Thieves Alike

Nathan could see the distress in Zena by the way she limped along. To his knowledge, she didn't injure her leg like she did her hand. Her hand, which she currently had squeezed tightly in a ball, was wrapped with gauze from his bag. He could also sense the mental distress she was going through; the uncertainty and the struggling willingness of wanting to continue on. He tried to ignore the signs, but her eyes caught him looking concernedly in her direction.

     "Maybe we should turn back," Zena said. She had been wagering the risks of continuing on with her current injuries and the lack of proper shelter. And to add to her concerns, they still had no plans once they arrived at their destination. She wasn't even sure she felt like continuing on. The charm of their adventure had begun to wear.

     "Back to Malvus' place?" Nathan asked, knowing perfectly well what she meant.

     "I don't think I can do this," Zena said. Nathan remained quiet for a moment.

     "I can't go back," Nathan paused. "And I don't think it'd be healthy for you either." Zena cocked her head concernly and gave him a crooked glance.

     "I mean I don't think you'd be happy there. People are blaming us for the damage we caused, your Aunt and Uncle show no interest in you, and Hector has moved his Capriors deeper into the country," Nathan said, partly because he wanted her company and partly because it was true.

     "I thought you made it clear that it was only you that caused the storm," Zena smirked.

     "Yeah, but as you pointed out, it'd only be a matter of time before everyone put the pieces together. And skipping town with me doesn't make you look any more innocent," Nathan said. Zena sighed.

     "It's true, I wouldn't feel happy back in Silver Hills, and I really want to see Neopia Central. Let's just make sure we get there as quickly as possible," Zena said. Nathan agreed. Especially now that they lost their tarp. The tent would only shelter them from the morning mildew or, at most, a light rainfall.

     Nearly an hour had passed since Zena's fall. The white noise of the river in the distance had been getting increasingly louder and the river was now in clear view as the two teens emerged from the tree line. Long, smooth rolls of rock lined the riverbank, perfect for walking along and perfect for a picnic if the situation was different.

     Nathan asked Zena if he could inspect her hand. He unravelled the gauze concealing her injury, revealing a darkened, fleshy wound. He darted his eyes quickly to hers and back again at the wound.

     "Let's rinse this. I have some antibiotics in my bag." Nathan rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a small tin. After Zena rinsed her wound, Nathan smeared some white cream over the infected area. She winced hard, but refrained from contracting her arm.

     "I can always stay with Hector on the plains," Zena said, bringing up the conversation again.

     "Would that make you happy?" Nathan asked, unravelling a new piece of gauze.

     "He's my brother," Zena reminded him.

     "I could go with you, but I don't think you'd be happy there either. Maybe for a while, but you'd need some socialisation, and you know how your brother is. He doesn't say much on his chattiest days."

     "You should see how much he talks about you after you leave," Zena teased.

     "Ah. A bit of that spark came back," Nathan said as he wrapped her hand back up. "Good things I presume." Zena rolled her eyes. But Nathan was right. It wasn't a good idea to stay with Hector either. Hector had already made that same point to her before he left.

     Then, in the corner of her eye, Zena noticed something approaching on the river.

     "Hey, what's that?" Zena said, pointing up the river. What looked like a small, white tug boat was zigzagging in their direction. Zena felt the urge to run back into the trees, but hesitated when Nathan showed no sign of distress. Instead, he began to wave the boat over.

     "Are you crazy?! How do you know that isn't someone looking for us?!" Zena snapped.

     "There are lots of boats on this river. What are the chances?" Nathan said, still waving. Although he said nothing, he was feeling concerned that Zena needed more medical attention than he could provide.

     "Plenty. What if word has spread about our disappearance and posters with our faces have been set up?"

     "Like wanted posters?" Nathan couldn't help but bellow out in laughter.

     "Well you never know," Zena said, scrunching her face in retaliation.

     "I guess we are about to find out," Nathan said dismissively. The boat continued to float haphazardly in their direction, a little quicker than Zena felt comfortable with. It was wide and constructed out of painted timber planks. Lined around the whole perimeter were thick tires of various sizes attached to the boat's hull. The boat appeared worn and beaten up with several obvious patch jobs concealing significant holes.

     "I don't like the look of this," Zena hesitated. Not only did the boat not look inviting, but it was still coming in fast. She started to back up. Nathan soon began to feel uneasy too. A bell on the boat suddenly began to chime.

