Give Me Hell; It's A Merrier Place

[Plink]

Plink's footpaws thumped rapidly against the planks of a staircase as she ran up the steps two at a time. This stretch of tunnel was poorly lit and she could barely see, but she remembered which stairs were crooked from the rest.

That was what made her the best of all the runners. After just a week, she remembered the shortest path from officers' quarters to kitchen, from the harbor up to the foul-smelling entrance out onto the crater. Plink could deliver an order anywhere on the mountain in half the time it took some of those other beasts - and she never forgot any of the words in the message, either.

Earsplit knew she was the best, too. That's why he'd patted her on the back and grinned this morning. Quickest runner I ever had! And then he'd assigned Plink to the most important duty a runner could perform.

The little rat scurried through the maze of natural tunnels and rough-hewn chambers, dodging around pirates without really seeing faces. She spied the red sashes - just like the one she now wore belted over her roughly-mended shirt - and the color filled her with a warm, solid feeling.

Some days she looked past the red sashes to the crew colors everybeast wore, the signal that marked a pirate as belonging with a certain ship. The Red Tempest. Gutcutter. The Tidereaver. With The Silver Maiden sunk and so few left alive, the last of Captain Ancora's pirates could hardly call themselves any kind of crew.

Today, though, Plink saw the red sashes and felt right. She might not have a crew yet, not exactly, but she belonged here.

Plink leapt up a last short flight of stairs, passed between the guards stationed at the outer door, and stopped before the grand door at the end of the hall. She licked her lips, steadied her breathing, and knocked.

"Enter."

His voice was just as it had sounded through the mask that night outside the mountain. After the hare had stopped screaming and Plink had been certain she was about to die.

But she hadn't. And now, against all odds, she was here. Plink swallowed hard and entered Captain Blade's office.

The room was lit with scattered candles in ornate sconces, and a thick rug softened the floor. Paintings hung on three of the four walls, and on the fourth there was a second door, firmly shut. The captain himself sat behind a massive desk, scrawling out a missive. He looked calm but alert, his handsome eyes fixed on the task at hand. Plink stood up straight and waited to be acknowledged the way Earsplit had taught her, but inwardly she struggled to keep from squirming.

At last, Captain Blade set aside his quill and looked at her. "Ah! Miss Plunk, isn't it?"

"Er- Plink, Cap'n."

"Ah, Plink, my apologies. Captain Ancora tells me you stowed away on the Waverunner ship t' get here. That must have taken some nerve."

Plink remembered just what Ancora had thought of that decision, but she stood a little straighter anyway.

"Your father had nerve, too."

"Y'mean you really knew him? Er- Cap'n?" Plink ducked her snout back down. She'd been trying not to think much of her ma's stories over the past week. It had been easy in the hustle of every day to set those stories aside. Easy to set a lot of things aside.

"Aye. I knew him well." Captain Blade, smiling faintly, rose and slowly circled the desk to lean against the front. "Probably better than any other pirate could know him. Scarcrab had? a special kind of nerve that most beasts didn't understand. He worked hard, and he wasn't afraid to get his paws dirty for his king." The ferret folded his arms, careful not to jostle the missive he held. "I wonder if I can expect the same loyalty from his offspring."

Plink nodded vigorously. "Aye, Cap'n! I won't ever let you down, sir!"

"I believe you mean that, Miss Plink." Captain Blade regarded her steadily, the keen glitter in his eye the only sign of what he might be thinking. His paw snapped out, offering the missive. "If you would, please read this back..."

Plink's stomach plummeted but she made herself step forward and take the parchment, unfolding it carefully and scanning the symbols. She licked her lips and stole a glance up at the waiting captain, then focused hard on the writing as if staring would make its meaning clear.

"You're looking at that upside down."

"Oh." Plink turned the parchment around, but her ears scorched and her face radiated heat beneath her fur.

Captain Blade watched her a moment longer, then tugged the missive from her paw. His eyes still glittered but his expression was stern. "A weakness well hidden is hardly a weakness at all, but there are some things you simply can't fake."

"I? I'm sorry, sir?"

Blade waved a paw and commenced folding the missive into tidy thirds. "No matter. The wordin' sounded excellent in my head - no doubt it'll suffice." He held out the parchment to her again, smiling now. "And so will you, I think. Carry this to Captain Julia Burnet of The Deathblow down on the harbor and wait for her reply. Quickly now."

