the plaid identity

i decided that i should not let my inate fear of finishing things keep this lovely boardfic in dormancy.

so i'm going to start writing it again.

be excited.

I woke up with sand in my ears. And in my hair, and my nose, and my pants. I only had one sock on, and it was wet. All of me was wet, come to that. Wet and itchy, and full of sand. My mind absorbed these details carefully, trying to find an appropriate shelf on which to store them. To my horror it found all the shelves empty, and even the librarian missing. I sat up and looked out at the tide coming in.

I'm on a beach, I thought. 'I'm on a beach,' I announced to the seagulls. 'I'm on a beach and it's cold and I don't know who I am!'

With some difficulty I got up, shivering in the coastal wind. Luckily I did succeed in locating both of my boots, but not the other sock. I tried to rinse the one I had out in the tide, but this only resulted in my sock and my trousers and my hands getting rather muddy. The tide was trying to push me out of its way. It started to rain. Shoving my sandy toes into my sand-filled boots, I ran for the trees above the shore.

To its credit, the forest was in a small way shelter from the wind and rain, but it was dark, damp, and it smelled terrible.

I made myself relatively comfortable beneath the fronds of an enormous bush. It was drier and warmer down here, if dirtier, and I unbuttoned my soggy coat and wriggled out of it, dislodging much sand and a few crawly things, which I grimaced at and shooed away. Everything in my wallet that wasn't a muddy coin was a mass of dissolving paper mush and runny ink. I looked through the rest of my pockets and found some rusted nail clippers, a broken key chain, also rusted, and a book. It was small, wet, and falling apart. The cover said T oly Boo f O in gold lettering, and I could just make out the embossed letters h, e, H, k, o, and m where the gold had once been but no longer remained. The contents were unreadable. The leather cover was bent and stained with ink and the pages soaked to lumpy pieces. I put it back in my coat pocket and tried to clean the gritty muck from under my fingernails.

'I w-w-wonder if I c-c-c-c-could sss-s-ss-st-t-t-tt-start a fire,' I said, finding comfort in my new habit of talking to myself. Maybe, once it stopped raining.... I looked up at the sky and its deceptively warm-looking thickness and I knew that it would never stop raining. The clouds looked like they were going to swallow the land up and digest it and poor me in the heighths of its cold bowels. I scowled at the weather. I scowled at my boots as I took them off and poured forth mounds of sand and shells. I scowled at my soggy toes. I scowled at my soggy coat as I pulled it over my knees. I shivered and rubbed my hands over my arms.

And then I heard a moan and a loud, rickety laugh. I stood up, not wanting to share the night in a dark wood with some unknown lunatic. A short walk in the direction of the outburst revealed beyond the trees a grubby figure sitting in a shallow puddle, holding a llama on the end of a rope. He was talking in a deep whisper. My eyes widened and the llama stopped in mid-sentence to look up at me.

I felt it necessary to say something. 'I.....' I began. 'I'm hungry,' I blurted, suddenly distracted by my grumbling stomach. I looked around absently, not knowing what to say anymore. The llama was still staring at me. The man--no, boy, I decided--next to him was twiddling a stick in his puddle of mud; I don't think he knew I was standing there.

The llama spoke. 'Don't worry, there'll be pie once the rain slows up. You like plaid, do you?' he asked, nodding pointedly at my clothing. I looked down at it myself and opened my mouth to make a few non-commital ums followed by a gaping pause and a blank look. He went on, 'Not many girls could pull off those trousers with that shirt. But on you, and with that belt, it looks... right. Though,' he paused and blinked, considering my attire thoughtfully, 'probably the sand helps.'

The only thing I ended up saying in response to this was, 'Who are you?' I wasn't sure if llamas normally possessed such powers of articulation, but I didn't much care. After all, if this was just a dream so much the better---I'd be glad to wake up beneath a warm, dry, and clean comforter.

'Brad. Brad the wonder llama. And who might you be?'

I had no answer to that, and anyway ignored it and focused on the much more interesting bit about wonder llamas. 'Wonder llama?' I said skeptically. He looked anything but wondrous. Wet, yes, and slightly forlorn because of this, but not very awe-inspiring. As I was raising my eyebrows in question to the creature's status as 'wonder llama,' the filthy figure in the puddle stood up and introduced himself.

'My name,' he said, extending his hand drippingly for me to shake, 'is Hermes. You don't know who you are, do you?'

I was surprised at his insight, and could only shake my head in silent astonishment. He nodded in a sympathetic way and went on. 'Happened to all of us. Most of us, I mean. Not Brad. Brad says it's the water... lethal, or ...leaky.... something like that, he called it. He says it's best to just eat the pie.'

'Pie?' I wondered aloud. 'What pie?'

'You'll see, Plaid,' the llama told me. 'Let's get out of this rain, shall we?'

He proceeded to lead the man holding the end of his rope through a gap in the trees, deeper into the woods. I followed them, thinking about food, wondering about pie, and almost forgetting all about the coat and boots I had left under a bush. Luckily I remembered these before too long, and, smiling because I could remember at least this, shouted, 'Wait! My boots--' and ducked back through the trees to find them. The wonder llama couldn't expect me to tramp through soggy underbrush with bare feet, could he?

Re-donning the boots and the heavy wet coat, I rejoined my new friends and we re-commenced our march. Nobody said anything until we reached a makeshift doorway of driftwood and cardboard. Hermes went up to it and shifted it away from the entrance to a cave. The air inside felt warm and we all hurried in out of the rain.

Once Hermes shut the door the rain's patter faded into a soft hum. Brad the wonder llama led us through the black interior of an underground passage. The floor was strewn with sand, which was damp in some places but for the most part dry and much warmer than the beach outside. The air smelled heavenly. My stomach continued to grumble and I began seeing hallucinations of food in the darkness. I couldn't see the llama or Hermes, but I felt their presences just ahead of me and followed the sounds of hooves and flopping sandals.

It was only a few minutes before we reached a large, dimly lit room where a few dozen people were congregated. As we entered some of them looked up and gave a 'hiya' to Brad and Hermes. A few of them glanced at me curiously, some of them smiled. I was intent on taking in the space before me. There were incense burners all over the place. They were shelves made of driftwood in the corners, log benches all around the room, and on the stone wall opposite the entrance there were a multitude of paintings and sketches merging into a very detailed, very colorful, very chaotic and dominating mural.

'Nice place, this is. I've only been here three days and I'm getting along fine,' Hermes said. He took my elbow and brought me into the center of the room. Brad whistled loudly (I'm really not sure how he, as a llama, accomplished this, but he did it very expertly) and the room fell silent.

'Brad calls this young lady Plaid, on account of she's wearing quite a lot of it,' Hermes introduced me briefly to the crowd.

'Do any of you ladies have an extra set of clothes she could use? I expect you want a dry set of clothes, Plaid?' Brad asked.

'Well, yeah...if...' I mumbled.

'I do, Brad,' one girl volunteered. 'Nothing in plaid,' she said to me, 'but if you want to I'll let you borrow them until yours dry out.'

I smiled in thanks and followed her.

'I was lucky,' the girl continued, 'I washed up on shore with most of my luggage. I've got three or four days worth of clothes and a bottle of shampoo. Which is very nice to have, let me tell you, though I do have to use it sparingly. There isn't much left.'

'How long have you been here?' I asked. We were descending a tight, disjointed spiral staircase cut into the sandy soil.

'I don't know anymore, it's been a long time. I don't remember anything from before I came here, so as far as my memory's concerned I've been here forever. Oh---you can call me Buzzfloyd, by the way. Brad didn't know what he should call me, so he let me choose my own name. I like the sound of Buzzfloyd.'

'So Brad gives you all names? What makes him the one in charge?'

At the bottom of the staircase was a door, and as buzzfloyd opened it she looked at me. 'Well, why not? He is the one that brought us here and shared the pie of Ba with us. He's a very good llama, you know.'

'I guess so,' I said, since he had been nice to me. We were now proceeding through a dark, sloped corridor. 'Hey, what is all this pie everyone keeps mentioning?'

Buzzfloyd turned off into a room and pulled a curtain away from the small window. It was still raining, I could see.

'Well,' she began, sitting down on the floor, 'I think you'd better just wait and see for yourself. You'll enjoy it. I never get sick of pie, and I've been eating it for as long as I can remember.'

The room we were in had actual walls, made of brick. There was a row of porcelain sinks along one side of the room and across from them a rack of some sort, upon which were hung a collection of clothes. Buzzfloyd told me to pick whatever I thought would fit me and that I could change behind one of the doors there.

Upon investigation I realized we were in a public washroom. Buzzfloyd had hung her entire wardrobe over the fronts of the stalls. I peeled my soaking, dirty clothes off and thankfully donned Buzzfloyd's clean, dry jeans and a wooly jumper while the two of us chatted about how much it usually rained and what kind of pie she was guessing we'd get once it stopped.

'Do you have a favourite kind of pie?' she asked.

'I don't remember,' I admitted as we retraced our steps.

There was an argument going on when we reached the room full of incense. At least it seemed like an argument to me. There was a tall figure berating a shorter humble looking one and everyone was crowded around, watching and murmuring.

The taller guy spoke. 'This is all your fault, Nester,' he said sternly, almost shouting. 'You were on Fred duty this week. He could have died in that mess! What do you have to say for yourself?!'

Nester cowered, fearful, and appologized in a trembling voice.

'Saying sorry won't help you. The entire dining hall is wrecked, and it's all because of you!'

At this point Buzzfloyd gasped and pushed her way into the crowd to find out the details. I heard bits of conversation: '..was awful..' '...just collapsed on him...' '...yeah, good thing Orrdos came, thank Ba...' '...thrown in the yak pit for sure...'

I wondered who Fred was. And what had happened to him. And what could be so bad about a pit full of yaks? I looked around for Brad, hoping to ask him to explain things, but he was nowhere to be found.

Someone yelled, 'Do a quickmatch, Doors! Yak pit or the big Garner!'

'Or the zombies!' someone else added.

The man I presumed was called 'Doors' looked thoughtful and then nodded.

'That's the way it will be decided. Nester, stand up.' The nervous man did so, and Doors continued. 'Even if you did neglect my elephant in a most serious way, I will let you vote first.'

The crowd giggled as Doors gave Nester a choice between the yak pit, the volcano, and the river of zombies, describing each in careful detail. Nester squirmed and flinched, trying to shut his eyes to the images of filthy, smelly yaks, and sharp, icy flames, and eerie, slippery, silently grasping ghosts... Everyone grew quiet as they watched him weighing the options in his mind.

'Come on,' Doors prodded him. 'You've got fifteen seconds. Decide, so everyone else can vote.'

Nester sighed and mumbled his choice dejectedly. Doors wrote it down on the back of a large palm leaf and told everyone to wait their turn and not try and vote all at once.

[b:3e78eb382d]middle, further middle, etc.[/b:3e78eb382d]

Orrdos left Nester to squirm for two days while the voting went on. He sat in on a log under the mural and muttered to himself about his stupidity in neglecting Fred, watching as one by one the others added tally marks to the palm leaf, and altogether looking very forlorn and hopeless. I felt sorry for him.

'Hey,' I called to a passing redhead, 'what did he do wrong, anyway?'

She looked at me curiously for a minute. 'Oh, that's right, you're new... Plaid, isn't it?'

I nodded, somewhat noncommitally accepting my new name. She went on, 'Well, you should meet Fred. that will be easier than trying to explain it all.' The woman had me follow her through the same passageways I had gone with buzzfloyd. 'Fred is Orrdos's elephant,' she told me. 'Orrdos cares about him a lot, but since he's so busy he can't watch over him all the time, so he gets his friends to help out. We call them 'the doormen,' Rincewind and Colonesque, and Nester too. Nester hasn't had much experience with Fred yet, so it's understandable that he messed it up... but it's a serious offence, neglecting doors's elephant.'

'What will they do to him? Does he really deserve--'

'The Yak Pit? or the Volcano? Well, we wouldn't leave him in very long. Even Orrdos isn't that harsh. And Nester was the cause of all this.'

With those words she forced open a door and we beheld a mess of splintered wood, mangled metal, and broken chunks of brick. There were a few people working among the dirt and rubble, trying to remove the ruins of what must have been picnic tables.

'How is it Nester's fault,' I said slowly, 'if an elephant did this...' I was confused. Anyone who tried to keep an elephant in a small, underground room like this had to expect things to get broken. At least, if an elephant was as big as I thought it was....

'You'll see, you'll see Plaid. Come on,' she said. We carefully made our way through the disaster area to a door on the other side. It led through a kitchen area, which was slightly less of a mess, and then into a halway. This one was well lit, as opposed to the corridor I'd been through with buzzfloyd. My companion went up to one of the many doors lining the hall and knocked.

Orrdos opened it and looked at us questioningly. 'Yes?' he asked.

The redhead smiled politely and explained that I was curious about Fred, and asked if could we please come in and see him, if he was feeling well enough?

'Alright,' he said. 'but be quiet. He's asleep.'

The room into which Orrdos allowed the two of us to pass was cluttered with clothing. In a partitioned corner there was a large blue quilt draped over a snoring elephant. So this is Fred, I thought, staring down at the peaceful-looking mound of ears and trunk and flab. I was amazed that this creature could be the same one who wrecked the room we'd walked through just minutes ago. Fred looked no bigger than the heaps of laundry around him....but he seemed flickery....blurry, almost.

I looked at the two others. They were watching Fred intently, waiting for something. I turned my attention back to the elephant and gasped as it's skin grew pink and then faded back to grey.

'That's Fred,' the girl next to me smiled.

'Does he always do that?' I asked.

'Quite often,' Orrdos told me. 'And that as well,' he said, pointing at Fred. I looked and saw that the elephant was shrinking steadily. the blanket collapsed around him as he diminished into a mere handful of elephantness. I was astonished.

'But.......why?' was all I could think to say.

'That's Fred,' the girl said again, with a slight shrug. 'He can get emormously huge as well. Orrdos has him trained though. He lets us know if he needs to go out.'

Orrdos frowned. 'How is the voting looking, Emma?' he asked her.

'Need you ask? You know the Yak pit is most popular.'

Orrdos shook his head and sat down on a pile of outfits. I was still absorbed in watching Fred shift between opaque purple and a transparent silver while modulating between the size of a baseball and the size of a watermelon.

'You two will stay and have pie down here, won't you? I don't want to leave Fred.'

Emma said, 'Certainly, Doors, we'd be glad to, wouldn't we, Plaid?'

I didn't answer until I felt them both looking at me. 'What?'

'Doors asked us to have pie with him and Fred. Is that alright with you?'

Remembering pie made me remember how hungry I was. I said, 'Sure,' and tore my eyes away from the bizzare elephant. 'When are we having it?'

'After the rain stops. Probably soon,' Emma said.

'What kind do you think it'll be today?' Orrdos said by way of filling the silence.

'Well, Samantha dreamed about coconuts after her trip to The Words last night. I hate coconut pie though....I'm hoping for apple.'

'Apple... yeah, we haven't had apple for a few weeks. The lemon merangue a few days ago was wonderful. I love lemon merangue.'

'You know the kind we never have--chocolate. I pray to Ba for chocolate all the time and he only gives it to us once in a blue moon.'

'But there are sprinkles, remember. Ba giveth sprinkles liberally unto them that are faithful.'

'Sprinkles?' I said, interrupting their conversation.

'Not as good as regular chocolate pie, Plaid,' Emma told me, 'but they go great with almost all the other kinds of pie.'

'How many kinds are there?' I was intrigued by all this talk of pie, and almost dying to know what it was like.

'Oh, probably an infinite number. Ba is all-powerful, after all.'

Ah, it's all coming back to me now.

*wipes tear from eye*

And I can demand more knowing that there will be.

'That's another thing--who is this Ba person? Do I get to meet him?'

Emma shook her head, 'Only a few of us have ever met the Ba. Sometimes there are messages in the pie, but we never actually see the Ba. Doors has,' she nodded in his direction and he tried to look modest.

'But, who exactly is he?' I repeated.

'Ba is the god of Pie, of course. Or more officially, Ba Witda, God of Unspeakable Culinary Acts and Pie.' Orrdos saw me about to ask more questions and continued to explain, 'No one knows about the unspeakable culinary acts. We don't talk about them...'unspeakable,' see? but the Pie of Ba sustains all life on this island. And any who fail to worship the Ba risks the Ba's wrath and torture by thunderspork.'

I was silent for a moment while Orrdos rummaged around beneath a tangle of socks, and then asked 'What on earth is a thunderspork?'

He was prepared, and held up a plastic spork for my perusal. 'Imagine one of these,' he said, 'made of black, firey lightning, falling out of the clouds. Ba uses them to curse the wicked.'

