CHAPTER 8 Beyond This Point, Continuity Cannot Be Guaranteed

Fin stared at the letters that glowed like coals on the face of the obelisk. He had no idea what “continuity” was or why he might want a guarantee. “What do you think it means?” he asked.

Marrill pulled herself over and crouched next to him. The wind whipped up, snatching at the sleeves of his coat, running like fingers through his hair. “Oh, I know this!” she said. “It’s like, with a TV show…” He arched an eyebrow at her. He was pretty sure a tea veesho was a type of drink you snorted through your nose, but he had no idea how it related.

“Never mind,” Marrill said. “Continuity means, like, how everything happens in order and is the same from one moment to the next. Like, in a timeline.”

Fin arched an eyebrow. “So stuff might happen out of order if we go any farther?” She looked just as puzzled as he felt. But there was more to the message. They made their way closer, until the words became clear:

BEYOND THIS POINT

CONTINUITY CANNOT BE GUARANTEED

TAKE HEED TRAVELER

AT THE HEART OF THIS BROKEN WORLD

LIES THE SYPHON OF MONERVA

THE LEGACY OF THE SALT SAND KING

THE GREAT AND POWERFUL MACHINE

BEWARE

THE SYPHON GRANTS WISHES

—T. D. W.

Fin turned to Marrill. “Do you see what I see?” he asked.

The look in her eyes told him she did.

“The Syphon grants wishes.” She reached out and tapped one of the letters lightly, like she was afraid it might be hot.

Fin knew a syphon was something that sucked away liquid; Stavik had once hired him to “syphon” four hundred gallons of stumblefruit juice out of the hold of a merchant ship, using only an eight-foot-long straw and a particularly thirsty guzzlecrow. The memory made him smile, but he couldn’t exactly picture that crow granting wishes. Especially not after all that stumblefruit juice.

But perhaps this wasn’t that kind of syphon. Perhaps this syphon was something else entirely. “‘The Great and Powerful Machine,’” Fin read aloud.

“Do you think it’s real? A machine that grants wishes?” Marrill asked. “I mean, that’s what it says, right?”

The rational part of Fin’s brain told him not to get his hopes up. But the impulsive part of his brain told him to ignore that. And impulsive was his favorite brain part, at least when he didn’t think too hard about it.

Excitement jittered up from his toes to the tips of his ears. He nodded.

“My mom,” Marrill said, grabbing his arms. He could feel her shaking. “Fin, I could wish my mom better!”

“I know!” he said, grabbing her back. “And I could…” His mind spun with possibilities. He could wish to find the girl. Scratch that—he could find his own mother. Scratch that, even; he could wish to never be forgotten again!

The thought overwhelmed him. Together, he and Marrill bounced up and down, vibrating with energy. Their stomping caused the ground to shift underneath them.

Fin stopped, splaying his feet to keep his balance. He’d completely forgotten they were on a floating chunk of earth, bobbing loose and free through the skies.

“Maybe we’re flying a little ahead of the wind, as the Quay folk say,” he pointed out.

Marrill held an arm out to steady herself. “Right. Good point… if that means what I think it means.” She smiled at him. “Maybe there’s something else here.…”

She circled the obelisk, scanning the surface. Then she froze, eyes wide. Alarmed, Fin scrambled to her side. But when he saw what she was staring at, his breath caught in his throat. Without thinking, his hand went to the silver bracelet in his pocket, thumb tracing the symbol on its surface. The same symbol was carved into the black stone.

A dragon under a mountain-filled circle.

“I’ve seen it before!” Marrill said, pointing. “This same symbol was painted on the sign that told me I needed to come back to the Pirate Stream.”

Fin couldn’t believe it. “I’ve seen it, too!” He pulled out the bracelet and showed it to her. “I stole this from the forgettable girl.” Marrill’s lips tightened at the mention of stealing, but she said nothing. “The same symbol was on the side of her ship,” he added. He stepped forward and placed his palm against the smooth black stone. “I think there’s a connection between this symbol and my mom.”

Marrill sucked in a breath. “What does it mean?”

Fin had absolutely no idea. “And how does the Syphon of Monerva tie in?” They stood together, staring at the obelisk. Warmth spread through Fin’s chest. It was nice to know he didn’t have to face these questions alone.

