‘We’re not stealing it,’ he said at last. ‘We’re just borrowing it.’
‘It starts with all of us like that,’ Lex said, grinning.
It was not long before they were both completely disoriented because of the cursed mirrors that were everywhere. Eventually the crone stopped and pushed open a mirrored door and they stepped into a cream-coloured room, made entirely of ivory. They must have ended up at the top of the ship for panoramic windows ran all the way round the circular room, showing the view of the sea stretching out before them to one side, the sprawling docks to the other.
The walls, the floor and the window seat running around the panoramic windows were all made from the same polished ivory. The large floor was bare but for an ivory basin stood on a pedestal in the centre of the room. When Lex walked over to it he saw that it held salt water.
‘The master’s key goes in there,’ Bessa crowed. ‘His magic bone is the key for the Bone Room that makes the ship fly. It is a magic bone, shaped like a fish. He took it with him. You cannot work the ship without it,’ she finished triumphantly.
‘Magic bone,’ Lex muttered, fingering the Wishing Swanns through their pouch in his pocket and taking in the ivory room.
He turned with a smile to the crone. ‘Tell me, Bessa, does it have to be a particular magic bone or will any one do?’
The crone stared at him suspiciously. ‘You have no magic bone, horrible boy. Only great enchanters have them, horrible liar!’
Lex laughed softly as he drew the velvet pouch out of his pocket and tipped the three beautiful Swanns out onto the palm of his hand. There was the black obelisk one and the one carved from deep red bloodstone. But it was the pale cream Swann made from ivory that he selected. He glanced at the trembling crone. ‘As luck would have it,’ he said with a grin, ‘I happen to have a little magic bone of my own right here.’
He ignored the crone’s little screech of alarm…
… and dropped the ivory Swann into the basin.
Dockhands and sailors ducked for cover as great wooden shards splintered in all directions. A great chunk of the harbour was ripped away by one of the enchanted boats suddenly soaring out over the sea, easily tearing free of the ropes that anchored it and taking half the harbour with it.
Wooden splinters crashed through the shut-up stalls of the midnight market and embedded themselves in the hulls of the other boats anchored in the harbour. Lex, Schmidt and Bessa were all thrown to the ivory floor with the vicious suddenness of the movement, water sloshing over from the basin in the centre and Bessa’s one remaining cane skittering across the well-polished floor.
Lex recovered first, pulling himself up by one of the window seats and staring back at the chaotic harbour as the ship flew ever further away, not even touching the waves beneath them. He took in the damage that had been done by virtue of the great ship’s strength and laughed delightedly. ‘I hope we didn’t impale anybody back there.’
Schmidt staggered to his feet and joined Lex at the window, gasping in horror at the damage that had been done.
‘My God, Lex, don’t you care anything for the safety of other people?’
Lex waved a hand dismissively. ‘I’m sure no one was hurt,’ he said, stepping over the sprawled crone to the basin and looking in at the Swann resting on the bottom.
After that sudden shock of movement the boat seemed remarkably calm considering the speed at which it was travelling. There was no rocking on the waves as there had been on the gypsy ship for this magical boat was hardly sailing at all; it was flying over the restless ocean, not even touching the water.
‘How do you get it to stop?’ Lex asked the crone.
But even as he spoke the words, the ship slowed rapidly until it had come to a complete halt, hovering over the waves, the harbour now some way behind them.
‘Aha,’ Lex said with a slow grin.
‘It reads the mind of the key holder,’ Bessa said miserably.
‘What are you stopping for anyway? I thought you were all eager to be away?’ Schmidt asked.
‘Yes, but we don’t want any unwanted passengers, Monty,’ Lex said, smiling horribly at the old crone.
Half an hour later, Bessa was sat hunched up in her basket, which was floating on the surface of the ocean next to the great ship. They’d lowered her down over the side with ropes, having been forced to use the basket in the absence of any lifeboats.
‘It seems to be floating well enough. What did I tell you?’ Lex said to the lawyer.
Schmidt gazed back at him coldly. The old crone was still screaming for her bloody cat, which seemed to have disappeared into the ship somewhere.
‘She’ll be able to row back to shore all right with that, she’s got an oar. And she has her cane. What more does she need?’
‘You’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met,’ Schmidt said coldly. ‘You really don’t care about anyone at all, do you? She will be punished by her enchanter.’
‘She’ll be in more trouble if she stays with us. And, like you said, we are only borrowing the boat.’
‘Yes,’ Schmidt replied with a horrible smile. ‘So I know you won’t mind leaving her with a deposit. As you fully intend to bring the ship back.’
‘Deposit? What dep-?’
Lex broke off in pure horror as the lawyer suddenly grabbed his bag which had been lying on the deck and threw it overboard where it landed with a splash next to the crone, who promptly pulled it into her basket, crowing with glee at the valuable nature of the things inside.
‘How dare you!’ Lex hissed, rounding angrily on the lawyer. ‘How dare you! Do you know how long it took me to collect all those beautiful things? Do you know how hard I had to work to get them?’
‘It hurts, doesn’t it, Lex? Losing things that are important to you? Good, I’m glad you’re upset.’
Discipline, Lex told himself. He’s baiting you. Don’t rise to it
… Don’t rise to it… After all, he still had his money belt — not that Schmidt needed to know anything about that…
‘I’m not upset, Mr Schmidt,’ Lex said with exaggerated politeness. ‘Just a little concerned about how we’re going to finance our journey now that you’ve given away all my valuables. After all, I have no money now and there will be travelling expenses and food expenses and things… but that’s okay because you still have your wallet, don’t you? I must say it’s very sportsmanlike of you to agree to pay for all this out of your own pocket, Mr Schimdt,’ Lex gloated, noting with relish the distinctly unhappy expression that was now on his employer’s face.
‘Didn’t think it through, did you?’ Lex asked, with sudden coldness. ‘It takes practice, you know, swindling people. You really shouldn’t try it unless you’re absolutely sure it won’t backfire on you.’
He glanced over the edge of the ship. ‘You know, Monty, I have the sneaking suspicion that you might have overpaid her.’
The old crone was paddling for the shore as fast as her oar would take her, one arm still crooked around Lex’s bag.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Mahara was a dead Goddess. She had died, they said, for love. For the love of a mortal man. She had given up her immortality for him. And now her abandoned sun was cold and useless, its light shedding no warmth so that it was unable to prevent the ice storms from sweeping in, blowing snow across the land and freezing the ocean solid. It was a problem for the gypsies and the fishermen, for their boats would become stuck on the frozen sea. But, to an enchanted boat, Mahara’s sun was no obstacle. The ship flew over the solidifying ocean and sliced through the gales, the shards of ice shattering harmlessly against the steel prow where they would have punched straight through a wooden gypsy boat.
Lex and Schmidt had taken to using lengths of rope to guide themselves round the mirrored boat. They feared that, without something to guide them back to the bridge, they might become permanently lost within the vast, winding, reflecting corridors. Schmidt had warned Lex not to go poking around. The bridge seemed harmless enough, as had Bessa’s little cabin, but who knew what might be lurking elsewhere within the ship?