Drowned Ammet by Jones Diana Wynne

Author:Jones, Diana Wynne [Jones, Diana Wynne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Young Adult, Childrens, Adventure, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780008170653
Amazon: 0008170657
Goodreads: 30988340
Publisher: Harper Collins Childrens Books
Published: 1977-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

MITT LOOKED FROM Hildy to Ynen. He saw the likeness now. His huge meal had left him slow and almost unbearably sleepy. His first thought was that it was funny. Hadd ruined him. Navis spoiled all his plans. And now these were Navis’s children who were willy-nilly rescuing him. He chuckled. “Now that’s what I call justice,” he said. “Navis is your pa then?”

Hildy stuck her chin up and did her best to overawe Mitt. “Yes,” she said haughtily. “And I’ll have you know that I am betrothed to Lithar, Lord of the Holy Islands.”

“Oh, shut up,” Ynen said uncomfortably. “You sound just like the cousins.”

Hildy had been imitating her cousin Irana boasting of her betrothal. She was annoyed with Ynen for noticing. She turned her back on him and looked hopefully at Mitt, hoping she had upset him by it at least.

Mitt laughed. “Betrothed!” People got betrothed at Lydda’s age, when they were eighteen and grown-up. Hildy was only a little girl in pigtails. “Bit young for that, aren’t you?” Then the implications struck him. He was quite as alarmed as Hildy could have hoped, but he kept on laughing. He dared not let them see he was upset. This girl was important, all right. He remembered Milda telling him about Lithar. That made certain that ships would pursue them from Holand, and more ships would be out to meet them from the Holy Islands. Mitt knew he was going to have to make them take this boat right out into the ocean. It was going to take days, and even then he might be caught. Just to think of it made him feel tired. “Well, it’s your business,” he said. “Doesn’t worry me.” He stood up. “I’m off for a visit to that silly bucket in the cupboard. The one with roses on. No tricks while I’m gone now.”

Ynen’s face was pink in the yellow light. “They aren’t roses. They’re poppies,” he said.

“Roses,” said Mitt. “And with a golden rim too. Amazing the way your kind has to have things pretty!” He went into the cabin.

Ynen shouted after him, “Your kind built this boat!” Then, as soon as Mitt was at the end of the cabin, he whispered to Hildy, “What are we going to do?”

Now that Mitt had laughed at Hildy for being betrothed, she was determined to get the better of him. “I’ve got an idea,” she whispered, “to make him go to sleep.”

“Then we’ll turn round,” Ynen agreed. “What idea?”

“What are you whispering about?” Mitt yelled.

They dared not whisper any more. Ynen looked at the long splintered groove in Wind’s Road’s planking and shivered. It was getting hard to see now. The sun had swum down below the horizon, leaving a yellow sky spread with straight black clouds. The sea was a melting, lighter yellow, as if the light had soaked into it. Hildy’s face was dark. “We’re saying we ought to have a light at the masthead,” he called. “It’s the law.”

“Haven’t you noticed?” Mitt bawled.

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