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Beside Marcia, her three seasick guards lay slumped in pathetically groaning heaps, wishing that they too had learned to swim. At least they would have been thrown overboard by now.
Far above Marcia, in the full force of the Storm he had created, DomDaniel was sitting bolt upright on his ebony throne, while his miserable Apprentice shivered beside him. The boy was meant to be helping his Master to prepare his final lightning Strike, but he was so seasick that all he could do was stare glassily ahead and give the occasional moan.
“Quiet, boy!” snapped DomDaniel, trying to concentrate on gathering the electrical forces together for the most powerful Strike he had ever done. Soon, thought DomDaniel triumphantly, not only would that interfering witch’s nasty little cottage be gone but the whole island too, evaporated in a blinding flash. DomDaniel fingered the ExtraOrdinary Wizard Amulet, which was now back in its rightful place. It was back around his neck, not the scrawny neck of some half-baked stick insect woman Wizard.
DomDaniel laughed. It was all so easy.
“Ship ahoy, sire,” a faint voice called down from the crow’s nest. “Ship ahoy!”
DomDaniel cursed.
“Don’t interrupt!” he shrieked above the howl of the wind and Caused the sailor to fall with a scream into the seething waters below.
But DomDaniel’s concentration had been broken. And, as he tried to regain control of the elements for the final Strike, something caught his eye.
A small golden glow was coming out of the dark toward his ship. DomDaniel fumbled for his eyeglass and, raising it to his eye, could hardly believe what he saw.
It was impossible, he told himself, absolutely impossible. The Dragon Boat of Hotep-Ra did not exist. It was nothing more than a legend. DomDaniel blinked the rain out of his eyes and looked again. The wretched boat was heading straight for him. The green glint of the dragon’s eyes shot through the dark and met his one-eyed gaze through the eyeglass. A cold shiver ran through the Necromancer. This, he decided, was the doing of Marcia Overstrand. A Projection of her fevered brain as she schemed against him, deep within his own ship. Had she learned nothing?
DomDaniel turned to his Magogs.
“Dispatch the prisoner,” he snapped. “Now!”
The Magogs flicked their dirty yellow claws open and closed, and a thin sheen of slime appeared over their blind-worm heads, as it always did in moments of excitement. They hissed a question to their Master.
“Anyway you like,” he replied. “I don’t care. Do whatever you want, but just do it. Fast!”
The ghastly pair slithered off, dripping slime as they went, and disappeared belowdecks. They were pleased to get out of the storm, excited by the fun they had in store.
DomDaniel put away his eyeglass. He no longer needed it, for the Dragon Boat was quite near enough for him to easily see. He tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for what he took to be Marcia’s Projection to disappear. However, to DomDaniel’s dismay, it did not disappear. The Dragon Boat drew ever closer and appeared to be fixing him with a particularly nasty stare.
Edgily, the Necromancer started pacing the deck, oblivious to the squall of rain that suddenly poured down on him, and deaf to the noisy flapping of the last few remaining shreds of the sails. There was only one sound that DomDaniel wanted to hear, and that was the sound of Marcia Overstrand’s last scream far below in the hold.
He listened intently. If there was one thing DomDaniel enjoyed, it was hearing the last scream of a human being. Any human being was good, but the last scream of the ex–ExtraOrdinary Wizard was particularly good. He rubbed his hands together, closed his eyes and waited.
Down in the depths of the Vengeance the Dragon Ring of Hotep-Ra was glowing brightly on Marcia’s little finger, and her Magyk had returned enough for her to slip out of her chains. She had stolen away from her comatose guards and was climbing up the ladder out of the hold. As she stepped from the ladder and was about to make her way to the next one, she almost slipped on some yellow slime. Out of the gloom came the Magogs, straight for her, hissing with delight. They edged her into a corner, all the while clattering their excited pointy rows of yellow teeth at her. With a loud snap, they unsheathed their claws and advanced upon Marcia with glee, their little snake’s tongues flicking in and out of their mouths.
Now, thought Marcia, was the time to discover if her Magyk really was returning.
