Chapter Thirteen

Tolver

The prospector ship Declension caught up fast to the small mail boat. Its goblin crew peered over the gunwales.

Julius held his medallion to his chest as he leaned. Tolver looked too. His eyes widened as he spotted the occupants of the boat. Sam, a human girl, and Nana.

When the inventor spotted the dark-haired humans, he whispered to Tolver, “Those two down there aren’t boglins, are they?”

Tolver shook his head, “But Nana’s down there too. They must have—” he swallowed, thinking fast—”kidnapped her. They’re probably dangerous. You should tell the crew to leave the boat alone.”

Julius squinted and then held his hand out for Tolver’s binoculars. When Tolver hesitated, Julius snapped his fingers. “Come on, be quick!”

Tolver unclipped the binoculars and held his breath as the inventor peered through them at the water below. “She doesn’t seem to be kidnapped. She’s even pointing her switch toward us.”

“Perhaps she’s coming to rescue us.” Tolver hoped so.

“In that tiny boat?” Julius scoffed. “Even your grandmother couldn’t take on a fully armed prospector ship under sail.”

“Don’t you want to be rescued?” Tolver had spent the entire day under the impression that Julius had been conscripted, just like him, because Julius had implied exactly that. “You’re the most famous inventor in the marshbogs, even better than Nana.”

“I’m getting along just fine here, actually,” Julius said. “Being famous in the marshbogs isn’t as exciting as being famous across the realms. You’ll understand much better once you make your way on the ship like me.” He absentmindedly brushed his hand over the fancy embroidery on his jacket.

“Plus,” he added, “there’s an unfortunate aspect to being the marshbogs’ best inventor. You only get paid in eggs and mediocre words. Now?” He grinned. “I plan to be famous and rich.”

Tolver’s stomach dropped even farther. He watched with dread as his grandmother raised a small red flag on the mail boat’s stern. It meant she had hot air she wanted to trade.

The setting sun cast a long shadow over the small boat as the prospector ship bore down fast on their position. “Get ready,” Julius whispered, mostly to himself.

The prospector’s vessel made loud clanging noises as its engines processed hot air and released it for propulsion. Tolver could feel the baffles stretching and compressing above as the breeze ruffled his hair.

The ship moved much faster than Nana could with the mail boat.

The young goblin felt ill. Why hadn’t he given Sam his words when he could have, back on the island? Why did he ever use the compass? His eyes narrowed to slits and he blinked fast.

When the prospector ship caught up with its shadow, its crew dropped long boarding lines. The ropes slapped the water and splashed the little boat. A lime-skinned goblin wearing heavy canvas overalls and a striped shirt, his fists bound in brass knuckles, leaned over the bow. Near the bowsprit, a pair of silvered wings extended, slowing the ship. At its portholes, The Declension began to bristle with weapons.

Tolver whispered, “What are we doing? They’re no danger to us! We’re huge! They’re tiny. They just want to trade!”

“We all heard what your nana did to The Colophon! Sent them all the way back to ground with her silverfish spell.”

“But she used her words up! Tell the captain to leave her alone!” Tolver cried. He tried to reach for his binoculars, but Julius caught his wrist.

“You don’t want to get sent to the brig before everything happens, do you?” the inventor whispered. “You’re heading in that direction.”

Tolver twisted, fighting down fear and anger. No, he didn’t want to get sent to the brig, not if there was a chance he could help.

Below, Nana waited until the ship and the goblins hanging from its ropes were close enough. Then she waved a wooden baseball bat. “If you come any closer, I’ll be forced to use my words, not trade them.”

Julius laughed, and the goblins kept coming.

“Fine then,” Nana yelled. “You two, hold on to something,” she told the children. “Tolver, we’re coming!”

While Tolver could barely hear his grandmother, he did catch her meaning. The two humans grabbed each side of the small wooden hull. Nana slid to the middle of the little boat and raised her bat until it was pointed at the ship’s airbag. “Undoooo!” she shouted. Tolver could barely hear her.

The mail boat rocked in the water, as if something powerful had pushed it. But only a clinking sound came from the bat.

Tolver looked more closely at The Declension’s hull. Instead of cannons, large wooden poles extended from the portals. Switches. Very big ones.

Words sounded from the two portals in the ship’s sides. “Capture!”

