Royal Explorers of Oz_2 (1)

7/31/2019 Royal Explorers of Oz_2 (1)

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CHAPTER ONE: OF THINGS UNEXPECTED

The Crescent Moon sailed through the velvet night under a blanket

of starry skies. From Tragos Port off the southwestern coast of Boboland,

the ship and its crew moved on a smooth, westerly course while the

ship’s one passenger slept, oblivious. Prince Bobo was blissfully unaware

that his sister, Bebe, had secretly plotted with Captain Salt to keep her

fretful brother seaborne for a little while longer. At the moment, things

were of a very delicate nature back in the kingdom of Boboland, and

Bebe was trying her best to resolve matters as quickly as possible. If all

went as planned, Princess Bebe would finally establish a peace treaty of

sorts with the fearsome Growleywogs that dominated the northern

waste next to Boboland. Though Bebe loved her brother dearly, she

fostered no illusions about his prickly personality and his sour ways. No,

diplomacy was not Prince Bobo’s forte and his lack of social skills, both

political and personal, would only be a hindrance to his sister. Better for

her, and for their kingdom entire, if the Prince sailed onwards heedless

of what was transpiring back at court.

Waves lapped lazily against the ship’s hull as it plowed ever

onward. A few stray clouds still lingered in the sky from the previousweek’s storm, and the winds, as gentle as a lover’s touch, only teased

playfully at the ship’s sails, never quite filling them. The good captain,

finally tiring of nature’s fickle ways, set the Moon on magical auto-pilot

and allowed himself to catch some much needed sleep.

Thus, it happened that Roger the Read Bird, napping in the crow’s

nest, was the first to be awakened by an unusual whirring sound,

followed by a gasp, a thump, and the sound of sharp claws scraping

against the wooden deck. “Oh! Thank goodness!” uttered a soft voice

below, which was followed by another squawky voice that said, “Ain’t

that the truth!”

It took the Read Bird another moment to fully snap awake, but

once he did, he reached out a wing and managed to grasp the cord of a



bell that hung above the crow’s nest. Ringing it with all his might, Roger

shouted at the top of his lungs. “We’ve been boarded! Intruder alert!

We’ve been boarded! Intruders! Interlopers! Man your stations!”

Nikobo, who was spending the night with Arko and Orpa in the

tank on deck, yawned tremendously and blinked her eyes open. “What’s

all the ruckus?” she demanded sleepily.

Stumbling up the steps from the cabins below deck, Tandy and

Ato rubbed their eyes and looked around, searching out the cause of the

alarm. Captain Salt stormed out of his own cabin on the upper deck,

swiftly joining them. Ato brandished a wrought-iron frying pan, while

Captain Salt madly waved his pistol about. Tandy, ever mindful of his

friends’ safety, stood in front of them both with just his bare fists, ready

to defend. Behind them, Sally emerged from the cabin where she had

been sleeping, followed by the loud snores of Bobo, who was still

unconscious to the world.

Captain Salt, knowing full well his station and duty, stepped

protectively in front of Tandy, and confronted the new arrivals. Though

the Captain looked a bit comical at first glance, clad only in his bright

red undershirt, polka-dot shorts, and the hastily grabbed great-coat hehad thrown over his shoulders, his demeanor soon sobered any doubts

with his bristly beard, wild eyes, and deadly revolver.

Arko and Orpa, in all the commotion, had pulled themselves up

over the rim of the tank, and Nikobo had stuck her rather large head

between the two mer-folk. In the light of the above deck lanterns, the

crew of the Crescent Moon could easily see just who it was that had

literally fallen from the sky.

“Why, it’s an ork!” Sally cried incredulously as she carefully

inserted herself between the men who were standing in front of her,

trying to get a closer look at the new arrivals. “And a girl!”

“Six bells, it is,” grumped Captain Salt, pulling a watch from the

pocket of his coat. He glared as menacingly as he could at the girl and



the giant bird. “Ye’d better have a good explanation fer settin’ foot upon

my ship at three o’clock in the mornin’!” Realizing that orks were

pleasant creatures, and seeing that the girl looked more bedraggled and

windswept than dangerous, the old pirate captain shoved his pistol into

his other coat pocket. Ato still absently gripped his frying pan, but he

and Tandy both relaxed once they realized that the girl and the ork

meant no harm.

The late night winds blew cold across the deck of the ship, causing

the uninvited passenger to shiver visibly. She wore a billowy red dress

that—if it had not been torn and soaked with rain—looked very much

like royal garb. Her long black hair was bedraggled and caught in

tangles. Dismounting the ork, she nearly fell to the floor.

Captain Salt quickly strode forward and took her hands in his. “Ye

look tired, miss,” he noted, changing his tone as he saw how exhausted

she was. He glanced at Sally and Tandy. “Go clear out that cabin next to

your’n,” he said to the sea fairy. “Be quick about it.” The captain and

crew had been using that specific cabin to store some of the

watermelons, obtained from their voyage to Pirate Island, so that they

would not have to go down to the hold to get them. Captain Salt felt thattheir new guest was the sort of person who required her own cabin.

“Might I ask yer name, miss?” he questioned, leading her to a

bench that was mounted against the foremast.

The other creature that had arrived with her was indeed an ork; a

strange, bird-like creature with four gangly legs, four drooping saucer-

shaped wings, and a comical aerofoil tail. It had no feathers, save for a

plumed tuft on the top of its head. His propeller tail spun weakly, as the

ork managed to stand on legs that were quite shaky. “May I have the

pleasure,” it said, nodding at the assemblage, “of introducing you all to

Princess Truella of Mo. I am Zipper, and we are on our way to Boboland.”

“If you would be so kind to drop us off there when you get close,

we’d be ever so grateful,” added Truella as she sat. She demurely folded



her hands in her lap as she waited, then appeared to remember

something. Quickly darting a hand into a fold of her gown, she extracted

a slim coronet and placed it on her head. With a smile, she nodded back

at everyone. “Oh, my!” she gasped, noticing for the first time the head

of a hippopotamus flanked by the upper bodies of two mer-folk as they

peered at her from their tank.

The Read Bird had dutifully returned to his post at the crow’s nest,

though he kept peering down at the ork in curiosity, glad that he did not

have to explain the ship’s course.

“Oh, my,” muttered Ato, fumbling with the frying pan that he was

trying to hid behind his back. He looked to Captain Salt, who likewise

was a bit distressed.

“Y’see, miss Truella, yer majesty,” began the captain, darting his

eyes from her to the ork and back, “we’ve gone past Boboland, and

have no intentions of turning back for it just right now.” Seeing her

disappointment, he raised his hands with a shrug of his shoulders and

went on. “We’ll be headin’ back that way once we’ve returned from

Tarara. An’ besides, Prince Bobo himself lies asleep below. ’Tis the truth,

it is!”“Sleeps like a brick,” muttered Nikobo under her breath.

Unfortunately, Nikobo’s whispers might as well be spoken aloud, as the

hippo’s voice was as big as her girth. She shook her head and blinked

her eyes. “His Majesty can sleep through anything.”

“And a good thing, too,” added Arko sleepily. The entire crew, with

the exception of Prince Bobo himself, was all aware of Princess Bebe’s

missive to Captain Salt, and her request to keep the prince away from

his homeland for a while. The merman and his mate discreetly slipped

back into the water of the tank, and soon Nikobo’s head disappeared

from the edge as well. It looked like it was up to Ato and Salt to explain

to the new arrivals that they would not be return to Boboland anytime

soon.



Not one second later, the head of the hippopotamus rose once

again and she peered off into the distance. “What’s that?” she

muttered, squinting her eyes to see in the early morning darkness.

“Hm?” Orpa rose next to the hippopotamus and tried to see where

she was looking. Nikobo gestured slightly with her head, flicking her

ears in irritation. “There, off in the distance. I thought I saw another

ship.”

Arko sleepily lifted his head over the ledge of the tank next to

Orpa and looked for himself. Being mer-folk, their vision was much

better underwater, and in the darkness it was especially difficult to

make anything out. “No, you’re right,” he said, quickly glancing

sidelong at Orpa and Nikobo. Returning his gaze to the swells, he

added, “There’s definitely a ship out there.”

A heavy mist floated over the water several yards out on the sea’s

surface, further obscuring anything in their line of vision. A shape

appeared to their eyes beyond the mist – three, maybe four masts, with

tattered, ashen sails barely hanging onto them. The shimmering,

phosphorescent outline of a ship appeared and disappeared below the

sails, bobbing in and out of the mist. Two red specks lingered in thedarkness as though looking out towards them intently then grew dim

and faded.

As the three of them watched, the ship disappeared entirely,

swallowed up by the mist. And with that, the gray fog began to fold

back in upon itself, and finally receded below the black horizon. The

hippo and the mer-folk continued watching quietly for several minutes

without seeing anything further. Finally, their sleepiness overtook them,

and one by one they sank down into the warm water of the tank once

more and drifted off to dreamland.

Truella was surprisingly accepting of the situation, and took heart

in knowing that Prince Bobo was indeed aboard, and that she could

meet with him in the morning. Zipper, the ork, had been charged with



flying her to meet with the prince. Her father, the Monarch of Mo, had

heard of Prince Bobo’s quest to establish diplomatic ties among the

coastal nations, and thought to capitalize on Truella’s wanderlust by

sending her to see him. Likely she would have to wait for him to return

from his quest, but at least she would have the fun of traveling and

seeing unusual sights.

“Yer welcome to join us on our trip to Ozamaland,” suggested

Captain Salt, an idea percolating in his head. “Looks like you could use a

rest, anyway.” He winked at Ato, and allowed Sally and Tandy to lead

Princess Truella below deck to the cabin that they had hastily cleared

out for her. They all said their good nights, and Zipper made himself a

nest within a huge pile of rope that he found to be quite comfortable.

Soon, only Captain Salt and Ato remained on deck, and Roger flew back

down to join them.

“It’s a good thing, I think. Providential, ye might even say” said

Captain Salt about Truella and Zipper’s arrival. “Couldn’t’a happened at

a better time.”

“How do you mean?” asked Ato. He yawned and rubbed at his

eyes, hoping to get back to bed soon. Of all the crew, Ato needed hissleep most. He would have to wake up before all of them to make

breakfast, and with the new arrivals came more dishes to prepare.

“Think about it, dunderhead!” snapped Roger irritably. He tapped

his head with his feather. “Bobo’s going to be real upset that he didn’t

get dropped off at his precious summer palace. He doesn’t seem to

think much of your kingly status, Ato, nor Tandy’s. But Princess Truella

came seeking him. She was on her way to establish diplomatic ties with

his country. She’s a representative of a major nation on Nonestica. She’s

sure to make him feel better about being here. Being the narcissistic

fool that he is, this will keep him happy, and out of our collective hair…

or feathers, as the case may be. ”



“I suppose it’s worth a try,” acquiesced the cook, yawning again.

Tears fell from the corners of his eyes as he yawned yet again. “You all

have a good night.” And with that, King Ato the Eighth retired to his

cabin.

“Aye,” muttered Captain Salt, more to himself than to Roger or

Ato. Nodding at the Read Bird, he trudged off to his private cabin at the

end of the deck, and quietly closed the door behind him.

“Well!” squawked Roger. He flew back up to the crow’s nest and

was soon asleep.

CHAPTER TWO: OF THINGS UNSURE

“Land ho! Rock Island to port!” shouted Roger, waking up in a

flurry of feathers. A nightmare had gripped him in his sleep until sunrise,

and after shaking himself out of it, the first thing that met his sight was

the small island just ahead of the ship, and slightly to the left. Their

course would take them by its northern shoreline, and already several

birds could be seen flying about its rocky crags. Terns, seagulls, even

albatross… but, as usual, no rocs.

Sighing, Roger fluttered down the mast and to Captain Salt’s

cabin, passing Zipper the ork on the way.“Rock Island or Roc Island?” asked the ork sleepily as Roger flew

past him. The large bird arose from his makeshift nest of coiled rope,

stretching his four gangly limbs as he did, and then trotted off behind

Roger. His talons clicked noisily on the wooden deck as he went, but

Roger was actually glad of that, since it saved him the trouble of waking

everyone else up himself.

“The captain’s wanted to get his hands on a roc’s egg for decades

now,” explained Roger, rolling his eyes with annoyance as he waddled

along the deck. “I would even dare say it has become his one consuming

passion. But every time we make it back to Rock Island, there aren’t

any. And I’m glad too!”



“Definitely!” agreed Zipper, shuddering. “How cruel! Imagine if

he’d gone after an ork egg, or… er… what exactly are you?”

“I’m a Read Bird!” squawked Roger, turning around to glare

angrily at the ork. He placed his feathered wings on his hips and

sneered, his eyes narrowing into angry squints.

“Yes,” replied the ork, coming up short as he stood embarrassed

before Roger. “But what exactly is a Read Bird? I mean, is that your

title…as in you’re the Read Bird, or is it your species? Where are you

from? Are there other Read Birds?” The ork fluttered his saucer-like

wings, and awaited an answer. To illustrate his point, he added, “I’m an

ork, not The Ork.”

Roger stood motionless, frozen in consternation and confusion.

“Well, I… er… that is…” To tell the truth, Roger had no idea what he

was, other than a bird of sorts. Puffing out his cheeks and snorting, he

turned once again toward Captain Salt’s door. Upon reaching it, he

jumped up and grabbed hold of the brass ring knocker with his beak,

giving it a great slam. “Wake up! Captain Salt! WAKE! UP! Oh, what’s

the point?” He gazed back at Zipper, who was tapping his taloned toe

expectantly. “Rock Island, to the left, and behind us,” muttered the birddejectedly.

Zipper nodded his head understandingly. “Who knows?” he asked.

“Today might’ve been the day that there actually was a roc’s egg there.

You and I both know how awful it would be for the poor mother if we

allowed them to steal it away from her.”

“What’s going on?” Both birds turned to see Arko, Orpa, Tandy

and Sally leaning up on the rim of the pool. It was Tandy who had

spoken. Apparently he was growing accustomed to spending nights in

the tank as a merman. He and Sally stepped through the gate of the

tank, their legs instantly re-forming from their fish tails. Stretching,

Tandy grabbed his shirt from the peg on the mast, and donned it

quickly. Sally’s gown floated dryly about her, her sea fairy magic



ensuring that she was perfectly at home on dry land, or at sea… or on a

ship.

“Thought you went below deck last night,” Roger mumbled.

“Didn’t see you get in there.” He and Zipper both looked back at the

island that the Crescent Moon slipped past, and the Read Bird spoke.

“Rock Island, yet again. And this time we didn’t go out and look for rocs’

eggs. Or,” he amended, “rather, Captain Salt didn’t send you out to look

for rocs’ eggs.”

A sly grin spread across the boy king’s face, and he glanced wryly

at Roger, Zipper, and then Sally. “You do realize,” he said, rather

quietly, “that I found rocs’ eggs on Rock Island each and every time I

went out there, don’t you?” He folded his arms across his chest. Before

Roger or any of the others could answer, he put his fingers to his lips

and shushed them. “Shh! Let’s go back to the tank!”

Nikobo nodded in approval once she heard Tandy’s revelation, and

quietly added, “I knew you didn’t have it in you to steal a mother’s

baby.” A large tear welled up in the hippopotamus’s eye and slid down

her snout. “You’re a good boy.” Over the years, Nikobo came to look

upon Tandy as her son, and he often treated her as a mother-figure. Thiswas not lost on Sally, who wrapped her arm tighter around Tandy’s and

pulled closer to him.

They gathered close around the tank to learn that each year, as

the Crescent Moon passed Rock Island, Captain Salt would send Tandy

out in a skiff to search for and bring back a roc’s egg; and each time

Tandy would return empty-handed. Though rocs had been sighted flying

about and roosting on the island, Captain Salt’s prize eluded him every

time.

“Once, I figured I’d bring an egg-shaped rock on board, just to

appease the captain… but it started hatching right when I lifted it. It

really was a roc’s egg! I had to put it down quick!”



Ato rang fourteen bells from the kitchen, interrupting their

huddled discussion, and rousing Captain Salt, Truella, and presumably

Bobo from their sleep. “Breakfast!” came the voice of the ship’s cook

from below deck. Leaving Nikobo, Arko and Orpa in the tank, Tandy,

Sally, Roger and Zipper descended the steps leading downward to the

galley. Captain Salt was awake as well, or so they gathered by all the

stomping and fussing that came from his cabin. With a slam of a door

and heavy footfalls, the Captain came bounding down the stairs.

“I could’ve slept another hour or so,” he groused as he erupted

into the kitchen in a flurry of brash colors just as the others were taking

their seats at the large table. “I see our guest the ork is here,” he

observed, nodding at Zipper. “An’ where’s Princess Truella?”

“Good morning, everyone,” said the princess as she entered the

kitchen. Though her dress was still torn, her hair was neatly combed

back, and her face was fresh and clean. “It’s wonderful what just a few

hours of sleep can do for you, right?” She smiled brightly and sat in the

chair that Tandy had chivalrously pulled out for her. “Something smells

lovely!”

“Why am I still on this wreck of a ship?” demanded a surly voicefrom behind them. Truella and the others turned to see Prince Bobo

stumbling awkwardly into the kitchen, his princely garments looking

slept in and rumpled. He rubbed his eyes and repeated, “Why am I still

here? Are we docked at my summer palace? I thought I told you to wake

me once we got here! Do you people ever listen?? I’ll take some

breakfast, but then I must be off!” He sat grumpily in another chair and

stared grimly at his empty plate, a knife and fork in either hand.

“Ahem,” coughed Ato from over at his vast stove. “Tandy, if you

could?” The ship’s cabin boy quickly arose to help Ato pass out the food.

With Sally at his side almost constantly, Tandy, being heavily smitten as

it were, was quite distracted, and was forgetting to do the things he

normally would.



“Your majesty,” Tandy said, holding a huge bowl of scrambled

eggs, with a serving spoon in hand.

“Fill it up,” grunted Bobo, backing away from the plate he had

hunched over.

“Eggs?!” demanded Zipper, aghast. The ork stared in horror at the

bowl, and then to his fellow avian, Roger, who licked his tongue over his

beak in anticipation. “You can’t possibly be willing to eat eggs???”

“Oh, my friend Zipper,” assured Ato, piling some onto a plate that

was set before the ork. “These are the freshest eggs you can get, grown

on Jacqueline’s island from the best egg-plants. They cultivate them

there, along with their fruit groves. Truly organic in every sense of the

word.”

“These are vegetables?” demanded Zipper, still staring at the food

in disgust.

“Vegetables!” replied Roger, who was already digging into the pile

of scrambled eggs that Tandy had put on his plate.

“I was not referring to you,” spoke Tandy, curtly, addressing Bobo.

Even a budding romance could not make Tandy see the prince as other

than the ass he truly was. He turned and bowed to Truella. “Yourmajesty,” he repeated. “Would you care to have some scrambled eggs?”

“Please, and thank you,” replied the princess, leaning back to

allow Tandy access to her plate. “That looks and smells wonderful!”

Ato followed with a heaping platter of steaming sausage links.

“These are fresh from the sausage groves of Quok. Can’t get any

better!”

“Oh, indeed!” agreed Truella. “We trade with them all the time,

since Quok’s just south of Mo, across Junkum.” Eagerly, the princess

used her fork to pull several sausage links onto her plate. “Thank you!”

By now, Bobo realized that the ‘majesty’ Tandy had referred to

was not him; and not just because his plate was still barren. As Tandy

filled Bobo’s plate with eggs, which Ato followed with sausage, Bobo



turned to stare at the newcomer seated across from him. Though he was

annoyed that his question went unanswered, he was intrigued to see

that there were two new arrivals on the ship: a princess and an ork. A

princess of Mo, to be precise. He knew there were many, but still… a

princess of Mo, all the same.

“Oh, where are my manners?” said Bobo, standing up and bowing

to Truella.

“Where indeed?” whispered Roger to Sally, who giggled behind

her hand.

Ignoring the Read Bird’s statement, Bobo grasped Truella’s hand

and bent to kiss it. “I am Prince Bobo, ruler of Boboland. Whom do I have

the honor of addressing?”

Withdrawing her hand from his, Truella blushed, and nodded her

head. “I am Truella of Mo, daughter of the Magical Monarch. I’m so

delighted to see you, Prince Bobo. I was actually on my way to visit you

when a terrible storm blew us off course.”

“Oh, and it was a monster storm, too!” bewailed Zipper,

shuddering, his plumed tuft quivering all about, his eyes looking straight

down at his plate. Though Zipper had gladly eaten his sausages, he stillsniffed reluctantly at the scrambled eggs still on his plate. Noting the

ork’s discomfort, Ato pulled the dish away, and opened a cupboard to

look for some oats or nuts.

“You absolutely must depart with me,” insisted Bobo, grinning.

“We are docked at my summer palace, and I’m sure you will be

delighted with the royal accommodations.”

Roger coughed, disguising a snicker, while Ato blushed and

bustled away to his stove, where he was bringing a large pot of water to

boil for lunch.

“Well, now,” muttered Captain Salt, but his voice trailed off into

his beard.



Truella continued smiling at Bobo, and placed her hand on her

cheek. “Oh… I had thought we were traveling to Tarara. Zipper and I will

gladly accompany you, and perhaps be of assistance on the voyage.”

Bobo’s fork fell with a clatter as he dropped it next to his plate.

Turning slowly to face Captain Salt, the prince of Boboland grimaced and

asked, “Is this true?”

It was with a great deal of ruffled feathers, coughing, stuttering,

and “Now, see here!” that the situation was explained to Bobo. He was a

captive guest on the Crescent Moon, and no amount of threats,

wheedling, and whining would change the ship’s course. Truella, who

was a mystified part of Captain Salt’s conspiracy, did her best to calm

the prince, and much as Ato had predicted, her presence was enough to

eventually sooth Bobo into a sullen silence. Before he stalked back to his

cabin, he managed to bow politely to Truella, and gave each of the other

members of the crew a menacing stare through narrowed eyes, along

with a meaningful “bah!”

As Ato and Tandy brought up breakfast for the mer-folk and the

hippopotamus, Sally cleared away the dishes and began washing them

in the kitchen’s sink. Truella gladly joined her, rolling up the vast, puffyred sleeves of her gown and tying her hair in a knot behind her head.

“Oh, what fun!” exulted Truella as the sink filled up with sudsy

water. “I haven’t gotten to wash dishes in at least fifty years! We’re on

an actual adventure, aren’t we?”

“I do believe we are,” replied Sally as she stood next to the

princess. After the first basin had filled, she filled up the second one

next to it in the sink, to rinse off the dishes. “I haven’t had the chance to

actually wash dishes before.” She looked around the kitchen, along with

Truella, and both ladies let out a collective gasp. Pots and pans were

piled on counter tops, with dishes, cups, saucers, and all sorts of

silverware in between. Turning to the princess with a grin, Sally

exclaimed, “I think we’re going to have to clean the entire kitchen!”



“Oh good!” squealed Truella, dancing up and down and clasping

her hands with glee.

Ato returned to his kitchen a good while later, after having visited

with Nikobo, Arko, Orpa, and the rest of the crew. Much to his surprise,

the breakfast dishes had been cleaned and were stacked neatly in the

drying rack, and the two ladies were busily attacking the rest of the

cleaning that he had not yet gotten around to.

“Can I interest you two in a steady position here in the kitchen?”

he laughingly asked.

“Only if you promise to try some of my family recipes!” answered

Truella eagerly. She and Sally both were anxious to help out on the

journey, and had found their spot on the Crescent Moon.

The two soon became well entrenched in the ship’s crew, despite

Truella’s insistence that she was merely along for this single journey,

and would depart once they returned to Boboland. Sally, on the other

hand, made no such comments. On the contrary, she was hoping to

remain on board as long as they would have her.

“Orpa,” said Sally, leaning curiously toward the green-scaled

mermaid, “I love your name. Is it possible that it’s a family name?” Thesea fairy had brought up a platter of sliced melon to share with them,

and resumed her mermaid form once she stepped into the tank.

Orpa smiled sadly and waved her tail in the water, accidentally

splashing Nikobo in the face. The hippo laughed, not minding at all. “I

was named for my grandfather,” Orpa replied. Noticing Sally’s and

Nikobo’s startled looks, she clarified. “He spelled his name with an ‘h’ at

the end. It’s a masculine version of the name. He departed long ago for

the mainland of Oz. I believe he is something like a guardian for a herd

of seahorses that live in a salt-water lake in the Munchkin Country… for

the king of the Munchkins? I can’t remember his name right now. I sure

do miss him.” She sighed, slumping her shoulders.



“We’re seriously far from the mainland of Oz,” commented Tandy

as he walked over to the tank. Doffing his shirt and his sandals, the

cabin boy walked through the gate of the tank and sat down next to

Sally in the water. By now, being temporarily transformed into a

merman by the sea fairy was no longer new to him, but he enjoyed it

nonetheless. “We’re getting close to Tarara, to my homeland:

Ozamaland… or Ozama. I think that’s what the people called it. It’s been

so very long…”

“How long has it been?” asked Sally as she leaned her head on his

chest, allowing her blonde hair to cascade over it and mingle in the

water.

Tandy thought for a moment, pursing his lips and staring

downward at the fish tail that had formed from his legs. He wiggled it

about in the tank, and Sally affectionately wrapped her tail around his. “I

think,” he began slowly, looking up at his companions. Nikobo nudged

his other side, and he patted her head absent-mindedly. “Eighty…

eighty years, maybe?”

Sally gasped. As a sea fairy, she would not age and had indeed

been alive for countless decades—if not centuries—but she realized thateight decades was very much a long time for humans. “Do you think

anything has changed?”

Tandy shook his head, though he was not certain. “I’m sure

Chunum is waiting for me to get back,” he murmured as night fell on the

ship and the waters of the Nonestic. “It’s a magical land, just like Oz, Ev,

Mo, Ix, Boboland… Nobody… grows old there. I think .”

Nikobo nudged Tandy’s side again, and Sally wrapped her arms

around Tandy’s waist. Arko and Orpa mirrored them across the tank,

wrapped in each other’s arms, but remained silent. They all could sense

Tandy’s uncertainty and his concern.

“I’ve been away too long. Really, it’s not very nice that I’ve made

Chunum wait so long. Imagine how relieved he’ll be that I’m returning!”



The journey to Tarara was blessedly uneventful. At times, Arko,

Orpa and Sally would dive off the side of the ship to swim ahead of it,

joining pods of orcas or dolphins, or to seek out any unique ocean

produce that might grow in the region. Thankfully the ship’s hold was

filled to overflowing with the watermelons from Pirate Island, and Ato’s

ample stores ensured a good variety of meals along the way. Still,

though, sea-cucumbers and water chestnuts were welcome additions to

the stores.

Occasionally Prince Bobo would deign to gloomily walk along the

deck and stare off in the distance behind them, but he said little,

morosely accepting his fate. A silent Bobo was something the crew

couldn’t quite get use to.

“Perhaps the prince is aware of his sister’s efforts in his stead,”

mused Ato to Tandy one evening as they watched Bobo glumly dragging

his feet across the boards of the deck.

“He didn’t really put up as much of a fight as I thought he would,”

added the cabin boy. His own demeanor was enough to concern the

ship’s cook, who took it upon himself to engage the cabin boy in

conversation as much as possible.Ato noticed, with some relief, that Tandy was still drawing, and

admired the highly-detailed portrait Tandy had just completed of the

scowling prince.

“I expect his majesty, despite his attitude, knows that his kingdom

is in good hands,” added Roger, who had fluttered down from the crow’s

nest to join them. The Read Bird, too, had noticed Tandy’s listlessness,

and meant to find out what was going on. With a crowd gathering, Tandy

self-consciously closed his sketchbook and put it under his arm, stowing

the pencil over his ear.

As the three watched, Truella emerged from below deck and

strode purposefully over to Bobo, walking along beside him as he

sullenly stared off at the horizon. She spoke with him quietly, gingerly



placing her hand on his shoulder, and then cautiously linking her arm

through his.

“And that,” declared Ato, grinning at his friends, “is why having a

princess of Mo aboard is an excellent idea!”

CHAPTER THREE: OF THINGS CHANGED

“Please inform this so-called Sheik of yours,” declared Tandy

authoritatively, yelling across to the other ship, “that King Tazander

Tazah has returned, and would appreciate being allowed to disembark in

his own land without any further delay!”

