Sargasso Skies Read Free Page A

perfectly white fur. They seemed especially fascinated by Jack’s rebec, and many of them stared at it or touched it with cautious fingertips.
    â€œAlbinos,” murmured Jack. “Well, I never! A whole tribe of albino animals.”
    â€œHello there,” Esmeralda said brightly. “You fellows just saved our lives with your singing. Thanks very much!”
    The crowd of animals whispered among themselves, shifting and rustling restlessly, as though ill at ease.
    Pleased as he was that these pale animals had come to their rescue, Trundle couldn’t help but find them a little bit creepy.
    â€œYou sing very well,” Jack said in a friendly voice. “I’m a musician myself, you know.” He bowed low. “Jack Nimble, travelling troubadour at your service.” He gestured to the others. “And this is Princess Esmeralda of the Roamany folk, along with Trundle Boldoak, a great hero.” He smiled his widest smile. “And might I have your names, my good and worthy friends?” He looked from one to another. “Do you have names at all? Anyone?”
    â€œApparently not,” murmured Esmeralda under her breath. “Do you think they even understand what we’re saying to them?”
    Suddenly, all the white animals turned to face the cliff at the end of the valley.
    â€œHello,” breathed Jack. “Who’s this now?”
    A solitary figure stood atop the cliff, white against the brooding sky. Very tall and imposing he looked, with a mass of white hair and a great billowing white cloak drawn up to his face so that only the piercing red eyes were visible over it.
    He held a long white stick in one hand, and he pounded it three times on the ground. The albinos gazed up at him with silent, reverential faces.
    A deep, booming voice rolled down the hillside. “Ahhh! More able-bodied souls with the Great Endeavor to help!” The lordly shape turned and strode away. “Bring them!” he called.
    A white rabbit turned to the three friends. “You must come with us,” the creature whispered.
    â€œUm . . . we’re jolly grateful for the rescue and everything,” Esmeralda began. “But unless you tell us exactly who you are and what’s going on here, we’re not going anywhere with you weirdos, excuse my bluntness.” She fixed the pale rabbit with a glittering and determined eye. “You’d have to chain us up first, matey!”
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    â€œNice going with that comment about the chains, Esmeralda!” said Trundle, rattling his manacles.
    â€œOh, shut up!” Esmeralda retorted. “How was I to know they’d take me literally?”
    The two hedgehogs were sitting together in a gloomy and grimy little room with curved wooden walls. They guessed they were aboard a wrecked windship. Somewhere deep below the decks, somewhere slimy and smelly.
    No sooner had Esmeralda made her remark about chains than all the albinos had turned and fallen upon them. Before he knew it, Trundle’s sword had been wrenched out of his hand and an old sack drawn down over his head. Then he was upended and the bag was pulled tight around his knees and he was lifted onto bony shoulders and carried off, with only Esmeralda’s muffled cries of protest to be heard.
    He had been jogged along for some time before he got the impression of being lifted up and then carried down to somewhere dank and stinky. The sack was taken off and the manacles were put on his wrists and ankles, and the gray shapes wafted away. A door clanged shut. In the deep gloom, he could see Esmeralda . . . but . . .
    â€œWhat do you think has happened to Jack?” he asked.
    â€œHow should I know?” grumbled Esmeralda. “I’ve been inside a sack for a while, in case you didn’t realize!”
    She tugged at the chains, but they were attached to a big iron staple that had been driven deep into the windship’s timbers.