Dormia (12 page)

"I'm talking about taking a leaf from the bloom and, uh, burning it," Hill replied. He looked at Alfonso. "What do you think?"

"I thought you said we weren't going to do that," said Alfonso.

"I know, I know," said Hill. "But I just keep thinking about what clues it might yield. I can't get the blasted thought out of my head!"

"Well," said Alfonso, "it is just one leaf."

"Yes," said Hill excitedly. "That's exactly right! Exactly right! So it's agreed. We burn just one leaf and that's it. Never again. Understood?"

Alfonso and Bilblox nodded. Hill took the Dormian bloom out from his top hat and placed it on the floor. Hill identified the smallest of the seven leaves and held his breath as he broke it off cleanly at the stem. Nothing happened, although the tearing away of the leaf left a milky-white scar on the bloom.

Hill then placed the leaf on the floor, lit a match, and stuck it next to the leaf. In one single, brilliant flash, the entire leaf burst into a ball of flames that leapt up, hovered for a moment in midair, darted left and then right, gave off a few greenish sparks, and promptly disappeared. On the floor, directly beneath the spot where the leaf once lay, were roughly a dozen barely visible granules of purple powder.

"Most remarkable," said Hill, with a touch of fear in his voice.

"Wow!" said Alfonso giddily. "That was cool."

"I told ya this was the thing to do," boasted Bilblox. "Now the question is, what do we do with these little specks of purple ash?"

"I have no idea," said Hill. "But I suppose one of us will have to touch them."

"I volunteer," said Bilblox eagerly.

"Hmm," mumbled Hill. "All right, go ahead."

Very cautiously, Bilblox moved his right index finger toward the small granules of ash. He paused for a moment, glanced at both Hill and Alfonso with a hopeful smile, and then touched the bright purple granules.

Nothing happened.

"Well, I guess it's safe to touch," said Bilblox with a shrug. "Don't seem poisonous or anything like that."

For the next hour or so the three of them experimented with the granules in every possible manner. They touched them, smelled them, tried to set them on fire, and even tasted one of them. Nothing happened. They had reached a dead end. It was now very late, well after midnight, and all three of them were quite sleepy.

"I think it's time for me to go to bed," yawned Bilblox as he
rubbed his eyes. "I'm so tired ... I'm ... whoa ... what's happening? What's going on?" Bilblox was blinking furiously and glancing about in a wild disoriented fashion like a startled animal. "I can't see!" he yelled.

"It's the purple granules!" said Alfonso. "I think he accidentally rubbed them into his eyes."

Both Alfonso and Hill took a closer look and, sure enough, several granules of the purple ash were rapidly dissolving into the moist film of Bilblox's eyes.

"Holy cow!" yelled Bilblox. "Ya wouldn't believe what I'm seeing!"

"What is it!" asked Alfonso.

Bilblox rose clumsily to his feet and stumbled toward the door. He fumbled for the handle. In frustration, he pounded on the door. It flew open as if made of tissue paper. Wind gushed into the room and the remaining purple powder blew away. Bilblox staggered onto the deck and clutched one of the thick wooden rails. It snapped in his hands. Alfonso was astonished. Bilblox was a strong guy, but not
that
strong.

"I can't believe this!" yelled Bilblox. "This is
amazing!
"

Alfonso and Hill ran toward him.

"It's like my eyes are two giant telescopes," Bilblox exclaimed. "I'm still tryin' to get the hang of it—ya can kind of zoom in and out—but I can see a long ways off! In fact, I can see the shore!"

"That's impossible," said Hill. "The nearest shore is the Alaskan coastline and that must be a good three hundred miles away."

"I can see it perfectly," said Bilblox. "There are giant rocks, quite a bit of blue ice, some evergreens, and wait ... yes, that's
a seal ... wait ... yes, there are three big seals and a baby one too!"

"What's behind us?" asked Alfonso. "Can you see that way?"

"H-hold on," said Bilblox, who seemed out of breath. "I'm lookin'. I don't see anythin' yet. Just miles and miles of open sea ... wait ... yes, I see a ship. It's a big black ship. It has some cannons on the front and it's really movin'. Now, my eyes are goin' blurry. Wait ... Oh no! I-I've gone blind." Bilblox fell to his knees and rubbed his fists into his eyes.

"What do you mean blind?" yelled Hill. "What have you done!"