“Oho! King Tazander it is, yes?” retorted the smiling, rotund man

from the other ship which was idling close by. The Crescent Moon had

set anchor off the southernmost coast of Tarara, near the White City of

Om. The large man genuflected regally with a flair of sarcasm, then

shouted across, “Please be patient, young man. I will return shortly with

an answer!” With the smirk of a smile and disparaging flounce, the

plump dignitary turned away.

Roughly two weeks’ sailing had brought the Crescent Moon to the

eastern shores of Ozamaland, its stunning white cliffs prominently in

sight all along the coast. Another day’s sailing brought the ship and itscrew to the massive jetties that reached out from the port city of Om.

“No ship has ever touched its shores,” explained Tandy, pointing out to

the long docks and jetties at which other ships had weighed anchor.

“And probably never will.”

An armada of vessels had met the old pirate ship near the dock

that led to the path up the cliffs to Om. They were small, swift craft,

richly painted in bright shades of blue, purple, and gold. “Like gaudy

peacocks,” noted Captain Salt as they were met with the flagship of the

armada, “and just as creepy, I might add.”

“I don’t recall there being an armada here the last time we

visited,” observed Ato. He, along with the rest of the voyagers, had

gathered with Tandy on the deck of the Crescent Moon to confront the



flotilla of ships. “But that was decades ago, as clear as I can remember.

It seems things have changed somewhat since then.”

The rotund fellow—one Ali ben Utsa, as he had identified himself—

welcomed them to “Ot’Sama”, which Tandy felt must have been an odd

pronunciation of “Ozama,” though it somehow sounded right to him.

Even with that small assurance, the roving king could not seem to find

any peace of mind about his much delayed homecoming.

Yet another day passed before the flagship returned, having left

the rest of the armada to keep an eye on the Crescent Moon. Ali ben

Utsa once again shouted across the expanse of water to the newcomers,

insisting that they follow his ship westward along the coast, to an inlet

where a grand river wound its way inland. Once at the mouth of the

river, they would dock, and make contact with the man that Ali referred

to only as “His Most Exalted Majesty.”

This was all highly unusual, but once Ato and Bobo both reminded

Captain Salt that he was a knight of Oz, and acted as Royal Emissary on

behalf of Queen Ozma herself, and that Tandy was indeed king of this

land and that rules of decorum should be followed, they agreed to ben

Utsa’s orders and followed his ship to the mouth of the river. Though thevast majority of the armada dropped away to remain at their posts, a

good many of the peacock-hued craft accompanied them, which left

Tandy feeling even more bewildered.

The waters along the coast were choppy with dancing billows,

even as far out as the armada escorted the Crescent Moon. As far as the

eye could see, white cliffs towered over blindingly white sandy beaches,

with massive jetties intermittently jutting out into the water from the

coast. The jetties were formed from gigantic white boulders, and one

could only imagine how high they were piled deep into the ocean to

reach out as far as they did. Some of the jetties, as Captain Salt

presumed, were as much as a mile long.



The sun dipped lower, tainting the western horizon with its bloody

hue, as Ali ben Utsa at last led them to a region of coastline that was

much lusher with foliage. Soon the white cliffs ceased, allowing the

jungle flora to crowd around the mouth of a great river.

“I think I remember that,” noted Tandy, somewhat more hopeful,

as the ships changed course toward it. The Ozamaland ships put out

oars from their sides and started inward, but Captain Salt merely pushed

some of the knobs at the ship’s helm, enabling the Crescent Moon to

move against the current with ease. “I think it’s called…” He paused,

shaking his head as if shaking loose the memory. “Otsavom? The

Otsavom River?” He nodded his head, a smile slowly working its way

across his lips. “Yes, that’s the Otsavom River! There’s a port inland a

bit, where it branches off to the Movasto River, and that’s why the land

is so lush here. That’s why Om was built on the coast… the cliffs on the

south, the Movasto on the north. I remember, because they’re the same

word, and one is just spelled backwards! I remember!”

Standing beside him, Sally could easily feel Tandy’s excitement.

She looked at his face, just moments before lined with doubt, now

positively beaming with joy. She smiled at him, and marveled how helooked like a lost little boy now finally returning home. Sally felt a bit of

longing pass over her, thinking of her own home under the sea and far

away, but let it pass knowing she would see it again soon. Tandy

glanced happily at Sally, pressing her hand tightly in his, finding a

renewed confidence in the closeness of her.

King Tazander Tazah had put away the mundane attire of Tandy

the cabin boy, and now wore a more regal tunic and leggings, with a

cape hanging off one shoulder, and his old crown atop his head. There

were some dents in the golden coronet, but it was still a stunning

symbol of his power and title. Ato had doffed his chef’s hat and apron,

and likewise put on the regalia he had in storage. Prince Bobo and

Princess Truella, side by side, had dressed up in their finest. For Truella,



that meant repairing any rents in her gown with whatever thread she

could find aboard. Thankfully, with the bolts of cloth in the ship’s hold, a

good supply of thread could be found, and she even nicked a length of

red velvet which she sewed with brocade to make a new cape befitting

her status. Captain Salt had donned his military finest, presenting a

dashing figure as he personally steered the ship upriver.

“This is definitely more interesting than the coral reef,” enthused

Arko to Orpa, as the two swam about anxiously in the tank, almost

matching the restless pacing of the others on deck. “Yes, indeed,”

agreed the mermaid. “This might just turn out to be a grand adventure

yet.”

“We must be on our finest behavior, you two,” admonished

Nikobo, her snout regally turned upward and sniffing at the air. “This is

Tandy’s home country, and we represent Her Majesty, Ozma of Oz. We

are emissaries to this strange land—you, I, the Captain, all of us—and

must present an air of dignity and decorum. We do not want these

people thinking we are a bunch of uncivilized simpletons.”

Orpa laughed, sending a huge splash of water at the hippo’s head

with her tail. “Oh, fie on dignity and a pox on decorum! We can still beemissaries, and have fun while we’re at it! This is an adventure, after

all.”

Nikobo looked pointedly at the mermaid. “We don’t know these

people,” she said softly, blinking her large, wet eyes. “I’m afraid Tandy

might be right in his concern. Things may have changed since we were

last here, and perhaps not for the better.” She thought about the

armada of ships that had met them upon their arrival, and the strange

way they were being herded up a river instead of being allowed direct

access to Om. This was not how a kingdom should greet its long absent

sovereign. “Please, let’s just take this one carefully, all right?”

Orpa nodded her head in agreement, the gravity of their current

situation finally sinking in. Her eyes looked out over the bow of the ship



at their naval escort, and narrowed with suspicion. She leaned in closer

to her husband, entwining her fluke tail tightly with his, as the spines on

her body pulsated with a deadly twinge.

Along the banks of the river, smaller docks poked out from the

land into the water, with ships of all sorts and sizes either moving about

or anchored to them. Eastward, to their right, and a few miles off, smoke

from chimneys rose upward, and stray lights began to flicker on as dusk

fell like a heavy net.

“That’ll be the river port,” breathed Tandy in excitement to Sally.

He kept his eyes trained on their destination. “It was so small… an

outpost, really. The last time I was here—before Captain Salt and Ato

rescued me, that is—I took a tour to inspect it. There was a small fort

guarding the dock, and a single road leading to it from Om. Just look at

it! Look at how it’s grown!”

Ali ben Utsa’s smaller ship slowed, and with his telescope, Captain

Salt could see the chubby man waving for them to steer close enough to

his ship for shouting.

“Honored guests!” shouted the man. He was wearing different

clothes from when they first encountered him. Now he wore a garishblue robe, and a matching gaudy headscarf tied around his brow with an

embellishing gold cord. “Kindly weigh anchor here, if you would be so

kind. A boat will be sent out to you, and we request that you join us for a

banquet in your honor!”

“A banquet?” repeated Ato incredulously, turning to exchange

confused looks with the others. Roger remained in the crow’s nest,

keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings. Sally, Arko and Orpa had

stealthily crept down the sides of the ship to swim by its keel, and

Zipper had flown into the jungle the first chance he could, as they

passed a bend in the river and came within mere feet of the lush foliage.

With the mer-folk and the ork off-ship, Captain Salt felt more assured. If



something unforeseen should arrive, something unfortunate, at least

their friends could either flee, or, if need be, come to their aid.

“A banquet!” laughed Ali, seeing the exchanged looks of concern

between the Crescent Moon’s crew. “Please, join us! His Most Gracious

and Exalted Majesty insists!”

“Normally, I’m all for a banquet,” remarked Ato to his shipmates.

He stood with Captain Salt, Prince Bobo, and Princess Truella on deck,

awaiting the boat that would take them to the mainland. Nikobo and

Roger would remain on board, though only the hippopotamus would be

in sight. Roger was silent and hidden.

Soon, a boat was dispatched from the dock near where the ship

had anchored. As it neared the ship, Captain Salt and the others were

obliged to descend a rope ladder to meet it. Ato remained on board, a

symbolic gesture really, but strategic as well.

Ali ben Utsa himself was on the boat, having docked his ship and

gone ashore. He led the boat from the dock to the Crescent Moon, and

welcomed Captain Salt, Bobo, Tandy and Truella. “Where is the rest of

your crew?” he asked, looking above them to the ship suspiciously.

“Surely a craft this size demands a full crew? You must have almost onehundred men!” The vizier was digging, none too subtlety, to assess

what he considered to be a threat.

“Aye, she’s a big ship, ain’t she?” agreed Captain Salt, guardedly.

“The crew’s been ordered below deck to their quarters. We don’t want

any trouble, and some of ’em are a rowdy bunch, they is.” He looked

steadily at Bobo, Truella, and Tandy as he spoke, communicating with

them silently to keep up the ruse. There was something suspicious

about this entire situation, and they could not yet afford to be

completely forthcoming with their hosts.

“Of course, of course,” wheezed Ali with thinly veiled distrust,

genuflecting begrudgingly to his guests as they entered the boat. The

last down the ladder was Truella, and the men rowing the boat averted



their eyes from her, though they stared in curiosity at the men.

“Welcome,” muttered Ali in Truella’s direction. He did not look upon her

face, but stared downward as he spoke to her.

Truella noticed the men’s reticence toward her and wondered, but

said nothing as she sat next to Prince Bobo on the boat. Tandy and

Captain Salt sat on her other side, flanking her. All of a sudden, the

three men felt very protective of the princess, making sure to keep her

between them and away from the others.

A glance toward the water informed Captain Salt that Arko, Orpa

and Sally were well out of sight, though he did catch a glimpse of a tail…

presumably belonging to Arko or Orpa. Tandy looked too, and then met

Samuel’s eyes. Nodding slightly to each other, they returned their

attention quickly to Ali.

“A banquet?” questioned the young Ozamaland king. “So, word of

my return has spread, then. Why, though, have we been escorted here,

rather than to the White City of Om?”

“All will be made clear, honorable guests. Please have patience,

which is a virtue, after all. We will soon be on the shore. Movasto awaits

you as does our Most Regal Lord!” Venom dripped with each worduttered from the vizier’s mouth.

“Movasto,” repeated Tandy musingly, choosing to ignore the

portly man’s rudeness. “That’s the river tributary that goes back toward

Om, isn’t it?”

Ali nodded, smiling. “Your knowledge of our geography is most

accurate,” he said in his wheedling tone, his eyes narrowing with

mistrust. He pointed toward the village of buildings and tents that

awaited them. “The port takes its name from the river. Movasto has

been generous to Ot’Sama. Praise ever be to Arpete'!”

“Ot’Sama,” echoed Tandy, turning his gaze away from the port to

address their wary host. “Ot’Sama… not Ozama? Ozamaland?”



“We have heard that other people call our land by this profane

name,” Ali replied. “But let me assure you, dear guest: our land has

been always… Ot’Sama.” Reverently, the vizier steepled his fingers in

front of his puffy face, and looked solemnly upward as he spoke the

name.

Tandy nodded, licking lips that had suddenly gone dry. “That’s

right,” he said, quietly. “Not Ozamaland… Ot’Sama. That’s right.” Once

more, he returned his gaze to the port. “Movasto! Wow!”

Once the boat reached the dock, they were all able to step out of

it easily, and walk to the shore. The four men who had road the boat

averted their eyes from Truella as she disembarked, as did Ali. Prince

Bobo genteelly offered his arm to her, and both silently followed behind

Samuel and Tandy as they were led toward the settlement.

Rough buildings and tents of all sizes were clustered about the

area, which had been cleared of jungle quite some time ago. The ground

was trampled flat, and there were streets and alleyways between the

buildings upon which carts were pulled by white camels and elephants.

As they passed, soldiers in brilliant white uniforms pushed back

onlookers to give Captain Salt and the others a clear path toward alarge, regal tent toward the settlement’s center. They could not help but

notice that the people bustling about were mostly men; all wearing the

same sort of cloth head coverings, though some children darted about

between the crowds. Several gasped in disbelief as they caught sight of

Truella, and quickly averted their gazes while making strange gestures

with their hands.

“Patriarchal society?” muttered Tandy with disapproval. He

reached his arm protectively toward Truella, linking it in her own. On her

other side, Bobo had already put his arm through hers, so the princess

was flanked by her stalwart defenders. “I don’t remember it being like

this… but maybe…” Tandy felt any hint of nostalgia drain completely

away from him.



“Let’s just get to where we’re going, and let that wait until later,”

grumbled Bobo, who had until this point kept silent. “I do not like it here.

I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t know that I care for this so-called

country of yours.” He shot a dark glance at Tandy, and then turned

away.

Ali ben Utsa, with great pomposity, addressed the white-suited

guards outside the great palatial tent. Torches burned on sconces all

around the pavilion, sending smoke upward and giving off a good

amount of heat. The guards bowed curtly to Ali, then stepped out of his

way. One lifted the entry flap of the tent, and the others gestured at Ali

and his guests to enter.

The canvas of the tent itself was of bright blue tints, ranging from

diamond to deep aqua, with purple, turquoise, and green stripes

between the larger blue panels. Gold cords wove between the cloth

panels and the firelight from outside pulsated through the brilliant

fabric, casting an uneasy blue glow over everything inside.

A low table was spread with several ornate dishes and cups. Blue

and gold cushions were set at six places around the table. Ali gestured

for them to take their seats, which they carefully did, leaving thecushion at the head of the table open for their host.

“His Most Noble Majesty will be joining us shortly,” he explained to

them, nodding at each in turn—except for Truella, whom he quickly

passed his gaze over. “Please, do wait to partake until His Grace arrives.

It is with great honor that we welcome you to Movasto, and we only ask

that you respect our customs.” He glanced tellingly at Captain Salt, but

Samuel understood nothing of the look. Thinking fast, Tandy reached up

a hand and pulled the captain’s hat off his head, setting it in front of

him.

A stirring of cloth in the rear of the tent drew their attention, and

they all turned to see another—apparently hidden—flap lifted to allow

another man to enter. He was an elderly gentleman, dressed in blue and



gold finery, with a cloth tied about his head much like the others they

had encountered. He walked with a staff in hand, and was followed by

three of the soldiers. Each soldier carried with them a broad scimitar,

which they simultaneously removed from their belts and pointed at the

visitors.

“What manner of double-dealing is this?!!” demanded Captain Salt

angrily, trying to hastily rise to his feet. Strong hands latched on to his

shoulders and pushed the good captain down from behind. The other

baffled guests looked about the tent in dismay, noting quickly that four

more guards had silently crept in behind them.

“A simple formality, you must understand,” sneered Ali with his

serpentine grin, remaining seated as he smugly folded his hands across

his ample belly. He then nodded at the older man, who merely turned

his gaze away in disgust.

The old man gestured to the guards behind them, but did not

speak. The guards knelt down and patted Samuel, Tandy and Bobo all

over, reaching around from behind them to feel over their arms, chests,

waists, and legs. The soldier behind Captain Salt removed the old

pirate’s muskets and daggers, much to Samuel’s objections. Thescimitars aimed at their throats were enough to keep them immobile,

allowing the other soldiers to complete their tasks. Only Truella

remained unmolested for the moment. Then the old man strode around

to stand behind her, using his staff to carefully tap the princess’s sides

and arms.

With a snort of dissidence, the older fellow walked out the front

flap of the tent, followed by the four guards who had knelt behind the

guests and searched them. The three guards with brandished scimitars

pulled them back, sheathing them. They backed up to the rear of the

tent, exiting as abruptly as they had entered.

“I am sure I do not need to explain what that was about,” drawled

Ali ben Utsa derisively. “And if you need to ask, I would have to question



your lack of intelligence. A little more patience is still required of you, if

you would be so kind.”

“He didn’t hurt you with that damnable staff, did he?” demanded

Bobo, speaking softly to Truella. She shook her head, her pale cheeks

flushing crimson. The prince nodded gently and sighed in relief.

“That was a security pat-down,” commented Tandy appreciatively.

He was unaffected by the experience, realizing the necessity of such a

thing. “We’re meeting at a remote outpost, rather than in the city

proper. It’s all precautions for safety, of course.”

Captain Salt merely growled, wrinkling his nose at the smarmy,

rotund fellow who was calmly sitting at the far end of the table with his

sickening smile.

Once again, the rear flap of the tent was lifted, allowing two girls

to enter. They were dressed in shades of blue and gold, and wore veils

over their pretty olive-colored faces. They glanced demurely at the

guests, and widened their eyes in surprise and pleasure at Truella.

Through the veils, both women could be seen to smile as they poured a

crystalline liquid from shiny copper pitchers into the cups at each

setting.“Thank you,” said Truella, appreciatively placing her hand upon

the server’s. The young woman nodded back to her, but said nothing.

She exchanged a smile with her companion, and the two left after filling

all the cups on the table, including that of their absent host.

Three boys entered, looking no more than fifteen or sixteen years

of age, and carried with them plates heaped with savory slices of roast,

steamed vegetables, and piles of spiced rice. These they set out on the

table in front of each guest. Taking his cue from Truella, Tandy reached

out to touch the arm of one of the boys. “Thank you,” he said, looking

into one boy’s face. His skin was darker than Tandy’s, despite the deep

tan that darkened the young king’s complexion. The fellow—not a boy at

all, but a young man—had dark hair that was tied back behind his head,



and like the women, wore bright blues and gold. He appeared to be

older than the others by a few years; at least eighteen or nineteen, and

possibly as old as twenty-five. Narrowing his eyes and tilting his head,

he looked carefully at Tandy, studying his face, then nodded and left

with the others. “You are most welcome, honored guests,” he said as he

stepped out.

“I’m starting to get hungry,” complained Bobo under his breath. “I

wish our marvelous host would get on with it.”

Ali placed his stubby fingers to his mouth stifling a chortle, as he

nodded his chubby head at them. The cloth he wore over his head

swayed with imperious glee, brushing against the collar of his shirt. “You

have already met him…well, them actually.” He guffawed outright, and

then quieted down at once as the back flap was raised once again.

The same server that Tandy had spoken to, along with one of the

girls who had come in previously, entered. The clothes they wore were

now embellished with lavish vests and resplendent jewelry.

The young woman’s dress was accentuated with a shimmery belt

made from precious stones and pearlescent shells, and around her

wrists were tied several jeweled bracelets. At her neck was a large pearlpendant, surrounded by blue and turquoise gemstones. Though covered

with a veil, they could easily see her bright red lips drawn in a pleasant

smile, and her black hair was tied up behind her ears with finely jeweled

chains.

The man was less lavishly adorned, though he had donned a

purple and blue vest over his simple shirt. A golden sash was tied about

his waist, and large blue opals were on rings on both hands. Around his

neck hung a golden chain, from which a pearl matching the young

woman’s hung. The cloth over his head was tied with a woven gold sash.

“Permit me, honored guests, to introduce you to our Most

Esteemed and Exalted Ruler, Sheik Tazander Tazah, the One and Only!

May He reign for a thousand years! ” Waving a pudgy hand in the young



man’s direction, Ali made an ingratiating bow from his seated position.

“And may I also present His most lovely and gracious bride, Najira ab

Alon.” He repeated the gesture to the young woman. After their

introductions, the couple looked for a place to sit, but saw only one open

space.

“I’m afraid my people have made an error,” spoke Sheik

Tazander, looking pointedly at Ali ben Utsa. “There are only six places

set at this table, yet there are seven of us here.”

“Perhaps it is because one of our guests is a woman?” questioned

Najira, tilting her head at the seated princess. “Our retainers are so

devoted to antiquated customs that they would assume a female would

not be welcome at the Sheik’s table. And yet, here I am.” She offered

her hand to Truella, who shook it. “And here you are.”

“And there you are,” added Sheik Tazander, waving his hand

dismissively at Ali. “You are sitting there, when my wife has no place to

sit. What would you have me do?”

A sudden terror overcame the tubby man, and he practically leapt

off the cushion. “Most Gracious Sheik Tazander, I was happily keeping

Najira’s seat for her. It is warm and comfortable!” He turned to theSheik’s wife, looking only at her feet. “Please, allow me to excuse

myself. I am unworthy to remain in your presence. Thank you for

allowing me—”

The Sheik cut him off decidedly with a gesture of his imperial

hand. He held two fingers straight up in his direction, which the

blundering vizier understood immediately. Bowing repeatedly and

practically tripping over his own bumbling feet, Ali ben Utsa backed out

of the tent’s front entrance.

“My apologies, most welcome guests,” spoke the young man

courteously as he led his wife to the end of the table. She sat down on

the cushion, and let go of his hand. He quickly strode to the head of the

table, and took his seat. “We had to ensure that you come in peace. I’m



sure you understand.” His gaze continually returned to Tandy, whom he

studied carefully. “I would love to learn the names of our honored

guests.” He absently pulled at the hairs of his goatee and rubbed his

chin. “Especially you, most honored sir. It would seem you are called

none other than King Tazander Tazah.”

Raising an eyebrow, Tandy realized that the conversation was

directed at him, and took the lead. As he was seated directly to the right

of the Sheik, he began. “My name is indeed Tazander Tazah, and I am

the King of Ozam—er, Ot’Sama. My royal aunts and Sheik Chunum were

ruling in my absence. I’m here to let my people know that I am still alive

and well, and to ask if my aunts and the Sheik would continue to rule

over the country should I choose to go on with my education aboard

Captain Salt’s ship.” Though feeling more welcome with the Sheik and

his wife, Tandy still felt the need to remain guarded, and said nothing

more about himself or his decades-long absence.

Seated to Tandy’s right was the Captain, whom he introduced

next. “This is Sir Samuel Salt, captain of the ship Crescent Moon,

appointed Royal Explorer of Her Majesty, Ozma of Oz. Next to him is

Princess Truella of Mo, daughter of the Magical Monarch of Mo, andemissary of the southern kingdom.”

“And a most gracious welcome to you, Princess,” spoke Najira.

She leaned over the table to address Truella. “It is not often that we

have the honor of welcoming a guest such as you.” She leaned back and

placed her hands in her lap. “Though my husband has made great

strides and advances in thought, there are many here who still adhere

to tradition. It has only been a few years since he has been named Sheik

of Ot’Sama.”

“So we’ve learned,” spoke Tandy. He cleared his throat, and

finished the introductions. “To your left,” he said, addressing Najira, “is

Prince Bobo of Boboland, who is on a quest to establish diplomatic ties

with all the nations of our great continent.”



“And presumably this lovely country, as well,” added Bobo, raising

his cup to salute both the Sheik and Najira.

“A worthy quest indeed,” the Sheik commented, raising his own

cup to mimic Bobo’s friendly gesture. Once again turning his attention to

Tandy, he asked, “Your name is Tazander Tazah, the absent king of

Ot’Sama, yes? We had thought King Tazander was long lost. It has been

nearly a century since last news was heard of the vanished king of Om.

Tell me, please, how you have come to this conclusion that you are he.”

Tandy was affronted, and frowned with distaste. “I am most

certainly the ‘lost’ king of Om. As I told you before, my name is

Tazander Tazah.” Feeling the need to explain himself, he continued.

“When I was last here, the nine Ozamandarins plotted against me, and

got a magician named… Boglodore to kidnap me and do away with me. I

was rescued from my captivity by the good Captain Salt and his crew,

and we returned to Oza—er, I mean, Ot’Sama. The Ozamandarins—”

“Ot’Samandarians, perhaps?” interjected Najira helpfully, tilting

her head.

“Yes, that’s right. That’s it.” Tandy nodded his head, closing his

eyes in concentration. “Didjabo, Lotho, Teebo, and the others. I don’tremember all their names. They locked me up in a tower, and were

going to do something else, but I was rescued again. Sheik Chunum and

my aunts, Alee’ah, Mazarah, and Nylara, they took charge of the country

in my place. I left with the Crescent Moon to…” He paused, struggling to

choose the right words. Did he leave to have fun and enjoy his youth,

gallivanting around the world on a pirate ship, or did he leave to learn

humility and gain an education? “I left with the Crescent Moon in order

to broaden my horizons, to learn as much as I could, and gain the

wisdom that I would need to rule my country as best as possible.”

Sheik Tazander and Najira exchanged knowing looks. Blinking his

eyes downward, the Sheik regarded the cup from which he had not yet

drunk, and then glanced sideways at Tandy.



“You speak the words of history as if from experience.” It was

Najira who had spoken, though all eyes were turned upon the Sheik.

“You realize,” he said in a soft voice, “that you were but a child

when you left here.” He played a wan smile across his face, amused at

the naïveté of it all. Before speaking, the Sheik went over his thoughts

carefully. “All that you had known to be true was from what you

experienced in another part of the world, and not from here. If indeed it

is you, King Tazander, you departed here with a childlike belief in magic;

and though we have some magic in our lands, we are surely not

immortal as you seem to be. We have wars, disease, pestilence,

hardship and despair. We are well-acquainted with what it means to

struggle and to suffer loss. We know what it means to die. But we also

have victory, strength, and happiness. We have life. Those joys are all

the more sweet because they are hard-won.”

He steepled his fingers together in front of his face, then

continued, “Sheik Chunum, may he ever be exalted, has long ago

departed this world; as have your aunts. He did not, however, leave

before starting a family.”

The sheik shifted his position, extending his legs out next to himso he could recline on the tent floor, leaning his head on his hand. “I am

the son of his son. My name is Sheik Tazander al Aqhmal al Chunum,

and your aunt Mazarah was my grandmother. I am the ruler of this land,

and I was named after the long lost king of Ot’Sama… you.”

Tandy’s mind was set spinning at the revelation. A strong feeling

of vertigo overtook him, and his breathing became heavy and labored as

grief set in profoundly upon him. All the people he had known—all the

people he had loved—his aunts, his servants, courtiers—were dead and

gone. They no longer existed, and now slipped away from him like some

mad, fading dream. “Ozamaland” no longer existed the way he

remembered it. Eight decades had passed since he last set foot on

Ot’Saman soil. “What…” he stammered, trying to keep himself from



falling over. He leaned forward over his plate and hung his head low.

“What about the magician from the j-jungle? Bog… Boglodore?”

“We have heard nothing more about the magician,” answered

Najira from the other end of the table. “The history books tell of

Boglodore, and his involvement with your abduction, but once you were

returned to Ot’Sama, his and your stories both come to an end.”

“It has long been said that he and his elephant simply went out

into the great Monshera to die.” Sheik Tazander thought a moment, and

clarified. “The Monshera Desert.”

Tandy’s hands trembled as he fumbled at the silverware by his

plate. He attempted to cut into the roast with his knife, holding it down

with his fork, but his hands would not obey him, and he dropped them

with a clatter on his plate.

“People a-age…and…die…here? They cease to exist? I don’t

remember that. How can I not remember that?? How in Lurline’s name

can I be alive, if Chunum and Mazarah and the others aren’t?” Tears

stung bitterly at the lost king’s eyes, his temples pounding relentlessly.

Prince Bobo was the only member of the banquet who managed to

take some bites of his food, but he too set his fork and knife down. Truella placed her hand upon his, to show her appreciation and to

anchor herself for the coming moments. Captain Salt remained silent,

looking sadly at his young friend. Each of them seemed to understand

the concept of death, but it was still abstract to them. The act of no

longer living was not something they could easily understand. In his

younger years, Captain Salt had known death intimately, and was

thankful that the enchantment giving Ozians and many of their

neighbors enduring life had occurred during his lifetime.

“I’m afraid that be my fault, lad,” muttered the captain sullenly.

