Salamaine's Curse (29 page)

“I'll miss Tom,” Mudge said, “but I think being chased by a mob of hungry scavengers is worse.”

Willa laughed and shook her head. “Right,” she said, then leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss on Tom's cheek. “Come back soon.”

Tom froze. He could actually
feel
an idiotic grin forming on his lips, but was completely powerless to remove it. Just as he couldn't stop the fiery blush from heating his cheeks. Needing something, anything else to focus on, he turned away. Tom found himself staring directly into his brother's icy blue eyes.

Tom hesitated, unsure of what to say.
Good-bye? See ya later?
Nothing seemed appropriate.

Porter studied him for a moment in silence, then a wry smile curved his lips. “If you're waiting because you think you're going to get a good-bye kiss from me, don't hold your breath.”

Tom laughed. “Best news I've heard all day.”

Handshakes followed, and more hugs, and finally it was time to go. Zaputo's men joined them in the courthouse lobby. Apparently they were determined to sail with the first light as well.

As they all moved toward the door, however, Zaputo abruptly stopped. His dark gaze fixed on Tom's tee shirt. He jabbed his thick finger against the Lost Academy insignia embroidered on the pocket. “What is this?” he demanded.

Tom blinked. His gaze shot to Porter, Willa, and Mudge, who looked as confused as he was. “What?”

“Why do you wear this badge?”

“That's …” Tom hesitated, not sure what to say. “That's the emblem of the Lost Academy. Mortimer Lost—

“You know Mortimer Lost?”

Tom froze, too stunned to think. Of all the words he would have expected to come from Salvador Zaputo's mouth,
You know Mortimer Lost?
had to be among the most impossible to imagine.

“Yes,” Tom finally managed. “I know Mortimer Lost. He's the one who sent me here.”

Zaputo's eyes narrowed. “He was your captain before you boarded the
Purgatory?”

“My … my captain?”

Although the words came out as a question, Tom felt the pieces of a puzzle slide firmly into place. The bells. The constant clanging and clamor of bells at mealtimes, bedtime, and classroom shifts. Lost ran the Academy with the same harsh discipline and efficiency as a captain ran a ship. That much he understood. But the rest? Fighting pirates? Exploring dangerous waters? Absolutely not. And yet … he'd seen the headmaster, battle lazy instructors, overbearing parents, and classroom bullies, never backing down an inch.

His head spun in confusion. He looked to Umbrey for an answer.

“Aye, lad. You're wearing his insignia. That was Mortimer's flag.”

“Mortimer's
flag?”

“Aye. His flag.”

Zaputo let out a breath as a look of relief came over his face. “Twenty-five years ago, I battled your captain. The
Crimson Belle
ran aground and my men and I faced certain death. Mortimer Lost chose to spare our lives.” He pressed something into Tom's hand. “Give him this from me. Tell him Salvador Zaputo has paid his debt.”

Tom stood near the
Purgatory's
bow, watching the waves strike the hull. Umbrey, apparently satisfied the ship was properly under way, came to join him. Tom looked at him. “I'm worried about Terrum.”

“Worrying won't help. If there's something we can do to stop Vivienne, we'll do it. No sense getting worked up about it until we know what we're up against.”

Tom sighed, acknowledging the truth of Umbrey's words. Then he asked, “Why didn't you ever tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“About Lost.”

Umbrey bit into an apple he'd pocketed before leaving the courthouse. He gave a careless shrug, saying around a mouthful of fruit, “I guess I thought you should be able to figure out
some
things for yourself.” He glanced over his shoulder at Tom and arched a wiry brow. “You're surprised, lad?”

Surprised?
More like astounded. His stiff-backed, narrow-minded, rules-loving, grim-faced, strict disciplinarian headmaster, Mortimer Lost, had once sailed a ship? It was almost impossible to imagine.

“Now
there
was a captain,” Umbrey continued, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the ship's rail. A faraway expression came upon him. “Ol' Morty. Completely fearless. He'd sail anywhere, anytime. Tough on his crew, but he never lost a man under his watch, which is a better record than I can boast.”

Tom shook his head. “I don't know what to say.”

Umbrey smiled. “He's the one who amassed the information your father needed for his maps, you'll remember. His scribe. Gathered stories, interrogated native peoples, surveyed the earth and sky. He taught me everything I know about running a ship

Tom knew Lost and Umbrey had a history, but he never imagined this. He mulled it over. The new knowledge didn't make him
like
Lost. Definitely not. All the same, he felt a small seed of grudging respect take root.