     "Watch out!" Zena shouted, grabbing Nathan's arm and pulling him away from the incoming boat. The boat's bow began to turn away, but not quick enough as it bumped into the side of the rock a split second later. The boat bounced off the rock and continued downriver.

     "Hey!" Nathan shouted out, glaring both at the boat and at Zena for grabbing him. He was more than quick enough to get out of the way in time and didn't require her help.

     At first, the boat appeared to be empty, but a head suddenly popped up and glanced over at them before disappearing again. The tugboat came to a slow stop, then slowly backed up until it met flush with the rocks.

     "Sorry 'bout that. Did I hit ye?" A voice called out and a Chia popped his head back up again. The Yellow Chia wore a bandana over his brow and head and two eye patches: one that covered his left eye and another flipped up above his right eye. His mouth hung open with a half smile, revealing six stubby brown teeth, as he stood there waiting for an answer.

     "Nearly! Can't you steer that thing?!" Nathan shot back.

     "Sure. Ye didn't see me turn?" The Chia answered.

     "A bit late. You hit the river bank," Zena chimed in.

     "That's 'cause me bird was late at ringin' the bell. Musta' fallen asleep, that lazy cod!" The Chia stared up at a Weewoo perched motionless up on the boat's makeshift crows nest. A large, rusty bell hung below its feet. Zena and Nathan glanced at each other, slightly puzzled.

     "Shouldn't you be the one watching? You're on a river! You almost hit us!" Zena's cold stare was enough to make Nathan feel uncomfortable.

     "Uh, sorry 'bout that. I- er- was tyin' me shoe and the bend suddenly showed up," the pirate fumbled out an obvious fib, then saw the gauze wrapped around Zena's hand. "Hey, ye looks hurt."

     "Yeah, a bit," Zena said, staring down at her hand. The tension she was feeling settled somewhat upon realising her tough day was making her more irritable than normal.

     "She nearly fell off a ledge," Nathan added.

     "Aye. There be plenty 'round here o' that sort," the Chia mused. "Come aboard an' I'll stitch ye up proper." He paused. "Ye, er, don't really need no stitches though, eh?"

     "No, it's just a rope burn," Zena said and couldn't help but smile. She found the Chia oddly sweet.

     "Aye, I've plenty o' experience with that o'er the years. Capt'n Arch has the best remedies 'round fer rope burns." He paused again. "That's me o' course. I learned that remedy from a trip t' Myst'ry Isle in me younger years. Hop up an' I'll see t' yer wound."

     The Chia unlatched a door on the side of the boat, opened it up and the two teens climbed reluctantly aboard. Ropes, thick and thin, were scattered everywhere in tangled up heaps including one of which was tied to a cinder block, presumably as an anchor. It was no wonder he was accustomed to rope burns Zena mused as she took cautious steps. It was hard to move around the deck without rubbing against something.

     "What are ye doin' out here anyway? Runaways?" Arch asked, chuckling to himself.

     "Sort of. We're heading to Neopia Central," Zena said.

     "That's the direction I'm headed!" Arch said. "Feel free t' stay aboard! Would save ye lots o' trouble." Zena and Nathan exchanged uncertain glances, but agreed it would save them time and energy. Zena didn't know if she could spend any more time walking through the woods and Nathan, who loved the outdoors, was feeling the same. Together, they accepted the offer. Arch laughed and patted them on the back, promising them a good time. He picked up a large pipe and pushed them away from the rock, closed and latched up the side door, and let the river's currents do their work.

     On the deck, several empty barrels lay on their side and stacks of crates filled in any ropeless voids. The wooden crates were stacked in uneven piles, either carelessly or as a result of the constant jostling of the boat. Their contents seemed to be unharmed, though most appeared to be empty.

     Around the crates, bits of garbage and fish bones littered the floor, giving off a pungent smell. A couple of broken fishing rods lay against a semi-secured life-saver, hung on the wall beside the entrance to the wheelhouse. The Chia lead them inside, where papers and photos of random Neopians lined the walls and a hammock hung along the wall closest to the ship's wheel. A first aid kit lay open on top of an uneven table. Arch picked through it and pulled out a white tube.

     "Let me see yer wound," Arch said, unscrewing the cap. Zena unwrapped the cloth, revealing the darkened wound while Nathan paced around the small cabin, placing the odd item casually in his pockets.

     "Ah, she be a bit worse 'en I imagined," Arch said. "But nothin' t' worry 'bout." He hobbled over to a small kitchenette and ran some water in a bowl with a couple of squirts of soap. Nathan, meanwhile, made a quick movement to avoid being caught pocketing some gauze to replenish his own kit.

