The Dawn Wizard looked at her for a long moment, then dragged a claw between his pointy teeth to dislodge a bit of food. He waited a moment longer and then said, “All the rest of them will be covered in iron.”
Marrill’s cheeks heated. “Oh. Right. But if we find that last mirror… that’s it?” she asked. “Find the right mirror, reach the man under the armor, save Ardent?”
The Dawn Wizard winked his larger eye. “More or less.” His whiskers danced with amusement.
Relief washed over her, hope surging in its wake. She jumped up and spun toward Fin, her heart hammering with excitement. “Let’s go mirror hunting!”
When she turned back, the Dawn Wizard’s muzzle was mere inches from her face. His needle-sharp teeth nearly touched her skin. If he breathed at all, she couldn’t feel it.
“But don’t forget,” he said, “you now stand between all creation and an unending tide of unyielding metal. When the time comes, you must not hesitate.” His eyes turned from gold to midnight, flames seeming to dance beneath them.
“If you can’t save him,” he said, “strike him down.”
“Check it out,” Remy shouted as Marrill and Fin reboarded the Kraken. “The Brains-of-Neb here rigged this thing to fly permanently!” She nodded toward a Dzane shaped like a cloud of eyes hovering next to her.
As Marrill watched, the cloud resolved into a mouth and started speaking. “It’s still fueled on belief, remember,” it said. “Away from here, it might actually eat belief, so I would say use this capability sparingly.”
“I can fly forever,” Remy insisted. But then her shoulders drooped. “Wish Coll could see this.” Her hands tightened into fists. “Stupid Sheshefesh,” she growled under her breath.
The Dawn Wizard’s whiskers twitched with amusement as he perched at the top of the gangplank. “Is the Sheshefesh still causing problems that far in the future?”
Remy’s jaw tightened. “He stole our captain.”
The Dawn Wizard let out a cackle. “What, that little squid? Here,” he said, beckoning Remy closer, “let me tell you something about him you might find… helpful.”
Marrill couldn’t hear what the Dawn Wizard told her babysitter-turned-captain, but when he stepped back, Remy was smiling.
Then the little Dzane’s eyes landed on Fin. He paused, tilting his head. His finger pointed toward a torn scrap of parchment poking out of the thief’s bag slung around Fin’s hip. His voice shook a little as he spoke. “Is that… my Map?”
Fin glanced down. “Yeah… the version from our time,” he said, pulling it free.
The Dawn Wizard’s hands opened and closed by his side. “May I see it?” he asked. In his eyes, a pale wind blew, scattering away all trace of color.
“Oh,” Fin said sheepishly as he held it out. “Uh… it’s kind of broken, though.”
The Dawn Wizard took the Map carefully in his hands, turning it over. The hole in the center was just as ragged as it had been when the Lost Sun had burned it there. Splotches of Sheshefesh ink and stained dream ribbon still clung to it—signs of Ardent’s efforts to repair it at the Font of Meres.
The Dawn Wizard peered through the hole with one now-golden eye. “So I see,” he said. With one claw, he hooked the dream ribbon and drew it across the torn surface. Then he flicked his hands, and the hole disappeared.
Marrill let out an awed breath, her eyes going wide. “You fixed it? Just like that?”
The Dawn Wizard lifted a shoulder. “I just stitched up the tear. But it still isn’t whole. Without the Compass Rose, it’s not much use, I’m afraid.”
Marrill slapped her palm against her forehead. “Rose.” Of course the Map wouldn’t work without her. That’s why it was still blank.
The Dawn Wizard handed the Map back to Fin with a wink. “At least it looks nicer now, don’t you think?”
“Thanks,” Fin said, tucking it back in his bag. “I think.”
The Dawn Wizard started toward the spire. Marrill trotted across the deck to catch up with him. “So this is good-bye?” she asked.
The catlike mouth grinned. His teeth sparkled with a strange, inner light. “In a manner of speaking.” He gripped Marrill’s wrist. “Remember,” he told her, “so long as there is one possibility, there are all possibilities.” Then he was down the gangplank and gone.
