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36.2: EXPECTATION MANAGEMENT (part 2)

When they were back in the hold the next day—could one even say 'the next day' any more? Harriet didn't know—they heard a shout of "Land ahoy!" Harriet looked across at Rupert, but he was still sitting with Eugenia and did not look back. So she waited with baited breath until the door opened.

"All right, then," said the bald sailor. "Up and out!"

They shuffled to their feet and out of the hold. This time, to Harriet's dismay, their hands were pulled behind them and tied fast with thick rope. Still, Harriet's mind whirred with excitement as she climbed the steps to the deck. Even their horrible situation could not stop her imagination leaping ahead. What would Day be like? Would it be like in the stories—a lush green land peppered with picturesque forests, lakes, and wildflower meadows? Would there be cavorting unicorns? Pixies in toadstool rings? Kindly elves? What would the fairies be like?

Her mind was still spinning when she emerged on deck and was prodded towards the gunwale. She squinted ahead, out at the land spreading before them, and gasped in dismay. Where she had imagined lush grasslands there were expanses of barren rocky soil. Where she had hoped for pretty cottages there was a huddle of small wooden shacks by the water's edge, and where she had really hoped for a rescue party there was only a grimy, extremely sunburnt man standing at the edge of a dilapidated jetty, flanked by two rather larger but equally sunburnt men.

Captain Dora stood at the bow of the ship, her legs braced against the deck as the vessel manoeuvred in to port beside the jetty. She waved down at the waiting men. "Ahoy there," she shouted.

The sunburnt man squinted up at her. "Ahoy yourself," he said. "So what you got for us today?"

"A few special ones this time." Captain Dora gestured to her crew, who ran down the gang-plank. Harriet and the vampires were prodded down it. Once on the jetty, they were prodded some more until they stood in a line facing the sunburnt man and his cronies. Harriet was stood beside Rupert. She tried to catch his gaze, but he refused to look at her.

For Day's sake, Harriet thought. This is not the time to hold a grudge, Rupert. We have to stick together. But she had no time to say all that, for the sunburnt man was inspecting them closely. He made a small noise of satisfaction when he looked at Eugenia, twisted his mouth and grunted as he examined Rupert, and frowned as he took in Harriet's lack of evening dress.

"Hmph." He stepped back. "I guess they'll do."

"Wonderful." Captain Dora grinned. "Oh, and I almost forgot. We've a little extra something for you this time." She clicked her fingers up at her crew, and the bald sailor went running. A moment later he was back, a nervous expression on his face.

"Er, Captain?"

"What?"

He held up Juggalug's cage. Empty. Harriet suppressed a grim smile. "I don't know what happened, Cap'n. It's still locked."

"Day save me from incompetence!" Captain Dora snapped. She turned back to the sunburnt man. "Maybe forget about that extra something."

The man shrugged. "Makes no odds to me." He gestured to one of his heavies. The bodyguard stepped forward and handed the Captain a bulging sack. It went clink.

Captain Dora magicked the sack away in much the same way she had Harriet's purse. Then she turned to bestow a last smile upon the captives. Harriet, not naturally a violent person, felt an overwhelming urge to punch her. From the growls coming from Eugenia and Rupert—much more supernaturally violent people—she guessed they were feeling something similar.

"Well, good luck to you all." The Captain tipped her hat to them. "Or good Day, I should say." With an unpleasant chuckle, she strode back up the gang-plank and out of sight. Harriet watched with some despair as the crew began hauling anchor. Much as she'd hated being on that ship, she also hated to see their last chance at getting home retreating back out to sea.

Her attention was reclaimed by the sunburnt man. Hands behind his back, he rocked on his heels in front of them. "You do what I say now, do you understand?" No one responded. "I said, do you understand?"

Harriet found herself nodding. She glanced at Rupert, and this time he glanced back. It wasn't as comforting as Harriet had hoped, for his eyes were full of fear.

"Good," the sunburnt man continued. "Now, cheer up, it ain't so bad. After all, I know what you want." He gestured to his other bodyguard, who produced a second sack. This one did not clink. But it did, ever so faintly, sparkle. "Now, who's for a bit of fairy-dust?"

Rupert's head shot up. "You're just going to... give it to us?"

The sunburnt man stepped up to him, giving Rupert a gap-toothed grin. "And this is just a taster, my vampiric friend. There's more where this comes from, if you behave yourself." He cocked his head. "Do we have a deal?"

Rupert nodded. "Yes, sir!"

The man clapped him on the shoulder. "Good vamp." He gestured to the bodyguard, who stepped up to Rupert and opened the bag. With the other hand he produced a small goblet, no larger than a thimble. Dipping this into the bag, he drew it out filled with... light. Harriet's eyes widened. The substance in the thimble glittered like liquid starlight, so beautiful it made tears spring to her eyes. The guard held the thimble to Rupert's lips. He opened his mouth eagerly and the guard tipped the sparkling dust inside. Rupert closed his eyes, jaw working as he swallowed. Harriet watched anxiously. Surely something odd was going on here. Why would they just give fairy-dust away to their captives? But Rupert did not seem in distress. On the contrary, a slow smile spread across this face. Then he opened his eyes and smacked his lips.

"Delicious!"

Eugenia had been waiting on Rupert's reaction. "Me next!" she cried. The bodyguard moved to her, handing her a tiny thimbleful of the glittering powder. Like Rupert, her expression melted into ecstasy as she swallowed the stuff down.

Harriet was last. But when the thimble was held to her lips, she balked. No matter how beautiful the fairy-dust looked, and no matter how delicious the vampires claimed it was, she still didn't trust this turn of events.

"Um. No, thank you."

The bodyguard frowned. "It isn't optional, sweetheart. Open up."

Harriet looked at the guard's muscles and considered what her chances were of refusing. The answer: extremely low. She sighed and opened her mouth.

The fairy-dust exploded on her tongue. It tasted like firecrackers and strawberry jam, like the coldest ice cream as well as the warmest cottage pie. It reminded her of all the times she had been happy and cosy and loved. It reminded her of her mother, and the smell of honey.

"Oh my," Harriet gasped.

The sunburnt man grinned at them all. "Now, let's go meet some fairies, shall we?"