He miserably turned to face Tandy. “We been avoidin’ Tarara altogether

all these many years. I should’ve brought ye back sooner. I should’ve

known, but I had no idea that ye’d stop agin’ like the rest of us. Didn’t



even think about it. Lurline’s enchantment… well, you know about

Dorothy and Trot and them. I guess it affected you, too. Only we had no

way o’ knowin’…or maybe I jus’ didn’t wanna know…”

“That my people were cursed to age and die?” growled Tandy, his

eyes clenched as tightly as his fists. “You took me away from my people,

and now they’re gone! All gone!!”

Najira spoke up, the voice of reason ringing in her words. “You told

us that you chose to accompany the captain and his crew,” she said.

She took a sip from her cup and gently set it back down. “You are in a

position unsuitable for arguing, your highness. We live, we age, and we

die. Such is the grand cycle life. It is not your life… not anymore. It is

ours now, and we do not complain.”

Tandy had a thought, and looked up suddenly, glaring at Sheik

Tazander. “You’re the grandson of Chunum and Mazarah. You’re just a

sheik. I’m still the king! This is still my country!”

“Just a sheik!” Laughing softly, Sheik Tazander raised an eyebrow

and regarded Tandy. He swirled the beverage in his cup and looked into

it. Lifting his gaze once more, the ruling sheik locked eyes with the

former king. “You’ll find, my exalted ancestor, that I can be a formidablefoe.” The sheik grinned, his white teeth looking razor sharp. “But,” he

added, “I can be an even better ally and friend.” Sheik Tazander

extended his hand to Tandy. “You must try this sherbet. It is freshly

made from coconut milk and guava purée, with the juice of oranges and

fresh spring water.”

Tandy looked at the hand offered to him. The skin, true enough,

was darker than his flesh; more like his departed Aunt Chunum’s

complexion had been. The nails were well manicured, but the skin of his

palm was rough—the hands of someone familiar with hard work. He

looked into the sheik’s face, studying the eyes that he first thought were

the eyes of a servant.



“It’s good, is it?” he asked, the words almost choked in his throat.

The sheik continued holding out his hand, even when Tandy took a sip

from his cup. He nodded, agreeing. “It’s very good.” He turned to his

companions. “You should try this. I haven’t had anything like this before.

It’s… it’s great.” Sadly, Tandy placed his hand into Tazander’s and

grasped it tightly. A frown played at the corners of his mouth, and Tandy

raised his eyes upward. Samuel, Bobo, Truella and Najira could see his

lower lip trembling, but Captain Salt recognized his cabin boy’s steely

resilience emerging.

“You’re good for the people?” he asked, not facing Tazander.

“We are happy with him,” Najira answered for her husband. “I was

a commoner, and he chose me for his bride. The family Tazah has ruled

Ot’Sama for many, many years, and those years have been kind to us

all.”

“We met in the royal stables,” added Tazander.

“He was shoveling goat dung,” laughed Najira merrily. Truella

blushed and put her fingers to her lips, and Bobo practically choked. No

matter what the circumstance, every time the subject of goats was

broached, the poor Prince of Boboland lost what little composure he had.“Shoveling g-goat dung?” Tandy bleated. “That’s…” He was going

to say that he felt it was commoners’ work, but caught himself. “That’s

not something I would expect of you.”

“And what would you expect of me?” asked Tazander, shifting his

body somewhat so he could pick at the vegetables on his plate.

Skewering several on his fork, he popped them into his mouth, chewed

and swallowed. “You do not know us. It is good that you are here to

remedy that problem.”

“What do I call you?” asked Tandy, staring into his cup. He took

another gulp of the sherbet, draining the cup. Seeing this, Najira quickly

stood and retrieved a pitcher from the back of the tent. Tandy gratefully

held his cup to her as she filled it, after which she refilled the other cups.



“I’d thought sherbet was a kind of ice cream,” he mumbled into the cup

as he drank more.

“Most exalted ancestor, I humbly beg that you call me Tazander.”

“You can’t keep calling me that, though,” replied Tandy. “‘Most

exalted ancestor.’ That makes me sound so…”

“Old?” suggested Bobo impishly. He was rewarded with a slap on

the hand from Truella.

“Call me Tandy, and I’ll call you Tazander.”

“Goat dung, eh?” Captain Salt gratefully cut into the roast on his

plate. The mood lightened, soon all were enjoying the meal. “Ye haven’t

seen nothin’ ’til ye’ve had to shovel hippopotamus dung!”

“Captain Salt !” scolded Tandy, affronted. The sound of laughter

rang throughout the posh tent, sealing the new alliance in true

friendship and mutual trust.

CHAPTER FOUR: OF NEW ADVENTURES SET UPON

It was a good deal later that the four visitors, along with Tazander

and Najira, returned to the dock. Though night had long since fallen,

Captain Salt insisted upon giving the rulers of Ot’Sama a tour of theCrescent Moon, introducing them to Ato, Roger and Nikobo. A call from

the Read Bird signaled Zipper to return to the ship, and he startled

several Ot’Samans as he flew over them to get to the ship. Arko, Orpa

and Sally climbed up the nets, and soon the entire crew of royal

explorers were able to meet the sheik and his wife.

Much to their surprise, Tazander suggested that he accompany

them upriver, while Najira returned to Om. At the base of the river,

further north and out into the desert, another outpost had been

established, and the sheik retained some camels there, along with a

small army to accompany him back to Om. Once Tazander learned of

Captain Salt’s desire to obtain specimens of the “creeping bird and

flying reptile” he volunteered to take them all to where the creatures



had last been spotted. Over the past several decades, their populations

had dwindled, and it was only recently that the reason had become

known.

“Kurays we call them,” explained the sheik. “You’d do well to

avoid them. Foul creatures.” He spat over the side of the ship. “They

have decimated the hebtuos and the ouatos. Our land was once famous

for them. At least the camels and the elephants are too large for them.”

“We must obtain specimens of both,” insisted Captain Salt. He

looked at all the members of the crew pleadingly. “If these creatures are

on the verge of extinction, we owe it to them to bring them back to Oz,

where they can live in peace forevermore.”

Standing next to each other, Bobo and Truella looked at each

other and shrugged. “Why not?” asked the Boboland prince. “We’re out

here anyway. My sister can keep an eye on things a little while longer.

I’m sure she won’t mind.”

Roger sniggered, and explained to Zipper in a whisper that

Princess Bebe had insisted—secretly, of course—that they keep Bobo on

board.

“I go where you go, Captain!” Ato loyally stood at attention, afrying pan in one hand and the other over his heart.

“Same here, Captain,” echoed Tandy, with Sally at his side.

Behind him, Nikobo shouted, “Let’s go!” while Arko and Orpa

clapped their hands in approval next to her.

“Captain Salt,” spoke Sally. She stepped away from Tandy, and

stood to address both Captain Salt and Sheik Tazander. “This is the

farthest any of us have been from home. What would it say about us if

we turned away right now, when an entire continent awaits us? When

will we ever have this opportunity again? We’re all with you, if you’ll

have us.”

Sheik Tazander bowed deeply to the sea fairy, nodding in

agreement. “So, we go then.”



The next day, true to his word, Sheik Tazander returned to the

Crescent Moon from the port of Movasto. Najira set out that morning for

Om, accompanied by an army of soldiers, while Tazander boarded the

ship unaccompanied. “After all, if I cannot trust my ancestor, who can I

trust?” he asked when Tandy commented about the arrangements.

The revelation that the old pirate ship was thoroughly enchanted,

and worked by well-crafted magic was of great interest to the sheik, and

he enjoyed learning as much as he could in the little time it would take

to make it to their destination.

The Ot’Savom River wound northward into the southern region of

Ot’Sama. Tazander explained to them that the country was made up

mostly of unforgiving desert, but that there were lush jungle regions in

the south, where the city of Om sat, as well as on the northern coast,

around Jade Lake, and along the coastline. The creeping birds—the

hebtuos—and flying reptiles—the ouatos, were desert creatures, and if

they wished to find some trace of them, the vast Monshera Desert was

the only place where they would be able to do so. This sole habitat,

isolated and forlorn, was where extant members of both species had last

been documented. And this was a rare phenomenon to be sure. Tazander spent a good deal of time visiting with everyone on

board the pirate ship. Upon learning that there was indeed no crew, and

instead a motley band that included mer-folk and animals, he was

doubly pleased that he chose to accompany them to the river’s end.

“It won’t be the journey’s end, by far!” laughed Captain Salt. He

explained to the sheik that the Crescent Moon was capable of flight, and

that even a large expanse of dry land was no deterrent to their mission.

He was sure that specimens of hebtuos and ouatos would be found, and

that they would gain at least two of each. Sheik Tazander gave them his

blessing, and took his leave of them once they reached the outpost; but

not without some parting advice.



“I must humbly request, my exalted ancestor and his illustrious

friends, that you measure carefully the words you speak to my people.”

He glanced at Tandy, and amended his statement. “Our people. For

most, the story of King Tazander the First is a fairy tale, and his

disappearance the stuff of legends and bedtime stories. If the people

realized that you are still alive, and that the legends are true; think of

the mass exodus from this land, and how the Nonestic Continent would

be overrun. There are many people here, and unlike the great outside

world, we can easily sail to that place. It would not take a magical

miracle to get there.”

“So, for all intents and purposes, I’m just plain Tandy, cabin boy

on the Crescent Moon, one of the Royal Explorers of Oz.” Tandy

shrugged his shoulders in acceptance, and received hearty pats on the

back from his captain and crewmates.

“You are always welcome in my home, exalted ancestor. Tandy.”

Sheik Tazander stood beneath a palm tree, his back to the desert that

spread out northward. He was facing the south, where his wife awaited

him. A white camel stomped its hooves against the sand. It had already

been fitted with a saddle for the sheik, and the soldiers of his armystood off to the side, waiting for him to join them. “Please, come to visit

again. If not in my generation, then in the next.” Seeing that his request

made Tandy uneasy, he relinquished a secret to Tandy alone. He

grasped Tandy’s hand, and pulled him close, so that they stood face to

face. Pulling even closer, Tazander whispered into his namesake’s ear.

“My wife is with child, you know. Najira and I spoke. We wish him to

know his exalted ancestor, and perhaps visit the other lands in this

realm. What do you think? Will we be welcome in the Land of Oz? Tell no

one you encounter, for the news is mine alone to share. But know this:

his name, too, will be Tazander Tazah.” He pulled away, thought of

something, and pulled close again. “And if she is a girl, she will be



Najira, like her mother, who loves the name Truella, and would like it to

be her middle name. Najira Truella Tazah. It is beautiful, yes?”

The outpost was nothing more than several tents that had been

set up in the desert, within a few miles of the jungle that grew at the

river’s end. The transition from the lush green vegetation of the jungle

to the dry golden sand of the desert was abrupt. Taking the skiff from

the ship to the marshy bank of the river, Tandy, Samuel, Zipper, and

Bobo trudged over the muddy land, through a small forest of trees, then

found themselves suddenly in the blinding harshness of the desert.

“If you do indeed travel over the Monshera, you will find Jade Lake

northeast of here. There is a camp there, but it is quite small yet. We

wish to establish a settlement there, along the shores of Jade Lake. You

will find a few families there, so remember my words.” He pointed due

north. “There is an outpost immediately north of here, northwest of the

lake. It is unmanned, but there you will find urns of water and dried

meat. I plan to have a highway built, connecting the northern coast of

Ot’Sama to the south. A canal will extend the Ot’Savom, and we will be

a country united!” Tazander pointed westward, where they could see on

the horizon, faintly in the shimmering heat of the desert, a thin blueband. “The Dragon’s Spine. Those are the mountains that divide Tarara

between Ot’Sama and Ama. There was a time when we were at war with

each other. Now, there is intrigue and subterfuge; but for the most part,

we have peace. The Amas have no cities or settlements, so if you find

any, you will be the first.”

Tazander uncharacteristically hugged each of them, even the ork.

Bobo especially was uneasy with the gesture, and managed only to pat

their host on the back. “I hope we have established diplomatic ties,

then,” spoke Tazander to the prince, who only nodded in stunned

silence. When he came to Tandy, the sheik paused and gazed into his

namesake’s eyes with the same intensity and scrutiny as when they first

met. “This may come in handy, during your travels,” he said. He tucked



a scroll from his robes into the satchel that Tandy carried over his

shoulder. Then, grabbing his shoulders, Tazander kissed Tandy’s right

cheek then left cheek, hugged him tightly, and pulled away. “I have your

name,” he said, mysteriously. It gave Tandy hope, and he smiled.

Tazander mounted the camel with ease, and turned the white

beast to join his men. “Oh, one last thing!” he called over his shoulder.

“I have heard tales that there is an island on the far northern part of

Tarara. Cadger is the name. I hear that there are rocs there. Fare you all

well, and may the grace of Arpete' smile upon you and be with you on your

travels!”

“Rocks’re on just about every island!” called Captain Salt back to

the departing figure.

“I wonder if he meant rocs,” Tandy mused, fingering the scroll that

Tazander slipped him. “As in the giant bird?”

Captain Salt’s eyes lit up in wonder and excitement. “Ah then. I

suppose we know where we’ll be headin’ after we pick up some of them

creepy birds and flyin’ snakes, eh?”

CHAPTER FIVE: OF OFFERS MADE AND ASSURANCES GIVEN

Captain Salt, Bobo, Tandy and Zipper returned to the ship with thenews of yet another destination on Tarara and high hopes for the

journey. Tandy’s heart was heavy, for he was parting ways with his

great grand-nephew, or first cousin twice removed, or however it was

that the sheik was related to Tandy. Tazander called him his ancestor,

but Tandy never had children of his own. But the sheik was his family, of

that he was certain, and it weighed heavily on him to see him go. After

all, the thought occurred to Tandy, there is no one left from my

childhood. No one at all. He sighed heavily and turned his mind back to

the present.

They trekked through the marsh that led back to the river, and

were soon back aboard the Crescent Moon. Another night had fallen,

and they decided to spend the dark hours in the Ot’Savom, anchored at



the river’s end. Arko and Orpa opted to laze about in the river with

Nikobo. Roger and Zipper, fast becoming good friends, scouted about in

the marshes, but found only a few brightly colored birds—not the

crawling kind, to Captain Salt’s chagrin—and they were not much for

conversation. They did locate some trees that bore fruit that resembled

guavas. Zipper allowed Roger to knock several down and into his saucer-

like wings, which they proudly carried back to the ship and deposited in

a broad wooden bucket next to the piles of rope that the ork chose to

nest in. Seeing only Tandy and Sally on the stern of the ship, Roger

chose to give them some privacy, and flew up to the crow’s nest.

Tandy leaned heavily on the railing, staring downward at the

reflection of the moon and trees in the river’s calm waters. Behind him,

Sally stood with her hand gently resting on his back. In her other hand

she held Tandy’s notebook, with all his drawings and schematics.

“I know we just met him,” Tandy said wistfully as he continued to

stare downward. Nikobo’s silhouette wavered in the water, and her low

snores carried up to his ears. Arko and Orpa floated quietly nearby, their

tails entwined as they slept peacefully in the water. “I know he’s… I

mean, I don’t know how exactly we’re related, but…” His face wasdrawn with sadness, and he buried it in his hands.

Sally gazed admiringly at the drawing of the sheik that Tandy had

sketched in the notebook, with two palm trees, the howdah on the

camel’s back, and even all the detail of the sheik’s vestments. “Sheik

Tazander is a good man,” stated the sea fairy, closing the notebook and

leaning it against the bulwarks. Calling upon her years of wisdom was

fruitless, for never before had she needed to deal with such a

circumstance; so, she allowed her heart to guide her words. “He

represents everything you’ve lost. Your family—your aunts, and maybe

your parents, too—as well as your old friend, someone you respected.

You miss them, and somehow they’re all back now, in the sheik. Yet

when you look at Tazander, you can’t help but feel your loss all the



more. The pain becomes even more acute when he is near. It is a very

bittersweet comfort.”

Tandy nodded, but did not speak. His gut was tight with the

emptiness he was feeling, and his chest hurt as well. He picked up the

notebook and turned to the page where he had drawn Tazander’s

portrait. He gently ran his fingers over the paper, as if somehow the

actual person he had drawn was present, and not just depicted in ink on

paper.

“We’ll see him again. Now that you both know about each other,

we’ll visit him and Najira, and we’ll invite them to visit us. We’ll bring

them to Aquareine’s palace, and to the Emerald City, and so many other

places. Back home… well, back home…” She stumbled, not quite sure

where exactly Tandy felt at home, other than on the ship.

“That’s just it,” choked the one-time king, closing the notebook

and setting it down again. “I thought this place was my home. I… I didn’t

even have the name right. Ot’Sama. It just sounds so… so foreign. How

can this place be my home?”

“Home is what you make of it,” murmured Sally softly, leaning in

to him. “I believe this ship is your home, as are all your friends on boardit who sail with you.” She closed her eyes and laid her head gently on

Tandy’s strong back, and took in the scent of him. “I am your home,”

she whispered under her breath.

Tandy felt his heart thunder loudly in his chest and wondered if it

would burst. “Sally, I need…”

The sea fairy’s arms encircled the cabin boy’s torso as she pulled

him tightly to her. “We are blessed, you and I. I really did not

comprehend how much so until just now. Here we stand, we two, with

forever stretching out before of us, beckoning. We are alive and we

have each other.”

Sally opened her eyes and looked over at the pool that was

normally occupied by the hippopotamus and the mer-folk. “We can have



the tank to ourselves tonight,” spoke the sea fairy gently. “Or we could

go to your cabin. Either way, you don’t have to be alone tonight. You

don’t have to be alone ever again.”

Tandy turned around to face her and held her hands in his own. A

tear rolled down his cheek as he gazed into her eyes. “I’d like that,” he

replied, almost in a whisper. “I’d like that very much.”

Their lips met, soft and tentative; passion held back with barely

tethered restraint. Thoughts of death, of endings, were thrown to the

winds and forgotten, as the taste of tomorrow lingered there, breathless

upon their shared kiss.

CHAPTER SIX: OF THINGS MOST FOUL

The flight over the desert of Ot’Sama on board the Crescent Moon

was nothing short of spectacular. On the morning of the first day of their

desert expedition, Captain Salt sent Tandy and Ato to the hold to gather

as many empty barrels as they could find and fill them with the crystal

clear river water. Arko and Orpa, during the night, had discovered a

spring several yards downstream from where the ship weighed anchor,

which apparently fed the river. It was strong enough to have created asubterranean cave system, but the mer-folk reported that nothing of

interest lay down there except for several very nicely smooth rocks. It

was from there that they filled the barrels. Ato dropped a water

purification tablet into each barrel as they were hauled to the ship’s hold

and placed in suspended storage with all the melons, just in case.

“We’re on our own again,” noted Ato. The ship’s cook stood with

the captain at the wheel, looking northward to the hazy burning sands of

the great Monshera Desert.

“Aye,” agreed Samuel. “With a bigger crew, too. But we can

handle it! Never a ship’s been made that can match the Crescent

Moon!”



Tandy sat cross-legged on the deck, not far from where the

captain and cook stood. A thin board was stretched across his legs, and

he was drawing on a large sheet of paper.

“How’s it coming along?” asked Ato, striding over to see what

Tandy had been working on.

“I traced the outline from a map Captain Salt had,” explained

Tandy, showing Ato the map of Tarara that he was working on. It was,

for the most part, a huge blank area surrounded by water, with penciled

notes on the top left indicating that there may be an island somewhere

off the coast, and a note on the northeastern coast indicating that there

should be a lake there. The demarcation line of the mountain range was

already on the map, and he had labeled it as the Dragon’s Spine. The

Otsavom and Movasto rivers had been drawn in and labeled, with the

port and the outpost that they were departing also marked. “It’s big,”

observed Tandy, “almost as big as Nonestica.” He laughed, and looked

up at Ato. “I guess it was patriotic pride, right? I mean, I was always

telling people that Tarara was bigger than any continent in the Nonestic.

How would I know? Maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t. But it definitely is

big.” The desert winds snapped and popped in the ship’s sails at it flew

an even fifty feet above the burning sands. The ground was level as far

as the eye could see, and the sun’s reflection on the surface tended to

be blinding if they stared at it too long. Though Arko steadfastly

remained in the tank with Nikobo for most of the journey, Orpa and Sally

stared downward excitedly, searching for any signs of the hebtuos—the

creeping birds—or the ouatos—the flying reptiles. Both mermaids, as a

precaution, had ropes tied about their waists, which were secured to the

bulwarks.

Every so often, Orpa would find herself glancing upward into the

glaring firmament, hoping for a chance glimpse of an ouatos. After all,

she mused to herself, you could never be sure with a flying reptile. It



soon came to be a game of sorts with the two water sprites. Every time

some small shadow flickered on the ground below, each would jump and

think they had found something noteworthy. Sally had never laughed so

much in her life, and Orpa couldn’t help smiling at the fun of it. Spirits

and expectations both were high on the flying ship in those opening

days of the crew’s desert voyage. Yet no flying reptile or creeping bird

ever came into view.

From what little they could learn about them, the hebtuos were

flightless creatures much like a kiwi or a dodo. However, unlike those

birds, the hebtuos used their wings to propel themselves on the ground,

dragging as much as penguins used their wings to drag themselves

across ice. Ouatos apparently were very much like the extinct

pterodactyl or archaeopteryx—a residual dinosaur, perhaps. The only

dinosaur that the explorers had ever had the opportunity to question

was the living skeleton of a sauropod-like creature that walked on its

hind legs most of the time, but had the tendency to chase felines on all

fours. They had met the living relic on one of their journeys inland to

visit Ozma. Unfortunately, Captain Salt, Ato and Tandy did not have

much of an opportunity to learn a lot from it, since their reason for thevisit was to refill on various supplies and enchantments, then to be on

their way once more with their explorations.

One of the problems with flying overland—especially a desert—

was the water flow system that had been enchanted into the Crescent

Moon’s hull. Without the constant presence of ocean or river water, the

control of Nikobo’s tank had to be changed to manual, instead of

automatic. That meant that the water was filtered constantly, with the

result being that the water was also constantly evaporating, and

eventually the tank would empty. It was for that very reason, and to

provide potable drinking water as well, that they had filled several

barrels from the spring in the Ot’Savom River.



Hygiene was another concern when faced with the lack of

constant water around the ship. The bathroom showers were supplied

with ocean water which had the salt removed. Disposal of wastewater

was not a problem, however. It merely flushed out of the drains in the

hull and fell to the dry desert below, where it was always almost

instantly absorbed.

Thankfully, only two days’ flight brought them within sight of the

jungle that surrounded Jade Lake. From their vantage point upon the

ship, Captain Salt and the crew could first make out a strip of green to

the northeast of their position. The verdant hue was deeper and richer

directly east of their position, but judging by the topography, the most

accessible entrance to the lake was an area where the flora was thin,

and the faintest sparkle of water could be seen in the distance.

“That’s where we enter,” ordered Captain Salt, pointing toward

the reflection of sunlight. “If that lake’s as big as the sheik says, we can

set the ship down and replenish the water.” The captain calmly strode

over to where Tandy sat, and tapped his telescope on the map he was

drawing. “North west portion of the lake,” he indicated. It was toward

the eastern coast of the continent, in the Ot’Sama portion. A gust of wind caused Tandy to grasp the edges of the parchment to prevent it

from flying away. “Take good care of that, me boy. It’s worth more’n

gold to me now.”

Ato remained below deck in the kitchen, but the desert heat

prevented him from cooking anything. Instead, he merely sliced one of

the giant watermelons and set the wedges out on the captain’s table.

Slumping in a corner, the ship’s cook fanned himself with his hat, and

drank from a glass of water that Truella handed him.

“Hang in there, Ato. We’ll be at the lake, soon,” she assured him.

The princess could see that Ato was suffering in the high temperature.

Sweat ran down his face in rivulets, and his clothes were soaked. He was

breathing heavily, and clutching at his chest.



“Thank you, my dear,” he said, smiling faintly. His eyes drooped

as he tried his best to relax. “It’s an unusual feeling, this,” he mused.

“What is it?” Truella was truly concerned. Coming from Mo, a

magical fairyland, seeing someone else’s discomfort was somewhat new

to her, and a bit alarming.

“Suffering. Pain. Exhaustion. But never to this extreme.” Ato tried

to continue fanning himself, but found the effort too much, and dropped

his hand to his side. “We’ve dealt with exertion,” gasped the cook,

“but… this sensation… what is it? Pain? I must admit; this is somewhat

new to me.”

Sally entered the kitchen, and upon seeing Ato and Truella on the

floor, rushed over to them. “What’s the matter?” asked the sea fairy.

“Are you hurt?”

“It’s the heat,” explained Truella, who had grabbed a plate and

was fanning him with it. “We need to get him someplace cool.”

“The tank!” Sally grasped one of Ato’s arms and struggled to get

him standing. “Please, Ato. Get up. We’ll get you to the tank. You’ll feel

better there.”

With Ato between them, Sally and Truella were able to get him outof the kitchen and to the steps that led up to the deck. “Help!” called

Truella upward as Ato started to slowly climb. “Captain! Tandy! Help!”

Much to their surprise, it was Bobo who rushed forward from

behind them. No one had heard him below deck, and as the prince had

taken to spending a lot of time sulking in the depths of the ship, it was

no surprise that he was there. Without speaking, he pulled Ato’s right

arm over his shoulders, put his left behind Ato’s back, and hefted the

portly man up the stairs.

The four emerged into the brilliant sun, and though the ever-

growing green on the horizon was a welcome sight, Nikobo’s tank was

much more enticing.



Seeing his old friend being handled thus, Captain Salt instantly

pushed Bobo aside and took control, dragging Ato to the tank. Arko had

already opened the gate, allowing them both to surge into the water

with a splash.

“Goodness!” gasped Nikobo, making room for the captain and the

cook. The two had never before entered her tank. Their clothes were

soaked in no time, but Ato breathed a sigh of relief as Samuel lowered

him to sit on the bench along the side of the tank.

“Really, I’m all right now,” insisted Ato, holding up his hands to

push the others away. Arko leaned against his side, a cool arm around

the cook’s neck to make sure he was comfortable. Ato pulled away from

the merman’s arm and forcibly shoved Captain Salt out of the tank.

“That’s enough. Thank you. Really.” Uncharacteristically, Ato insisted on

turning everyone away, though he did thank Truella, Sally and Bobo for

helping him up the steps.

“The jungle’s comin’ up anyway,” grumped Captain Salt through

his wounded pride, as he stormed out of the tank and back to the wheel,

dripping water all the way. Strange though it seemed, King Ato had

somehow managed to hurt the good captain’s well-worn sensibilities,and Salt’s sour disposition showed it.

Yet that and all else was soon forgotten, as the lush greens of the

jungle surrounding Jade Lake slowly emerged from the harsh golden

sands of the desert. Small patches of grass extended out into the sands,

which merged with smaller shrubs and bushes, patches of ferns, and in

just a few yards tall palm trees and thick jungle vegetation.

As the Crescent Moon neared the lush, verdant region, they could

see tents and huts among the grasses, well camouflaged in shades of

green and olive. People began to emerge from them, as well as from the

jungle, to point and stare at the ship majestically flying through the air

towards their encampment.



“Ahoy there!” Captain Salt leaned over the railing nearest the

wheel and waved downward. The t’Samas—those who did not rush to

the jungle to hide—either tentatively raised hands to wave or huddled

together in fear. Several retrieved scimitars and staffs and stood ready

to meet what they thought might be an oncoming assault.

The camp was situated in an area of grassland—a field or clearing

—that extended inward from the desert into the jungle. Among the tents

and huts were corrals in which were kept several heads of white cattle,

while men riding white horses drove them to shelter as best they could.

Four huge white elephants roamed toward the rear of the clearing,

beyond which Captain Salt could make out the waters of Jade Lake. The

elephants trumpeted in fear as the pirate ship soared over them, and

the t’Samas gazed in wonder as the ship steadily progressed toward the

lake, then landed with a tremendous splash into its waters.

Before they parted with Sheik Tazander, the ruler of Ot’Sama had

presented Tandy with a scroll sealed with his official emblem. During the

flight over the sands, Tandy had unrolled it and read it, sharing it with

the Captain and the crew. It was a statement from Tazander to any of

the t’Sama people that the Crescent Moon and its passengers were tobe allowed free travel across the country unmolested, and called upon

the people to lend aid to the Captain and his crew if they should require

it. It was signed with the sheik’s special blessing, that these visitors

were under his protection, and that he would consider treason any

actions against them.

