CHAPTER 21

The King of Salt and Sand

Marrill wasn’t sure she’d heard right. This little feeble creature wrapped in rags was the Salt Sand King? The King who’d united the Boundless Plains? Who’d built the Wall and first used the Wish Machine?

She had to admit, she’d expected someone grander. Pity stabbed at her—how far the poor creature had fallen. After the Dawn Wizard tricked him, the angry beetles must have forced him into exile on the Burning Plain and left him out here to fend for himself. If the bandages were any indication, it hadn’t been an easy existence. She didn’t even want to think about how many times he’d been burned, or what injuries those bandages might conceal.

For a moment she wondered what the proper etiquette was in a situation like this. Did one bow to a king? Curtsy? She glanced around, hoping to take cues from the others, but they all seemed to just be staring.

Except for Ardent, of course. “Most noble host, thank you for taking the time to speak with us,” he said. “We’ve come searching for information and with the hope of some assistance.”

The Salt Sand King said nothing but “Yunh!” in a tone that sounded more like fingernails down a chalkboard than speech. Marrill clenched her teeth, trying not to cringe.

“We’re hoping for your help against a most dangerous foe. A powerful being of unknown origin, who seeks to unleash a great evil onto the Pirate Stream.” Ardent held his hand up to the brim of his hat. “He’s about this tall, has a very fine beard, wears a suit of armor.”

“I’m familiar, yunh?” the Salt Sand King said. “He came for the Syphon of Monerva.”

Marrill gasped. “Did you tell him?”

The Salt Sand King spun, fixing her with his gaze. “Yunh,” he grunted. “And why wouldn’t I?”

Ardent stepped forward. “We’d like the same informa—”

“Can’t help you,” the Salt Sand King spat before Ardent could finish.

Annalessa stepped forward and placed a hand on Ardent’s sleeve. “Let me try,” she murmured.

Turning to address the Salt Sand King, she said, “Most honorable King, it’s very important to us to find this Syphon and stop—”

The Salt Sand King cut her off. “You’re a wizard, yunh?”

She smiled and nodded. “I am.”

“I spoke wrongly. I meant to say I won’t help you, yunh?” he hissed. “I don’t work with wizards. Tricksters, the lot of you.”

It was all too much for Marrill. “But the Master of the Iron Ship is a wizard,” she pointed out. “Isn’t he?”

The Salt Sand King shrugged. “And I don’t trust him either, yunh? But someone had to go to the Syphon and grant my wish. Now I don’t need to work with wizards anymore. So I won’t.”

Frustration bubbled through her. She didn’t understand why he didn’t get it, why he wouldn’t help. “But we have to stop him, he’s bad!” She stomped her foot. “He’s going to cause the Iron Tide and destroy the Pirate Stream.”

The Salt Sand King fixed her with eyes that glowed a flickering shade of red. She swallowed, forcing herself to hold her ground. “And how do you know about this Iron Tide?” he asked, taking a step toward her.

Sweat trickled down the back of Marrill’s neck. The air in the clearing was so hot it almost felt physical, like a weight in her lungs. “Because it already happened.”

The Salt Sand King tilted his head to the side. “It has? The Stream has been destroyed and I missed it, yunh?”

Marrill glanced at the others. None of them looked eager to intervene. “I mean, the Tide hasn’t happened yet but it does. We know it will. Because people have talked about it in the past.” She waved her hand in the air, trying to explain. “Which is also… the future.”

Her shoulders slumped. Even she realized how ridiculous it all sounded. “Just please.” Her voice cracked and she bit her lip, trying to stem the sting of tears already clawing its way up the back of her throat. “Everything I love is at stake here. I have to stop the Syphon.”

The Salt Sand King moved closer, his voice dropping low like the hiss of steam. “I know what it is to lose all that you love. Even more, I know how it feels to be responsible for that loss—to have it all fall on your shoulders.”

Relief flooded Marrill’s system. She let out a long breath. He understood! “So you’ll help us?”

Behind the rags wrapping his face, the Salt Sand King’s eyes pulsed, the coals of a dying fire. His clawlike hands reached for hers. She forced herself not to cringe or pull away as his grip closed around her fingers.

He was hot, more than hot. His touch was almost burning. “I know what it is to want. I know what it is to lose. But even more than that, I know what it is to be tricked.”

He spoke as though his words were meant only for her. “I can feel the way your want calls to the fire.” His entire body seemed to glow with orange light. He dropped her hand, stumbling back. “All of you—all your desires burn fiercely enough to consume you. To blind you. To deceive you.”

He spun, his attention falling to Fin. “And you, boy, what is it that you want?”

Fin’s eyes went wide, as though he was surprised to have been noticed. “Um… I… uh… like she said. I want to stop the Syphon.”

The Salt Sand King threw his head back, cackling like the popping of dried wood on a fire. “You cannot lie to your King; you realize this, yunh?”

When Fin only blinked in response, the Salt Sand King laughed louder. “What is it you do not understand? That I am your King? Or that what you just said was a lie?” He held.is rag-wrapped arms wide. “Because both are true. Yunh?”