I swallowed nervously and wondered if he was merely trying to frighten me. 'Really?' I looked at Emma, who smiled and put her hand on my shoulder.

'Not very often,' she said. 'The Ba's thundersporks are an extreme measure for the extremely wicked.'

'Like...like who?' I needed an example. 'Has it really happened to someone before? Have you actually seen--'

'It happens,' Doors said seriously. 'Believe me, it happens. Not always where we can see it. Believe in thundersporks, Plaid.'

Nobody spoke for a while after that, and questions kept piling up in my mind. I fiddled with the plastic spork and tried to ignore my grumbling stomach. Fred was oscillating between various sizes and colors beneath his quilt. As I watched he turned navy, and sand coloured, and then grey again. I listened to the rain on the windows, hoping it would stop soon.

All three of us looked toward the door as the sound of footsteps--wait, no, they were hooves clicking on the floor outside. It must be Brad, I thought. Orrdos moved to the door, and just as he predicted, the visitor stopped outside it and shouted that he didn't want to head-but the door, so could someone just open it for him?

[b:1c2f43539a]some more[/b:1c2f43539a]

Brad came in and kicked his way past what looked like a hockey mask and some long, pink tights which were tangled up in the doorway.

'I just heard what happened. Fred's alright I see. Good. Hi Plaid, I see you've met Emma. Alright, Emma?'

After Emma nodded and smiled at the llama there was a pause before Brad continued. 'I've come about the Sock Wars, as you might have expected. It's that time again and I've just sent Hermes to find Captain Malory or one of his crew and read them our proposals. I'll need you to take up your post as usual, are you prepared?'

All this was to Orrdos, who looked somewhat grave and merely nodded in response. Brad went on, 'You know how important this is. By the great almighty Ba I need you to pull through like last time. Are you sure you can do it?'

'I can. You know I can,' Orrdos said, smiling a little.

I leaned over to Emma and said, 'What are they talking about?'

She waited until Brad was satisfied with Orrdos's commitment to the cause and then began to explain The Sock Wars, with brief interruptions once in a while from Doors, who busied himself moving laundry around in an attempt to organize the room.

Emma thought for a moment before deciding how best to begin. First, she solicited Doors' help in pinpointing the precise origin of the Sock Wars. After acknowledging that they had begun some time before her arrival on the island she went on something like this:

'The Sock Wars are a tradition we have. I've been told that no one knows how it started, but everyone has stories...and Brad might actually know and just not want to tell us.
'Anyway, how the annual sock--'

'Actually it's not annual, Emma. We don't keep track of the months or years, you know that. It's just whenever Brad or Mal feels like it.'

Emma rolled her eyes at Orrdos and went on, 'He's right, but anyway--how the sock wars usually go is like this: either Brad or Mal---Captain Malory is his formal title, but we call him Mal, like Brad tells us to think of him as Brad the Wonder Llama, but everyone just calls him Brad--- either Brad or Mal will send out the invitation--the 'war' proposal I guess they call it. That's the signal to prepare for the sock wars. We all have about a fortnight to get ready. Maljonic's always coming up with new strategies to get at our socks. And he's got an advantage...none of his crew have ever drunk the ocean water. And they have their ship. They also have more socks than we do. But Brad is determined to beat them again like we did last year--'

Orrdos coughed here and Emma rolled her eyes again.

'I know it might not have been an actual year ago, Doors, but isn't it logical? Having annual Sock Wars makes sense to me. We have them regularly enough to set a calandar by.'

Orrdos ignored this and walked into the closet with an armload of laundry. Emma turned back to me and lowered her voice.

'Honestly, nobody around here takes the sock wars very seriously--'

'Listen!' I stood up and went to the window. 'Has it stopped raining?' I'd been concentrating on the dripping sounds for several minutes. Hungry, and trying with all my might to will the rain to cease, hoping against hope, praying to whoever and wherever the great Ba might be, I pulled back the curtain and tried to ascertain whether or not the drops I saw falling were actual raindrops or merely drips from the leaves hanging above. 'Come look,' I said to Emma. 'Do you think it's stopped?'

Somewhat startled by this outburst she joined me at the window and peered out. 'It definitely has slowed up a little. You must be starving. Don't worry, the pie will come in its own time.'

Suddenly Orrdos shouted from the closet, 'Hold on, I can't hear you properly. I'll be right there.'

Emma swiveled around to look down where Fred had been sleeping. He was now awake and looking very refreshed. Emma smiled down at the roughly tiger-sized elephant and told him she hoped he was feeling better. I remained silent and tried not to stare impolitely at the polka-dots sprouting all over his white-ish skin.

Orrdos, after a brief fight with a few hockey sticks and a straw hat, emerged from the closet with a large blue sock stuck on his ear. He looked at Fred expectantly for a moment, then nodded a few times. His gaze then transfered to me. It was intent. My face grew warm and I let my eyes wander, avoiding his look.

'Fred, are you sure?' he asked, still looking at me. Emma, curious, had now turned and added her gaze to that of Orrdos. I backed slightly away from them both.

'I'll go get the Doormen, they have to know---' Orrdos had his hand on the knob of the door and then turned back to Fred. In the silence Emma and I looked on as some seriously weird form of communication went on between the elephant, who was now a pastel green, and the guy standing on the other side of the room.

Orrdos looked at Fred and furrowed his brow, letting go of the doorknob. 'Well...' he said. 'Well, you are right about that. But--'

There was another pause and all eyes were on Fred once more. Doors shook his head. 'Of course, okay. Okay, we'll wait. We'll wait. How long, though?'

Again, the rain dripped perforation into the silence.

'That long, Fred? Will it really take that long? I don't think---'

Then the pie came. I don't know how. I didn't care how. Emma and Doors both whispered a brief 'thanks be to Ba' before they took out their sporks and ate, but I simply devoured the pie. I don't even remember what kind it was, or what it tasted like. I just remember being ravenous and cramming pie into my mouth like my life depended on it.

Afterwards I fell asleep and dreamed about sporks......all different colors of sporks.....


---------------------------------------


I woke up in the dark. The room was empty and I'd been covered Fred's blue quilt. I rolled over and went back to sleep.

The voice of Orrdos woke me up in the morning. He said, 'Plaid, get up. There's something Brad needs to ask you about.'

I murmured sleepily and rolled my face into quilt. Brad's voice was louder, from the hallway outside, 'Quick, this is important!'

I sat up and scowled. 'What?' I groaned, still tired and slightly achey.

Orddos took my hand to pull me up. 'Come on, it shouldn't take long.'

Out in the corridor Brad took one look at my bare feet and sighed disappointedly. 'You don't have any socks?'

I looked at him dumbly for a minute and then mumbled, 'I...did have one... but it's ....full of wet sand...and I left it with my other clothes ....somewhere else. Why?'

'Emma told me she explained the sock wars to you.'

I started to feel kind of guilty at this point, for not having a decent pair of socks and for not having listened very carefully--okay, not really at all--to what Emma had been going on about the day before. Brad was looking rather disdainfully at me. I mumbled some more about how yes, she had, kind of....but...

Brad didn't care much and went on, 'How do you feel about,' he lowered his voice, 'spying?'

'Spying? On...who...?'

'We'll get to that. Are you willing, is the question.'

'Um--' I said, looking at Orrdos helplessly.

'He's asking you because you're new. Unknown to the enemy, still annoymous. All you need to do is---'

Brad cut Doors off. 'We will get to the details later. If you're not willing, we needn't bother. If you don't care to be a spy for us you can just stay here and be decoy with the other ....conscientious objectors. Which is it Plaid? Quick, Hermes will be back --'

'You might want to check with Sam before you ask Plaid here to join her in decoyism--' Orrdos interrupted, earning an impatient glare from the llama. 'All I'm saying is it might be a good idea to check with her before hand, that's all I'm saying.'

With that he wandered away down the corridor. Brad, after reluctantly considering Doors' words, turned back to me and resumed his demands. 'Stay or go, Plaid? Tell me now.'

I flipped a mental coin and said I'd go, I guess.

'Great, come with me.' He led the way through further corridors and rooms, mostly dark and quiet. 'You'll need your own clothes, hopefully Buzzfloyd hasn't washed them yet. I want you and Hermes to go together. You can work out an act on your own, but really, all you need to do is plead ignorance. Washed up amnesiacs are common enough, the Captain won't suspect a thing. Don't let on that you know me or anyone on the island. Don't talk about socks, don't wear any socks, for that matter.'

We met buzzfloyd in the stairwell. 'Plaid!' she said cheerfully, 'Plaid, Samantha and I were just going to take our washing up to the lake, do you want to come with us? We could use your help and you'll want to meet Medley and the rest of the girls.'

'Actually, we don't want Plaid's clothes washed yet. She's going to be undertaking an important mission for me, and she'll need to look a mess. And I don't want her meeting anyone else before she goes. It'll just make things more difficult. We were just coming to find you. Would you fetch those clothes for us? I've got to meet Hermes.'

Without waiting for buzzfloyd to answer Brad climbed up the rest of the stairs and made his way through the cave and tunnels back out to the woods. I followed as closely as I could.

Hermes was waiting for us with a large envelope. 'I found the good captain and he's signed it, Brad,' he announced. 'What next?'

'Good man,' Brad said approvingly--whether of Hermes or of the Captain I wasn't sure. Brad explained our mission as spies to Hermes. Hermes lit up, excited as anything. I stood looking rather dumb and apathetic as Brad lectured at us.

'It'll take a bit of doing to get you ready. I want you both in your original clothes, Hermes get all the paint stains off your hands. Don't comb your hair. I suppose I can't make you skip Pie for the next few days, but at least pretend to be starving and bewildered when you meet the crew, alright? I'm going to get Pat to fix it so you can communicate with Orrdos and I from Malory's ship. It may or may not actually work, but we're going to give it a shot this time. We'll need every advantage we can scrounge up. The most important thing is you cannot let on you know anything, so I hope you can all play dumb. Ask as many questions as you like, all in the spirit of genuine curiosity. Anything they tell you, write down. You'll start out early tomorrow. Make your way to the shore--I'll point out the best place later today--go down there before sunrise, split up, and wander aimlessly until you're found. Hermes will...oh no---Hermes, the Captain will recognize you, now that you've seen him. Stupid stupid stupid. Why didn't I think!? Plaid--I'm really--'

Hermes looked shocked and mumbled, 'You mean--I can't--I have to stay here?'

'What? I have to go alone now?' I didn't think so. Not without knowing a bit more about what was going on. 'Brad--'

'I'm afraid not Hermes. Plaid, I'm really--there's nobody else who could...'

'Wait.' Hermes was pacing, looking thoughtful. 'I'll have to check my painting supplies, but I could...yes. I'll be right back Brad. don't worry. Plaid, no worries.'

He ran off. I looked at Brad and worked up enough courage to be demanding. Before he could open his mouth I said, 'Tell me what this is all about Brad. Sock Wars? Who is this Captain Malory? What on earth is going on?'

'I'd like to know the same thing,' he muttered, staring after Hermes.

'Brad! I want you to explain it all. I need to know what I'm getting myself into!'

'Calm down, Plaid.' Brad paced a little, looking at the ground. 'It's just a tradition, Emma should have explained that to you. Harmless competition between Malory and I. He started it.' He paused and scratched his left side against a boulder. 'Honestly, Plaid, I don't think I ought to tell you more. It won't help you decieve Malory's crew if you know too much.'

'You don't think I can fake ignorance? How hard can it be?' I went into dumb-female mode and knelt to look Brad in the eye. 'Oh, Brad, what's all this talk about Pie? I don't understand it. Oh, Brad, what's that you're doing with socks, won't you be so kind as to explain it to me? Brad, you darling llama, can you tell me where exactly I am?'

He and I both looked suitably disgusted. Llama breath. Ick.

'You needn't go that far,' he said angrily. Casual, curious, but overall innocent questions ought to just work fine.'

I ignored him and pushed further. 'The more information I have the better I can serve your purpose. If you'd just be specific, I'd know what you want to know from them and how to get it.'

He looked skeptical. Hermes returned, running, breathing hard. His clothes were recognizable but his face and hair were covered with paint. Every inch of his skin was decorated with thin multi-colored lines, spots, zig-zags, and spirals.

'No one will know it's me now, right?'

'And no one will believe you just washed up on shore with all that paint either!' I stood up and looked Hermes up and down incredulously. I was beginning to think this was a waste of my time. 'Brad, what on earth is the point, may I ask? What's so important!?'

'But I can--it's waterproof paint--'

'I don't know why I even bother. You're both too new, you don't understand...'

'If you'd just explain it to us we might stand a chance.'

'See, see, it doesn't come off. I put three and a half layers on. I--'

'Hermes shut up!' I glared and saw his face fall. I felt sorry but said nothing. Brad, after a dragged out silence, spoke first.

'It'll work Hermes. I'll find a hat for you and then you'll look perfect. If you want, and this will be your own decision, I don't care whether you do it or not, you can swallow a bit more of the ocean and then we'll really be safe. You won't remember where you got the paint, you may not know who you are, but Plaid will be there. Plaid, you'll wear your plaid outfit. You'll drag your feet through the tide a few times to reconstitute the image of complete castaway, you'll wander around, stumble upon Hermes. Forget his name. Forget your name. Let Malory's crew find you and take you aboard. Find a way to make sure you stay together for the most part. Don't say anything dangerous, nothing about socks, nothing about Malory's ear, nothing about the ship or the food or the crew. Absolutely no complaining, or you'll risk getting yourself thrown overboard. As for what you're trying to find out...
'I'm not sure what to expect from Malory this time. I'll get Pat to review the history of the Sock Wars with you later on. She knows everything. All I can really tell you is to keep your ears open. Let us know any of their plans, any sock-related discussion, anything. Come back inside. Hermes, remind me to find you a hat. Remember what I said about the ocean and let me know what you decide. Plaid, you will be alright handling Hermes if he...?'

'I suppose so...' I looked at Hermes. He grinned briefly. In fact, if I poured the water down his throat he might be easier to deal with...

'Come back inside,' Brad ordered. Hermes and I followed him as he continued rambling. 'We've only got one day to sort this all out. I need you to talk to Pat. Hermes, you don't have to unless you decide to keep your memory. Decide quick. Plaid, please try and pay attention to what Pat tells you. You never know what you might need to know later on. While you're talking to her I'll get your clothes from buzzfloyd...'

I stopped listening at this point. It had all become rather too surreal. Me, a spy? Me? Well, alright, for all I knew I might be a spy. A spy with no memory.

Hermes tripped and stumbled into Brad, who began shouting at him.

When we reached the incense room it was largely empty. Nester, who was asleep and snoring, was still sitting against the wall and I wondered briefly how this whole sock war thing would affect him. If I ever got a chance I'd ask Orrdos. I was curious about the Yak Pit. Morbidly curious. Much too curious to want to miss it.

Buzzfloyd came up the stairs just then and spotted Brad. 'I've been looking for you guys. I have Plaid's clothes,' she held them out to me. 'Are you sure they can't be washed? They're still full of sand.'

I took my clothes and really hoped Brad wouldn't make me put them on until much later. Luckily he was ignoring me and my clothes and began pestering buzzfloyd for information.

'Where's Pat?'

Buzzfloyd began to say, 'Down in her---

'Would you mind taking Plaid down to see her? Tell her you need to know about the Sock Wars, Plaid. Thanks buzzfloyd. Now Hermes, I need your decision--'

buzzfloyd looked at me and we both went down the staircase. 'I'm never going to find a moment's peace to get laundry done today. Brad gets so worked up about the Sock Wars I almost can't stand it. Hopefully it'll be over soon. Here. This is Pat's study. Just knock and she'll let you in. I've got to run, but I'll see you later Plaid.'

I stood, intimidated, before the door to Pat's room. After a while I knocked. Hermes must have decided to go spying without a clue, which was fine by me. I only hoped he wouldn't prove difficult to handle.

It was a long while before anyone answered. My first glimpse of the room was through a puff of green smoke and a slightly burnt smell.

'You're just in time for pie,' the woman said. 'Come in and sit down.'

I did so, carefully setting my bundle of damp clothes down on the floor. 'Brad sent me, to learn about the sock wars. He's making me a spy. Oh, they call me Plaid.'

The woman I assumed was Pat was looking at her watch. 'Four.....Three....Two.....'

She was right on. No one had told me you could predict the appearance of pie. Maybe it came regularly. This morning's pie was rhubarb, which is sticky and a bit on the sweet side. but it was warm and filling, so I couldn't complain.

'The Sock Wars, eh?' she said, in between bites of pie. 'I guess old brad's getting a bit restless again. Well, one moment while I give Hex and Igor a few instructions. excuse me.'