A boat with several well-armed men had rowed out into the lake to

confront the passengers of the pirate ship, and it was Tazander’s scroll

that ameliorated any hostilities and nervousness on behalf of the

t’Samas.

Tandy, Truella, Sally, Bobo and Captain Salt chose to row the skiff

to shore in order to meet with the locals. Captain Salt had sent Roger

and Zipper on a scouting mission to try to locate any ouatos or hebtuos.



Arko and Nikobo explored Jade Lake, while Orpa remained on board the

ship with Ato, who was recovering nicely in the tank.

Upon learning of the travelers and Tazander’s protectorate, the

chieftain of the small settlement, a fellow named Plotar, personally met

with the four visitors as they waited on the shores of Jade Lake. There

was a great deal of hand-shaking and bowing, introductions, and some

explanations—especially about how a ship could fly over the desert—as

they walked toward the chieftain’s hut.

“Tell me, Plotar,” began Captain Salt as they were escorted

through the camp. Several t’Samas had run for cover upon their arrival,

but were now peeking out from tent flaps or from around trees. Two

children tried to run up to the strange procession, but were reined back

by their mother. The captain smiled and waved at them, and both

children tentatively waved back, their large brown eyes full of happy

mischief and curiosity. “Er, tell me… can I assume that you’ve come

across any ouatos or hebtuos out this way? The good Sheik informed us

that we may encounter some during our travels. I should like to obtain

specimens of each, to take back to my home country.”

“Oh! We have the creeping bird and the flying reptiles,” assuredPlotar, smiling and nodding. “At least, we have seen ouatos about. The

hebtuos have been hard to come by lately.” Plotar arrived at his hut,

and opened the door to allow his guests to enter. “Where is your home,

exactly? What will you do with the specimens—if you obtain any?”

Plotar was garbed in bright white clothes, with a blue and gold

striped sash about his waist. His head covering was a matching blue and

gold stripe pattern, with a smaller white sash tying it around his head.

He seemed to be in his forties, or perhaps older, and obviously not quite

as youthful or fit as the young Sheik of Om. A rich black beard adorned

his chin, tapering to a point. It was joined by a finely groomed mustache

that curled downward from his upper lip. His eyes were deep brown,

almost black, but twinkled merrily. In contrast, his hut was a drab shade



of beige, the same color as the ground they walked upon. It was made of

boards that had obviously been brought from Om, for they were straight

and clean—unlike the roughshod huts made from sticks and mud that

surrounded it.

“I will present them to my queen, Oz—” Captain Salt was

interrupted by Tandy’s foot as he kicked him subtly in the back of the

leg. Realizing that he was about to say too much, Samuel thought

quickly. “Er, o’Tsama-lander,” he hastily corrected. “She takes great

care of animals of various species, and we hope to study their

uniqueness and learn from them.”

Plotar seemed to think about the captain’s answer as he

welcomed them into his hut. It was a simple affair—one main room with

a table, with a smaller bedroom off to one side, and a kitchen off to

another. Apparently a bathroom might well be located outside, but that

was not something the visitors cared to consider.

“You are interested in species that are new to you, yes?” he asked

as he sat down on a chair by the table. There were six other chairs

tightly crowded around it. Tandy considered that this man, being a

chieftain of this small encampment, might have need to hold council,and this is likely where it would happen. They all sat with him, carefully

shoving some of the chairs aside to make sitting more comfortable.

Plotar clapped his hands and spoke some words that sounded harsh and

demanding. Instantly, a woman dressed in bright colors and with a veil

over her face came into the room from the kitchen, bearing a tray with a

pitcher and seven mugs.

“Thank you, my dear!” said their host as she set the mugs out in

front of each of them. She poured a drink from the pitcher in each, and

then sat down at the table with the seventh mug. Plotar waved his

hands at the woman, who smiled demurely and lowered her gaze. “This

is my lovely wife—my third wife—Inanna! Is she not the picture of



beauty and obedience? Inanna, you may speak with these esteemed

visitors. They are friends of our beloved Sheik!”

Truella bristled at the speech, realizing that Plotar—though

allowing his wife some liberties—still held onto the antiquated customs

that she had learned about. Bobo appeared to be bored, almost

dropping off to sleep as he sat wordlessly. Tandy, who likewise had not

spoken a single word the entire time, looked taken aback, and

exchanged an offended glance with the princess of Mo.

“My grandmother has found a creature you might want to see,”

spoke the woman. She kept her eyes lowered, and did not touch her

drink, though Plotar insisted that they all try the drink. It was a delicious

sherbet made from coconut milk and what were probably crushed

strawberries.

“Drink your sherbet, my dear!” insisted Plotar, though to the

guests’ ears it sounded somewhat like an order.

Inanna gingerly took a sip, set her cup down, then continued. “She

has captured it, and though we insist that she must get rid of the vile

thing, she finds some strange entertainment from it.”

“Inanna’s grandmother lives in a hut part-way into the jungle tothe south of the camp,” explained Plotar. He finished his drink, and

poured himself another. It was ice cold, and the metal pitcher—it was

perhaps copper or some other ore, Tandy presumed—frosted on a level

with the beverage inside. Without seeing any sort of technology, he

deduced that there was either magic involved, or some natural way to

keep things cold that they knew nothing of. “She is a physician, a

healer.”

“A sawbones!” interjected Captain Salt, laughing. The others

looked at him curiously, but Tandy told them that a sawbones was

another name for a physician, at least aboard a pirate ship.



Truella placed her hand on Inanna’s, startling the woman, who

withdrew it and folded her hands in her lap. The princess of Mo asked,

“Would you take us to meet her?”

“She will take you now!” insisted Plotar, rising from his chair. “And

afterward you will all come back here for a feast in honor of your visit!”

“There’s no need for that,” Tandy insisted, shaking his head. He

saw that there were limited resources available to the t’Samas of this

camp, and realized that a feast prepared in their honor would seriously

cut into what stores they had saved.

“Do you like watermelon?” asked Truella hopefully. She shrugged

Bobo off of her shoulder. The prince of Boboland was steadily leaning

sideways on his chair as he fell asleep on her. Her action woke him, and

he sniffled and blinked in surprise.

“Of course I do!” Bobo replied, thinking the question was directed

at him.

Truella shushed him, and looked at Captain Salt. “Captain,” she

began, “what do you think?”

The old pirate understood Truella’s intention, and realized that

perhaps a trade might be in order. “Aha! My dear princess, you are abrilliant one!” Captain Salt rose from his chair with the others, and laid

his arm around Plotar’s shoulders. “Watermelon, as the name implies, is

one of the juiciest, most delicious fruits ye’ll ever get a chance ta taste!”

Samuel ordered Tandy to return to the ship and bring back five

large melons, which would be more than enough to share at least one

wedge with each person in the settlement… if they cut the wedges right.

The captain counted approximately twenty people in total, though there

were possibly more in the jungle or hiding in huts. If each watermelon

were cut into eight huge wedges, or sixteen large wedges—easily big

enough for a meal—each person would potentially get two, three, or four

wedges.



“Cut up two of ’em first,” he directed Tandy. “Half, then half, then

half again and again. Get about sixteen pieces, an’ make sure t’pass

’em around to everyone. Look here,” he said, turning to Plotar. “Ye get a

cart my boy here can borrow? An’ perhaps a fellow to go with him? It’ll

be worth it. Trust me.”

Plotar called out to one of the men milling about outside his hut.

The t’Samas were staring at the visitors curiously. The man responded

in t’Saman, and Plotar pointed to Tandy. The man nodded, smiled, and

ran behind a hut. He emerged momentarily with a hand-cart, which he

trundled behind Tandy as the cabin boy led the way back to the ship.

Tandy and the t’Sama man went off on their errand, leaving

Plotar and Inanna to lead the others though the camp to the jungle

bordering its southern portion. From there they could see a hut halfway

obscured in the shadows of the surrounding jungle flora. Though it did

not look like much at first, the scanty shelter seemed to give off an eerie

affect, making the sea fairy feel very ill at ease. Sally, by virtue of being

a magical being, felt it much more keenly than the rest of her party. Her

discomfort was heightened by a sudden rush of queasiness. It was then

Sally very much regretted Tandy’s absence.“Inanna’s grandmother, Ma’Kra, lives there. She is a strange one,”

commented Plotar, tapping his head and winking at the three visitors,

“but she knows her herbs and plants.” He bowed low, and turned to

depart. “Inanna will accompany you. I have the preparations for a feast

to attend to!” Sally marveled at how the chieftain, and her friends as

well, seemed unaware of the uneasiness she could feel so intensely.

Smiling demurely at Bobo, Truella, Sally, and Captain Salt, the

t’Sama woman nervously strode to the hut’s door, which she knocked

softly on. Without waiting for a response, she opened it and stepped

inside, calling out, “Grandmother. We have visitors.”

The woman inside the hut was bent over a table, upon which were

situated several bowls and jars. A parchment was laid flat between them



and she was writing on it with a feather quill pen. Ma’Kra did not bother

to look up, and croaked, “What ails you? Be quick. I am working.”

The demure wife of Plotar was a different person in the presence

of her grandmother. She walked around the table to the older woman

and placed her hands on her shoulders, pulling her up to see the guests.

“These people have come from far away to visit our land,” she

explained, joining Ma’Kra to look upon the four visitors. “Grandmother,

these are…” She was not sure of their names, so she held out a

beckoning hand to them.

“I am prince Bobo, of Boboland,” announced Bobo, striding

forward and bowing to the older woman.

“You smell like goat,” muttered the old crone as she wrinkled her

nose, which startled everyone, and caused Bobo’s face to redden.

“Perhaps it is because you once were one?”

Captain Salt, recalling Sheik Tazander’s admonition to withhold

certain information from the t’Samas, also could not resist temptation,

and before he could exert any self-control, had placed a good swift kick

in Bobo’s rear. The prince stumbled forward, grasping onto the table and

a chair for support. He fell, pulling the chair with him, and upsettingInanna and Ma’Kra.

“Captain Salt, I am,” said Samuel, grinning as he stepped over the

sprawling prince. He waved an arm to the princess and the sea fairy,

and added, “And this be Truella and Chrysalissium. Pay no mind to the

boy’s babbling. He likes ta pretend he’s a prince. He hates sailin’ so, and

he smells like a goat because he’s been tendin’ th’animals.”

The older woman narrowed her eyes and looked at the indignant

Bobo, sputtering and fuming as he hastily struggled to stand back up.

She could smell the reek of Captain Salt’s lie even more so than the

stench of goats. “Boboland… did you say?”



“How dare you! I’ll have you know that I—” Bobo’s face, bright

red, was twisted in rage, but Truella stepped forward and took his hands

in hers.

“It’s all right, Bobo, dear,” she said, looking steadily in his eyes

and tightening her hands upon his. “You’ll make captain, one day, and

you’ll have your own ship. Let’s just let Captain Salt handle things for

now, okay ?”

Still fuming and breathing heavily, Bobo gritted his teeth. He

glared at Captain Salt, glanced at Truella, and with a flounce turned to

face Inanna and Ma’Kra. “My apologies, ladies,” he hissed through

gritted teeth. “I’ll just have a seat and let the Captain have his way.”

Bobo sat down angrily in the chair he had righted, and crossed his arms

over his chest. “I’ll think of better ways to tend the animals while you’re

talking.”

Captain Salt took a deep breath, and returned his attention to

Ma’Kra. “Plotar informs us that you know where we might find the

hebutos and oratoes.”

“Hebtuos,” corrected Ma’Kra, still scrutinizing her guests, “and

ouatos. The hebtuos are birds that crawl on the land, and the ouatos arelizards that fly in the air. But they are not so different from each other.”

Folding her gnarled hands in front of her, Ma’Kra leaned forward on the

table. “They are very similar, in fact.” Still leaning on her elbows, she

pointed a finger toward another part of the room they were all in.

The hut was dark, but windows on all four sides of it allowed some

of the light in that filtered through the jungle greenery. Against the far

wall were several items of interest, including mounted skeletons. The

creatures were approximately two feet in height from the base to the

top of the shoulder-blades, perhaps somewhat taller if their elongated

necks were craned upward.

“Good heavens!” gasped Truella, placing a hand to her mouth.

“What on earth…” began Captain Salt.



“Bah!” bleated Bobo in disgust, turning his gaze away.

The three mounted skeletons that were set upon a counter top

were all facing the same direction. They looked very much like bird

skeletons, but were bigger and bulkier. One of them was distinctly

reptilian, and lay close to the ground, with four short legs and a long tail.

There was a horny protrusion on its snout, which resembled a stunted

horn. The second skeleton was similar, though the legs were longer in

front, with the digits forming extended arcs that looked like bat-wings,

and lacking the snout horn. The third was very much like the second,

only the forelimbs were bulkier, and though its digits were elongated,

they did not look big enough to carry such a creature in flight. Its snout

resembled more of a beak.

Ma’Kra pointed to the first one. “That is a kuray,” she said, and

followed with the others. “That is an ouatos, and that is a hebtuos. The

kuray is a flightless reptile. The ouatos is a flighted reptile, and the

hebtuos is the flightless bird, but it more closely resembles a reptile… at

least, from the inside.”

“Why are they not moving?” asked Truella in a whisper. “Are they

enchanted?”Ma’Kra and Inanna both looked incredulously at the three

outsiders. “Are you stupid?” demanded the older woman, wrinkling her

upper lip in disgust. “They’re dead!”

“Dead?” echoed Bobo in a small voice. He clutched at his throat

with both hands, as if he were choking. “As in… no longer… living?”

“Where exactly did you say you were from?” demanded the old

crone insistently. Through narrowed eyes she scrutinized the four

visitors as if she could learn more about them by the way they dressed.

Her aged eyes opened sharply with awareness as they lingered on

Sally’s pallid face. A wry smile, assured and self-satisfied, played across

her ancient features as her gaze lingered on the sea fairy.



Ignoring her question, Captain Salt, his face ashen, nervously

asked, “Y-you said that these, er, resembled a reptile from the—the

inside?” He pointed a trembling finger at the skeletons. “And these are

what they look like… from the inside?” Though he had seen death and

dismemberment in his early years at sea as a pirate, living in Lurline’s

enchantment for nearly a century had erased some things from his

memory.

“Terrybubble!” gurgled Bobo, his face turning a distinct shade of

green in the dim light as realization grasped him in its cold hand. The

looming shape of an animated dinosaur skeleton played vividly across

his mind. “T-terrible.”

Ma’Kra was growing more and more suspicious of the visitors and

their naïveté, but also seemed to enjoy having an unspoiled audience,

so she continued. “Indeed, this is how they look from the inside, after

they’ve been killed. Yes, they’re dead. Those concepts are quite

uncomfortable for you, aren’t they?” She snickered, grinning with impish

delight. “Perhaps you would like to see what they look like with their

skins on?”

Though Bobo, Truella, and especially Sally were nauseated andwanted nothing to do with the endeavor, Captain Salt nodded, almost

hypnotically.

“If it’s all the same to you, Captain,” murmured Truella, “we’d like

to excuse ourselves. Madame Ma’Kra, Inanna, th-thank you for your,

er…” The princess faltered, her uneasiness hampering her usual tact

and diplomacy. She managed to find the right words, and continued.

“Thank you for your hospitality. We’ll be attending to matters on the

ship, or, rather, the banquet.” She, Bobo, and Sally had backed together

to the door of the hut as she spoke, and had pushed the door open.

“Yes, the b-banquet. You’ll be sure to come, won’t you? There’ll be…

um… waterm-melon.”



“Wait a moment,” Ma’Kra spoke. “You must stay for I am not

quite done with you yet.”

Bobo and Truella stood motionless with blank expressions, staring

at the old woman. Sally had leaned herself against the frame of the

door’s threshold, trying her best to keep her balance. “She means me,”

Sally said weakly, making room for the others to pass. “Go ahead. We’ll

be fine.”

As Bobo and Truella exited, Inanna nodded politely and assured

them that they would not be late. “This will not take much longer, will it,

Grandmother?”

“Oh, no… no indeed. We’re nearly done for the most part.” The

old woman shuffled to another part of the room where a large trunk

squatted ominously on the floor, covered with a blanket, underneath a

board on which several heavy books were stacked. “Here, Captain Salt,

help me with these books. What you want is inside.”

Upon clearing off the top of the trunk and opening it, Captain Salt

and Ma’Kra were greeted by a vile whiff of putridity that wafted up from

within the trunk.

“Goodness, woman!” uttered Captain Salt, reeling away from thetrunk. “What is this? Your toilet? Pfaugh!” He covered his nose and

mouth with a kerchief from his pocket, gagging. Sally leaned her head

out the doorway and retched violently.

“Look,” ordered the old crone with no hint of satisfaction. She

pointed her gnarled finger down into the depths of the trunk where a

large glass cube rested within. The sides of the cube were thick glass,

with no seams, and there was a hole in the top. “I made that container

myself,” she gloated proudly, oblivious to the foul stench. “It was the

only way to hold it.”

“Hold what?” croaked Captain Salt, his revulsion getting the better

of him. “Your rotting offal?”



Ma’Kra narrowed her eyes seemingly insulted, staring for a

moment at Captain Salt, then down at the contents of the trunk. “It is a

kuray,” explained the old t’Sama woman, indicating the filthy, wretched

looking beast that lay motionless at the bottom of the cube. She

retrieved a fetid, greasy bag that was inside the trunk next to the glass

cube and emptied it into the top, through the hole. The contents fell with

wet thuds to the bottom, which appeared to have woken the kuray. It

sniffed at the lumps, and then began to devour them in a sickening

frenzy. “These are vile creatures, and only serve to make lives

miserable.” She winked at Captain Salt, pointing to the lumps that it was

eating. “Excrement. That is its main diet—other animals’ waste. And

other animals, too, for that matter. Stay well clear of it, for if it attaches

to you, you will suffer. It is as worthless alive and it is dead. One cannot

eat it, and it serves no purpose whatsoever. You might think that though

it eats other animals’ dung and waste, it would be clean. But it is not.

The secretion it creates is ten times worse!” Ma’Kra enjoyed seeing the

look of pure revulsion on Captain Salt’s green-tinted face. “We are trying

to eradicate the species, for it only causes harm and disease. Please,

you are welcome to kill as many as you see.” Though Captain Salt nearly vomited in the few minutes they

regarded the foul creature, he was able to contain a modicum of

composure and continue listening. Sally remained on her knees at the

hut’s door, shivering helplessly.

“The kuray is why you will not find many hebtuos in the land,” the

old woman explained. “They have hunted the crawling birds to near

extinction. That skeleton was not from a live capture. I found it having

just been killed by a kuray... this very one, actually.” She wiped her

hands on a rag from her pocket, and Captain Salt realized that the mess

contained within the small sack had oozed out of the cloth somewhat.

“Please, madam,” he gasped, “tell me that you will wash your

hands before you join the banquet.” He was still staring at the kuray



with a mixture of fascination and revulsion. “If—that is, if —I intend to

take a specimen of this creature, what more can you tell me of it?

You’ve already told me what it eats...” The old pirate gagged again. “But

what does it do? Does it dance? Play? Sing? What does it need for a

habitat?”

“You really are not from these parts at all, are you?” demanded

the old crone, clenching her hands into fists and holding them at her

sides. “I will be watching you. I am beginning to suspect just where it is

you come from.” She gazed back down at the kuray as it finished

consuming the excrement, then began making its own. “Watch,” she

instructed, tapping the glass above the creature. “Though it creates

more excrement than it consumes, when it eats its own, the quantity will

slowly dwindle until it is completely used up.”

Samuel Salt, in all his many decades of life, had never seen

anything more disgusting and repulsive. “Why are you keeping it?” he

managed to utter in a strangled whisper.

“I study them, too,” she cooed proudly. “You are not the only

seeker of wisdom. There is much to be learned by nature; though, I do

not believe that this is a natural creature. I believe it was created…whether by natural selection, science, or magic, I cannot tell you. If it

was not created, then it was introduced to this land. Their infestation

started within the last twenty years, and they have slowly spread across

all of Ot’Sama. Most people report them coming from over the Dragon’s

Spine Mountains, far out into the desert. Ah, there… look!”

The kuray was shivering as if it were cold, though the hut was

quite warm. Captain Salt and Ma’Kra could see the creature’s scaly skin

began to glisten, then run as brown ooze permeated the membrane,

coating it in a slick layer of brown slime. “That is one of their natural

defense mechanisms,” informed the old woman gleefully. “You cannot

easily grab one. They slip from your fingers, leaving a filthy film behind



that is hard to wash off. It took nearly a week for me to clean my hands

when I caught this one.”

“Does it speak? Is it intelligent?”

“Again with your silly questions. One might think you are from that

land of the old fairy tales… what was it? Oz?” She shook her head, as if

dismissing a silly idea, but the way she looked at the old pirate seemed

to suggest otherwise. Captain Salt realized that the old woman knew

more than she was letting on. “Yes, it speaks, but if it talks, it only says

vile but inane things. And it doesn't seem to understand what people

say to it. Whatever intelligence it has will be used only to hurt you. Trust

me. You do not want that thing. This is one specimen you most

assuredly should leave well enough alone.”

“Why do you want it? You are keeping it for some reason. Don’t

tell me it’s just to study it.” The old pirate was torn between his desire to

have the creature, and the desire to flee the hut.

Inanna, who had remained silent for a good while, coughed and

moved to the door and knelt beside Sally, trying to comfort her. “I hear

people gathering in the camp. The banquet is starting. We should go.

Captain Salt, I trust you have learned something from this visit.Grandmother, thank you for entertaining the visitors. My husband will

want to know what is taking so long.” She reached for Captain Salt,

ushering him outside. “Come. Let us go to the banquet.”

“Grandchild, leave us. I have a few words I need to speak to this

pirate and the…girl. I will make sure they are not too long behind you.”

Ma’Kra pointed at the door dismissively, as Inanna got back up to her

feet. “Do not tarry too long, Grandmother,” Inanna said firmly. “My

husband will not tolerate much more of your foolishness.”

Ma’Kra smiled and shrugged her boney shoulders as she slammed

closed the lid of the trunk. “Never mind all that,” she said more or less

to herself. She then went to a small table close to the door, and picked

up a wooden bowl filled with a clear liquid. She added some crushed



herbs and berries from a stone mortar to the mixture and handed it to

Sally. “Here, child of the water. Drink this.” Sally looked at the old

woman with surprise, but took the bowl and drank deeply. Within

moments she was feeling more and more like her old self.

“It was the kuray that sickened you so, even before you set foot in

my house.”

“But how did you know…what do you think I am?” Sally was still

weak and simply did not know what to say or do.

“Do not fret, child, I am not as foolish as some might think.”

Ma’Kra smiled at Sally as she stroked the sea fairy’s hair. “Your

presence, though very stirring to me as a magic worker, also confirms

my greatest fears. For the kuray to have this kind of affect on you,

preternatural creature that you are, it has to be tied to some

unfathomably dark bewitchment. This does not bode well.”

Samuel Salt shook his head from the daze he was in, and though

he still felt a strong desire to open the trunk once more and crush the

foul creature therein, he also felt revulsion for it, and almost a small

amount of pity. Dizzily, he walked passed Sally and Ma’Kra, and out the

door. In the doorframe, he turned and looked at the old womanquestioningly. “What do you mean?” His own voice sounded as if it

came from far away, from somewhere in a nightmare.

“I have long – sensed that something dark, something fearsome

lurked out there, in the barren regions of the Monshera Desert. It is a

vague thing, malignant like a cancerous tumor, seeping its rot slowly yet

thoroughly into this land. I have no doubt whatsoever that the

abomination in that trunk owes its existence to that same enigmatic and

sinister power.

“These matters are of a most delicate nature, dear Captain,”

continued the old seeress. “That is why I waited for the others to depart

before I shared this knowledge with you. Do you understand?” Captain

Salt looked at the old woman and shook his head slowly.



“Just as you must remain elusive with certain things when it

comes to my people, so must I. Be careful where you tread, Captain Salt,

for the viper’s sting is as swift as it is deadly.”

All the good captain could think to do or say was to thank Ma’Kra

for sharing her knowledge. His head was still spinning, the obscene

stench of the kuray burning in his nostrils and on his tongue. Ma’Kra

looked at him sympathetically.

“What will you do if you find one?” asked the old crone. “Will you

kill it? You should kill it.”

Captain Salt shook his head. “I don’t know, madam. It is not in my

nature, not anymore, to kill anything. I have foresworn such deplorable

acts.” He turned to Sally, bowed slightly, and begged her pardon while

he stepped into the bushes to vomit.

As he was emptying his guts of anything still left, he heard Ma’Kra

call out to him, “They weren’t always this way, you should know. The

kurays, I mean.”

Ma’Kra let her words hang in the air without further elaboration.

As the good captain struggled in the underbrush to regain his

composure, the old woman returned her attention to Chrysalissium. She

smiled tenderly at the sea fairy, lost in her wonder at meeting such a remarkable creature.

Sally smiled back at the old woman and handed her the wooden bowl, drained of its

concoction. Ma’Kra took the bowl in hand and said, “I am the seventh daughter of a

seventh daughter. I come from a long line of soothsayers, of magic workers. I believe you

know of what I speak?”

“Yes, old mother. I understand.”

The seeress took the bowl and swirled it in a circular motion with her knotty hand.

The dregs left in the container from the residual herbs eddied a bit then settled once more.

Ma’Kra looked intently at the bowl’s contents, most especially at the telltale pattern left

there. She sighed heavily and placed her free hand over the top of the bowl.

“You are skilled in tasseography, old mother?” Sally tried hard to read Ma’Kra’s

puzzled expression.



“Yes, sea daughter…among other things.” Ma’Kra studied Sally’s face, lost for a

moment in the undeniable fact that a mermaid knelt right there in front of her. But why be

wonderstruck, the old woman reasoned to herself, for hadn’t she known these things were

so ever since she first began to practice the craft of her foremothers? “I do not want you to

leave me. I wish you would stay for so many reasons…but I realize you cannot.”

“I must beg your pardon, old mother. I don’t understand…” Sally took the old

woman’s hand and held it tightly in her own.

“I can see things…in others…in their farr ...their auras. That is how I could tell you

were not a mere human girl. What’s more, I can see the strands that reach out from such

auras and how they are tethered to the workings of the future…of fate.”

Sally looked at Ma’Kra in anticipating silence. Ma’Kra smiled and felt a stray tear

sting at her eye. “I cannot be absolutely sure. I can only see certain broad strokes on the

canvas of your life. That is why I also read the loose leaves of the herbs from your drink; to

get a bit clearer picture. It is hazy to me, but still tells…much.”

“Please,” Sally said as she held the old woman’s hand even more tightly. “What

have seen? What do you know?”

“You are about to know the most profound time of your long life. There are

moments of sublime joy…of far-reaching bliss and love. Yet...I…cannot be sure. The dark

power…out in the sands…it has tainted the taste of what I see.”

“Yes, old mother…”

“You will return home to your element, to the sea; but it is darksome, troubled

waters in which all is murky. Destiny is extending its reach… grasping …in a place where

tears fall ceaselessly from a dire and dreary sky…and then…”

Ma’Kra hesitated, not knowing how to say…how to express her troubled vision.

She took Sally’s trembling hand and held it to her frail chest, over her delicately beating

heart. “And then, fairest undine…all goes black and cold.”

CHAPTER SEVEN: OF THINGS LEFT UNSPOKEN

The banquet was a treat for all the t’Samas, especially Plotar and

Inanna, though Ma’Kra’s presence, for some mysterious reason, was

lacking. None of the t’Sama people had tried watermelon before. Indeed,

they had never seen nor heard of such a wondrous fruit. The few melons



that Tandy had retrieved were more than enough to share among the

people, and they even left two of them uncut with Plotar to serve up

later.

“He will probably keep those for himself, and if he shares them

with anyone, it will probably only be with his wife.” Bobo was disgusted

with what he had seen in Ma’Kra’s hut, even though it was not nearly as

bad as what Captain Salt had witnessed. Neither he nor Truella chose to

partake of the melon, and Captain Salt had gone back to the ship on his

own, leaving the three there to visit with the people of the encampment.

Sally, choosing not to dine with the others as well, wandered off to

the cool waters of Jade Lake. When she was well beneath the surface of

the rippling water, far away from prying eyes, Sally once more assumed

her true shape. The sea fairy closed her eyes and sank lithely to the

lakebed, the divinations of Ma’Kra incessantly echoing through her head.

