The bedside table crept close, nudging her knee with a corner like a dog nosing at its master’s hand. She absently trailed her fingers across its surface. One of its legs twitched and thumped as she traced the edges of a knot in the wood.
But would it really be all that risky? After all, she still had the coordinates from the Map that led her home last time. They had worked once, and so long as the Stream touched her world, they ought to work again. And if the Stream was close enough that she could get to it, then it was close enough to get back from too, right? She could return to the Stream, fix whatever needed fixing, and be home before anyone grew too worried. Especially with her parents being out of town!
Marrill took a deep breath. Ever since returning from the Stream, she’d tried to live a normal life. She’d gone to a regular school for the first time. She’d helped out at home, taking on extra chores to keep her mother’s stress level low. She hadn’t complained when her parents left her behind to go to Boston for her mother’s treatments. She’d even managed to make a few friends. But none of them like Fin. Or Ardent, or Coll.
And now the Stream needed her. She had to stop the Iron Tide, whatever that was.
Biting her lip, she glanced at the collage of pictures on her bedroom wall. In the center was her favorite: she and her mom holding hands as they jumped from a cliff into crystal-blue waters. Moments before, her mom told her that sometimes in life, you just had to dive right in.
Marrill pushed herself from the bed, snatching the Map from the floor. “It’s settled,” she declared, swiping her fingers through the air in determination. “Karnelius, grab your leash. Mr. Frog, pack your things. Fin’s jacket, get ready to fly again. We’re going back to the Pirate Stream!”
CHAPTER 2
The Perpetual Stowaway
Fin landed on the street with a squish. It was like falling onto an old sponge. He flapped his arms, struggling to keep his balance. Mushroom towers leaned over him, bobbing in a stale breeze. Dank sogginess filled his shoes and soaked into his socks.
He didn’t care for Belolow City. The thieving was terrible. For one thing, the goo that constantly seeped from the ’shroom towers made them impossible to climb, as he had just found out. Not to mention this world’s sickly green sun, which put everything in a bad light (literally: he hadn’t gotten away with a single “innocent misunderstanding” since they’d arrived that morning). Good thing he could always slip around the mushroom caps and be forgotten, or he’d have been in slime-mold jail for sure.
And then there was the moisture.
Belolow’s “famous” moisture was… aggressive. Fin could constantly feel drops of it running up his leg, gathering in pools behind his knees and threatening a full-on invasion of his waistband. He swatted at the back of his calves and gave silent thanks that he’d soon be headed out on the Stream. He slogged his way down toward the murky pool where the Kraken was anchored, shaking his hand to fling away some of the clinging slime as he went.
Once again, he hadn’t found the first trace of his mother. Another dead end, just like every other place the Kraken had stopped in the last six months. He wasn’t one to give up, not when it came to something as important as figuring out who he was and why he was so… forgettable. But he was really starting to wonder if he would ever find her at all.
Lost in thought, he never saw the girl coming. One minute he was squelching through the bog that passed for a marketplace here, doing a little dance to keep his armpits dry. The next he was sprawled on the wet ground, dankness rushing up the back of his shirt to puddle on his shoulders.
“Ay, watchit,” he grunted. A girl around his age rolled to her feet nearby, clearly as stunned as he was. Which wasn’t weird; no one ever noticed him. He’d have been jostled to death long ago if he weren’t so good at avoiding them.
And that was the odd part—that he hadn’t avoided her. Dodging people was second nature, even when he wasn’t paying attention. He shook his head and hopped to his feet. Must be the light, he figured as he gave her a once-over.
She was a thief, no question, though she’d done a respectable, Quay-worthy job with the disguise. Most anyone would have taken her for a standard-issue street urchin, what with the dark, knotted hair, dirt smudged across her chin, and unmatched shoes. It was the details that tipped him off: The beds of her nails were clean. Her ears were still pierced from wearing earrings. And he just barely caught the glint of silver from inside the cuff of her tattered sleeve. She was no beggar, that was for sure.
