“You must be deathly cold, my dear. Come aboard and join me for ssssome hot tea.”
With a crooked, bony hand, thecreature waved Cyrus up into the boat.
“Don’t,” Edward gasped, from within his shirt.
Cyrus fought the urge to climb the mesh ladder.
“No, um, thank you for your kind offer, but we must be on our way.”
He shook his head and tried to clear the fog. A waterfall of green smokedrifted down from within the stranger’s cloak.
“Breathe…” it whispered.
Suddenly desperate for air, Cyrus drew the fumes into his lungs andbegan to cough. Edward sneezed violently inside Cyrus’ pocket. Cyrus’ visiongrew murky and his senses blurred.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“You are lost, young Master LongBones,” the stranger said.
Cyrus’ attention peaked out from within the gaseous gloom.
“How do you know my name?”
“Oh, I know many things. I know your village has crumbled into the sea.I know you search for a new home. And I know the land for which you ssseek.”
Cyrus rubbed his irritated eyes.
“You know what happened to my island?”
His voice sounded distant as ifspoken by another.
“How do you know these things? Who are you?”
“Oh, I have many namesss… but youmay call me Rorroh…”
The stranger whispered the name from the bottom of its belly, and a slash of yellow teeth flashed in thelantern’s glow.
“Come aboard, young Master. Let me guide you on your journey.”
Another plume of smoke washed down over Cyrus’ head. Once the coughingcleared, he fell into a hypnotic daze and began to climb the ladder.
“Cyrus, no…” Edward whispered, weakly.
Cyrus paused, momentarily pulled from his trance.
“Quickly, young Master,” Rorroh called down,“or the tea will get cold.”
“My friend, he’s sick. He needs help,” Cyrus slurred.
“I have all the aid you require aboard my ship. Come,” the strangerbeckoned.
“Cyrus…” Edward moaned.
“They’re going to help us,” Cyrus said.
He climbed the remaining length of the ladder and pulled himself aboard.Rorroh drew away from the lamp’s flame.
“Please child, extinguish your torch. It is too much for my old eyesss.”
Cyrus blew out the lantern and set it on the deck. The creature shiveredwith delight.
“Come, don’t be afraid,” it said, as it limped towards the stern of theship.
“I’m not,” Cyrus said, as he followed Rorrohthrough the haze.
“Yesss,” Rorrohsmirked, “the traum weed can have that sortof effect on the mind.”
“Effect?”
“Oh, never mind, just, breathe.”
Swampy moss coated the top deck like a gangrenous skin, while asix-pronged tiller moaned with the ocean’s current. Rorrohshuffled towards a cabin at the rear of the vessel, careful not to step on anyof the deck’s fractured floorboards. The shack’s horn-shaped chimney billowedwith green smoke, and from within, the room’s round windows flickered with adim, emerald hue. Rorroh grasped the door handle andlet Cyrus into the ill-lit chamber.
“Thank you,” he mumbled, drifting through the creaking doorway.
He had to focus his eyes to take in his surroundings. The cabin smelledof sweet perfume and dried flowers, but under that odor something sour lurked.A stove at the back of the cabin burned with green embers, warming the damp quarters,and on top of the stove, a blackened kettle began to whistle.
Cyrus noticed a second person pick the pot up and carry it towards a round table nook. Like Rorroh,the creature too wore a hooded robe.
“The tea is ready, Mistress,” the short fellow said, his voice gravellyand high-pitched.
Mistress,Cyrus thought, So Rorrohis a woman.
“Aghamore, set the tea down there,” Rorroh replied, limping towards a cupboard.
As Aghamore placed the tea on the table, Cyruscaught a glimpse of his face. The creature looked grey and starved, with a shabby,white beard. His left eye had swelled twice as large as his right. He retreatedtowards the stove and sniffed at Cyrus through slit-like nostrils.
Cyrus realized he was staring. He looked towards the table. There he sawa large map pinned to the wall. The chart wassketched in a red so dark; it wasalmost black. Several islands dotted the map with names like VANN GARDE,GRUNN GARDE, and, HIMMEL GARDE. At its center were sketched Virkelot and Myrkur Island. Both were marked HUNE.
“Why do you have a map of my home?” Cyrus asked, rubbing the fog fromhis eyes, “and what are the rest of those islands?
“That’s where klappen lurk and mermaidsss shriek,” Rorrohsaid, “But those demons are of no concern to you, now…”
Aghamore snickered.A chill brushed Cyrus’ flesh. He tried to make a mental note of the details.His thoughts swam and twisted.
“Please, have a ssseat,” Rorroh said, setting a pair of tin cups out on the table.
“My friend,” Cyrus said, drawing Edward from his pocket, “He’s notwell.”
He slid into the nook’s bench seat farthest from his host and heldEdward cupped in his hands. The spider was breathing, but barely conscious.
“What have we here?” Rorroh asked, moving closer.
In the emerald glow of the fire, Cyrus could see his host’s facialfeatures. Rorroh had powdered her face in whitemakeup, but under that mask, her skin was a map of wrinkles, clinging to herskull like dried leather. She wore a long, wooden costume nose, tied to herhead by thin rope, and her cheekbonesjutted out like cliffs, smeared with red blush.
Cyrus opened his hands. The old woman’spale flesh grew more pallid somehow.
“Blodbad spider…” she gasped, staggering back.
“He’s my friend,” Cyrus said, drunkenly, “He needs our help.”
He laid Edward on the stained, yellow tablecloth and stroked his furryback. Hesitantly, Rorroh took a glass beaker from ashelf. Then she sprang forward, trapping the spider under the glass.
“What are you doing?” Cyrus asked, jerking his hand away.
“We don’t allow wild animals to run free on our ship,” Rorroh said, forcing a smile.
“Don’t be afraid,” Cyrus said, his head lulling, “He’s not like otherspiders. He talks.”
“Oh, he does more than that,” Rorroh said, peeringclosely at the arachnid through the glass, “And do not worry about his health.The traum weed affected him more thanmost. He will be as good as new in a few hours.”
“Thank the Angels,” Cyrus sighed, enjoying the sedated hum runningthrough his body, “If you give him back, I’ll make sure he’s kept safe.”
Rorroh moved around the table andshifted into the nook, her hand still on the glass.
“Now, now, child, don’t be rude. Take a sssipof