     "What's with your eyepatches?" Nathan asked.

     "Why I wear two? I'm blind in me one eye, and the other patch helps me sleep durin' the day."

     "If you're blind in one eye, can't you just move the patch over?" Nathan asked.

     "Nay, I may be legally blind, but enough light gets through to keep me awake," Arch said. "Besides, ye don't want t' see what lies under the patch. It's what nightmares are made of."

     "So, are you a pirate?" asked Nathan.

     "Do I derive from Krawk Island ye mean? Aye, but do I pillage other ships and bury their treasure? I gave up on that years ago. I'm a travelling merchant now. Lost most o' me accent, but put me back wif' me lads back home and ye wouldn't understand a word I said, I promise ye. Ye probably wouldn't wanna!" Archie chuckled.

     "You must have had a pirate name then," Zena said.

     "Aye, but ye can never trust a pirate who goes by their pirate name." Arch paused for a moment and looked to the ceiling in clear thought. "Or one who refuses to tell ye their pirate name, come t' think o' it."

     "Sounds to me like you shouldn't trust pirates period," Nathan muttered, taking a chair beside Zena.

     "Aye, that'd be true. Lucky for ye I gave that up years ago," the Chia laughed. "I used t' go by 'Captain Archie Plunder' 'cause I was good at findin' treasure, though often at a price."

     "You sure he didn't mean Captain Blunder?" Nathan spoke softly in Zena's ear. She shot him a stare and elbowed at him.

     "Don't be rude," she whispered, trying to avoid smiling. Arch took no notice as he opened a drawer, pulling out a small towel. He hobbled back to Zena, water sloshing over the sides of the bowl. "Here, let me wash yer wound first." He saw the hesitation in Zena's eyes. "Yar, tis a bit messy 'round here, but I assure ye this rag be clean." Arch chuckled to himself, sitting down on the last vacant chair next to Zena. Zena smiled and allowed him to wash her injured hand. She winced at the sharp pain and tried to think of something pleasant. She diverted her mind back to her brother, Hector. She wondered how he was making out with his Capriors at their new home by Sandpoint Cave.

     A bell outside began to chime, alerting the Chia to get to his feet. "Excuse me a moment," Arch said as he hobbled over to the wheel. The boat rocked back and forth as Zena and Nathan braced themselves in their chairs and Zena avoided grabbing anything with her injured hand. The rocking ceased a few moments later and Arch hobbled back to the table.

     "Sorry 'bout that. Almost forgot 'bout them falls where the river branches. Would 'ave been dangerous goin' down them rapids. Mind you, tis only the first drop that causes the most damage. Only happened t' me once. Managed to make them falls, but I don't recommend it none o'course." Arch gave an uncertain chuckle to himself. "Anyway, now where were we?"

     "Shouldn't someone stay at the wheel?" Zena asked. It didn't dawn on her before that the wheel was left unmanned.

     "We should be good t' Neopian Central now," Arch said. "'Cept fer a couple o' spots, but that's what Chum's fer."

     "I'm going to step out for a bit," Nathan said. "I need some fresh air." Zena nodded vigorously at Nathan. An extra pair of eyes on the river was more than appropriate, especially when relying on the competence of a bird.

     "Aye, ye do that. Fresh air be important t' ye. Got lots o' that 'round here!" Arch chuckled as Nathan exited the room. Arch went back to cleaning Zena's wound. Above the door was a wooden anchor with "Home Sweet Home" engraved in clumsy writing. Zena guessed the Weewoo wasn't the only one who spent most of their life on this boat

     "Is it just you and the bird on this boat?" Zena inquired.

     "The Weewoo? That'd be Chum. Aye, not very creative a name, but that's who he be. Doesn't speak none and usually sits there all day, but he's an excellent bell ringer. Lets people know when I'm coming. Lets me know too, ya know, in case I gets distracted," Arch said, chuckling. "Just like a chum should." Arch put the rag back into bowl and picked up the tube of ointment.

     "Have you had him long?" Zena asked.

