Part Three

Chapter Sixteen

Tolver

Tolver woke, groggy, still holding on to the wheel of The Declension. The ship wasn’t moving. Everything looked so green. What had happened?

He shook himself and his eyes cleared. But everything still looked green.

He remembered now. They’d fled Felicity, and at first, he hadn’t been sure if he was steering The Declension or if the ship was steering him.

The ship had rolled in the air, and each new gust of wind pushed it farther from where Tolver wanted to go, which was back to Felicity to get Sam.

He’d heard Captain Bellfont shouting at the boy, but Tolver could barely steer, much less manage all the air funnels and gadgets. Ropes swung loose from the bow of the boat and trailed in the ship’s wake.

And Mason, who’d leapt aboard at the last minute, had pulled herself upright. “You have to go back! They grabbed Sam!”

“I’m trying!” Tolver shouted. “This is too much for one goblin!” He pointed Mason to where the ship’s wings were tightly tucked against the bow. “Try to unfurl those. We’ll have more control and can come about!”

Mason tugged against the pulleys, but they wouldn’t budge. Then she looked back over Tolver’s shoulder. “They’re coming!”

Tolver checked. The Plumbline had also cast off from the city. Its baffles pumped and the ship wove across the sky, coming for The Declension. What could he do? Tolver had watched ships sail the clouds so often, he felt like he should know. But with the wheel in his hands, he knew watching was different than doing. He still had to try.

“Open that, fast!” Tolver pointed at the ship’s fuel dispenser. Mason scrambled for it, and she yanked on its catches. The baffles and fans began to groan loudly.

As the boat picked up speed, Tolver found it grew easier to steer. He loosened his grip on the wheel, just enough to shake some feeling back into his fingers.

“Look! Down on the marsh!” Mason leaned out over the bow and pointed at the water. She came astern to hold the wheel while Tolver looked.

Among the small islands of the marshbogs, a mail boat headed their way. “Nana!” he said. “Turn the ship! Turn the wheel!”

Mason did as he asked, and Tolver lowered a basket to Nana, who caught it. Then Tolver hauled on the rope until he got Nana and a smallish black pookah to the side of the ship and then aboard.

He was drenched from the effort, but when he saw Nana’s face, he yelled with relief. She dropped the pookah on deck and wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, I’m so glad to see you again!”

But the relief was short-lived.

“Tolver!” Mason shouted and pointed astern. Tolver could see the bowsprit of The Plumbline aimed at them like a wasp’s stinger. “They’re still chasing us!”

Nana took charge of the bow wings and the baffles. “I remember a thing or two about sailing.” She grinned. “And I’m not about to let the prospectors get the best of us.”

With three sets of hands onboard, the ship steadied. They carried less weight than the other ship, and as they crossed the marshbogs, The Declension slowly expanded its lead.

The black pookah slowly grew until a full-size Gilfillan roamed the deck of the ship. “We need to get you home,” Nana said to Mason. “The closest portal is just a few leagues away. We’ll get close and send you through with Gilfillan. We don’t want to take a whole ship through. That would cause too much disruption.”

Mason bit her lip. Then she shook her head. “I don’t want to go without Sam.”

Tolver checked the wind and looked back at the other ship. “They’re getting their word hogs ready to launch—we won’t be able to get close enough to rescue him. We have to send you home first.”

Nana put her arm around Mason’s shoulders. “It’s the wisest course,” she said. “We’ll help get Sam back too. I promise.”

As they approached the whirling sea below the portal, Nana began to ready Gilfillan, and Tolver tried to tell Mason what to expect. “It’s going to feel pretty weird,” he started to explain, before he heard The Plumbline’s cannons.

A net of spells sailed toward them and fell just short of the boat. The Plumbline had put on a sudden burst of speed. In moments, it was close enough to fire more spells.

Nana turned the ship’s fuel lines all the way up.

“We all have to go,” Tolver said. “We have to take The Declension through the portal or they’ll catch us all.”

“Tolver, taking a ship like this through is dangerous,” Nana cautioned.

“But those prospectors are more dangerous!” He pointed back at The Plumbline. He wrapped his fingers around the wheel and began to turn the ship toward the portal. “I choose the lesser danger.”

The wheel and then the ship groaned.

Mason ran to Tolver’s side and helped the boglin steer. The Declension shuddered loudly as it closed in on the portal. Amid the whirl of wind and sea, Tolver listened as Nana pulled a word from her bag and held it, along with the magnifying lens, up to the sun. “Revolve!” she shouted.