As if to confirm his impression, shouts of “Thief!” and “After her, go!” filtered through the air, coming from somewhere amid the stewing market crowd. The girl tried to make for an alley, but a thick tangle of fern-fences and dangling moss blocked her. She glanced back, worry on her face.
Three angry-looking guards cleared their way through the street, sweat streaming down their snouted faces. Passersby began to mill about, watching.
Fin smirked. Many a time, he’d been in the girl’s position. It would be good to observe another professional in action. He might learn something. And who knew? Maybe he’d even help, if he was so inspired.
Of course, if it were him, he would just slip up to some unsuspecting mark, call them the thief, and disappear in the confusion. By the time things got cleared up, no one would even remember the kid they’d originally been chasing. He crossed his arms to watch.
Then the girl did something truly strange. She caught Fin’s eye. And she winked.
He could scarcely contain his shock. No one ever caught his eye. Or noticed him at all, really. Not unless he was doing something especially bad. Which, in a rare turn of events, he currently wasn’t.
“Here he is, boys!” she cried, stabbing a finger at Fin as the guards swarmed around them. “We got that thief right here!”
“What?” Fin blurted. That was his line!
The first guard squinted at them both. “This yat thief-is?” he said in the distinctive Belolow drawl. He seemed as confused as Fin was.
“For sure,” the girl said. “Don’t you remember? I was right next to you when you saw him!”
“Arp,” a second guard said. “Very familiar looks-she.” He shifted from one leg to another, squishing unpleasantly. “But thinks-I the thief was a girl?”
“Whoa whoa whoa, bloods,” Fin protested. “You’ve got it all wrong. I haven’t stolen anything!” He looked up. “Important,” he added. “Today. In the last hour. I didn’t steal whatever you boys are after, is what I’m trying to say.”
The girl scrunched up her forehead and pursed her lips. “Noooo,” she said, drawing out the word. “It was definitely a boy. Don’t you remember the black hair?” She leveled her gaze at Fin with a look that seemed to say Go with it.
Fin threw up his empty hands in front of him. “No way.”
The first guard rounded on Fin. “Thief,” he growled.
Fin took a step back, his heart thundering against his ribs. He couldn’t believe what was happening. “Wait now, not me! It was her!” he said, waving frantically.
“Nice try, kid,” the girl said. She winked at him again. “But these guards saw the thief clearly. And it couldn’t have been me. Because they’ve never seen me before in their lives.”
Fin swallowed. Was that nervous sweat or just Belolow funk he felt gathering on his forehead? “But that’s not—” He was about to say possible, but the word stuck in his throat. Because it was possible. Totally and completely. Hadn’t he just been thinking about all the times he had pulled this exact same con?
That was when it hit him. The girl was forgettable. Like him. It suddenly made sense. That was why he hadn’t noticed her when she ran into him. She wasn’t noticeable. Like him.
He sucked in a breath. Never in all of his life had he met someone like him. Someone forgettable. He hadn’t even considered someone else like him existed.
“Wait!” Fin cried, reaching for her. His fingers brushed her sleeve. But she slipped out of his grasp, backing
into the gathering crowd as the guards closed in.
“Hey, wait!” Fin cried again as a guard’s hand closed on his arm. It was too late; the girl had already disappeared down the sodden street. As if she had done this a million times before. Just like he had.
Fin tucked his free hand into his thief’s bag and looked up at the guards. He had to follow her. And that meant losing these tinheads, fast. He snatched a tiny glass pebble from the bottom of his bag, something he’d been saving for just such an occasion. Pulling it out, he crushed it between his fingers. Smoke poured from his palm, coalescing and growing into the figure of a massive giant.
“Arp!” a guard cried. “A mist-man is!”
The crowd watched, every head tilted back in awe as the smoke giant grew larger and larger. Every head except for Fin’s, that is. He slipped from the guard’s grip as easily as he slipped from all of their minds. That was his very last Puff-Decoy. He hated to see it go, but it never failed to distract.