“We should probably worry about getting back to the Kraken first, huh?” Marrill suggested.

He smiled. “Probably.” He half jogged, half bounced his way to the edge of the islet, still high on the thought of the Wish Machine and the possible connection to his mom. As he reached the edge, the breeze picked up, carrying on it the scent of rain and an acrid taste, almost as if he’d bitten his lip or gotten a nosebleed.

“Fin,” Marrill whispered behind him.

He tented his hands over his eyes. “Wait a tick,” he said. From up here, he could finally see the great whirlpool in all its glory. It was enormous; a huge spiraling swirl of glowing water, as if a giant had pulled the drain plug on the whole Stream. Islets tumbled around it and over it, some floating on the surface, some flying through the air, some leaping like whales and diving deep once more. But no sign of the Kraken.

“Fin!” Marrill said again. He turned. She stood paralyzed, staring out at the growing storm. Her features were pale, her hands trembling.

On the horizon, a spear of red lightning punctured the clouds.

Fin gulped. The last time he’d seen red lightning, it had brought terror with it. A ghost ship made of wrought iron, her crew cut from shadows. Her Master, clad head to toe in black metal. The memory of Serth’s voice skittered like spider legs across his brain: Fear the Iron Ship. Steer clear the Iron Ship.

He shook his head. The Iron Ship was gone. It had sunk into the Stream, taking its crew of walking shadows and its cruel, armor-clad Master with it. Nothing could survive that.

Could it?

“We should get out of here,” he told Marrill. “Like, now.”

A huge gust of wind interrupted his thought, catching him off balance. Marrill ducked her head and braced herself. Beneath them, the floating island shifted and lurched forward, slowly drifting out over the Shattered Archipelago. As the storm came on, the wind picked up even more, buffeting them and pushing them faster with each furious gust.

He made his way carefully back toward the edge, instinctively rocking on the balls of his feet to let the wind pass. It was fierce, to be sure. But Fin had grown up skysailing on the gales that blew off of Khaznot Mountain. Compared to them, this was a cinch.

“What do you see?” Marrill called. She took a hesitant step toward him, then had to catch herself against the stone obelisk as another strong gust hit them.

Unfortunately, he still couldn’t find the Kraken. Then it occurred to him: The grassberg was flying. What if the ship was actually beneath them? For all he knew, they could be floating above another island of soft pillows or a jungle made of convenient ladders. He needed to get a better look.

“Hold on,” he told Marrill. “I’m going over!” And with that, he slung himself right over the edge of the floating islet.

Fin’s head swam as the gravity twisted. His momentum shif

ted as what was

down up

became again.

The force of his fall snapped
him tightly around the edge of the islet, onto the grassy meadow once more.

Fin blinked, reorienting himself. The Stream was overhead now. They’d drifted closer to the central whirlpool already; between the swirling current and the growing storm, the islands of the Shattered Archipelago swarmed around it like bees around a hive. And there, weaving among them, he caught sight of the Kraken’s mainmast. She was farther out than he’d expected, tacking her way around the outer rim of the great whirlpool to keep from getting sucked in. But she was headed back their way.

“Right, they’re coming around to us!” he shouted up to Marrill. “We just have to hold on until they get here.…”

Underneath, they passed over the ruins of an ancient building, formed from some kind of smooth mud he didn’t recognize, sticking out from the Stream on a pinnacle of clay. A moment later, and they were past it, crossing over a lonesome chunk of tundra, covered in crooked arctic scrub and sending puffs of frost into the air.

“Blisterwinds,” he murmured. They were picking up speed. When the Kraken got here, here they wouldn’t be.

He headed back to Marrill, this time	flipping
	an awesome
somersault

as he jumped over the edge of the islet.

Down became down once more, and the whole grassberg tilted when he landed. Marrill looked more terrified than impressed. She clung more tightly than ever to the stone monument, the wind flicking at her hair. Behind her, the dark clouds cracked with carnelian light.

“The Kraken’s circling for us, but we’re headed out over the whirlpool,” he told her. “And if they get closer, they’ll get sucked in.”

Marrill shivered against the breeze. “So what do we do?”

Fin shrugged. If only he had his skysails, he might be able to wing them down to the ship. But his jacket was still on the Kraken; he hadn’t exactly been planning on getting sucked off the ship by a floating meadow when he’d gotten dressed that morning. “No idea,” he confessed.

