Chapter 31

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Tyrio smelled flowers. That wasn't right. If he had perished, as he thought, he would have wound up in a place with leaping flames for sure. No, he definitely shouldn't have smelled flowers.

Peeling himself off the ground of the rec room, he found Albb and Sergius also on the floor. Both had just begun to stir, too.

"Hey, what the heck?" Tyrio rubbed his head. Out the small porthole window he saw daylight. "We've landed?"

"Apparently," said Albb, managing to get up. Sergius groaned and leaned against the couch.

"But who? How? Where are we? Serge, we need you at the window. You can see outside it better than we can."

Father Sergius braced himself against the couch and wobbled over to the porthole.

"It's, ah... some kind of... harbor. There are a number of foreign boats, probably fifty meters long and wide as well. Directly below us is a lawn... rather nicely kept I should add."

"Wait. Do you hear that?"

With frayed eyebrows Father Sergius turned, exasperated. "Have you had a look at my ears lately, captain?"

"Shh. Come on. Everyone into the kitchen, pronto."

"Aye? The kitchen?"

"Just do it. Quick!"

Tyrio, Albbenaro, and Father Sergius poking along, slipped into the kitchen and shut the door.

"Now why in the blazes and the blossoms did we come in here? Captain?" Sergius tacked it on after the fact.

"Keep your voice down. There's someone outside and they don't sound friendly. Wait, they just stopped... Now they're coming this way."

"But if we're in the hopes of hiding, captain," whispered Sergius, "and it seems a fair bet we are, what good is standing in here for? Shouldn't we at least avail ourselves of the cupboards?"

"No one ever notices the kitchen."

"Oh, for the love of Macbeth..." The priest sat down at the table and shook his head in his hands.

Even Sergius soon heard doors opening all over the ship and the flip flap of floppy feet. He also heard the shuffling of heavy clothing, the dragging of equipment, and the occasional foreign word. After five or so minutes, however, he heard the main hatch shutting with finality.

"Now how, begging your pardon if I sound a-trifling, did no one notice the kitchen door?" he asked in a half-angry way that made Tyrio laugh.

"Did you notice it," asked Albbenaro, "when Tyrio had you under house arrest?"

Father Sergius thought. And he thought.

With a cheese-eating grin, Tyrio shrugged as if to say, 'What can I say?' and proceeded to open the door again. After a few exaggerated stretches, he exited into the rec room.

Halfway out, however, the priest froze. "Oh, Christ. But what about the girls?"

Tyrio and Albbenaro both looked at him. Then it dawned on them, too. Somehow they had forgotten about them! Yanking open the door to the hallway, Tyrio rushed toward and then ducked onto the bridge. He crawled quickly to the window.

He saw exactly what he feared. A group of twelve robed figures, hardly human in their bearing, and some kind of frog dragged away the four girls, luggage and all, in the back of a large two-wheeled cart. For the first time Tyrio also got a look at the true nature of their landing, because as plain as the nose on his face, before him rose the massive building Elise and Dorothy had thought looked so beautiful from a distance. Now it looked ornate and imposing, and sent Tyrio shimmying—and shivering—back into the hall with the news.

"We're certainly in a pickle now," lamented Sergius, sitting on the couch as Tyrio finished his report.

"And the real doozy," added Albbenaro, "is that it was one of the girls who got us to safety. Dorothy was the last one I saw standing."

"And now she and the others are getting hauled away by a bunch of funky dudes in robes led by a walking, talking frog. Not my kind of poetry, either! Unfortunately," Tyrio concluded, "there's not a whole lot we can do about that."

Father Sergius looked up sharply. "And what do you mean by that, lad?"

"I mean that running after them isn't going to help. Look," he added as the father opened his mouth again, "if you want to charge out there this time, be my guest, but I REALLY think the best thing we can do is repair and arm our ship. If we can get this puppy in the air again with its heater online, you can bet you those chumps will talk."

Gravely, Father Sergius lowered his chin at the goblin. "Aye, and you'd best talk yourself, because a good man might I be, captain, if you try to leave those girls behind, I'm going to stick my sword through your heart so you see it out the other side."

Tyrio nodded bigly—honestly a little impressed at the priest's candor—and yet not taking him quite as seriously as he might have. He looked at Albbenaro only to find his pilot returning him a wry but meaningful look.

"And if it's not his sword, it's my knife. We're in this together or not at all, Tyrio."

Tyrio nodded less stupidly this time. "All-righty then."

"

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