“That’s all she’s got?” Julius clasped his hands. “Oh, Gwendoline, how sad!”

The wind carried the ship’s spells out across the water, where they splayed into translucent, glittering ropes. Soon, the little boat became entangled in sticky nets full of magic.

Sam, Nana, and the girl were trapped beneath the spells. They couldn’t move.

Julius laughed and hopped from one foot to the other. “Perfect!”

Meantime, more nets wrapped around Nana’s spell, still clattering through the air, and stopped it reaching The Declension. The entire spell dropped like a stone and hit the water with an enormous GLUNK. Copper-colored bubbles fizzed as it sank.

“Countermeasures. And ones I taught you!” Nana shook her fist from the boat. “Julius, how could you!”

Julius’s silver hair blew every which way as he leaned over the gunwale. His brass medallion on its heavy chain thunked against the side of the boat. “It’s all about progress, Gwendoline. I dare for progress! The prospectors are going to make me rich.”

Nana struggled beneath the sticky net, trying to reach her bat. It had been knocked into the hull of the little boat. “Just as soon as I get up there, you’re going to get a piece of progress so loud,” Nana raged.

“Oh, I think not, dear.” The first mate, her long silver braid tucked around her pointy ears, waved the idea away like a gnat. “You won’t be coming with us.”

Three goblins swung down from the ship on the sturdy ropes as Julius stepped away from the hull and clapped a hand firmly over Tolver’s mouth as he struggled to keep an eye on his grandmother.

The descending goblins wore bandoliers with sticks tucked into them, goggles, and leather helmets. One was dressed in a dark cotton shirt and striped pants, another in overalls and a checked shirt. The third wore a long coat over skirts knotted to keep from tangling in the rigging. All of them had green skin of varying tones and bare feet thick with silver fuzz.

The two humans stared at the goblins, shocked. But as Tolver watched, the girl started shouting, then began to fend off the attackers with an oar. Her eyes were lit up, and she grimaced as the salt spray hit her face. She wasn’t scared at all. She was furious. Sam began to do the same.

It didn’t matter, though.

As Tolver struggled in Julius’s grip, the first goblins boarded the mail boat and grabbed Nana’s baseball bat. The broad goblin from the mess broke the bat in half, then half again, and passed the splinters to the first mate.

The first mate pointed the bat pieces at Nana and said, “Retrieve.”

“Not my spells,” Nana yelled.

“No!” Tolver said at the same time.

But it was too late. From Nana’s lips spilled five word ribbons. More rose from her basket. They flew through the air and wrapped themselves around the pieces of Nana’s broken bat.

Then the goblin prospector tucked the pieces into her top hat. “Thanks, ma’am,” she drawled. “Julius and Captain Bellfont will appreciate these. That was for The Colophon.’

Nana glared at her. Up above, Tolver bit Julius’s hand and struggled to free himself.

“You ingrate!” the inventor growled as he tucked Tolver tightly under his arm and shook his other hand in the air.

“Sam, jump!” Tolver yelled. “Swim away!”

But Sam didn’t jump. “I’m not leaving the others!”

The second goblin, in overalls, pulled the girl from the nets and then out of the boat by the collar of her yellow T-shirt. “This one’s fighty.” The girl tried to jerk herself free, but the goblin was too strong.

With rough motions, the goblins bound the two humans and hauled them up toward The Declension.

“You can’t do this!” The girl struggled against the rope and the air but then stopped once she got too high, afraid she might fall into the sea. Sam kicked at the goblins for as long as he could. Tolver worried they would get dropped. He didn’t want to be responsible for any more harm that might come to the humans.

Below, Nana struggled and yelled beneath the enchanted nets.

“You can’t just leave her there!” Tolver jerked against Julius’s grip.

“Make nice, or we’ll take your pretty words too,” said the first mate as she brought Sam on board. The girl clamped her mouth shut and glared.

“You can’t hold us,” Sam said. But then he looked around the ship and saw Tolver and deflated.

“Prospectors decide what prospectors can do. You and your friend are hereby conscripted to help with the cause,” the first mate said.

Julius finally let Tolver fall to the ground and strode toward the humans. “Well, what has Nana brought us,” he murmured. Against Julius’s now salt-stained sea coat, his medallion shone.

“You were her student!” Tolver cried. “You were her friend. How could you leave her lashed to the boat like that?”

