The Unorthodox Expedition: Part Eight

     As premonitions go, his had the usual vagueness; but it seemed, to him, worse than a specific premonition would have been.

     He quickly galloped down the short path he had traversed. The same mysterious forces that had revealed the premonition to him carried the mutant Ixi's feet to a most horrific sight.

     The Captain's wife, Lucille Harmond, was in a dead faint on the ground. Sam Harmond, stood nearby, hugging his Warf and whimpering. Lilith Ferrars was kneeling over someone on the ground, someone who looked like he was dying. Someone he knew.

     "E-Edwin?" Henry's hoarse voice cracked and the dense mist of shock nearly overpowered him. Henry fell to his knees before his fallen brother.

     "He was bitten by a Reptillior. We need to find a way to get the venom out of him," Lilith said, with such presence of mind that Henry wanted to slap her. Who was she to be so calm when his brother was dying?

     "Henry, are you listening to me?" Lilith asked firmly and slowly, as if she were talking to a child. "I'm going to get the others. Stay here, please. Sam, try to wake Mrs. Harmond."

     Lilith strode away purposefully.

     The minutes it took for her to get back seemed like years to Henry. He knelt by his brother and held his hand; comforted, somewhat, by Edwin's faint pulse.

     Sebastian Duske rushed in before the others, (one may assume the petpets had been driven off). He pulled out a knife, and, through a series of medical practices he learned in Shenkuu, drew out some of the poison in Edwin's body. Captain Harmond then bandaged the wound with an extra shirt.

     Edwin was still rasping a bit. His face was an unnatural color, and his mouth hung open. He seemed less fitful now, but our explorers couldn't tell if that was because of Sebastian's treatment or a weakening of Edwin's body.

     Lilith went to Edwin's side and clutched his other hand, the one that was bitten. Perseus put his head on her shoulder. They all stood, with their heads bowed, forming a protective circle around their afflicted comrade (excepting Lucille Harmond, as she was leaning on a boulder after having regained consciousness).

     “‘Old it, now!" Old Phil said, breaking the sacred silence. He hobbled back the way they had come, leaving our explorers confused.

     He returned, holding something over his head triumphantly. It was a flask full of Essence of Everlasting Apple, to everyone's surprise. "I was savin' it fer 'mergincies. We could giff it to the boy."

     The old, wrinkled Spotted Gelert looked nothing less than an angel for a moment.

     Captain Harmond uncorked the vial with his cutlass, and Lilith slowly poured the potion down Edwin Chum's throat, while Elizabeth Steele held his head up. When it was empty, she laid him back down and they all watched him expectantly.

     Then- suddenly- Edwin's face twitched. His muscles rippled a bit, and his eyes fluttered open and closed again, and he coughed.

     Sam gasped.

     "It's all right now," Sebastian said reassuringly, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder. "His brain is just making sure everything's working properly, after being so close to death. Edwin is going to be okay."

     There was an audible whoosh as everyone released breaths they didn't realize they had been holding. They all gave relieved laughs and happy smiles to each other.

     Henry was ecstatic. He had been so sure that Edwin was as good as dead. To everyone's surprise, the grateful mutant Ixi turned to Lilith Ferrars, who was sitting nearest to him, and gave her a fierce, warm hug.

     She was a bit bewildered by this turn of events, but in that situation, the random hug couldn't have been more fitting. (Sebastian, however, bitterly thought it a bit clichéd.)

     When Henry pulled away, his face was wet with tears. He smiled bravely right through them.

     No thanks were necessary. The crew had saved his brother, and now, Henry would happily die for them.

     "Maybe we should postpone the expedition, so we can get Edwin back to town. We can hardly go gallivanting off after some treasure while he's in this state," Captain Harmond proposed.

     "Wait, that won't be necessary," Henry said, drying his face on the Professor's handkerchief.

     "What? Why not?" Elizabeth wondered.

     "The treasure, as you will see, isn't as out of reach as we thought it would be."

     "Just how far is it?" Sebastian asked.

