Some mages balk at performing spells during an ocean voyage, preferring instead to dabble in sorcery in tiny rooms, precariously perched high atop the aerie towers that this sort of magician always seems to favor. The logic of this preference has always eluded me. After all, should something go amiss with either your spell or your relationship with your employer, just think how much easier it is to swim than it is to fly.
— THE TEACHINGS OF EBENEZUM,
VOLUME XXXVIII
Ebenezum turned to Norei and spoke in a low voice.
“Perhaps you could conjure a small wind spell? Nothing too big, something perhaps that would only slightly irritate my nose.”
Norei frowned. “Well, I might be able to do something. I see problems, though. What if I’m busy with the wind spell when the Netherhells attack? It might take me awhile to disengage. And what if, by bringing about a wind, I rush us into the Netherhells’ trap too fast for us to counteract it?”
“Indeed,” the wizard replied. “I am so anxious to get to Vushta, I am not giving proper consideration to the consequences. Now it might be that, by producing a wind, we could outrun whatever the Netherhells will send against us. But there is no way of knowing. I think we need you, alert and about the deck, more than we need a breeze.”
“What is this talk of spells?” the boatman called from his place at the tiller. “I am always glad to take a wizard on as a passenger. I do not discriminate in those areas as others do. But I draw the line at magic on my boat! I mean, this craft is almost paid for! I don’t want anything to happen to it now!”
“You have nothing to fear on that account,” Ebenezum called from the bow. “For the time being, we would like to stay as far away from magic as yourself!”
“Doom,” Hendrek spoke to my master in a low voice. “Look at the way the seagulls gather on the horizon. Could that be part of the Netherhells’ plot?”
I looked where the warrior pointed. Dozens of seagulls whirled in the distance.
“Indeed,” the wizard mused. “Either that, or they’re above a large school of fish. What would the Netherhells attempt? A seagull suicide spell? Too risky; you can never trust seagulls to do as instructed. They’re always off looking for fish. Still, they may bear watching.”
Hendrek nodded, his eyes fixed upon the whirling birds. “Doom,” he murmured.
“Pardon,” the boatman called. “Are you sure this is but a regular pleasure trip?”
“Certainly,” Ebenezum replied. “What makes you ask that question?”
“Well, you folks act very odd for a group on a pleasure cruise. Every time I turn around, you’re having a conference. Now look here, I would have to charge more if this were a business venture.”
“Indeed.” The mage stretched out upon his wooden seat, and scratched beneath his beard. “Oh, no, we intend nothing more than pleasure to come from our actions. After all, what else is Vushta for?”
“Quite right,” the boatman replied. “Sorry to question you. The renter is always right, as they say.”
“Indeed.” Ebenezum turned out to look at the ocean.
“Brwnnmmpwrr!” came a muffled shout. The voice, somehow, sounded much too high to be Snarks’s.
“Llgvvbrwrph!” Ah, now that was Snarks. I looked over to the middle of the deck, where the well-cloaked demon seemed to be doing an elaborate dance.
“Is something wrong?” the boatman called.
“Not at all!” Ebenezum said reassuringly. “ ‘Tis nothing more than a complex religious ritual. Wuntvor, could you go over to our friend and make sure his ablutions do not tangle his robes?”
I did as my master asked. As I approached the demon, I could see that most of the movement was in Snarks’s pocket, the very place we had stashed the Brownie! What was happening?
I spoke quietly, through clenched teeth, to a point in the demon’s robes where I imagined an ear would be:
“Don’t you think you should quiet down?”
“Snnrfhm!” Snarks replied.
“Brwnprrfrffrr!” the Brownie yelled back.
“Will you control yourselves?” I whispered. “You two can argue when we get to Vushta.”
“Up with—” the Brownie cried before I could stuff his head back into the pocket.
“I can take it no longer!” Snarks shouted, flinging off his hood. “I have suffered enough! I will not have a little person inhabiting my clothes!”
“What is going on here?” the boatman demanded. I turned around, trying to shield the struggling demon and Brownie with my body. “Please try to ignore it. Tis nothing but the latter stages of the religious ritual. It gets rather hectic, I’m afraid.”
“It will get much more hectic if this Brownie doesn’t get out of my robes and off this boat immediately!”
The little fellow popped his head out of the pocket. “Brownies come and go as they please. Let’s see how Brownie Power does at making shoes out of demon leather!”