"Aye aye, Cap'n!"

Plink took the parchment and hurried back the way she'd come, down through the dim tunnels and stairways.

By the time she reached the harbor, she was breathless but her mind had quieted enough that she could marvel at the soaring rock ceiling overhead. The harbor was perhaps her favorite place. It wasn't terribly large as harbors went, but everything was contained within a single vast cavern. Daylight glittered through a yawning hole across the lagoon, casting all the ships in stark sideways light, and a fresh breeze drifted in off the ocean.

Plink dodged the beasts at work hauling scaffolds and supplies along the boardwalk, asking all around until a rat pointed her toward the ship she was looking for. The Deathblow was a worn vessel, its black trim scored from blades and claws and bleached by long seasons in the sun. It was massive, not quite the size of The Zephyr but not too far off, either.

When Plink scurried up the gangplank, she found a handful of rats and weasels loafing around an open barrel, peering inside where something thrashed and clicked. The fur on the back of Plink's neck bristled.

"Two on th' spotted devil."

"Oh! Don' let 'im get yer eye like tha- ohh!"

The beasts roared in dismay or amusement and coins exchanged paws rapidly. Plink tightened her claws on the missive and stepped closer.

"Oy! I got a message fer Cap'n Burnet." A couple of the pirates shot her glances and, seeing she didn't wear any crew colors, snidely looked away. Plink clenched her teeth. "It's important! Where's yer cap'n?"

A weasel eyed her and nodded his snout toward the door into the forecastle. "She be in 'er cabin, an' she ain't ter be disturbed. If somebeast got ter go in there an' get flayed, it ain't gonna be any o' us, I'll tell ye that."

Plink glared at the weasel, then at the door. At her hesitation, the pirates chuckled darkly.

"Go on, mousey," said one of the rats, revealing a half-missing tooth as he grinned. "Din't ye say how yer little paper be real important?"

"I ain't no mouse," Plink sneered right back. She turned and marched toward the door, pretending not to hear their mutters and the scrape of coins.

She rapped twice and restrained the urge to back up as a shadow loomed behind the frosted glass. The door cracked open and an expressionless reptilian face filled the gap. Plink had never seen a monitor before but she was certain that was what this beast was. Her hackles prickled.

"Cap'n Burnet?"

The monitor's eyes narrowed fractionally, and then he spoke in a voice that was definitely masculine. "No."

"Er? I need to see the captain."

"I am captain," he said, holding out his claw for the letter. "Give me thisss."

Plink took a step back and eyed him carefully. "You ain't Cap'n Burnet. Cap'n Blade said I was to deliver this to Cap'n Burnet and wait fer a reply."

"Oh for pity's sake, Zorba," huffed a female voice from inside the cabin. "You do realize you're wasting our time as well as the runner's?"

A few other voices grumbled in agreement. The monitor fixed Plink with his blank stare and stepped reluctantly to one side, leaving just enough space for her to squeeze past him.

The cabin was full of plush furnishings and glittering trinkets and the lavender perfume on the air almost concealed the ship's particular sour aroma. All about the room sat beasts of different sorts. A searat with a braided beard, a fisher wearing a huge feathered hat, a stoat with a bladed hook where his paw should have been. Plink recognized Captain Wraithspit by the red dye in his fur, and she realized all of these beasts were the captains of different ships.

The monitor shut the door behind her and Plink scanned their faces. "Cap'n Burnet?" Her voice sounded very small.

The wildcat seated behind the desk blinked languidly. "That would be me." She held out a paw, all soft fleshy pads and velvety fur. Yet, when she took the missive, her unsheathed claws cut tiny holes in the parchment.

Plink stepped back while Captain Burnet read over the note, sighed, and began scratching out a reply. The other captains chatted in low voices as they waited as well, and Plink hungrily caught snippets of what they said.

"?were about five season back. Never seen a storm like 'er?"

"?that salt-addled scum-sucker Greyjaw could sooner woo a mermaid than convince that ship t' sail?"

"?weird lass, if ye ken, but she'd a face on 'er t' make th' stars weep fer jealousy."

The bearded rat was watching her and he spoke abruptly, in a louder voice than the rest. "Ye be Scarcrab's little darlin', ain't ye?

Plink smiled and her half-healed tail curved upward. "Aye, sir! Cap'n Scarcrab was me da."