Fin charged after the girl, through the spectators and toward the docks. At this point, he didn’t care about stealth, only speed. The soggy ground slurped at his shoes as he ran.
He was out of breath by the time he hit the pier. It didn’t take him long to figure out where the girl had gone; a ship had already pulled free of her mooring and was headed out toward the middle of the harbor, where the open Stream spilled into this world. Sure enough, the girl stood at her stern, staring back toward shore.
He hadn’t seen the ship when they’d first arrived. If he had, he’d have recognized her immediately. The design was unmistakable, even though this ship was much smaller and sleeker than the great galleon he’d once seen drawn in moving ink and sailing across the face of the Bintheyr Map to Everywhere.
Fin had no doubt. This ship had the same look, was maybe even from the same fleet, as the ship the Map had shown him. The ship that carried his mother.
“Wait!” he screamed with all his might.
The girl saw him and waved with a huge smile. “Thanks for the distraction, brother-fade!” Her voice barely carried across the distance, but sounded like she meant it. Did she think he’d helped her on purpose?
Quickly, he scanned the docks for the Enterprising Kraken. He found her nearby; the jetty wobbled like old gelatin beneath his feet as he ran to his ship.
“Ropebone Man, full sails!” he shouted to the rigging as he hit the deck. “Pirats, weigh anchor!” He leaned forward, bracing for the ship’s movement.
Nothing happened. The Kraken bobbed softly, but otherwise stayed put. A trio of rodents glanced up from where they sat in the shade of a bulkhead, tossing tiny teeth toward a copper cup.
“Let’s go!” Fin shouted to them. He stomped his feet, trying to spur them into action. They just yawned at him, then scampered off to lounge elsewhere.
A quiver passed through his body, frustration and desperation and sorrow all twisted up as one. It was no use. Of course they didn’t follow his commands. He was a stranger. The Kraken had forgotten him, just like everyone else did.
Fin let out a long, shaky breath and dragged himself slowly aft. Rumor vines looped around the stern railing, whispering his own words back to him as he watched the girl’s ship pull farther and farther away.
“Who are you?” Fin said to no one. The vines echoed him:
He closed his eyes in defeat. The only person like him he’d ever met, on a ship like the one the Map had shown him. It was the lead he’d been waiting for, and it was sailing out of reach.
The girl’s ship turned broadside as it headed out to the open waters of the Pirate Stream. A jagged metal symbol was emblazoned on its side, looking pale and ill in the green light. Fin squinted, hoping it might mean something. But before he could fully make it out, the horizon reached up and swallowed the ship whole. It had made the Stream. The girl was gone.
The green sun’s rays turned even more sickly as the sallow orb crouched toward the horizon. The day was ending. Around Fin, rumor vines echoed his sniffles, until it sounded as though the entire ship were weeping. Inside, emotions twisted against each other like serpents. Wriggling with glee at having met someone else like him. Squeezing with misery that he had no idea how to find her.
The Kraken’s hatch slammed open, spilling light out across the deck. A lumbering shadow shuffled forth, a lizard-like head and four arms lurching toward him, a thick tail trailing behind. The Naysayer let out a throaty belch and twisted one finger into his earhole, scratching his backside with another. A watering can dangled from a third hand, and a half-eaten prollycrab from the fourth.
As he neared the stern, the old monster frowned. “Quit your whiney-vining,” he said, brandishing the watering can. “I’m fixin’ to water ya.”
several of the mouth-shaped buds echoed back.
Fin wiped his sleeve across his nose. “It’s just me,” he said.
The Naysayer let out a honk of surprise, which the rumor vines gleefully parroted. He glared at the garden and then back at Fin. “Which one are you again?”
“The forgettable one,” Fin moped.
“That don’t narrow it down,” the Naysayer grunted back. “Try somethin’ new and make yerself useful.” He shoved the watering can into Fin’s hands before wandering off.
With a sigh, Fin lifted his eyes, searching the darkening sky for a star. The one his mother had pointed out to him. The one that meant someone out there was still thinking of him. But tonight, it was hidden by the clouds.
