Poppy stepped onto the dock first. An old iron bell hung from a pole at the far end. Once she rang it, in theory, the Boatman should arrive to take them where they wanted to go. As long as they paid him, in theory, they were safe. He wouldn’t harm them, or take them anywhere else. In theory.
She wasn’t sure she believed the Boatman could go between the Grimwood and the land of the dead, but she also didn’t see any point in finding out if it was true. Dog came and stood by her side, watchful and quiet. Mack stood farther back, trying to distribute their weight along the rotting boards of the dock.
Poppy was reaching for the bell when a huge green and purple dragonfly landed between her and Mack, then turned into Nula.
“You were really going to leave me?” Her long tail whipped the air behind her.
Poppy jumped, but Mack just stared.
“What are you doing here, Nula?” Poppy blurted.
“You never asked where I was headed next,” the pooka said, not meeting their eyes.
“Don’t tell me…” Mack crossed his arms. “You’re—”
“I’m going to the Holly Oak.”
Poppy laughed out loud. “You are not.”
“I am too. Don’t tell me where I’m going.” She turned to Poppy. “Could I—I mean … do you mind … if I go with you?”
Poppy considered. The pooka had helped them twice now, once with her blood ward, and once with the banshee. If Nula wanted their company, why should she argue?
Two friends, she thought, letting the idea roll around in her mind. “If you really want to,” she said, and gave Nula a smirk. “I guess that’s fine.” She glanced back at Mack. “That’s okay with you, right, Mack?”
Mack nose-sighed as Nula beamed at both of them, and Poppy took the mallet off its peg and hit the bell. The deep tone rang out. It raced along Poppy’s arm, leaving goose bumps behind, and seemed to ripple out over the river and into the trees. A hush fell over the forest.
The sound of an oar in the water made Poppy’s heart beat faster. Nula moved to stand behind Mack, looking like she wasn’t sure whether to hide behind him, or bolt. She and Dog both had their ears back. Everyone stared upstream, waiting. Even the woods seemed to be holding its breath.
And then, the Boatman appeared.
He was a wide, round man with pale white skin. His black beard and hair wrapped around his head like a mane, and looked singed at the edges, all of it sticking out as if he had been struck by lightning. His black eyes were fever-bright. He pulled the shallow boat up to the end of the dock, and held out his hand, palm up.
Poppy swallowed. “Can you take us to the Holly Oak?” she asked, her voice faltering.
He studied them for a moment, his gaze flickering over each of them as if weighing them, or perhaps, judging them. He didn’t answer but moved his open hand nearer to Poppy.
She looked back at Mack. He just tipped his chin. Poppy’s throat went dry as she reached into her pocket.
She pulled out three of her gold coins and dropped them into the Boatman’s waiting palm. His thick fingers closed around them, and they hurried aboard. The boat rocked wildly as Dog jumped on, sending up the thick wet smell of the river. The murky scent seemed to rise from the Boatman himself as he stared at Eta-Two-Brutus with gleaming eyes. For a moment Poppy thought he might speak. She shuddered as he turned away to dip his oar in the water.
They shot upstream at a dizzying pace, the trees blurring on either side. Poppy clung to the edge of the boat with one arm around Dog, hoping she hadn’t made a terrible mistake. Her breath clung in her throat as if it were afraid to leave. Mack sat in the back with wide eyes, while Nula hunched low in the middle looking around as if something might pop out at her at any moment.
The water grew rough. Cold foam splashed over the edge, gathering in the bottom of the boat where they huddled.
The trees blurred faster.
Nula leaned forward and threw her arms over her head, as Brutus began to whimper.
Poppy’s heart faltered.
The Boatman began to laugh.
He laughed and laughed, a booming echo that swirled around them like a storm. Poppy squeezed her eyes shut. She could hear water raging beneath them now, but she was too afraid to look. Nula was crying behind her and Eta-Two-Brutus huddled by her feet.
They were moving so fast, Poppy couldn’t lift her head against the force of their movement. She turned it instead, and from the corner of her eye could see a tunnel of branches creaking and swaying above them.
The boat lurched to a stop. At the back, Mack leaned over the edge and threw up. They were at another dock. Poppy might have believed they had come right back to where they started except for two things. They were surrounded by water—and the only shore was the white cliffs gleaming, far away, in the last of the afternoon sun.
“It’s the Alcyon,” Mack announced, sounding more excited than Poppy expected. “I’ve always wanted to see this.”
“The bottomless salt sea,” Nula intoned.
The dock was attached to a huge island made of roots, and those roots rose up into the largest tree Poppy had ever seen. Its bark was a deep red-brown, streaked in black, and its trunk took up the entire island, except for a thin band of sand and rocky shore around it. She looked up, and up, into the thick branches stretching high above them. Shining green holly leaves with spiked black edges rattled in the breeze.
Her hands were clammy as she clambered out onto the dock, half dragging Dog with her. “The Holly Oak—we made it.”
Mack, still recovering from his bout of nausea, stumbled out