"Wait, I see somethin'," gasped Bilblox. His eyes were closed. He was taking short, hard breaths of air—as if he had just run a race. "I see flyin' fish jumpin' across the bow of the ship ... Now mist is closin' in ... Someone just spilled a cup of coffee ... And there's an iceberg ... There's a low-lyin' iceberg, barely visible, just off the starboard bow ... Purcheezie! She's got to turn the ship or we'll smack inta it!"

Alfonso and Hill exchanged puzzled glances. It was a clear night with no mist or flying fish or anything remotely out of the ordinary. Bilblox fell silent.

"Bilblox? Are you okay? Can you see?" Hill was obviously very concerned.

After a long pause, Bilblox slowly stood up. His eyes began to creep open. "T-t-tired," he muttered. Alfonso and Hill each took one of his arms and helped him back to the windmill. Groggily, Bilblox climbed into his bed. All of his movements seemed slow and lazy—except for his eyelids. Indeed, Bilblox was now blinking furiously as if he had something in his eyes.

"Holy mackerel!" gasped Hill. "Look at his eyes!"

Alfonso was noticing the exact same thing. Bilblox's eyes had turned a milky white, and his pupils were only barely visible.

"Oh no," gasped Alfonso. He couldn't believe it. Bilblox's eyes looked like Kiril's.

***

The next morning, just after breakfast, Hill and Alfonso went around to see Vice Admiral Purcheezie, who was manning the wheel on the bridge of the
Success Story.

"Where's the big longshoreman?" asked the vice admiral as she took a puff on her pipe. "Feelin' lazy?"

"Not really," replied Alfonso. "He's just a little under the weather."

The vice admiral raised her eyebrows skeptically, but said nothing.

"Looks like we got some low visibility ahead," said Hill, pointing to a bank of fog in the distance. "Are we headed that way?"

The vice admiral nodded. "We're headed right into that fog. All the better; a black ship has been on our tail for the last few hours and it's startin' to make me nervous."

"A ship is following us?" inquired Hill.

"Indeed," said the vice admiral. "I've been keepin' a sharp eye on 'er. Looks to be an old warship, judgin' from the cannons on 'er bow."

The vice admiral stood up and looked due south with her telescope. "Well, she's not there now, but I'm pretty sure she's
gainin' on us. I've seen these ships before. They're old relics from the Russian navy favored by hijackers, pirates, and mercenaries of one kind or another. I've had my run-ins with them in earlier years. They target ships leavin' Fort Krasnik. After all, we're not gonna call the police, are we? Still, I don't know why they'd be after me right now, especially this far north. They couldn't have figured out what I got onboard—only me and the crew know." She looked at Hill and Alfonso. "As I said, it's mighty strange they're still followin' me. Ya wouldn't know anythin' about this, would ya?"

"No," Hill quickly replied.

"No matter," continued the vice admiral. "We're almost into that fog, and luckily we're near an ice field as well."

"Why is that lucky?" asked Alfonso.

"It's lucky because there's no way that black ship is followin' us into a foggy ice field. Too dangerous. Only a fool or a savvy veteran of the polar seas—like meself—would do somethin' like that."

The fog was now only a few hundred yards away. It looked to Alfonso as if an enormous dark cloud had fallen from the sky and was resting on the water. Just as they were about to enter the fog, several small dark gray objects leapt out of the sea and shot over the bow of the ship. They looked like bats.

"Flyin' fish!" roared Vice Admiral Purcheezie with a burst of girlish laughter. "I haven't seen them in years."

Just then another of these fish smacked into the windshield in front of them. This startled Hill and he stumbled backwards into Vice Admiral Purcheezie, causing her to drop the mug of coffee she was holding.

"Watch yourself!" she growled.

Alfonso's eyes grew wide with alarm. It was exactly what Bilblox had foreseen.

"Vice Admiral, watch out!" yelled Alfonso at the top of his lungs. "There's gonna be a low-lying iceberg just off the starboard bow! You've got to turn now!"

"What in tarnation are you talkin' about?" asked the vice admiral. She peered ahead and saw an ominous shape loom into view. "Holy smokes, yer right! Hold on, we're goin' full-tilt to port!" The vice admiral grabbed the steering wheel and spun it quickly to the left. The boat lurched violently to port. Books fell off shelves and bottles clattered to the floor. Below deck, Hellen—who was still cleaning up from breakfast—screamed as her pans and dishes fell from their shelves and crashed to the floor.

