Zeb Bolt and the Ember Scroll by Abi Elphinstone

Author:Abi Elphinstone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin
Published: 2021-08-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

There wasn’t time for Mrs. Fickletint to shower Zeb with kisses, because suddenly the boat began to drop down toward the sea. The crew rushed to the porthole in the kitchen and looked out just as the Kerfuffle splashed down onto the water and its wings slid back into the slats of wood as if they’d never been there.

Zeb gulped. The water here was black, like oil. And drifting on the surface, lifeless, was a shoal of butterflies the size of dinner plates.

“Butterflips,” Mrs. Fickletint gasped. “Underwater butterflies are said to live in the most remote parts of the ocean. Even they have been killed by Morg’s dark magic!”

“There’s sunchatter in these parts,” Oonie murmured. “Lots of it. But it’s not singing I can hear—it’s sobbing. Which means the whole lot is cursed.” She bit her lip. “The Bother-Ahead Beacons, what color are they?”

“Yellow,” Zeb replied firmly.

Mrs. Fickletint nodded. “If there were Midnights in these parts, they’ve gone now.”

“But what if it was Morg who was here?” Zeb cried. “What if the Final Curtain is close by and she’s already found the Ember Scroll?”

Oonie shook her head. “We’d know if she had the scroll because it’s said the Unmapped skies will shake with fear and the sun will hide if she finds it.”

Mrs. Fickletint grimaced at the sea. “This will be her Midnights patrolling the ocean looking for us and the Stargold Wings.…” She glanced at the Bother-Ahead Beacons again. “For now, though, we’re safe.”

The Kerfuffle eased on through the dark water, and Zeb caught a glimpse of a lifeless squid covered in hearts, which Oonie explained must once have been a squidge—a rare breed of squid fond of hugs. Zeb shivered. Morg’s dark magic was everywhere.… Then the crew felt the unmistakable sensation of sand slide up beneath the hull, and the Kerfuffle ground to a halt.

Mrs. Fickletint scampered up the stairs and pushed the trapdoor open a fraction. “It’s a large island,” she whispered. “And even though the water around it is pitch-black, the island itself seems to be untouched by Morg’s dark magic! Beyond the bay there’s a sandy beach, a wild-looking jungle, and”—she frowned—“a rock goblin asleep in a hammock.…”

“Rock goblin?” Zeb braced himself. “Should we take the cannon?”

Oonie shook her head. “The rock goblins are on our side. They run the Cheeky Urchin back home on Wildhorn—a food and drink shack specializing in exotic fruit juices that make your bottom wiggle.”

“What a goblin is doing all the way out here beats me,” Mrs. Fickletint said, shaking her head.

Oonie took a deep breath. “Let’s go and investigate, because if the Kerfuffle has come to a stop, there must be a reason for it.”

The crew inched out of the trapdoor, tiptoed across the deck, then Zeb and Mrs. Fickletint peered over the prow of the boat. A cluster of small creatures were sobbing in the shallows. Some were pale blue with pointed ears, others gold with wings.

Zeb eyed them. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just grab

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