She squeezed sideways between two huge bookcases at the back of the room and disappeared. The room was full of bookcases. They weren't full of books, but mostly papers, in stacks, in folders, in paper clips. There was a desk in the middle and surprisingly nice wooden chairs, covered with fine carvings. I was sitting in one with my plate of pie, looking around at the room. It was small, but well enough lit. I wondered how long this was going to take.

She came back through the same space she'd left, shouting to unseen persons to 'Be careful with that mixture, it might be strong enough to eat through Hex's wires! Test it before you try and move the cauldron. Carefully!'

Retaking her seat across the desk from me she smiled an intelligent, friendly smile. 'So you're Plaid. Igor mentioned we had a few new ones....Hermes, he said the other guy was.'

I nodded. 'Brad says we've only got one day to get ready.'

She nodded, opening a drawer and taking out a small booklet of folded papers. 'There are, no doubt, things he doesn't want you to know. That's why I will use the unlabelled map.'

Spread out on the desk was an arrangement of disconnected cartography. She wasted no time.

'This,' she pointed to the volcano near the center of the island, 'is the Great Garner. There are cliffs all along this the west side of the island. In the past Captain Mal has anchored beneath them. No one's been able to scale the cliffs, they're usually too slippery.'

'Where are we on this map?' I asked.

'Beneath these hills in the southwestern lee of the Garner. The whole building was buried in the last eruption, roughly thirty or so years before--'

'Orrdos told me they don't keep track of the years. How do y--'

'Well, no one else does care about the years. I am a scientist, and very interested in the history and composition of this island. I take measurements and records of almost everything. Thirty years ago,' she continued, 'we estimate the Garner erupted and covered more than a third of the island. That isn't so important, but Mal may mention the volcano and you'll need to know what he's talking about.
'Now, up here, on the north coast, is the Bay.'

I followed her finger as it circled an indent at the top of the map.

Pat went on. I tried not to look bored. 'The shore is pebbley and there aren't many trees, but Malory has used it before as a base. From there they have quick access to the sea and their ship, Catface, as well as--'

'Catface?'

'Yes, Catface. If you get the chance, ask Mal about it, its a great story. But,' she looked serious, almost threatening, 'Do not, on any circumstances, mention his ear. Don't even look at it.'

I did not dare ask why.

[b:0a05e11b81]is Plaid ever going to get on with the spying already?[/b:0a05e11b81]

I looked down at the map, rather confused and wondering how I'd got into this predicament. 'Is that there...' I pointed and peered at the page. 'Is this a lake?'

'It is. But the karst is out of bounds for both sides, because I haven't had a chance to explore it or determine if its safe yet. And besides...well, I doubt Brad wants to confuse you with that. Forget about the lake. You'll most likely get to meet... well, just forget the lake, okay? Concentrate on the task at hand. You'll need to be very careful.'

Pat went on a bit more about Mal using the Bay as a base of opperations, telling me about the landscape on the north side and where brad was going to take me to accidentally run into the crew.

'What if they don't find me? I can't really go looking for them, can I?'

'They'll find you. Brad's going to ask Sam and some others to take you to The Words for good luck. They'll make sure you get picked up by Catface, don't worry.'

'The...Words...?' I looked questioning.

'I'll let the others explain that to you. We've got more to cover here.'

She pointed out the stretch of woods along the shore and where it was thickest, the reef a few miles to the east, and told me to be prepared to stay on board the ship for at least a week or so. Telling me to try and commit most of the map to memory and at the same time forget half of its components, she disappeared again into some mysterious back room. I licked the sugary rhubarb goo off my spork and twiddled my fingers, waiting.

When she returned Pat was carrying a cardboard box with wires and string sticking out of it. She set it down on the desk and motioned for me to look inside. It was a gerbil, crawling around among the mess of wood shavings, old cloth, and random bits of other stuff.

'Her name's Blue. You'll have to keep her quiet and remember to feed her, but this is the only way we can keep in contact with you.'

I looked skeptical. 'Wh--How?'

'Hold on a minute. Hex!' she hollered back, 'Bring the contraption out here, quick!' Turning back to me and picking up the gerbil gently, she sighed. 'Brad's going to want you ready for anything. I'll give you blue and her contraption---Hex! hurry it up!---and also a few weapons. By all means keep them from being found. Mal will recognize them, and there's nothing I can do about it once he knows Brad sent you.'

A metal plated....girl, I guess...walked stiffly in through the space between the bookcases. She was carrying something small. 'Bring it here Hex, please. Thank you. Take this box back to Igor now. Good Hex.'

I watched in mild amazement as the metal-girl retreated into the back room with the box the gerbil had been in. How weird...

Pat coughed and redirected my attention to the contraption in her hands. She somehow inserted the gerbil into it and set it down on the desk. It whirred.

Pat and I stared at the thing for a while. It continued to whir and shift uneasily around on the desk. She poked at it, tweaking bits of metal here and there, muttering to herself. 'It worked just this morning, Igor tested it five times...'

'What's it supp--'

'Ah ha!' The contraption had unfolded a pair of small wings and was endeavoring to take off. It couldn't get up enough speed and just rolled off the desk into a bookcase. Pat cursed. 'Alright! I know Brad won't like this but we don't have to tell him. Come with me.'

I was confused but I couldn't see what else I could do but follow. Pat grabbed the winged gerbil thing and went through the space between the bookcases in the corner. I squeezed around the desk, trying not to knock things over or make a mess of her stacks of paper, and followed her.

It was a room much more similar to the others I'd been in down here, all white brick. There were cabinets all around the walls, and tables pushed together down the center of the room.

'Try not to get too curious, Plaid. Brad would kill me if he thought you knew about---' she trailed off and looked suspiciously at me.

I tried my hardest to remain dutifully uninquisitive. There were racks of smoking, bubbling liquids, stands displaying motionless, stuffed wildlife, and scattered papers everywhere. The metal-girl Hex was messing with something sticky-sounding and red further down the row of tables.

Pat shouted for Igor. He came out of a closet at the end of the room, carrying glass containers of all shapes and sizes. After setting them carefully down on the counter, he introduced himself.

'We are Igorth,' he said, extending his hand. 'We're from Nebrathka.'

From the look on Pat's face I gathered that she didn't know where Nebraska was either. Or why he talked about himself in the plural. I shook his hand and smiled a confused but friendly smile.

'They call me Plaid, nice to meet you...Igor.'

Pat directed our attention back to the still-whirring contraption in her hands. 'Igor, go get the runway set up. Plaid needs to know how this thing's supposed to work. You won't have me there to do it for you. Pay attention.'

Once he'd cleared off a long stretch of table and set up a small wedge-shaped jump at the end of it, Pat set the metal thing down and poked it.

'See the blue button, between those shiny knobs, there? You have to push it hard.' She poked it again and gave the ball of metal a nudge. 'There it goes. All you need is a flat stretch and a little bit of height to get her going...'

We watched the thing make its way, gathering speed, down the table. When it hit the jump its wings flapped violently and it flew straight up and hit the frame of the door.

'Don't worry,' Pat said. 'It's a durable contraption. Blue's not hurt, is she Igor? It'll be fine. Do you think you've got it Plaid?'

'I guess so...'

'Good. Here, you try it once and then we'll be through. Oh, and let me find you the gerbil food, one minute...'

Igor handed me the thing. I looked at it wonderingly, but decided against asking how they'd done it. She probably wouldn't tell me.

Taking it to the end of the table I positioned it facing the runway and then pushed the blue button as hard as I could. It worked just the same as before, smacking into the doorframe with a clang that echoed.

Pat came up with a small jar and told me to be carefull and not break it if at all possible. 'If you run out,' she advised, 'just pray to Ba. I'm sure gerbils like pie as much as anyone else.'

With that she left the laboratory and I followed her, picking up Blue and her flying machine on my way out. Pat gathered up the map we'd left on the table and sat down. I could hear muffled shouting outside the door. Brad's voice, I was pretty sure.

'Is that it then?'

Pat smiled and nodded. 'Yes. Just, could you nick a few pencils off Mal for me while you're there? Oh, and just tie your messages to Blue's tail. You'll only be able to send it once, so wait until you've got something good, alright? otherwise Brad'll be disappointed, to say the least. You'd better get out there before he gets too impatient.'

I picked up my bundle of clothes. I had to put it and the gerbil-thing down again before I could open the door. Brad's voice got a bit louder.

'--not going to tell you again, Rincewind! You know the rules just like everyone else. They're just too messy and besides that they upset Fred. You've got thirty seconds to get that thing out of here before I decide to tell Orrdos about this!'

A figure in a red bath robe was running frantically down the corridor. It looked like he had a tail.

'Oh,' he said. 'You're finished.' Brad grinned a silly llama grin and begain explaining that Hermes had decided to blah blah blah blah...

I tuned out and thought about what I was getting into. Catface, what a weird name for a ship...and what about his ear? what was so terrible about it? I really did want to see what happened to Nester, I wonder where Orrdos is...I should ask him about it. I was going to have to put on these icky clothes again. What if the whole thing falls apart and I'm found out? Brad would be angry first of all, not to mention this Malory guy. But he can't be as bad as all that, can he? Hermes has met him, after all, and he didn't say anythi---

'Are you listening, Plaid?'

I cleard my throat and said yes very unconvincingly.

[b:b98c89ffa4] chapter y[/b:b98c89ffa4]

I knew Brad didn't believe that for a second, but he went on. I listened somewhat distractedly.

'Walk faster. Samantha and a few of the others are going to take you to the Words, for good luck. After that you'll have the rest of tonight to get ready. I'll get you and Hermes up before sunrise tomorrow.'

He paused and I considered asking him about the Yak Pit or where Orrdos might be. Before I could he went on. 'Are you sure you can do this, Plaid?'

'I thought,' I said, 'that at this point I would have no choice?'

He didn't say anything to that but kept walking. We made our way up the stairs to the room full of incense and approached a small group of people sitting under the muraled wall.

'You haven't met Sam yet, have you?' Brad asked me. I shook my head.

Sam stood up and said, 'Hi, I'm Samantha Vimes. Just call me Sam.'

After shaking my hand and telling me I could leave my things sitting over there on a shelf, she turned back to the group and waited until she had their attention. 'I'd like a vote really quickly, now that plaid's here. Brad, are you coming with us?'

'No, I've got too much to organize. I'll leave now.' He went back downstairs and Sam continued talking.

'I know we usually take the path along the river, but I've recently found another way. It's a bit more rugged, but it's safe. And we won't have to go near the river or the zombie spring at all. It's up to all of you though. Hands up for the old way---'

She paused and no one raised so much as one finger.

'Right then. Let's get going. We'll go out the back way, come on.'

I fell in with the dozen or so people who followed Sam down the staircase and along the dark corridors. We went further into the underground building than I'd been before. Occasionally we passed others coming out of or going into rooms along the way.

After a while the floor, which until now had always sloped generally downward, suddenly sloped the other way. One of the others noticed my stumbling and told me to 'Watch out for the crack there' just a bit too late.

Sam shouted from the front of the group, 'Single file, just like always, be careful.'

At this point we had to climb around a pile of broken, melted bricks and through a small opening in the outer wall of the building. Most of us got rather muddy in the process, since the recent rains had created mudslicks all down the rocky hills outside.

Out in the open it was colder, but the fresh air was lovely. We hiked down the gentle but slightly damp slopes of the hills at a relaxed pace. From up here I could see out over the tops of the trees to the beach, and beyond that the blue water stretching away almost as wide as the sky. I wondered where I must have come from, and why I had ended up here of all places. Wasn't there any way I could find out who I had been?

'You're Plaid, right?' a girl near me asked, coming up to walk next to me.

'That's what they call me, yeah.'

'Hey, it's more interesting than my name. Keli. I mean, that's just a...just a name. Plaid is interesting.'

I shrugged my indiference. She let a few moments go by and then resumed polite conversation by asking me if this was the first time I'd been to the words.

'Yeah,' I said. 'What are they, anyway?'

'The Words,' she said, as if this was self-explanatory.

At my still-clueless look she attempted further, 'Well, its kind of ...hard to explain. They're all these ...stones...with the Words on them, carved into the rock, you know? People say they're the words of prophets or something. I don't know about that. Ba doesn't have any prophets, I don't think.'

'Are they really good luck then, or what?' I asked.

'People think so. I just like to read them. You find out so many interesting things. Sam says they contribute to a...a sort of precognative ability. In her dreams.'

'Really?'

'Yeah, and Sam's really good too. She can predict what kind of pie's gonna come. And when the river flooded last year, she knew about it. Brad didn't listen to her that time...Marcia was livid. And the rest of them too, except for Mossfoot, of course, he stays underwater most of the time, because of his--'

'Keli, what are you talking to Plaid about?' Samantha had turned around. We stopped walking. 'You know Brad explained that Plaid wastn't to be told too much. He thinks its dangerous to her mission.'

'But I was just ta--'

'I know, Keli, but we have to be careful. You know what Brad's like about the Sock Wars. Just humor him. You'll have plenty of time to chat with Plaid afterwards.'

With that Sam took me by the arm and we walked quickly ahead of everyone else. Some of them whispered to each other. I was annoyed, and I'm sure it showed in the looks I was giving the scenery.

Sam started talking to me, but I was distracted by the cold shadow we'd just walked into. I hadn't seen the Garner before, which was strange, because it was humongous, black and towering, with a thin wisp of smoke trailing out of its crater.

'--don't exactly approve of the wars myself, becuase they tend to get out of hand, and people get hurt, but they're important to Brad. Why did you decide to do this for him?'

'Huh?' I pulled my gaze away from the majesty of the volcano and looked at her. 'I...I, uh, I'm not sure, really. I just....did.'

'Well, I hope you get something out of it. You'll find the pirates exciting. Malory...Malory's something else. And his crew...his crew...well, just watch out for Moon Cat Blue,' she said with a wink.

I smiled weakly, suddenly very tired. We'd reached a stretch of rugged hill which led up to steeper crags and mounds of black volcanic rock.

'Why do they call it Garner?' I asked. My curiosity hadn't abandoned me yet.

'That's its name.'

Something in her tone told me I wasn't going to get anything more than that, and I swallowed the 'why' even as I was dying to ask it.

There wasn't much to see for the rest of the hike besides lots and lots of jagged igneous landscape, dotted sparsely with charred tree trunks and struggling plantlife. We walked in silence for most of the way, with Sam calling out directions from the head of the group.

The shadow of the volcano was cold and grey. I was glad when we stepped out of it and the ground sprouted moss and then a thicker carpet of green grass and weeds. We began walking a bit faster, downhill.

Samantha stopped at the crest of one hill, and as I looked over the rest of the island I could see the Bay Pat had told me about. It was round, sparkling, and bright turquoise. Just outside of it, to the left, was a ship. I stared at it, for the first time feeling a chill of what was almost fear.

'Everyone gather around,' Sam began, 'I know most of you have been to the Words before, but I'm going to go over it again for the sake of any newcomers. Its best to spread out inside the caves, but keep someone with you so you don't get lost. Keep your voices down, don't disturb the others around you, and please, please, make sure you've got enough candles. I don't want anyone shouting when their light runs out. Alright. Are we ready?'

After everyone murmured in response Sam led us over the top of the hill and down to the entrance of a cave. We stopped there and lit candles. Everyone had pocketsful, except for me. The group broke up and went in a few at a time. Sam and I were the last ones left.

'I'll show you around, Plaid. It can be a bit frightening the first time. It's very dark, but you get used to that after a while. Come on.'

The candle glowed orange in the cool blackness of the caves. We walked along for a while, our footsteps echoing, the daylight from outside shrinking away behind us. I kept close to Sam.

[b:763d5b26f7] the Words of...who, exactly?[/b:763d5b26f7]

The cave was small and narrow, but after a while it opened out. I couldn't see how big it was, but it sounded immense. Even the softest whispers of the others rustled around trying to fill up the space with their echoes.

'Careful, stay close to the wall. It drops off a few feet to that side.'

I looked into the dark space and saw tiny globes of candlelight hovering like fireflies. It was beautiful.

'Sam?'

'Shhh. Keep up.'

My eyes adjusted slowly. I could see the dark brownish rock walls on our left, and faint hints of the cave walls further away. Samantha paused and told me to hold the candle. She climbed over a large shelf in the rock, took the candle from me, set it down, and gave me a hand up.

'Try and focus your mind,' she said. 'I find its best to read the words when you're concentrating. You get more out of them that way.'

She began inspecting the walls at this point, taking the candle and holding it close. I wanted to follow her and try reading over her shoulder, but I kept my distance. I thought for a while about the ship, and how I was getting hungry again, and poor nester and how curious I was about what the yak pit would do to him... until she looked at me and whispered, 'Come on. Look.'