He nodded, and a few tiny bells woven into his braids tinkled at the movement. "Aye, ye've his look - 'cept fer that tail. Scarcrab had a real knack fer keepin' his own clear o' trouble."

A couple of the other captains laughed at that, and Plink managed a game smile, though she didn't quite grasp the joke.

"Enough of that, Petre, you wretched thing." Captain Burnet put a precise crease in her reply and held it out to Plink. Her smile was soothing in the way of a well-rehearsed song. "Hurry along now. Don't want to keep our valiant leader waiting."

"Aye, sir." Plink tried to take the note, but the wildcat didn't let go. Her yellow eyes were half-lidded but still burned.

"I'm a ma'am, or is that unclear?"

"Er? no, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am."

"So you are," Captain Burnet said, then released the note. Plink scrambled to leave.

Back in Captain Blade's office, she stood by and caught her breath while he glanced over the note. A faint smile played across his muzzle and, when he looked up at Plink, he steepled his claws beneath his chin.

"It seems you're as fast as Mister Earsplit says. Julia is rarely inclined to respond to my invitations so quickly. You must have made an impression on her."

Plink swelled with pride, but a doubt niggled at the back of her head. With a shrug, she deflated. "It wasn't anythin' I did. She just wanted to get back to talkin' with those other captains is all."

The words hung in the still air of the office. "Probably," Captain Blade said. "Julia does enjoy her talks. What seemed to be the topic of the day?"

"I didn't hear much of anythin'? just sommat about a beast named Greyjaw."

The captain sat perfectly still, waiting.

"Er? that he's a scum-sucker an' he'd more likely woo a mermaid than sail some ship."

"Well, Captain Greyjaw has his own perfectly seaworthy ship," he said with a wry frown, "so that doesn't make much sense at all, does it?"

Plink smiled, relieved for no reason she could put a claw on. "No, sir!"

"Fantastic work, Miss Plink." Captain Blade's eyes glittered and he smiled a faint, lopsided grin that made Plink's ears go warm. "But enough chit-chat. I've more urgent errands for you. That is, if you think you're up for it."

"Aye, Cap'n! You can count on me!"

Plink delivered a message to a thin, nervous notary in an office near the sulfur mines. It was as close as she had come to the crater, and the stench was so strong that she nearly retched as she waited for the weasel to scribble out a hasty reply. Then it was down to the kitchens to place the captain's lunch order - roasted fish with dill and garlic and white wine. Fishlug held his spoon at the ready as if he meant to rap her head as he'd done several times before, but this time he hesitated. Something had changed. It seemed Captain Blade's personal messenger commanded a measure of respect.

Plink narrowed her eyes and sneered. "An' the captain don't want you overcookin' it any, either."

"Why ye impert'nent liddle-"

Plink dodged his swing and darted out the door. A pan struck the wall just behind her and clanged loud enough to make her ears ring. Perhaps things had not changed that much, after all.

The day passed quickly, but the blur of activity did not quiet Plink's worries as it had for the past week. The vial of perfume remained undiscovered in her hidden pocket, chafing her side more than usual today. Vera had been absent from the kitchen, and even though she was probably just on some errand of her own, it made Plink anxious. She hadn't had a chance to talk to the fox since the day she'd asked after Scully and the wait was worse than sand under her fur. Plink had even tried to go down to the slave quarters one evening when she was supposed to be at dinner, but the guards had turned her away.

Now, though, Plink was in a position to ask the one beast who was sure to know. If there had been some misunderstanding and Scully really was with the slaves, Captain Blade could set things right. It was just a matter of waiting for the right moment to ask him.

It was after she had returned with a status update from the harbormaster that Plink got her chance. The captain read through the report with a satisfied tilt to his mouth and, when he finally set it aside, he looked at Plink as if surprised she was still there.

"The dinner hour will come shortly. If you hurry, you might get a good place in line."

"Aye, Cap'n?" Plink licked her lips and lingered where she stood by the door.

Captain Blade watched her steadily, his mouth curving up at one corner. "But first you want to ask me a question."

"A-aye, Cap'n."

The ferret rose from his desk and approached slowly across the room, paws linked behind his back. "You want t' ask me where Mister Craws has gone."

Plink gaped at him. She had the sudden urge to yank the door open and flee, but quashed it. "Aye, sir! How'd you know that?"

