Wicked Runaway: A Mark Cannidor Adventure

Chapter Eight

It certainly was not how Mark had imagined. He expected the darkest of clouds, wizards with dirty clothes and smug looks on their faces. In fact, Mark was under the impression that the crew of the Sellina would not be welcomed onto the island at all, as it was their goal to build an army to fight against Malcheffi's people. However, as Mark disembarked from the ship, he realised that the people of Gold were as down to earth as you could get.

He had hardly ever visited a city before in his life. His mother and father preferred to stay out of the way, except for rare financial emergencies and larger deliveries from the farm. Other than that, Mark remained within the confines of the farm, the forest and the village. Yet, what Mark found most amazing about the city was that this was a land that most people in the world didn't know existed. It wouldn't appear on a normal map, and Mark had to use magic to find out where this place was.

However, when Mark looked more closely into it, he realised that the people of Alliva kept their distance. There was no laughing, cheerful chatter, or any sense of community spirit. In fact, the most astonishing thing was that the people of Alliva kept themselves to themselves. It was heart-breaking, but almost as though the country was at a brink of disaster.

One where each person fended for themselves.

'Fancy, huh?' Mark turned and found that Elizabeth was behind him. Despite the hot weather, she was wearing sunglasses with a scarf and a wool hat and had an umbrella in one hand and a brown leather bag in another.

'Why...?' Mark began to ask, noticing how oddly dressed she was for this weather.

'Oh, this?' Elizabeth asked, chuckling at her get up. 'I'm allergic to the sun. I'm a vampire'.

A vampire? Mark thought. Surely to goodness, he should have been bitten by now. And what about Captain McGough? Was he a vampire too?

'Oh goodness, no,' Elizabeth replied, almost as if she had been reading his thoughts. 'The taste of human blood makes me feel sick'. She made a gagging motion at the thought. 'Don't worry. Your blood is safe with me'.

He very much hoped so.

'There you are!' shouted Captain McGough, noticing Mark and Elizabeth stood on the port. He clapped Mark on the back. 'Well, what do you think?'

'It's truly amazing, Captain McGough,' Mark replied. 'Listen - thanks for everything so far. I hope I haven't been too much of a burden for you'.

'It's not me you want to be thanking, my boy,' Captain McGough said. 'Jeremiah was the one who noticed you. That's why we picked you up. It was all his calling. We would have had you straight off that blasted Sinatra the first opportunity we had. Besides – you have been completely useful to us so far. So was Jeremiah when he found you. Speaking of which...where exactly is my poor excuse of a First Mate?'

Captain McGough observed his surroundings as he went off to look for Jeremiah.

'He'll be about somewhere,' Elizabeth said. 'I imagine he'll have raced through customs. Shall we continue?'

Elizabeth ushered Mark to follow her. They made their way towards a group of people waiting to be checked in through customs. Mark recognised Quinte, Sophie, Jeremiah, and a few other faces from above deck. They were on the other side of border control, laughing. There was just one other person there who he didn't recognise, and his heart skipped a few beats.

It was a gentleman with a green cloak, wearing a royal blue gown, and a golden crown on his head. He had a shaggy bush of hair and a long beard. Mark couldn't help but feel that this was a person of royalty. Someone who had the duty of greeting visitors, perhaps. Or maybe...