“All right, but remember, no one ever gets something for nothing,” I said, but I said it into my whiskers. I was afraid that if Alake heard me, she’d scratch my eyes out.
As it was, I think Haplo did hear me. He has sharp ears, that one. I was glad. Let him know that one of us isn’t planning to swallow this without chewing on it first. He glanced at me and kind of half-smiled in that dark way of his that gives me the shivers.
When he finished eating, he said we were free to leave. We could take all the food and presents with us. At this, I saw even Alake was offended.
“No amount of gold or precious jewels can bring back the people those monsters murdered, or make up for what we have suffered,” she said, casting a disdainful glance at the mounds of riches and wealth.
“I would sooner toss such blood money in the Goodsea, except it might poison the fish,” Devon said angrily.
“Suit yourselves.” Haplo shrugged again. “But you might need it, when you sail to your new homeland.”
We looked at each other. We’d been so frightened and worried about the dragon-snakes, we’d completely forgotten about another danger that loomed over our people—the loss of the seasun.
“Will the dragon-snakes let us build more sun-chasers?” I asked dubiously.
“Better than that. They’ve offered to use their magic to fix the ones they destroyed. And they’ve given me information about this new homeland, important information.”
We badgered him with questions, but Haplo refused to answer, saying that it would not be proper to tell us before discussing a matter of this importance with our parents. We were forced to admit he was right.
Alake looked at the gold, said it was a shame it should go to waste. Devon remarked that several bolts of the silken fabric were Sabia’s favorite colors. I’d already pocketed some of the jewels (as I wrote earlier, we dwarves are a practical lot), but I gladly took a few more, just so the others wouldn’t think I was being snooty.
We loaded ourselves, the presents, and the food on board the submersible. I checked the ship over thoroughly. Admittedly, the dragon-snakes were strong on magic, but I mistrusted that they knew anything about shipbuilding. However, the snakes appeared to have put it back together exactly the way it was before they broke it and I decided it was safe to sink in.
We each took up residence in our old rooms. Everything was as it had been when we left. I even found this—my journal, exactly where I left it. No water damage. Not a drop of ink smeared. Astounding! It made me kind of queasy. I wondered, more than once on that journey, if it had all really happened or if it had only been a strange and terrible dream.
The ship launched itself, under the same magical power as before, and we were headed back home.
I’m certain the journey took the same amount of time going as coming, but it seemed far longer to us. We laughed and talked excitedly about the first things we’d do when we reached our homelands and how we’d probably be considered heroes and what everyone would make of Haplo.
We spent a lot of time talking about Haplo. At least Alake and I did. She came into my cabin quite late the first night of our trip back home. It was that quiet period just before you go to bed when the aching for home comes over you so badly sometimes that it makes you think you’ll die of it. I was feeling the same way myself, and I must admit that maybe a tear or two had trickled into my whiskers when I heard Alake’s gentle tap on my door.
“It’s me, Grundle. Can I talk to you? Or are you sleeping?” “If I was, I’m not now,” I told her grumpily, to hide the fact that I’d been crying. For all I knew, she’d dose me with herbs or something.
I opened the door. Alake came in and sat on the bed. I took one look at her—she was shy and proud and fluttery and happy—and I knew what this conversation was going to be about.