“Nana? She’ll get herself out of there at some point,” Julius said. “She taught me so much over the years, from spells and making things to how to feel gratitude for all those eggs and fishes. I’ve exceeded her talents, obviously.” His fingers tapped absently on his medallion. “But I won’t show you any more of my ideas if you don’t behave.”

“No thank you,” the girl said. She turned her face toward the sky.

Julius lifted the pieces of Nana’s switch from his companion’s hands. They glittered with spells. He raised an eyebrow at one of the words. “At least she can no longer curse our ship.”

When a cabin door slammed open near the stern of the ship and Captain Bellfont emerged, Julius tucked the bat pieces into his coat pockets.

The prospectors who’d gathered Sam and his friend up from the boat below elbowed the humans into standing up straight. “Captain Bellfont, we found these two in the bog.”

Julius added, “We left the older boglin floating.”

Bellfont looked Sam and the girl up and down, squinting one dark eye at them and then the other. “You seem old enough to waste words.” His voice was as bellowy as Nana’s, but smoother. “How did you get to the marshbogs?”

“We have nothing to say to you.” The girl pressed her lips together stubbornly. Tolver was impressed and frightened for her.

“On my ship, you’ll answer when I ask,” the captain growled. The girl frowned, furious, but didn’t say anything more. “Take her to the brig.” He looked at Sam. “She can rejoin you after our next word-gathering expedition, if the two of you behave.”

“What? Wait!”

Broen restrained Sam and Tolver as Julius led Mason toward the bow of the ship. The first mate bent to unhook a well-oiled latch in the deck. When the hatch opened, a terrible stench wafted out. Julius dropped Mason inside and dusted off his hands, then kicked the hatch closed.

Sam turned green. Tolver turned even greener.

Far below, very tiny and getting smaller, Nana sat in the rowboat, furiously shaking her fist.

But she’s sitting up, Tolver thought. That was a start. I promise, Nana, we’ll get your spells back.

“Take your friend and get him something to eat,” the first mate said to Tolver. “Now.”

“Sorry about this,” Tolver nudged the stunned boy ahead of him. They climbed down a rope ladder and into the dark mess. Belowdecks, The Declension smelled like a vegetable bin gone bad and old socks gone moldy. As Sam stumbled past the tables, grimacing at the odor, Tolver reached out and pulled at his sleeve.

“Sam! What happened? What was Nana thinking? It’s going to take forever to earn her spells back. If they even let me try.”

“We have to get them back, Tolver,” Sam said. He stared at the plate before him. “And then my words too. I can’t stay here forever! Mason and I have to go home!”

Tolver bit his lip and drummed his fingers on the table. “We have to work together. I haven’t been exactly honest with you. I should have told you—”

“That you were going to take the words right off my cards? I’ll say!” Sam growled. “You can’t stop taking things, can you?”

On the contrary, Tolver thought. Right now, after seeing Nana lose so much, I don’t think I could stomach taking any more. He spoke very quietly. “Sam, I promise, I won’t take your words anymore. And I’ll get yours back.”

The mess was dim, especially with the portals blocked by the weapons above. But Tolver watched Sam stare at table, holding his breath.

Finally, Sam said, “I don’t know if I can believe you. You gave me your word last time.”

“I am really sorry,” Tolver said.

As he used the word, Sam sighed heavily. “At least you can say it.”

“I’ll work until I make everything better.” Tolver knew that was the only way to really apologize. “Why were you on the mail boat?”

“We had a plan,” Sam said. “We were going to trade some words for you, then go to the Depository. Obviously, we need a new plan now.” Sam laid his head on the table with a thud.

Tolver groaned. “Nana’s plans don’t always go straight, but they’re usually good. Tell me what else she said.”

“Something about an undoing spray,” Sam said. Sam tugged his bag open and very carefully showed Tolver what Nana had made. The bottle glittered with words. Sam lowered his voice. “Maybe we could take over the ship with it?”

Tolver laughed. “You can’t commandeer a prospector ship, Sam. You don’t even know how to fly one. Besides, there are too many goblins.”

“Do you know how to fly one?”

Tolver shook his head, then nodded, then shook it again. “Maybe a little? I’ve watched them enough. Look, what I’d do is go along with things for a little while. Eat the butter jerky.” Tolver paused as Sam made a face. This, he understood. “But stay away from the stew. Do what you’re told, then get off at the next port and find someone who will send you home. That’s what I was planning on trying to do.”