Marrill chewed her lip. “Okay, think.” She looked up. “The Kraken is going around the whirlpool, right?” Fin nodded. “And we’re cutting across the middle?”

“We can run into them on the other side!” Fin cried, finishing her thought. She nodded. Thunder boomed in the distance.

“Back in a tick,” Fin said. With a quick turn, he dropped back

over

the edge, and down became up again. Beneath him, the storm clouds unfolded like a quilt across the upside-down sky. He shook his head and stumbled. Changing gravity was a bit of a head rush.

A moment later, he was able to take stock of the situation. They were moving out over the whirlpool proper now; the water swirled above him like an inside-out tornado. Before long, they’d be straight over the center, and headed on toward the other side.

The Kraken, meanwhile, had already passed behind them; he could make out Ardent waving his hands frantically on the deck. The ship was racing between the bobbing islands, cutting her way around the outside of the whirlpool, already so far in that Fin could practically hear Coll cursing from here. But there was no way they would reach the other side by the time Fin and Marrill did.

Not unless Fin found some way to change the islet’s direction, anyway. A little to the right, and maybe they could make it. But how could they steer a flying chunk of grass and rock?

His thoughts were interrupted by the flare of red lightning, slashing up through the air to smash into sparks on the golden water above. Fin looked up. At first, what he saw didn’t register. Just a darkness, low and fast at the edge of his vision. And then he understood what he was seeing.

She was deep and black, just like he remembered her. All jagged edges and cold metal, a rusty razor scraping across the surface of the Stream. His chest clenched. She was too far away yet for him to make out the shadow crew, nor could he see the cruel shape of her Master. But it was the Iron Ship, no doubt. And it was headed straight for them.

The ground seemed to tremble beneath his feet as he remembered her smashing through the stern of the Black Dragon. Her awful crew of shadows spilling forth to do battle with Serth’s weeping pirates. Fire leaping from her bow as she circled the Kraken.

“Shanks,” he muttered.

Without waiting, he launched himself over

the edge

of the island

feeling

gravity

reverse

as he came down again on the top. The island rocked beneath him with the force of his landing. Marrill hugged the obelisk. Her lips were tight, eyes wide, her hair flying wild in the wind. Clearly she’d seen it, too.

“But it sank,” she protested. “In the Pirate Stream. We watched it go under.”

Another shaft of lightning crashed down. The first fat raindrop sploshed cold against Fin’s cheek. “Yeah,” he managed. Instinctively, he bent his knees to keep from falling as the island swayed beneath his feet.

Then it hit him. The island rocked beneath his feet. It was still moving from the impact of his last jump. If he could move it that much that easily, maybe they could move it even more together. Enough, even, to change its direction.

“All right, I’ve got an idea,” he told Marrill. “We moved the island before from jumping on it, right?” She gave him a confused look. “We can do it again, and move it over to the Kraken!”

“Say what now?”

He waved her over to him urgently. Reluctantly, she let go of the carved stone and teetered toward him, bracing against the wind and growing rain. He reached out for her hand as she crept close.

“Think of it like flipping a coin,” he told her. “If you put it right over your thumb before you flip it, it goes straight up and comes straight back down. But if you put your thumb just barely under one side…”

“You can shoot it across the room!” Marrill squeaked. “Fin, you’re a genius!” He smirked, even as he edged them around the side of the island, trying to choose just the right spot. “Okay,” Marrill said. “We can do this. We just have to figure out how fast they’re moving, how fast we’re moving, and the distance each of us has to cover in the same amount of time. Then we take, um… the… uh, radius of the circle… and divide by…” She screwed up her eyes. “Hypotenuse… a train leaves Denver…”

“Or we could just eyeball it,” Fin suggested. He looked down, over the edge. They were out over the whirlpool for real now; any misstep and there was nothing between them and swirling death. He could just make out the Kraken, racing around the outer edge of the spiral, trying to catch up. And in the distance, the Iron Ship.

Rain dripped through his hair, running down his nose. It was now or never. “Ready?” he asked. Before she could even answer, he leapt off the side with all his might, dragging her with him.

She screamed.

“Cannonball!” he shouted.

The shifting gravity tugged them

down,

back down,

and

SMASHED

them

feetfirst into the soft grass of the field.

