The Battle of the Werepenguins Read online

  “Do not groan!” said the seer. “I see darkness, but I also see hope. I see cities filled with laughter. I see dogs hugging cats. I see the entire world holding hands and singing with joy.”

  “Do you really see those things?”

  Omneseus shrugged. “Maybe I embellish a little.” The seer stood up, stepped around the fire, and rested his hand on Bolt’s shoulder. “Have faith, Bolt. I see a light at the end of your dark tunnel.”

  Bolt perked up, a smile threatening to spread onto his lips. “So, you’re saying I’ll win?”

  “No, I said you will walk through a dark tunnel. Pay attention.” Bolt no longer felt like smiling. “But let me ask you a question. Does the Stranger talk to you?”

  “I’ve never even met him.”

  “Yes, but does his voice echo in your head? Do you feel his voice crawling inside you, whispering, cajoling, enticing you to join him in his evilness?”

  “Of course not,” said Bolt.

  “Good,” said the seer. “Let us hope it never does. That would make fighting him much more difficult. Now, go. You have the power of a werepenguin in your blood, Bolt. It is what connects you to the universal power of the penguin-verse. You must learn how to use it. It is your only chance!”

  “Back up a second. The penguin-verse?”

  “Yes! The penguin-verse is what binds you to all penguins! To win, you must harness its infinite strength!”

  “How do I do that?”

  The seer patted Bolt on his head. “I’ve got no idea. But you’ll figure it out, at least I hope so, or everyone in the world is doomed.”

  The seer snapped his fingers, and a cloud of smoke enveloped him. The smoke cleared, and the seer had vanished. It was a very cool way to exit a room.

  “Great. No pressure,” Bolt mumbled to himself.

  As Bolt turned to walk out of the cave, the seer’s words lingered in his head, filling it with worry, dread, and a million other emotions, all bad. The penguin-verse? Another dangerous quest? But one thought loomed larger than the rest: Does the Stranger talk to you?

  Bolt had said the Stranger didn’t. He wasn’t sure why he had lied about that.

  2.

  Happyish Together

  It had been midmorning when Bolt first climbed the mountain to visit the seer, and it was early evening by the time he climbed back down. Quad, one of the seer’s disciples, was there to greet him. Like all the Omnescians, Quad was bald and wore a white tunic. But he was fairly easy to spot because he stood on stilts.

  The disciple peered down at Bolt. “Welcome back. Did the seer give you what you came for?” Bolt nodded. “I think I can guess what you discussed.” Quad closed his eyes and rested his long fingers on Bolt’s head, softly rubbing up and down. The man was studying to become a seer himself one day, although his predictions were never accurate. “Ah, yes. I see a banjo and a glass of milk.” He pressed his fingers harder on Bolt’s head, digging in with more force. It was quite uncomfortable, really. “Ah! Ah! You wish to strum! And, and . . . sing songs about skim milk.” He opened his eyes and smiled excitedly. “How did I do?”

  “You weren’t even close.”

  The man kicked the dirt with one of his stilts. “Drat. I also saw something about a whale dentist, but the banjo thing seemed much more likely.”

  “Well, keep trying,” said Bolt encouragingly. He waved goodbye and then continued walking until he reached the sandy beaches of Omnescia. There, he saw his friends engaged in a duel on the shore. Blackburn swung his swordfish, a mighty serrated blade. It whistled in the wind. Annika held only a tree branch, and while she lacked both the weaponry and the sword skills of her older, more experienced adversary, she made up for it with speed and quickness. She leapt over the pirate’s swing, ducked under a thrust, and rolled under a jab. She then popped up and poked him in the gut with the end of her stick.

  “Bah. Yer a difficult one to fight, missy,” said the pirate, scowling. “Who can keep up with all that leapin’, duckin’, and rollin’? Borscht!” Blackburn often cried out Borscht! It was his calling card, as were the thick, plush sideburns that covered half his cheeks. “Stay still, missy!” the pirate bellowed.

