“But her secret remained. Not even King Stuppy could take it from her. Little by little, the increasing size of King Stuppy’s scurvy crowd, and the mounting tide of filth and vile odors they brought, caused Bram to silently withdraw her attempts to start a school. But she withdrew with a purpose in mind. She would teach her daughter well. So, even in spite of the King, mother taught me to read and speak a proper tongue.
“‘I refuse life on the lowest terms for you, Annie,’ she used to say. ‘What is in your mind and heart is the only thing that is surely and truly yours. Gain all you can of mind and heart and no one can take it!’
“So, you see, friends,” Annie concluded, “my father is King Stuppy Marit—the wealthiest trader, and self-proclaimed ruler, of the Drownlands—but he never cared about me, or my mother. Bram just gradually faded away, like a candle burning out. The wealthier the King got, the more she withdrew and focused on teaching me. She just couldn’t stand the way he treated the creatures. I hated it, too. Finally, I ran away and joined a gang of bandits who were raiding King Stuppy’s traders. I thought it was a great way to get back at him...” She grew thoughtful, staring off into space.
“But it turned out not to be so great, is that it?” Toshty asked gently.
Annie sighed. “I’m still looking for the unbroken circle of friends.” She looked at Breister and Toshty. “But maybe I can finally learn everything my mother tried to teach me. Maybe even unfortunate, foolish Cougars—just like crazy Owls—can have a real family?” This was phrased as a question, but sounded more like a statement of hope.
For several minutes, Annie said nothing more, allowing what she had shared to sink in. She noticed that Breister seemed to be considering something. At last, she asked him about it.
“What’s on your mind, Breister,” she said. “You look like your thoughts are far away.”
Breister smiled. “Yes, there was something very interesting to me in your story.”
Annie looked questioningly at him.
“I was just thinking how interesting it is,” he began. “I apprenticed with an old Wood Cow carpenter—a retired seafarer. I was just wondering if Bram’s friend might have been the same old salt...His name was Klemés ma di son Colé!”
“You knew Klemés—the old ship’s carpenter?” Annie exclaimed. “The name is unusual enough that it seems likely that it might be the same one!”
“Yes,” Breister agreed slowly. “And there’s something especially interesting to me about old Klemés. While I was his apprentice, I took note of his young and lovely granddaughter...Her name was Helbara...”
A Parting of Ways
When the travelers arrived, dusty and road weary, at the Cutoff station, they moved quickly toward bed. They hoped to get an early start the next day. As the three friends unloaded their bags, Breister talked pleasantly for a few minutes with Zeke, the station-master, telling him a bit about his travels. A few days later, Zeke, in turn, would entertain a Bayou Dog named Burwell with his stories about the strange trio he had met. But, as he drifted off to sleep, all Breister knew was that he felt a growing sense that he was, at last, somehow close to Helga’s trail.
Breister, Annie, and Toshty set out early the next morning in the bladder canoe. “We paddle for several days through the backwaters of the Drownlands,” Toshty explained, “then we travel for a few days up a stream that runs into WooSheep Bottoms. From there, it’s just a short hike to my cabin.”
The next several days brought a closer sense of friendship among the travelers. Something wonderful had happened to break through the icy loneliness that had long sent Toshty and Annie off on their isolated paths. Breister, for his part, felt a sense of relief and comfort to feel that he could trust these friends. Together, they were all happier and stronger than any of them had been apart.
On the fourth day of their voyage up the creek toward WooSheep Bottoms, Breister sensed that Annie was agitated. Toshty, too, seemed ill at ease. Something was up, Breister knew, but his friends were not saying what was bothering them.
The next morning, Breister was roasting some fresh frog legs on a spit for their breakfast, when Annie cleared her throat to get his attention. He looked up at her expectantly, continuing to turn the roasting spit over the campfire.
Annie smiled at him. She was holding Toshty’s wing in her paw. “Breister,” she began, “Toshty and I have something to tell you.”
Looking at the joy in the eyes of his friends, Breister felt that he did not really have to be told what they were going to say, but he replied, “I’m all ears. Go ahead.”