“I…” Fin glanced at Marrill but then darted his eyes away. “Er… wasn’t lying.” His cheeks seemed to darken, and it took a moment for Marrill to understand.

She gasped. He’d lied. About wanting to stop the Syphon. Even though they both knew that was the only way to save her world. “Fin?”

But the Salt Sand King wasn’t finished. He stalked toward Fin. “You don’t want to stop the Syphon, because you know using it is the only way for you to be remembered.” He poked his clawed hand at Fin’s chest. “Because you don’t understand the gift that you have. How important your skills can be. What I had to give up for you to have the power to slip in and out of memory.”

Marrill’s heart stopped. Fin’s mouth dropped open. She could see his lips trembling, his fingers quivering.

“I know who you are,” the Salt Sand King hissed. “I know what you are. Yunh?”

But before the Salt Sand King could say anything more, Ardent strode between the two. “Enough of this nonsense,” he said with a swipe of his hand. “You will tell us how to find the Syphon of Monerva.”

A shiver passed down Marrill’s spine at the sharpness of Ardent’s voice. Whatever the King had been saying vanished in the wake of it. “Remind me to never tick him off,” Remy breathed beside her.

The Salt Sand King cackled. “Directions, yunh? That’s what you’re asking for? You poor, poor wizard. You don’t even know how lost you truly are, do you?” He cocked his head toward Marrill. “Never trust a wizard, and now you know why,” he chortled. “The Dawn Wizard buried the Syphon deep, he did. And only two folks know the trick to getting in or out.” He paused. “Well, three folks now that I’ve shared that tidbit with that ironclad gent.”

“You helped him, but you won’t help us?” Ardent practically growled the question.

“Perhaps I already have helped you as well. Yunh?” the Salt Sand King countered. “Everything in pairs, you see? You and he! The Dawn Wizard and me! And two doors, land and sea!”

“Enough!” Ardent shouted. Marrill cringed at the force of the word. “Stop playing games.”

The Salt Sand King hopped from one foot to the other. “But a game it has become, yunh? The pieces are set, the moves already arranged. And you”—he threw his arm toward the wizard—“have already lost!”

For a moment, nothing happened. And then a strange sucking noise seemed to pierce the air, almost like a giant inhaling. Not even like inhaling. Like a giant coughing, but in reverse. Smoke leaked from the gaps in the Salt Sand King’s bandages.

And suddenly Marrill knew exactly what would happen next. She lunged toward Ardent, snagging his sleeve and yanking him to the side. “Fire can hide!” she shouted.

They made it only two steps before the Salt Sand King exploded into flames.

Ardent pulled Marrill behind his robes as heat blasted over them. “Run!” he shouted, shoving her toward the ring of ships circling the clearing.

Marrill didn’t need to be told twice. She sprinted hard, not caring that every breath seared her throat. Ahead, a patch of ground blazed to life, causing her to skid and pivot.

But there was fire there, too. It wavered and flickered and paced beside her, like a thing alive—a creature stalking her. And then it wasn’t like a creature—it was a creature: an enormous burning tiger, its coat orange fire and black smoke, its eyes burning with green flame.

A scream clawed up Marrill’s throat. Her muscles tensed, ready to run. But if this creature was anything like the real tigers she’d studied while her family lived in India, she knew running would be the worst move possible.

Instead she dropped her eyes and hunched her shoulders. “It’s okay,” she murmured, slowly backing away. The creature padded a slow arc around her, catching more of the plain ablaze with every step.

“Marrill!” a voice called from somewhere behind her. “What are you doing? Run!” The fire tiger crouched. Every flick of its tail sent sparks flying.

Then it pounced. Marrill dropped to the ground and rolled, throwing her hands over her face. The creature bounded past her, the heat of it singeing the hair from her arms.

As she lay there catching her breath, a thin, wispy trail of smoke rose up from the ground beside her. Carefully, she pushed onto her hands and knees, crawling slowly backward. The smoke came thicker, wormlike. Snakelike.

She patted at the ground, searching for a weapon but finding hunks of charred wood instead. They would have to do. She grabbed one in each hand.

With a sudden burst, the trail of smoke resolved into a serpent. Two sparks glowed for eyes. Burning orange fangs seared the air. Headed straight at her. She flung one of the pieces of charcoal at the creature and ran.

“This way!” a voice called. Through the smoke, she saw a boy crouched against the hull of one of the ships, waving for her.

She veered toward him, leaping over a flaming alligator and dodging through a flock of burning bats. Behind her the fire chased, licking and snapping at her heels almost playfully, driving her onward. She reached the ship and the boy pushed her toward a ladder. “Go!” he shouted.

She shoved the other piece of charcoal in her pocket and climbed. On the deck, she was relieved to find the rest of the Kraken crew, all slightly singed but none seriously burned. Even their beetle guide and the two firefleers were there, bronze bowls clattering as they huddled together.

Overhead, the old sails flapped and snapped, while around them fire crackled through the grasslands. Serpents of smoke twisted through the air. Green flame eyes moved through the brush. But for some reason, they left the ship alone.