She denied herself the comfort of Tandy’s presence, at least for the

moment. She did not understand what she had been told and this was

troubling her. She struggled to find the words to express herself to

Tandy, but they would not come.

Tandy, who had ate his fair share of melon himself, showed thet’Samas that they needed to keep the black seeds and dry them out,

then plant them along the shores of Jade Lake. He had no idea how long

it would take for the plants to mature enough to produce fruit—

especially growing on trees instead of the traditional ground vine variety

—but at least they would… eventually. There were date palms and

coconut palms in the area, as well as some other fruit bearing trees, so

he knew that the people would understand and be patient. Perhaps, in

time, the t’Samas of Jade Lake would have as many arboreal

watermelons as Pirate Island.

The aforementioned produce—coconuts, dates, mangos, papayas,

dragonfruit, and cashews—were given to the outsiders with the best

wishes of Plotar and his people. Eventually, in the late hours of the



night, when several carts of the food were delivered to the ship and

stored in the hold, Captain Salt, Truella, Bobo, and Tandy retired to their

cabins for the night. Sally made her way back to her own cabin in the

early hours of the morning, being very careful not to rouse anyone for

fear of having to explain herself.

Ato, having recovered from his heat exhaustion earlier, supervised

the loading and storage of the new provisions. While the five were

visiting with the t’Samas, he, Zipper, Roger, Arko, Orpa and Nikobo were

able to load several more barrels of water into the Crescent Moon’s hold,

dropping water purification tablets into each one. Thankfully, he had

been given a huge supply of the tablets, and though they had been

using them for years, they were no closer to running out than when they

first got them from Professor Wogglebug. Roger and Zipper had located

additional fruit and nut trees, and were able to harvest bushels full of

them. Ato, ever considerate of others, insisted that the birds pick as far

away from the t’Sama encampment as possible, so as to not cut into the

people’s supplies too much.

“All these exotic fruits and nuts!” he exulted, gazing in loving

approval at the now-full hold of the ship. He enjoyed seeing howSorceress Maetta’s enchantment held everything in suspended

animation, much like gelatin. “That’s it!” he cried, startling Tandy,

Zipper and Roger. “I’ll make Turkish Delight!”

Having slept a good part of the afternoon and evening in the tank

on deck, Ato was wound up with enough energy to stay up late into the

night, well after all the others had gone to sleep. He even helped haul

Nikobo up on deck after her sojourn in the marshes of the lake, though it

was Zipper who surprised everyone by doing most of the heavy work.

Consulting his cookbooks, Ato found many recipes for Turkish

Delight, and combined several to get just the right mix, adjusting it as

he went along. He had to be careful about being quiet, for although the

sleeping quarters below deck were separated from the kitchen by a



mess hall, in the stillness of nighttime even the slightest sounds

traveled. Ato stayed up until almost dawn making the Turkish Delight, as

well as preparing a batch of coconut pancakes, fresh juice from the

mangos, guavas, oranges and pineapples he found in the hold, and the

last of the scrambled eggplant. He served himself a plate first, set out

the plates for the others, and was about to set out the platters of

pancakes and eggs when Sally, who had been up all night as well, came

into the kitchen to see if he needed any help.

“Ah, yes my dear,” Ato spoke around a yawn. “Please go ahead

and set out the silverware and the cups. There’s fresh juice in the

pitchers in the icebox. I’m going to bed.” And with that, Ato spent the

rest of the next day sleeping while the crew of the Crescent Moon made

ready to set out for the remote t’Saman outpost halfway between the

Dragon’s Spine Mountains and Jade Lake.

Captain Salt and the crew bade farewell to Plotar and Inanna, as

well as the rest of the settlers, hauled anchor, and were soon sailing

over the waving arms of the t’Samas. Even old Ma’Kra was there to see

them off, though she kept herself hidden in the shade of the evergreen

growth of the jungle. Her eyes drank in the sight of the flying pirate ship,gratified she was able to bear witness to such wondrous magic. “Arpete'

be with you, sea daughter,” she whispered then turned away, regretting she could do no

more for the sea fairy.

They had started their journey rather early, heading in a roughly

western direction. Plotar had told them to keep due northwest, but

Captain Salt was determined to track down the elusive hebtuos and

ouatos, so he calculated that they could still reach the outpost if they

turned north after half a day’s travel. There was no way to determine

how long it would take to reach the outpost by air, but Plotar informed

them that caravanning by camel would reach the outpost in three days’

time, while traveling by elephant would take four to five days. Surely



flight in the swift pirate ship would easily take a mere fraction of that

time.

“We’re chasing across an entire continent,” muttered a

disgruntled Bobo as he leaned on a bulwark overlooking the desert.

Truella was next to him, for the two had, somehow, become constant

companions during the first portion of their journey. “And for what,

might I ask? Flying reptiles and creeping birds!” He pulled a diamond-

studded cufflink from his sleeve and tossed it downward, watching the

glistening stones disappear from view as they fell to the desert.

Truella gazed downward at the swiftly disappearing cufflink and

sighed. Neither of them had expected a flight across the desert

searching for elusive species. Though both found the expedition

pointless, it was for different reasons. Truella objected to capturing

anything against its will, while Bobo, hating the inconvenience placed on

him, saw no point in capturing them in the first place.

“What does Ozma need more animals for anyway? You would

think she had enough grotesqueries as her court by now! Is she a

zookeeper? Do you think she actually likes it when Captain Salt brings

her strange new creatures for her menagerie? Does she have amenagerie? Does she set the animals free to fend for themselves?

What?” Bobo continued sulking, propping his face on his hands and

staring morosely into the horizon. “From everything I’ve heard, she’s too

soft-hearted to capture anything. So why does she allow Captain Salt to

do it?”

Truella shrugged. “I can’t say,” she answered truthfully. “It does

seem like it could be cruel, though… unless the animals come willingly,

without being forced. I can’t imagine being taken away from everything

I’ve known, everything I’ve ever held dear.”

“Perhaps the animals aren’t as attached to their homes as we

are,” thought Bobo.



“I’ve heard the phrase ‘home is where the heart is’,” noted

Truella, “and I guess that makes sense. Captain Salt, Ato, Tandy and

Nikobo call this ship their home. Arko, Orpa and Sally call the entire

ocean their home.”

“I have a summer palace, and a royal palace,” added Bobo. He

straightened up to share a glance with the princess. “And sometimes

neither of them feel quite like home.”

Truella tentatively placed her hand on his, and he closed his

fingers about hers. “This ship could be home, for a little while anyway.”

Bobo impulsively pulled off the ascot he got from Quavo and

offered it to Truella. “This would look so much nicer on you,” he said

quietly, staring into her eyes. He reached it around her neck and tied it

loosely so its iridescent cloth shimmered around her shoulders. Bobo

paused, regarding the lovely princess before him. Without thinking, he

grasped her face in his hands and pulled close, reaching forward and

pressing his lips against hers.

Truella, shocked, pushed him away and nearly fell to the floor by

the bulwark. “Wh—what are you doing? Oh, oh… this is a mistake. I’m

sorry! I never meant for you to think… that is, I did not mean to give youthe impression…” Tears began coursing down her cheeks as she

straightened up and backed away. “I—I need to… to go help Ato. In the

kitchen. G-goodbye.”

Bobo watched her as she fairly flew down the steps leading to the

kitchen. He wrinkled his nose, turning his gaze downward, then back out

to the desert below. He took a deep, calming breath, gritted his teeth,

and sighed, “Bah.”

The trip across the desert took a good deal longer than Captain

Salt had presumed. After three days of sailing due west, with the

Dragon’s Spine Mountains just as small and indistinct on the horizon as

they were when they left Jade Lake, it was quite obvious to them all that

the continent was much larger than anyone had expected. Captain Salt



turned course northward, with a slight westward angle. With any luck,

they would make it to the remote outpost. As long as the enchantment

that allowed the Crescent Moon to remain airborne lasted, they could fly

on indefinitely; and there was nothing to indicate that the enchantment

would not last. Though magic in Tarara seemed almost nonexistent, at

least the enchantments bestowed on the ship back in Oz—by true

magicians—still remained in effect. Such was the odd ways of fairylands.

The heat was intense, but Ato, who was affected most by it,

learned to regulate his time in it, sleeping throughout most of the days

and doing his work in the kitchen at night. Arko and Orpa did the same,

as did Sally. They were accustomed to the cold depths of the ocean, and

despite the relative coolness of Nikobo’s tank, they found themselves

mostly incapacitated by the extreme temperature. Tandy did his best to

make sure they were as comfortable as they could be, but he too was

suffering from the temperatures.

Bobo resumed his gloomy moping around the ship, and Truella

stayed in the kitchen for most of the time. When she was not in there,

she stayed in her cabin, or cleaning up the dining area. It was only then

that she would encounter Bobo. The prince expected her to be icy tohim, but he was relieved to see that the scarf he gave her was around

her neck, and though she did not make eye contact with him or speak

with him, he did at least get to see her when they ate.

The only ones not adversely affected by the flight across the

Monshera were Captain Salt, Zipper and Roger. Captain Salt had long

since removed his hat and greatcoat, and simply wore a sash on his

head, a light shirt, blue denim shorts, and sandals. The heat made him

perspire a bit, but otherwise the swarthy old captain paid it no mind.

Zipper ignored the heat altogether, unaffected by it, and Roger slept a

lot in the crow’s nest. Both birds did not sweat, though Roger was seen

to be panting at times.



After having turned north, within two days the ship and crew were

within sight of the outpost. With both Roger and the captain scanning

the horizon for it, eventually they were bound to locate it, and luckily

their path did not bypass it. Recalling Sheik Tazander’s words, they

knew the outpost to be immediately north of where they parted ways

with him, but having traveled over the desert wasteland—and still

having not found the hebtuos or ouatos—left their directions a bit

muddled.

Much as the sheik had described it, the outpost was indeed

deserted, though after having sent Tandy and Zipper down to

investigate the lone watchtower and few buildings, they learned that

there were still urns of water and sealed bags which presumably

contained dried meat. The urns and bags were actually located in small

cellars in each building, with a good supply of them in the cellar of the

watchtower. One of the buildings appeared to be stables, and at one

time there may have been oats or hay stored there, but the heat and

sand had long since eaten away at it, and only a few wisps of hay

remained stuck between wood slats in the door frames. Some crude

maps were rolled up and neatly stacked in the watchtower, but beyondthose meager supplies, there was nothing else of note.

A well was set up near the tower, and Tandy could see that it was

dug quite deep into the sand, lined with rocks, and had a functioning

pulley with a bucket attached to the rope. Out of curiosity, the cabin boy

lowered the bucket down into the well to see if it was dry or not. The

rope was thickly wound on the pulley, which was his first clue that the

well was quite deep. After a good five minutes lowering it, hearing it

knock against the stones lining the interior of the well, it finally stopped

its descent.

“I can’t imagine how long it took to dig this,” he muttered to

Zipper as they both peered downward into the dark pit.



“Let alone line it with stones!” added the ork. Both nodded,

realizing that the construction of the well was a Herculean feat in and of

itself.

Tandy jerked on the rope a bit, but the bucket was weighted, and

sank on its own. After another five minutes of pulling it up, both were

disappointed to see that it was only full of water.

Tandy chuckled. “What were we expecting?” he sighed. “Golden

honey? Grape juice?” He sighed, exchanging a disappointed look with

Zipper. “Well, no sense in letting this go to waste!” He hefted the bucket

in his arms and swung it toward the ork, splashing the bird, who laughed

at the sudden shower. Tandy then upended the bucket over his head,

emptying it out completely.

“Why not just lower the bucket back down into the well?” asked

the ork. “That way, the next person who uses this won’t have to spend

five minutes doing it.”

Tandy nodded his head. “I can see where you might think that’s a

good idea,” he began as he secured the bucket on a hook that hung

underneath the roof of the well. Turning back to the ork, he continued,

“The thing is: if we left the bucket down in the water, if no one camealong to use it, eventually the water would soak into the wood and the

rope, and it could rot. The bucket could fall into the water, or the rope

could break, and then the well would have to be repaired. The bucket

and rope could get tangled with whatever new bucket and rope they

come up with, and it would just be a mess. No,” he regarded the bucket

sadly as it hung on the hook. “It’s better up here, high and dry.”

The two were about to head back to the Crescent Moon when a

sudden noise ripped through the air, startling them both. The sound

came from one of the few meager buildings. Both turned to look in the

direction it came from.

“What was that?” demanded Zipper. His wings shuddered, and the

movement soon had his entire body convulsing in shivers. “It—it



sounded like a—a scream.” He spoke the last word in a whisper, almost

as if he did not believe what he was saying.

“It came from over there.” Tandy pointed toward a shed that was

too small for them to have investigated. Neither considered that

anything worth finding was in it, for it was more of a lean-to, and they

could see that it contained only boards and some other building

materials. Without stopping to think, he led the ork over to the structure,

pulled by his own curiosity.

The agonized wail had died away to a pitiful gurgling noise, which

was then followed by a gnashing sound, as if cloth tearing, then a brutal

crunching, gnawing noise.

Tandy did his best to remain as silent as possible, but his

breathing had increased, and his face was turning ashen as he shivered

with fear and apprehension. Never before, in all his long years, had he

heard something die, and then be savagely eaten… which he knew all

too well was happening just behind the lean-to partition. Zipper, as well,

was wobbling on unsteady legs with his eyes blinking fitfully, his mind

on the verge of blacking out.

Leaning forward, both the cabin boy and the ork peered under thewood that was leaning against the side of the shed. What met their sight

surely scarred their minds. It was too abhorrent –too overwhelming –for

either Tandy or Zipper to properly react to.

A lizard-like creature, perhaps two feet long and a foot in height,

was in the midst of engorging itself with voracious cruelty. The stench

from the thing was overpowering, its brown and grey mottled scales

running foul with puss-oozing welts. The monstrosity tore at the flesh of

its fresh kill, oblivious to the dead animal’s blood soaking into the

ground beneath it, squishing and squirming about in the viscous gore.

Somehow, the reptilian creature seemed exuberant, almost ecstatic as it

plunged deeper and deeper into the carcass, tearing out the viscera in

long, ensanguined strings.



The dead thing, though horribly twisted and distorted, still had a

lingering majesty. It was a hybrid of sorts, a combination both avian and

ophidian, with very colorful plumage. It was the hapless creature’s

blood-soaked pinions that struck Tandy hard with a horrifying

realization. The victim that the foul beast was feeding on was none other

than one of the very specimens that the crew of the Crescent Moon had

been laboriously searching for; one of the winged reptiles or crawling

birds.

And, cruelest of all, there crushed beneath one of the predator’s

powerful legs was a youngling, who had died trying to get to its mother’s

side. To add to the horror, a second baby—a hatchling from the looks of

it, for there were two freshly cracked open eggs in a depression in the

ground—was lying motionless next to its larger sibling.

Zipper screamed. Tandy screamed. The inhuman creature that

was devouring the mother with such relished abandon stopped its

decimation and slowly turned its horrible gaze toward Tandy and Zipper.

Flicking its tongue out over its blood-drenched lips, it flashed a razor-

sharp grin at them, then lifted its leg and urinated on the second small

animal, further defiling it. The long-lost king of Ot’Sama vomited, and though he tried hard

to be sick away from himself, it went all over the front of his shirt,

drenching him even down through his pants.

The ork convulsed with spasms and lost control of his bladder,

soaking his four wobbling legs with copious amounts of urine. Poor

Zipper’s feet slipped about in his involuntary secretions, sending the big

bird tumbling over the wet ground.

The frightening creature flicked its forked tongue in their direction

tasting them from afar. Its hideousness became suddenly all too patent

as it scurried out of the shadows and straight towards them. Two sharp

horns protruded from the top of its hellish head, one on either side. Its

skin was greasy and brown, clumps of it falling off onto the sand as it



darted forward, where it steamed like an animal’s fresh droppings. In

fact, what fell off it appeared to be just that… ordure. Its tail was

viciously barbed, and all four of its appendages had sharp talons that

could easily render and mangle flesh.

Tandy was so terror-stricken he could not find his own voice. As

the repugnant creature drew dangerously closer, Tandy and Zipper both

backed away as fast as they could, all the while still facing it. The

abomination hissed, spewing rank mucous as the saggy flesh around its

neck suddenly expanded, flaring out into a spiked collar that shook as it

stretched outward, framing its face.

Zipper screamed once again, but his voice was strangled in his

constricted throat, and only a meager whine came out. Even though

Tandy’s voice had completely left him, he still had the wits to back away

faster while the creature pursued them.

“I maim thrash kill you dead all fecal produce eating hatred!” the

basiliscan beast howled in a heavy, malefic voice. The heaviness of the

words, uttered with such sinister violence, expunged from the kuray’s

throat with an intangible mass, as if there were indeed an actual gravity

behind it, pushing each poisonous syllable outward and down. “Die eatdirt die like dog scum maim eating filth!”

Something abruptly then came over the ork, something primal,

desperate, and defiantly self-preserving. “NO!” screamed the huge bird

with such sudden force and determination that the foul creature

pursuing him hesitated momentarily. Zipper had stopped retreating and

renounced his fear as he stood his ground and faced down the kuray.

Tandy, still feeling all too much like prey, tried his best to put distance

between himself and the predatory lizard.

Zipper advanced, raised his powerful foreleg, talons outstretched,

and brought it down with tremendous force on the tainted reptile’s

spine. There was a sudden sickening crunch as the creature’s vertebrae

snapped violently in two. The ork, fueled by the rush of adrenaline, went



berserk and launched into a killing frenzy. Zipper whipped his elongated

neck about and sank swiftly down with his sharp, menacing beak. With

surgical precision, the fowl punctured through the brainpan of the lizard,

shredding the fleshy membrane like tissue. Still not sated, the ork

pecked at the kuray’s twitching eye and ripped it ferociously out of the

socket. As Zipper flung the orb from him, he attacked again with

renewed vehemence. He tore with his deadly foreclaws into the

creature, maddeningly eviscerating it into pieces. For the final touch,

Zipper raised his claw once more and smashed it down three times, until

the gore that splattered about the creatures decimated body turned to

mud with the sand.

“Stink!” gurgled the ork, reeling. He scraped his claws and beak

in the sand frantically, trying to wipe the remnants of the nasty creature

from his appendages. Now that Tandy and Zipper’s mutual terror had

turned to revulsion, they both realized that the creature stank worse

than the foulest outhouse, and that its stench was now fully on them.

“The…well,” Tandy said through stuttered choking, fighting a gag

that lodged in his throat. He tore off his vomit-covered shirt, throwing it

over the annihilated creature, and Zipper—still scraping his claws andbeak on the ground—threw more sand over it and the other dead

animals until there was a cloud of dust, and the disgusting scene was

partially obscured.

They ran, stumbling, to the well, where Tandy agonizingly lowered

the bucket and raised it three times, throwing water over himself and

the ork, until their breathing calmed, and their shaking stopped. The

shock of what they had both endured was finally beginning to subside, if

only for the moment.

One more time, Tandy lowered and raised the bucket, pouring

some into his mouth, and offering the rest to Zipper. After they emptied

it, Tandy hung it back onto the hook, and the two trudged away from the

well and the outpost toward where the Crescent Moon awaited them.



“We never speak of this,” Tandy said through clenched teeth to

the ork. He looked up at the ship hanging in mid-air above them, with a

rope ladder leading upward to it. Grabbing the bottom rung, Tandy

swung himself upward, sending the rope ladder swinging wildly. Tandy

held tight, taking several deep breaths until the swinging stopped and

he was able to climb back up.

Wordlessly, Zipper watched him ascend, and then flew upward

himself to join the rest of the crew on board.

Tandy did an exceptional job of collecting himself as he ascended

the ladder, and by the time he reached the ship and climbed over the

railing, he had come up with an explanation for his missing shirt, and

whatever lingering odor might still be on him. Thankfully the heat and

wind had dried him off so that by the time he arrived, he was not in the

least bit wet… at least, not from water. Sweat beaded on his forehead,

chest, back, and under his arms.

“Nothing down there,” he said before anyone could ask. Sally had

come to his side, having seen him through a porthole in the kitchen as

he climbed up the side of the ship. Captain Salt was on deck with Roger,

the mer-folk and Nikobo in their tank, and even Bobo had deigned tomope about the deck. Only Truella remained in the kitchen.

Zipper landed on the deck with a clatter of claws. He had dried off

completely in the hot desert wind, and there was no sign of him having

been wet, either. Before anyone could realize that he possibly still had

any odor remaining, the ork settled down in his coiled rope nest and sat

quietly, hoping to go unnoticed.

Tandy related the untruth that he had concocted. “I’m not sure,

but I—I think I might’ve stepped in something that a camel or an

elephant left behind. I got a bit sick. Threw up, I’m ashamed to say. I left

the shirt down there. It was a mess, and I have so many more.” He did

not feel that his story was completely a lie. Indeed, a camel or an

elephant could easily have left the creature alone and either ignored it



or fled from it. The part about getting sick was accurate, too. He liked

the story, and since Zipper said nothing, he winked at the ork

meaningfully, hoping the other would understand and not say anything

to the contrary. Truth be told, Zipper was beyond words at the moment

and he would remain so for quite some time. The ork tried his best to

hide the nervous shiver that racked through his body.

Captain Salt, who had been watching their descent from time to

time, raised an eyebrow and sniffed. “Must’ve been a whopper,” he

drawled, then pressed his lips together. “What ye stepped in, that is.”

He closed his eyes and quickly turned away, returning to his post at the

wheel.

The purpose of stopping at the remote outpost had been twofold:

to scout for the elusive hebtuos and ouatos, and to ensure that they

were on the route roughly laid out for them to make it to the

northwesternmost corner of Tarara, where they might locate Cadger’s

Island and, perhaps, finally a roc. It was this overwhelming purpose that

was driving Captain Salt now, and the main reason he overlooked

Tandy’s scant story without any sort of confrontation.

Having come up empty-handed at the outpost, the good captainreasoned that the only way to go now was west, to the Dragon’s Spine

Mountains, and then follow the ridges north to the coast. Still far in the

distance, the mountains were nothing more than a thin line on the

horizon, but it was at least a destination that was in sight. The flatness

of the desert throughout Tarara ensured that they could be seen from

just about any part of the continent.

The moods of the various crewmembers were all converging on

morose, though Captain Salt remained steadfast in his purpose, and of

all of them, only Truella seemed hopeful. The hippopotamus and mer-

folk listlessly wallowed in the tank as if it were more of a prison than a

comfort. Without water from the ocean, the pumps and drains were

sealed, and water had to be periodically brought up to it from the ship’s



hold. Though the Red Jinn’s magic still kept the water circulating and

clean, it did not prevent it from evaporating in the arid atmosphere.

Ato, Truella and Sally rationed the drinking water for emergencies,

so they prepared fewer extravagant meals, and relied more on the fruit

and vegetables that they had stored for nourishment and hydration.

They all ate more salads, and that also allowed Ato to sleep more during

the day. Despite the rest he was getting, however, soon the cook could

be seen at night with drawn face and dark circles under his eyes, and he

seemed more lethargic. Several times he clutched at his chest and

grimaced in pain.

Sally and Tandy spent a great deal of time together, alone, in her

cabin. Nobody felt the need to inquire, and they were left to themselves

for the most part. The sea fairy spent less time in the kitchen, as there

was less to do, trusting Truella to carve the melons or peel the oranges.

The princess of Mo was easily able to crack coconuts open, using a vise

that was mounted to Ato’s vast counter-top. The coconut milk was

highly enjoyed by everyone, but did not do much in the way of

quenching thirsts.

Thankfully the watermelons were perfectly preserved, and went along way to keep the crew from suffering dehydration. Nikobo requested

the rinds, the orange peels, even the coconut shells. At first, Tandy

thought she was being too self-deprecating and sacrificial, but when the

hippopotamus showed them how easy it was for her to crunch it all

down, and insisted that she enjoyed it, they realized that they could

make their provisions go farther. Still, however, when they ate the

watermelon and other fruit, they all consciously left a lot of the sweeter

flesh on the portions given to her.

Roger subsisted mostly on the seeds of the watermelons, though

he ate his share of the sweet red fruit. Zipper, too, ate little. Both birds

insisted that they did not need so much to eat. Indeed, Roger was only a

fraction the size of the people aboard the ship, and Zipper was still



struggling to get his appetite back. The poor ork could not get the image

of the carnivorous kuray and its sickening ways out of his mind. That,

and the foul odor of the damned creature that seemed to linger in his

nose, all the way down to the pit of his stomach.

Arko and Orpa nibbled sparingly on the fruit and vegetables that

Ato provided them, and remained quiet and helpful in as much as they

could be; which, unfortunately, was not much.

Captain Salt, Ato, Bobo, and Tandy did their best to curb their

appetites. Ato had baked hundreds of loaves of breads—of all different

kinds—before and during the journey, so there was no shortage in that

manner. The crates of peanut butter, jams, jellies, marmalades, and

chocolate spreads were put to good use. Though the stores kept in the

ship’s hold were being eaten into, they were all assured that there was

more than enough to keep them all well fed for a long time to come.

Still, after three days of sailing toward the mountains, Tandy,

Sally, Truella, Bobo, and Ato approached Captain Salt at the wheel one

morning after the sun had risen over the sands, burning down on them

with its unrelenting heat.

“Captain Salt,” spoke Sally, gingerly. She was elected to addresshim, for the old pirate felt especially affectionate toward the sea fairy.

Though he looked upon Tandy like a son, the cabin boy felt more

confident that Sally could communicate better with him. “Captain Salt.

Would you mind coming over to the tank? Ato’s prepared something for

us all.”

Captain Salt regarded the group of five people solemnly gathered

about him, noting the mixture of emotions on their faces—resolution,

trepidation, sadness, exhaustion. Shrugging, he let go of the wheel and

allowed himself to be led over to Nikobo’s tank, where the

hippopotamus, Arko, Orpa, Zipper and Roger waited. “What’s this then?

Ye’ve all had a meetin’ without me? I thought I was captain of this here

vessel.”



Sally, sensing Captain Salt’s bridling apprehension, linked her arm

through his as they walked to the tank. She felt him relax, and they all

gathered together.

“Sammy.” It was Ato that spoke. The cook looked tired and feeble,

his complexion waxy pale and his eyes drooping. “Sammy, we’ve got to

give up the hunt. None of us are used to this, and I’m afraid the journey

is taking its toll on us all.”

“We can’t just get off the ship if we want to leave,” added Bobo.

His voice had lost a good deal of its pomposity, and the prince—instead

of looking imperious and haughty—appeared more sad and worn than

anything else. “We’re stuck on here as long as we’re far from home. We

can’t depart and be stranded in the desert.”

Truella, breathing deeply, put her hand on the prince’s, surprising

him. “Zipper and Roger can’t fly over the desert, either. The distance is

too great. We’re staying with you…” she sighed, and continued, “and for

some of us, it’s because we have no choice.”

“Surely even you’ll agree that we should go straight to the ocean,

and back home,” suggested Tandy hopefully. “We went on this trip to

find the crawling birds and the flying reptiles, and maybe a roc, but it’sbecome entirely too much. Right, Captain?”

The old pirate, with his soft heart, looked at the faces all staring

back at him. This was his one opportunity to get the strange creatures

that he had heard of almost a century ago… creatures that had eluded

him thus far. He could see the toll it was taking on the crew and the

passengers, and acknowledged that the quest was proving to be

fruitless.

Captain Salt shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “At least we kept

Bobo away from Boboland for a while!” he said, laughingly.

Bobo sputtered and said, “Now, see here!” but otherwise the rest

of them nodded and sighed in relief.



Taking a deep breath, Captain Salt smilingly suggested that they

turn immediately north once they made it to the mountains, then sail

back east toward Nonestica. They would drop Bobo off straight away,

and escort Truella to the coast where she and Zipper would only have a

short flight to Mo. From there, they would sail up to the coral reef and

drop off Arko and Orpa, and then see what fortune brought them from

there.

The mood was relaxed and happy aboard the Crescent Moon, and

everyone quickly returned to their duties with relief and anticipation.

There was a distinct goal in sight, and eventually they would make it

back home.

Everyone was happy—except for Captain Salt. His disappointment

and frustration were kept in check, though hints of his bitterness were in

the looks he gave his shipmates when their backs were turned. As a

former pirate, he knew full well how to lie, how to make people believe

what they wanted to. He also knew a lie when he heard it, and was

especially disappointed in Zipper and Tandy for not bringing back the

specimen that they ended up killing, and even more for lying about it.

