The Elfin Ship by James P. Blaylock Page A

they hung once more on the mast. Jonathan swore he’d seen a cauldron and the Professor agreed. Dooly was too baffled even to know he was baffled until the Professor told him it was all an illusion.
    ‘Enchantment!’ cried Dooly, familiar with goblin trickery due to the tales of his old grandpa.
    The Professor explained that that was exactly the case. Coming out of the cabin door, Jonathan stated that the case was that the goblins had drank half the rum and ruined the rest. Sure enough, floating in the half-drained rum barrel were another dozen or so partially consumed fish. There was nothing to be done but dump the stuff overboard, keg and all.
    This was a disappointment to say the least, because both Jonathan and the Professor had been keen on the idea of a mug or so of hot buttered rum. But they’d see precious little of it, at least for awhile.
    So the pickles were gone and the rum ruined, and all the remaining loaves of bread had their centers eaten out and looked more like hats or helmets than bread. The Professor said that
he,
at least, didn’t too much rue the loss of the rum which was pretty clearly responsible for the goblins having been in such a state. Sober goblins, it seemed certain, would have been a bit more dangerous. Everyone agreed that they had gotten off easily, all things considered. Just then Jonathan remembered the port that Mayor Bastable had laid in, and he went off to fetch a bottle and three glasses.
    It seemed that the moon no sooner sank behind the Elfin Highlands than the sun came peering up over the White Mountains and it was morning. As the Professor had predicted, they had gotten little sleep that night; but they
had
gotten their raft back and could feel a hint of honest pride in having set to flight a party of marauding goblins.

7
Magicians and Axolotls
    The river carried them along toward the sea, and for three days they did little else but eat, sleep, and throw out an occasional fishing line.
    Professor Wurzle found that his arms and chest had been scratched fairly thoroughly during his tussle with the goblins, and the long red scrapes insisted upon becoming infected, swelling to nasty-looking welts. The Professor hobbled along gritting his teeth each time he moved, but demanded to be allowed to take his turn at watch with the others.
    They were miles from Willowood Station when it became clear that something had to be done for the Professor. He had, finally, taken to bed, and food and water were brought to him. He was so thoroughly sore that he even ached, he explained, when just blinking his eyes.
    ‘I’m afraid, Jonathan,’ he said that afternoon when they were but a few short miles above Willowood, ‘that I’ll need more than rest to make a recovery from these scratches. The goblin must have had some filthy substance on his hands.’
    ‘Ah, yes,’ agreed Jonathan, who was at a bit of a loss. The only disinfectant on board was a sort of salve that smelled of eucalyptus and didn’t prove to be of much benefit. ‘Between Stooton-on-River and the sea there’s not even an outpost. What with Willowood gone and Stooton, according to old Gosset, gone too, I’m not sure where to find any medicines. I’ve been thinking, though, that whoever looted Willowood no doubt made off with valuables, but probably not with medicines. There might still be a few lying about the old apothecary. What thief would steal medicines?’
    ‘What thief indeed?’ asked the Professor. ‘But I don’t believe that it will matter much anyway in this case. When do we pass Willowood Wharf?’
    ‘In about an hour.’
    ‘Then put in, boy, put in. Have you any knowledge of herb lore?’
    ‘Only in making tea.’
    ‘Then I’ll have to explain a bit. Fetch up that pen and paper and write this down. I’ll need arrowroot first off and the flowers of oxalis, about a handful, and a good deal of spearmint. Can you find such?’
    ‘So far, so good, Professor.’
    ‘Then,’ the Professor continued,