  He swung his swordfish again, but Annika had already leapt, ducked, and rolled away, the bobby pins in her long blonde hair clattering together. “If I stay still, you’ll hit me,” she pointed out. “And. Don’t. Call. Me. Missy.” She knocked the tricorn hat off Blackburn’s head with a quick swing of her branch. Bolt was impressed. She had learned a lot about dueling in a very short time.

  The pirate sputtered curses as he picked up his hat. As he did, Annika noticed Bolt watching them. “You’re back!” She dropped her branch and hurried over to her friend. “So? Did the seer give you a secret weapon? Did he tell you how to find the Stranger? Or did he just sing a confusing chant?”

  “He sang a confusing chant,” said Bolt, frowning. “And we have a mission. We have to steal a silver seal tooth from a bunch of dentists.”

  “Wait. Really?” Annika studied Bolt, as if waiting for the punch line.

  “Borscht!” said the pirate, joining them. “That sounds like the tooth of the Ilversay Oothtay Ealsay.” When Bolt shot the pirate a surprised glance, Blackburn added, “All pirates know of the Ealsay. But I thought the creature was a myth, like goblins and witches and were-creatures.” Bolt cleared his throat and pointed to himself. “Sorry, matey. I mean like goblins and witches and unlike were-creatures.”

  Bolt explained the entire mission to his friends, including the part about the werepenguin.

  “Another one? How many werepenguins are there in the world, anyway?” Annika asked.

  “To become a werepenguin you need to be born with a penguin-shaped birthmark like mine,” said Bolt, “and be bitten by another werepenguin under a full moon after midnight, so probably not many.” Bolt could tell from the shocked looks on his friends’ faces, they were as unhappy about the whole task as he was.

  “We’ve defeated werepenguins before. We’ll just have to do it again,” said Annika bravely. Bolt appreciated her confidence. It almost made him feel brave himself. “Right, Blackburn?”

  The pirate said nothing.

  “I said right?” Annika repeated.

  Blackburn squirmed.

  “Um, you’re squirming,” Annika pointed out.

  “Aye,” agreed the pirate, who continued to squirm. “It’s just that, well, ye know, I’m a pirate. We fight for profit. But where’s the profit in fightin’ another werepenguin?”

  “This isn’t about treasure. It’s about saving the world,” said Bolt.

  Blackburn shrugged. “What do I care about savin’ the anything?”

  “Stop it,” said Annika, waving her hand away as if his arguments were as silly as giving a snow cone machine to a hippopotamus. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Do I look serious?” asked Blackburn.

  The pirate narrowed his eyes and puckered his lips. Bolt had to admit, he looked quite serious.

  The pirate removed a small handbook from his breast pocket and waved it in the air. A knife hole remained in the leather cover from where it had been stabbed a few weeks earlier, saving his life but marring the book. “This is me Pirate Handbook, as ye know. We pirates live by this book. And there is nothin’ in here about savin’ the world.”

  “As you know, I also have my own handbook: The Code of the Bandit,” said Annika, removing a thick book from a pocket in her shirt. It didn’t have a knife hole, but otherwise it was in way worse shape than Blackburn’s book, frayed at the edges and covered with creases. “But I’ve learned you can’t live your life following a code someone else wrote. You have to make your own path. Write your own book. And sometimes that book says to fight for your friends and the world, even if there’s no treasure in it.” She flashed Bolt a smile, and Bolt smiled right back.

 
“Bah,” said Blackburn, who did not join their smiling. “Pirates seek adventure for gold. Rubies. The latest video games.”

  “But what about fighting for friendship?” Annika asked.

  “That’s not good enough, I’m afraid. Ye can’t spend treasure if ye are some werepenguin’s dinner. Borscht!”

  Annika looked angry, her face turning red, but Bolt merely sighed. When she and Bolt first met Blackburn, back in Sphen, the pirate said he would only help them if he received treasure in return. Bolt thought Blackburn had changed. Maybe not.

  Annika put her hands on her hips, but she looked more sad than angry. Her eyes misted. Bolt knew she had grown close to Blackburn; his reluctance to fight with them obviously hurt her. “Fine. If it’s treasure you want, it’s treasure you’ll get,” she said, spitting. “Fight with us, and I’ll get you a chest of diamonds and another chest of video games. I promise. And a bandit always keeps her word, at least usually.”