I quieted my thoughts and tried, half heartedly, to focus as I walked over her. She held the candle under the carved words, and I read them. They were very faint, and eroded in places.

[i:763d5b26f7]people, who want total control, more or less, of[/i:763d5b26f7]

I looked at Sam. She didn't say anything. She gave me the candle and told me to look around some more. Control of what? I thought.

I kept reading.

[i:763d5b26f7]packrat minds. Some of it dates, Everything[/i:763d5b26f7]

That reminded me of pie. I was hungry. I tried to forget that I was hungry and focus. I stared at the wall, which looked all yellowy-rust in the candlelight. Llama breath. Malory's ear. Striped Hermes, how ridiculous... The ship in the bay, black against the turquoise sparkle.
[i:763d5b26f7]
Yes, they will. They all will. They are mortal, after all.[/i:763d5b26f7]

'Ouch!' I shouted. The candle was dripping wax onto my hand. I dropped it and it spluttered in the dust.

'Shhhhhh!' Sam hissed. The echoes of my outburst rang away into the dark. I winced and rubbed the wax off my hand, grumbling under my breath. Samantha picked up the candle and re-lit it. 'Let's go,' she said.

We climbed back down the ledge and walked back the way we had come. Sam whistled a short trill as we left the caves.

'I'm sorry,' I managed to say, blinking in the bright light outside.

She didn't say anything as she snuffed out the candle and put it back in her bag.

The other's shuffled out of the cave shortly, and everyone was quiet as we walked back up the hills and over the sloping blackness of the Garner. I looked back for a while at the ship in the water, getting hungrier. I wondered if the pirates ate pie, or if they believed in a different god. Or any god.

When we got back to the room of incense I found my things where I'd left them. I fed Blue a little bit of her food and sat down, feeling hungry. I stared at the mural for a while. There were little elephants of various colors painted all over the stone. Weird.

I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall. Then I remembered I was going to try and find Orrdos and ask him about the Yak Pit. There was no one around for me to ask, so I decided to go down and see if I could find my way back to his room on my own. I left my coat and clothes but took Blue with me, carrying her carefully in her metal-globe-with-wings. I got through the wrecked dining hall and looked down a corridor. All the doors looked the same.

Emma had knocked on one on...this side, I was pretty sure. I looked at a few of the doors as I walked uncertainly down the hall. I could always just knock on one and ask whoever answered it... they'd know which room was his, wouldn't they?

I spent a few moments vacillating before I knocked on a door. I heard someone moving inside, so I waited, trying not to be too nervous.

A guy with a very ridiculous hat on opened the door. 'Hi,' he said. 'What do you want?'

I sucked in the giggles that were trying to make themselves audible, and said carefully, 'I was just wondering, which room is Orrdos's? I wanted to ask him--'

'He's taken Fred out. You can wait in here if you want, his room is next to ours. Nester, clear off the chair over there, we've got a visitor.'

I didn't have a chance to say 'no thanks, I'll just go--' before the mention of Nester's name drew my curiosity and then my feet over the threshold and into the room.

'Heya Plaid,' Nester said to me. 'I hear you've turned spy. Excited?'

I smiled and shrugged in an I guess so sort of way and sat down on the chair he'd just emptied of junk. I put Blue down on the floor where she chittered softly in her metal cage.

'This is Colonesque, by the way.' Colonesque grinned and tipped his hat.

'Nice to meet you.' I looked around the room curiously. There were drawings of Fred on the walls and on the cieling. I couldn't see the floor; it was covered with papers and crumbs and wadded up socks. In one corner was a wardrobe. It was taped shut with about seventeen layers of sellotape. I wondered why, but didn't dare ask about it.

Nester rolled over on his bed and sighed.

'Is it tomorrow you go to the yak pit?' I asked.

He looked at me and nodded. 'Everyone's voted though, so Doors may as well throw me in now. Get it overwith.'

'You could go jump in yourself, Nester,' said Colonesque.

Nester glared at him, and I looked astonished at the suggestion. Colonesque just sat there, unwadding socks and piling them up.

'How many so far, eh?' Nester said after a while.

'Thirty-eight...I think. Fred might have eaten some.'

'I don't believe that. Fred eats pie like the rest of us.'

'Well, it must have been the monkeys then.'

Nester coughed and glared some more at Colonesque, who shut his mouth and tried to look innocent. At that point I couldn't help it and had to start laughing at him. Both of them looked at me like I was crazy.

The afternoon pie startled me and I choked. It smelled really really good. I took out my spork and twiddled it in a small carmelly puddle.

'Yes! Carmel-fudge, my favourite! Thank you Ba! Oh, it's even got sprinkles in! mmmmmm.' Nester jumped up and dug into his pie like he would taste anything so good in his life.

While we were happily indulging in the lovely smoothness of Ba's carmel-fudge pie, there was a quick knock at the door and a dark haired man poked his head in.

'Ahr nixtdd' Nester said with his mouth full.

'Doors is not happy. I'd clear out if I were you.'

Nester swallowed his mouthful of pie. 'I can't leave. I'm grounded until my punishment tomorrow.'

'Well, Colonesque and...' he turned to me and paused.

'Plaid, jinxted, jinxted, plaid,' Nester said quickly, before cramming more pie into his mouth.

'And Plaid ought to pretty well run for their lives then, I'd say. I tell you, Doors is not happy. And if you're grounded, he probably won't like seeing that you've got company in the shape of--'

'Wait, what happened? Why is Doors upset?' Colonesque asked.

'I just wanted to ask him--' I began.

'Its a long story. He's on his way down here with Fred, you'd better stay out of his way. You're welcome in my room if you want.'

I looked at Nester, and then at Colonesque, who was licking fudge off his plate. They seemed fairly unconcerned. I wondered what this jinxted fellow was going on about. Nobody moved, and jinxted continued looking urgent until there was a loud crash from the room next door. Here he stopped looking urgent and completely froze, his face a picture of pitiful terror.

'Can't be worse than when I let Fred wreck the dining room, can it?'

The three of us considered this. Well, at least I considered it. Colonesque had abandoned his plate and his stack of unwadded socks, and was huddling under his covers. Jinxted had shifted from frozen terror to insane panic. He tore the door open and ran quickly. I listened to his retreating footsteps and decided I would take advantage of the open door and leave the doormen to themselves.

'I'll just come back later, maybe,' I said, and walked out. My hand was on the doorknob and I was about to pull it closed after me when I saw I'd forgotten my pie. My spork was still stuck to the plate too. As I went back to get it there were a few more loud crashes from Door's room. Nester finished his pie and resolutely went over to a door behind Colonesque's bed that I hadn't seen before. He opened it slowly, leaned against the doorframe, and whispered into the next room.

'Pst, Doors? What's all the ruckus? Is Fred misbehaving?'

Colonesque pulled the covers over his head and whimpered. I scraped the last chunks of fudge up and sucked the carmel off my spork. No one payed any attention at all to me as I slipped into the hallway and closed the door behind me. I walked, still sucking on my spork, back upstairs.

'Drat,' I said to nobody. 'I left the gerbil.'

I chewed on the end of my spork for a bit, pacing aimlessly. Oh what the heck... I walked purposefully back the way I'd come and knocked on the door of the room I was almost absolutely sure was the right room...It had to be..it was right here, in the same place, I'd just barely walked out of it, right?

When Nester answered he was laughing joyously. His eyes sparkled and he had fudge on his face.

'I left my gerbil...I'll just get it, if I could--' I stepped into the room around him and reached down for Blue's contraption. I had to de-tangle it from a sock and a knotted clump of yellow string, but Blue was still chittering gently inside. 'Thanks,' I said before I left. 'Sorry to bother you...'

'No problem plaid,' Nester laughed. 'Hey, what were you looking for Doors for? He's calmed down slightly...only slightly...but if you're feeling brave you can talk to him, he's in his room. He wouldn't get angry at you, you're a girl.'

'Are you sure? It wasn't anything important... I just wondered if ...well, nevermind. You're going to the Yak Pit tomorrow, right?'

He laughed again, looking behind him at Colonesque, who pouted, glowering from his bed.

'What?' I asked. 'What's going on?'

'The Yak Pit--' he laughed some more, truly overjoyed, 'The Yak Pit is--has been raided. All the Yaks are gone! That's what Doors is upset about!' He continued laughing.

I thought for a moment. 'So, you're free, then? Or what?'

'Free of the Yak Pit, until all the Yaks are found.' He laughed some more and pushed the door shut. I had nothing better to do, so I let myself fall into a chair and held Blue on my lap.

'So, how did they get out, anyway?

'They couldn't have got out on their own. Somebody must have stolen them. Brad's gonna suspect the pirates, but it could've been anyone. Anyone who--'

'Wanted to buy you some time?'

'Hey, it wasn't me. I've been stuck inside for the past day. Right, Colonesque?'

Colonesque nodded.

'Hm. Will you have to stay inside until they find the Yaks?'

'Doors thinks so. But Brad will want me to help with the Sock Wars. They need me. They wouldn't have won last time if it weren't for me.' Nester grinned proudly.

I raised an eyebrow. 'Really?'

[b:da744f25a9]you all want the spying to start, don't you? I'm getting there.[/b:da744f25a9]

I expected to be given a fully embellished account of Nesters daring victories in the last Sock Wars, but he just coughed modestly and sat down on his bed.

'I suppose,' he said, with a definite Changing The Subject kind of tone, 'you've been warned about Maljonic's ear?'

'A few times, yeah. What's wrong with it?'

'You're better off not knowing. I have heard,' he lowered his voice, 'that he's taken to wearing a hat that covers it. If that's the case you won't have to worry. He hates people looking at it.'

'But why?'

'Probably reminds him of the--'

The door between this room and the next opened suddenly and Orrdos strode in. 'Nester,' he said sternly, 'go find Brad, right now.'

Nester jumped, shouting a 'yes, sir' as he hurried out the door.

'Colonesque, go take Fred for a walk.' As Colonesque obeyed, Orrdos noticed me sitting quietly, curiously, with Blue on my lap. 'Plaid, you can go with him if you like.'

'Um...actually, I've got to-- For my-- I should get some sleep, I think. Brad said he would wake me up before dawn.'

'Oh. Good plan. Has Brad sorted a room for you yet?'

I shook my head.

'Hmm...well, my room's a mess, but...or you could take Rincewind's bed. He's going to be out helping the others round up the Yaks this evening.' He went over to the bed against the far wall and flipped through the covers. 'Looks clean enough.' He sniffed the corner of the blanket and grimaced. 'Then again, maybe you'd be happier on the floor. How about waiting for Brad, and then we'll see if we can't get you your own room?'

I said that was fine with me.

'Alright then. Come on then, we'll wait in my room. It may be a mess, but I dare say it smells better.'

He was right.

I leaned against the window sill and fiddled with Blue's cage-thing.

'Do you think you're ready for tonight?' Orrdos asked by way of filling the quiet.

'I hope so. I really don't know what to expect.'

He nodded thoughtfully. 'Just trust in Ba. And keep your eyes open.'

The sound of hooves in the corridor grew gradually louder. Nester knocked as he pushed the door open and preceeded Brad into the room.

'What is it Doors?'

'First of all, Plaid needs a place to sleep.'

Brad looked at me and thought. 'There aren't any empty rooms in this hall, are there? Hmm...There are probably a few on the next floor. Can I get Nester to go check for me?'

Doors nodded and shooed Nester off. Brad turned to me, 'I'm sorry all the best rooms with windows are taken.'

'Right,' Orrdos went on, 'Next up, do you know anything about this business with the Yaks?'

Brad looked surprised. 'What about the Yaks?'

Orrdos narrowed his gaze and said suspiciously, 'I went up there to check on things, for Nester's punishment tomorrow. The Yak Pit's empty.'

'Oh, that. I heard. I bet it was the pirates. Plaid'll find out for us, won't you?'

I tried to look enthusiastically willing, but I'm pretty sure I failed. In all reality I was simply tired and bored and confused. I didn't really care about any Yaks.

'I don't think so, Brad. The pirates haven't been ashore lately, have they? Not in the last few days. I think it has something to do with Nester. Someone wanted to spare him. It won't work.'

'Well, you know the Sock Wars are taking up all my time at the moment, but I can get Samantha to look into it if you like.'

'I'll ask her later. Can you go see Pat? She might be able to find out something, and help us round up the Yaks. They've got to be still on the island. Maljonic wouldn't allow three dozen full-grown Yaks anywhere near the Catface.'

'What about my room?' I probably shouldn't have been so self-centered, shouldn't have said it, and from the looks I got Orrdos and Brad thought so too.

'Nester will be back soon. Just wait.'

'Alright,' I said, settling into an assumed air of patience and unconcern. The two of them left.

The room was quiet and full of shadows. After a minute or so I decided to take Blue out of confinement and set her down on the window sill, where she looked at me and rubbed her paws together.

I stroked her soft fur and looked out the window. There was nothing much to be seen, just a lot of ivy and mud, with a watery blue sky behind them. I sighed. Blue the gerbil squeaked.

'Do you know who you are?' I asked her. 'Or did you forget everything too, and now all you have is this silly contraption and the name Blue?'

Some time passed before Nester's simultaneous knock/open startled me and he walked into the room. 'There are plenty of rooms on the next floor plaid. It's darker down there, but if you need to sleep, perfect, right? I can take you now, if you like.'

'I left my clothes upstairs. Can we go get them first?'

He nodded and held open the door. 'Come on.'

Once I'd collected my things Nester led the way down the stairs, down some more stairs, and into a hallway similar to all the others.

'You can take your pick, really. I don't think any of these rooms are taken. Not all of them have decent beds though, and there are no windows. Nicer rooms, in general, and a lot less damage, but most people prefer the light from the windows upstairs.'

I looked around. I opened a few random doors. Nester assured me there were clean sheets and quilts in most of the closets. I picked a room and claimed it as mine, draping my clothes over the back of a chair and setting blue on the floor.

'I'll tell Brad where you are. Go on and get some sleep.' He proceeded to leave, but I remembered something, and I had to ask --

'Nester, Orrdos talks to Fred, doesn't he?'

He nodded and leaned on the doorframe. 'Fred talks to him as well, you know.'

'Mm. But I --other people can't hear him, can they? Or can you, because you're...Doormen? Why does he call you doormen, anyway?'

Nester smiled. 'Doors is just Orrdos's nickname. Rincewind and Colonesque and I, we're his friends, so they call us Doormen. Fred doesn't talk to anyone but Doors. It's--well, its something you may or may not find out more about. Get to sleep now. You've got so much to do later. Brad's depending on you.'

'Wait--' I held the door open. 'Why--Orrdos was--'

He waited. Everything I was trying to explain was all mushed together with everything I didn't have a clue about. I tried again, the look on Nester's face coaxing it all out.

'Fred, yesterday when I was with Emma and Orrdos, I--he was saying something to him. About me.'

'About you?' He was skeptical. I was skeptical too.

'Well, they were looking at me. I don't know why.'

I must've read this about 4 or 5 times now and I still haven't tired of it. My only worry at the moment is that there's still a lot of the already written stuff to be posted before we get the new stuff!

Post promptlier* Plaid!


*taking word-liberties for alliteration here

[b:6e824f2216]sooner or later I'm goign to run out of interesting things to put in bold.[/b:6e824f2216]

'Like I said, don't worry about it, Plaid. Fred, he's... He's Fred. You've got more pressing concerns.'

I still looked uncertain.

'Look, I'll ask Doors about it if you want. But I can't promise answers. There are a lot of things he refuses to talk about.'

I nodded and let him close the door. In the cold darkness of my new room I sat, thinking. Blue scratched and scurried inside her metal ball. I laid back and pulled a few layers of blankets over me. Sleep came sooner than I'd thought it would.

---------------------------------

I woke up with a headache. I'm surprised Brad hadn't kicked the door in, he was making such noise.

'Get up, Plaid! Hermes and I've been waiting for you!'

I wanted to stay in bed and concentrate on the lovely chocolate echo of the pie from the afternoon before. But I crawled out of bed and opened the door, grumbling sleepily. Brad stopped shouting and told me to get dressed and meet outside as quickly as I could. Still grumbling I closed the door and undressed. My plaid clothes were almost dry. I got sand all over the floor as I put them on again.

Rubbing my eyes and trying to wake up thoroughly, I carried Blue and my coat up to the main room and out to where Brad and Hermes were sitting patiently in the moonlight.

'Okay, now what?'

The two of them stood up and started walking. I followed, the cold morning chasing my sleepiness away and replacing it with a miserable shivering.

'We have a way to walk. The bay is up on the north side of the island. I want you to be close enough to the ship that they find you, but not so close that they get suspicious. We're going to keep to the woods for now. Keep up.'