That was the worst part for him, the fact that they had both lied to hisface. He was not actually shocked that the ork had killed the creature. It

was likely the same kind Ma’Kra had shown him. Captain Salt had seen

death and killing in his years, long before Lurline had enchanted Oz and

things had changed. Captain Salt had put those memories behind him,

and shoved his former life in a back drawer of his mind, never to be

opened again. But seeing and experiencing what they had in Tarara had

awoken something in him, had cracked the draw open in the back of his

mind once more, if only a tiny bit. And though he was not yet ready to

accept it, he did not shove the drawer shut again, either. He smiled and

laughed with the others, making plans for the return trip and feigning

relief. Even poor Ato was fooled.



The Dragon’s Spine mountain range loomed in its majestic

vastness, and finally some plant growth could be seen after so many

days of nothing but sand. At first there were only scrub brush and

tumbleweeds every now and then, but eventually the scrub blended

with rough grasses that grew in spotty patches. Soon bushes came into

sight below the ship, and as they flew over the foothills of the

mountains, even some straggly trees emerged from the ground.

Captain Salt reasoned with the crew that, since they were already

there at the foot of the mountains, they might as well have a look

around. So once more, Tandy and Zipper found themselves heading

down below for reconnaissance; though this time they were

accompanied by Roger. Perhaps the sparse vegetation might be a

habitat for the hebtuos or ouatos, and this would be the only way to find

out. Furthermore, this may well indeed be their last chance…his last chance. Captain Salt

allowed them three hours of searching, and suggested that they each take different

directions and work their ways outward from the spot where Tandy touched down from the

rope ladder. The cabin boy seemed uneasy at the suggestion, but he acquiesced soon

enough. “Allowed three hours?” he muttered to himself as he reluctantly mounted the rope

ladder down once more.

Thankfully, the excursion was fruitless, and they did not encounter anything living

other than the few plants, and those were mostly dried up and shriveled. Tandy suspected

that Captain Salt saw through their story at the outpost, and did not know if he had it in him

to lie to his friend a second time.

After an hour of trudging through the desert, peering under the flat rocks that

littered the foothills, Tandy took off his shirt and tied it around his head. He recalled

something that Tazander had said during their visit; about why the people wore the cloths

over their heads, and the women wore veils. The heat from the desert could really disable

someone if they did not protect their heads. His skin was tough from years of sailing on the

ship, so he did not worry about getting sunburned, even when his skin turned red and

started itching. The prickling sensation on his back and shoulders could not compare to the

prickling of his conscience.



Roughly two hours later, Tandy tuned back to the ship, repeating the zigzag search

pattern. He called out to Zipper and Roger, but he was not too concerned. The birds could

easily fly and catch up to the ship. They all knew that they would turn north and follow the

range to the coast, so if the birds were separated from the ship, they could potentially catch

up. Captain Salt would wait for them, regardless. He would not leave anyone behind.

A fairly large boulder lay nearby, so Tandy decided to have a seat and wait for a

while, just in case the birds showed up. Entwining his fingers behind his head, he leaned

back and reclined on the rock, feeling the heat on his chest and stomach. “I’ll just close my

eyes, just for a bit,” he sighed as he laid back and dozed.

Opening his eyes roughly half an hour later, he looked up to see the sun harshly

burning down upon the land. The Crescent Moon blotted out a portion of it, casting a grand

shadow over the rocky terrain. Stretching, Tandy stood up and strode to where the rope

ladder touched ground.

Roger squawked his presence as Tandy was halfway up the ladder. He was almost

to the ship when Zipper returned. All three had nothing to report—they could not find any

trace of the flying reptiles or creeping birds.

Two things happened as a result of the scouting trip that Captain Salt sent Zipper,

Roger, and Tandy on. First, though they had concluded that no living thing was about on

the surface of the wasteland or otherwise, they had been dreadfully wrong. For there had

been at least one thing there, though it was hard to say whether it was living or not, and this

thing had taken notice of their presence. Second, having taken his shirt off and wandered

around in the blistering heat for a few hours, Tandy experienced—for the first time in his

long existence—the worst sunburn he had ever gotten in his entire life… if not the very

first!

CHAPTER EIGHT: OF THE SKY ABOVE AND THE EARTH BELOW

Sally and Truella played nursemaids with three patients, now. Ato’s lethargy and

weakness continued to worsen, despite the hope that they would soon be back at sea and

heading back to their homeland and the enchantments that benefited them so much there.

Zipper presented himself to ask for Truella’s help once the pain in his front claw became

unbearable. There were infected punctures in the flesh of his digits, and the smell coming

from his claw was unpleasant enough to tell them that it needed treatment right away.



Tandy’s sunburn was excruciating, and though they attempted to give him relief by sitting

him in Nikobo’s tank, he still writhed in agony. He could not even put his arms down at his

sides, since the sensitive skin of his armpits was just as burned as the rest of him.

Tandy and Ato did not blame the captain for their states. Tandy blamed it on

inexperience and stupidity. Ato blamed it on the weather. Zipper seethed, making it clear

he blamed the Captain, and insisting that the only reason Tandy and Ato did not was

because of their loyalty to him.

Arko and Orpa were not faring too well, either. Though the water from the barrels

kept them wet, the heat was slowly cooking them alive, and the two mer-folk had taken to

lying practically motionless on the floor of the tank. Nikobo, too, was miserable, and added

to her misery by doing her best not to disturb Arko and Orpa, though the hours of

unmoving silence were just as tortuous to her as Tandy’s sunburn was to him.

“It’s time to get help, Sammy,” wheezed Ato to his old friend one evening as they

sat at the table to eat more melon and salad. The cook, normally eager to eat as much as he

possibly could, picked at his food, nibbling a few portions. He pushed the plate away and

leaned heavily forward on the table. “We’re out of our element here. We need help now.

We won’t make it otherwise.”

Captain Salt did not need any persuading. Though he was disappointed—again—at

missing out on his prizes, he knew his first priority was the safety and health of the people

aboard his ship. “I know, Ato,” he said, softly. Only Bobo and Truella had joined them at

the table, for Sally stayed with Tandy, Arko, Orpa and Nikobo full time, Zipper slept

excessively, and Roger had taken to keeping an eye on his fellow avian.

Silently, Truella arose from her seat after they had finished their salads, and

returned to the table with a bowl of gelatin that she had made from some of the fruit and

melon. Quietly doling out portions into four bowls, she set one in front of each of them.

Truella did her best to smile and project a positive demeanor, but the sagging of her

shoulders and her shuffling step belied her feelings.

Captain Salt looked down at his bowl, at the jiggling pink substance with the

chunks of mango and pineapple stuck inside of it. He looked back up at his oldest friend,

and said, simply, “The hold.”



“The hold?” echoed the cook as Truella and Bobo looked up. With dawning

realization, all three of them understood what Captain Salt meant.

“It… could work,” thought Ato aloud, poking his spoon into the gelatin. The

substance slowed down the spoon’s progress, and when he let go, the spoon stayed in

place.

“Would they be conscious?” asked Bobo with a concern that the others had never

seen in him before. “I mean, would they be comfortable? Uncomfortable? Would they even

be aware of anything?”

“I suppose they might,” mused Ato out loud. He considered, and then spoke, “What

if we took a sleeping potion? I’m going to do it, too, if the others are. We could sleep in the

storage until we got back to Oz, and by then, I’m sure Ozma will be able to whip us all

back into shipshape in no time.”

“So,” Captain Salt breathed, his voice low and calm, “you’ll do it?”

Ato sighed, still poking at his dessert. “You don’t need a crew to run the ship,

Sammy.” He looked at Truella, whose face showed her concern. “You can keep the others

fed, can’t you? You can cook, make salads, slice melons. Would you be willing?”

The princess of Mo merely nodded. She was shocked at the idea, and equally

shocked at Bobo’s turn in attitude. Tenderness was not something she had seen in the

prince since they had first met, and she was enticed by it.

“We’re in agreement, then?” asked the old captain, frowning. He did not like

putting anyone out of commission; least of all people he liked and cared about. However,

the alternative was more suffering for them, and if they could be relieved of their pains, he

would do it.

Ato, Truella and Bobo nodded.

The four finished their meal in silence, and then headed to various parts of the ship

to make the suggestion to the rest.

Zipper did not trust the idea, but with Truella’s insistence, and Ato’s example, he

relented. Tandy, though his intense pain clouded his thinking, agreed immediately to it,

despite Sally’s protests. The sea fairy insisted that she would then remain in the hold with

them, keeping a watchful eye in case anything should happen.



Arko and Orpa silently agreed to the option, and Arko spoke for the first time since

they began suffering in the desert’s intense heat.

“It’ll be like sleeping for a long time,” he said, looking for confirmation from Ato

and the others.

“We’ll take a sleeping draught I’ve prepared,” replied Ato, holding two phials in

his hands. “Maetta, a sorceress from the land of Mo, enchanted our hold so that anything

placed in it remains fresh and unchanged until it’s taken back out again. Sally will remain

down there to keep an eye on us all.”

“Us?” inquired Orpa. The mermaid’s eyes lolled sadly. She was beyond tired,

beyond exhausted.

“Yes, my dear.” Ato smiled weakly. “I’ll be there with you.”

Nikobo nodded, giving her approval to the endeavor. She knew that she could not

make it down the levels to the hold, and would have to remain in her tank. The heat was

uncomfortable, but she was a hippopotamus who had lived through many decades of

adventure, and this would only serve to make her stronger. “Go ahead,” she said, simply.

The sleeping draught made them all very tired. Captain Salt had to carry Arko

down to the hold, and repeated the effort with Orpa and Tandy. Though the mer-folk were

quiet when he carried them down, Tandy’s agony was enough that despite the captain’s

best efforts, he cried out in pain several times, and whimpered miserably until the former

pirate pushed the cabin boy into the gelatinous substance of the hold. Thankfully the

sleeping potion had finally taken effect on them, and the sleepers floated in place, their

eyes closed, and—for the first time in several days—peaceful.

“I’ll… go in… myself…”the ork declared with slurred speech, wobbling unsteadily

as he watched Arko, Orpa and Tandy being placed in the hold. The watermelons, coconuts,

mangos, papayas and other produce already in there were suspended around them, looking

as if they were caught in a maelstrom of fruit, frozen in time. Zipper took a deep breath and

forged his way into the substance, moving further in than the others. He turned, surprise

painted on his face. “I thought this… would stop me… in place…” he said, sleepily. “I

can… move around fine…”

“It’s the enchantment,” Ato explained, uncorking the phial of sleeping draught in

his hand with his thumb. “We can move around in it easily enough; how else would we get



anything in and out of it?” He chuckled, glad that the enchantment held in a place where

there seemed to be so little magic. Raising the phial in a salute to Captain Salt, Bobo,

Truella, Sally and Roger, the ship’s cook drank deeply from it, and strode into the

gelatinous hold. “We’ll see you soon,” he said, waving politely at the ladies, and nodding

courteously at the prince. “Get us home,” he ordered Captain Salt, giving him a stern but

hopeful look. Ato closed his eyes, and soon the enchantment congealed about him, and he

was as motionless as the others.

Tears ran down Sally’s face as she looked at Tandy’s reddened body, her

helplessness stabbing bluntly through her heart. The room was heavy with silence, and

after several unsure minutes, the remaining crew turned around to head back up the decks

to attend to whatever duties they could.

“Don’t cry, Sally.” Bobo laid his hand gently on her shoulder. “They’re just asleep,

nothing more. They won’t even notice how long it might take us to get back home.” He

turned to look forcefully at the captain. “It’ won’t be long, right?”

Captain Salt shook his head with an angry frown and pushed roughly past the

prince, walking around the narwhal horn that was stuck through the floorboards and

projected its way upward through the ship. “It’ll take as long as it takes. I’ll get ye home,

the lot of ye. Don’t question me or try me patience any further.”

With fewer mouths to feed, the stores already in the kitchen pantry lasted a lot

longer. Captain Salt sailed the ship into the blue sky over the mountains, gaining altitude,

until they were well into them. Trees and plants grew in the Dragon’s Spine Mountains, a

welcome sight after so long in the desert. At the higher altitude, the air was thinner, but it

was dramatically cooler, and as Captain Salt turned the Crescent Moon northward, even he

breathed in relief that their misery would soon come to an end.

Below them, in the caves and tunnels that snaked through the bowels of the

mountain range, a man hurried as fast as he could, his bare feet slapping against the stone

cave floors. No light illuminated the underground tunnels, yet no light was needed.

Decades of traversing the subterranean maze told the man far more than his eyes ever

could. He knew exactly where he was headed. As he ran, he chanted runic words laced

with power, making sense only to his ears alone. With his inner vision he could see his



destination lingering before him like a will o’ the wisp, tantalizing, just out of his reach.

With a maddened dash he sprinted forward, knowing time was very much of the essence.

Night was falling with her soothing touch as the flying ship turned majestically in

the air to face the northern coast of Tarara. As dusk settled quietly over the land, it brought

with it several clouds in its wake that obscured the moon and stars overhead.

“Oh, thank heavens,” Nikobo laughed, tears in her large eyes. The hippopotamus

could smell rain, especially after not having smelled it for so long. “Samuel! Samuel Salt!

There’s rain coming!”

The clouds were not long in delivering the promised bounty, and soon sheets of rain

were pouring down onto the ship and the mountains around them.

Captain Salt laughed with joy, holding his arms outward to welcome the downpour.

He kicked the heel of his boot hard on the deck, trying to get the attention of Bobo and

Truella. “Roger!” he cried joyously. “Get them landlubbers up here! Get that sea fairy too!

This is too good ta miss!”

“Aye, Captain!” replied the Read Bird, flying about in the rain and letting the water

soak him from beak to tail. With an emphatic swoosh, the excited bird flew down the

stairwell to the lower decks, rounding up the prince, princess, and the sea fairy.

Emerging shortly thereafter, Roger was followed close behind by Bobo and Truella,

who both laughed incredulously at the welcome precipitation. “How is this possible?”

demanded Truella, smiling upward into the night sky as it mercifully rained down upon

them.

“Sally says she’s fine where she is,” reported Roger, flying about Captain Salt’s

head.

Nikobo was splashing about in her tank, shaking her large body vigorously as rain

pelted her leathery hide. “This is marvelous!” she exulted, laughing merrily.

Bobo and Truella clasped hands and danced together on the deck, waltzing around

the Captain at his wheel, Nikobo in her tank, and generally trying to follow Roger as he

capered erratically about.

After several minutes, Captain Salt sobered, and realized that they needed to stop

sailing, in case the storm got any worse. As it was, the night was very dark, and the rain

made it difficult to see the mountains below them. He sighed happily, and pulled on the



topmost knob jutting out of the wheel, slowing the ship to a halt. There was normally no

need to weigh anchor, but in the storm and unfamiliar terrain, he knew that this was a

situation that called for it.

Pressing another knob on the wheel, he let loose the anchor. Nikobo, Truella, Bobo

and Roger heard the heavy chain as it clanked, sending the anchor down to the mountains

below them. Down in the hold, Sally could hear it too, and noted that the others were still

quiet and motionless, though Zipper’s legs jerked a bit in his sleep, and Tandy’s brow

furrowed somewhat. Sally took another sip of the cold tea that Truella had brought her

earlier, and set it back down on the surface of a niche next to where she sat.

Suddenly, the cup flew back at her, dowsing her with its contents. Sally shrieked at

the sudden coldness, but soon had to disregard it as the ship toppled sideways, sending her

violently against the side wall, with the chair dangerously slamming against it close to her

head. She looked at the sleepers in the hold, and was relieved to see them still suspended in

the enchantment. The sleeping potion did a remarkable job keeping them unconscious,

even with the continuous jarring and jerking that the ship now encountered. They wobbled,

but remained motionless, thanks to Maetta’s crafty enchantments.

Picking herself up, Sally pushed past the narwhal horn and up the levels, joining

Captain Salt and the others on deck. The rain was still pouring down, but they were no

longer celebrating. Captain Salt was frantically turning knobs on the wheel, swearing and

wishing Ato was up there to help him figure out which ones to use. He must have pushed

the right one, for suddenly the sails on all the masts snapped shut in one swift motion, and

folded inward until they were all fastened around the masts.

The ship was being tossed about, and with the anchor stuck on the mountain below

them, they were in danger of slamming against the peak.

“I’ve got to set her down!” shouted the captain over the roar of the rain. “Hang on

everyone! This ain’t going ter be gentle!”

The ship descended slowly, still buffeted back and forth on its chain tether, and

with a massive jolt, settled suddenly on the side of the mountain.

“Don’t worry!” shouted the captain, still fiddling with the knobs at the wheel. He

pulled two and pressed a third, and they could hear something like pistons adjusting, and

with another, smaller, jolt, the ship sent out metal buttresses from the keel, securing it to



the steep incline of the mountain. After he made sure that the ship was immobile, he dashed

to the tank, where the rest had convened. “We’ll sit this out… weather the storm. It’ll be

fine—just like the time when we was caught on a sand bar outside Coregos for three days

’til the tide come in, before we had the flyin’. We’ll set sail again in the mornin’.”

Sally dashed back down to the hold, making sure the sleepers were still secure.

They were, and the sea fairy was able to pick up the fallen chair and cup, and some other

items that had been knocked out of place. The trunk containing the Ixian silks had slid

across the floor, but the other crates were secured to the walls and floors with ropes and

chains, so she shoved the trunk back where it had originally sat, and was able to relax once

again.

Truella’s task in the kitchen was more daunting, but Bobo helped her straighten it

up, retrieving fallen pots and pans, and checking the cupboards to make sure that no plates

or glasses had smashed inside them. Some canned food had spilled out of the pantry, and

several boxes and jars were toppled in a pile at the bottom, but it was something that they

could easily sort out together, and it gave them time to talk about their feelings for each

other in that shy, elusive way that they seemed to share.

Captain Salt and Roger inspected the deck, and with the exception of a missing

bucket and two broken lanterns, there was little damage that could be seen. Nikobo’s tank

was also secure, owing its safety to the enchantment placed upon it by the Red Jinn of Ev.

Though the rain still poured down upon them, Captain Salt suggested that they call

it a night, and dismissed the Read Bird to the lower decks. He retired to his cabin, and soon

the deck was deserted, except for the hippopotamus. Nikobo sighed, closed her eyes, and

enjoyed the pattering of the rain as it lulled her to sleep, high up in the tall peaks of the

Dragon’s Spine Mountains, in the uncharted continent of Tarara.

CHAPTER NINE: OF BLESSINGS UNFORSEEN

Truella and Bobo awoke the next morning on the floor of the kitchen, in the clothes

they wore the night before, still damp from the rain. Truella pulled herself upward from

Bobo’s arms, a little embarrassed and crimson of cheek, but happy all the same. The prince

yawned, stretched, and wished her a good morning.

Truella laughed, glad that their awkwardness had fled with the sudden rainstorm of

the previous night. Shaking her dress out, she pirouetted and dashed quickly from the



kitchen to her own cabin, where she speedily changed from her wet clothes to a simply—

and blessedly dry—frock. She could hear Bobo stumbling down the hallway, for the ship

was somewhat at an angle, and the door to his cabin shut as he followed her example.

Dressed in the common clothes of ship-hands, Truella and Bobo emerged on deck

to greet the shining sun of a new day and look about their surroundings. They were the first

ones up, as Roger was surprisingly still asleep below deck somewhere. At least, that’s what

they figured, since the Read Bird was nowhere to be seen.

The two went over to Nikobo’s tank to wish the hippopotamus a good morning.

Nearing her, they both noticed Nikobo staring, unblinking, off to the port side of the

Crescent Moon. Curious, they both turned to see what old Kobo was staring at. They could

see the plains of Amaland beyond the foothills. Like Ot’Sama, Ama was also mostly sandy

desert, but they did not concern themselves with that, knowing that they would be heading

north to the coast. Small white clouds scuttled off to the west, and turning slightly north but

still looking westward, Truella and Bobo could make out a bump on the horizon which was

likely another mountain.

Bobo looked back at Nikobo, who rigidly remained staring, and noticed that she

was trembling. “What?” he asked, furrowing his brow. “What are you staring at? What is

it?”

Truella suddenly froze. Bobo heard her suck her breath in and hold it. He realized

that she must have seen what Nikobo saw, and hoped to get an answer out of her. Slowly

turning, he whispered to her, “What do you see?”

Though she was frozen with fear, Truella slowly raised her hand and pointed off the

port side, her teeth gritted in terror.

Bobo looked again off the side of the ship, noticing for the first time that there was

a massive tree visible there. It must be huge indeed, he thought, for it to tower over the side

of the ship, although the branches were a bit sparse. The trunk was thick indeed. Perhaps

there was something in the branches? Bobo examined the limbs of the tree more intently as

he walked towards the larboard side of the ship.

“Hello,” the tree said, and Bobo realized that it was not a trunk, but the head of a

gigantic woman made of wood. The branches stood out from her hair, and until now, she

had remained motionless. “Don’t be frightened,” she continued, still unmoving. Slowly,



very slowly, the giant wooden woman raised a hand from her side and waved timidly at

them. “I scared your hippopotamus. I’m sorry. Now I’ve scared you. I tried to be still, but

that didn’t really seem to work.” She smiled, showing off teeth that were paler than the rest

of her, but still definitely wooden. “My name is Dorcas. I love your ship. It reminds me

of… of something from a long time ago.”

Bobo, though startled, broke free of his stupor and backed away, back toward

Nikobo and Truella and the tank. With a small voice, he barely managed to squeak, “My

name is Bobo, crown prince of B-Boboland. This is Too-rella… Truella, princess of Mo,

and this is Nikobo, the hippopotamus.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said the giant woman, nodding her head graciously. “What

brings you to the Dragon’s Spine? There’s nothing to see for miles and miles around.”

Timidly, Bobo walked toward the giant made of timber. He gingerly peered over

the bulwarks, down to the sloping side of the mountain, just to see how tall Dorcas was.

She looked to be about twenty feet in height, and was standing on a rocky outcropping that

gave her enough of a boost to peer onto the deck of the ship. Dashing back to his friends,

Bobo called out. “The captain of the ship—Captain Salt—is searching for specimens of the

flying reptile and the creeping bird. I don’t suppose you’ve seen any?”

“Sweet Oz! Shiver me timbers! Oh my stars and garters! Sizzling smurfs on a

sinkin’ ship! What on earth is that ?!” Captain Salt, awakened by the voices so close to his

cabin, came barreling out of it, pistols in both hands and a fierce grimace on his face. When

he saw Dorcas, the swarthy old pirate nearly fell to his knees, but managed to remain

standing.

“Nice pajamas, Captain,” sneered Bobo sarcastically. They all looked to see that

Captain Salt was wearing bright blue fuzzy pajamas with pictures of teddy bears all over.

“Are ye friend or foe?” demanded the captain, pointing both pistols at the giant

wooden woman.

“Are you a pirate?” she demanded, an angry frown on her lovely wooden features.

“I don’t take kindly to pirates, sir. Please lower your weapons. I’m only here to visit.”

“You’ll have to understand, Miss Dorcas,” Truella politely spoke up, “that we’ve

been through some very… unusual experiences. Normally we’re not so…”

“Jumpy,” said Bobo, finishing her sentence for her.



“So, ye’ve already had parley with this tree, eh?” demanded Captain Salt, lowering

his pistols.

“Begging your pardon, sir,” the giant interjected, “but I am not a tree. Perhaps I was

once, but I am Dorcas, and… well, here I am.” She glared sternly at Captain Salt. “Are you

a pirate? I asked you once already.”

“I am Sir Samuel Salt, Captain of this vessel, the Crescent Moon, knight of her

highness, Queen Ozma of Oz!” announced Captain Salt, trying his utmost to stand

importantly in his fuzzy blue pajamas.

“I thought Ozma was a princess,” murmured Truella to Bobo, just loud enough for

the prince to hear.

“We be on a journey of exploration, and if you’ll be kind enough to give us leave,

we must be goin’. The Ot’Saman desert has not been kind to me crew, and we’ve got…

one, two, three… four… five people in dire need of medical attention, and the sooner we

depart, the sooner we can get them well again.”

Dorcas placed a massive wooden hand to her mouth and gasped. “Eight bells! I did

not realize that you had injured aboard. Please, don’t go. I’ll get the doctor. He’s not far…

just wait right here!”

“A sawbones!” breathed Captain Salt, his eyes lighting up with hope. If this doctor

of hers could help the others—or return them to complete health—then there was a chance

he could continue searching for the hebtuos and ouatos. “They’re me white whale,” he

muttered, not realizing that Truella and Bobo were within earshot.

Not having read any literature from the great outside world, neither the prince nor

the princess understood his statement, and thankfully Captain Salt had not become a

Captain Ahab in their eyes. Or perhaps I have, he thought, frowning slightly.

After Dorcas had departed, Roger emerged from behind the pile of rope that Zipper

had been using as a nest. Shivering uncontrollably, the Read Bird staggered over to Captain

Salt. “S-she’s c-coming b-back?” he stuttered, still startled from the woman’s appearance.

“Aye. ’Tis a good thing too, me lad. If she’s got her a sawbones, we may yet be

able to continue our journey and find them creepy birds an’ flyin’ lizards.”

Roger gulped and looked quizzically at his captain. “Oh?” he replied, stunned once

again. “Do… do you think that’s wise?”





Dorcas was back on the rocky outcropping in no time, and easily deposited the man

on the deck of the ship, where he was able to meet Captain Salt and his crew.

The doctor, as she referred to him, was a flamboyantly-attired dark-skinned man.

He wore a fur cape around his shoulders, and long blades of grass around his waist, which

was fastened with a leather strap with a colorful clasp. Tied around his legs below the

knees were more furs and a collar of multicolor feathers stood out from behind his head.

Rings of gold covered the base of his neck, and he wore several rings in his ears. Other

than that, he wore nothing else, and they could see he was well-muscled and lithe, though

his face was that of an aged man. In one hand he carried a staff with more rings and beads

tied to the top, which rattled as he walked toward them.

Before the old man could utter a single word, Nikobo snorted and came storming

out of her tank to confront him. “Oh, it can’t be!” she exulted, falling to her knees in the

best bow she could manage. “It’s you! I never thought I’d see you again!” A great tear

rolled down her cheek, and she asked, “Did you send the rain?”

Captain Salt stared in surprise at the colorful old fellow, his jaw moving up and

down but no words came from his lips.

Sally, Truella and Bobo looked from the old man to Captain Salt and the

hippopotamus, then back again. Captain Salt had a look of surprise, joy, and trepidation

mixed on his face, and Nikobo’s joy at seeing him was obvious.

It was Dorcas who spoke. “You know each other?” she asked. Seeing that there

seemed to be no animosity, especially from Nikobo, she continued, “Well, good then! This

is Boglodore. He can help the others, I’m sure of it. Go on!” She brushed her hand toward

the people gathered on the deck of the ship, which startled Roger enough that he flew up to

the crow’s nest and hid there for the rest of the day.

“Y’ever get that one-tenth of the kingdom ye wanted?” asked Captain Salt, nodding

his head with respect to the old man. Turning to address the others, he spoke. “This be

Boglodore, the ‘old man of the jungle’ as he was called back in the day. He was a big help

in defeatin’ them Ozamandarins when they tried to take over Om.” He turned to face the

witch doctor and extended his hand. “I would assume, then, since ye helped us, we be

allies, right?” He looked at Boglodore’s bald head, and added. “Whatever happened to yer



turban? At least ye had somethin’ to cover yer head then.” Remembering something else,

he asked, “An’ what of yer umbrellaphant?”

“She’s still with me,” answered the witch doctor, staring down the former pirate.

“No, I never got the land I was promised, but then, it was promised to me by people I

helped to kill, so the deal was moot at best, wasn’t it? And I do not wear the turban

anymore.” A grin lit up his face, and he placed his hand on Nikobo’s massive head,

sending shivers of happiness through her. “Yes, I sent the rain. I remember you. I charged

you with protecting Tazander Tazah, the lost king of Ot’Sama. And you did well. Tell me,

do you still perform your duty? I saw him out in the desert with two strange birds.”

“Oh, great Boglodore! Yes, I do. But he’s hurt, and we need your help. I’m sure

you can help him! You’re the greatest magician I’ve ever known!”

