The Wooden Prince (28 page)

The monster rose.

“Faster, Cinnabar!” Mezmer yowled.

Pinocchio began to bank the carpet as the yawning void of the monster's mouth reached higher. How was he going to get past those mountainous teeth? He forced his concentration from his father to evading that colossal maw. He had to get past. The Deep One had to let them pass.

At that moment, the Deep One seemed to slow, and to Pinocchio's surprise, it started sinking back down.

“What's it doing?” he heard Sop shout over the roar. “Did it miss us?”

“I don't think so,” a quivering Maestro said from Pinocchio's collar.

The Deep One's head descended toward the ocean, sending up towering waves in all directions.

“It's not swallowing us!” Maestro squeaked excitedly. “It's letting us go!”

“But why?” Pinocchio shouted.

“Princess Lazuli,” Maestro answered. “It must be because Prester John's daughter is here.”

“That—that can't be right—” Lazuli stammered. “Only Father commands the Deep One! Maybe he's still alive inside. Maybe he's commanding it to let us pass.”

Pinocchio felt a jolt of something desperate and dangerous and utterly foolish rise up in him. If Lazuli believed her father might be alive inside the Deep One, then there might be hope that Geppetto was also. Pinocchio could imagine how the enormous creature had swallowed some of the doge's ships whole. They might have survived.

In that moment, he thought of Wiq and what his friend had said about trusting his instincts, about listening to that voice deep inside that told him the right thing to do. Listening now, Pinocchio knew he had but one final chance to rescue his father. And he'd have to be quick.

Pinocchio dropped the carpet into a dive. He had to get in that mouth before it closed. His father was down there. He needed him.

The others shouted as the carpet rocketed nearly straight down.

“What are you doing?” Lazuli screamed.

“Saving them!” Pinocchio managed through gritted teeth.

The Deep One was submerging. The surface of the water rolled and boiled as the jaws began to close. With only seconds left, Pinocchio pitched forward, nearly flat against the carpet. Lazuli clung to his arm, screaming, but not nearly as loud as the earsplitting yowling of Sop.

The teeth were crashing together. Pinocchio wasn't sure they'd get through. Any moment, he expected to be crushed. He pushed the carpet faster, aiming for the gap between those massive fangs. The Deep One's mouth began to disappear beneath the swirling froth of the water.

“It's too late!” Lazuli screamed.

“No it's not! Everyone, hold your breath.” Pinocchio knew this was their only chance. If he didn't take it, his father would be lost to him forever.

He plunged the flying carpet straight into the sea, hitting the churning water with a dizzying impact that shot them down, arrowlike, through the gap in the teeth and into the black depths.

T
he water slowed them almost immediately. Pinocchio felt himself thrown sideways, and pulled this way and that by the currents. He clung with one hand to a corner of the carpet. With his other, he held Lazuli. He could only hope that the others had their claws deep in the carpet.

The swirls and surges swept them in a disorienting, chaotic tumble. Pinocchio had no idea how long it lasted, only that his breath was being crushed out of him. If he had still been an automa, he wouldn't have worried about needing air. But now he fought to keep from inhaling water and drowning. For a few moments, he was certain he had blacked out.

Soon he became aware of the current dragging them, a wave thrusting them…but where? Out, down, up? He wasn't sure. But then he broke the surface and was flung onto a slimy shore before the wave retreated.

He was certain that he was dead. There was utter darkness encompassing him. A blackness like Pinocchio had never imagined. A blackness as silent and hollow as Alberto's tomb. When he'd seen Geppetto's dead son, he'd had no idea what it meant to be dead. But now, this seemed to be it.

He lay flat on his back, panting for breath. Was he still breathing? If so, then he had to be alive. Someone started coughing beside him and then retching up a lungful of seawater. Whoever this was clearly wasn't dead either, although almost.

“Lazuli,” he gasped. “Is that you?”

“No, it's”—another lungful of water was coughed up—“me,” Sop said.