     Arch laughed hard before answering. "Ye don't find Weewoos in t'wild, they finds ye! And that's how I met Chum. I been off the coast, just north o' Krawk Island and gots hit by a foul beast of a storm. Lightnin' was flashing, waves a mile high. T'was pitch black an' I couldn't see nothin' 'cept the wheel in front o' me. An average night on the sea back home, but I was strugglin' because me lantern smashed. Me horn stopped workin' years before and I had that there bell with a rope hangin' down t' let people know when I been approachin'. Then suddenly it started ringin' an' I turned 'round just as a flash o' lightnin' revealed jagged rocks comin' at me. I near hit 'em, but fortunately fer Chum I missed 'em. I could tell them rocks was fast approachin' and had to steer 'way. Managed t' do so in the nick o' time. I owe me life t' that there bird.

     "He loves it up there and ne'er comes down. Sometimes he follows when I head t' town, otherwise that's where he sits an' rings that bell when somethin' comes up. Mysterious birds, Weewoos are," Arch said.

     "Thar! She'd be good as new in no time!" Arch said as he finished wrapping a proper bandage around Zena's hand.

     "Feels much better already," Zena said. She meant it too. Whatever he used seemed to cut back on the pain.

     "Aye, like I said. An ol' recipe. Numbs the pain and heals you up proper in no time," Arch said, smiling proudly. "Now how 'bout a game of Armanda?"

     **********

     Nathan was waiting for an opportunity like this to sneak off. Who knew it would come so conveniently? Most days he would take any spare moment to read from Morguss Spell Book, but for now that could wait.

     He looked up at the Weewoo perched up on the jury-rigged crow's nest. It took no notice of him. What were the chances he would come across a Weewoo way out here; It was clearly meant to be.

     While visiting Malvus, Nathan spent much of his free time in the old wizard's shed reading and strengthening his magic. He also spent time trying to decipher the notes scribbled in the margins of Morguss' book. To his advantage, Malvus had granted him access to his library of textbooks that he used as teaching aids when he taught in Silver Hills. While skimming through one of the older textbooks, Nathan came across a word that he recognised from the notes in Morguss' book. Then a few more. From that he concluded that the chicken scratch in the margins was likely written in an ancient language.

     Like a challenging jigsaw puzzle, Nathan spent many hours picking away at the foreign scribble. A mild consequence of trying to solve the puzzle was that it often occupied his mind, even when he wasn't studying the book. To the rest of the world it may have looked like his head was in a fog, but not in his mind. And if it wasn't for the messy writing, he was certain he would have already solved the puzzle. And if he had discovered those textbooks sooner, maybe that mishap in Silver Hills would have been more under his control.

     There were a couple of spells that piqued his interest and he was close to completely deciphering the notes scribbled in the margin next to them. A main ingredient he needed for those spells, and one that was commonly used in many of Morguss' recipes, was Weewoo tail feathers.

     Nathan looked down the river. It ran in a straight line as far as he could see, and at the speed they were moving, there was lots of time before the Weewoo would chime the bell. How the boat could float down the river without veering to the side or floating into oncoming vessels boggled his mind, but why question the Captain. The process seemed to work. It must have had something to do with the river's currents.

     He looked back up at the Weewoo. He would have to make the move now. A rope hung down from the bell in the event that Arch had to ring it himself. Since there was no ladder to climb, he had to free-climb the mass being careful not to accidently pull at the rope.

     Nathan was never very athletic, but he was very good at getting things that were out of his reach. As the saying goes, "Where there's a will, there's a way". Today he was climbing a twenty-foot pole. Magic was not going to be an option. It would be too distracting and could harm the bird. Fortunately, he was a careful planner and by taking advantage of the empty crates around him, he cut the climbing distance in half by stacking the crates into steps. The last ten feet, however, he was going to have to climb freehand.

     He climbed up to the top crate. The Weewoo still didn't react to his slow advancement, giving off the perception it was sleeping. Nathan's intent wasn't to hurt the bird. He just needed a tail feather or two. If he mustered up the confidence, he could probably jump most of the way up, but doing so would certainly shake the mast and alert the Weewoo. Instead, he grabbed hold of the mast and started a slow ascent, trying just as hard to avoid catching his feet on the rope.

     His ability to climb didn't come as smoothly to him as he had hoped. Instead of pulling himself up with his arms and using his legs to prevent himself from sliding down, he did the reverse by grabbing a tight hold with his arms and hopping up with his legs. Advancement was slow, but steady. He just hoped no one was watching.

     Once he felt he was close enough to reach the Weewoo, he tightened the grip of his legs on the mast and reached his arms up. But before he managed to grab hold of some feathers, a gust of wind caught him by surprise, causing him to wobble and instinctively grab back at the mast to brace himself. Once his heart stopped racing, he looked back up to see the Weewoo staring down at him.