“All aboard!” Remy called through cupped hands.
Serth glanced up from what appeared to be a jovial conversation he’d been having with a shaggy Dzane that looked like a cross between a small woolly mammoth and a golden retriever walking on hind legs. Laughter still played around the wizard’s eyes as he clapped the Dzane on the back and bade him good-bye before starting toward the Kraken. Whatever had bothered him earlier seemed entirely forgotten.
The Naysayer lumbered behind him, pausing at the table festooned with food to scoop up as many of the treats as he could. “Smell you later,” he grunted to the Dawn Wizard as he shuffled past.
With everyone on board, the Ropebone Man cast off the last of the moorings, freeing the ship from the spire. Marrill watched from the bow as the Enterprising Kraken headed out, down toward the whirlpool below.
“Have fun in the Mirrorweb!” the Dawn Wizard called after them. “Good luck saving everything!”
Marrill waved good-bye reluctantly. Down below, a swirling funnel of gold waited to suck them into a place where even the Dzane refused to follow.
CHAPTER 12
MirrorwebewrorriM
The Kraken tilted. Fin gripped a rope as the deck slanted beneath him. The hole in the sea opened up around them. The thick magic made it less like being sucked down a whirlpool, and more like being swallowed by a snake. Slowly, bit by bit, they descended into a world of molten gold.
Fin couldn’t pinpoint the moment when everything looked exactly the same. But in that moment he couldn’t pinpoint, everything changed. At the bottom, which was really the top, which was really the middle, the Map to Everywhere yawned open. Fin couldn’t see it, but he could feel it, a knowledge that pulsed upward through the raw magic and settled into his brain. The gold walls closed in…
…and time and place didn’t seem to matter anymore…
….or even… exist. Everything seemed to…
…draw out…
At first, he was sure they weren’t moving.
Then
herising.
waswere.
surethey.
theysworn.
werehave.
falling.he’dWeren’t they?
Then,
He was sure they weren’t moving. At first.
Fin’s thoughts stretched out and surrounded him. He read them like they were printed on a scroll.
All we need to do is sneak in, find the Master, swipe him with the Evershear and let nature take its course, his thoughts read.
He nodded. Smart.
And find the mirror on the way and save Ardent, too.
Fin frowned. That thought was Marrill’s. He grabbed for another one.
Great, if we can. But we have to do what we have to do. We can’t let ourselves get We will probably have to kill Ardent but I shouldn’t tell Marrill that.
sidetracked, or the whole Pirate Stream may be lost. Wait, can she read my thoughts too?
Uh-oh, this small type says way more than I meant to
He grabbed for the next thought in frantic slow motion.
But we have to save Ardent! He’s our friend, and
I can and I can’t believe you, Fin.
deep down he’s an amazing person. We have to save him!
You can’t just let someone go because if you can then what about my mom?
Fin felt the blood rising, drawing up his neck and into his face in a slow-motion flush of embarrassment. Another one of his thoughts stretched between them, its subtext snagging on one of Marrill’s
Sorry, Marrill. You’re right, of course.
I think I’m right but I don’t want to hurt you. I want to save Ardent, but
I want to stop the Iron Tide and save the Parsnickles and Fig more. I really hope you understand but it’s easier to pretend to give up than to try and explain.
It’s okay. We just need to find that mirror before we find Ardent, that’s all!
I’d rather not fight. IhopeIhopeIhope. And then we never have to fight!
IhopeIhopeIhopeIhope.
Fin nodded confidently. The gold world swirled and stretched around them and inside them. Another final thought wrapped up and around him.
No problem, it read. How hard could it be to find?
And then time snapped back into place,
and they were in another place and time.
They were surrounded by an endless jungle, up, down, around, sideways. Everywhere he looked, everything was trees, leaves, branches, leaves, vines, leaves. Green on green on green, infinite and indistinguishable. Impossible and impenetrable. Yet at the same time, it all seemed to be off at a short distance, like the Kraken was somehow sailing in an empty space in the middle.