The woods were quiet, and they still smelled funny. Our trek through them was non-eventful, unless you call Hermes tripping over tree roots and ivy and rocks all along the way, and Brad excersizing great restraint and not yelling at him, eventful. My feet were just beginning to complain about having to walk all this way in sandy, unconfortable boots when we emerged from the trees onto a stretch of pebbley beach. It was too dark to see the ocean, but I could hear it whispering somewhere out there.

'Is this it, then?' I asked.

'No. I'll take you both a bit further. The ship will probably be anchored further down, that way,' Brad gestured with his llama ears. 'Come on.'

The wind on the shore was rough in a meandering, loose sort of way. As we made our way up the coast the stars began to fade and the sillhouette of Garner and the slopes of the hills around ....him?... began to make themselves distinct from the dark sky.

Before long Brad was giving us a long speil of instructions and wishing us good luck.

'Put that thing inside your coat Plaid. Please try and remember what you're trying to do. Send us word once you know anything important. Take care of Hermes...he's doing a brave thing giving up his memory. Be careful.'

Hermes waited until the llama had gone back the way we had come and disappeared into the trees before he walked out to the edge of the sea. I stayed back, watching his painted shape drink the water.

I shivered as he keeled over with a splash. I ran over to him and dragged him out of the waves. He was limp and quite wet. He'd been right about the paint though, it was waterproof.

I sat down in the sand next to the unconscious figure and tried to swallow the growing feeling of panic and face the task ahead with a lot more self-control than I felt I possessed at the moment. It was so cold.

Hermes didn't wake up for what seemed like hours. The sun came up on his stiff, striped, snoring form while I sat there, shivering, shifting pebbles and shells around out of boredom.

After a while I resorted to pacing restlessly. I walked up to the treeline and looked down at the incoming tide. I picked a few leaves off a bush and mercilessly shredded them. I went through the pockets of my coat again and flung a few pennies one by one into the water. I tried nicking the rust off the nail clippers. This didn't work. I looked at Hermes and wondered if he'd wake up if I went through his pockets.

I sat down again and made piles of the different sorts of shells. Black ones over here, stripey small ones over here, smooth curvy ones over there, flat spotty ones there and broken pieces there. I picked at some seaweed. What disgustingly slimy green stuff seaweed is.

I'd rolled up my trousers and buried my feet and ankles in the sand when Hermes shifted, rolled over, and mumbled something. He looked at his hands as he got up.

'Wha...weird...' he said slowly.

I stood up and took a deep breath. 'Are you alright?' I asked.

He looked at me with wide, empty eyes. It was almost terrifying, knowing he had no idea who he was, remembering the same feeling I'd had just days before.

'Who...?'

All I could do was shake my head. I really hated having to lie to him, but he'd made that choice. He would have to live with it now.

We both sat back down and stared out at the ocean. I didn't say anything, just watched the sea, waiting, humming distractedly.

'You don't know who you are?'

I shook my head.

'You don't know how we got here?'

Again.

'You don't know anything?'

I thought for a minute. 'I saw a ship, earlier. Over there,' I pointed.

'Is that where we came from?'

I shrugged. He looked around, so helpless. I put my hand on his shoulder. 'Do you want to go look for it? Maybe it just went further up.' I stood up and walked a few steps. An uncertain moment went by and then he got up and followed me.

We wandered along the shore in the long morning shadows of the trees.

'You really don't know where we are?'

'No. How many times are you going to ask?'

'Are you sure you can't remember who you are?'

'I'm sure. If you want I could give you a name. I could call you Stripey. or Mr Inquisitive. Or just Funny Hat Boy, if you like.'

'You really don't know how I got here, then?'

'I don't know how I got here, my friend. I haven't a clue.'

'But, where could we have come from? Is there anyone else that lives here? Are we the only two people on the whole island?'

I stopped walking, growing impatient and frustrated. 'Who even knows if its an island at all, huh? Maybe we're dead, and this is paradise.'

'Hey, maybe...' Hermes grasped this idea eagerly. 'But where's God then? I thought heaven had to include a God?' I rolled my eyes.

'Or it might be hell,' I mumbled.

'What if we die here? What if we...what if we starve to death?'

I ignored the shiver those words sent down my spine and held my hand up to shade my eyes from the sun. I thought I saw...yes...

'There's someone over there,' I said.

'Where?'

'Look. By that...It looks like a river over there, and there's a little...boat. Hm. That's not the ship I saw before. Come on,' I grabbed his arm and dragged him after me. 'Let's go see who it is.'

[b:5bd9c2d1c9]pirates at last[/b:5bd9c2d1c9]

They saw us coming and met us half way. Pirates. Real Pirates. Leather and earrings and big black boots, and long curved swords. There were three of them. I decided to have the first word. I had been the one to approach them, after all.

'Hey!' I shouted when they were within a few yards. 'Hey, can you help us? We don't know...'

Hermes began whimpering. And I must admit the pirates looked menacing. Dark and powerful-looking. The one with a navy kerchief on his head and three gold rings in his ears came forward and grimaced at me. His moustache was greasy, tangled, thick, and black.

'Who are you?' he growled. The other two had drawn daggers out of sleeves and boots, and were hemming Hermes and I in.

At this point Hermes' whimpering erupted into a choked plea, 'We don't know who we are! We don't know!'

The glinting daggers disappeared.

'Bring 'em down,' the moustached one said, walking quickly back to the mouth of the river. The other two took hold of us and marched us after him. I wished Hermes would shut his mouth and try and act respectably, instead of blubbering so much like a child.

They were rough with us. Oddly enough, this didn't frighten me. Pirates are meant to be rough, after all. They wouldn't be proper pirates otherwise. Hermes was tossed in the small skiff, and I was set down on top of him.

'Stay put,' one of the pirates shouted. I resisted the impulse to take Blue out and check on her, and instead hefted myself off of Hermes. The pirates were conversing a few feet away, looking suspiciously at us.

'You okay?'

He only nodded and continued looking like a frightened puppy. Out of sympathy I took his hand.

'Captain's sailed 'round eas'side, and he won't be back this mornin'. We could do what we please with 'em,' I heard one of them say. He was tall, thin, and draped in a dirty orange rag of a shirt, with chains around his neck and an eerie yellow-toothed grin.

He saw me staring and scowled, so I looked away, and pretended fascination with the supplies in the boat as I continued to listen.

'Nah, 'e sed we was to keep any castaways fer 'im to lookit later on. Ye knows the sock wars gets to 'im like that. 'e'll be...'e'll be in a right state ifn yer don't obey partick'lar 'structions jus' like 'e sez.'

'Orright, orright. What're we gonna do wi' 'em 'til Captain gets back, then?'

'Tie 'em up, eh? eh?' This was a new voice. It sounded much too eager to tie us up.

'Shattup Jordan. We's jus' gonna let 'em sit. Athar, you go on an' finish scoutin' the river. Ifn ye kin git a bottle er two a the, ye know, tha' the Captain likes, yeah? Good on yer.'

I heard one of them walk off through the trees. The other two came back to the skiff and looked us up and down.

'Yer sure we ain't allowed ter tie 'em up, eh Black?'

'Jordan, I ain't gonna tell yer again ter shattup. I want ye ter sit 'ere an' .... an... think up names fer 'em both. I's gonna...I'll be back for pie.'

With that, the pirate with the moustache stomped off.

I looked at the one he'd left behind to name us. He had a lot of messy brown curls sticking out from under a big hat. His face was smooth, he looked young. If I'd wanted to escape, it would've been a simple matter of shoving him into a tree and tying his earrings to his bootlaces.

'I want ter tie ye up.' The scrawny pirate glared, stubbornly frustrated that he'd been forbidden to do so. His eyes were a dull greenish yellow, framed by dark brows.

I looked at him with my best ignorant look, waiting. Hermes was beginning to calm down a bit, and his grip on my fingers relaxed.

'Who...who are you?' he surprised me by opening his mouth and directing the question at our disgruntled captor, such as he was.

The pirate looked at us both suspiciously, and I blinked a few times in curious innocence.

'Jordan. Chris Jordan,' he stood up and straightened his hat proudly, 'crew of Maljonic's Catface.'

[b:7f635bb9ac]catface?[/b:7f635bb9ac]

I let a little worry creep into my expression. My lips trembled as I slowly asked, 'And... you... what are you going to do with ...us?'

'Give ye names, like Tony the Black said ter.'

He paced uncertainly near the boat. I picked at the end of my sleeve and waited. Chris Jordan murmured to himself. I didn't bother listening. Hermes let go of my hand and peeled some of the cracked paint off his fingers.

'Stop that! Don't--' I grabbed his hands and glared at him sternly. 'Leave it alone,' I hissed.

He nodded, frightened. Chris looked at us strangely. I whispered a bit more nonsense to Hermes with a mock-anxious tone and then looked nervously back at the pirate. He squinted at us both for a few minutes.

'How wud yer both like real good proper pirate names, eh? You,' he pointed at me, 'you look like a... ah...errr...'

'Fred.' Hermes said it out of nowhere. I looked at him in shock. Please, I don't need his memory to come back just now...it'll ruin everything...

His response to my sudden stare was a look of bewilderment. 'What?'

'Fred? What a dumb name.'

I just looked at Chris as he said this, hoping very much that none of my knowledge of Fred the elephant could be seen in my face. The pirate continued.

'Nah...'nless yer want ter be called Fred, ye wit' the strange hat. Do yer?'

Hermes' hand went to his headware self-consciously. He persisted in looking bewildered.

'Nah, yer gonna be called...' he paused and seemed to draw his next words out of the air, 'Peg-leg Harry.'

I looked at Hermes. Nope, he hadn't sprouted a peg leg. 'He hasn't got a peg leg!' I told Chris.

''e ain't? Arr, well...' Chris Jordan's gaze wandered. He groped for a comeback. 'So?'

'What're you gonna name me, then? One-eyed Petunia? Maria the Headless?'

He started laughing. 'Maria! Hahahah hahaha! Ha ha ha ha!'

Tony Black returned to find Chris Jordan sprawled against a tree laughing his head off.

'Hahaha! Ha, Maria!' he blubbered. Tony stared at him.

'Maria? Ye ain't goin' ter name 'er 'Maria,' arr ye? Does she look like a bloody fish ter you?'

'Maria the Tailless!' Chris announced this as if it were the most brilliant idea he'd ever had. Maybe it was.

Tony grunted and threw the sack he'd been carrying into the boat. 'Whatever, Jordan. Maria 'tis, if ye like. Come on, let's shove off.'

Chris killed his laughter began to help Tony get the skiff down into the river.

'What arbout Atharr?'

'We're goin' ter git 'im, come on.'

It had gotten a bit warmer, but the breeze over the water was still crisp. The two pirates didn't speak as they rowed upriver. It was a winding, solemn river. After listening a few moments in the quiet of the woods, I almost thought I could hear it moaning. I looked over the edge of the boat warily. The water looked normal...well, as normal as I imagined water should look... were those red-orangey things fish?

They didn't look quite like fish...but what else...? Salamanders?

Hermes--Peg-leg Harry, now I suppose--was being surprisingly quiet. I looked up from the river and turned to him. He looked at me with the same helplessness in his eyes. That look probably wasn't going to go away soon. My gaze fell into my lap. I could feel Blue scritching and squirming inside my coat. The two pirates were silently rowing. I was hungry.

The river widened out eventually. The loud cascade of a waterfall grew to fill the clearing. We rowed into the lake and the pirates dragged the skiff mostly out of the water.

I couldn't help staring at the waterfall. It was multicolored, and looked...alive. Hermes stared at it too. Was it...it couldn't really...

'It's screaming.'

I looked at Hermes. There was a pale terror in his face as he gaped. I looked back at the waterfall, shaking my head. It can't be screaming. It just can't. But I could hear it. Underneath the pounding of masses of water on water, it was undeniable.

'Arr! Get yerselfs outer thar 'n come fer pie!' Tony was hauling us both by our collars out of the boat.

'Hey!' I tried to wriggle out of his grasp and in doing so ended up on my face in the mud. I heard a duet of laughter.

Hermes helped me up, once the pirate had set him down. 'Thanks,' I said.

The three pirates ate their pie with their fingers. Hermes and I were forced to do the same. I couldn't give away where I'd got my spork, and Hermes had forgotten all about table manners.

'Where did it come from?' Hermes wondered. The pie had appeared in the air, just like it always did, on plates. Today it had sprinkles. Coloured ones...pink and blue and yellow and green.

I only shrugged at him. The pirates were mostly ignoring us. Chris Jordan would occasionally give us a glance, but other than that, they were busy smearing their faces with pie.

As Hermes and I licked our fingers, we looked around some more. My eyes were drawn to the waterfall, but it's unearthly screaming was frightening. I tried to concentrate on the boat. It was made of whitewashed wood, and the word 'Chimaera' was stencilled sloppily on the side. The guy they had called Athar had set a half a dozen bottles of river water in the back with the other sacks of who knew what. I listened to everything the pirates were saying, but they were talking with their mouths full of pie, and I couldn't understand one word.

Tony Black was obliged to consent to Chris tying us up before the three of them could take the liberty of falling asleep. Chris Jordan was good with rope. I couldn't move at all. Hermes whimpered, looking at me.

'Oh, stop it He-harry,' I said. 'They gave us food. They haven't really hurt us. Its better than starving.'

He still wasn't happy. I wasn't either, but whining wouldn't help, would it?

'M--Maria? The waterfall...'

'Shhh. I don't know why it's screaming. I don't know why it looks so...ugly. Just ...just stop...' I fell silent and tried to shift my position against the tree I was tied to.

'But--'

I glared at Hermes. He was really starting to bug me.

'But I--'

I screamed. Not too loudly, but with so much aggrivation and frustrated energy that it echoed slightly. The pirates woke up grumbling.

'Whut in Ba's name arr ye hollerrin' fer?!' Athar shouted, getting up and bringing his grimy face within centimeters of mine.

I closed my mouth and jerked my head away from him. 'Aaowch,' I moaned when it hit the tree. I expected Athar to slap me or something. He just scowled and breathed a sticky, horrible breath into my face.

I tried forcing some tears, to maybe get a bit of sympathy. I hung my head and moaned about being tired and frightened and not knowing where or who I was.

'Shattup,' he said, turning away. I muttered quietly for a few more moments and then continued staring at my feet in their mud-covered boots.

Athar was still walking around. I risked a glance at him through a few dirty strands of my dark hair. He had taken off his shoes and was climbing Hermes' tree.

'What are you doing?' Hermes asked, his voice slightly panicky. 'What..? Hey! Argh grhgrgh...'

Athar's foot pressed down on Hermes' shoulder, then his head. I couldn't help but smirk at the sight of those big filthy pirate feet in poor Hermes' face.

'Yerr ain't peekin' 't them merrmaidens agin, arr ye?' Tony reclined against a tree and stretched lazily. 'May yerrr spyglass shatter yerr scalliwag...' and with that he closed his eyes and went back to sleep. Chris was lying a few feet away. He rolled over and continued to snore gently. This was turning out to be the most boring morning I'd ever had.

'Ahoy!' Athar shouted, to who I couldn't tell. I tried to crane my neck and get a look at what he might be doing up there in that tree. It didn't work.

Hermes and I looked at each other, wondering.

'Did he say...?' he began.

I looked at Tony and had to admit to myself that he had said mermaidens... I nodded. 'I think,' I said, 'he did.'

'Mermaidens. Is that...Are th...what are they?'

We looked suspiciously at the waterfall. I didn't see any mermaidens. I squinted. No...unless...unless mermaidens were...translucent and mouldy looking...with too many arms and legs....ew...

'Can you see those, Hermes?'

'Hermes?'

'Harry, I mean Harry! Harry, can you see those...things...' I jerked my head toward the waterfall. 'The...They're hard to see. I think they're the things...that are screaming. Look harder.'

'I can't see anything. Are you sure...'

'Look! They're...all squirmy and... I--There's dozens of them. They're hideous,' I whispered. The things in the waterfall were absolutely rotten. As I looked at their cascading bodies I swear I was able to smell them. I wrinkled up my nose and wrenched my eyes away from the sight. Hermes was lookign at me like I was delusional. I hoped I wasn't.

[b:196868b3d3]yeah, its a freaky waterfall. no, I'm not gonna tell you why.[/b:196868b3d3]

Athar either fell or jumped out of the tree, landing two very small inches away from Chris Jordan. The thud didn't even wake up the skinny snoring figure.

After scrambling upright and inspecting his spyglass to make sure it was whole and undamaged, Athar brushed himself off and walked over to the boat. It wobbled as he stepped into it. Where the lake water lapped against its sides there were smears of orange-green goo.

