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  [colpse]Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Three - Wear Your Sunshine on Your Ship

  I swooshed the brush across a a big drippy smear of paint across the wood. On the backstroke, I pressed all the little dribbles back down with a quick ssh that turhe hull partially yellow, with only pinpricks of the wood beh visible.

  The brush went into the hanging by a rope o me. I swirled it about within, then took it out all dribbly a with happy yellow, and bato the hull it went to add areak of colour to the Beaver’s side.

  I had never really spent all that much time painting, other than a few hazy memories of arts and crafts iary school and some sery painting I’d done for fun. I remembered being really bad at it. More enthusiastic than talented. But painting a hull wasn’t painting people and homes and happy little trees, it was all one uniform colour, so even a dolt like me could do it, no problem.

  I wao paint it like a mural with rainbows and cute critters and a big smiley-faced sun. but Amaryllis said no. She said no very emphatically.

  So far, I’d dohe eern of the port side, aire and a bit of yellow paint liberally applied on freshly ed wood. I was nearing the bottom of the dder I was using to paint. In a bit, I’d have to move it over a step or two and start back from the top.

  I was stepping down to reach a lower se when something bright caught my eye and had me turning around.

  Awen stood o the dder, head down so that all I could see was her long blond hair. “Awen?” I asked.

  The girl hen looked up. “Broccoli,” she said. Her eyes met mine for just a moment before twitg away. “Broccoli, are we friends?”

  I blinked. “Of course we’re friends!” I said. “You’re one of my two best, best friends. And you’ll be my friend forever and ever. Broccoli Bunch doesn’t abandon her friends.”

  Awen was still not meeting my eyes, but she did smile, small and shy, a bit like that first time when we’d met all of a couple of weeks ago. “Thank you,” she said.

  I hung onto the dder and watched as Awen darted away, slipping uhe prow so that I lost sight of her within a few steps. I didn’t know what that was about, exactly, but I was sure I’d figure it out eventually.

  I got back to painting, adding more brighto the Beaver so that it would look like a happy little ship. I was really looking forward to taking him out for a spin through the skies. We could paint stripes on the prop at the ba different colours so that it would look pretty when spinning, and I was sure they sold sails in colours that weren’t the pin white of the newly installed sails. We could have one in every colour!

  Humming a happy tuo myself, I tinued painting with big cheery strokes. The sun was shining bright overhead, and the air smelled like fresh paint and--when the wind came in just right--like freshly baked bread.

  It was going to be lunchtime in a bit, a good excuse to pause, but until then I’d do as much as I could.

  “It’s a bit ky,” I heard Amaryllis say.

  “Awa, I try to make it better. Um, but I think it might be better if I start from scratch.”

  “That’s fair. I think most of it es from my own ck of skill. It will take some practice before I reach a level of petency that I’m fortable with.”

  I leaned ba the dder until I could see my friends ing around the front of the Beaver. They weren’t alone.

  At first I thought they were with someone else, but I had to discard that as the third person stepped out into the light. It pet. A big, human-sized puppet, oh limbs made from wooden stakes and with a barrel-like torso. It bore more simirities to the dummies used as target practice than with a proper mannequin.

  It ked along, its wrists and ankles and joints tied to little cords running up into the air, then around and towards Amaryllis who was holding a little cross-shaped thing. “Done gawking?” she asked.

  “Not yet,” I said. “Is that for your puppetry skill?” I asked.

  “It is,” Amaryllis said. “More for the sake of practice than anything. Awen here made it for me.”

  Awen csped her hands together and shook her head. “It was nothing. Amaryllis needed something to practi, and I didn’t know what to make. It’s very rough.”

  “It works,” Amaryllis said. “Broccoli, do you have more paint and brushes?”

  “Yoing to help?”

  “World no, I’m not going to dirty my feathers with that gunk. Have you seen yourself?” She gestured at me. A gnced down and took in all the yellow streaks and dots all ay battledress. “You look like someone who survived some tragit involving aire jar of mustard.”

  “I it off,” I said.

  “Yes, but you won’t have to it off me because I won’t be covered in it,” Amaryllis said.

  I watched her walk off, her puppet stumbling after her as she made her way to a little shed where the paint and painting equipment was stored.

  “Ah... I didn’t make you anything, Broccoli,” Awen said. “I’m sorry? I couldn’t think of anything you needed. But, uh, if you do have something you want, please tell me?”

  I grinned down at her, and got a smile ba return. “I will! I’m sure the Beaver needs a whole bunch of things! He’s going to be the coolest ship ever, which means he he coolest gadgets ever.”

  Awen nodded. “That, that makes sense. I think... I think we add some ons, just in case of pirates.”

  I sched my nose up. “I guess that’s not a bad idea. Maybe ons that are hard to see? In case of non-pirates. We don’t want to scare people off.”