“But what about the Depository?” Sam whispered. “My words are there, you said.”

They are now, Tolver thought regretfully. They weren’t when I told you that. “They’re lost, Sam. The prospectors are all over the Depository now. We have to work with what we’ve got.” Tolver hated that he was starting to sound like Julius.

“But we’ve got to fight them! You need to go back to the island, Mason needs to go home, and I need to get my words back!” Sam said.

“Look at everyone down here,” Tolver said. “They’ve all been trying to work their way home, some for years. Fighting gets you sent to the brig like your friend. And no one wants to be there long. So we buy our way out, word by word. I’m sorry, Sam. Normally I’m a hopeful boglin, but I’m flat broke. No words left.”

Two goblins took seats next to them, setting down tin plates loaded with butter jerky. This time, Sam took a small piece. “Salty and takes a long time to chew,” he finally said. “So. Let’s solve this one thing at a time. How do we get Mason out of the brig?”

Tolver shook his head. “We could try to bribe the captain, if you have something he wants. Or you can wait until they let her out.”

“I’ll try anything.” Sam raised his eyebrows and whispered, “Maybe we can visit Mason and use the undoing spray to free her?”

“You’d get caught. Too many people watching.” But even as he said it, Tolver felt a small hope bloom in his chest. His nana had sent him a spell. Well, she’d given it to Sam, but that was almost the same. His despair vanished. Quickly, Tolver sprayed a corner of his sleeve with the glittering liquid. “Just in case.”

When Sam tucked the spray bottle away, Tolver chewed more enthusiastically on his strip of butter jerky and scratched at his cheek. “Did you get Starflake back across?”

Sam nodded and sniffed at another piece of jerky before wrinkling his nose and putting it down.

“That’s a relief. Listen, Sam, I know they’re planning a raid. Julius can’t stop talking about it. Once they’ve done it, they’ll have to go to the Depository to weigh their words. It will be too much to process on the ship. Then we can—” Tolver stopped whispering right as the first mate appeared beside them.

“Do continue,” the first mate said. “I am also very interested in hearing what you plan to do next. The captain will be too.”

The Declension’s first mate dragged Tolver and Sam to the captain’s quarters and pushed them through the door without knocking. Unlike the rest of the ship, Captain Bellfont’s berth was bright and fresh smelling. The wide glass windows behind his desk, where the captain sat glaring at Sam and Tolver, probably had something to do with the lack of stink.

But in her rush to present her prisoners, the first mate had burst through the door and caught the captain in the process of trying on business clothes that one of the merchants had traded him.

He’d taken off his sea jacket and replaced it with a leather prospector vest, but the tie—a bow decorated with stars— looked ridiculously out of place. A price tag for Macy’s was still attached. Stolen.

The captain caught Tolver staring and pulled off the tie. “Watch it, kiddo. Or you’ll be in the brig too.”

Tolver’s and Sam’s seats, oak-barrel chairs old enough to have the names of another ship carved into their backs, creaked as The Declension wove its way through the sky. The captain’s dark green leather vest made his skin look even more yellow. It was clean, though, and that was a big contrast to how dirty and wind-sprayed Tolver and Sam were. Sam was also mud-splashed, probably from his latest landing at the cottage. Tolver’s clothes were creaky with salt. They both needed showers badly.

A swim in the water far below the ship was less than appealing, however, and that’s what Tolver saw in their future, if they avoided the brig. How much had the first mate heard?

“These two were planning something,” the first mate said. “Go ahead, tell them.”

Think fast. What would Nana do? Tolver bet she’d just use the undoing spray, but Tolver knew the best way to get to the Depository was to try to make themselves useful to the prospectors. Julius had said that what the prospectors wanted most was more hot air. As much of it as possible. And Sam had said he’d do anything.

Tolver looked at Sam and then thought about his walks around Mount Cloud with Nana. There’d been a train station that went to the city, and they’d watched Sam’s dad get on the train to go to work, carrying a tote bag. Sam was carrying that bag now. It said New City Design and Public Relations. The kind of business, Tolver thought, that probably used a lot of words.

“I’ve been thinking of ways to help the prospectors find more fuel, sir,” Tolver began. “Better words. Lots of them. That’s what we were talking about.”