     "Ten- no- about twelve yards along a path, there lies a treasure chest."

     *****

     Just as he said, the chest was found. In plain sight, on top of some scraggly grass and clumsily placed close to the edge of the mountain.

     "This is all very strange," Cornelius said, getting flustered.

     "I agree. But, let's open the thing before we jump to conclusions," Lilith said logically.

     The chest was rather unimpressive. It was made of a plain, dark wood, rather weathered and faded in most places. It was fastened with a heavy, tarnished silver padlock.

     One heavy stroke with Elizabeth Steele's hatchet severed the lock. Sebastian and the Captain carried it to a less precarious location.

     Captain Harmond turned to Cornelius Winthrop and gestured grandly. "If you would do the honors, Idiot Professor."

     Cornelius coughed and straightened his spectacles before taking a deep breath, approaching the chest, and pushing back the top.

     All assembled gave a collective gasp. The chest was full of pearls!

     There were pearls of all sizes, and thousands of them: some barely larger than a grain of sand, others the size of an eyeball.... There were countless shades of white, cream, pale purple, paler blue, and a dusty sort of peach. The pearls shone with a milky light in the warm sun as it beat down over the scene.

     Lilith picked up one of the larger pearls, a golden- colored one.

     "They're genuine," she confirmed. "The weight is right, the surface is smooth, they give the appropriate luster." She pulled a knife out of her boot, and, before anyone could protest, drew the edge along the surface of the gem. She held it up to the light then; there was not a mark on it. "And the hardness is proper, too."

     "Well, that's good, isn't it?" said Mrs. Harmond. "Now everything will be a lot simpler; just get this thing to Brightvale, no "gallivanting" necessary."

     "It can't possibly be that simple!" Elizabeth Steele burst out. "If a chest full of pearls was just lying around here, shouldn't someone have carried it off already?"

     "Maybe no one thought to look for it?" Sam communicated in his sign language, which Lilith translated.

     "Aye! Or mebbe they nev'r found the path, like 'enry did fer us!" said Old Phil. Henry himself, after showing everyone the way up, had chosen to stay behind with his brother.

     "Well, what would you propose?" Captain Harmond asked. "What could possibly be behind this?"

     But no one could answer.

     "Er- a curse?" Lilith suggested with a shrug. "That's all I can think of."

     Everyone stopped and just looked at the open box, nearly overflowing, as it was, with riches. Its worn wooden sides and the now-broken, rusty padlock seemed the picture of innocence. An adorable little Miamouse stopped and curiously sniffed a white pearl that had fallen from its case.

     "It certainly doesn't look cursed," Lilith observed.

     "Honestly, everyone," Sebastian Duske concluded, "I don't see how much more straightforward it could get from a case of gems. I say we take it."

     "W-well, it would seem that that is our only option," the Idiot Professor pointed out. "Let's take it."

      And take it they did.

     *****

     Our explorers made it out of the jungle alive.

     The weakened Edwin Chum was carried to town on a makeshift litter. He recovered enough to make the journey back to Brightvale, though he was forbidden to overexert or even exert himself.

     The chest was privately secreted onto Contemplative Philosophies, placed in a burlap sack and surrounded by dirty laundry to disguise it.

     The day our cheerful explorers set off was rather windy. It was a Monday, so the Harbour of Mystery Island was crowded with barges: slender Shenkuviaan vessels, trading barges from Neopia Central, the many unique ships from Krawk Island, submarines or semi- submersibles from Maraqua, crude Tyrannian boats, powered only by sheer force, and many other breeds of floatation mechanisms.

     Our explorers boarded the green and gold Contemplative Philosophies with their loot. Happy due to their successful voyage, they waved cheerfully at the many civilians and foreigners crowding the dock.

     As they drifted farther and farther away from Mystery Island, Elizabeth Steele, who was leaning over the balustrade leading to the quarterdeck, took a deep breath of the salty sea air. Lilith, reclining behind her, had drawing tools on her lap.

