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“I think,” said Amos, who after all thought quickly and was quick to tell what he thought, “that everything is not quite right in there.”

“Be quiet and help me,” said the thin grey man, “or I shall put you in the trunk with my nearest and dearest.”

For a moment Amos was just a little afraid. TWO

Then they were on a ship, and all the boards were grey from having gone so long without paint. The grey man took Amos into his cabin, and they sat down on opposite sides of a table.

“Now,” said the grey man, “here is a map.”

“Where did you get it?” asked Amos.

“I stole it from my worse and worst enemy.”

“What is it a map of?” Amos asked. He knew you should ask as many questions as possible when there were so many things you didn’t know.

“It is a map of many places and many treasures, and I need someone to help me find them.”

“Are these treasures the pearls and gold and diamonds and emeralds you told me about?”

“Nonsense,” said the grey man. “I have more emeralds and diamonds and gold and pearls than I know what to do with,” and he opened a closet door.

Amos stood blinking as jewels by the thousands fell out on the floor, glittering and gleaming, red, green, and yellow.

“Help me push them back in the closet,” said the grey man. “They’re so bright that if I look at them too long, I get a headache.”

So they pushed the jewels back and leaned against the closet door till it closed.

Then they returned to the map.

“Then what are the treasures?” Amos asked, full of curiosity.

“The treasure is happiness, for me and my nearest and dearest friend.”

“How do you intend to find it?”

“In a mirror,” said the grey man. “In three mirrors, or rather, one mirror broken in three pieces.”

“A broken mirror is bad luck,” said Amos. “Who broke it?”

“A wizard so great and so old and so terrible that you and I need never worry about him.”

“Does this map tell where the pieces are hidden?”

“Exactly,” said the grey man. “Look, we are here.”

“How can you tell?”

“The map says so,” said the grey man. And sure enough, in large letters one corner of the map was marked HERE.

“Perhaps somewhere nearer than you think, up this one, and two leagues short of over there, the pieces are hidden.”

“Your greatest happiness will be to look into this mirror?”

“It will be the greatest happiness of myself and of my nearest and dearest friend.”

“Very well,” said Amos. “When do we start?”

“When the dawn is foggy and the sun is hidden and the air is grey as grey can be.”

“Very well,” said Amos a second time. “Until then, I shall walk around and explore your ship.”

“It will be tomorrow at four o’clock in the morning,” said the grey man. “So don’t stay up too late.”

“Very well,” said Amos a third time.

As Amos was about to leave, the grey man picked up a ruby that had fallen from the closet and not been put back. On the side of the trunk that now sat in the corner was a small triangular door that Amos had not seen. The grey man pulled it open, tossed in the ruby, and slammed it quickly: Orghmflbfe. THREE

Outside, the clouds hung so low the top of the ship’s tallest mast threatened to prick one open. The wind tossed about in Amos’s red hair and scurried in and out of his rags. Sitting on the railing of the ship, a sailor was splicing a rope.

“Good evening,” said Amos. “I’m exploring the ship, and I have very little time. I have to be up at four o’clock in the morning. So can you tell me what I must be sure to avoid because it would be so silly and uninteresting that I would learn nothing from it?”

The sailor frowned awhile, then said, “There is nothing at all interesting in the ship’s brig.”

“Thank you very much,” said Amos, and walked on till he came to another sailor, whose feet were awash in soapsuds. The sailor was pushing a mop back and forth so hard that Amos decided he was trying to scrub the last bit of color off the grey boards. “Good evening to you too,” said Amos. “I’m exploring the ship, and I have very little time since I’m to be up at four o’clock in the morning. I was told to avoid the brig. So could you point it out to me? I don’t want to wander into it by accident.”

The sailor leaned his chin on his mop handle awhile, then said, “If you want to avoid it, don’t go down the second hatchway behind the wheelhouse.”

“Thank you very much,” said Amos, and hurried off to the wheelhouse. When he found the second hatchway, he went down very quickly and was just about to go to the barred cell when he saw the grimy sailor with the iron key—who must be the jailer as well, thought Amos.

“Good evening,” Amos said. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, and how is yourself, and what are you doing down here?”

“I’m standing here, trying to be friendly,” said Amos. “I was told there was nothing of interest down here. And since it is so dull, I thought I would keep you company.”

The sailor fingered his key awhile, then said, “That is kind of you, I suppose.”

“Yes, it is,” said Amos. “What do they keep here that is so uninteresting everyone tells me to avoid it?”

“This is the ship’s brig, and we keep prisoners here. What else should we keep?”

“That’s a good question,” said Amos. “What do you keep?”

The jailer fingered his key again, then said, “Nothing of interest at all.”

Just then, behind the bars, Amos saw the pile of grubby grey blankets move. A corner fell away, and he saw just the edge of something as red as his own bright hair.

“I suppose, then,” said Amos, “I’ve done well to avoid coming here.” And he turned around and left. But that night, as the rain poured over the deck and the drum-drum-drumming of heavy drops lulled everyone on the ship to sleep, Amos hurried over the slippery boards under the dripping eaves of the wheelhouse to the second hatchway, and went down. The lamps were low, the jailer was huddled asleep in a corner on a piece of grey canvas, but Amos went immediately to the bars and looked through.

More blankets had fallen away, and besides a red as bright as his own hair, he could see a green the color of parrot’s feathers, a yellow as pale as Chinese mustard, and a blue as brilliant as the sky at eight o’clock in July. Have you ever watched someone asleep under a pile of blankets? You can see the blankets move up and down, up and down with breathing. That’s how Amos knew this was a person. “Pssst,” he said. “You colorful but uninteresting person, wake up and talk to me.”

Then all the blankets fell away, and a man with more colors on him than Amos had ever seen sat up rubbing his eyes. His sleeves were green silk with blue and purple trimming. His cape was crimson with orange design. His shirt was gold with rainbow checks, and one boot was white and the other was black.

“Who are you?” asked the parti-colored prisoner.

“I am Amos, and I am here to see what makes you so uninteresting that everyone tells me to avoid you and covers you up with blankets.”

“I am Jack, the Prince of the Far Rainbow, and I am a prisoner here.”

“Neither one of those facts is so incredible compared to some of the strange things in this world,” said Amos. “Why are you the Prince of the Far Rainbow, and why are you a prisoner?”

“Ah,” said Jack, “the second question is easy to answer, but the first is not so simple. I am a prisoner here because a skinny grey man stole a map from me and put me in the brig so I could not get it back from him. But why am I the Prince of the Far Rainbow? That is exactly the question asked me a year ago today by a wizard so great and so old and so terrible that you and I need never worry about him. I answered him, ‘I am Prince because my father is King, and everyone knows I should be.’ Then the wizard asked me, ‘Why should you be Prince and not one of a dozen others? Are you fit to rule, can you judge fairly, can you resist temptation?’ I had no idea what he meant, and again I answered, ‘I am Prince because my father is King.’ The wizard took a mirror and held it before me. ‘What do you see?’ he asked. ‘I see myself, just as I should, the Prince of the Far Rainbow,’ said I. Then the wizard grew furious and struck the mirror into three pieces and cried, ‘Not until you look into this mirror whole again will you be Prince of the Far Rainbow, for a woman worthy of a prince is trapped behind the glass, and not till she is free can you rule in your own land.’ There was an explosion, and when I woke up, I was without my crown, lying dressed as you see me now in a green meadow. In my pocket was a map that told me where all the pieces were hidden. Only it did not show me how to get back to the Far Rainbow. And still I do not know how to get home.”