remarkable place anywhere.

He let his eyes wander across the great vista, starting with the ruined castle on his left. Behind that, a lofty pillar of rock stood out from the cliffs. Through some unimaginable act of carving, the rock had been transformed into a tower fortress. Columns, stairs, arches, balconies, and windows had been sculpted into its surface. Near the top, part of the rock jutted from a corner, and this outcropping had been carved in the likeness of a head with a craggy face, a flowing beard, and windows for eyes.

Near the bottom of the pillar a thick jet of water shot from a crack in the rock. A boat was floating where the stream splashed into the sea. The craft was so tiny that there was barely room for the gray-haired man and woman who occupied it, and the barrels they were filling.

“They call that the Spout,” Sophie offered. “See that little boat? That’s the old fisherman and his wife, who live in the ruins of Petraportus. They keep to themselves mostly. We don’t even know their names. Nobody else is crazy enough to go in there, because the rest of it could collapse any minute.”

“And what is that place?” asked Hap, looking toward the carved pillar.

“Why, that is the Aerie,” Sophie replied. Her voice had gained strength, and he was glad to see that she’d moved a little closer.

The Aerie. Of course,
Hap thought. Umber could not live in an ordinary home; it had to be something remarkable. He took a closer look. At the top a short, narrow tower stood at one corner. At the bottom was a boxy gatehouse, dwarfed by the pillar that loomed over it. Descending from there, a stone causeway spanned a frothing white river that spilled from the mountains to the harbor. The causeway flattened into a road that led to the magnificent city.

To behold the city from the harbor was to look up a series of steps. First, all around them were the watercraft—too many to count, from tiny rowboats to great cargo ships, cluttering the docks and moored offshore. Sophie followed his gaze. “Have you ever seen so many ships?” she said. “The merchant vessels are there … the king’s navy is in the middle … and the fishing boats are there. And look—there’s the shipyard.” Hap followed where her finger pointed and saw, on the far side of the harbor, a dozen ships in every stage of construction. Some were just skeletal rows of ribs, others were partially clad with curving planks, and some needed only a mast and sails before they could swim.

Behind the docks was a high stone wall, daunting to any invader. Past that, the city sprawled on a gently sloping hill. There were buildings with magnificent columns, arches and domes, and neighborhoods packed tight with tall, brightly colored houses.

In the center of it all was a palace. The great building looked like something sculpted from sand. Its elegant towers, clustered tight and rising ever higher near the center, were topped by swallow-tail banners that snapped in the ocean breeze. The tallest tower was adorned by a clock with a face as big as the moon. Gardens surrounded the castle, and even from this distance Hap could see the riot of hues in bloom.

Behind them, Hap heard the door to the cabin open. Umber stepped out. When he saw Hap he wiped the back of his hand across his forehead in exaggerated fashion, and then broke into a wide grin. “Well, I suppose I deserved that tongue-lashing. Don’t get the wrong idea about Hoyle, though. She’s a fine person, though mortally addicted to profit.” Umber swept his arm across the panorama before them. “So, what do you think of Kurahaven? Does it tickle your memory?”

“If I saw this before, I hope I’d remember,” Hap said.

“Trust me, it’s just as beautiful up close. I have so much to show you, Hap. So much to explore!”

Sandar shouted orders. Sails were furled until only one remained to nudge the
Swift
forward, and the crew skillfully guided her to her berth. Hap sighed with relief as the ship squeaked against the dock. He was eager to leave the menacing sea behind at last and set foot on sturdy land.

Hoyle scowled at Umber one last time, and then stomped down the plank, across the dock, and up the wide stairs of a tall, white building with a sign that made Hap look twice. Under a large decorative letter U it said THE UMBER SHIPPING COMPANY.

Hap followed the others down the plank. The dock was busy as an anthill. Grunting, laughing, sweating, singing men loaded and unloaded the ships. Barrels were rolled up and down ramps, chests were balanced on shoulders, and crates dangled high from ropes and pulleys.