The first mate didn’t disagree. Maybe she hadn’t overheard much at all.

The captain smiled in a way that let Tolver and Sam see all his goblin teeth. It wasn’t pretty. He pinched his mustache between his fingers. “Wonderful. But we already have Julius to create new inventions for getting words. We’re establishing long-term supply lines. Why do we need a boglin word-gatherer and a young human?”

Tolver thought about all the bad things Nana had told him about the prospectors. “Don’t you need new territories? What if we could help you find some?”

Sam looked confused.

Come on, Sam, work with me, Tolver thought. “Sam, you know places where people work with words all day, right?”

Sam frowned. “If I did, would you let us see Mason? And then take us to the Depository?”

The Declension began a slow turn in the air, and they heard the goblin crew calling out commands. Suddenly every sound the ship made, each clank and groan, seemed like a clock counting the captain’s silence.

Finally, the captain sighed, frustrated. “We don’t need territories. We need humans who waste words regularly, on a grand scale. The Plumbline—the ship I was on before I earned The Declension— mined several powerfully mis-used words from one of your weathermen last year. My cut was enough to buy this ship. What can you do for me that is as good?”

Tolver held his breath. Would Sam help? Did he understand what the captain was asking? Tolver stared hard at Sam’s tote bag.

Sam’s mouth made an O shape. “My dad’s business works with a lot of words.”

Tolver couldn’t help smiling as Captain Bellfont leaned forward over the desk, his mustache dragging on its polished surface. “How wonderful. Does your father work with actors? Politicians?” The captain’s teeth smelled bad, and his breath worse. Tolver held his breath.

Sam shook his head and spoke fast, like he was trying not to breathe either. “Nothing like that. He works in a PR and design firm.”

The minute the words were out of Sam’s mouth, the captain’s eyes glowed. Jackpot.

Captain Bellfont jumped up from behind the desk. He came around to sit on the armrest of Sam’s chair and patted Sam on the head. “Sam, you are a treasure.”

Sam took a shallow breath. “But I won’t tell you any more until you let Mason out of the brig.”

The captain smiled even more. “Fair enough.” He gestured to his first mate, who opened a side door and led Mason into the room. She smelled worse than belowdecks and looked madder than anything Tolver had ever seen—goblin or human. “But she goes right back unless you give us more. We will trade your friend’s freedom for access to this resource.”

“Wait a minute.” Mason glared at the captain. He stared back, shocked. “You don’t get to trade my freedom. I refuse to give it to you.”

The goblins laughed. Tolver shivered right down to his toes, and Sam winced. Goblin laughter was unpleasant. “We’re businessgoblins, young lady,” the captain said. “The profitable kind. We don’t negotiate. Sam, are you ready to tell us your plan and save your friend?”

“He’s not my friend, he’s—” The first mate shook Mason until she was quiet.

The captain stood. “That’s not the matter at hand!”

But Sam turned to Mason. “I am your friend. But I was teasing too much. And I was mean. I won’t do it again.”

She nodded but still looked mad. “It wasn’t just teasing, Sam. But . . . maybe I was mean too.” Then she turned to Tolver. “And if you’re the one who stole Sam’s words, we are NOT friends.”

Tolver hung his head.

Captain Bellfont smacked his hand on the desk again. “Enough. We need words we can use. Young man, you made a deal. You tell us where your source is, and we’ll keep your friend Mason safe, plus take you to the Depository.” He rose and headed for the door and waved for his first mate.

Tolver shifted uncomfortably, growing increasingly worried. The captain was speaking only to Sam, not him. Tolver leaned close to the humans and whispered, “Don’t say anything more, Sam! I don’t trust him.”

“But I promised Mason my help, and Tolver, you need it too,” Sam whispered back.

“But, Sam!” Mason protested.

“I don’t want you to go back to the brig,” Sam told her.

“I don’t want to go back either. They tried to feed me beef jerky with peanut butter!” she said, her eyebrows rising. “But still, Sam!”

“It’s okay,” Sam whispered. “I’m pretty sure even goblins could never get past my dad’s secretary. I’ll tell them where the agency is, and then we’ll go to the Depository and get my words back, okay?”

Julius and the first mate entered and the captain returned to his desk, glowering. “This had better be a really good resource,” he finally said. “Or else you’ll be working off all of my wasted time.”

