Down by Jailor’s Pier the docks were filled with sloops and schooners, brigs and clippers, vessels of all kinds and shapes, some driven by sail, others by paddle. They crammed the bay, anchor lines stretching in every direction, the boats rocking back and forth as the wind caught this one or that one. A galley with fifty paddles rowed past Uma, the men chanting in time, the oars beating the water. Seagulls filled the air with their shrieks, adding to the cacophony of chants and mixing with the hawkers’ cries from their stalls. Uma crouched on a makeshift raft she’d fashioned from one of the shop’s old tables, a broom handle, and a bedsheet. It was seaworthy enough to sail on the bay for a small race, but would not be able to handle more than that. A great cutter sailed past her, and its wake nearly sent her tumbling overboard. Next to her, Harry was bobbing up and down in a bathtub, using a shower curtain for a sail. The wake half-filled his tub, and immediately he had to bail furiously to keep the thing from sinking. Even empty, the tub barely floated. It hung at water level, and each time it tipped, a bit of water ran into it. All in all, he’d done more bailing than sailing, Uma noticed with wicked glee. It was all he could do to keep afloat.

“Let’s go over there,” she told Harry, leading them through the assortment of ships. They passed a few goblins on an old junk, one of those ancient boats from Northern Wei, sporting a red sail like the fin of some exotic fish.

“Check that out,” said Uma, as the junk sailed out of their path to reveal a pair of witches sitting in great buckets rowing with giant spoons.

“Where do you suppose you get a spoon that size?” asked Harry. “And what’s it for?”

“Well, it’s for eating little boys,” Uma said, coughing up her best impression of a witch’s cackle. “I think your head would fit nicely on that spoon.”

“I see your point. Let’s steer clear,” said Harry.

“Already ahead of you,” she replied, sailing the other way. Neither of them wanted to get any closer to the witches or goblins.

“Looks like everyone’s after the prize,” said Uma, and she didn’t mean just the pirate ship. The water was full of goblins clad in snorkel gear and thugs flailing around in old fins and rusty scuba apparatuses—all of them looking for the trident, combing every bit of the ocean floor.

“So many,” said Uma, her heart sinking a bit in her chest. News of King Triton’s trident had gone out, it seemed, and half the island was looking for the golden spear. Uma watched them nervously. Some had maps and others had formed groups. They were drawing grids across the bay and moving zone by zone, covering every inch. They were all as eager to find it as she was, and that worried Uma. The whole island’s gone mad for the trident, she thought, and while I’m trying to win a boat, they’re already combing the sea.

Next to her, Harry whistled at a goblin swimming by the junk. “Ahoy! What sort of junk are you looking to find?” he asked with a grin.

Harry must have been hoping the goblin would take him up on the joke, but he received an honest reply. “A trident! Haven’t you heard?” said the green little fellow.

“That golden thing? I heard the mermen saw it on the other side of the Isle!” Harry said, then winked at Uma. He whispered, “Thought I’d throw them off the scent!”

“Wonderful,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “There are hundreds looking for the trident, maybe more, and you’ve thrown one off course.”

“It’s a start,” said Harry, shrugging.

Over by the edge of the harbor, Captain Hook had finally made his appearance. He sauntered down one of the larger docks, the planks creaking beneath his weight, the wind at his back. He wore his characteristic red jacket and an enormous red hat with an even larger white plume dangling over the brim, swaying this way and that as he walked.

“Dad really knows how to make an entrance,” said Harry.

Captain Hook stopped at the end of the dock and stepped onto a soapbox so everyone could see him. All around Harry and Uma, the competition readied itself. Henchmen wrestled with sails, ropes were flung aside or unwrapped from the docks. A great buzz of excitement and preparation built, and Uma stood a little taller in her raft. Hers was one of the smallest boats in the race, but she was confident in her victory. That ship was hers, and so was that trident.

“How are we even going to get out of the harbor?” Harry replied. “This place is so choked with boats that it’ll be an hour before we sail past any of them.”

“Mmm,” said Uma.

Suddenly all oars were in the air and everyone’s eyes darted toward the dock. Captain Hook had raised his hooked hand high into the air to indicate that the race was about to begin.

Uma gritted her teeth. She was ready. Captain Hook lowered his hand as Smee fired the starting pistol. The race was on!

A fury of sails and splashing oars overwhelmed the bay. Sailors were yelling, goblins were giggling, witches were gaggling. It was a terrible ruckus, and the water churned, once more filling Harry’s tub and threatening to drag him down if he didn’t bail fast enough. “We’ll never be able to sail faster than those ships on these things,” Harry shouted.

“Oh, you just figured this out?” Uma said.

“And you knew that?”

“Yeah, and that’s why I’m going to beat you,” Uma said as she coiled a rope around her forearm. She’d fixed a noose at the end and she checked it now to make sure it would work.

