i decided that i should not let my inate fear of finishing things keep this lovely boardfic in dormancy.

so i'm going to start writing it again.

be excited.

I woke up with sand in my ears. And in my hair, and my nose, and my pants. I only had one sock on, and it was wet. All of me was wet, come to that. Wet and itchy, and full of sand. My mind absorbed these details carefully, trying to find an appropriate shelf on which to store them. To my horror it found all the shelves empty, and even the librarian missing. I sat up and looked out at the tide coming in.

I'm on a beach, I thought. 'I'm on a beach,' I announced to the seagulls. 'I'm on a beach and it's cold and I don't know who I am!'

With some difficulty I got up, shivering in the coastal wind. Luckily I did succeed in locating both of my boots, but not the other sock. I tried to rinse the one I had out in the tide, but this only resulted in my sock and my trousers and my hands getting rather muddy. The tide was trying to push me out of its way. It started to rain. Shoving my sandy toes into my sand-filled boots, I ran for the trees above the shore.

To its credit, the forest was in a small way shelter from the wind and rain, but it was dark, damp, and it smelled terrible.

I made myself relatively comfortable beneath the fronds of an enormous bush. It was drier and warmer down here, if dirtier, and I unbuttoned my soggy coat and wriggled out of it, dislodging much sand and a few crawly things, which I grimaced at and shooed away. Everything in my wallet that wasn't a muddy coin was a mass of dissolving paper mush and runny ink. I looked through the rest of my pockets and found some rusted nail clippers, a broken key chain, also rusted, and a book. It was small, wet, and falling apart. The cover said T oly Boo f O in gold lettering, and I could just make out the embossed letters h, e, H, k, o, and m where the gold had once been but no longer remained. The contents were unreadable. The leather cover was bent and stained with ink and the pages soaked to lumpy pieces. I put it back in my coat pocket and tried to clean the gritty muck from under my fingernails.

'I w-w-wonder if I c-c-c-c-could sss-s-ss-st-t-t-tt-start a fire,' I said, finding comfort in my new habit of talking to myself. Maybe, once it stopped raining.... I looked up at the sky and its deceptively warm-looking thickness and I knew that it would never stop raining. The clouds looked like they were going to swallow the land up and digest it and poor me in the heighths of its cold bowels. I scowled at the weather. I scowled at my boots as I took them off and poured forth mounds of sand and shells. I scowled at my soggy toes. I scowled at my soggy coat as I pulled it over my knees. I shivered and rubbed my hands over my arms.

And then I heard a moan and a loud, rickety laugh. I stood up, not wanting to share the night in a dark wood with some unknown lunatic. A short walk in the direction of the outburst revealed beyond the trees a grubby figure sitting in a shallow puddle, holding a llama on the end of a rope. He was talking in a deep whisper. My eyes widened and the llama stopped in mid-sentence to look up at me.

I felt it necessary to say something. 'I.....' I began. 'I'm hungry,' I blurted, suddenly distracted by my grumbling stomach. I looked around absently, not knowing what to say anymore. The llama was still staring at me. The man--no, boy, I decided--next to him was twiddling a stick in his puddle of mud; I don't think he knew I was standing there.

The llama spoke. 'Don't worry, there'll be pie once the rain slows up. You like plaid, do you?' he asked, nodding pointedly at my clothing. I looked down at it myself and opened my mouth to make a few non-commital ums followed by a gaping pause and a blank look. He went on, 'Not many girls could pull off those trousers with that shirt. But on you, and with that belt, it looks... right. Though,' he paused and blinked, considering my attire thoughtfully, 'probably the sand helps.'

The only thing I ended up saying in response to this was, 'Who are you?' I wasn't sure if llamas normally possessed such powers of articulation, but I didn't much care. After all, if this was just a dream so much the better---I'd be glad to wake up beneath a warm, dry, and clean comforter.

'Brad. Brad the wonder llama. And who might you be?'

I had no answer to that, and anyway ignored it and focused on the much more interesting bit about wonder llamas. 'Wonder llama?' I said skeptically. He looked anything but wondrous. Wet, yes, and slightly forlorn because of this, but not very awe-inspiring. As I was raising my eyebrows in question to the creature's status as 'wonder llama,' the filthy figure in the puddle stood up and introduced himself.

'My name,' he said, extending his hand drippingly for me to shake, 'is Hermes. You don't know who you are, do you?'

I was surprised at his insight, and could only shake my head in silent astonishment. He nodded in a sympathetic way and went on. 'Happened to all of us. Most of us, I mean. Not Brad. Brad says it's the water... lethal, or ...leaky.... something like that, he called it. He says it's best to just eat the pie.'

'Pie?' I wondered aloud. 'What pie?'

'You'll see, Plaid,' the llama told me. 'Let's get out of this rain, shall we?'

He proceeded to lead the man holding the end of his rope through a gap in the trees, deeper into the woods. I followed them, thinking about food, wondering about pie, and almost forgetting all about the coat and boots I had left under a bush. Luckily I remembered these before too long, and, smiling because I could remember at least this, shouted, 'Wait! My boots--' and ducked back through the trees to find them. The wonder llama couldn't expect me to tramp through soggy underbrush with bare feet, could he?

Re-donning the boots and the heavy wet coat, I rejoined my new friends and we re-commenced our march. Nobody said anything until we reached a makeshift doorway of driftwood and cardboard. Hermes went up to it and shifted it away from the entrance to a cave. The air inside felt warm and we all hurried in out of the rain.