"Captain Ancora told me the two of you are quite close." He stopped just out of arm's reach and tipped his head to one side. "It seemed only a matter of time before you brought the matter t' me, since Mister Craws is clearly no longer with us."

Plink leaned back against the door and dug her claws into the wood, staring up at the captain. "You mean? You mean Scully's?"

"Dramatics aren't your strong suit, Miss Plink. Of course not. I only meant that he's no longer here in the Dead Rock. I sent him t' the mainland on a top-secret mission for me." The ferret lifted his chin, and his eyes glinted in contrast to the dark fur of his mask. "He won't return for some time, I'm afraid."

Plink couldn't look away. For all that his words should have given her comfort, her heart hammered in her chest as if she'd just run up from the harbor again.

The captain waited with his paws behind his back.

At last, Plink managed to swallow and allow her shoulders to slump. "But? he didn't even say g'bye?"

"No doubt he wanted to. The need for secrecy was too great to take the chance, though." The captain peered down his snout at her, assessing. Slowly, he continued. "A lot goes on under this mountain, Miss Plink. There are those who would turn against me, even now, when I'm so close t' accomplishing what no pirate has ever done before."

"Turn against you, sir? But? why would any pirate do that?" Plink straightened away from the wall, incensed. "The Dead Rock is the only home fer vermin! There ain't any other place fer us! Why would they try an' destroy that?"

Captain Blade shrugged and shook his head. "Greed, short-sightedness. Pirates, by and large, are not so reasonable as you or I, Miss Plink. They just don't understand that we have to stay united if we want to thrive." He smiled and reached past her to open the door. "Go on t' your dinner now, and straight t' your bunk after. It doesn't do to work too hard. I won't have another of my messengers take a tumble down the steps like Obi. Poor sod."

"Aye, Cap'n. G'night, sir." Plink sidled out the door and watched it close after her. Despite his urging to rest, she was taut with a new energy. As she made her way down to the canteen, her eyes shifted sideways at every beast she passed, furtively searching for betrayal in their faces.

The long benches weren't full yet, and after getting her stew, Plink searched the assembled pirates for that familiar patchwork cap. Tooley was nowhere to be seen. Probably, he would come late to dinner. His duties often kept him, just as Plink's had before she began working for Blade himself. With a shrug, she settled at an empty stretch of table and ate alone.

She stared at the lumps of fish and potato in her bowl and listened to the beasts around her. Some argued about who was cheating at dice, and some complained quietly about the work of readying the ships for the coming voyage. Plink stole surreptitious glances at the latter, marking their species and faces, and the ship colors they wore.

It was after she had gulped down the last of her stew that she finally spotted Tooley. The weasel had come through the line and was holding out his bowl for a helping of the dregs. He waited with a distant, confused expression. Plink tried to wave him over, but Tooley walked right past her as if he didn't notice her and sat at an empty spot at another table.

Plink followed, grinning. "Matey," she said as she sat next to him, "yer never gonna guess what happened today!"

"H'lo," Tooley said quietly, rolling the one solid potato in his bowl through the sludgy gravy. "What was it happened?"

"I'm runnin' orders fer Cap'n Blade now, Tooley!"

He twitched his whiskers with a forced smile. "Err, that's wunnerful."

Plink sat back, confused and a little annoyed. Tooley was usually so good-natured. He'd been sad after Ancora didn't claim him, but he'd at least made an effort to see a brighter side. Now that she thought about it, though, Plink realized his smiles had been fading for days. "What's the matter, Tooley?"

Tooley finally looked up from his bowl. "Sorry? Just a little derstracted, s'all."

"Why? What happened?"

He shrugged. "Nothin' happened. It's just? Cap'n Blade... this place," he grumbled, rolling his fretful eyes to the low stone ceiling, the cavern walls flashing in the torchlight. "This ain't a good place, Plink. There's bad thin's happenin' here?"

She shifted her eyes toward a group of pirates she'd overheard complaining about their workload. "There're beasts here who ain't loyal to Cap'n Blade, Tooley. We all gotta do what we can to stay united."

"Aye? I know, but?" Tooley frowned at the mush in his bowl as if trying to decipher some message hidden there.

Plink eyed the wrinkle in his brow. It was all wrong. This was all just a pointless anxiety he had made for himself at the most nonsensical time, when everything was turning out to be alright, and she didn't know how to help him.