I watched the pirate carefully, not wanting to anger him and risk the chance of his breath anywhere close to my face again. He was rummaging around in a ruck sack. He took out a pair of socks and sniffed them once before stuffing them and a few more pairs into his boots.

Then he dragged Chris up off the ground and shouted until the kid woke up. 'We're leavin'. Catface 's on 'er way. Get Black.'

Athar began to untie Hermes, and then me. He marched us to the skiff and tossed us in. Hermes landing on top of me this time. I stuck my hand in my coat and tried to make sure Blue was still there and still undamaged.

Tony was cursing at Chris as they both joined Athar in the Chimaera and began steering the boat back down river. Again, nobody talked. Hermes amused himself by taking off his hat and putting it back on again at various angles. At least he wasn't pestering anyone with questions.

The tide sucked the little boat out into the sea and the three pirates had to strain to keep it on course. Within a moment or two the ship came into view. It creaked and swayed as we approached. Its sails were old, its portholes covered with grime, its crew shouting from crow's nests, scampering up and down the rigging, looking at us and pointing over the edge of the deck.

Once on board, Chris was allowed to tie us up again. I wish he hadn't tied us both to the same mast, or at least not so close together. Hermes smelled like laquered paint and seawead. I smelled a fair bit like seaweed myself, but it was the paint that gave me a headache.

Pirates of various sizes and colors gaped at us. I had my hair pulled and my nose tweaked and my jaw squeezed. Thankfully, none of the grubby people breathed on me.

'Maria? My shoulder hurts.'

'Hm, does it? Maybe,' I said, staring around at the throng of busy pirates on deck, 'you might ask one of these kind sailors to loosen this rope?'

I laughed to myself as he tried this. 'Hey, hey you! Hey, you there with the eyepatch, can you... Hey! Hey, could someone...'

'Shut up Her--Harry. Just shut up.'

I wondered, as Hermes persisted to squirm and moan next to me, what was goign to happen to us. If they left us tied up here all day I'd never find out anything about the Sock Wars.

A knife sang swiftly and thudded at an angle into the wood behind my head. I looked along its glinting edge and saw the hand from which it'd been thrown. It was a large hand, belonging to a pirate with blue tatoos all over herself. Her hair was in two rough plaits, golden and thick. One ear was pierced with a series of small metallic rings. She had tanned, even skin and her eyes were deep and hard, but almost warm. Not angry. Why had she chucked a knife at me then?

'Carrot, Sybil, untie them.'

These two scurried from her side and began working at Jordan's knots. Meanwhile, the knife-throwing blonde came to retrieve her weapon. She leaned towards me and smiled. My eyes were wide, wondering, not quite scared. She whispered, so close to inaudibly, 'Fred knows.'

The ropes fell away from me. Hermes drew himself close behind me and looked at the woman as she pulled her knife from the mast and stepped back.

'Welcome to the Catface.' She took my hand and shook it firmly, 'Moon Cat Blue. I believe Jordan named you Maria?' I nodded. 'Captain wants to see you and,' she paused, 'Peg-leg Harry?' I nodded again. 'Separately. Carrot, take him.'

Hermes was led away by the ginger haired pirate. The one she'd called Sybil wandered off. Moon Cat Blue gestured with her knife and I followed her across the deck. She led me to an ornate set of doors. Standing in front of them, facing me, she stuck her knife into her boot and looked into my eyes. I looked away, nervous.

'Look 't me, girl.'

I looked. She leaned closer. 'Fred ain't the only one 't knows. Captain don't know everything, but trus' me, it ain't worth it lyin' to 'im.'

She knocked, paused, and threw open the door, motioning for me to enter the room. I took a deep breath and did so.

He had a hat on, saving me from being tempted to think too much about the hinted horrors of his ear.

'Sit down, Plaid.'

I sat down. I looked around the room, which was lovely, if small. Malory leaned across the desk and raised an eyebrow. Then I realized, He knew my name...how did he...? who told him my... ? I tried to breath calmly. Brad just made up the name, remember? From your clothes. Don't panic...

I blinked slowly and looked at him as innocently as possible. He straightened and leaned back, but kept staring at me, his smile fading away into an impatient frown.

'Plaid,' he said again. 'What has Brad told you?'

I couldn't give in. I couldn't. 'Brad?' I asked.

'The llama. Brad, the wonder llama. I know he sent you!'

He was pounding the desk now. I pressed myself as hard as I could into the back of my chair and persisted in my ignorance.

'L-l-llama?'

The captain glared at me from under the brim of his hat. 'Look,' he said. 'I know you know that I know that Brad, the miserable two-timing sock-thief, sent you here, to spy on me and my crew. Admit it.'

I screwed up my face into what was probably a slightly artificial-looking expression of confusion.

He scowled, becoming angrier. I was truly bewildered enough about how he could have known. Remaining silent, I watched him stand up and pace the small room, muttering to himself. Listening hard, I could make out a few words. 'couldn't have,' 'wrong one,' 'but how,' 'monkey freak,' 'what an idiot!'

He looked at me again and then stormed to the door. 'Moon Cat!'

She arrived with a bright, inquisitive willingness in the doorway. Captain Malory shouted for her to take me away. Moon Cat Blue did this without asking where.

We ended up below deck, where she sat me down in a corner and, raising an eyebrow at me, ordered me to stay put. I leaned aganst the wall and sighed. Making sure no one was around, I took out Blue and her contraption and held it, thinking, turning it around in my hands absent-mindedly.

Samantha had said to watch out for Moon Cat Blue. She knew about Fred...I wonder how? The question was, could I trust her? I shook my head at Blue. I wished I had some paper and a pencil, to write down what had happened so far. Where has Hermes got to? I stood up and shoved the gerbil back into my coat. A moment's vacillation later I was striding down the corridor, musing distractedly about why Chris had decided Maria the tailless was such a brilliantly funny name.

[b:826c224638]what sort of adventures will plaid run into? don't ask me, I'm just making this up...[/b:826c224638]

The innards of the ship were fairly empty. I wandered through rooms and hallways without meeting anyone for what seemed like a very long time. For no particular reason I listened at a few doors. Nothing. Silence, exept for the oceanic background noise.

I was hopelessly lost after a while. I wandered above deck once, briefly, but the busy pirates up there made me nervous, so I stayed below after that. It was so quiet I almost felt compelled to start talking to myself again, out loud, just to fill the dark emptiness.

'Will they bring Hermes down here as well, or...'

There was almost an echo. I listened to it and hummed to myself. This was much too boring. I took Blue out again and fed her. She crawled onto my hand and squeaked. Watching her, I thought for a moment. 'It's funny. The llama can talk, and Fred too. Why can't you?'

She looked at me and rubbed her ears with her paws. I put her away again and kept walking.

A couple of pirates, both tall, both bulky, came out of a room before I could hide. They glared, approaching in the menacing way pirates do.

'Who're you?' the larger of the two, male, suspicious, was wearing a navy cap and silver jewlery.

'I--I--' I looked from one to the other of them, very nervous, very uncertain. 'I don't know,' I said, catching upon the truth at last. 'They just brought me here. C-Chris Jordan and Black and...another guy...'

They looked at me, squinting their eyes, glowering, breathing angrily. The fractionally smaller one pulled a small dagger out of her sleeve and they both giggled as I watched its point dance carelessly, much too close to my nose.

'Looks cross-eyed, don't she?' They laughed. I frowned and looked up. The knife danced a bit more wildly. I swallowed and started to really hope that I wouldn't end up mangled and bleeding at the end of this encounter.

'Skeered, Ms-I-don't-know-who-I-is?'

I'm sure they could see the fear in my eyes. I was backed up against the wall and trembling just a little. The grimy male grabbed me forcefully and I grimaced as his fingers dug bruises into my arm..

'Now, Fugitive, le's not git too violent, orright? Mebe Captain wan's 'er fer summfink, eh?'

After looking at his companion Fugitive let go. 'The Sock Wars...?' he speculated.

The other pirate nodded, her dredlocks swinging gently. They both looked back at me. 'Tha's right!' the guy exclaimed. 'Rincew--'

'SHHH!' The girl looked pointedly at him and jabbed her dagger at the air in emphasis. She then gripped a fistful of my coat and inspected the plaid lining. Both of them nodded meaningfully at each other again.

'Malory talk to you?' she asked me. I nodded, my eyes darting between his face and hers, nervous, curious, wondering if I'd get any answers out of these two.

'Brad send you?'

The question printed itself on my face. I couldn't speak, but I made it clear enough that 'brad' might as well have been foreign. Her dagger tickled my ear.

'Brad sent you.' She nodded knowingly to herself. Behind her Fugitive's face grew serious and dark. I tried not to think about the cold edge of that knife tracing soft patterns so close to my skin. Searching frantically for my voice, my eyes still flitting fearfully, I tried to stay still while at the same time edge away from the pirate with the knife.

'I--I--'

'I can smell the llama on you, so quit lyin' 'bout it. Brad sent you. We's been tipped off.' She grinned and to my infinite relief took her dagger away.

'Whaddaya think she's doin' down here all 'lone, 'stead a tied up on deck, eh Fugitive?'

'Dunno Sian. Aye do not know.' His hand reached over and jerked me by the hair. They both accompanied me above deck, where I was tied up again and laughed at. It was almost all I could do to fight back the tears.

The sun was leisurely proceeding towards the watery horizon when the afternoon pie showed up. My hands were bound and I could only stare at it and its banana-cream gloriousness. Passing pirates smirked and pointed at my vain attempts to get at the pie with my tongue. I gave up after a while and just groaned impatiently, cursing the sunset's sharp orange glare.

'Maria,' Captain Malory's approaching voice said distinctly, 'is not your real name. Chris Jordan is a fool. Untie her,' he ordered someone.

I went straight for the pie and finished the whole piece in three bites.

'Careful, Plaid. Although,' he paused and looked at the sky, 'Plaid may not be your real name either. But it is those clothes that gave you away.'

The pirate who'd untied me had drawn his sword. Malory had a pistol in his hand, but held it as if it weren't there. I tried to ignore it, and instead concentrated on licking the banana pudding off my fingers.

Malory came closer and gripped my chin in his hand. 'Now, miss, I want you to be straight with me. I could get my informant to identify you fairly easily, but I'd rather not have to distract him from the much more important things he is concerned with at present. Sian tells me you reek of llama, and that as well as your clothing can only mean one thing.'

Several more pirates were circled around us now, some of them with swords drawn, many of them reveling in this confrontation.

'Your friend--Peg-leg Harry, Jordan called him--has been recognized as well. Honestly, I didn't think Brad would be this stupid. Sending two of you to spy for him, on me, the greatest pirate to ever sail these waters, respecting the honourable Catface, may he rest in peace. I expected, though I don't know quite why, something more original from the Wonder Llama.'

He let go of my face and I tried to stand up straight, but it was pointless to defy him. Okay, he knew. I didn't know how he knew, but he did.

'What now?' I asked, somehow keeping all the hoplessness and anxiety from creeping out with the words. 'Where's Hermes?'

Maljonic smiled. 'Don't worry your head about him. Trollmother, come here.'

It was an older woman who approached, her head bent, her fingers wrinkled, her voice faint and tired as she greeted the Captian.

Placing his hand on her shoulder kindly, Maljonic introduced us. 'This is Trollmother, Plaid. Or would you prefer the name Maria?'

There was laughter from almost everyone at that. I only stood there, looking at Trollmother. She took my hands in hers and squinted up into my face.

'Trollmother,' Malory went on, 'would you be so kind as to take our guest below deck? Find her a bed to sleep on and make sure she gets a set of clean clothes.'

I was confused. I followed Trollmother around in a daze, my mind whirling through questions...who had told him about me? what was I going to do now? what had they done with Hermes? was I stuck on this ship forever now, or what?

Trollmother drew a bath for me and handed me a towel. They've got plumbing...amazing... maybe I don't mind so much, leaving behind Brad the insane wonder llama...

'Clean clothes are in the wardrobe, dear. Leave your things here and I'll take them to be washed. Need anything and I'll be right in the next room.'

I fell asleep in the tub. I woke up to wrinkled skin and bubbles in my nose. What had I been dreaming about? Shadows and seaweed and socks... a llama wearing socks. Weird.

Grabbing my towel and standing up, I stepped out of the bath and wriggled my toes in the fuzzy mat. What luxury, after having worn sand-filled boots all day. I yanked the stopper out of the tub and dried myself as I watched the water drain away.

In the wardrobe there were skirts, tunics, scarves, hats, leather trousers and boots of various sizes. I pulled out everything and looked at it before finally pulling on a pair of comfortable leggings and a loose red linen top. Then I poked my head into the next room and asked Trollmother for a hairbrush and some socks, please.

'Socks? Not this time of year, sweetheart. All the socks are in Jonathan's secret vault. There are slippers, if you like.'

I accepted the warm blue slippers gratefully and combed out my hair carefully with the comb I found in a cupboard. On a whim I tied it all back with a polka-dotted scarf, knowing they'd still call me Plaid no matter what I wore. I was stuck with the silly name now.

I slept that night in a hammock strung across the corner of Trollmother's room. The waves against the ship's hull beat the darkness into sleepy shapes. My dreams concerned lots of sharp things. They were uncomfortable dreams. I woke up more than once and stared at the ceiling. Nevertheless, Trollmother had to gently prod me awake when morning came.

'Come awake, dear. The Captain wants to see you.'

She brought me to the same office I'd sat in yesterday. Maljonic smiled at me from across the desk.

'Good morning. Let me get to the point here. I want to know what you know.'

I settled back into the large chair. 'I don't know much. I don't even know what these 'sock wars' are about.'

Maljonic sat back and looked thoughtful. 'Perhaps,' he said, 'you might tell me what you have been told, and I might... fill in the blanks, so to speak.'

I considered this. Were we on the same side now? I still wasn't sure who I could trust.

'Can I ask a few questions first? I want to know...I need to know more about...things.'

Maljonic nodded and I tried to quickly decide what to ask him first.

'Where am I?' The question was only a small step away from 'where did I come from?' I watched the Captain's face eagerly, waiting to be answered. 'I know this is the Catface, but the island.... Where is it?'

'The island...' Maljonic stood up and stroked his chin. 'The island... well, it doesn't have an official name. We call the volcano Garner, because that is its name. The island of Ba Witda, it...it is just an island.'

It worried me that he seemed so uncertain. Maybe he didn't know who he really was either. I shifted in my chair as a chill planted itself at the base of my neck.

'And...are you going to let me go back? Or...'

His eyes darkened slightly as he resumed his seat and laid his forearms upon the desk. 'That will depend on how useful you prove to be. And on the outcome of the Sock Wars. Neither Brad nor I usually take prisoners, but,' his tone brightened and a smile appeared briefly, 'he hasn't been so presumptious as to send spies to me before, either. We find ourselves in new and exciting territory. Now, tell me what you've seen of the island so far. Who have you met? Have they taken you to read the Words?'

'Yes.' I looked at my hands, remembering, rubbing a finger across the slight burn I'd got when I'd dropped the candle. 'I didn't understand them.'

'Not many do, but there is something about the caves of Words. Something inspiring. Let me show you.'

Reaching up to a shelf, he pulled down a booklet and leaned across the desk as he opened it and showed me the page.

will simple make piracy that ...... and better

It was penciled in a clear cursive hand. I read it and looked up, wondering.

'Those were the first Words I read in the caves. I know the sentence is smudged and the remaining fragment doesn't truly make sense, but I found my calling in these Words.'

'That's why you're a pirate?' I suddenly remembered another question. 'Why do you call the ship Catface?'

'Catface was the previous Captain of this ship. He... he ...has been dead. For many,' Maljonic's reminiscing gaze went right through me, 'many many years now.'

A melancholy silence descended and suffocated all my further questions about the ship and its past. I could only wait for Malory to regain his sense of purpose, which he did shortly, urging me to tell him more about the island.

'I found Brad and Hermes in the forest. They took me into their... well, this place, with rooms...' The Captain was listening attentively. As uncertain as I was, I had to keep talking. 'I met a few others.... buzzfloyd, emma... sam, and nester...Nester was in trouble for letting Fred wreck the dining room...'

It all came together rather clumsily. I told Malory about Orrdos and Fred and Pat and then I remembered.

'Blue! ...I left her in my coat...'

'Who?' Throughout my relation Maljonic had been nodding as if he knew the people I'd been talking about. Apparently this gerbil was a new one to him.

'I need to go find her and make sure she's alright. Excuse me...' I stood up and hurried out of the room, walking quickly over the deck and trying to remember just which way Trollmother had led me earlier.