Word somehow spread that Umber had arrived, because a stream of men ran up to greet him, ask whispered questions, and hand over documents for him to peruse. Odd things happened between those mundane pieces of business. Someone handed Umber a nasty-looking rat in a cage. Umber accepted it happily, thanking the fellow for his thoughtfulness. Another man approached with a small wooden box. Umber was delighted to receive it. He swung the hinged lid open, revealing a mass of packing straw inside. Umber dug in and pulled out a bottle, not so different from the one he’d thrown at the tyrant worm. It was made of orange glass with a fat bottom and narrow neck, sealed with cork and wax.

“What exactly is the effect?” he asked the man who’d brought it.

“Not
precisely
sure, my lord,” said the man. “Serpents, I believe. But the wizard said it ought not to be used in a crowd.”

“Well done, Flugel. Worth whatever we paid, I’m sure. The prince will be delighted.”

A carriage drawn by a pair of sturdy horses appeared. Umber waved to its driver and looked back for his companions. “Hap, Sophie, Balfour, our ride is here. Where is Oates? Where’d that bruiser get to now?”

Hap looked to his left for the big man. A sound from the other direction caught his attention: the unmistakable slap of a hand on flesh. He saw Oates a few paces away with a bright red mark on one cheek. A young woman stood before him, flexing her fingers. She darted Oates a poisonous stare and muttered something dreadful before stomping away with her dress swishing violently from side to side.

“Not again,” said Umber. “Poor Oates. I’ve told him not to talk to women. Honesty gets him nowhere.”

The carriage rocked as Oates clambered in. “Nobody talk to me,” he said, holding his cheek with one hand.

“I wouldn’t dream of asking. Stow this, will you?” Umber replied, handing Oates the caged rat. Oates sighed and put the cage under his seat.

Hap leaned out the window, absorbing the scene that rolled by. The carriage clattered over cobblestones and through one of the open gates in the harbor wall. Every gate had heavy doors that could be shut fast—in case of some enemy’s assault, Hap figured. But this was clearly a time of peace, because the doors were open wide, and only a few soldiers occupied the watchtowers that topped the wall a hundred yards apart.

The carriage reached a crossroads and turned sharply left, heading for the Aerie. They were on the sloping road that Hap had seen from the harbor, and soon the carriage rattled across the causeway. Hap saw the foaming river that tumbled through a gap in the mountains, thundered over rocky steps, and churned the sea.

“The river Kura,” Umber called over the roaring cascades.

The causeway angled higher, and Hap had to lean forward to keep his face at the window. Ahead was a stone gatehouse at the foot of the Aerie. The clopping of hooves slowed and the carriage stopped in a small courtyard.

“Here we are, Hap,” said Umber. “I hope you’ll call this home.”

There were two doors that led into the Aerie. One was made of dark wood covered with plates of iron; it was just wide enough to let a single person pass. The second door was twice as high and five times as wide. It was crafted from some glossy black material, seamless and unblemished, like a pool of ink standing on edge.

“We could use the little door, but the big one’s more fun,” Umber said. He rubbed his hands together and grinned. “Ready for some magic?”

“Um. I guess,” Hap replied.

“Hurkhor!” Umber called aloud, facing the door, with one hand raised high.

That means
open, Hap thought, deciphering the strange word.
But it’s not the same tongue we’ve been speaking
. He was going to ask Umber about it when something remarkable happened. A thin vertical line appeared in the center of the shiny black door. The crack widened, and the door split in two and swung inward. Its only sound was a soft whisper.

“You made it open by saying that word?” asked Hap.

Umber nodded and laughed.

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” said Hap.

“If it made
sense
, it wouldn’t be
magic
.” Umber showed Hap the back of his right hand. There were several rings on Umber’s fingers, but he wiggled the third digit. That ring had an oval stone made of the same black material.