“Huh,” Fin said. Not a mirror in sight. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Beside him, Marrill appeared just as confused.
And then, with a horrible grinding crash, the Kraken ran aground.
Fin pinwheeled his arms, struggling to stay on his feet. The ship pitched to one side, only to smash into something else.
“What’s going on?” Marrill yelled, grabbing his arm to steady herself. “What are we hitting?”
From the quarterdeck, Remy waved a hand wildly. Strange shadows speckled her face. “Full stop!” she screamed.
The sails eased. The ship lurched to a halt. Fin raced to the port railing, looking over to see what they’d run into.
Just below the main deck, a huge, angled corner of glass had scratched a line across the Kraken’s hull. Inside the glass, jungle trees waved in a breeze he couldn’t feel. He looked up, watching the same trees wave in the same rhythm right beside him. But for the fact that he could see the glass gouging the Kraken’s hull, he’d have thought they were a single forest stretching out in an unbroken line.
Fin tilted his head, changing his perspective. It was a reflection, he realized. He’d seen the trick before, when the Kraken had stopped once in the PrestidigiNations, where real magic was considered rude and sleight of hand was the height of fashion. Mirrors set at the proper angles could create illusions—set two mirrors a few feet apart, and a man could appear to vanish into thin air just by walking between them.
Ardent had been the one to explain it to him, Fin recalled, his stomach twisting at the memory. He shook his head, pushing the thought away, and paced down the length of the Kraken. As he moved, the angles between the mirrors surrounding them changed, allowing him to figure out where one ended and another began.
Unfortunately, they were everywhere. Up, down, all around. Sticking out like the jagged tips of icebergs; twisted around the Kraken in multifaceted strands. He squinted at the trees. Sure enough, they didn’t just look alike—they were identical. One forest, reflected across a billion mirrors, stretching out all around them as far as he could see.
“It’s the same thing over and over,” Fin murmured.
“Variations on a theme, actually,” Serth said, slipping up behind him. “Reflections of endless possibilities. Look closer.”
Fin squinted. For the most part, the trees themselves were fairly uninteresting. Painfully boring, even. But then he saw a spot where the trees in the mirror shivered, their bark bristling like fur on an angry dog. In the next mirror over, the exact same trees waved, only now he was confident they were actually sculptures made from copper and gemstones. Next to them, the trees were real—with a colony of ruby-colored birds building a small city in the branches.
Above, the same birds were going to war with a troupe of howling monkeys. To the left, the very same monkeys were hosting the birds in a friendly sporting match, and everyone was being exceedingly polite.
“What is this place?” Fin whispered, craning his neck to take it all in.
“Welcome to the Mirrorweb.” Serth held his arms wide, in a gesture eerily reminiscent of Ardent. “Refuge of the Master of the Iron Ship, prison of the Lost Sun of Dzannin, and the essence of the Pirate Stream made literal.”
Marrill leaned in beside them. Carefully she reached toward the trees. Her hand stopped, and her finger traced down the edge of another mirror. Fin could see the surface now that she was touching it, a dagger tip jutting up from under the ship. But if he hadn’t known to look, the maze of reflections would have rendered it nearly invisible.
“What are we seeing?” Marrill asked.
Serth strode slowly across the deck, his eyes flitting from surface to surface. “Possibilities,” he said. “They are what was, what is, and, most importantly, what could be. The Stream is the raw potential to be anything. Here in the Mirrorweb, all the things it can be are reflected.”
Fin’s eyes darted from one image to the next. In one mirror, the leaves seemed bright, practically shining with cheer. In another, they were shaded, dark, and dripping with menace. Here, the trees were on fire; there the trees were fire.
“Pretty spiff,” he said, “but how come everything is trees?”
Serth snorted a laugh. “Because,” he said, “we are looking at a reflection of the Kraken.”