Pinocchio felt a weak grip take his arm. “I'm here,” Lazuli whispered. The luminescence from her blue eyes was the only dim light in all this darkness. “But where is here?”

Before he could answer, his heart suddenly exploded in panic. “Maestro! Where's Maestro?”

His strength reignited with guilt and terror that the poor cricket had been drowned. Then something tickled his neck.

“
Now
you think of Maestro,” a quiet, exhausted voice chirped. “Not
Maybe I shouldn't fly us headlong into the ocean without first making sure Maestro is safely inside a bottle or something
. No. It's only after you nearly drown me that you concern yourself with my well-being.”

Pinocchio could only laugh, half sobbing with relief, as the cricket came down onto his arm. “I'm so sorry, Maestro!”

“You should be,” he said. “You're lucky my wings weren't torn off. I'd never be able to play music again. What were you thinking? Why did you do that?”

But Pinocchio had no time to explain yet. “Where are the others?”

Lazuli's eyes cast dim light down the shore as she looked around.

Shore. Pinocchio pressed a hand to the ground. Parts were slippery and oozing. Beneath was a crusty surface. He hoped he was only touching algae-covered crustaceans. He pulled his hand back in disgust.

“And where are we?” Lazuli muttered.

“From an anatomical standpoint, I don't even want to hazard a guess,” Maestro said. “But generally speaking, we're somewhere in the belly of the beast. Thanks to Pinocchio.”

Their voices had a strange resonance. Not echoing, exactly, but definitely as if the sound was swirling around somewhere large and cavernous. It was oppressively warm. The air was thick with sour fumes. By any standards, being inside a sea monster was revolting.

But there was something fascinating about it as well. Despite his disgust, Pinocchio had to admit it was a bit amazing. They were alive inside the gut of the monster.

Sop gagged. He clearly didn't agree.

“You all right?” Pinocchio asked.

Sop was silent for a few seconds and then said, “Scratching post, ol' pal, if I weren't so exhausted right now, I'd claw your face off.”

“Glad to hear it,” Pinocchio said.

Down the shore, something urgent was happening. Mezmer's voice seemed pitched with panic.

“What's the matter?” Lazuli called, the glow of her eyes searching for the fox.

“Cinnabar,” Mezmer said. “Cinnabar! Can you hear me?”

Sop leaped to his feet and ran. Pinocchio felt frozen to his spot, as a horrible feeling of dread poured over him. Cinnabar! He'd completely forgotten about Cinnabar when he'd flown them into the ocean.

“He's alive,” Mezmer said when they reached her. “But he's unconscious. Maybe…Cinnabar!” she cried, obviously trying to revive the djinni.

“His elemental heat has been doused,” Lazuli said.

“What do we do?” Pinocchio asked, churning with guilt. He didn't much like Cinnabar, but he'd never wanted to harm him.

“Fire,” Mezmer said. “We have to get him in a fire.”

“How do we make a fire down here?” Lazuli asked.

A voice came from the dark, “You'll need wood.”

They all froze. Pinocchio knew that voice. If he never heard it again, it would still be too soon. He drew his sword in a flash and aimed it at the airman.

“Captain Toro,” he said. “How did you get here?”

Illuminated by Lazuli's eyes, Captain Toro had his hands raised, showing that he was unarmed. Maybe he had lost his musket. He certainly had lost his helmet. His hair lay in wet ribbons across his shadowy face, although even the dim light didn't mask his permanent scowl.

“Same as you.”

“Let's ask that a different way,” Sop said, brandishing his sword. “Why did you come down or in or…wherever we are here?”

“The same as you,” he replied. “To rescue my master.”

“You're insane,” Sop said. “Of course, since Pinocchio is the one who flew us in here, he's equally insane. Why do I have to be surrounded by crazy humans?”

Captain Toro stared at Pinocchio. “So you are Geppetto Gazza's automa? When I saw you fly past, I thought for a moment it was you, but then…you're not an automa anymore.”