The whole island shuddered with the impact,

and turned

spinning

end

over

end.

Up up. Sky clouds.

became became became became

down waves

Marrill shrieked. Fin tumbled one way, then the other. He couldn’t tell what the gravity was. Or if it was.

He fell through the grass (up the grass?), over the edge (around the edge?) and over the rocky ground (under the rocky ground?). He snatched for the obelisk as the islet flipped again.

Gravity no longer mattered; now it was just a struggle to keep from getting thrown off. He clung to the stone, questioning his life choices, his legs flung out toward the moving horizon. In one bold moment, he dared a look over his shoulder.

Sure enough, they’d changed directions. They were going to meet the Kraken. All he had to do was hold on, and then…

“Whaaauuahauhaut nowwoowooowww?” Marrill’s voice came from somewhere that could have been below, or maybe above, him. Fin gulped. He’d honestly figured they would just play this part by ear.

“Maaaarriiiiiilllll!” Coll’s voice carried up to him. Fin’s stomach lurched as he looked toward the Stream, but he could see the Kraken, slicing across the swirling water toward them. They were nearly there. But he had no idea how to get off the twirling island.

“Throowwwussssroooopes!” Marrill shrieked nearby. “Rooooppebooone!!!”

“On it!” Ardent’s voice came. In the next second, Fin caught a glimpse of the Ropebone Man, whipping his corded arms toward them. One headed nearly straight at him. But it was too short to reach. Then the island flipped end over end once more.

On the far side, he could see the entirety of the whirlpool, swirling and sucking. He could see the storm, rolling in fast. And the Iron Ship, cutting in through the edge of the Archipelago. The island flipped once more.

And suddenly, a tangle of ropes shot out everywhere. As each rope neared the island, the strange gravity pulled it in, holding it tight in the air. Marrill was already sliding down one toward the ship. Fin gulped and jumped for another. He snagged it and held tight.

The next thing he knew, he was falling.

“Yaaaaahhh!!!!!” Fin screamed. The rope pulled taut, swinging him over the Kraken’s deck.

The ship rocked and turned sideways as the current pulled on her. The rope tossed him about. He struggled to keep hold. But just as he thought he couldn’t take any more, a thick hand grabbed his ankle and held on to it. Then another. Then another. A second later, he was scrambling and kicking across the tilting deck.

“This what you were looking for?” the Naysayer yelled to the rigging. Fin threw his arms around the monster. He’d never been so happy to see the old lizard.

“That’s him!” Marrill’s voice sounded. Overhead, she lay suspended in a net made from rigging, snagged safe and sound by the Ropebone Man. They’d made it.

Sort of, anyway. The Kraken twisted and turned as it surfed the growing current. Lightning crashed all around them, turning the whole world bloody. The Iron Ship was almost on top of them. Her black metal prow sheered through the surf. The Master stared coldly from her bow. Red energy danced between his fingers.

Fin swallowed and scrambled to his feet. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure escaping the grassberg had been such a good idea. All he could see was spiraling water, whirling around the abyss that was the heart of the Shattered Archipelago.

AT THE HEART OF THIS BROKEN WORLD LIES THE SYPHON OF MONERVA

The obelisk’s words suddenly took on new meaning. Sailors like Pickled Pate had been vanishing here, and reappearing, for ages. There was only one place they could have gone.

“It’s here,” he breathed. “The Wish Machine is down the whirlpool.”

“Haul the ropes, pirats!” Coll shouted. “We have to get away from the whirlpool!”

Fin leapt forward. “No!” he screamed. “Go in! Go in! Marrill, the Syphon is down the whirlpool!”

“Do it!” Marrill cried. “The Iron Ship is coming!” Just across the water, the Master of the Iron Ship raised his hand, preparing to attack.

Fin looked to Ardent. The wizard braced against the mast, grinding his jaw with worry. His bearded chin nodded toward Coll.

From his perch on the quarterdeck, the sailor nodded back. “All hands, brace yourselves,” he shouted. “We’re going down!”

Red lightning seared the air as the Kraken turned into the current. Fin clung fast to the Naysayer. And in the scariest thing that happened yet, the Naysayer didn’t fight him. Because up ahead, the water gaped open, waiting to swallow them whole.