At length, Plink couldn't sit still anymore. She patted him on the shoulder and climbed to her footpaws. "We'll talk later, matey. Try not to worry so much."

Tooley nodded and smiled a little, and Plink hurriedly left the canteen. She intended to return to the runners' dormitory as the captain had commanded, but she found herself climbing all the wrong stairs instead. Captain Blade would probably want to know about the grumbles she had heard at dinner, she decided.

Not Tooley's, though. Tooley was just confused right now. He'd figure things out soon.

The guards were missing from the outer door, and Plink slowed as she entered to look around. It seemed as if more coats had hung from the rack by the door this morning. Perhaps the captain had gone out. Resolving to knock at his office anyway, Plink nearly turned away, but from the corner of her eye, she spotted something wedged between the base of the rack and the stone wall. She tugged it loose and raised it into the torchlight. A familiar frayed blue book.

Scully's book.

Plink rasped her claw down the stained spine. The sound made her ill.

He had left in a hurry. In secret. He just dropped it, that was all. She'd just have to return it when he got back. Plink jammed the book deep in her pocket and her paw brushed other things there, things she had reclaimed from the offering baskets on the sacrificial grounds. A silver button from a healer's coat. A charcoal pencil.

Plink shook off the disturbing thoughts and hurried on to the grand door. She knocked as she had each time this day, and entered automatically. The chair behind the large desk stood empty, though. There was nobeast in the office at all. The second door stood slightly agape, revealing just an inch of darkness beyond.

"Cap'n?"

Plink took a step toward the door. She knew she shouldn't be here. She knew she should go back out the way she'd come. There was a sound coming from the darkness, though, a faint rhythmic gust like a bellows.

"Cap'n, is that you?" Plink squeaked.

A rap on the door behind her cracked through the office and Plink leapt straight up, shaken to her bones. After a stiff moment of silence, the knock came again, harder than before.

"Captain Blade!" The voice was that of Captain Burnet, the wildcat to whom Plink had delivered her first message this morning. She sounded exasperated, but the force of her knocking suggested more violent feelings. "Perhaps your extensive studies haven't revealed this yet, but it's rude to extend an invitation and then neglect to receive your guest."

The latch clanked and Plink darted through the second doorway, easing the door almost shut and peeking back through the slim crack with bated breath. Captain Julia Burnet sidled into the office, frowning dryly. Her eye fixed almost at once on the second door. Plink's heart stopped. She'd been spotted.

Captain Burnet only huffed and rolled her eyes. "I am not coming to your bedchamber to find you, Captain," she said loudly.

From behind Plink, echoing as if through a huge chamber, came Captain Blade's voice. "One moment, Julia. Lost track of the ti-"

Plink did not hear the rest, because she took a few panicked steps into the dark room, and the stone floor disappeared from beneath her footpaws. She went skidding down a long, steep slope. Stone rasped her tail raw and jabbed at her haunches until she tumbled backward and spilled claws-over-maw onto a flatter surface.

It was as if somebeast had clanged a gong inside her head. The ringing faded slowly, clearing until at last Plink could hear the captains' voices coming from high above. She heard footsteps on a long wooden catwalk and saw the flashes of a passing candle through its slats. She heard a door shut, and the voices went quiet.

And then, all Plink could hear was the breathing of the massive beast beside her in the dark. She could feel the heat radiating off its body, could smell the musk of its pelt and the sourness of its breath. She cowered on the gritty stone for an eternity, holding perfectly still and straining to see. Yet there was no light to see by. Even above, all was darkness.

At length, Plink realized the steady, deep breaths were those of a sleeping creature. She swallowed and allowed herself to inhale normally at last. The paralyzing fear began to relinquish its hold on her mind. Badger. The scent was badger. In the dark, that odor was as big and powerful as the beast itself.

Himself. The last time Plink had seen Atlas, he had been still and bleeding in the firelight, chained to the sacrificial column. Now, mercifully, he slept like a deadbeast.

Quietly as she could, Plink began crawling up the slope down which she'd come. The stone bit into the tender flesh under her claws and tore at the front of her shirt, but she pressed on. Perhaps halfway up, she found the wall became steeper, and her pawholds crumbled all at once, sending her sliding backward in a cacophony of grinding stone.

Behind her, Atlas's breathing changed. He let out a long, quiet snarl and his massive body shifted. Plink remained perfectly still, but the badger's breathing did not deepen. He was listening for her.