Fin whipped his head around. He searched all the images. With the exception of a small copse of wood far above them where the monkeys had apparently invaded the birds by the sea, not a single ship could be seen. He started to wonder if they’d been too quick to declare Serth recovered from drinking Stream water.
“I don’t—”
“It’s the wood,” Marrill interrupted. She motioned to a huge tree, distorted to enormous size in what he could see now was a long, curved mirror. There was nothing really special about it. In fact, just looking at it made him want to yawn.
Understanding hit him in a rush. It was boring. So boring that even pure magic couldn’t make it more interesting. It was the only thing that could stand up to the waters of the Stream—the stuff streamrunning vessels were made from. “Dullwood!”
“Indeed,” Serth said, smiling as though pleased they’d figured it out. “We are looking at the reflection of the Enterprising Kraken as it was when it was still a tree not yet harvested. Remember, the Mirrorweb is a place apart from the current of time. Past possibilities live here, too.”
Fin continued studying the many mirrors. In one, the leaves shifted shape, twisting like hands forming sign language. Apparently, it was possible that even dullwood might have once been interesting.
Snorting at the thought, he noticed that in the gaps between the mirrors he could see more mirrors, and beyond them even more mirrors, and more and more, and all of them were trees. Every mirror he could see represented only what was possible for this one single stand of woods at this one single point in time, and it still stretched to infinity.
He almost staggered at the enormity of it all. And then he sucked in a breath as he realized the implications. To save Ardent, they had to find a single mirror in a labyrinth of mirrors that was literally endless. It wasn’t just hard.
It was impossible.
Next to him, Marrill’s shoulders drooped sadly, and he realized she must have come to the same conclusion. He tried to figure out what he could say to comfort her, but before he opened his mouth, her eyes filled with tears and she turned away.
He understood her reluctance. But the reality was that it was looking more and more like there was only one way to solve this problem.
The Master had to go—and Ardent, it seemed, with him. No more hesitating. No more wavering.
Of course, to do that they needed to first find the Master, which presented its own set of challenges. Fin peered out at infinite variations of one tiny place on one tiny island at one tiny spot in a river of magic that went on forever, hoping to spot a lead. “The Master’s got to be out there somewhere.…”
“Indeed,” Serth said. “As is t
he Iron Tide. Creeping through these possibilities, turning the mirrors dark.” He paused, letting the image sink in.
With a heavy heart, Fin scanned the reflected forest around the ship. Every mirror showed a world that was wondrous and strange and maybe sometimes scary, but unique. He didn’t want to think about them all disappearing, one by one.
“Well,” Serth said, clapping his hands together and breaking the gravity of the moment. “We should get moving. I will guide us. I’ve been here before, after all.”
“Can you help us find the mirror that will save Ardent?” Marrill asked cautiously.
The tall wizard looked down at her, sympathy in his eyes. He raised a hand, and let it hover for a moment before tentatively patting her shoulder. “I could try,” he said. “But it would be difficult, and I doubt we would succeed.”
“Well then,” Marrill said, bouncing up and down with renewed energy. “Like you said, we should get moving!”
Fin shook his head sharply. He’d heard what Serth had said. The Iron Tide was out there, turning mirrors dark. Taking possibilities, like it had taken Fig and the Parsnickles and would take the dullwood forests. “Slow your tailwinds,” he told her. “This is about stopping the Iron Tide. We need to head for the Master, not waste time hunting for some mirror.”
“But we said earlier—” Marrill started.
Fin could see where she was headed, and he leapt in to cut her off at the pass. They talked over each other in a jumble.
“That was earlier—”
“—we were going—”
“—things have changed—”
“—you can’t just give up—”
“—you can’t just abandon—”
Remy called their attention with a sharp whistle. She was standing right behind them. For some reason, she’d donned gloves and covered her face and forehead with bandannas, leaving not even an inch of bare skin.
“Uh, Remy?” Marrill started. “What are you wearing?”
The older girl cut her off with a sharp swipe of her hand. “I don’t like the glare,” she said.