Drowned Wednesday by Garth Nix Page A

. that will do, thank you, Ichabod,’ said Catapillow nervously. ‘Come with me.’
    He led the way up to the quarterdeck, where two Denizens wrestled with the wheel, and Sunscorch shouted orders at the Denizens aloft and on the deck, trimming sails and yards. There were two other Denizens there as well. One stood next to Sunscorch, nodding sagely at every order but saying nothing. He looked rather like Captain Catapillow, with a bland face and similar clothes, so was clearly an officer. Probably the First Mate, Arthur thought. The one who used to be the Chief Clerk in the counting house.
    The other Denizen was completely different. He was crouched on the deck next to the wheel. A strange, small figure not much taller than Arthur, he was almost completely lost inside a voluminous yellow greatcoat with rolled-up cuffs. He was bald and his face and head were completely covered in small, colourful tattoos that Arthur realised after a moment were animated, moving and shifting around. Tattoos of ships and sea creatures, birds and clouds, maps and moons and stars and suns and planets.
    ‘Mister Concort, who is First Mate,’ whispered Ichabod, pointing to the Denizen next to Sunscorch. ‘And Doctor Scamandros, our most accomplished sorcerer and navigator. He’s casting the haruspices to see where we might be able to go. No one must interrupt, take note. Dreadful things would happen.’
    At that moment, a gust of wind hit the Moth hard and she heeled over even farther. As everyone on the quarterdeck scrambled to keep their footing, Arthur stumbled against Captain Catapillow, and both of them ended up sliding across the deck and into the rail.
    Arthur almost went over, into the dark sea that was surprisingly close below. He managed to save himself and, at the last second, his blanket, but at the cost of a jolt to his broken leg that sent a savage, stabbing pain up his side and into his head.
    As the ship righted itself in response to Sunscorch’s shouted commands, Arthur noticed that almost everybody else had ended up on the starboard rail, apart from the two helmsmen clinging to the wheel, Sunscorch next to them, and Doctor Scamandros to the side. He was still crouched where he’d been, as if he were glued to the deck. All the things he was studying were also still there, which seemed impossible. Several maps were laid out on the deck, with a pair of gilt-bronze dividers on top, a ruler, and the skull of a small animal that had been converted into a cup to hold a dozen or so pencils.
    There were also lots of small pieces of coloured cardboard strewn apparently at random next to the map. Doctor Scamandros was studying them and whistling through his front teeth. After a few seconds, he gathered them up into his cupped hands and threw them down again. To Arthur’s surprise, they joined together as they fell, and he realised they were jigsaw pieces. When they hit the deck, nearly all of them had joined, but two or three pieces remained separate. The jigsaw was incomplete.
    Doctor Scamandros stopped whistling and the wind, as if in response, eased a little. The Denizen gathered the jigsaw pieces together again and put them in a cardboard box that had a picture of a sheep on it, which he then put inside his yellow greatcoat. After this was done, he stood up. This was obviously the point at which he could be interrupted, because Catapillow and Concort rushed over to him.
    ‘What are the signs, Doctor?’ asked Catapillow. ‘Is there a course out of here?’
    ‘No,’ said Scamandros. His voice was very high and pure, and reminded Arthur strangely of a trumpet. ‘There is some power interfering with both the goat and sheep auguries. I dare not try the ox in such circumstances. Without guidance, I can find no true course.’
    ‘Is it Feverfew?’ asked Sunscorch. ‘Even so far away?’
    ‘No,’ said Scamandros. He had caught sight of Arthur for the first time, and his dark eyes were staring straight at the boy. ‘It is much