Would he remember her scent from that day aboard The Zephyr? There was no broadsword here in the pit, but Atlas could finish her a thousand other ways. Brutal ways.

It happened very quickly. There was a gritty noise of something large moving to Plink's right. Fear welled up in the young rat as if a dam had broken and, with a squeak, she tried to run to the far side of the pit.

Yet the floor was not as flat as she had expected. It slanted downward and Plink staggered, tripped, and rolled. She came to a stop in a narrow gap in the rock and, sensing more space beneath her, scrambled deeper to evade Atlas's grasping paws.

Those paws never came, but Plink didn't stop. On all fours, she crawled deeper into the tunnel, scraping against knobby stone protrusions and ducking under obstacles her whiskers brushed first.

She crawled for such a long time that she left her fear of Atlas behind. A new fear took its place. What if she was lost? What if she was trapped in this lightless tunnel that went on burrowing forever into the earth?

Just when Plink was beginning to entertain the notion of turning back, she spied light ahead. A sound reached her, a musical splash of water on stone. The tunnel grew steeper and abruptly opened out through the ceiling of a chamber. Plink poked her head through the hole and stared, upside down.

The room was oblong, and about the size of a small house. A tiny waterfall trickled down the wall directly beneath her, glinting in the light of a thousand luminous shelf mushrooms that sprouted straight from the damp rock. The water burbled down the smooth stone, following a well-worn path some feet across the chamber before disappearing through the floor.

It was a struggle to clamber down the slick wall without falling, but Plink managed it by stepping on the biggest of the mushrooms, which were about as wide as her head. The floor was uneven and slippery, and she nearly slid right down into the water before making it past the drainage to the flat area beyond.

Plink scratched her head and peered into the dark at the far end of the room, twisting her ears to listen. The echoes of her own noises suggested the passage went on that way, but she also picked up another sound. Something soft and rapid.

Plink followed the noise to a mound of stone that rose up to the level of her waist. There was a hole through the top, and as she peered down into the circular shaft of darkness, the sound was clearer. Flapping. Like birds' wings.

A memory teased at the edge of her mind, but Plink brushed it aside as she noticed something else; the air down this hole smelled like the sea.

If the tunnel led to the ocean, it had to lead out eventually, and Plink would rather risk swimming than wind up trapped in these tunnels until she starved. She climbed down through the mound and began carefully inching lower, grateful for the smooth ridges that ringed the tunnel.

This time, the climb was short. The shaft wormed perhaps fifteen feet down, then ended. Below her, Plink found a stone shelf a short drop away, lit faintly by indirect torchlight.

But beyond that shelf, the floor fell away, at least a hundred feet below. Plink's stomach flipped and she almost lost her hold on the last ridges of the tunnel. If she stumbled when she landed on that ledge, she would continue falling for a long ways.

She couldn't hang in this shaft forever either, though. Plink took three deep breaths, then lowered herself as far as she could go and released her hold.

Her footpaws hit, and she dropped to all fours at once to steady herself, heart banging in her ears. For a long moment, she knelt there, listening to the soft flapping and the occasional laugh of a distant pirate. Only when she had calmed did she dare sit back on her heels and look around the harbor.

The first thing she saw was the row of ships, seeming small from so high up. Plink ignored them for a long moment as she searched for a way down, but the wall was pocked and ragged with pawholds, and the ships soon drew her eye once more.

It was their colors, the pennants strung from the tops of their masts, that fluttered in the light evening breeze wafting in through the great hole across the harbor. By some trick of the ceiling of the chamber, the soft sound was magnified, as if a tiny flock of birds were taking flight off the water.

?ye'll find a flock o' birds?

Plink's eyes bulged as the riddle came back to her in a rush. For a week she had marveled at the new home she had found, at the complex new world in which she had a place. Treasure had been the furthest thing from her mind.

Now, though, her eyes were drawn inexorably back to the dark hole above her. If she leapt as high as she could, she thought she might be able to get a hold on the lip of the tunnel. The riddle repeated in her head, lilting and hypnotic and loaded with fresh promise.

?Climb down the mole's chimney
an' ye'll find a flock o' birds,
or wriggle through the wormhole
t'where screams be th' only words.
Or go straight fer th' king-
climb up through th' stars.
Ye can steal 'is crown
if ye cut out 'is heart.