Abarat. Clive Barker

do you think we are? Tell him, Candy.”

      “They’ve all been very kind to me,” Candy confirmed. “Nobody’s laid a finger on me.”

      The Johns were not convinced. They were all exchanging fiercely suspicious glances.

      “If it was a joke,” John Drowze said fiercely, “then it was an extremely asinine joke.”

      “I would have drowned without their help,” Candy said, attempting to cool the situation down. “I swear. I was starting to panic.”

      “But you’re right,” Pux said. “It was an imbecilic stupid joke. So, please, in the name of peace let us carry you both to the Abarat. The Izabella can be rough, and we would not wish to see two such significant personages drown.”

      “You would carry us?” said John Mischief, smiling his unruly smile. “Truly?”

      “Truly,” said Tropella. “It’s the least we can do.”

      It certainly sounded like a good idea to Candy. Despite the fact that she’d done as John Mischief had suggested, and relied on Mama Izabella to bear her up, she was still extremely tired. The icy water and the pummeling of the waves—not to mention the pursuits that had preceded this aquatic adventure—had taken their toll.

      “What do you think?” Candy said to the Johns. “Should we accept the ride?”

      “I think it’s up to you,” Mischief said.

      “Good,” Candy said. “Then I say yes.”

      “Yes?” Pux said to Mischief.

      “If the lady says yes, then yes it is,” Mischief replied.

      “Splendid,” said the fourth card player. “I’m Kocono, by the way. And I just want to say what a delight it is to meet Mr. Mischief. Tropella was right, we don’t care about the law of the land. So they say you’re a criminal, so what? You’re a master. That’s what counts.”

      The Johns erupted into a chaotic din of denials and explanations at Kocono’s little speech. Candy only caught fragments of their defenses in the uproar, but they sounded distinctly contradictory. She was very amused.

      “Is it true?” she said, laughing, as the protestations grew wilder. “Are you all master criminals?”

      “Put it this way …” John Slop began.

      “Be careful now,” John Moot warned his brother.

      “We’re not saints.”

      “So it is true,” Candy replied.

      Mischief nodded. “It’s true,” he conceded. “You’re in the company of eight world-class thieves,” he said, not without a little touch of pride. “Saints we are not.”

      “But then,” said Deaux-Deaux, “who is?” He thought on this. “Besides saints.”

      With this matter settled, Candy and Mischief were each lifted up between two of the Sea-Skippers, their legs propped up on the creature skipping ahead of them, and supported by those skipping behind. If it wasn’t the most comfortable way to travel, it was certainly preferable to being immersed in the cold water, in fear of drowning or being nibbled at by Great Green Mantizacs.

      “Which island are you going to?” Pux asked Candy.

      “I don’t know,” she replied. “This is my first visit.”

      The Sea-Skippers looked at the Johns for an answer.

      It was John Drowze who replied. “I say we go to the Yebba Dim Day, in the Straits of Dusk.”

      There was a general consensus from the brothers.

      “The Yebba Dim Day it is,” Kocono announced.

      “Wait,” Candy said. “Don’t forget your table.”

      “Oh, Mizza will find her own way home,” Kocono said. “Mizza!”

      A head with large, rather woebegone features—and a square cranium almost as flat as the shell on which the Sea-Skippers’ cards and liquor glass still stood—appeared from the water.

      “You want me to wait for you at Tazmagor?” the creature said.

      “Yes, please,” said Kocono.

      “It was nice playing on you,” Deaux-Deaux said. “As always.”

      “Oh, think nothing of it,” the Card Table replied, and paddled off through the swell.

      Candy shook her head. For some reason, out of the back of her skull came the memory of her beloved uncle Fred, her mother’s elder brother, who’d worked in a zoo in Chicago, cleaning up after the animals. Once, he’d been taking her around the place, pointing out his favorite animals, who were all oddities. The two-toed sloths, the anteaters, the mules.

      “If you ever doubted that God had a sense of humor, all you’d have to do is look at some of these guys,” he’d remarked.

      Candy smiled to herself, picturing Uncle Fred’s round, bald face as he looked fondly down at her. No doubt the sight of Mizza the Floating Card Table would have had him laughing until the tears trickled down his face.

      “What are you smiling at, lady?” Mischief asked Candy.

      But before she had a chance to explain, the Sea-Skippers took off at a breath-snatching speed, and they were on their way to the Yebba Dim Day.