Miarr nodded. "Fare-you-well," he said.
Thud... thump... clang. The sounds drew ever closer.
"Come with us, Mr. Miarr. Please," said Lucy.
Miarr shook his head. A particularly loud clang shook the wall of the bunkroom. A shaft of blinding white light flooded through the window, and Miarr let out a yell.
"My Light! Look away, look away!"
Lucy and Wolf Boy shielded their eyes, and Miarr lowered his LightLids. Like an enormous pendulum, the dazzling Sphere of Light, encased in a harness of ropes tied with knots that only sailors know, swung into view.
"They are taking my Light," Miarr said, gasping in disbelief. Slowly the Light was lowered past, swinging in and out of view, banging against the sides of the lighthouse as it went. With each thud Miarr winced as if in pain. Finally he could not bear it. He threw himself to the floor, drew his sealskin cloak up over his eyes and curled into a ball.
Lucy and Wolf Boy were made of sterner stuff. They ran to the window, but Miarr raised his head and let out a warning hiss. "Ssss! Wait until the Light is farther away," he whispered. "Then cover your eyes and look through your fingers. Do not look directly at it. And then...oh, please tell me what they are doing with my Light." He curled back into a ball and pulled his cloak over his head.
Impatiently Lucy and Wolf Boy waited until the bumping against the side of the lighthouse wall grew fainter and then, covering their eyes with their hands and peering between their fingers, they looked out. Above them, dark against the bright sky, they saw the bizarre sight of the Crowe twins' insect-eyed heads sticking out from each of the lighthouse's eyes as they carefully played out the ropes, lowering Miarr's precious Sphere of Light to the ground.
Carefully, Lucy and Wolf Boy looked down. Far below they saw Skipper Fry and Jakey. Skipper Fry was waving his arms like a demented windmill, directing the final few feet of the Sphere of Light's descent so that it came to rest on the rocks just above the Marauder.
Lucy and Wolf Boy suddenly ducked back inside, and the swish of ropes falling from the top of the lighthouse filled the bunkroom. The metallic clank of the steps began once more. An angry hiss from Miarr was lost in the ring of steel-tipped boots as the Crowes passed by without a glance.
For the next half hour, Lucy and Wolf Boy gave Miarr a running commentary on what they saw. Each comment was greeted by a low moan. They watched the Sphere of Light, still encircled with ropes, being rolled to the edge of the rocks and thrown into the water. It landed with a splash, then bobbed up like a fisherman's float, the bright light turning the water around it a beautiful translucent green. They saw the Crowes set to work securing the ropes running from the Light to the stern of the Marauder, and when Skipper Fry was satisfied with the result, clamber aboard. Lastly they watched Jakey Fry loose the mooring rope and jump aboard. Jakey raised the sails, and the Marauder set off, its bizarre prize bobbing along behind it like a giant beach ball. Lucy and Wolf Boy watched it go. "It looks like they have stolen the moon," whispered Lucy.
Miarr heard. "They have stolen the sun," he wailed. "My sun." He let out a desperate howl, which sent goose bumps down their spines.
"Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" he shrieked. "I would rather die than see them take my Light."
Lucy left the window. She kneeled beside Miarr, who was still curled up in a little sealskin ball looking, she thought, like a large hedgehog that had shed its prickles.
"Don't be so silly," she told him. "Of course you wouldn't. Anyway, you didn't see it. You've been lying there with your eyes closed."
"I do not need to see. I feel it. Here." Miarr's fist clenched over his chest. "They have ripped out my heart and sailed it away. Oh, I wish I were dead. Dead! "
"Well, you're not dead," said Lucy. "Anyway, if you were dead you wouldn't be able to get it back, would you? But now you can, can't you?"
"But how?" Miarr wailed. "How?"
"We can help, can't we?" Lucy looked at Wolf Boy.
Wolf Boy opened his eyes wide as if to say, Are you crazy?
"Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" howled Miarr.
Lucy recognized a kindred screamer, and she knew exactly what to do. She stepped smoothly into the shoes usually occupied by Mrs. Gringe: "Now, just stop it, Mr. Miarr. Stop it right now. No one is listening," she said sternly. Miarr stopped in surprise. No one had talked to him like that since his old granny had died.
"That's better," said Lucy, well into Mrs. Gringe mode. "Now sit up, wipe your nose and behave. Then we can figure something out."
Like an obedient child, Miarr sat up, rubbed the sleeve of his sealskin cloak across his nose and looked expectantly at Lucy. "How shall you get my Light back?" he asked, his big yellow eyes gazing earnestly at her.
"Well, um...first we will need the rescue boat, obviously, and then we'll need a..."
She glanced at Wolf Boy for help.
"A plan," he said with a grin. "Obviously."
Lucy stuck out her tongue. A smarty-pants boy and a tantrum-prone cat-man were not going to stop her from getting even with two murderous thugs and their insulting skipper. No way.
Chapter 30 The Red Tube