Captain Salt had been thinking about what the old man had said. “You said you

helped… to kill them? Them square-hatted old fools what tried to keep Tandy off the

throne?”

Boglodore turned his toothy grin back to the captain. “You still think like you are in

Oz, my old ally.” He laughed, banging his staff on the wooden planks of the deck. “Surely

you have seen death here. Yes, we killed them. We ended their lives, drowning them in the

ocean. All these years, you did not have to worry about having their deaths on your

conscience either, did you? And now you do.”

“As I recall, my old ally,” the old pirate retorted, “’twas you what insisted on

carryin’ off them Ozamandarins with yer umbrellaphant an’ droppin’ them in the drink. My

conscience is clear!” He shook his head, still trying to realize what had actually happened.

“Killed them, eh?”

“Eight bells!” shouted Dorcas in exasperation. “You can argue later. I thought you

had sick and injured to tend to!”

Putting aside their petty squabble, Captain Salt led the old man of the jungle down

to the hold, followed by Sally, Truella, Bobo and Roger. With the help of the sea fairy, he

explained to Boglodore what had happened to each of them. Once Boglodore discovered

that they were suspended in an enchantment, he relaxed somewhat. After he felt he

understood each of their ailments, he requested that all but Sally leave the hold, and

instructed Truella to fetch him several items that he hoped she would find in the ship’s





“All right,” he said. “If Truella wants to go, I’ll go, too.” The prince of Boboland

shrugged his shoulders.

“I go where my captain goes!” squawked Roger, ever loyal.

CHAPTER TEN: OF THE TOLL OF SECRETS

An hour later, Ato emerged from the stairwell and was welcomed with open arms

by his friends. Roger especially was glad to see his old friend hale and hearty, with the

color back in his face, and a spring back in his step.

“Did you know,” he asked, his eyes glistening with happiness, “that’s old

Boglodore! The old man of the jungle! You know, the one with the umbrellaphant!”

Captain Salt chose to keep the revelation about the deaths of the Ozamandarins

from his old friend, and the others easily understood, joining him in keeping the secret.

After all, that was water that had passed under the bridge more than a lifetime ago.

Sally came up to the deck roughly fifteen minutes later, and asked Captain Salt to

come down to the hold, so he could help carry Arko and Orpa back up to the tank. Soon,

the two mer-folk were splashing happily in the water with Nikobo, who rejoined her old

friends in the water.

Back down in the hold, old Boglodore and Sally were busy treating Zipper’s claw.

The old witch doctor could see that the puncture wounds were infected, and that the

infection was spreading up his leg rather swiftly.

“This is from a kuray,” he said, his gritty voice rumbling in his throat as he

examined the wound. “You killed one, didn’t you?” He chuckled at Zipper’s unease. “Heh.

You Oz folks and your antiquated sense of right and wrong.” Pulling a feather from his

headdress, he said, “This is a feather from an ouatos. Do you think it’s wrong of me to

wear it?”

“I’m not from Oz!” retorted the ork, ruffling his saucer-like wings and ignoring the

witch-doctor’s question. He jerked back on his leg as Boglodore stuck his finger into the

open, festering wound, hissing in pain. “Ouch! Watch it there!”

Boglodore ignored him, shoving a pinch of spices into the wound. His grip on

Zipper’s claw was like an iron vise, and struggle as he might, the ork was unable to pull it



from the old magician. Boglodore had warned him, too, that if he should decide to kick, he

would decide not to heal his wound. So the ork did his best to control his reflex urge and

kicked away from the old man.

“You’re fixed,” announced Boglodore after waving his free hand over the wound

and chanting some ancient, unintelligible words. The opened skin tingled like it was being

pricked by a hundred needles, and the gashes sealed, leaving the flesh of his claw clean and

healthy. “Go up on the deck. Leave us alone. Go now.”

Sally stood aside as Zipper tried standing on his healed leg. She smiled as the ork

danced about, then dashed out of the hold, leaving her and Boglodore with only Tandy left

to heal.

Boglodore gazed at the young man suspended in the enchantment, his eyes welling

up with tenderness. “Tazander Tazah,” he said, reaching into the gelatinous substance to

touch Tandy’s hand. Tandy startled at the touch, but did not wake up. He turned to Sally

and said, “I need your full name. I need to wield the power it contains. This boy is very

special to me, and his wounds are deep. A sunburn this bad destroys not only muscle, but

vital organs as well.” He shook his head as he gazed upon the face he had long thought lost.

“My silly little boy. You never knew the pain of injury, of aging, of death. Your body was

not prepared to defend itself from the desert of your homeland. No matter. I will take care

of you, just as your mother and father asked me to so long ago.”

“Chrysalissium,” Sally said, in answer to Boglodore’s request.

“You mean a lot to him,” noted Boglodore, still touching Tandy’s hand through the

enchantment. “He cares very much for you, but you have not known each other long.” The

old man closed his eyes and continued feeling Tandy’s emotions through touching his

hand. “He is dedicated to the captain and the ship. This is his home. Aha… he has met the

good Sheik Tazander. I was wondering if that would ever happen. I’m glad things went

well… but he is very sad about it, too.”

“His parents asked you to look after him?” Tandy had told Sally some of his

history, of how Boglodore had kidnapped him and imprisoned him in the jungle on

Patrippany Island. He did not seem to have any affection at all for the old man, but when

Sally asked Nikobo about the witch doctor, Nikobo’s story was substantially different.

Apparently Boglodore had given the hippopotamus the gift of speech and thought, and



charged her with guarding Tandy while he was away. “I thought the Ozamandarins paid

you to kidnap Tandy and get rid of him…?”

“That is the story, yes,” sighed the old man. “When I took Tazander away from

Om, the people blamed me for kidnapping him. I saw no need to correct that.” Sally

regarded him carefully. Though he was old, and completely bald, Boglodore seemed lively

and youthful. His eyes, however, were faded and almost rheumy, and if she did not know

better, she would have thought he was blind. “Tazander is my godchild,” whispered

Boglodore. He jerked his neck to glare at her. “That is our secret! You will never reveal it

to him. When my work is done here, I will leave, and you may speak of me, but you will

not reveal this secret to him. I have killed for him, and I have made great sacrifices. Go

with Dorcas back to her country.” He paused, the anger from his face melting into sadness

and resignation. “Leave me alone.”

“Are you sure?” Sally gently placed her hands on Boglodore’s shoulders, shocking

the witch doctor with her touch. He felt her love and devotion for his godson, and her

kindness as well; but even more, he felt the weight of her fear, the heaviness of the words

Ma’Kra had spoken to her back in the village. “I see that I am not the only one who is

practiced in keeping things from Tazander.”

Sally winced and quickly pulled her hands away from Boglodore’s shoulders, the

old man’s words pricking at her conscience. The sangoma turned to look the sea fairy in

the face, his eyes peering right through her, stripping her soul bare. He then spoke the

words that Sally had come to fear: “‘ Destiny is extending its reach…grasping…in a place

where tears fall ceaselessly from a dire and dreary sky…and then… all goes black and

cold...’”

Sally felt warm teardrops stinging at her eyes, as she stared unbelievingly at the

medicine man. “How…?” The sea fairy hesitated, and then suddenly realized just how tired

she really was of feeling so alone. Throwing all pretenses aside, Sally unburdened herself

to the shaman. “What does it all mean? Can you tell me? Please?? Is Tandy going

to...to…”

Sally steeled herself and regained her composure, finding the strength to ask her

most perilous thought. “What is to become of me?”



Boglodore sighed and absently ran his fingers through his plumed collar.

“Prognostication…premonitions…are very strange and tremulous; rather vague and hazy,

hard to grasp. I see, rather sense, what Ma’Kra spoke to you. There is joy yet to be found

and great hardship as well. The one thing I can absolutely assure you of is that your life is

irreparably entangled with Tazander’s. In fact, just having met you…Tazander simply

knowing you…is perhaps the most significant happening of his long life.” Boglodore

looked at the man he still saw as a child and felt his heart heave. “Tazander has much to do

still; his fate untwines far, far into the future. If you are bound up with him thusly and

seeing how large you loom in his life, I think your future happiness is well assured. But

who truly can guarantee what is to come about?”

“Ma’Kra could not give me much clarity as well,” Sally said, glancing sidelong at

Tandy still suspended in the hold. “I take it you know her.”

“Yes, we are acquainted, but that is neither here nor there. Let me speak plainly, not

about some unclear future but from the bitterness of my own experience. The time you

have is now, the present. You are wasting precious time in needless consternation over

what may or may not come to pass. If you continue to do so you most assuredly will miss

out on what is here before you now.” The old man of the jungle sighed, the weight of the

years pressing in on him. “Do not live your life in regret. There is nothing worse. I know

this for a fact.”

Sally could not deny the wisdom of Boglodore’s words, but she wondered how he

could not see the truth for himself. “Witch doctor, heal thyself,” Sally stated simply yet

emphatically.

The shaman grimaced at the sea fairy and stared at her pointedly, yet he saw no

trace of cruelty in her face or words. “Maybe one day…perhaps you can visit me again,

some time,” he said, hinting at a possible change of mind. “But still, what I told you is my

secret alone to reveal to him, if and when I choose to do so. Just as you have to make the

choice of when to break your silence with him, so must I do the same. I respect your right

to decide when that moment should be. I ask that give me the same respect and honor my

right to decide when to tell him.”

Boglodore looked at his godson once more, the truth of his circumstance no less

painful than before. “He does not think fondly of me. To him, I was the old man of the





“There’s no one here to impress with fancy spells,” Tandy said as he sank to his

knees next to the old man of the jungle. Facing the opposite direction, but right beside him,

Tandy laid his hand on the old man’s shoulder. He did not look into his eyes. “Thank you,”

he said. “You can’t possibly know how good it is to see you again.”

Boglodore and Sally both were surprised. “I thought you hated me,” muttered the

old man, his hands clenched in his lap. “I felt no affection from you for me.”

“You’re wrong,” retorted the young man, gripping the old man’s shoulder tightly.

He tried to put into words what seeing the old man meant to him, but he could not. Instead,

he leaned his forehead onto Boglodore’s shoulder and said, “Thank you. Thank you for

helping me, and for not being dead.”

It took nearly an hour for Tandy, Sally and Boglodore to carry up onto the deck the

twenty watermelons, bushel of coconuts, and other supplies that he demanded in payment

for his services. Though Ato sputtered his objections, no one could say the price was too

high.

“Ye could have the umbrellaphant carry this stuff back to wherever ye’ve been

hidin’,” suggested Captain Salt, hoping to catch a glimpse of the creature he had last seen

eight decades before. “Ye did say it was still with ye, right?”

Boglodore turned a dark glare to the captain. “Yes, she’s still with me, down in the

caves. But she does not live. She died over half a century ago.” His words effectively shut

Captain Salt’s mouth, and he slunk back to the wheel, where he watched the others quietly.

“You should accompany Dorcas to Ogowan,” said the old man, much to Captain

Salt’s delight. “There’s an oasis along the way, but it is dangerous to set down there.

Dorcas is safe from it, but you are not. Stay away from it. I tell you this only because it is

halfway between here and your destination. Once you pass Big Enuf Mountain, you will be

in Ogowan. From there, sail east, and you will be able to make it home.” He walked up to

each person and animal, placed his hand on their heads, and spoke their names, telling each

of them to be well. “That is my gift to each of you,” he said as he finished with Arko, Orpa

and Nikobo. “Be well.” He turned to Dorcas and asked her to carry him back to his cave in

the foothills, where he first saw Tandy, Roger and Zipper scouting about for hebtuos and

ouatos. “You might find the flying reptiles at the oasis, but you will not find any of the

creeping birds. They are gone from this land.”



Boglodore took a cloth from one of his pouches and tossed it over the pile of goods

that had been brought up from the hold. It expanded and transformed into a large cage that

surrounded all the items, with a large hook on top. “Dorcas, if you will be so kind?”

The giant wooden woman took the cage in one hand and Boglodore in the other.

“I’ll be back shortly,” she promised.

“Visit me again, if you wish,” called the witch doctor as they departed. “Or maybe I

will come to see you one day… if I may? Goodbye.”

Tandy, watching them leave, thought he saw tears in the old man’s eyes. Squinting,

he tried to be sure, but as Dorcas turned and headed down the mountain, he lost sight of the

old man. He turned to Sally, who placed her arm around him and simply nodded. “Yes,”

she said, to his unspoken question.

“This here be yer family, boy,” came the gruff voice of Captain Salt from Tandy’s

other side. He looked appraisingly at Sally’s arm around his cabin boy and nodded in

approval. “It’s all good. Ye’ve not lost as much as ye might think.”

The news that they would be traveling with Dorcas to Ogowan was met with mixed

reactions from everyone, and though they knew that Captain Salt was excited to resume the

journey, none of them thought that it was for his own pig-headed desire to capture ouatos

or hebtuos. Indeed, Boglodore had informed them that there were no more hebtuos around

—that they were gone, presumably decimated to extinction by the awful kurays—but there

was at least hope of finding ouatos. “I know them kurays is a rare species,” said the

captain, “but I ain’t bringin’ none o’ them back.”

He explained to them what he knew about the vile and vicious creature, which he

had seen in Ma-Kra’s jungle hut. Since they were being open and honest with each other,

Tandy and Zipper admitted that they had encountered one at the deserted outpost, and that

it had killed a mother ouatos and two chicks. Everyone was somber at the realization, and

while they were comparing notes, Dorcas lumbered back up the mountain side to rejoin

them.

“So,” she said, once she was able to peer over the side railings again, “the doctor

says this ship can fly! That explains what it’s doing up here on a mountain top. Are you

stuck?”





“All he wanted was one tenth of the kingdom… the jungles,” mused Tandy,

thinking about the old magician. Though not living in an enchanted fairyland, Boglodore

had managed to stop his aging, and for that Tandy was grateful. “He just wanted them to

keep their promise to him.”

“Who?” asked Sally, who stood with him at the prow, watching Dorcas lead the

ship across the desert. The giant wooden woman looked like a child holding a balloon, the

way she held onto the rigging ropes of the ship. Occasionally there was a tug and the ship

shifted, pulled by Dorcas when she turned slightly, but for the most part—with the flat

desert—it was smooth sailing.

“The nine Ozamandarins,” explained Tandy. He told her about Didjabo, Lotho,

Teebo and the others, and their connivances and subterfuges, and how—with the help of

Boglodore—he and the crew of the Crescent Moon overthrew them, and restored him to

the throne… albeit temporarily.

Sally thought for a moment after hearing the story. “About Boglodore,” she started.

“He doesn’t strike me as someone purely evil, or purely good. In fact, I’d say he was more

good than evil.”

“It’s a grey area, I know,” replied Tandy.

“I’ll choose to believe he’s good,” said the sea fairy, smiling. “Especially after what

he’s just done.”

Tandy laughed. “It wasn’t free! He made off with more than half our supplies!”

Sally shook her head and sighed. “Was that too much of a price to pay? I thought

we all agreed that it was nothing compared to what he was able to do for us all. Besides, I

think he’ll need them just as much as we do. Nothing grows out here.” She placed her

hands on her hips and looked scoldingly at Tandy. “I think he did it out of the kindness of

his heart. He’s definitely a good man. I know it.”

Whatever it was that the witch doctor had done to them, all eleven of the crew and

passengers—Captain Salt, Ato, Tandy, Roger, Nikobo, Arko, Orpa, Sally, Truella, Zipper,

and Bobo—were feeling hale and hearty, and the heat of the desert—though still intense

and uncomfortable—no longer incapacitated them.

The Crescent Moon was larger than Dorcas, by far. Despite that fact, she was still

an imposing figure as she led the ship across the flat, barren desert toward Big Enuf





“Too bad they were the better years!” chortled Roger behind his wing to Zipper.

Both birds guffawed and nearly fell over laughing, but Bobo’s chagrin was tempered with

acceptance.

“I was enchanted. I was a goat. Went on an adventure with King Rinkitink and

Prince Inga. Was disenchanted. That’s it. The part of my life that I should have spent

learning how to sail, and how to get along with people… those years were stolen from me.”

“How long ago was that?” asked Orpa from the nearby tank.

“And how long were you enchanted?” added Arko, next to her.

Bobo shook his head. “Just about exactly a century ago, but people did not start

learning about it until almost a decade after it happened. I’ve since done my best to cover it

up, and stay out of people’s minds. I thought perhaps now was the time to go out and have

some new adventures, but I need to put away my past first.”

As Dorcas strolled leisurely across the desert with the enchanted former pirate ship

in tow, Bobo related to the passengers and crew his extraordinary adventures with Inga and

Rinkitink, and finished it up by noting that King Kaliko of the Nomes has long since been

an ally, and that he had a particularly bad toothache at the time, which influenced him to

act pretty badly.

“I wonder if it’s just Nome nature to be ornery,” asked Zipper, who admitted to

having experience dealing with the subterranean people. “Maybe he’s just a bad Nome

trying to be good.”

Bobo came to the Nome King’s defense. “Kaliko is actually a very, very good

Nome, who on occasion acted badly. While it may be in a Nome’s nature to be ornery,

contrary, or even argumentative, Kaliko’s true nature is good. The rulers of Pingaree and

Rinkitink have long since forgiven him that transgression, and gladly count him and his

people as staunch allies.”

“Until the next toothache,” muttered Roger to Zipper, while Nikobo groaned,

recalling bad memories of toothaches.

Night fell like a blessed blanket over the desert, and now, for the first time since

they set foot—or, rather, set keel—upon Tarara, the crew of the Crescent Moon could truly

enjoy the spectacular astronomy visible only in this part of the world. Unlike civilized,

industrialized nations and continents like America, Europe, or Asia, the mostly uncharted



and undiscovered dimensions outside the great known world offered a spectacular view of

the heavens, unmarred by pollution or airplanes, or jammed with digital signals. Not even

in Oz were some of the constellations visible that now made themselves known to the

travelers. Though Captain Salt, Truella and Bobo turned in for the night, Ato had grown

accustomed to staying up when most others were asleep. Tandy, Sally, Arko and Orpa

spent the night with Nikobo in the tank. The hippopotamus enjoyed the quiet, uneventful

night and slept peacefully, but the four mer-folk—one temporarily enchanted, one sea

fairy, and two ichthyoids—marveled at the night sky, very much like an ocean in itself.

“I bet one of those stars is Anuther Planet,” suggested Tandy, his arms draped

around Sally. “Or, at least, the star that Anuther Planet revolves around.” Noting that Sally

was clueless about his statement, he clarified. “It’s where Anetty, King Randy of Regalia’s

wife, comes from. Remind me to tell you about her some day.”

“Tell me now,” said the sea fairy, though soon both of them were asleep, well

before Tandy could even begin to remember the details about the Silver Princess and her

adventures with Kabumpo and the Red Jinn.

Arko and Orpa fell asleep in the tank too, and with Roger asleep in the crow’s nest

and Zipper asleep in his nest of ropes, soon only Ato and Dorcas remained awake. All

conversations stopped, and with the exception of a few noises from the kitchen, all was

silent as a living masthead led the Crescent Moon over Tarara.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: OF NECESSARY EVILS

Morning brought with it the burning sun and its unforgiving heat that they all had

come to expect from the mysterious continent. True to her word, Dorcas had walked

through the night, and came to a stop roughly a mile from the oasis.

The crew could see that there were palm trees, large boulders, massive bushes, and

the glint of something wet in the midst of all the lush flora. No movement could be seen,

but Captain Salt was hesitant to send Zipper or Roger out to investigate.

Dorcas shook her massive head and sighed. “There’s nothing good to be found

there,” she said sadly. “All that green… it’s just an illusion. A trap. Do you know what

kurays are?”



Captain Salt shuddered, remembering the filthy creature Ma’Kra had kept in a glass

cube, and the nasty one that Zipper and Tandy had killed. “Aye, lass. Yer sayin’ that there

be them nasty creatures down there?”

“That’s where they come from. That is their nest.”

The revelation was a shock to the crew, but none were as startled as the captain.

One of his duties—self-appointed, perhaps—as Royal Explorer was to procure and bring

back to Oz specimens of new creatures. The intent was to expand knowledge by learning

from the new creatures, and possibly to introduce them into an environment where they

would be happy and free for all time.

Captain Salt realized now that these creatures should only be in their native habitat,

and not introduced to a new one where they could potentially spread hatred and foulness.

Perhaps being in Oz could have a healing effect upon them. Perhaps they could have a

detrimental effect on Oz. But then he thought back on the words of Plotar, Inanna, Ma’Kra,

and Sheik Tazander; most especially the parting words of the witch doctor Boglodore.

From all reports, the kurays were responsible for the decimation and possible extinction of

the hebtuos, and though they had yet to encounter any live ouatos—other than the freshly

killed ones Tandy and Zipper found—there was still hope that the species of flying reptiles

could have eluded the kurays better than the ground-dwelling birds did.

“Everyone,” he called out to the assemblage on the deck. Ato and Truella were

below, in the kitchen, and Zipper and Roger had not yet returned, but he would make sure

to include them. “We need to have a meeting. I’ll not be runnin’ pell-mell into a mess. I

think I already done that, see? We’re here, and I need yer input… all o’ ya.”

The captain directed everyone to congregate around the tank, where Arko, Orpa,

Nikobo, Tandy and Sally already were. He gestured for Dorcas to come as near as she

could to the area, and that meant her head and shoulders towered down over them all,

casting a welcome shadow and respite from the glaring sunlight.

Bobo had helpfully run down to fetch Truella and Ato, so once they saw Roger and

Zipper winging it back to the ship, the captain felt he could begin with the birds’ report.

“The place is teeming with ’em!” announced Roger.

Zipper echoed with a “Boy, is it!”



“They’re everywhere, like roaches all over a rotten apple!” Roger shook his

feathers out and coughed. “And they stink ! They’re most dense around the center. There’s

a bunch of bushes there.”

“They’re clustered around it,” continued the ork. “Like swarming ants.”

Dorcas was asked to elaborate on what she had said earlier, about the kurays

originating from this spot. She told them all what she had learned over the years from

hearsay and from personal experience. The kurays had first appeared about a decade ago.

Their name derived from the sound they made when they were not forming words. What

words they did speak were offensive and garbled, as if they were given the gift of speech,

but without the mental capacity to properly use it, and enough vile animosity toward all

things to properly abuse it. The vicious creatures spread out from the oasis and eventually

made it to all corners of Tarara. Some even made it into Ogowan, but Dorcas could not

report that their condition improved at all from being in a fairyland, and thus the wooden

woman herself was responsible for rounding up all the kurays and removing them from

Kojo’s kingdom.

In Dorcas’s wandering, she came across the oasis and discovered that the kurays

spread out from this very spot.

“Let’s kill them all,” suggested the giantess. Her face was pleasant, and her voice

steady as she said the damning words. “Let’s do the world a favor and eradicate them.”

Seeing the shock and trepidation of the others, the captain had to choose his words

carefully, since the majority of the assemblage was inexperienced with killing. “It appears

t’me,” he began slowly, “that we’ve got us an opportunity here.”

Tandy had followed the conversation attentively, and anticipated the captain’s

change of heart. He and Sally were sitting on the edge of the tank, in human form, their

legs in the water. The cabin boy stood, holding onto Sally’s hand. “We can wipe out the

kurays… if we can find out… er…” He faltered, not knowing what to say.

“Where exactly they’re coming from,” finished Ato, darkly. He and Truella had

accompanied Bobo back to the meeting. He, like all of them, was uncomfortable with the

situation. “We have to do it,” he added, adamantly.

“Is it ethical, though,” began Orpa, looking around at the worried faces.

“…to wipe out a species?” finished Arko.



Sally picked up on the thread, adding, “Regardless of how vile and disgusting they

are?”

Dorcas continued. “This is the good deed I was talking about yesterday. The kurays

do nothing positive. They decimate other species—”

“Like the hebtuos,” suggested Bobo, helpfully.

“Yes, like the hebtuos,” agreed the wooden woman. “They pollute streams, but

thankfully they’re not dense enough to pollute the rivers. There aren’t many populated

areas, but they’ve been driven out of them for the most part. They don’t just spread out in

the desert, either. They stick to areas where they can find prey. I have seen them cross the

desert, but usually they seem to have a destination. They don’t really seem to wander. It’s

like they have some uncanny sense of direction; like they can smell prey almost hundreds

of miles away! If anything gets in their way, they’ll eat their way through it.”

“So, they decimate native species, right?” asked Nikobo. The hippopotamus had

been quiet up until this point, but she felt the need to contribute. “They eat all the creatures

they can victimize. They destroy the natural ecosystem, right? They stop life.”

“That’s about right,” agreed Dorcas sadly, her great wooden eyes looking

downward at the desert below them. “Augh!” She cried out suddenly. She raised her foot,

shook her leg, then stomped her foot again, cringing angrily as she did it. “Eight bells!”

“Look there!” said Zipper, craning his long neck over the railing of the ship. Down

below, they could see that Dorcas had just crushed two or three of the kurays that had

crawled up her wooden body while they stood there.

“Oh my goodness!” Truella, who had been leaning over the railing next to the ork,

pointed outward toward the desert, then ran her finger along a line down towards Dorcas’s

feet. While they had been speaking, a line of the vile creatures streamed out from the oasis

and came their way. “They’re like ants!”

Dorcas excused herself for a moment, and then did something that startled and

horrified all of them. She calmly walked toward the oasis, stomping kurays under her feet

the entire way, grinding them into the sand until she knew that they were completely dead,

leaving greasy, bloody, muddy smears in her wake. Once she reached the oasis, she kicked

a mass of sand toward it, scattering the gathering vermin, then scraped her feet on the sand



as she returned. “There. That’ll buy us some time.” She brushed her wooden dress as if it

had gotten wrinkled, then added. “They must have smelled you all during the night.”

“Or the food in the hold,” muttered Ato grumpily, folding his arms over his chest.

“Was it Tazander or Plotar that said we could kill them… as much as we wanted?”

Captain Salt muttered. He thought back to Ma’Kra’s words, about how they were not

always the way they were now.

“Someone actually said that?” asked Ato, the blood draining from his face.

“Someone actually encourages the killing of these creatures?”

“You yourself said this needed to be done,” retorted Nikobo. The normally

complacent hippopotamus was getting angrier by the minute.

“This is really bothering you, isn’t it?” breathed Orpa, trying to hug the large beast.

Arko, on the other side, mimicked her move, putting his scaly green arm over the hippo’s

back.

“Let’s just say I know a little bit about deforestation and losing one’s natural

environment.” Nikobo harrumphed, sending water spraying from her nostrils. “You forget:

I wasn’t always able to talk. I wasn’t always able to think beyond finding food and

sleeping. Boglodore gave me those abilities, and took me away from my people, who were

being hunted and killed. Our habitat was being destroyed. Boglodore saved me, but I can

never go home. It’s gone.” She lowered her voice to a near-growl. “We need to do this.”

“What’s that?” Captain Salt was surprised. “Why, ’tis our mission to bring

civilization to the countries we colonize fer Ozma! That means cuttin’ down forests and…

oh…” Captain Salt stopped in mid-rant, realizing now, for the first time in nearly a century,

how misguided his mission was. The weight of the revelation fell upon his shoulders,

sending the tall man to his knees. “Oh, my! We’ve—we’ve been…”

“Subjugating people unwillingly to Ozma’s protection, whether they want it or not?

Pulling out the rugs from under their natural rulers? Making promises we can’t keep?” Ato,

nearly furious, tapped his foot on the deck. “ Now you see what Tandy and I have seen for

ages. Roger’s been planting flags in new ‘colonies,’ and you know what they do with those

flags? I don’t know either, but I can bet they don’t keep them flying.”

Captain Salt was at a loss for words, not knowing where that tirade had come from.

He paled, sputtering, “Well, now… see here…”





could still feel her skin crawling from her close proximity to the dreaded kuray. The effect

was anything but pleasant.

“Listen very closely to what I am saying. Have any of you heard the word

parthenogenesis before? It occurs when something reproduces without a mate. It has been

known to happen even among my people.” The others looked at Sally as if she had entirely

lost her mind. “I assure you if just one kuray survives this could easily happen, especially

since the most loathsome of magic lies at the heart of this. Even though what we are

considering goes against all we may believe in, it must be done. It is a necessary evil.”

Without a single word of further dissention, plans were made for Dorcas to do the

majority of the work, stomping out as many of the vermin as she could. Nikobo insisted on

joining her, and soon the two large females were bashing their way toward the oasis,

eradicating a new line of kurays that had filed out toward them.