  “Where will ye get a treasure chest?” the pirate asked.

  “Last time we fought together I got you your ship back, didn’t I? You’ll just have to trust that I can get your treasure.”

  Bolt shook his head. After they had defeated the Earl of Sphen, Blackburn had gotten his old pirate ship back, that was true. But Annika didn’t have any chests of treasure to give away, and Bolt doubted she could get any. Still, Blackburn stared at Annika and appeared to be mulling over his options. He could decline to join them. If he did, it would be the same as calling Annika a liar. Or he could agree to go on the adventure even if he knew Annika was lying. Sure, bandits kept their word, usually—just as Annika had said. But usually was not the same as always.

  “Very well,” said the pirate. “I will help ye. But I won’t promise me help beyond gettin’ this tooth. And when we get that tooth, I get me treasure chests. Deal, missy?”

  “As long as you don’t call me missy”—Annika put her hand out, and Blackburn gave it a firm shake—“we have a deal.” After everything was settled, they all headed toward the pirate ship, the Bobbing Borscht.

  As he walked, Bolt was relieved. Their chances of getting the tooth were much higher with Blackburn’s help. And then, after they succeeded, perhaps Blackburn would change his mind and accompany them to the South Pole. They needed him, although Bolt couldn’t really blame the pirate for his reluctance—he was right: you can’t spend treasure if you’re a werepenguin’s meal.

  Bolt hoped they weren’t walking straight onto a dinner plate.

  3.

  Mind a Penguin’s Mind

  The Bobbing Borscht sliced through the calm sea. It was a beautiful craft, from its tall, billowing sails to the mahogany wood lining the deck. The ship barely rocked, which was fortunate for Annika, as she was prone to getting seasick.

  Blackburn was an expert navigator. “Follow the stars and the constellations,” he said. “The Big Dipper leads to the North Star. The constellation Orion the Hunter sets in the west and rises in the east. And the mighty wing of Pepe the Penguin points to the south, and that is the direction of Pingvingrad, according to me pirate maps. The maps are old, mind ye, but accurate.”

  “How old are they?” asked Annika.

  “As old as these candies I have in me pocket,” answered the pirate, removing a moose-shaped Pez dispenser from his breeches.

  “But it’s daytime,” Bolt said, looking up at the sky. “If you can’t see any of the constellations, how can you follow them?”

  “We pirates have excellent memories for that sort of thing. We know the constellations like the backs of our hands.” Blackburn held up a hand.

  “That’s the back of my hand,” complained Annika, yanking it away from Blackburn’s grasp.

  “Right, sorry,” mumbled the pirate. “And now that I think of it, we’re heading the wrong way.”

  Blackburn rushed back to the wheel to steer, while Annika and Bolt went to the prow. Omneseus had instructed Bolt to embrace his penguin-ism. Use it. Bolt wasn’t quite sure how to do that, but he had some ideas. Annika agreed to help him, although she was skeptical of the seer’s advice. She rested her practice sword on the ground as she tied a blindfold over Bolt’s eyes. “The penguin-verse?” she asked.

  “Yes. Omneseus said it is all around us.”

  “That’s sort of disturbing.”

  “All penguins are united with a universal energy.” Bolt could feel it sometimes. If he could tap into that power, who knew what he could do? Maybe he would have extra sharp penguin senses. Maybe he could control time and space. Or maybe he would just start waddling more.

  He wouldn’t know unless he tried something.

  “Are you ready?” Bolt asked. In his left hand, he held a dead, limp fish.

  “I guess so,” said Annika. “But why did the seer tell you to fight blindfolded with a dead fish?”

  “Well, that was my own idea, actually. I don’t need mighty weapons—at least I don’t think I do.”

  “The whole thing sounds like a farce to me.”

  “Let the farce be with you,” said Bolt, bowing his head.

  “I don’t even know what that means.”

  Bolt wasn’t nearly as confident as he pretended to be. Fighting Annika with a fish? But something about it seemed right to him. He couldn’t explain it. It was a leap of faith, but Bolt needed all the faith he could get, and plenty of leaps. He just needed to focus and see the universal aura of penguins.