The portal opened, and Tolver saw the rooftops of Mount Cloud on the other side of the turbulent vortex. The ship shook, and Gilfillan grunted. Then everything began to shrink and shiver. Tolver watched as Mason turned as green as the rest of them.

As they began to pass through, The Plumbline drew close astern again. The two goblin captains shouted furiously at their crews. They fired another spell but missed. Then the portal took hold of The Declension, just as Nana turned them all invisible.

Tolver felt the ship all around them, but he couldn’t see anything. With the turbulence in the portal, he felt dizzier than he ever had. His skin itched. Beside him, he heard Mason groan. “This is awful.”

“We’re going to make it, though,” Nana shouted as the ship shot out the other side of the portal and right into Mount Cloud on a bright, green day.

And then The Declension came to a sudden, lurching, crunching stop. The last thing Tolver heard was a bird screeching, outraged.

Now he realized that the day was green because they were completely surrounded by leaves. The ship’s airbag was tangled high above them, slowly and loudly leaking hot air.

They’d landed in a tree. A big one.

Nana picked twigs out of her hair. Mason pulled a glowing machine from her pocket. All around them, the light was growing dimmer. As Tolver watched, worried, the airbag deflated and draped itself over the ship, trapping everyone inside.

“I’m glad to be home, but can’t be stuck here—” Mason pulled herself upright and pressed blearily on the airbag. “We’re so close to the field. I’m going to miss the first game!” The girl shook her head, then turned to the boglins. “But . . . We made it though! Thank you for that!” The green-shrouded deck of the boat glowed as Mason began pushing buttons on her machine. “Only a little battery left. Enough to text my parents. I can let them know I’m okay.”

Tolver winced at Mason’s idea of “okay.” “We can’t be trapped here. Didn’t you see? The Plumbline came through just after we did— its hull went right over the tree line. Wherever they land is going to be filled with prospectors. We have to get out of here and send those prospectors back where they came from.”

Together, the three of them pulled and pushed at the hissing airbag.

Gilfillan even tried to chew at the fabric, but the canvas envelope held fast.

“You don’t happen to have any more silverfish, do you, Nan?” Tolver said.

“Not that we can use without also setting them lose on ourselves! We’re stuck here.” She looked at her grandson sternly. “Magic doesn’t solve every problem, you know. Sometimes it even makes things worse.”

Tolver looked at his bare feet, then up into the leaves of the tree that held them fast. “I know. I’m sorry, Nan.”

“And with us stuck here, this is as good a time as any to give you a piece of my mind. Accepting prospector technology. What were you thinking?”

Tolver ducked his head. “I wanted to give you your island. To do it fast enough that I’d have time to have adventures too.”

“And to go against everything I’ve taught you?” Nana chewed her lip, visibly upset. Mason looked away from them, focusing intently on her phone. The device went dark, out of charge. She shook it once, then put it away.

“I’m so sorry, Nana,” Tolver said. “I thought I could handle it.”

“And I thought I was doing the right thing by protecting you,” Nana finally said. Her eyes softened, and her wrinkles seemed more pronounced. “I was wrong about so much. Julius, for one.” She put her arm around Tolver. “We’ll find our way out of here. Hopefully. Together.”

There was a loud sniffle from Mason at that. “Goblin thieves. Being nice to each other.” She wiped her eyes.

Nana laughed. “We’re always nice!” But then her smile dimmed. “When it was just gathering a word here and there, I didn’t realize the damage it caused. But stealing everyone’s words? We have to stop the prospectors and send them home.”

But then how will we save our island? Tolver thought. “Sending them all home through the library will take a lot of pookahs,” he finally said, looking doubtfully at Gilfillan.

The black pig snorted at him, as if to say, “Totally doable.”

Nana coughed. “We have to find them first. Then catch them. Once we find a way to do that, since we’ve got several pookahs on this side already, we can shuttle them back, I think. But first, we have to get out of here.”

“Maybe we can loosen a line and sneak out. Or maybe . . .” Tolver tried prying at ropes again. But none of it worked.

As the morning grew a little warmer, the shrink-wrapped goblin prospector ship began to heat up. Tolver paced to keep awake.

“What are we going to do?” Mason said. “We have to get out of here.”

A branch cracked below them. “We might be getting out—and by that, I mean down the hard way—sooner than we think,” Tolver whimpered.