  Awen looked at the ship for a moment, and I could tell she was thinking something up. “I’ll be at the workshops,” she said.

  “Okay! I’ll call you back for lun a bit?” I asked.

  “Oh, of course!” she said.

  I waved her off a back to work until Amaryllis stepped out of the shed. Her puppet had a of paint tied to one hand and a paintbrush jammed iher. It had acquired a few drops of yellow across its front, but the real ge was Amaryllis. Her efit, once a nice brown shirt-pants bo, now had a wet, sticky front in eye-searing yellow.

  I greeted her with a snort. “Going full ary?” I asked.

  “Shut up. Now use that peasant ing magie. I don’t want to be seen this way.”

  I hummed and tapped my with the back tip of my brush. “I don’t know. Humility is important.”

  “I am perfectly humble as I am, now me.”

  I spshed her with a bit of ing magid watched her shudder as the paint just kind of melted off of her. “Thank you,” she said.

  “No problem. So yoing to paint with your puppet?”

  “That’s the idea, yes,” she said. “I he practice, and the ship desperately needs a coat of paint. Not... this disgusting shade and colour, but beggars and choosers and so on.”

  “I like the yellow,” I said.

  She gred up at me. “I’m aware,” she said. “It’s very much your kind of colour. you’ll want us ging the sails to match.”

  “I was thinking they could be other pretty colours, actually,” I said.

  Amaryllis made a disgusted sound and moved to the side, her puppet dutifully following along. It slowly moved its hand over the bucket of paint it was holding, carefully dipped the tip of the brush in, then lifted that arm up with janky motions until it was h by the side of the ship.

  The arm struck out, hitting the hull with a dull thump and leaving a roundish yellow sptter on the side of the ship.

  “Uh,” I said.

  “Shush you. It’s natural that I don’t have the fluidity of a more seasoned artist.” She gred at the puppet and had it swing its arm around in a nice, fluid arc... that pletely missed the side of the ship.

  “You keep practig,” I said as I got bay work.

  We tinued in panionable silence, only interrupted by my occasional happy humming of old songs from kids shows I liked and the thump of Amaryllis’ puppet hitting the side of our ship and leaving great big splotches of yellow on it.

  It was only some time ter that I noticed Gen-Gen and a pair of maids ing into the courtyard with a table between them and some trays. The butler helped the maids set up while another pair came over with some folding chairs ahem up around the table.

  “Miss Bunch, Miss Albatross, your lun is ready,” Gen-Gen said. “I have sent word to Miss Bristlee as well, she should be joining you soon.”

  “Ah, thank you, Gen-Gen,” Amaryllis said as she carefully had her puppet fold down onto the ground in a way that didn’t tip over its bucket of paint. “I was getting a bit hungry.”

  “Indeed,” the butler said. “I should inform you that Miss Rosaline will be arriving soon. She wishes to visit the shopping areas ter in the evening.”

  “Shopping is fun!” I said as I bounced down the dder. Setting my paint and brush dowo Amaryllis’ puppet, I took a moment to myself off then skipped over to the table.

  There was a kettle filled with boiling water, a small sele of teas, and a pte covered in different sorts of sandwiches. The maids bustled about for a bit, pulling out chairs for us and pg fresh ptes around the table, and then--just like that--they were off in a flurry of bd white robes.

  “The staff here are really nice,” I told Amaryllis.

  “They had better be,” she said. “You wouldn’t believe how well-paid they are. It’s ridiculous.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded and picked out a couple of sandwiches. “They have ears and mouths; they could spread secrets. And it’s not unheard of for a servant to poison someone for the right price. So they’re paid well enough that any bribe to get them to betray the would o be astronomical.”

  I nodded along as I pulled the kettle closer and then brought the tea box closer. There were all sorts to pick from, so I went about sniffing them all for the ohat smelled like it would taste the best.

  Awen arrived just as I was stirring the tea. “Have fun?” I asked her.

  She nodded, her hands tangled up in a bit of cloth in an attempt to get some grease off her hands. She obviously didn’t notice the cute little smudge right oip of her nose, and I elected not to tell her until I had finished with the tea.

  “Milk, sugar, cream?” I asked.

  The girls told me what they wanted and I prepared three cups with a bit of a flourish.

  gratutions! Through repeated as your Tea Making skill has improved and is now eligible for rank up!Rank D is a free rank!

  “Oh! Tea Making has ranked up,” I said as I sat back down.

  “That’s handy,” Awen said.

  Amaryllis sipped her cup. “I suppose it is. You really ought to i in some non-plebeian skills.”

  “I’m w on i--”

  Bing Bong! gratutions, your Wondernder css has reached level 2Mana +5Flexibility +5You have gained: One Css PointYou have unlocked: One Css Skill Slot

  I blihen shivered as the little pulse of level-up joy coursed through me. “Oh,” I said.

  RavensDagger