Tolver watched as Sam tried not to squirm under the captain’s gaze. “I’ll show you where to go, you let us off at the Depository, and we’ll go our separate ways. The three of us.”

The three of them. Sam was bargaining for Tolver too. A human bargaining for a boglin. Nana, Tolver was sure, would be pleased. Meantime, the captain extended his hand, and Sam shook it.

“Deal,” the captain said, smiling in a not-so-nice way, his eyes glittering. “Although you may yet come around to our ways. Julius here certainly has. All right, Sam, Tolver. Get ready to go on a raid.”

“What? No! I’m just going to tell you where to go. That was the deal,” Sam protested.

The captain grinned. “Not at all. You said show. Words matter. You’ll stay with us until we’re sure we’ve got the resource.”

Sam sat down in the chair, hard. Beside him, Mason and Tolver slumped. A prospector raid. This was terrible. But then Tolver remembered that Nana had sometimes talked about how humans mis-used words so much as they got older that they threw piles of word-filled paper away. Maybe, Tolver thought, he and Sam could lead the crew of The Declension to the trash no one wanted anyway, and Tolver wouldn’t have broken the promise he’d just made to Sam. Tolver hoped so. “We’ll do it,” he said.

“We will?” Sam said.

“Trust me,” Tolver replied, hoping he was right.

And with that, the deal was struck. The first mate led them out on deck, where the captain placed a canvas map against the ship’s big wooden wheel.

The map showed the boundaries of the marshbogs. Swirls in the water marked four big portals—one at each compass point: north, south, east, and west. Tolver had seen maps like this before, but Nana never used any of the big portals.

Between the portals, four floating cities were marked on the map and the marshbog archipelago spread below them. It was beautiful. Tolver spotted Felicity and Serendipity, the city The Declension had called at before it overtook the mail boat.

“Our ship has use of this portal,” the captain pointed at the eastern swirl. “It reaches large mail rooms in many of your cities. We can generate our own portal if we’re willing to burn enough words and go through smaller boxes, but I’d rather not. We’re making so much progress—floating cities, ships, our inventions—that I need to optimize fuel as much as possible.”

The captain tapped the portal, then flipped the canvas over. On the back, inverted, Tolver saw the human city Midtown, and Sam pointed a shaking finger at the street where his father’s agency was.

“Well done, Sam,” the captain said. “You’re being very helpful. It’s a good start. Inventor!” The captain roared so loud, Tolver jumped.

“Sir!” Julius sprang to the captain’s side.

“Get the word hogs ready! The expedition will start immediately.”

“An expedition,” Tolver whispered. He did kind of want to see that. But he couldn’t imagine an entire ship fitting through a mailbox, no matter how much magic the prospectors had.

The whole ship reverberated with loud metallic noises. The word hogs were coming. Tolver really wanted to see those too.

“Hop to it, Sam,” the captain said. When Sam seemed confused, the captain pointed again, toward a large brass object being lifted from the hold. Julius hovered around the hatch protectively.

Mason grabbed Sam’s sleeve. “You don’t have to do this, Sam. Let Tolver do it.”

“Sam doesn’t have a choice in the matter,” Captain Bellfont said. “If he helps willingly, I suspect we’ll make less of a mess at his dad’s office. Don’t you think so, Julius? There’s a chance no one will know we’ve been there at all.”

Julius nodded. “We would try to be very careful.”

Somehow, Tolver doubted that. The word hogs were enormous.

“You’ll never be able to get in the building, though,” Sam said triumphantly. “Your ship is too big.”

“Oh, no. Ships rarely go over; they run out of fuel too fast, and it’s impossible to make more fuel in the old world. We have alternatives.” Julius rubbed his hands together. “To the hogs, please. Both of you.”

The first of the word hogs came fully up on deck as he said it. It was raised by a hoist, six goblins working the ropes, backs tensing with each pull.

When the first hog rested on deck, Mason and Tolver went with Sam to look closer. Their faces were reflected in the polished surface. The word hog looked like a giant version of the piglet the captain had sold at the last port of call.

Except this one had gates in both sides that lowered and turned into ramps. And on the inside, there were wooden seats, lots of blinking lights, and control nobs and switches. The word hog’s eyes were headlights. Its snout was a round grate. And it gleamed like Julius’s brass medallion in the setting sun.