“What now?” She coughed as she wiped her blackened hands against her shirt. No one seemed to have an answer. “You’re sure you can’t just magic away the fire?” she asked the two wizards.

They both shook their heads.

“This fire was given life by the Dawn Wizard,” Ardent said. “One of the greatest of the Dzane. And as you know, what the Dzane have made, only the power of the Dzane can destroy.”

Tears of frustration and fear pricked Marrill’s eyes. She turned away. Behind her, Rysacg stood by the firefleers, his demeanor as calm and steady as ever. “I don’t suppose you have any ideas?” she asked him.

“You could try not wanting,” he suggested.

Marrill could only snort in response. Not wanting was impossible. Especially now, when there was so much at stake. She needed to save her world and save her mom and get home safely with Remy. She wanted to stay on the Stream and keep having adventures, and she wanted it to be possible to have all of that at the same time.

It all burned so hot inside her that it felt like she’d swallowed the fire of the plain herself. “Everything wants,” she growled at the beetle, stomping her foot. Her outburst startled one of the firefleers, causing it to back swiftly away from her and cower.

Marrill felt a stab of guilt. “I’m sorry, little one,” she cooed, holding out a hand. Her heart hurt to see it so scared. As upset as she was, the firefleer was basically just an animal, with no idea what was going on. She wished it could just fly away, taking them all with it.

A thought occurred to her. “Hey, Ardent,” she called. “Could you give the firefleers wings?”

“Of course,” the wizard said, nodding. “But not useful ones,” he added, before her hopes could rise. “If you’ll recall, I made a promise to the wind when you last left the Stream that I would not call on it again; I can’t ask it to support my creations now.” Under his breath, he mumbled, “You’d think the villainous vapor would be willing to renegotiate at some point, but no.”

Another gust of wind scorched up from the plain, rattling the rigging and bathing the ship in smoke. Marrill choked, her eyes stinging and lungs burning.

They needed a way out, fast.

The firefleer nudged her gently. She stroked its leg, wishing it really did have wings. Working ones, anyway. Overhead, the ship’s sails flapped and snapped.

Suddenly, those thoughts came together in Marrill’s head. Firefleer. Wings. Sail. Hot air. Flying. Marrill’s mind raced back to a memory of being young. Going on a balloon ride with her mom out over Coney Island in New York.

Hot air lifted the balloon! She nearly wept with joy. “Ardent!” she yelled. The beleaguered wizard was stroking his now soot-covered beard, debating the merits of manual magical manipulation with Annalessa. “Can you attach that sail to the firefleers?” she asked, pointing.

The wizard looked at her quizzically. “Well, yes, certainly, but I don’t know how we’re going to sail an AMFF.…”

Coll stepped forward. “I’ll handle the sailing,” he said confidently. He leaned over to Marrill. “What am I sailing again?”

“You’ll see,” Marrill told him. Quickly, she explained to Ardent just what she wanted. With a zip and a magic snip, the sails came loose, and he fashioned them into balloons and attached them with ropes to the two firefleers.

“Hot-air balloons?” Remy clapped. “Marrill Aesterwest, you little genius. Okay, math homework is forgiven. This once.”

A few moments later, Marrill gently coaxed the two firefleers out onto the ship’s old bowsprit—one for Rysacg and one for the rest of them. She cupped her hands around her mouth. “I want a great big glass of ice water! I want an A on my geometry homework! I want a vacation to the CrystalShadow Wastes about now!”

The others chimed in, shouting their desires. Even Rysacg managed an “I’d like to go home now, please.” The fire roared beneath them, hot air and smoke filling the balloons.

Rysacg’s took off first, lifting slowly, then drifting higher. He waved a clawed hand in their direction. “I want you to have the best of luck!” he shouted. The flames surged. Marrill had to strain to keep a grip on their own ’fleer as the rest of the crew piled on board.

She jumped in after them. “I want to find that Syphon!” she yelled, stoking the fire. “I want to save my world and my mom!” Heat blasted her in the face. She felt the jolt of their balloon taking off.

She let out a wild whoop of success, but it caught in her throat at Remy’s panicked cry of “Plus One!” The babysitter lunged over the rim of the bowl, almost tipping the thing. Coll grabbed her, hauling her back in. She struggled against his grip. “We can’t leave him!” she said, pointing.

Marrill looked back, mind scrambling. Sure enough, they’d left someone behind. “Come on!” she called to him. “Hurry!”

But the boy didn’t move. He just stood there, an intense look of regret on his face, watching as the balloon lifted higher and higher. Panic and confusion washed over Marrill. She didn’t understand—why wasn’t he coming?

“What are you doing?” she cried.

“It’s okay, Marrill!” he shouted from below. “I have to stay! Just go and stop the Syphon, all right?”

There was a moment as they rose, just a moment, when she could have jumped. When she could have stayed behind. When it wasn’t too late to save him.

But then the moment was gone.

“Fin.” The word formed on her lips, but she couldn’t say for the life of her what meaning it might have held.

As the balloon climbed higher, she thought she heard the dry crackle of the fire laughing. And she couldn’t for the life of her remember why she would even think about jumping.