“No, I'm not,” Pinocchio said, without lowering his sword.

“What do we do with him, Your Highness?” Sop said.

Lazuli came forward, and Captain Toro's surprised eyes grew even wider. “You! You're the blue fairy who…I…”

“Attempted to kill,” Lazuli said. “I'm afraid so. Now you should leave, Captain Toro.”

Captain Toro peered out into the darkness, worry wrinkling his face. “Where?”

“Anywhere but with us,” Sop said.

“I can help you,” Captain Toro said, looking pleadingly to Pinocchio.

“We don't need your help,” he said.

“You do,” Captain Toro said. “You need wood for the fire eater there. I've lost my musket, but look, I still have dry gunpowder.” He touched a canister on his belt. “Do you have another way to start a fire?”

Pinocchio glanced around at the others. He knew they didn't. Coming close to Lazuli, he whispered, “We're not befriending him. We're just calling a temporary truce until we can figure things out. Besides, the most important thing now is to help Cinnabar.”

“Pinocchio's right, Your Highness,” Mezmer said.

Lazuli gave a reluctant nod.

Pinocchio sheathed his sword. “Come on, Captain. You can help Lazuli and me look for wood.”

Mezmer rose. “Your Highness, if you're going, I should stay with you. I pledged my spear to protect you.”

“I'll take care of the princess, Mez,” Sop said. “I can see better than you in the dark.”

“Thank you, Mezmer, but Sop's right,” Lazuli said. “Watch over Cinnabar.”

The fox nodded and knelt next to the unconscious djinni.

Captain Toro lowered his hands and began to follow. “I don't have a weapon. Do you think there's anything to be concerned about out there?”

“Besides a squadron of airmen and the doge of Venice?” Sop said. “But I guess you don't have to worry about them.”

Captain Toro still peered around with concern.

“Afraid of the dark, Captain?” Lazuli said, leading the way.

“Of course not.” But the airman stayed at the back.

Walking was not easy over this slimy, uneven terrain. Lazuli's eyes cast only so much light. Pinocchio slipped several times and kept banging his shins against barnacle-covered debris.

“Fairy,” Captain Toro said. “Why do the others call you Your Highness?”

Maestro fluttered uneasily on Pinocchio's shoulder.

“I am Princess Lazuli of Abaton, daughter of His Immortal Lordship, Prester John.”

“Are you now?” Captain Toro said. “How did you get—”

“Enough questions, airman,” Sop said. “Keep looking for wood.”

They came across boards, clearly the broken wreckage from ships the Deep One had devoured. But the wood was so waterlogged, it was hopeless for burning.

“We need to locate the fleet,” Captain Toro said. “Any ships that survived should be floating, which will keep them dry. We can use wood from the bunks.”

Pinocchio looked into the cavernous black above him. “How are we supposed to find floating ships?”

“You could fly up there, Captain Toro,” Lazuli suggested.

The airman shook his head. “It's too dark. I wouldn't know what I was about to fly into.”

“Like into the Deep One's lower intestines,” Pinocchio said.

Sop made a noise like he was about to lose what remained in his own lower intestines. The poor cat really wasn't handling this very well.

“The crew would stabilize the ship to keep it from drifting,” Captain Toro said. “We just need to find where they've dropped an anchor.”

“Why didn't you say so?” Sop said. “We just passed one.”

“Where?”

“Back here,” Sop said, leading them back. “At least I thought it was back here. I almost tripped on—” He fell over.

Captain Toro ran toward him. Sop reached for the airman's hand for help up, but Captain Toro grabbed the anchor instead. “Fairy, bring your eyes closer.”

The blue light of Lazuli's gaze illuminated a chain rising up in the dark.

“Hello!” Captain Toro called. “Anyone up there?”

Nothing answered, except for a faint scuttling in the dark. Toro grabbed the chain and tugged. The chain gave a few feet. “Help me pull,” he said.