The
Success Story
veered sharply out of the path of the iceberg and missed it only by several feet. The vice admiral let out a sigh of relief. "I can't believe I didn't see it," she said. "A few seconds more, and this ship woulda been sunk."

She turned to Alfonso with a fierce look in her eyes. "Young man," she said, "how in blazes did ya see that comin'?"

A
LFONSO
stared back at the vice admiral. What could he say? He was a truthful boy, but how could he explain that Bilblox had taken the burnt ash from a magical plant, rubbed it into his eyes, and by doing so, foreseen an iceberg that could sink their ship? It was absurd. Even though Alfonso knew that this is
exactly
what happened, he could hardly believe it himself.

So instead of telling the truth, he told the vice admiral that Bilblox had a dream the night before that they would hit an iceberg. "It got me pretty worried," Alfonso explained, "so I guess I was on the lookout."

Fortunately, Vice Admiral Purcheezie believed this yarn. Tears welled up in her eyes and she embraced Alfonso with the tenderness of a proud grandmother. "Ya saved m' ship, lad,"
she said. Her voice choked with emotion. "Sure, the
Success Story
is an icebreaker, but it's pretty old and that iceberg would've snapped it in two. Ya saved my ship and the whole Nordenskjöld family is in yer debt."

"Don't be too grateful," replied Alfonso.

"An' why not?" she asked.

"Because it's our fault that the black ship is following us," said Alfonso. "I think they want something we have."

"Tell me somethin' I don't know," she replied with a chortle. "I knew ya were smugglin' somethin' from the moment I laid eyes upon ya."

"You did?" inquired Alfonso.

Alfonso looked nervously at Hill, who was just getting up. He had fallen during the near miss with the iceberg and was bleeding from a large gash on the forehead.

"I'm feeling a bit shaky," he murmured.

"Go see Hellen," said the vice admiral. "She'll fix you up."

Hill nodded groggily and headed down the tight staircase to the deck below in search of Hellen. Alfonso attempted to escort him, but Hill waved him off. Reluctantly, Alfonso returned to the bridge.

"How'd you know about us smuggling something?" Alfonso asked the vice admiral.

"I've been in this business for more than half a century," she replied. "I can spot a smuggler a hundred yards away and the three of ya had it written all over yer faces."

"I suppose we should tell you what we're smuggling—"

"Don't ya dare!" barked the vice admiral. "I don't want to know a blasted thing. Ya don't ask about my cargo and I don't ask about yers. That's how it goes with smugglers. That way, if
we ever got boarded, I can say I honestly had no idea that this young lad was smugglin' her majesty's royal jewels—"

"But we're not smuggling jewels," interjected Alfonso.

"I don't want to know!" bellowed the vice admiral. "Now come here and help me keep watch over the sea. I need those eyes of yers. This fog is thicker than clam chowder 'n there are icebergs all around us." Alfonso nodded and stood next to the vice admiral as they peered out the front windshield of the ship.

After two intense hours, the fog lifted and revealed a dozen or so massive icebergs floating nearby. Most were at least a hundred feet tall and colored a very bright blue, especially in contrast with the dark waters. It was exciting stuff, being so close, but Alfonso also felt small and powerless. One wrong move, and the
Success Story
—and everything in it—might end up on the bottom of the North Pacific.

"Where are we?" asked Alfonso.

"Still in the thick of an ice field," said the vice admiral. "But we're very close."

"To what?"

"We'll be makin' a pit stop at one of these bergs and now I'm just tryin' to find it," she explained. "It's a great big berg with two giant horns of ice and it belongs to a nasty character by the name of Lars."

Alfonso stared at the desolate iceberg-filled water. How could anyone live around here?

"I don't blame ya fer bein' surprised," said the vice admiral. "Only smugglers and thieves know 'bout him. This Lars fella took over an iceberg and hollowed it out with rooms and meetin' areas and those kinds a things. It doesn't get a
lot of unwanted attention, so it's been a regular stop on my route fer many years now. Ya can spend the night, get some decent fried whale, pick up some provisions, and—most importantly—sell a bit of
merchandise,
no questions asked." She squinted into the distance and nodded enthusiastically. "Ah, there it is," she said. "Dead ahead of us." Roughly a mile or so in front of them was a tall, very narrow iceberg with two slender horns of ice protruding up. It looked as if a Viking was underwater with only his helmet sticking up out of the ocean.