Then she threw the rope high into the air. It arched over a diver, past a rowboat full of pirates, and landed soundly on a cleat attached to a small motorboat. She gave it a little tug to cinch the knot around the cleat, but there was no need. The boat’s engine roared to life, and immediately the rope tightened, jerking her little craft forward. If she hadn’t moored the rope to the deck of her raft, it would have been yanked from her hands. Even now it threatened to tear her craft apart. The boards moaned and creaked, but the raft held. Soon she was skipping across the waves, bounding up and down like a magic carpet tethered to a rocket.

Before she knew it, Uma was out of the bay and on the open sea. She’d chosen the fastest of the lot to hitch on to, and now they were in the lead. There was just one problem: since she was tethered to the goblins and her rope was fairly long, the goblins would likely win the race.

But only if they make it to the finish line, she thought.

Behind her, Harry was paddling furiously, still trying to make his way out of the boat-swamped harbor. He smashed right into one of the great galleys. Then he had to wait as more and more ships passed in front of him. By the time Uma caught sight of him again, half the bay was empty. Harry’s shower curtain caught the wind, but it was too late. He was already taking up the rear. Ha!

But Uma didn’t celebrate long. Harry’s bathtub crashed into the nearest sailing ship, and he quickly abandoned it, jumping onto the catamaran. Since the ships were so crowded together, he was able to hopscotch from ship to ship all the way to the front.

Uma watched Harry’s progress with narrowed eyes until she remembered she had her own problems. There was a tug on the cord and she swung the sail around just in time to catch sight of a pair of goblins gnawing furiously at the rope she’d attached to their speedboat. Once they finished, she was done, but all that gnawing seemed to be going awfully slowly and the knot was cinched too tightly for them to pull it off the cleat.

And that was when she saw the screwdriver.

She’d forgotten that goblins were clever folk. While one gnawed at the rope, the other started undoing the screws that secured the cleat. They were both in a race to cut her loose, and sooner rather than later one of them would win.

But Uma was not quite ready to lose her chance. She pulled on the rope, yanking on it so hard that it knocked one goblin straight into the water. Uma smiled at the little green fellow as she sped past him. She yanked again, this time harder, pulling her raft closer to the goblin craft. She noticed that when she gave it a good pull, the goblins’ boat jerked wildly to one side. So she pulled again as the remaining goblin worked furiously at the screws.

The two were locked in their own race now.

He’d loosened two or three of the screws, and the cleat was hanging halfway off the back of the boat. A few more screws and Uma would be set adrift in the water while the goblin claimed the prize.

Fearless as ever, Uma gave the rope another strong tug, coiling it as much as she could. When it was as tight as she could make it, she let it go, and the rope whipped wildly back into the air, snapping the goblin in the face and sending him tumbling into the water. She cackled as she passed him, just as she realized there was no one left on the motorboat.

The goblins had tied the steering wheel in place and jammed the throttle into gear while they tended to her rope. This was probably why the boat had veered to and fro when she pulled at it. There was no one to correct the boat’s course. It was hers for the taking.

If she could reach it.

The cleat rattled, and one of the screws flew off. It tumbled through the air and landed with a plunk as it struck the water. Only one screw still held the cleat in place, and it was already halfway out of its socket.

She tugged cautiously on the rope. If she pulled too hard she might yank that last screw loose, but if she waited too long the screw would come loose. Either way, the boat would be gone. And the motorboat was not the only fast ship on the water. All this tugging and swerving had slowed its progress, and she saw now that two or three of the larger sailing ships had caught up to the goblin boat. Even the galley was closing in, its oars beating the water, the oarsmen chanting.

“Yoo-hoo!” Harry called with a broad grin from the top of the sailing ship barreling toward the lead.

Uma could never be his first mate!

She needed to hurry.

One tug. A second.

She pulled and pulled, and that cleat held. It whipped back and forth, pivoting about that last screw, but it was still attached. Fortunately, the force of all the pulling made the screw bend, so it had stopped twisting itself free. But now it looked as though it might break in two.

She gave another tug. One more.

She was closer to the boat. She could try to jump the gap, but it was still too wide. So she gave the line another pull, gently dragging herself toward the stern of the out-of-control motorboat.

The cleat bent. The last screw flew loose.

Uma tugged one last time, pulling herself just a little closer, and just as the whole thing fell apart she leaped through the air, arms outstretched, reaching for the stern of the boat.

She caught it! She was flattened against the back, but she hung on, and with her other arm she reached up and pulled herself aboard.

She did it!

She was at the helm of the fastest boat in the race, except she was no longer winning the race. All that fussing around had allowed three, no, four ships to sail ahead of the goblin boat, including Harry’s, which was now in the lead.

Uma hurried to the helm, tore free the ropes holding the wheel in place, and jammed the throttle into gear.