  Unfortunately, the only thing Bolt saw was the blackness of a blindfold. He took a step backward. He could hear her practice sword swooshing in the air as Annika stepped toward him. This was going to hurt.

  No.

  Wait.

  Maybe he couldn’t see Annika, but it was like his other senses, those of hearing and smell, had awakened from some dormant sleep. He could hear her back creak. He could smell behind Annika’s ears, although he wished he couldn’t. He felt the air parting as her weapon sliced through it, and he hopped backward, out of the way. Easy. He sensed her countermove, an upward thrust aimed at his shoulder. He held up his fish to block the blow.

  Annika’s stick banged against Bolt’s knee. He fell to the ground, holding his leg, yelping. “That hurt!”

  “Oh, quit complaining. I barely touched you.”

  Bolt slipped off his blindfold to make sure he wasn’t bleeding. He wasn’t. “Let’s go again.”

  “This is silly,” said Annika.

  “I must learn to harness my power.”

  Annika took a deep breath and frowned as Bolt hobbled up on his feet. “How about if I fight you with a bobby pin instead?” She removed one of the pins from her hair. “If you can stop this, we’ll try the stick next.”

  Bolt knew that, in general, a bobby pin made a terrible weapon. Still, maybe it would be a good place to start. Baby steps. Bolt held out his arms and bent his leg—the one that didn’t hurt from being thwacked by Annika—in a sort of martial arts stance that felt fighter-like. He slipped the blindfold back into place.

  The air around him churned with penguin energy. Each of Annika’s movements disturbed that energy, like ripples in the water. But Bolt was powerful! He was one with the penguin cosmos, or something like that. He sidestepped, and his foot hit the edge of the boat, but he steadied himself as Annika feinted to the left and jabbed with her right. He raised his arm to block her.

  “Ow!” The bobby pin jabbed his shoulder. “I thought you were feinting to the left and jabbing with your right,” Bolt complained, yanking off the blindfold.

  “No, I feinted to the right and jabbed with my left. But you were close, I guess.”

  Bolt rubbed his shoulder and winced. “I think, for a split second, I felt some kind of penguin energy.”

  “The split second when I was jabbing you with a bobby pin? Or the split second when you almost tripped?” Annika tossed him her “weapon.” “Why don’t you t
ake this and practice picking locks instead? I don’t think you’re quite ready for the penguin nurse, or whatever it is.” The boat hit a large wave, and the boat rocked back and forth. Water spilled onto the deck. “While you practice your mind-stuff,” said Annika, “I’m going to stand over the railing and get sick.”

  Which she did.

  4.

  The Friendship Code

  Late that night, Annika sat at a desk in her cabin. The ship held a few rooms belowdecks, including some large enough to hold ten men. Many years before, the Bobbing Borscht had sailed the seas with a full crew who explored islands, stole riches from merchant ships, and engaged in long swashbuckling battles. Annika would have loved participating in exciting feats like those, as long as they all happened on land. The sea was not for her, or her stomach.

  But the sea was calm for now, thankfully.

  Blackburn remained on deck, navigating. Annika could hear Bolt in the cabin next to her, moaning and shrieking. He was having another nightmare; Annika had grown used to his nighttime yelps. She worried about him. He wasn’t a natural-born fighter, like Annika was. And this whole penguin-verse talk? She didn’t believe in spiritual, superstitious nonsense like that.

  At least the moon was merely half full in the sky, so Bolt wouldn’t be turning into a werepenguin, as he did under the full moon. In some magical places, the moon was full every night. Bolt said that he suspected Pingvingrad was one of those places. Cities under magical full moons tended to attract were-creatures.

  Annika held a quill and had both the Code of the Bandit and a blank piece of parchment in front of her. Annika would have preferred writing with a pencil, but all she had was this quill. She dipped it into an ink jar and then crossed out a section of the bandit code. Next, she wrote an addendum on the blank parchment paper.

  The Code of the Bandit, Chapter 87, Subsection 14