“Congeal and Dry. Solidify!” Marcia muttered, pointing the finger bearing the Dragon Ring at the Magogs.
Like two slugs covered with salt, the Magogs suddenly collapsed and shrank with a hiss. A very nasty crackling sound followed as their slime solidified and dried to a thick yellow crust. In a few moments all that was left of the Things were two withered black and yellow lumps lying at Marcia’s feet, stuck fast to the deck. She stepped over them disdainfully, careful of her shoes, and continued her journey up to the top deck.
Marcia wanted her Amulet back, and she was going to get it.
Up on deck DomDaniel had lost patience with his Magogs. He cursed himself for thinking they would get rid of Marcia quickly. He should have realized. Magogs liked to take their time with their victims, and time was something DomDaniel did not have. He had Marcia’s wretched Projection of the Dragon Boat looming toward him, and it was affecting his Magyk.
And so, as Marcia was about to climb the ladder that led up onto the deck, she heard a loud bellow from above, “A hundred crowns!” bawled DomDaniel. “No, a thousand crowns. A thousand crowns to the man who rids me of Marcia Overstrand! Now!”
Above her Marcia heard the sudden stampede of bare feet as all the sailors on deck made for the hatchway and ladder on which she was standing. Marcia leaped off and hid as best she could in the shadows, as the entire ship’s crew pushed and fought their way down in an effort to be the first to reach the prisoner and claim the prize. From the shadows she watched them go, kicking, fighting and shoving one another out of the way. Then, as the melee disappeared down to the lower decks, she gathered her damp robes around her and climbed the ladder onto the open deck.
The cold wind took her breath away, but after the foul mugginess of the ship’s hold, the fresh stormy air smelled wonderful. Quickly, Marcia hid behind a barrel and waited, considering her next move.
Marcia watched DomDaniel closely. He looked, she was pleased to see, sick. His normally gray features now had a bright green tinge to them, and his bulgy black eyes were staring up at something behind her. Marcia swung around to see what could possibly be turning DomDaniel so green.
It was the Dragon Boat of Hotep-Ra.
High above the Vengeance, with her green eyes flashing and lighting up DomDaniel’s pallid face, the Dragon Boat was flying through the howling wind and the pouring rain. Her huge wings beat slowly and powerfully against the storm, lifting the golden boat and her three petrified crew into the night air, flying them toward Marcia Overstrand, who could not believe what she was seeing.
No one on the Dragon Boat could believe it either. When the Dragon had started to beat her wings against the wind and slowly lift herself out of the water, Nicko had been horrified; if there was one thing Nicko was sure about, it was that boats did not fly. Ever.
“Stoppit!” Nicko yelled in Boy 412’s ear above the creaking of the huge wings, which swept slowly past them, sending leathery gusts of air into their faces. But Boy 412 was excited. He hung on tightly to the tiller, trusting the Dragon Boat to do what she did best.
“Stop what?” Boy 412 yelled back, gazing up at the wings, his eyes glowing and a broad grin on his face.
“It’s you!” yelled Nicko. “I know it is. You’re making her fly. Stop. Stop it now! She’s out of control!”
Boy 412 shook his head. It was nothing to do with him. It was the Dragon Boat. She had decided to fly.
Jenna was holding on to the dragon’s ears with a grip so tight her fingers were white. Far below she could see the waves crashing against the Vengeance, and as the Dragon Boat dipped toward the deck of the Darke ship, Jenna could also see the ghastly green face of DomDaniel staring up at her. Jenna quickly looked away from the Necromancer—his malevolent gaze made her feel chilled to the core and gave her a horrible feeling of despair. She shook her head to get rid of the Darke feeling, but a doubt stayed in her mind. How were they going to find Marcia? She glanced back at Boy 412. He had let go of the tiller and was looking over the side of the Dragon Boat, down toward the Vengeance. Then, as the Dragon Boat dipped and her shadow fell across the Necromancer below, Jenna suddenly knew what Boy 412 was doing. He was getting ready to jump ship. Boy 412 was steeling himself to go aboard the Vengeance and get Marcia.