“Wait a second!” the boatman cried. “That fellow having the religious experience isn’t human! And I think he has two heads!”
“Indeed,” Ebenezum said. “That is very observant.”
“Observant, nothing! If it’s not human, it doesn’t stay on my boat!”
“A moment, my good man.” Ebenezum stood, fixing the owner with his best wizard’s stare. “You were contracted to take the five of us to Vushta.”
“Wait a moment!” The boatman shook his head violently. “You contracted for five persons! Human persons!”
“I’m afraid, my good man, I did not. I simply asked you if you could take five on a boat. Species was never discussed.”
The boatman fumed. “I should have listened to my grandmother!”
“Indeed,” the wizard replied. “We would probably all be far better off if we had listened to everybody.”
The boatman continued as if he had not heard my master. “My aged grandmother was a wise woman. She used to say, always make your contracts in writing. She used to say, never trust a wizard until you have his gold. She used to say—”
“Indeed,” Ebenezum interrupted the other’s meanderings. “You know, there are certain rules that my aged grandmother told me as well. I believe one of those is apt in this situation.”
The boatman blinked unhappily. “Which is?”
Ebenezum pulled back his sleeves, exposing his hands in prime conjuring position. “Never argue with a wizard.”
“Oh. Yes, well, I guess you have a point. Sounds like your grandmother was every bit as wise as mine. Actually, come to think of it, mine liked to talk a bit too much. Never would shut up—”
The boatman returned to his tiller. Snarks and the Brownie seemed to have quieted as well. The prospect of being thrown bodily into the ocean had temporarily calmed their anger. I placed Snarks’s hood back on his head.
“Thmmnnllf!” Snarks said.
“Doom !”Hendrek called.
The sky above us was filled with seagulls.
“Quickly, Norei!” the wizard said. “Everyone, cover your heads!”
In a high, lilting voice, the young witch cried:
“Go, you creatures! Back down in the blue!
Go, you demons! Wakka doo wakka doo!”
The seagulls continued to circle, as the boat slowly moved away from them.
“I don’t think that was the Netherhells’ curse,” Norei remarked.
“Indeed,” the wizard replied.
“What was that all about?” the boatman called.
Ebenezum rolled up his sleeves. “Do you wish to argue with a wizard?”
“Hold on, now!” the boatman said, pushing as far back against the tiller as he could manage. “It’s one thing to argue with a wizard. It’s another thing to send your boat, your sole means of livelihood, to sure destruction.”
“In truth.” The wizard paused, pulling at his beard. “We have not been totally fair with you, my good man. Our trip is serious business, and we will pay you accordingly. We will even pay for the sixth person, short though he is, who resides in the cloaked one’s pocket.”
Ebenezum pulled forth his bag of gold and rested it upon his palm. “You must excuse me. Sometimes my wizard’s frugality gets the better of me. But we no longer have time for such petty concerns as money. I will give you a fair share of this purse, once our job is done. We must get to Vushta as soon as possible. There are demons who are trying to stop us, for they have a plan whereby the Netherhells will control the surface world. Because of this, your ship may be attacked during this crossing, although we have developed counter-measures that should be more than sufficient to protect us. I hope you understand the importance of our mission. The fate of Vushta, and the whole world, hangs in the balance.”
“Oh.” The boatman smiled. “Is that all? The fate of Vushta hangs upon our actions? We might be attacked by demons at any moment? Why don’t I just jump off my boat now, and be done with it?”
“Doom!” Hendrek contributed. “Heed the wizard. Even I don’t think our situation is that hopeless.”
“I should have listened to my grandmother! She was always talking. Threw peach pits at me if I didn’t listen. She was always talking, and eating peaches. Had a deadly aim with those pits, let me tell you. It’s why I went to sea in the first place.” The boatman shuddered. “I’ll end up as dinner for some demon! And my grandmother said I’d never amount to anything!”
“Indeed,” the wizard replied. “Fear not, friend Hendrek. The good boatman is already beginning to accept the situation. In the meantime, mayhaps there is something we can do beyond mere waiting. Wuntvor, you said there were still some books in the pack?”
I nodded, pulling the pack from where I had stashed it beneath my seat. I took out the three remaining books, reading the embossed letters on their spines aloud.
“Um,” I said. “Here’s Aunt Maggie’s Book of Home Remedies!’’
