Minerva's Voyage by Lynne Kositsky

the woods, I wanted a stake in any wickedness that might occur. My heart beat faster, my brain urged it, though I tried hard not to admit my interest even to myself. And I shouldn’t even mention wickedness to Fence, I realized, who was still young, and straight and clean as an arrow. Or at least, so I liked to think. I said no more on the subject.
    After eating a snail-like creature or two, which slunk down my gullet and comforted my belly, I commenced looking for the emblem path with Fence, who wouldn’t leave off nagging. We searched the rest of the day in the woods, our legs sorely prickled by thorns and sharp grass. The wind was still. The sun slanted through the trees and spider webs, its brilliant yellow slats spearing the ground at intervals as if to guide us. The tide finished coming in, and started going out. But we found nothing. Mayhap the path was overgrown. Or mayhap it had never been there in the first place. It was a bafflement.

C HAPTER 19

S TORM S IGHTING
    The ocean was beginning to roar. Rain spat and then, with little warning, poured from clouds. Lightning rent the welkin as ants ran for cover and we ran for home. Just before we reached the settlement we caught sight of three shadowy forms half hidden by a large rock. They stood very close to each other, close enough to be telling a secret.
    â€œIs that Admiral Winters?” I asked, sodden from head to foot.
    â€œLooks to be him. And Proule. Who’s the other?”
    Jagged lightning lit the three figures, followed by an earsplitting stroke of thunder. “Why, Fence, good fellow, don’t you see?” I blinked hard, trying to clear my eyes of rain. “A ragged red skirt, hair longer than the admiral’s. There stands Mary Finney, bold as brass. That witch gets into everything.”
    â€œAt least there’s three of them so they can’t be a-lying down together,” Fence said seriously, wiping his face.
    â€œTrue it is.” I laughed, but wondered what Mary wanted with Winters and Proule. No answer occurred to me, unless she was eager to tittle-tattle about a fourth person, perhaps Scratcher. Or me. At that moment she passed us by, hurrying back to the cabins, her hair plastered to her head and neck. The two men had disappeared.
    â€œWhat you looking at, stupid?” she asked.
    â€œNot you, Mary, Mary Fish-Finney. Not you.”
    â€œYou just remember that, toad spawn. You ain’t seen no one.” She had been with Proule, that vicious beast, and Winters, the real power of the settlement in spite of that title going to Boors, so she was confident. Whatever she’d been doing with them, she was safe. Fence and I waited for a moment before following the same trail back.
    I finally reached Scratcher’s and shoved several baked eggs, leftover from lunch, down my throat. I peeled and ate so fast that one got stuck, and I had to choke it back up. Afterwards I slid into my habitual corner, still too drenched and chilled to sleep. Mary, Winters, Proule, I whispered to myself over and over again as I tried to rub myself warm. Fish Fin, Winter Nights, Cat Pee. And occasionally, as I finally began to nod off, xxyyx, yyxxy. Scratcher, Heaven be praised, was in a drunken stupor, crying and mumbling about his lost chest and his lost treasure. If he only knew….

C HAPTER 20

T HEY’RE G ONE!
    There was much alarmed talk. The admiral had disappeared several days before. So had Proule. So had Salt-fish Mary, though no one took much notice of that. Others were missing from the settlement too, including the men I’d seen in the spinney speaking to Proule. And though I’d searched everywhere, I couldn’t find Peter Fence. That was most alarming of all. He had melted into thin air. I knew he wouldn’t leave me, not willingly anyhow. I was all he had in the way of comfort in the world. He must have been forcibly taken. Or worse, drowned.
    Boors was more demented than usual. With Fence