The Search for the Red Dragon - James A. Owen [53]
“She may be float-worthy,” said Bert, “but remember: She was rebuilt as an airship. She’s not equipped to move about in the water anymore—not that freely, anyway.”
“Those are our options, then,” said John. “We try to repair her enough to get outside of the volcanic cone…”
“Or we get steamed to death,” put in Jack.
“Or someone might come looking for us,” said Charles, hoping to elicit a hopeful smile or two. But no one offered one. As the steam continued to swirl about the ship, the companions moved to separate areas of the deck and set about making whatever repairs they could.
They worked throughout the remainder of that day, and then long into the night. After assessing all the damage, a quick vote focused them on repairing the balloon itself as the most viable means to leave the Chamenos Liber. As Bert gently reminded the others, the only course they could follow after that was to somehow get back to London to retrieve the Imaginarium Geographica, and then return to open the portal to the Underneath.
What was unspoken but clearly on the minds of them all was just how difficult that would prove to be.
The only ones who knew where they had gone were Artus and Tummeler. And it would be several more days at minimum before either of them would begin to worry that something was amiss—and even then, what could they do?
All the ships in the Archipelago had been burned. There would be no way for any rescuers to reach the Indigo Dragon, or for the Indigo Dragon to reach safe haven, in less than a month at best. It was possible the dragons could help transport them across the Frontier and back—but again, at present, the Indigo Dragon was all but marooned, and her crew and passengers were being slowly steamed to death.
And all the while, precious hours were passing. Passing, while the children remained missing and an unknown adversary wreaked havoc with history.
Aven was supervising the repair of the balloon. The fauns were remarkably versatile and had plundered the blankets in the cabin below to use for stitching material. The work was slow going, but Bert cautioned that despite their urgency, it was better to ensure that it was done right the first time—or else they might find themselves in hotter water later on.
“Very funny,” said Aven.
“Pun intended,” said Bert. “If I can’t joke about imminent death, then I might as well just resign.”
“Resign from what?” asked Jack.
“Depends on the day,” said Bert. “Aven, I wanted to ask—when the Cartographer translated the name of the islands as ‘Lost Boys,’ you reacted very noticeably. Why is that? What does that phrase mean to you?”
The fact that Aven didn’t immediately reply was an indication of just how deeply she felt about the question. Finally she handed her tools to one of the fauns and stood against the cabin wall, her arms folded.
“Obviously it’s also a reference to Jamie and Peter’s Lost Boys,” she explained. “It was the name that all the children who came to Peter’s secret hideaway went by—but he wasn’t the one who started using it. It began long before Peter’s time. And I also didn’t know it referred to a place—especially one that guards the Underneath.”
“But why would that bother you?” asked Jack. “We’ve mentioned the Lost Boys several times, and you never blinked.”
“It wasn’t just mentioning them,” Aven said. “I just suddenly realized that I might have actually been to the Underneath before. I think it’s what Peter and Jamie called ‘the Nether Land,’ and I know another way to get there.”
Jack started. “You mean a way other than the portal? That’s wonderful!”
Aven shook her head. “There is a way, back in your world. But it won’t do us any good.
“It…was meant to be a secret,” she continued, with a hesitant glance at her father. “It’s how Jamie was able to go back and forth to the Archipelago without using the Dragonships.”
“Ah,” said Bert. “I’ve often wondered about that. It was one of Jamie’s great secrets,” he told Jack. “He refused to work on any maps or annotations