“Never saw a man who loved the sea as much as old Mortimer,” Umbrey continued.

“If he loved it so much, why'd he leave it?”

Umbrey looked at him as though the answer should have been perfectly obvious. “Why, to protect you, of course. Keep you out of Keegan's grasp. When your father found a way to the Other Side, there was no other man trusted to bring you there and keep you safe.”

Tom's stomach twisted. He felt as though he'd eaten too much of all the wrong things. Lost had given up a life at sea to protect him. Suddenly all his clever pranks didn't seem so clever anymore. Climbing the rooftops, silencing the bells, and most recently, dressing Fred up as a pirate and setting him afloat.

“But why—”

“That's enough, lad. You want to know anything else, you can ask him yourself. We're almost there.” Umbrey tilted his chin forward. The mist they'd been sailing through abruptly parted and Tom recognized the Forbidden Lake.

He was home.

Tom had hoped to slip back to his dorm room unnoticed. But the moment he stepped off the Purgatory's gangway and onto the dock, a tall, lanky figure dressed in an old-fashion suit emerged from the shadows near the boathouse.

“Mr. Hawkins,” Professor Lost said, “you have returned.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I trust everything went smoothly?”

Smoothly? Not exactly. Not sure how many details Lost wanted to hear, Tom simply replied, “We destroyed the Black Book of Pernicus. There are no more scavengers.”

“Very good. And your voyage? I trust that was satisfactory as well.”

“The Purgatory sailed up a waterfall to return here. I would have sworn that was impossible.”

Professor Lost sent him a disapproving scowl. “Rarely is anything impossible, Mr. Hawkins. Some things are simply more difficult than others.”

As Lost seemed to have a destination in mind, Tom fell into step beside him. They walked in silence until they reached the beach clearing.

“You were a sea captain,” Tom said haltingly. “I never knew that.”

Professor Lost paused, looked at him, then gave a haughty sniff. “I have no doubt the world is full of facts of which you are blissfully ignorant.”

“I brought something back for you. From Salvador Zaputo. He says his debt is paid.”

He passed Zaputo's necklace to Professor Lost and watched as he opened it.

“Remarkable,” Lost muttered. “A mana seed. I never would have dreamed.”

“Do you miss the sea?” Tom asked.

Lost gave a beleaguered sigh. “We cannot predict where the tides of life will carry us, Mr. Hawkins. For now, it is my thankless task to try to impart tiny bits of knowledge into your thick skull. I do enjoy a challenge.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you ever been lost, Mr. Hawkins?”

“Lost, sir?”

“It is a simple question. One that is fully within your capabilities to answer.” Professor Lost slowly repeated it. “Have you ever been lost?”

Tom thought about it. “No. Never.”

“Show me the southeast.”

Tom pointed it out immediately.

Lost nodded. “Just as I suspected. An internal compass. A genetic gift given to you by virtue of being the mapmaker's son. I would venture to guess your brother shares the same trait, should you one day care to ask him. Of some use, I suppose. There are several dim-witted fellows among our population here at the academy who would be quite impressed by such gifts.”

Tom smiled.

“I, however, am not one of them. Any more than I would be impressed by a man's height or the color of his eyes.”

Tom's smile faded.

Lost gave a curt nod. “That which is truly of value rests within each of us. A moral compass. An ability not only to discern right from wrong, but to act upon it—always and without hesitation. Once you truly understand that, then I will have taught you what your father wanted you to know.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now then.” Lost looked around for a moment, then he selected a shovel left by the groundskeepers and passed it to Tom. He pointed to the ground. “Right there should be fine.”

“Sir?”

“A hole, Mr. Hawkins.”

Professor Lost watched Tom dig. When he'd finished, he dropped the mana seed inside. Tom covered it up with dirt.

“You think it will bear fruit?” Tom asked.

Professor Lost straightened, locking his hands behind his back. He stared down at Tom. “It's a wonderful and wicked world, Mr. Hawkins. Our actions, our words, our wishes, all have repercussions. Just like the ripples on that lake. We may not know at the time what they are, but we must believe.”

“Believe what?”

“One day there will be mana.”

Umbrey's voice carried out to them. “Here's the boat you wanted, Morty!” he said, tugging a wooden rowboat along the edge of the lake.

Lost's brows snapped together. “Do not call me Morty. And that vessel is not for me. It's for Mr. Hawkins.”

Tom frowned. “Me, sir?”

“It appears your ill-conceived actions have set off a chain of events, as well. Apparently Fred has been launched again. You will retrieve him at once, then report to my office and we will discuss the appropriate penance for your demerits.”