As he raised the watering can, it smacked against his thief’s bag, which jangled, jogging his memory. He grinned. He’d totally forgotten the one thing he did have!
Carefully, Fin slipped his hand into his bag and pulled out a circle of silver. The girl’s bracelet. The thing she’d kept hidden beneath her sleeve. The one she hadn’t even noticed him slipping off her arm when he grabbed for her in the crowd.
He chuckled to himself as he tossed it in the air and caught it again. The girl had been a pretty great thief, he had to admit. But no one skinned the Master Thief. Not without getting skinned themselves, anyways.
He held the bracelet up to the dying light. Etched in its center was the same symbol he’d seen on the side of her ship. Only he could see this one clearly: a dragon underneath a circle filled with what looked like mountains.
And just like that, despite everything, hope swelled in Fin’s chest. For the first time since Marrill left the Stream, he had a lead.
CHAPTER 3
Fangs, and Other Car Troubles
Marrill’s plan started off perfect. First she waited until her dad called to say that her mom was out of surgery and the doctors were optimistic (phew!). Then she told him she’d been invited to a camping trip over the long weekend—to a place out of cell phone range, of course. As concerned as her parents were about her making friends, there was no way he could say no.
After that she’d tucked a note explaining she was okay and would be back soon. She totally expected to make it home in time to destroy it, but just in case.…
Now all she had to do was get past Remy. With a natural skepticism and a reputation to protect as the best babysitter in the school district, the older girl had made it her personal mission to prevent a repeat of “the desert incident,” as Marrill’s weeklong disappearance over the summer had become known. Marrill’s parents had never said as much, but she was pretty sure that was why they’d hired Remy in the first place.
Still, Marrill wasn’t worried. Now that her dad had signed off, even Remy couldn’t say no. It was just a matter of walking up to the old parking lot to “get picked up for the trip,” and she’d be off sailing the Pirate Stream again!
“Wait… weren’t you walking up toward that parking lot right before the desert incident?” Remy asked. And that was when things started to fall apart.
Ten minutes later, Remy’s car pulled into the old abandoned strip mall, Marrill in the passenger seat. “You can just drop me off over there,” Marrill said, pointing toward the cracked sidew
alk running along the strip of empty stores. “I’m sure the other kids will be here soon.”
Remy’s frown deepened as she steered into a parking spot. “Are you sure this is the right place?” Disbelief hung in her voice.
Marrill nodded, trying to act natural. “We’re supposed to all meet here, and Mrs. Mullen will come pick us up.”
She shifted Karny in her lap, making sure his harness was tightly secured, as the car ground to a halt. With the other hand, she grabbed the backpack from the floor between her feet. Inside she’d stuffed Fin’s jacket, a change of clothes, and an old guinea pig cage lined with grass, holding the frog.
Remy wasn’t buying it. “And you brought Karnelius why, again?”
“So, uh, you wouldn’t have to feed him?” A gust of wind washed across them as Marrill pushed open the door. “Thanks for the ride! See you next week!” The words came out in a tumbled rush as she leapt from the car.
“Not so fast, kiddo.” With impressive coordination, Remy snagged the back of Marrill’s pack even as she shifted into park. A second later, they both stood in the empty lot, staring at each other. In the distance, thunder rumbled. Storm clouds were building on the horizon, and coming fast.
“Mrs. Mullen will be here soon, promise. You should go,” Marrill urged. “Really.”
The wind tossed Remy’s long blond ponytail. “Not one chance I’m leaving you out here alone. Not one.” Her statement was punctuated by another low grumble of thunder.
Marrill winced as rain began to fall, pelting the parking lot. Karny hissed, tail fluffing in anger. She scooped him up and tucked him into her arms. “Oooh, it’s starting to come down,” she said. “You go ahead home. I’ll just wait for everyone in there. She jabbed a thumb toward an abandoned store. Behind the dirty glass, the name ROSEBERG’S still hung in sun-faded red letters.