Though Captain Catapillow and First Mate Concort were both there, once again it was Sunscorch who really took charge.
‘I’m guessing you’ll want us to beach her dead ahead on Counter-Crab Beach, Captain?’ Sunscorch asked, quite calmly. He pointed at Forlorn Island, which was only a mile or so away. ‘I’ve been here before, more than once. Good deep sand, quite steep. Once we’re aground we can warp her about and careen her.’
‘Um, yes, very good, carry on, Mister Sunscorch,’ said Catapillow. ‘I’m just going to . . . ah . . . see to the situation belowdecks. Counter-Crab Beach, eh? Excellent. Excellent. Mister Concort, I believe we may leave the ship to Mister Sunscorch.’
‘Pardon?’ asked Concort. The back of his coat was peppered with many holes, some of them stained with his own blue blood. ‘Aye, aye, sir.’
They both left the quarterdeck, trooping down past Arthur and Ichabod. Neither looked at the boy and they seemed in a hurry to get back to the Captain’s cabin. Catapillow was muttering something about humidity, gum Arabic, and perforated edges.
‘Exciting times,’ said Ichabod. ‘We don’t normally have these sorts of goings-on going on. Not for a hundred years or more, we haven’t. Come on.’
‘Can’t we stay on deck?’ asked Arthur as they walked away. He was still feeling very shaky after the shock of the cannon blast and, as he had expected, was already having a little trouble breathing now they had left the House. He also had little inclination to see the ‘really seriously wounded’ and had a strong inclination to stay out in the open air. If he went below he thought he might throw up from reaction to shock. He needed fresh air and distraction.
‘I suppose we might,’ said Ichabod. ‘The Captain and Mister Concort will be checking over the collection. They won’t notice anything else. And Doctor Scamandros will call if he needs me. We shall ask permission to join Mister Sunscorch on the quarterdeck.’
Ichabod called up, and after a moment Sunscorch nodded and waved them both up. The original two helmsmen had gone below to have their wounds treated, accompanied by Doctor Scamandros. They had been replaced by two of the Denizens who had brought Arthur in from the buoy.
‘A fine bit of sailing and no mistake,’ said Sunscorch as Arthur rejoined him. The Denizen seemed very cheerful. ‘There’s not many as can say they showed the Shiver a clean pair of heels.’
‘But aren’t we sinking?’ asked Arthur.
‘We’re taking water, that’s certain,’ said Sunscorch. ‘But we’ll be on the beach afore she drowns. And just as well, for there’s at least a week’s worth of repairs to be done.’
‘A week!’ Arthur protested. He coughed as he spoke, sudden anxiety making his chest tight. A week out in this Secondary Realm might mean a week lost in his own world. He still didn’t understand how time worked between the House and the Secondary Realms, but it couldn’t be good to be out here for so long. What if he lost a week at home? His parents would freak out. So would Leaf’s. Plus, he didn’t have any asthma medication, so he might not even survive a week. What if his broken leg got worse?
‘I can’t spend a week on some deserted island!’
‘You’ll have to, ’less you’re a better swimmer than you look,’ replied Sunscorch. ‘There’s precious little on this world. Lots of islands, some things you might call fish and fowl, and a bit of useful timber, that’s all. A safe haven from both Feverfew’s pirates and any nosy parkers from the House.’
‘Nosy parkers?’
‘Officials. Inspectors. Quaestors. Auditors. You know.’
‘Officials? Why would we be hiding from them?’ asked Arthur. Not that he wanted to meet any himself. Too many of them served the Trustees who were his enemies.
‘We’re in the Secondary Realms without a licence,’ explained Ichabod. ‘It’s the Original Law, and there’s fierce penalties to be here without permission. Not that there’s much chance of trouble, not since Lady Wednesday’s mind went adrift and she ate up half her officials and drowned —’ ‘Avast that!’ interrupted Sunscorch. ‘We are still in Her Ladyship’s service!’
‘True! True! Mister Sunscorch, I beg your pardon.’
‘In any case, we have good reason to be here, which might prove sufficient excuse,’ said Sunscorch, after a moment. Though he spoke to Arthur, his gaze continued to roam over the masts and rigging, the ship and the crew. ‘As soon as we’re able, we’ll be back to the Border Sea and our business of salvage. Now we must shorten sail. We’re riding deep and the sand is soft, but we’ve still too much way on.’