By Ann Weaver

There was no escape from Interhaven’s warship blockade. For forty-eight hours, we had pored over the map, looking for any possible escape route, and still we found nothing.

“We can’t leave with all our cargo intact,” I stated, flipping my long brown braid behind my shoulder and yanking at it impatiently. “We could just turn it in; Interhaven might be lenient if we give it up.”

Captain Barr glared at me. “Ain’t doin’ that. The Ellingbrook government bought our weapons.”

“Which Interhaven will confiscate anyway!”

The captain’s face hardened. “We can’t give up without at least tryin’. Ellingbrook won’t never trust us again.”

The cabin boy, Gawain, entered. “No one is bothering us, but we are still being watched.” He spoke slowly, making his thick Avenvale accent easier to understand.

The captain cursed and brushed past us to go on deck. I followed. The waters lapping against the side of the ship filled my sea-loving soul—but with it came the grating words of Gawain’s new parrot hanging in its cage on the side of the ship. “Is our rage! Is our rage!” 

“Get that bird to shut up!” Second Mate Thrusher shouted.

“That bird talks nothing but nonsense,” Lili added from the poop deck. “I can’t handle it no more! He talks about eggs day in and day out!”

“No,” Tom called from his perch in the sails. “’e’s sayin’ ‘extra rain!’ or I’m a parrot meself.”

“First Mate!” Captain Barr barked at me.

I hurried up the steps to the higher deck and nodded to him.

“See anything we haven’t seen yet?” He handed me the telescope.

“Nothing, sir. Nothing but the same water, ships, and narrow-eyed officials.” I bit my lip, hoping he had discovered something I hadn’t.

“That’s what I thought.” Captain Barr reached for the lens again. My shoulders sagged, and I turned to go inside to examine the map again.

***

It was the final day before we could break away and hope to make it to Ellingbrook on time. The wind was strong, but so was the Interhaven blockade. We could outrun them all if only there were a way out.

Captain Barr called each crew member into his quarters one by one in a last attempt to see if we could discover anything new on the map that could possibly hint of an escape route. I sat outside on a barrel yanking on my braid as the captain interviewed the last crewmate.

“Is our rage! Is our rage!” The parrot squawked.

I groaned. “Not again.”

“I still say he’s talking about eggs.” Lili came to stand nearby.

“It’s rain ’e’s sayin.’ Can’t you hear?” Tom shouted from his usual perch above us.

“Who cares?” I threw up my arms.

Second Mate Thrusher approached. “Know what it really sounds like? That place on the map. Exara Range.”

“Is our rage! Is our rage!”

I shrugged. “It does sound similar.”

“Why are you talking about rivers when we have water all around us?” Gawain’s drawl interrupted us. “Seems a waste of time.”

“Exara Range. The map says it’s a mountain pass,” Lili corrected.

“Exara Range? That is not a mountain name. Mountains do not flow.”

“What do you mean?” My eyebrows furrowed.

“In Avenvale, Exara means ‘flowing away.’ ‘Ex’ is away and ‘ara’ is flowing.” Gawain drew himself up proudly.

“It does?” I leapt off the barrel, almost colliding with Captain Barr, who had just appeared from his quarters. “Did you hear him, Captain?”

“I did.” Captain Barr stared at Gawain. “You say there could be a river? A river in the mountain?”

Second Mate Thrusher turned to us, eyes wide. “The parrot was from an Avenvale immigrant. Do you think—”

“It’s a clue.” I exclaimed. “Gawain, that immigrant was giving us a clue!”

Captain Barr barked orders, and a wave of hope sent a thrill of excitement through us as we leapt into action.

We would get our cargo out of the Intervale ports or go down trying.

***

We completed our tasks rapidly but with as much calm as we could muster. I glanced anxiously toward the surrounding ships in hopes that no one noticed our sudden activity. The sun barely moved before Captain Barr strode by, studying each of us to ensure we were in our proper places. He nodded.

I let out a short, piercing whistle. In seconds, our sails unfurled, catching the glorious wind. We raced across the water, away from the ships blocking the lone way out of the cove, and along the path we had marked on the map as the fastest toward Exara Range.

Cries of surprise came from the Interhaven ships, their crews scrambling to hoist their own sails for pursuit. Captain Barr shouted orders, and we let the sails out even further. If we could get out of this cove, we would easily outdistance the other ships on the high seas.

The still waters stretched on longer than the map suggested. I glanced back. I could see the crew’s faces as they turned to yell at each other. Just a little farther, and we should be able to see the range…

“There!” Tom cried out from the rigging. I spun and gazed out toward the sea. As we sped through the narrow mountain pass thick with trees, I saw the ocean’s wide expanse preceded by a nearly hidden, twisting river just wide enough for our ship.

A cheer went up from the crew. As I turned to give further orders, my eyes fell on the birdcage rocking with the swift movement of the ship. The parrot looked at me and opened his beak, letting out his usual phrase. “Is our rage! Is our rage!”

I shook my head and chuckled. “Whatever happens after this, bird, you will be the hero of this tale—from here all the way to Avenvale. Ellingbrook, here we come!”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ann Weaver’s writing journey started when she was five years old. For many years, she scribbled stories in dozens of notebooks, growing and developing her love of writing. She has been published multiple times in anthologies and is a Teaching Assistant for a young writer’s program. She has also launched her own course for hobby writers. When she’s not writing, you’ll likely find her reading, baking, or learning American Sign Language.

---

Author Links