After several wrong turns I found it, but there were no signs of my clothes or of Blue or her contraption. I was starting to worry. If anything happened to her... well, Pat would be upset, wouldn't she?

I stormed back the way I had come, muttering to myself about being so careless.

'Captain? Where have they taken my clothes?' I demanded.

'Sit down,' he said, his face hard and his voice cold.

I stood where I was. 'Captian, I need to find Blue. If she's gotten lost I will--'

'Sit down!'

My concerns were all blown away by the power of that order. I sat down quietly.

'Now, tell me, Plaid, what is this Blue?'

'A gerbil. It was part of a...machine thing...I can show you, if you get my clothes back to me...if nothing's happened to her and she hasn't escaped. She was in my coat pocket. Trollmother said she'd have them washed....'

Maljonic nodded. He went to the door and yelled for the nearest pirate.

'Carrot, find Plaid's clothes. Trollmother will have taken them with the washing. Quick, man.'

He closed the door and returned to his chair. I relaxed and told myself Blue would be fine. They would find her and bring her back. I looked at Maljonic and waited.

'If we might return to our discussion? I believe you expressed a...a curiosity of sorts, about the Sock Wars? What have you been told?'

'Emma explained them, a little. She said it was a tradition. But I don't know what its all about. Brad just told me to keep my ears open and send them anything I overheard.'

The Captain nodded thoughtfully. 'Is that all?'

I dug deeper through my scant memories. 'I think... Pat did say something about how you'd tried ... um...'

'Oh nevermind. I will show you what the Sock Wars are about. Hopefully then everything will make sense.'

[b:8fb665cb90]Photographs. Where did Maljonic get them developed, hm?[/b:8fb665cb90]

He gently slid a black and white photograph from between the pages of the diary and handed it across the desk for me to look at.

'Who is he?'

'Brad. A long time ago.'

'But he's a llama...'

'He is now. The Sock Wars all started because he wanted me to change him back. I told him if he could win three times in a row, then I would.'

I gaped at the photograph.

'Bu--How--' I gaped at Maljonic. 'How did you turn him into a llama?'

'This is the first sock,' he held out another photograph.

Okay. It's a sock. I looked up at him, curious, and he continued, ignoring my earlier question, 'It wasn't mine, and it wasn't Brad's. Mossfoot is holding it in this picture. I don't suppose Brad introduced you to Mossfoot?'

I shook my head and peered at the photograph, but all I could make out aside from the dirty sock were a few blurred fingers and a background of shadows.

'In any case he usually keeps out of sight. Since the...um, Since I... Well, he doesn't like to see people.'

'Why?'

And then there was pie. It was some sort of vegetable pie. It always has to come in the middle of everything... I took my plate out of the air, my question still hanging strung out above Malory's desk. He took out a silver spork and told me he'd prefer to eat in peace, if I'd be so good as to close the door behind me.

In the face of his impatience I could do nothing but stand up and carry my pie out of the room. Outside pirates were milling around with their pie, some with sporks, some without. I'd left mine in my other clothes. I didn't like getting grease all over my hands, but I had to eat the stuff somehow. Leaning up against the railing I chewed and thought and suddenly realized the island was dwindling in the distance. My face fell and I wondered where we were going. We couldn't be leaving... not for good... not without fighting the sock wars?

I finished my pie and continued to watch the island in all its green and black and sand-coloured picturesqueness. It floated further and further away in the sunstruck ocean.

'Pretty, innit?' Chris Jordan had materialized at my elbow, tucking a brown curl behind one ear and squinting into the sun.

I nodded with a sidelong glance at his grubbiness.

'So, yer name's...Plaid, they tol' me...not...' he mumbled the last bit, 'Maria.'

I couldn't help smiling, he looked so repentant and self-conscious. 'Well,' I said, suddenly feeling friendly, 'I really don't know my real name. They call me Plaid. You can call me Maria if you like. I don't care.'

He laughed. 'Maria's a...well, its a fish-name. Only a mermaiden would be called Maria. And you en't one a them.'

Questions about mermaidens crowded my brain, but I couldn't find a way to put them into words. I stared at the water in confusion. Chris Jordan leaned on the railing next to me.

'Did it...' I began. There was a pause in which I wrestled with all the stupid reasons I had for asking this question. 'Were you... Did you forget, too? Do you know where you came from? or who you are?'

I looked at me strangely. 'Aye's always bin a pirate. I remember Trollmovverr feedin' me mashed pie and lettin' me help the ovvers polish the silver.'

'So you grew up on the Catface?'

'Yup.'

I sighed. 'What about... the other pirates? Where did they come from?'

'The island. Well, Captain Mal didn't, he came on ther ship, wit' Catface. That was way back. Before.'

'Before what?'

'Just before. Geez ye ask a lot ar questions.'

With the slightest of appologetic looks I turned away and ran into Carrot.

'Argh, what--' I muttered angrily.

He rubbed his shoulder and stepped back with a polite nod of his head before he spoke. 'Captain tol' me ter find yer clothes? Trollmother wouldn' le' me 'ave 'em, but she 'ad these bits...'

It was the dillapidated old book, the key chains and nail clippers, and Blue. And my spork! I clutched the spork, and began to fiddle with Blue's machine. She crawled out and scurried up my arm. I giggled as I collected the rest of my belongings from Carrot.

'Do you have her food...it was in a jar... a small jar like... ah, there it is. Thank you,' I looked at him gratefully and, with a dutiful nod, he went back to whatever he was supposed to be doing.

After feeding Blue a little of her food and holding her furriness up to my face, I noticed Jordan. He looked incredulously disgusted.

'What?' I asked, my eyes narrowed in self-defense.

'What is that thing? It looks like a rat.'

'She's not a rat, she's a gerbil. Go away if you c--'

'She? She?'

'Yeah, she. What's your problem?'

'Nuffin'.' The pirate kid backed away. I glared at him as he left. weird...

I didn't want to put Blue back in her cage thing, but I also didn't want to have to keep hold of her all afternoon. She squeaked and squirmed, but I put her away and turned my attention to the book. Maybe Malory would know something about it. Or maybe he...

Moon Cat Blue had said he didn't know everything. And that Fred did know... everything? Nobody knew everything, did they?

Well, what was there to know? Maybe...

No, it was too horrible to think about not even having a past. It had to be there somewhere.

But where?

'Plaid,' a shadow fell over me. I turned to find a tall, bulky pirate...Fugitive, I recognized him.

'What?' I asked carefully.

'Aye's sorry fer ruffin' ye up wif Sian yesteday, like we done.'

This surprised me. My eyebrows couldn't decide to raise inquisitively or furrow in bewilderment. I just looked at Fugitive. He swallowed.

'Tempus Fugitive, 's me,' and he held out a large dirty hand. As I hesitantly shook it he went on, 'They calls you Plaid, innit? So yez one of us now?'

I said nothing and sighed, shaking my head as I asked myself the same question.

'Whassat?' He was looking at Blue's round contraption as it rocked gently on the deck next to my feet.

'A gerbil. Her name's Blue.' I set my book down and picked her up, squinting through a space between the metal works of her cage. 'Do you know where we're going?'

'Not fer certain...but prob'ly ter-- 'allo Captian.'

Malory had come out of his office and clearly wanted me to accompany him back to it. I gathered my collection of belongings and cursed the fact that I had no pockets, tailing the Captain across the deck.

He closed the doors to his office as I sat down and placed Blue carefully on the desk. The chair was nice and comfortable. Malory looked at me and coughed softly.

'This is...Blue, the gerbil?' He gestured towards the metal contraption.

'Yes. I took the gerbil out and Maljonic had to force down a look similar to the one Chris Jordan had given little Blue.

'What?' I held her close, in my hands, and she sqeaked softly.

'Put it away, before it gets loose, please. What is that cage thing? What does it do?'

'She's a she.' I set the gerbil back inside and looked back at the Captain. 'It's a....well, I was supposed to use it to send back messages...but, well.... um. Pat showed me how it works, but... well, I don't know. And now that... well... er.'

'I see. Where were we? I was showing you my photographs. Here.'

The Garner was sillhouetted against a grey-scale sky. I recognized two or three of the pirates standing on the shore of the lake below a waterfall. It didn't look like the same waterfall.

'We won the first War. There have been many since then, and Brad has never been able to stack up three victories against us. He's come close, but not close enough.'

'Um, how... I'm still not really,' I put the photograph down on his desk, 'sure... exactly what...er, well, how these Sock Wars actually...work. How do you win?'

'Keep hold of your socks. It's harder than it sounds.'

'How?'

There was a pause while Maljonic put the photographs away and returned to his chair. 'It does seem very like a mere game to you, I'm sure. Socks are nothing more than socks, of course. You will see how important it is to us. Things have only begun to--'

In response to the loud knock that came on the door the Captain sighed and shouted for whoever it was to come in. Moon Cat Blue stood in the doorway, her face a picture of urgency.

'Captain, there's a ship. Starboard, heading south. Prepare to attack?'

Attack? And then I remembered...these were pirates, after all.

'By all means,' Maljonic said with a smile. He stood up and took his spyglass out with him. 'Let me have a look at them.'

I waited. Outside, Moon Cat Blue and the Captain speculated on the origin, purpose, and direction of the ship. I only half listened to their talk of distinguishing architectual details, the shapes of sails and flags, and colouring. The room remained empty, and their voices remained outside. Blue chittered.

The drawers of Malory's desk slid smoothly and silently. Brad sent me here to spy and I could at least find out something, couldn't I? I nicked a few pencils, as Pat had requested, keeping them hidden in my sleeves. I was able to shuffle through the drawer full of papers and the drawer full of utensiles before I felt guilty enough to return to my chair. That second drawer...I wondered what the sharp and intricate instruments in there were for.

Captiain Malory didn't come back to the room. I stood up and innocently inspected his shelves. Mostly there were maps, journals, oh my...

My hand went to the spine of the leather bound book. The Holy Book of Om, tooled into the cover, cleanly, with the same gold leaf and everything. I turned the book over in my hands, smoothing my fingers across the soft cover, tracing the title in amazement.

The water-damaged copy I presumed was mine lay on the table beneath the key chain and nail clippers I didn't really have a reason for keeping. The book, though...This book...

I flipped through the pages of Malory's copy. He and Moon Cat came in and found me trying to divide one stare between the two books. They payed me no attention as they pulled maps from the shelf and sank deeper into a discussion about tactics and weapons. I moved Blue and my other things out of their way and sat back down in the chair. While they talked and ignored me I decided to take a proper look at this Holy Book. I turned back the title pages carefully.

The half a dozen pages I got through presented a very boring story about some people and some prophets and a wildernes. I got thoroughly sick of reading and looked up persistently, willing Malory to look at me and answer my questions, but he and Moon Cat Blue were absorbed in battle plans, their fingers tracing chaotic lines all over the maps in front of them.

'They're sailing South. We'll intercept them....about....here. The winds are...Oh, pie.'

Both of them set their plates to the side and continued. I took mine, and Blue and my things, outside and sat down against the railing of the ship. My head ached. I closed my eyes and gripped my spork. This was so incredibly stupid. I am stuck on this ship with a whole lot of strangers, eating pie from who knows where, and its so hot out here. And my head hurts. This pie tastes awful.

I looked at the pie mournfully. I wondered what was in it, wondering why Ba couldn't send anything more... more... different. Always pie. I swallowed, clutching my spork tighter, breathing angrily, deep seething frustration. Thankfully I fell asleep before I'd cried too much. The pirates left me alone and I didn't wake up until they all started shouting.

I was hungry and my eyes were sticky and heavy with sleep and crying. The sun was setting, I could tell as I squinted, still in a rather unhappy mood, still lying curled against the ship's railing with my spork digging its nice plastic edges into my hand.

All the shouting that was going on sounded quite unintelligible. I wanted to go back to the calmness of dreamland but someone stomped over to me and started tugging on my arm.

'Yer wan' ter git below deck missy, thar's gonnar be figh'in' an yer en't,' he dragged me awake, 'got,' and I stood up, scowling, 'no weapons.'

I was tempted by pure animosity at this point to stick my spork up his nose. Luckily for him I was tired enough to give way to his demands with a complascent sort of apathy. He pushed me down the stairs and I stumbled through a few corridors until I regained a sense of direction.

Trollmother was knitting in her room. I fed Blue and placed her carefully on the floor in her cage. Then I laid down in my hammock and stared at the ceiling. The steady click of knitting needles wound out my aggravation slightly. Before long it faded behind the sounds of screaming and battle-cries from above deck. This and the humming of the ocean mingled into a dream of washed out darkness where a star became a puddle became a sock, and I put on the sock, and found myself standing in the sky, which was a puddle, which went all wooden and stiff and hit me in the face. I woke up with a groan.

'Oh, careful dear, careful.' Trollmother was at my side stroking my shoulder, lifting me from the floor. I shook the dreams away from my aching head and realized I'd fallen out of the hammock.

'Are you alright?' she asked me, helping me to stand. Her eyes said You don't look alright, not at all. Tell Trollmother all about it.

I sighed and paced the room, watched by her patient kindness.

'What's going on? Where--' I looked at her as I voiced my question and she didn't say anything. 'What are they fighting about? How did the Captain turn Brad into a llama? How?'

My insistence brought a smile from the old woman, but she clearly couldn't give me anwswers.

'I don't know who I am.'

She patted the seat next to her and I took it, pouting, confused, hopeless.

'Listen. Who you are is nothing more than what you do.'

I choked on this. 'How do I know what to do?'

'You don't. That's the bit you just have to make up as you go.'

This wasn't comforting.

Trollmother left the room hurriedly when a girl-pirate knocked and came in with fear and desperation all over her face. I wasn't tired anymore, so I followed her.

I shouldn't have.

The shadow of the ship they were attacking was fading into the twilight. If it had been pitch black maybe I would've been less frightened. As it was the grey shapes of fighting pirates looked dangerously chaotic and at the same time sharply direct in their violence. Trollmother was brought to the fallen, the bloody, the maimed. They smelled of gore and sweat. I was enlisted, no questions asked, to help staunch the flow of blood, to wipe fevered brows, and to drag unconscious bodies out of the melee.

It was not fun.

The sun had, for the most part, gone down but it was still terribly hot. There weren't many wounded, but there were enough to clutter the deck, to fill the air with pained moaning. When everything finally calmed down it was well into the night. The stars looked down, cold and bright, and watched as Malory's crew tied up their prisoners and looted the ship. It had finally turned cold but I was still warm with exhaustion and stress. I don't remember being brought below deck to bed, but I woke up there to an early apple pie. Well, it seemed early anyway. Maybe I'd slept late.

After my pie I took a short bath, feeling rather guilty about it. I found my plaid clothes hung in the wardrobe and put them on, glad that they were clean and glad that they were mine. Trollmother came in briefly and told me in a reassuring voice that no one had died, and the morning had come bright and clear. When she'd gone I decided to feed Blue.

'Come on Blue,' I said, taking her out of her cage. She sat and nibbled her breakfast in my palm. I let her run around the floor for a bit, following her under Trollmother's bed, ready to snatch her back if she went to far. It was dusty under there.

Somewhat occupied, too.

'Yar,' the voice was soft but menacing. 'Who be yer? Whatcher doin' down 'ere?'

I scrambled out from under the bed without Blue, not sure what had actually just happened. Was there really...well, it sounded like a pirate...was there really somebody....why would they be under the bed?

I had to find Blue before she disappeared through some crack or hole in the wall. And I was curious. I folded up the covers and kneeled down to look.

'Yaaaaarrrrr!' the thing yelped and there was a series of thuds. Blue shot out and crawled up the leg of my trousers. I grabbed her and backed away from the bed.

I was speechless, watching the hand that emerged, its green and yellow mottled fingers covered with rings and a jigsaw of smeary tatoos. It gripped the floor and dragged an elbow out into the room. Blue shivered and squeaked. I shivered and backed further into the wall. As far as I could. My bare toes went cold. The arm was followed by a tattered rag of a sleeve, so old and worn I could see through it to the greasy tatoos on the shoulder.

His head appeared next, cursing and angry. And uglier than anything I'd ever seen before. I cringed as the creature stood up and lurched sideways. The clothes he wore were stretched and full of holes, dangling rather than being worn. His ears were small and sticking out at odd angles, and they looked ...moldy. As he lurched again I started to look apprehensively at the door, but I wastn't truly terrified until I noticed I could...no, not really..I couldn't...not... but I could, yes I really could, see the pattern of Trollmother's comforter through the sickeningly gooey-looking skin of this...this thing.

I tried to scream but somewhere between all the fear and disgust it became a strangled gurgle.

'Har Harr, yer look so skeered 'n all. Whassat rat yer got thar?'