Ebenezum nodded. “Gift from my old mentor. We met her on our travels through a haunted valley. We helped her get rid of some ghosts and she gave me the book. Knowing her, she probably put a spell on it so I wouldn’t lose it. What else have you got, Wunt?”
I looked at the two other books in my hands: Vushta on Two Pieces of Gold a Day and a well-worn copy of How to Speak Dragon. My master frowned as I told him.
Ebenezum chewed his lip. “Disappointing, although we may be able to use the Vushta book, should we reach our destination. Who knows? Maybe Aunt Maggie’s book has a recipe for seaweed tea? I fear that wits, not spells, will have to see us through the coming test.”
The wind picked up suddenly. It started to rain.
Ebenezum huddled in his tattered robes. “Does the weather always change so quickly?”
A streak of lightning relit the darkening sky.
“Aye,” the boatman said. “We’re subject to squalls out here on the water.” He stared up into what was fast becoming a downpour. “Usually, though, there’s more warning than this.”
“Doom,” Hendrek muttered. “Could it be—”
“Only one way to find out,” Norei replied, and began to recite:
“Go, you creatures! Back down in the blue!
Go, you demons! Wakka doo wakka doo!”
The rain got heavier.
“On my grandmother’s grave!” the boatman shouted over the gathering storm. “Not only do I have to navigate this boat, I have to listen to your poetry. Before, I was not sure. Now, you will have to pay me double!”
“Indeed,” the wizard said. “We will pay you well enough.” He stared up into the stormy sky. “Apparently, the poem wasn’t appropriate.”
“Doom,” Hendrek said. “Will we have to use the poem on everything out here?”
“More poetry?” the boatman cried. “The fight with the Netherhells was one thing. That I can accept. But you should have warned me about the poetry. I may have to charge you triple!”
“Hey, guys!” A small form jumped out of the pocket in Snarks’s robe. “You have forgotten the obvious solution. Brownie Power!”
The rain lessened overhead. The sun peaked through the clouds. There was a rainbow.
Snarks tossed his hood away from his face. “Mere coincidence.” The demon sneered. “It has to be!”
“Who are these passengers?” the boatman complained. “The price of rental is going up by the minute!”
“You’ve laughed at Brownies for the last time!” the little fellow shouted at the demon. “We’ll show you what Brownies are made of! Remember the Brownie Creed: We may be tiny, but we’re terrific!” He began an elaborate dance.
Snarks placed a restraining hand on the Brownie’s cap. “Are you sure you should do this? If something goes wrong, we’ll all drown.”
“There have always been naysayers who have sneered at greatness!” the Brownie cried. “Big ideas don’t happen without taking big risks! I must do it, for the glory of Browniedom everywhere!”
“What is he doing?” the boatman demanded.
“I think it’s called the Lindy Hop,” the Brownie explained obligingly. “And boy, wait ‘til you see what happens when I’m done!”
“I think it’s going to happen almost immediately,” Snarks retorted, looking about him for something to throw. “No Brownie’s going to dump me into the ocean!” He picked up an oddly-colored oar.
“Where did that come from?” The boatman pointed at the orange-and-green checkerboard piece of wood.
“Doom!” Hendrek intoned, reaching for Head-basher.
“That’s right!” The oar began speaking even before it had completely metamorphosed into Brax the sales-demon. “It is your doom, unless you act now!”
“Hendrek!” I warned. “Be careful of the bottom of the boat!” But the large warrior’s club was swinging mightily, heedless of anything in its path. Wood splintered as Headbasher took a chunk out of the mast.
“This is the end!” the boatman shouted. “Why didn’t I listen, to my grandmother and become a tinker?”
“Wait a moment!” Brax ducked under the warclub. “I have something that just may save all of you! Then again, it may not. And heaven knows, it will cost a lot.
But, let’s face it, you’re going to need something really big—”
The salesdemon paused and blinked. It swallowed, hard.
“Oh no, not that,” he whispered. “I have to be going. Sorry to have bothered you.”
The demon blinked out of existence. Headbasher wisked through empty air. The large warrior sat down, hard.
“Doo—oof!”
“No!” Snarks cried in horror. “Not that! Even I don’t deserve that!”
A hundred voices cried as one:
“It’s Brownie Power!”
I looked up to see that our boat was filled, from stem to stern, with Brownies.