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K INCHEN KNEW who was making the fish leap: Pip, of course. Pip, not realizing what a pond full of jumping fish might look like to the king—not realizing that it might look like he was floating in the middle of a feeding frenzy or something—
“Amazing,” said the Raft King. “The fish obey him. Yes, I need this boy.” To Kinchen, still standing where she’d jumped out of the bushes, he said, “You are...?”
The governor said, “This is the boy’s sister—the one I was telling you about.”
“He’s not going anywhere with you,” said Kinchen.
The fish finished jumping and the pond’s surface stilled. Pip’s head popped up as he began to swim toward shore. He didn’t look at the three people on the beach. It almost seemed like he’d forgotten about them, but Kinchen knew he hadn’t. He just didn’t know what to say or how to act around people—people not her or Ren. And knowing Pip, he’d probably already forgotten who these people were. Or at least forgotten which was which.
“He’s not going,” she said. “He lives here, on the Islands, with me and Old Ren, and he’s not going with you.”
The Raft King ignored her and called to Pip. “Good job. You made them leap?”
Pip shook his head no as he walked up onto the beach. Then he shook his head even harder, like a dog, and the water flew out of his short hair until it stood up in black spikes all over his head.
“It wasn’t you?” asked the governor in surprise.
“I didn’t make them. I asked them.” Pip glanced toward the pond.
“That’s what I meant,” said the Raft King.
Pip frowned as if he didn’t understand. And Kinchen could feel herself getting exasperated. This kind of misunderstanding was exactly why he couldn’t go places in public, why he should stay away from crowds. He didn’t know how to talk to people at all. He said, “But if you meant that—”
Kinchen said, “We need to get home, Pip. Now.”
Pip looked as if he’d just noticed her for the first time. “When did you get here?”
She didn’t answer. “We’re leaving,” she said to the Raft King. She narrowed her eyes at him and then at the governor, trying to give them each equal glare time.
The Raft King coughed. “Of course. Of course. I’d never make someone visit Raftworld—just visit , that’s all—if they didn’t want to. My apologies. But do let me offer you tea first. A Raftworld blend—very special. The governor and I were going to have some.” He gestured toward the mansion, and Kinchen could see a small table just outside the back door, set with a teapot and cups and plates. She must have rushed past it earlier.
Pip’s face lit up, his shock of black hair around his head looking (as usual) like a dandelion gone to seed. His big brown eyes were even wider than usual and seemed to take up his whole face.
“Fine,” Kinchen said. “One cup of tea, and then we go home.”
The Raft King straightened his purple cape across his shoulders. “Excellent. Pip, is it?”
“Short for Pippin,” said the governor.
“No it isn’t,” said Kinchen.
“I’m just Pip,” said Pip. His name was short for the very old-fashioned name Philip, as Pip well knew. But Kinchen didn’t correct him.
“Well, Just Pip,” said the Raft King in a jolly voice. “Walk with me and tell me more about talking to the fish. Since you’re not sailing with me, you’ll need to tell me all about it now.” The two of them walked ahead toward the house.
The governor turned to Kinchen. “I would never allow anyone to be forced to go. Especially a child.” She emphasized the last word a tiny bit, as if to suggest that Pip was even more a child than typical, as if he needed even more protection than other children. Which, Kinchen thought, he did.
Kinchen frowned. “What about the trade agreement? What about the only two nations in the world won’t be friends anymore ?”
The governor said, “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” But she didn’t look sure.