The thing pulled out a dagger and held it pointing straight at Blue. I shifted away from him and all my fear condensed into a heavy astonishment. Still nervous, I tried to find my voice.

'Who the heck,' I said, 'are you?'

'An' who be yer ter be askin', arr?'

At this I became slightly indignant, shifting some more, away from the knife, 'I asked you first.'

He sneered and snorted another laugh. In my efforts to get away from the ugly, transparent pirate, I tripped over my boots and almost dropped Blue.

'Arr, getap yer.' He held out a hand but I didn't take it. I stood up awkwardly with one hand full of gerbil, my barefeet collecting splinters from the rough wood floor. That knife was still pointedly accusing me of who knows what, and I was running out of room to move.

'Tell me why ye was peekin' under me bed,' he demanded. 'Else I'll skewer yer lungs fer me afternoon tea.'

I breathed, trying to calm down, and lied to myself about the likelyhood that he'd really impale my internal organs on that rather short, but nonetheless gleaming and sharp blade.

'I was just..My gerbil...' I proffered my hands, which held the quivering rodent. 'She crawled under the bed and I went to get her back, that's all.'

His eyes sharpened and glared at me, but he eventually put away his weapon and introduced himself as Ivan the Terrible, three-quarters sea-ghost, other quarter zombie.

'Zombie?'

'Yup. Me gran'fatha was a zombie. Gimme that rat thing.'

His tone was so authoritative I almost surrendered the poor gerbil.

'Hey. No. What do you want Blue for?'

'Givit 'ere, girlie.'

His hand was fingering the handle of the knife in his belt.

'No.'

I looked at the door, but the bed and Ivan's terribleness were both inbetween me and it. His eyes narrowed as he continued to demand that I give him Blue. I wondered if the portholes in the wall opened and if I could get out through them without drowning... Or if I could make myself scream loud enough and if I did if it would do any good.

'Listen girlie. Rats en't 'llowed in ther Catface. Captain's orders. Givit 'ere.'

'She's not a rat! Get away from me!'

[b:e64d03e34e]unspeakable culinary act #345: gerbil casserole.[/b:e64d03e34e]

'Look 'ere, girlie, I en't gonna hurt ye. Jus' gimme the rat. Givit 'ere, quick now, befores I gits angry.'

'I will not give her to you. And she's not a rat.'

The knife came out and spun gracefully around in the air before thudding, startling me, next to my baby toe, the blade so shudderingly close that my toe could kiss it. I froze.

'Whut loverly toes yez got, girlie. I'll let ye keep 'em if ye jus' 'and that thing 'ere, sensible like.'

Blue continued to shiver in my hands, and now goosebumps were accumulating on my arms. I held Ivan's eyes, fighting the repulsion their gooey wet whiteness created. My toe slid gently against the flat slick side of the knife. Blue crawled up my arm and under my sleeve. His knife was in my hand shortly. He reached out for the gerbil, to pluck her from my clothes and I cringed and struck, hesitant but with panicked force.

The blade did catch on his flesh, but it sank through. It went straight down and came out the other side, as if his arm were nothing but a cylindrical blob of molasses.

Ivan growled. I stared. If I....Could ... I don't think I... but the knife is real enough, right?....gosh... I used the weapon to poke at his ugly zombie-ghost skin. It went in smoothly and came back out with just the slightest resistance. What if...but... oh ew. ew! He had grabbed my wrist and twisted the knife out of my hand. His skin felt as slimy and gross as it looked. And it was cold. The pirate shoved me into the wall and growled some more, cursing unintelligibly, gripping my arm tighter.

I screamed then. Blue the gerbil was curled and frightened, hiding in my collar beneath my hair. Her tiny claws pricked into my skin. Ivan's breath was putrid and frozen.

Screaming didn't work. No one came. Struggling presented itself as my next option. I kicked at him but my feet just went through his semi-solid shins. I tried to push him away but this only half worked. His grip around my wrist was too sticky and strong.

So begging was next. 'Please, let go. Ow. Let go of me, stop it, stop it, I didn't mean to...grr...Ow. Ow. Please! Please, let me go!'

'Yer en't gonna cry, is ye?' he taunted. 'I do 'ate ter see a girlie cry.'

And with that I was free to blink away my few slithery tears and rub the feeling back into my hand. Blue still sat crouched in a warm fuzzy spot between my neck and my hair. I wasted no time in climbing across Trollmother's bed and out the door. I raced through the corridors below deck until I reached the sunny morning outside. I was headed for Malory's office but I collided with Moon Cat Blue before I got there.

'I--I--I--' I spluttered. 'There---He---'

'Woah, woah, Plaid.' She took my shoulders and held me still. Her eyes were blue, I noticed. Moon Cat Blue. What pretty golden hair. 'Plaid, what's wrong?'

'Ivan. He said his name was Ivan...the Terrible. And he tried to take Blue, and I wouldn't let him and he...' I rubbed my arm where the feeling of slimy, filthy ice still clung to my skin. 'He grabbed my arm and it hurt. And I...He was a zombie. Half a zombie...or something. He was hiding under Trollmother's bed!'

Moon Cat's understanding nod was very calming. 'Are you alright, though? Who's Blue?'

Blue. Where had she got to now? I didn't feel her in my collar. I ruffled my shirt and inspected the pockets of my trousers. she can't have gotten away... oh no... Oh good.

'Blue, why are you hiding down there?' She'd gnawing on my belt loop casually, as if nothing had happened. 'Yeah, we're alright,' I said to Moon Cat. 'This is Blue. A gerbil. Not a rat.'

'Oh. Well, come with me.'

I followed the blonde across the deck. I was feeling a lot better, until Moon Cat continued, 'And I thought we'd be able to trust you. A course, Trollmother shouldn't 'ave left you alone there, especially not with that r--gerbil gettin' into things. The Captain is gonna be in a tif about this. Ivan never fails to git on his nerves. Here, come on.'

I was confused. She'd led me into a large room which was divided down the center with thick metal bars. Among the dozen or so prisoners inside I saw Hermes standing on the far side, his back to us, his face pressed against the porthole, watching the water.

As Moon Cat opened the cell with her ring of keys he turned around.

'Maria!' he shouted with a grin. Moon Cat took me by the arm and manouvered me into the cell. I looked at her. She locked us in again, and my eyes searched her face.

'Stay 'ere Plaid. Ye'll be safe. It may be the Captain needs you a bit more and in that case I'll get you fetched back for 'im. There ought to be pie later on, but if not someone'll bring food.'

She left with a slight smile. I clutched Blue and felt lonely.

'Maria, I was wondering where they'd put you.'

'Its Plaid, Hermes. Harry. Whatever. Just call me Plaid.' I sat down in the corner and put a lid on my mental saucepan full of writhing thoughts. Hermes continuted to chatter but I didn't listen to him, or to any of the other prisoners. I stared, stroking Blue. Hermes asked about her but I glared at him so blackly he backed off. I tried to think about nothing, but the pot boiled over.

What if there wasn't pie? But there always had been pie. Twice a day. Like clockwork. Please Ba...wait, who am I praying to anyway? Ba Witda. God of Pie. Please don't let there not be pie.

'Blue,' I whispered. 'We want to get back to the island, don't we?' I held her furry little face up to mine and looked at her. 'And eat our pie on the firm ground and forget all about socks and pirates.' Blue twitched and nibbled my thumb. 'Nasty, ugly pirates.'

Moon Cat Blue wasn't ugly. Chris Jordan wasn't that ugly either. And Malory...what was it about his ear? I wondered if I'd ever see it or if he'd keep that hat on forever.

What would I say to Brad? He was going to wonder what I'd found out. What had I found out? Well, Captain Malory had turned Brad into a llama. How had he done that? And Brad would have known that already anyway.

I'd just have to wait. Brad couldn't blame me for trying. It wasn't my fault Maljonic knew. Someone had told him. Who?

I let Blue crawl around on my lap for a while. What had the words said to me? If they meant so much to Maljonic... All I could remember was control....control, and dates. Dates. Some of it dates. Some of what?

Control. I looked at Hermes, his nose up against the window, his breath pasted like filmy wallpaper on the glass.

Total control, wasn't it? Total control. but of what? Of me.

I sighed. Not only was I stuck on the Catface, I was now stuck in a prison cell with a dozen sweaty, grimy men. Some of them were wounded, I noticed when I looked closer. I recognized them from the night I'd helped Trollmother, the night they'd attacked that ship. I wondered what had happened to that ship.

'Blue...come back here...' I snatched her back onto my lap. Hermes turned.

'What is that thing? Can I hold it?'

I held the gerbil protectively. 'She's a gerbil. No, don't touch her. Leave me alone.'

Hermes sat down and joined me as I stared into space. I couldn't be bothered to shift further away from the paint covered guy. I couldn't be bothered to even notice that most of the paint had peeled off his fingers and elbows. I couldn't be bothered to do more than stare into space and strain to evesdrop on the cluster of bulky pirates on the other side of the cell.

I knew I would just have to wait until the Catface returned to the island. I didn't like it, but there was no way to do anything about it. Waiting was boring. I put Blue in my pocket, gently, and decided to pace.

Almost eleven paces wide, the cell was. Hermes watched with a puzzled look on his face. I paced back and forth four times, feigning interest in the floorboards.

Tony Black stepped in, rudely interrupting my pacing, and I very nearly snapped and went at him for all I was worth. It was his bloody scar and his ragged moustache and mostly his bulk that deterred my wrath. I glared up at him indignantly.

'Get out of my way.'

'You,' he growled, 'stay on yer own side er the cell!'

I just stood there. Why was Tony Black in a prison cell? What had he done? I guess he was wounded, but still...why imprisoned? 'Why are you here, Black?'

'Mind yer own bisness. Ifn we wants ter talk to ye, we'll let yer know. Now stay on yer own side!'

'I was just curious, geez,' I said, pacing back to my corner.

He tried to console me by saying they'd been even meaner to him. 'Look, look at my arm. They twisted it here. Its all red, you can see it even under this stripey stuff. It still hurts.'

I would probably always regret being so unfriendly to Hermes. Especially this Hermes, who had been brave enough to take amnesia upon himself for the sake of what had so far turned out to be the most pointless spying mission ever. I sat down again next to him and tried to look interested and sympathetic as he continued to babble about his peeling paint and how much he liked his hat.

'That guy over there won't give it back though. He took it, and he's not even wearing it, its just tied on his belt. Can you get it back Maria?'

'Plaid. Not Maria. And you're Hermes. Well, unless you like being called Peg-leg Harry. Do you?'

'Peg-leg Harry. I don't know. Could I get a peg leg, do you think? It might be fun if I really had a peg leg, to be called Peg-leg Harry.'

I laughed at him. He didn't know what he was saying. I considered telling him about Brad and the island.

'You don't remember Brad, do you?'

'Who?'

'Do you remember anything?'

'No, you know I don't. And you don't either.'

A slippery and burning cold guilt tickled my heart. 'I lied about that.' My eyes dropped to the floor. The truth was easier, I decided. After the mess lying to Maljonic had caused, I didn't feel up to continuing in pretense.

'So ...'

'Don't-- I had to. I-- Really, I don't know much more than you. It's all Brad's fault,' I glanced at him, not knowing how to explain everything. It didn't make sense. Not even what Maljonic had shown me. I remembered Fred. I wished I could ask him. Moon Cat Blue had said...

'Wait. I'm...Hermes?'

I took a deep breath. 'Brad named you Hermes, I guess. You came to the island before I did. You and Brad were the first ones I met.'

'There are others? Not pirates?'

'Lots of them. They live underground, on the island. The pirates ...' I stopped before I got into the Sock Wars. I didn't know what they were all about yet. 'Well,' I went on, 'we're stuck with the pirates for now.'

Hermes looked confused. 'Why?'

Hm. I'd have to get into the sock wars to answer that one. And from what I knew about Hermes, he'd keep asking Why for who knew how long. I didn't have that many answers.

'Brad sent us. To spy on Malory. It's complicated. I'm not really sure myse...' I stopped talking and Hermes and I looked up into the faces of a few curious pirates who had crowded around us.

'Brad sent you?' Tony Black spoke first. They were all looking at Hermes. 'Both of you?'

I stood up and looked back at them.

'Yes.' I guess they'd thought Hermes was just another prisoner. Until now.

'There's talk ye's seen Fred.'

Was that an accusation, or what? I didn't know what to say in response. Hermes interrupted and asked, 'Fred? Who's Fred?'

The curious looks had turned a bit suspicious. One of them, I didn't recognize him, put a hand on Tony Black's shoulder. 'Don't, Black...' he said.

'Elrond, ifn they might talk, we kin always cut their tongues out. 'Sides. She looks like we kin trust 'er, meybe. And 'e's too stupid to betray us. Fred could eat 'im alive if 'e tried it.'

'How do you know about Fred?'

'Ah.' The pirates looked at each other.

'Well?' I was the one asking questions now.

'Have you seen him?' another pirate asked, from behind Black.

'Who wants to know? Are you going to tell me what's going on? How do you know about Fred?'

'Come 'ere.' Both of ye.'

They cleared a space for Hermes and I to join the rest of the pirates on the other side of the cell. It was darker there, away from the portholes.

'Sit down.' Only Black remained standing. He leaned against the wall and waited for silence.

'Plaid, first ye's got ter swear ye won't let nothin' we say go back ter the Captain. 'e don't know 'bout Fred. An' 'e wouldn' like it if 'e 'eard, either.'

I looked around. I decided to swear.

'Yer friend too, make 'im swear.'

'Hermes? Trust them. Fred...You used to know Fred. Go on, swear.'

He did so. Tony Black joined the rest of us on the floor and rolled back his sleeve. It was above his elbow, slightly grimy, but clear. An elephant tatooed in white.

'If ye's seen Fred,' Black said, 'ye know what that is.'

I looked at him. 'It's an elephant. There are probably--' I paused and my eyes shifted under the hot scrutiny of the rest of those pirates, 'lots of elephants like that.'

'No elephant,' somebody said, 'is like Fred.'

'Okay. What is this about? You've got an elephant tatooed on your arm. So?'

I felt the pirates bristle angrily. There was a long silence.

'Tell me,' I said.

'Listen,' Black said, 'we need to know somethin'. Fer twenty years sum of us've been waitin', keepin' quiet, jus' waitin', and we need to know if it en't all been fer nothin'. Is 'e real? 'Ave ye seen 'im?'

'Fred?' I asked. They all nodded eagerly, murmuring in anticipation. 'Yeah, I've seen him. He's Orrdos's elephant.'

The silence this time was as tense as before, only happier. Excited whispers sprang through it, poking lots of tiny holes in the quiet, expressing an amazement I'd never seen before. Some of them were even kissing each others' elephant tatoos. I looked at Hermes.

'Who's Fred?' he asked again.

'A really, really weird elephant. Just wait til we get back to the island. You'll see.'

'Is it true? Is it true he is as big as the Garner?'

'They tol' me 'e could spit fire, can 'e? can 'e?'

'What about Charlotte? Ye seen 'er? What's she look like?'

'What?' I was being thrown questions one after the other.

''ow big is 'is tatoo? The bananner one? 'S it 's big 's me 'and? 'S big 's me foot? 'S big 's yer foot?'

'Did 'e talk ter ye? Did 'e?'

I closed my eyes and tried to shut out the pressing faces and their questions. 'I don't know!' I shouted. 'I only saw him once! I don't know. Stop!' I stood up as Tony Black also yelled for silence. The group went still.

'Plaid, ye got ter understand. We's been waitin' fer Fred fer a long time.'

'Waiting for him to do what? He's just an...an elephant.'

Black's face fell.

'Well...' I grew nervous. 'Not just an elephant. He's a...well, I... I don't know.'

'They's told us Fred will give us arr memories back. They told us...'

'How?' I gasped. Orrdos hadn't mentioned this. No one had mentioned this. 'Who told you?'

''s been handed down fer years, to us chosen ones. The mark chose us.'

The pirate who said this was hunched over and old. He'd been hurt badly the other night, I remembered. His arm was in a sling and his jaw looked swollen.

'Those elephant tatoos?'

He nodded. 'Not tatoos. More like...birthmarks.'

'And you think Fred, the elephant on the island, is going to...give you back your memories?'

He nodded again.

'Where did you get that idea?'

He shook his head. 'I can't answer that question. All we knows is that we believe in Fred. We've been waiting for 'im. Tell us, can 'e tell us who we was? before?'

'I--I--' I looked helpless. I had no answers. Fred had spoken to Orrdos, but I hadn't heard one word of it. Fred had looked at me and I had been frightened. Well, nervous at least. But I didn't know what it meant, if it meant anything.

:shock:

I don't remember a lot of this stuff, because first time I read it was so long ago. Soooo interesting, though.

Post more.