     "Uh, hi," Nathan said. The Weewoo didn't hesitate to begin banging its beak against the large, rusty bell. Nathan tried desperately to hush it, but when he looked back at the door to the wheelhouse, he slipped his hold and fell backwards onto the stack of empty crates. Laying amongst the broken-up crates, Nathan could hear the door open and Arch emerge.

     "What'cha doing there, Chum? There's no bend in this river fer miles yet," Arch shouted at the Weewoo. It looked back at him, then proceeded to watch the river. Arch turned towards Zena who also came out of the cabin. "False alarm, that ol' cod. Let's get back to the game. It's my turn and I see what yer tryin' t' do. Can't get one past ol' Arch!" Arch chuckled and returned back inside. Zena smiled, though she wasn't very familiar with the game and didn't know what he was talking about. She looked around quickly for Nathan and found him laying amongst a pile of beaten-up crates.

     "What're you doing?! Shouldn't you be watching the river?" Zena whispered harshly at Nathan.

     "Just looking around," Nathan made like he was searching around on the ground and came across a number of down and tail feathers that had more-than-likely fallen from the Weewoo. He refrained from actually picking anything up.

     "You're up to something!" She glared. "What is it?"

     "Nothing. Just checking out the crates, but they all seem to be empty. How's your hand?" He said, diverting the conversation. Zena looked down at her bandaged hand.

     "Not bad, actually. My head hurts more than my hand listening to his stories. I had to listen about his "Good Ol' Days" when he travelled the world for adventure and sport. Do you know he only has five toes on his feet?" Zena said, scrunching her face.

     "So," Nathan said not understanding what the problem was.

     "No. Five total!" Zena spelt out. Nathan winced. "Yeah, exactly. I lived through that."

     "Okay, I'll come in soon," Nathan said. Zena went back into the cabin while Nathan quickly picked up a few Weewoo feathers. He felt like smacking himself that he didn't think of checking around the deck first. He put everything in a container he swiped out of the cupboard from inside the wheelhouse and placed it in his backpack before joining Zena and Arch.

     After a few rounds of Armanda and conversations about days gone by, Nathan and Zena took to their bunks in the lower deck of the boat. A couple of hammocks made out of thin rope hung on the side of the small room, lined with heavy plaid sheets. They each took a hammock.

     "You know, Nathan. After my near-death experience earlier today, I never wanted to see another rope again. And now they infest this boat like a pit of snakes. Someone seems to be amused by my misfortune," Zena said.

     "Seems ironic, but if it wasn't for the rope we wouldn't be here on this boat right now. Perhaps we're a little more fortunate than we think," Nathan said. Zena hadn't thought of it that way, and whether Nathan meant it that way or not, there was a little bit of depth to that statement.

     "And do you know what else is ironic? This time last night we hung out with a wise old wizard. Today it's a washed-out old pirate," Nathan said with a chuckle.

     "So you admit Malvus is wise?" Zena laughed back.

     "Well, in comparison," Nathan mumbled, a bit annoyed Zena had called him out.

     "I like Arch, and he's been equally as accommodating as Malvus to a couple of strangers in need," Zena pointed out.

     "Maybe, but it's kinda limited on the snacks here, unless you enjoy salted fish and crackers," Nathan said, gagging. Zena laughed. She didn't enjoy the food much either.

     They slept well most of the night, except for the occasional interruption of the bell ringing followed by an abrupt shift of the boat. Fortunately, the boat didn't appear to hit any obstructions along the way and their swaying hammocks never hit the walls.

     **********

     Morning arose with a final ring of the bell. This time there was no abrupt turn, but a faint response of "Yar, I see her too, Chum!" Zena hopped out of her hammock and peered out of a nearby porthole to discover a community approaching from the distance.

     "Nathan, get up! I think we're here!" Zena nudged.

     "Yep. Thought as much," Nathan said, failing to move. Zena ignored his inability to emote and stepped outside.

     "Mornin'," the captain greeted her.

     "Good morning," she answered and looked up at the Weewoo. "Does he ever sleep?"

     "He will shortly. Rarely while we're moving. A very dedicated specimen." Zena smiled and understood why that would be the case.

     The river flowed into the heart of the community where hundreds of boats were parked. Unfortunately, they had to wait a while for a space to be available. Waiting seemed to take hours, but Zena knew she was just feeling impatient. She was excited and ready to start her new life.

To be continued…