     "Elizabeth?" she said, after a few moments of tranquil silence.

     "What?" Elizabeth replied, not bothering to turn around.

     "...If you don't mind me asking, what did Anna look like?"

     This question took Elizabeth by surprise. "W-why do you want to know?"

     Lilith shrugged. "I kind of thought I could draw her for you. It's okay if you don't want me to, though."

     Elizabeth was silent for a moment, as if she was calling up memories long buried. She spoke slowly. "She looked a lot like me, of course. Both of us were born yellow, but we saved up enough after a while to paint Anna red. We were tired of people mistaking us for each other, you see. Red was her favorite color...

     "Anna was a bit smaller than me; her eyes were bigger, and her nose was more angular. She had a mole on her neck, right here." Elizabeth pointed to a spot to the right side of her own neck, near her collarbone. "And... well, that's about it." She turned back to the ocean.

     Meanwhile, Lilith's pencils were flying over her paper like the "new-fangled flyin' monstross'ties from Shenkuu", to quote Old Phil.

     Edwin, across the deck, was clumsily tuning his fiddle. Henry hovered near him like a second shadow. Sebastian Duske was lazily shining his boots.

     "So, what'll you do with your share of the treasure, Henry?" Sebastian inquired rather stiffly, remembering the hug back in the jungle.

     "I don't know. Buy new clothes, maybe a petpet," Henry replied. "What about you?"

     "I was saving up for a ship of my own. Promised Papa I'd be a captain, you see. He holds me to it," Sebastian said, with a short laugh. "I promised that more than ten years ago, mind. Every young lad wants to be a sailor."

     "Really? I preferred the military, myself."

     "I can imagine, Chum."

     Sebastian looked up at the drifting clouds as the salty wind whipped his dark hair, as if imagining what could have been if he hadn't made that rash promise to his father, all those years ago.

     *****

     Lucille Harmond bustled about down in the galley, putting some finishing touches on the crew's supper.

     Cornelius Winthrop came in through the swinging doors, and had to cough a bit to get Mrs. Harmond's attention.

     "Um... excuse the intrusion, madam, but I was w-wondering if you needed any help," he said, pushing his spectacles up. "I-I've nothing else to do, and everyone has helped me, so...."

     Being the practical woman she is, Mrs. Harmond snipped off what was turning into a sappy speech.

     "Thank you, Idiot Professor. You can set the table." She pointed out the dishes and turned back to her mashed potatoes.

     Sam looked up from the tumblers he was rinsing and grinned companiably at Cornelius.

     Professor Winthrop, staggering under the weight of a tray of filets, tried to return it.

     "Nine plates, Professor!" Lucille called, looking up from the cloud of steam surrounding her mashed potatoes. She slid the platter in the oven before serving it.

     "Yes, ma'am!" Cornelius replied obediently.

     He pulled down nine plates from the cupboard and tried to lift the lot. He slid his permanently ink-stained fingers under the painted porcelain and lifted with all his strength.

     The plates didn't budge.

     Cornelius looked at the plates grievously. The speckled Lenny pushed his spectacles up his beak, and tried again. Then again. Then a fourth time.

     "Ach, boy, what's taking so long?" Lucille asked, standing with her hands on her hips and flour on her nose in the doorway.

     "J-just having some trouble with the plates, ma'am."

     Lucille huffed angrily and pushed past his gangly frame. She picked up the heavy plates and left the kitchen to put them on the table. Cornelius stood there, embarrassed.

     "If you were my son, boy," Lucille said, wiping her hands on her apron as she came back in, "I'd have your hide for being so weak. Didn't your Papa teach you any sports?"

     "H-he certainly tried, ma'am," Cornelius said, now much flustered. "I-I just never took to it. My brother, George, was the athletic one. I always preferred books to balls."

     "Hmph. Now, that's just unnatural. Well, takes all kinds of people to make the world go round, as me Mum said."

     Lucille pulled the mashed potatoes out of the oven. "Just as well, we'll be in Brightvale by morning," she muttered.

To be continued...