Castle Kidnapped

Undersea World

“See anything through that periscope, Jacques?”

“Oui. Beaucoup de l’eau.”

“Beaucoup what?”

“Water.”

Trent took his head from the eyepiece. “The eruption is over, as far as I can tell. The volcano must have pulled a Krakatoa and blown apart. There’s nothing left of the island it was on. It sank.”

“And our island?” Sheila asked.

“Still there, but completely denuded. Our goose would have been done to a turn.”

Sheila sighed. “We made the right decision for once.”

“Oh, we’re not doing too badly at all,” Trent said. He turned to the First Officer, a tall, distinguished man who stood by at attention. “Take her up, Mr. Ponsonby.”

“Very good, sir.” Ponsonby spun around and barked a series of orders to the boatswain, who then relayed them to the rest of the crew in the conning tower.

Ponsonby turned back. “Any further orders, sir?”

“Conduct a search for possible survivors, doubtful enterprise though it be.”

“Capital idea, sir. No harm in being thorough.”

“None. After that, our heading will be due east at half speed. Send lookouts aloft.”

“Very good, sir.”

“Miss Jankowski and I will be in our quarters. I’m to be alerted at first sight of land. Carry on.”

“Aye aye, sir.” Ponsonby saluted, crisply about-faced, and went about his duties.

“It still spooks me a little,” Sheila said as they descended the tight spiral stairs that communicated between decks.

“The crew? You conjured them.”

“I know, but still …”

“When you decided to whip up this palatial submarine, who did you think was going to run the thing? You and me?”

“Stop teasing. Of course I didn’t have time to think.”

“Your spell did your thinking for you. Did the logical thing.”

“But where did they come from? Where will they go when —?” Sheila stopped and put a hand over her heart. “Oh, no. I never thought of that.”

“They’ll simply cease to exist. But no need to think about canceling the spell for the moment. There might not be any respectable landmasses on this world. A submarine’s going to come in handy.”

Reaching the main deck, they made their way forward, saluted by crewmen en route.

“I’ll need some dry land when I attempt summoning the portal,” Sheila said.

“Really?”

“I think. God, think of what would happen if I don’t get the locus positioned just right, and the portal opens up outside the ship.”

“Maybe you’re right. I was going to suggest you try it inside the boat, but you ought to know your own abilities.”

“I do. I’m still an amateur when it comes to this world’s magic.”

“That makes me a retard,” Trent said. “I can’t get anything going at all.”

“I’ll give you lessons. It’s easy once you get past the main hang-up.”

They entered their quarters. The outer chamber was a sumptuous drawing room with red damask walls and oriental furniture.

Trent surveyed the place. “Son of a cross between a Singapore cat house and a Chinese restaurant. Curious.”

“You see? That’s my question. Who was the decorator?”

“You, subconsciously. Or, to look at it from another angle, no one, really. Spells work all sorts of strange ways, picking things out of the ether at random. Actually the place is nice, in an odd sort of way. You have one hell of a talent, my dear. But why you cast me as captain, I’ll never know.”

“Who else?”

“What’s wrong with a female skipper? It’s your show, after all. You didn’t think the crew would have any objection, did you?”

“That wasn’t the reason. Me, a ship’s captain? A submarine, yet. Don’t be silly.”

He put his arm around her and gave her a squeeze. “You have a very traditional turn of mind.”

“I’m the mistress of a prince. How more traditional can you get?”

Trent crossed to the liquor cabinet. “I could make an honest woman of you,” he said offhandedly as he poured a snifter of Courvoisier “Drink?”

“No, thanks. Trent, that sounded like a marriage proposal.”

“I’m proposing to make you a princess, young lady.”

Sheila froze with a look of stunned disbelief.

Trent glanced over his shoulder “Surprised?”

“Frankly …” Sheila laughed “Trent, I’m shocked. Don’t feel you have to.”

“Wouldn’t think of it. It’s just that I’ve been alone for a long time. For the most part I prefer it, but as I get older, the bed seems to get bigger, and the sheets a little colder.”

“I find it hard to believe you can’t get a bed partner. But if so, get a smaller bed, then buy yourself an electric blanket.”

“Those things make me nervous. Sheila, is this a refusal? I’m crushed.”

“Hold on, I didn’t refuse anything, or anyone.” She sat on the silk divan. “You have to give me some time.”

“I realize it’s sudden,” he said. “After all, we were thrown together. The pressures of crisis, and all that I can understand.”

“No, you don’t understand. It’s just that … I sometimes have a hard time believing all this. The direction my life has taken. This strange new world I’m in. Sometimes I doubt that it’s real. That I might be in some place, some sanitarium or something, with tubes sticking out of me, and all this is some kind of sick dream….”

She trailed off, then buried her face in her hands. Trent put down his drink and hurried to her.

“There, now,” he said, cradling her in his arms. He handed her his monogrammed handkerchief.

Presently she dried her eyes. “I still have trouble sometimes. I lie awake in the castle at night, afraid to fall asleep, afraid it’ll all be gone in the morning.”

“Understandable. Most human beings will never be in the position you’re in, seeing the universe revealed in all its true strangeness.”

“It’s almost too much for the likes of me. I’m a damn bank teller, is all. I’m no magician.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, my dear. May I have my answer now?”

“Your …? Oh. Darling Trent —”

Trent scowled. “Uh-oh, here it comes. The gentle letdown. ‘We can still be friends,’ right?”

“Don’t be silly. ‘Friends’ don’t do the stuff we do. There’s just one thing, Trent.”

“Which is?”

“I don’t know much about protocol and matters royal, but aren’t I a commoner?”

“Frankly, yes. But that don’t make no nevermind to me. I’ll never be Lord of Perilous, not that your status would matter to me in any event.”

“But your family …”

“Screw ’em. Besides, Earth customs and Perilous customs aren’t exactly analogous in these matters.”

“Oh. Then my answer is yes.”

Trent at first seemed surprised. Then a glow of immense delight spread across his face. “My darling Sheila.”

He kissed her, then picked her up and carried her through the dining room, past den, kitchen, pantry, and servants’ quarters, then on into the master bedroom.