Bringing the ship a little nearer, Zipper flew Tandy, Bobo and Captain Salt down,

one at a time, to enter the oasis after Dorcas and Nikobo. Truella, Sally and Ato had helped

them prepare for the effort, insisting that they wear heavy boots, heavy pants, and thick

gloves, despite the heat. The old pirate ship yielded to them a trove of weapons that had

been long hidden in the bowels of the old barge. Each of them took with them a sword, two

pistols each on a belt, and an axe that they strapped on each other’s backs. Of course,

Zipper struggled with flying them down, but taking them one at a time on so short a

distance was something he was able to manage.

The ork and the Read Bird went along, too, acting as scouts, though Zipper

insisted that his strong feet could smash a kuray or two. It was Roger’s insistence the he

hold off that convinced the ork not to do it, since Roger reminded Zipper how he was so

grievously injured last time, from doing just that. They would keep to the trees and bushes,

and open clearings.

Sally, much to everyone’s surprise and appreciation, prepared a fire-bomb in the

ship’s kitchen with simple items from the pantry. Although it should have come as no

surprise—she was a sea fairy, after all, and versed in the ways of magic—the others still

felt uneasy about someone as sweet and gentle as Sally preparing something so angry and

destructive as a bomb. The concoction was placed in a bucket, sealed with wax.



“After all,” argued Truella, mostly to herself, “you’re a sea fairy, right? Isn’t water

your element?” She grabbed a handful of straw that she had removed from a broom,

wrapped it with twine to create a torch, and found some long matches to provide the ork,

whom she addressed next. “You won’t have a fuse, so you can toss this torch into the

bucket once you’ve lit it.” She bit her bottom lip, tears springing up in her eyes. “You

promise me that you’ll be careful!”

As the two women and the ork conferred, the sea fairy nodded. “You must be

careful. This is something like Greek fire. I learned it from Queen Aquareine, who learned

it from Anko. It will spread, as long as it finds something combustible. Even water won’t

put it out. Get to the sand, because sand is the only substance that it won’t burn. Make sure

Dorcas is out of there too. We can’t burn our new friend!”

The details of the fire bomb were shared with the other members of the landing

party, and all were made aware of the dangers. Fire that burned underwater was sure to

cause a good deal of damage.

Arko and Orpa were the only ones with nothing to do, so they remained at the

bulwarks, looking down on the scene as it unfolded before their eyes. From their vantage

point, they could see Dorcas treading through the oasis, and occasionally could glimpse

Nikobo nearby—both lumbering through and presumably smashing as many of the kurays

as they could. From Roger and Zipper’s report that the oasis was swarming with them, the

two large ladies were in for a lengthy task.

Truella, Sally, and Ato, watching next to them, anxiously thought over the

preparations they had made—soothing poultices for wounds and gouges, bandages for cuts,

even clean clothes to change into, and tubs waiting for the laundry to be washed in.

The plan was the carry the fire bomb into the heart of the oasis, plant it in a focal

point for the kuray swarm, and evacuate in the time it would take for the bomb to be

detonated. Dorcas and Nikobo were already searching for the heart of the swarm, and once

they pointed it out to the others and cleared a path to it, they would then position

themselves on the perimeter of the oasis, to stomp out any fleeing kurays that survived the

initial blast.

Captain Salt, Tandy and Bobo were on the ground with their gear. Zipper and

Roger took to the air and flew over the oasis. “Remember: do not land anywhere unless



you’re certain that it’s clear!” called Tandy out to the birds as they flew off. The ork

gingerly carried the bucket with Sally’s fire-bomb in one of his claws, ready to deposit it

once the location was secured. In another, he clutched the straw bundle and the matches.

The three men stood facing the oasis. They could see the massive wooden upper

torso of Dorcas as she smashed her way through the small area, occasionally bending down

to look under trees or boulders. They could hear Nikobo crying out in anger and frustration

as she, too, smashed through the area. It was likely that there were hundreds of the

creatures, though the only sign of them outside the oasis were the smashed and mangled

bodies that Dorcas had left in her wake.

“There,” Bobo pointed out, holding up his sword in the direction of the oasis. A

new line of the kurays was forming over the two lines that had already been smashed.

“Those creatures smell blood!”

“And they won’t give up, either!” noted Tandy, exasperated. “They’re heading

outward, but they’re eating their own dead!”

“Look, mates!” the captain announced. They turned their attentions quickly to see

that Dorcas was waving at them.

“I found it!” she shouted over the din of hissing and squishing.

A flutter of blue, green and red feathers suddenly erupted near her, from one of the

palm trees, and she was distracted by it. “A bird,” she commented, choosing to ignore it.

“It’s just a parrot! Not an ouatos!” she called out. “Ignore it. I found the central nest! We

can destroy it!”

Again, the parrot that she had disturbed fluttered around madly in the tree tops,

obviously distressed, but the men were too far away to make it out clearly.

“Maybe it’s an ouatos,” suggested the captain hopefully, disregarding what the

giantess had reported.

“It’s a parrot!” shouted Roger back to them, from another tree top. “I saw it earlier.

It doesn’t talk, though. Probably a mundane bird.”

Captain Salt, Tandy and Bobo began trudging forward into the bushes and trees.

“Keep Zipper in sight,” said Captain Salt, but none needed to be reminded that the ork

carried their greatest weapon.



Carcasses of the smashed kurays littered the ground of the oasis, but the three men

still had to use their weapons on the vile creatures that had scattered behind boulders and

under the greenery. Their foul odor permeated the area, and they all wished that they had

worn some sort of breathing protection—at least a scarf to cover their faces. They dared not

reach into a pocket to find anything for that purpose, since the ichor and gore of the foul

creatures ran freely on their swords, and spattered their gloves and arms.

“We’ll burn the clothes,” muttered Bobo in distaste, his princely manner reasserting

itself in the tense situation. “I will not be guilty of smelling this foul for any longer than

necessary!”

A squawk above them in a palm tree alerted them to Roger’s presence, but when

they looked up, all they could see was a glimpse of colorful feathers dropping behind the

vast palm fronds.

“That didn’t sound like Roger,” observed Tandy, sparing a moment to search for

the Read Bird.

“No matter, boy,” ordered the captain as they forged onward through the bushes,

striking down kurays with their pistols and swords. Bobo had resorted to using his sword as

a scythe, and was clearing a path through which they could more quickly advance.

“Over here!” Towering above them was Dorcas, a concerned look displayed on her

wooden features. Sagging from her arms like a child holding a puppy, Nikobo lolled

helplessly, moaning. “I need to get her out of here. The smell has made her sick! You need

to hurry before it affects you, too. It’s right here.”

Surging forward through the flora, Bobo, Tandy and Captain Salt found themselves

in a sandy clearing smattered with the mangled remains of countless kurays—some dead,

some dying, and some eating the others. With his pistol, Bobo began picking off several of

the cannibalistic creatures. Tandy and Samuel advanced to Dorcas’s feet, where they could

see a flat stone had been knocked over and cracked, and something oblong was sticking out

of the ground.

With her massive wooden toe, Dorcas nudged the mysterious object. “This is where

they were swarming from. It must be their nest. I think there’s a hole in it. They were

coming out of it. I shoved it down so that they couldn’t get out as quickly. That’s what we

need to destroy! It could very well be the source of the dark magic Sally spoke of.” Hefting



the heavy hippopotamus over a shoulder, Dorcas concluded, “I’m going back to the ship.

The poor thing’s going to be sick! Take care!”

“I’ll go with them, Captain!” added Roger, who had finally decided to show

himself. The Read Bird flew after the departing wooden giant.

The whirring propeller of the ork sounded nearby, reassuring them that their secret

weapon was at the ready.

Captain Salt, the most intrepid of the lot, strode forward through the carnage to the

object and the flat stone that lay partially over it. Having lived in an enchanted fairyland—

on a magical flying ship—for such a large part of his life, Samuel Salt had nearly forgotten

many of the things he had known before Lurline’s enchantment covered most of the

continent of Nonestica, and thus rendered him and his crew immortal, living charmed lives.

One of the things he had nearly forgotten was death, but having experienced it first-

hand, albeit with the foul kurays, the concept returned to him, and he knew the finality of

it. Seeing these objects skewed in the sand of the oasis, more memories came flooding back

to him.

“This be a coffin, boys,” he said in a low voice, whistling in surprise. “That be a

headstone.” He squinted at the flat stone, but it must have been exceptionally ancient, for

he could not make out the writing.

“Here, let me,” volunteered Tandy, peering in curiosity at the grave marker. He

read aloud, carefully, “‘Here lies… Gehanus Male… Maledictus, First and Premier’…” He

paused, shaking his head. “No, not that. Wrong word. ‘Foremost. First and Foremost. Do

not… Do not wake him. His sleep is… for the benefit… of all’.” He shrugged his

shoulders, acknowledging that the language on the stone was not the written word he was

familiar with. “I can read that. It’s Ot’Saman, or Aman. But that’s my native language. I

know those words.”

“Someone is asleep in there?” demanded Bobo, incredulous.

“I don’t think the word ‘sleep’ means the same thing to ye as it means to me,”

muttered Captain Salt, sneering in disgust. “What’s this, then?” He reached down and

picked up an item from the sand. “A ring?” The stone mounted on it was round, like a

pearl, but pitch black and crusty. The band was tarnished, too, but the captain stuffed it into

a coat pocket nonetheless without a second thought.



Samuel looked up, having seen once again the flurry of colorful feathers from the

corner of his eye. “Zipper! That be ye? Come out in the open!”

Within moments the ork had flown to the clearing, and was hopping around on the

patchy grasses to avoid stepping in smashed kuray guts. In one claw he rigidly clutched the

bucket containing Sally’s explosive mixture, and did his utmost to keep it steady. “Ready!”

was all he announced, looking fretfully about himself.

Standing around anxiously, the four of them were at a loss for what to do. Now that

they were in the presence of what was likely the origin point of the kuray infestation, they

needed to decide how to eradicate it.

“The explosive needs to go inside that coffin.” Captain Salt’s face was white and

sweating, and his eyes showed a good deal of trepidation.

“Why would anyone put someone to sleep in a box under the ground, anyway?”

demanded Bobo, poking at the casket with his sword. Captain Salt used his own sword to

push Bobo’s aside, shaking his head sternly at him.

“’Tis something from before yer times boys,” said the captain mysteriously. “It’s

more’n sleep. Pull out yer axes. This can’t end well.”

Taking the lead, Captain Salt hefted the axe from his back and used it to shove the

box. Though the wood was ancient, it was remarkably preserved, presumably from the arid

sand of the desert, despite being in the heart of an oasis. The wood gave a bit under the

pressure of the axe, but the box only shifted somewhat. Dorcas had shoved it under the

sand fairly well, and the grains secured it tight. Though the box had been buried for so

long, wind and other elements had likely brought it to the surface long ago.

Using the axes, and by rocking the box side to side, they were able to inch it up out

of the ground, exposing the opening that Dorcas had warned them of. A rancid reek wafted

out from the hole, and the instant they saw it, a horde of smaller kurays swarmed from it

and out at them. Captain Salt did his best to cover the hole with his axe, but Tandy could

only stare in astonishment at the creatures that came out.

“Those are babies!” he gasped, snapping out of his surprise and smashing the

smaller creatures beneath his feet. They had vestigial plumage on their small bodies,

resembling the poor creatures that he had seen the kuray eating back at the deserted



outpost. Putting the pieces together, Tandy gasped aloud. “Those are ouatos. Or hebtuos!

Those are the creatures we’re searching for!”

“Impossible, lad!” shouted Captain Salt, still holding the broad side of his axe

against the hole and smashing infant kurays with his heavy boots. “Those are them kurays

what Ma’Kra showed me; what you and Zipper killed back at the outpost.” He recalled

once again Ma’Kra’s words, that the kurays were not always like they were now.

“Perhaps…”

“But look at them! Zipper! Look!”

The ork, who had swiftly jumped up and was hovering nearby, shared Tandy’s

confusion. Indeed, the smallest of the creatures looked exactly like the mother and babies

that the kuray was eating. Some of the creatures were larger, older than the rest, and though

they still had feathers, those were few and far between, and the biggest ones had no

feathers at all. The life cycle of the kuray was immediately clear to everyone. The creatures

were befouled hebtuos or ouatos, poisoned by whatever it was inside the coffin.

Thinking lightning fast and matching his words to his thoughts, Tandy cried out,

“The creeping birds, the flying reptiles. They laid their eggs in there. They like to lay their

eggs in dark spots in the ground. The sleeper, Maledictus… poisoned them. Defiled them!

That’s what happened to the species. They evolved, and they killed off whatever remnants

of the old species were left. That’s it!”

Ignoring Tandy’s rant, Captain Salt strained to hold the axe in place from the

onslaught of tiny creatures within the coffin struggling to get out. The smallest ones were

able to squeeze past, but their fate met them as soon as they touched open ground.

“Ork!” screamed Captain Salt. “Bucket! Now!”

Zipper hovered as close as he dared to the upturned coffin, holding out the bucket.

It was Bobo who grabbed it, and held it ready.

“Stand back,” ordered the captain to the prince. He gestured to Tandy, who stood

ready. “Chop that hole open as soon as I move me axe out of the way. You,” he ordered

Bobo, “shove that bucket in there best as ye can. Zipper,” he said to the hovering ork, “get

that match and a torch ready. Soon as we’re out of the way, you toss the fire in there.”

Zipper carefully held the makeshift torch and the matches in two of his four claws.





they kept running. All three of them tossed the axes aside, as they were ruined by the gore

from hundreds of slaughtered kurays.

Suddenly, with a loud squawk that startled them enough that they dropped more of

their weapons, the mysterious bird they had glimpsed earlier sailed out of the oasis,

following them at breakneck speed as they ran toward the ship. Looking up, Captain Salt

recognized it as a parrot, a brilliantly plumed bird with a red body, white face, black and

white beak, and wings streaked with orange, yellow and bright blue. It dashed out into the

desert toward Dorcas and the ship, leaving the three men behind.

As planned, Sally’s concoction spread outward from the epicenter of the blast,

immolating trees, bushes, and anything in its path, decimating the kurays that scrambled

about, stunned or smashed. Within the span of fifteen minutes, the entire oasis was

embroiled in a blaze that rivaled the heat of the sun beating down on them. The ship and

the wooden woman were far enough out in the desert to be safe from the conflagration, but

none of them could see Zipper, who had been pushed by the blast in the opposite direction.

The parrot had reached the ship already, and had flown to the riggings, where it tangled

itself in the ropes, struggling to pull its wings back toward its sides, and disappearing from

their sight aboard the Crescent Moon.

The three men slowed to a walk as they left the burning bushes and trees behind

them. The crackling of the fire was joined by the crashing of trees as they fell, and a

massive cloud of black smoke rose skyward. The welcome whirr of Zipper’s tail alerted

them that their companion had survived the explosion, and when they looked up, they

could see the ork using up the last of his strength to fly back to the ship.

Panting, Tandy fell to the sand and turned around, facing the blazing oasis. As palm

trees fell, they sent up crackling plumes of flame, and the screams of dying kurays still

pierced the roar of the inferno.

Captain Salt and Bobo fell to the sand next to him, panting and sweating. Bobo was

gagging at the rancid smell that came from their clothes and weapons.

“You realize,” started Tandy, tossing his remaining sword away from him into the

sand. He sighed, then pulled off his shirt and threw it in the same direction. He repeated,

“You realize, don’t you, that we’ll have to… er…”



“Strip,” groaned Bobo miserably. He fell backward onto the sand, writhing as if in

agony. “As if my dignity hadn’t suffered enough!”

Silently, Captain Salt kicked off his boots and threw them out into the sand toward

the oasis. Removing the blackened ring from the coat pocket, he kicked the last of his

garments away. Resignedly, all three of them followed suit until they retained nothing but

their undershorts. The sand of the desert burned against the skin of their feet, but for the

two sailors whose feet were tough and worn from years aboard the ship, the discomfort was

minimal. For Bobo, however, it was sheer agony. The prince cried out in pain with each

step, and soon their dignity had to take another dip as Tandy and the captain were forced to

take each a side, and allow the prince to lean on them for support. To add to the effort, they

had to practically carry Bobo, who danced about on the sand miserably, cringing with each

footfall.

The rope ladder that led upward to the ship was a welcome sight, but none of them

could muster the strength to climb it. Thankfully, Dorcas was easily able to lift them all up

to the deck, where they made all haste to get to their cabins before their dignities could

suffer any further blows.

Before Captain Salt shut the door on his cabin, he managed to croak an order to

Ato, who dutifully took the wheel. “Sail! Get us away from here. On to Ogowan. I don’t

want to see another grain of sand when I come out of this cabin!”

The basins for washing the soiled clothes went unused, though Sally made sure to

follow Tandy to his quarters to make sure he got clean.

CHAPTER TWELVE:

The Crescent Moon sailed across the northern Ama desert uneventfully for several

days, with Dorcas trudging silently ahead of it, leading it by the anchor chain like a pet.

Captain Salt made good on his word, though he did come out of his cabin after a day, if

only to have meals, greet the others, and find out about the parrot that had escaped the oasis

on the ship.

The bird was beside itself with joy, though its vocabulary seemed to be fairly

limited. It kept screeching joyously, and the captain seemed to take a liking to it. On the

few occasions he would deign to say much, he commented, “A parrot be the perfect bird

for a pirate captain!” which upset Roger to no end, and the Read Bird refused to come





“Release me from my slumber,” a voice hissed in his dream. The gaudily colored

parrot would invariably appear right at that time, and startle the dreamer into waking.

Tandy looked about himself, seeing the sea fairy, two mer-folk, and hippopotamus

peacefully sleeping in the tank with him. Sighing, he flapped his temporary tail and stirred

the water, eventually falling back to sleep.

Big Enuf Mountain emerged finally from the horizon, and truly lived up to its

name. Dorcas easily trekked over its northern slope, ascending no higher than halfway up,

dragging the flying ship along behind her. After the mountain, she led the Crescent Moon

through what she informed them was the Black Forest, and then out into the kingdom of

Ogowan, where finally things had brightened up a great deal, reminding all the travelers of

the home countries that they had departed so long ago.

The colors were vibrant everywhere. Green lawns surrounded happy homes.

Children played in fields, on trees, and with animals. Merchants peddled their colorful

wares to happy locals who looked up and cheered to see their old friend Dorcas leading a

flying ship toward King Kojo’s castle on the coast.

They passed through towns and villages, each one the same as the other, with happy

locals gladly greeting the giant wooden woman and the ship she led on a chain.

At the palace, the visitors and returning Dorcas were greeted by the wooden

woman’s old friends.

“Eight bells!” Dorcas made a grand effort to appear cheerful, but her spirit had also

suffered a great blow from the traumatic experience in the desert. She forced a smile upon

her wooden features as her old friends Ketch the jester and Pogo the page erupted out onto

the balcony. She tugged the Crescent Moon gently near, so that the passengers and crew

could meet the jolly old king himself. Presently, led by the great wise dog, Kojo himself

emerged onto the balcony, followed by a small army of castle staff and courtiers.

“Ha ha ha! Dorcas, my dear! I knew the magic lantern had to be mistaken!” The

rotund monarch of Ogowan mopped the sweat off his brow and smiled genially up at his

old friend. “How could there be danger, with you here?” He waved at his page, Pogo, who

ducked into the castle and emerged with a glowing lantern.

“See? Even now, the glow is dim. That means that whatever danger there was, it’s

passing!” The boy who held the lantern looked dubiously at it, then smiled hopefully at the



wooden giant. “It’s been glowing for days now, and at one point it was really bright. That

was a couple of days ago. Now it’s just a dull glow. Hopefully it’ll go dark, and everything

will be all right.”

“My friends,” Dorcas interjected, gesturing to the crew and passengers lined up

along the bulwarks of the ship as it floated in mid-air near the balcony. “Allow me to

introduce Sir Samuel Salt, captain of the Crescent Moon, Royal Explorer of Oz, with his

intrepid crew, and most honored passengers.”

Kojo’s attention turned to the majestic flying ship that Dorcas had towed in with

her, and laughed happily. “Why, so it is! Welcome! Welcome to Ogowan!”

Introductions were exchanged; Ato, Nikobo, Tandy, Roger, Sally, Arko, Orpa,

Truella, Zipper and Bobo met the king, Ketch the jester, Pogo the page, the Wise Dog—

who wagged his tail and lolled his tongue—and the other inhabitants of King Kojo’s castle.

The only ones not in attendance were Captain Salt and Polly the parrot, so Tandy dashed to

the captain’s cabin and rapped on the door to let the captain know his presence was

required.

Captain Salt, the parrot on his shoulder, came out of his cabin dressed in his finest,

his black tri-corner hat on his head with two bright feathers on each side, his great-coat

clean and bright, snappy leather boots, and a red sash around his vest. On his outstretched

hand perched Polly, chattering lowly and darting her eyes around at everyone.

“This is the captain!” said Dorcas with a smile, gesturing at the brilliantly-hued

duo.

The captain strode to the bulwark, where he stood between Ato and Bobo, and

nodded imperiously at King Kojo and his court. “Pleasure t’be here, yer majesty,” he

rumbled, a stern look upon his face. He bowed, at which the parrot flapped her brilliantly

colored wings to steady herself on Captain Salt’s gloved finger. “This be Polly, freshly

rescued from the desert.”

The Wise Dog of Ogowan growled low, baring his teeth. The hair on his back rose

up as he arched it. The magic lantern Pogo held in his hands glowed a bright red, tinting the

page and the others on the balcony with its crimson hue.

His eyes bulging, Pogo thought quickly and ducked inside the castle, hiding the

lantern from view before anyone could ask for an explanation. Silent glances were passed







kitchen. “Dorcas, dear,” he called out to the wooden giant, “would you kindly take the ship

around to the back, to the kitchen entrance? I’ve sent Ketch and Pogo to have two carts of

fruit, vegetables, bread and roasts ready as soon as possible.” To Ato, he called out, “I

presume you have storage? You can store cooked meat?”

“Meat?” Captain Salt echoed, glad his old friend had interjected.

“Definitely! Thank you, your majesty!” Ato laughed, waving at the king and his

courtiers. Already Dorcas was pulling the ship behind her away from the balcony.

The Wise Dog’s ire settled, and he wagged his tail once again as the giant wooden

woman pulled the ship from their sight.

“It’s the captain of that ship, isn’t it, boy?” asked Kojo to the dog. He knelt down

on the balcony and scratched the dog’s head. “The others seem all right. Especially their

cook. Nice fellow, eh?” He shuddered. “Something about that captain, though…”

The Wise Dog licked Kojo’s chin in agreement.

Arko and Orpa, seated upon Nikobo’s back, joined the hippopotamus as she went

back to the tank. Truella, Ato, and Sally went down to the kitchen and hold to make room,

and Captain Salt and the parrot returned to the captain’s cabin. Tandy, Roger, Bobo and

Zipper remained on deck. The four of them could easily handle two carts of provisions, and

were ready to be of use. They waited with the mer-folk and Nikobo by the tank.

“Something’s going on,” muttered Bobo to Tandy and the two birds once the others

had gone about their business. He looked over to see Tandy sketching in a large notebook

that he had failed to notice before. “Are you drawing?” He came close to the former king of

Ot’Sama and peered at the paper. “That’s good. But how come I’ve never seen you draw in

here before?”

Tandy turned a melancholy gaze to Arko, Orpa, Nikobo, Zipper, Roger and Bobo.

“Something is going on. Something’s wrong with the captain. It’s that bird.” He flipped the

pages in his notebook to a blank sheet and began drawing. His hand was amazingly steady,

given the tilting and rocking of the ship as it flew, and Bobo was able to see a picture of

Captain Salt emerge on the paper, with the parrot perched on his hand. Tandy’s eyes

narrowed as his hand flashed across the paper, and by the time Dorcas had brought them to

the castle’s rear entrance, the picture had been fully sketched.



“Polly’s the cause of this; I know it.” Tandy snapped the sketchbook shut and

handed it to Roger, who snapped his beak upon it and flew it up to the crow’s nest, where it

had apparently been stored. Answering Bobo’s question, he said, “Yes, I’m drawing. I’ve

drawn everything that’s been going on. Well, almost everything. Some things I can’t

draw… won’t draw.”

“Like your dreams?” asked Sally, who had quietly come up behind him from below

deck. Tandy raised his eyebrows in surprise, but the sea fairy explained. “I know you’ve

had nightmares ever since the oasis.”

“I’ve had them, too,” muttered Bobo, casting his eyes downward.

“Me, too,” croaked Zipper, hanging his head. “The coffin… a hand…”

A giant wooden hand appeared on the deck, holding a small-sized wooden cart. She

deposited it on the deck. “The cook says he needs the cart back, so please go ahead and

unload it.” She smiled hopefully at the creatures on the ship. “I like you folks. I’m going to

miss you. Are we friends? I hope I can see you again.”

Sally jumped up and clapped her hands. “Oh, yes! Dorcas, we’re so glad you’re our

friend!” Arko, Orpa, Nikobo and the others echoed the sentiment; even Bobo nodded and

smiled.

“We’d have been lost without you. Or worse!” the prince of Boboland called out,

bowing.

“We can swim out here to visit you on our own,” said Arko, leaning up on the edge

of the tank. “We’ll bring lots of friends!”

“It’ll take a while, but we love long trips,” added Orpa, next to her mate.

“And we can tag along with the whales or dolphins, who are always traveling

around the world. It’ll be fun!” The merman smiled, glad to know they were welcome back

in the small kingdom on the coast of Tarara.

“We’ll come back, Dorcas,” promised Tandy. “At least, I will. And Sally?” He

looked at the sea fairy, who nodded excitedly.

Dorcas’s wooden face turned dark, and her smile faded. “Don’t bring the bird,” she

whispered. Her voice, normally loud, was so quiet that they could barely hear it. Her

whisper was like the wind blowing between trees in an ancient forest; barely audible. “And

help the captain.”



Bobo, Zipper, Tandy and Roger unloaded the cart quickly, stacking boxes, crates,

jars, barrels and sacks on the deck as neat as they could. There were at least ten sacks of

potatoes, at which Tandy and Roger groaned, but they gratefully accepted the gifts. After

they unloaded the first cart-ful of provisions, Dorcas lifted it down to the ground. Within

moments, she carried the same cart up again. This time, it was loaded with waxcloth-

wrapped bundles that smelled temptingly of roasts, along with several more sacks of fruits

and vegetables. The crew made short work of the load, and soon Dorcas retrieved the

empty cart.

Dorcas faltered, not knowing what to say to her newfound friends. “Take care of

yourselves,” she choked, her bottom lip trembling. “I’ll miss you all. Please say goodbye to

Captain Salt for me. The captain was nice, before… well, he was nice.” She pointed to the

ocean back on the other side of the castle. “There’s the way home. Sail due east. You’ll

find your way, won’t you?” As she spoke, the living figurehead dragged the floating ship

out over the water and into the bay. “This is the Rolantic. Beyond that is the Nonentic. I

suppose the Nonestic is beyond that. Be well.”

Tandy stood at the wheel, pressing and twisting a series of knobs that gently took

the ship down to the water. Bobo, Zipper and Sally began carrying the provisions down to

the kitchen, and were joined by Ato and Truella, who waved their goodbyes to the wooden

giant. “Goodbye, Dorcas. You are a good friend.” Ato leaned over the deck as far as he

could, waving. “I hope we’ll see you again someday!”

The Crescent Moon touched down on the gently heaving waters of the Rolantic

Ocean, their long, arduous flight over Tarara finally at an end. A strong wind filled the

sails, and with the help of the enchanted ship, they were soon moving at a steady pace

toward the eastern horizon.

One look back showed them Dorcas half-submerged in the water off the coast,

waving at them as they left.

“Ozma can help him,” said Ato to Tandy, even though he was not involved in the

earlier conversation. He could not help but notice the change in his old friend’s attitude.

“Whatever’s got Sammy down, I’m sure she’ll make things right.”

“I think we’ll all need some help,” muttered Tandy as he steadily held the wheel.

He looked to the captain’s cabin and sighed.



“Home,” muttered Bobo, a large bundle of potatoes in his arms. He was carrying it

below deck to deposit in the hold. “I can’t wait to get home.”

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Royal Explorers of Oz_2 (1)