Once Hermes shut the door the rain's patter faded into a soft hum. Brad the wonder llama led us through the black interior of an underground passage. The floor was strewn with sand, which was damp in some places but for the most part dry and much warmer than the beach outside. The air smelled heavenly. My stomach continued to grumble and I began seeing hallucinations of food in the darkness. I couldn't see the llama or Hermes, but I felt their presences just ahead of me and followed the sounds of hooves and flopping sandals.

It was only a few minutes before we reached a large, dimly lit room where a few dozen people were congregated. As we entered some of them looked up and gave a 'hiya' to Brad and Hermes. A few of them glanced at me curiously, some of them smiled. I was intent on taking in the space before me. There were incense burners all over the place. They were shelves made of driftwood in the corners, log benches all around the room, and on the stone wall opposite the entrance there were a multitude of paintings and sketches merging into a very detailed, very colorful, very chaotic and dominating mural.

'Nice place, this is. I've only been here three days and I'm getting along fine,' Hermes said. He took my elbow and brought me into the center of the room. Brad whistled loudly (I'm really not sure how he, as a llama, accomplished this, but he did it very expertly) and the room fell silent.

'Brad calls this young lady Plaid, on account of she's wearing quite a lot of it,' Hermes introduced me briefly to the crowd.

'Do any of you ladies have an extra set of clothes she could use? I expect you want a dry set of clothes, Plaid?' Brad asked.

'Well, yeah...if...' I mumbled.

'I do, Brad,' one girl volunteered. 'Nothing in plaid,' she said to me, 'but if you want to I'll let you borrow them until yours dry out.'

I smiled in thanks and followed her.

'I was lucky,' the girl continued, 'I washed up on shore with most of my luggage. I've got three or four days worth of clothes and a bottle of shampoo. Which is very nice to have, let me tell you, though I do have to use it sparingly. There isn't much left.'

'How long have you been here?' I asked. We were descending a tight, disjointed spiral staircase cut into the sandy soil.

'I don't know anymore, it's been a long time. I don't remember anything from before I came here, so as far as my memory's concerned I've been here forever. Oh---you can call me Buzzfloyd, by the way. Brad didn't know what he should call me, so he let me choose my own name. I like the sound of Buzzfloyd.'

'So Brad gives you all names? What makes him the one in charge?'

At the bottom of the staircase was a door, and as buzzfloyd opened it she looked at me. 'Well, why not? He is the one that brought us here and shared the pie of Ba with us. He's a very good llama, you know.'

'I guess so,' I said, since he had been nice to me. We were now proceeding through a dark, sloped corridor. 'Hey, what is all this pie everyone keeps mentioning?'

Buzzfloyd turned off into a room and pulled a curtain away from the small window. It was still raining, I could see.

'Well,' she began, sitting down on the floor, 'I think you'd better just wait and see for yourself. You'll enjoy it. I never get sick of pie, and I've been eating it for as long as I can remember.'

The room we were in had actual walls, made of brick. There was a row of porcelain sinks along one side of the room and across from them a rack of some sort, upon which were hung a collection of clothes. Buzzfloyd told me to pick whatever I thought would fit me and that I could change behind one of the doors there.

Upon investigation I realized we were in a public washroom. Buzzfloyd had hung her entire wardrobe over the fronts of the stalls. I peeled my soaking, dirty clothes off and thankfully donned Buzzfloyd's clean, dry jeans and a wooly jumper while the two of us chatted about how much it usually rained and what kind of pie she was guessing we'd get once it stopped.

'Do you have a favourite kind of pie?' she asked.

'I don't remember,' I admitted as we retraced our steps.

There was an argument going on when we reached the room full of incense. At least it seemed like an argument to me. There was a tall figure berating a shorter humble looking one and everyone was crowded around, watching and murmuring.

The taller guy spoke. 'This is all your fault, Nester,' he said sternly, almost shouting. 'You were on Fred duty this week. He could have died in that mess! What do you have to say for yourself?!'

Nester cowered, fearful, and appologized in a trembling voice.

'Saying sorry won't help you. The entire dining hall is wrecked, and it's all because of you!'

At this point Buzzfloyd gasped and pushed her way into the crowd to find out the details. I heard bits of conversation: '..was awful..' '...just collapsed on him...' '...yeah, good thing Orrdos came, thank Ba...' '...thrown in the yak pit for sure...'

I wondered who Fred was. And what had happened to him. And what could be so bad about a pit full of yaks? I looked around for Brad, hoping to ask him to explain things, but he was nowhere to be found.

Someone yelled, 'Do a quickmatch, Doors! Yak pit or the big Garner!'

'Or the zombies!' someone else added.

The man I presumed was called 'Doors' looked thoughtful and then nodded.

'That's the way it will be decided. Nester, stand up.' The nervous man did so, and Doors continued. 'Even if you did neglect my elephant in a most serious way, I will let you vote first.'

The crowd giggled as Doors gave Nester a choice between the yak pit, the volcano, and the river of zombies, describing each in careful detail. Nester squirmed and flinched, trying to shut his eyes to the images of filthy, smelly yaks, and sharp, icy flames, and eerie, slippery, silently grasping ghosts... Everyone grew quiet as they watched him weighing the options in his mind.

'Come on,' Doors prodded him. 'You've got fifteen seconds. Decide, so everyone else can vote.'

Nester sighed and mumbled his choice dejectedly. Doors wrote it down on the back of a large palm leaf and told everyone to wait their turn and not try and vote all at once.

[b:3e78eb382d]middle, further middle, etc.[/b:3e78eb382d]

Orrdos left Nester to squirm for two days while the voting went on. He sat in on a log under the mural and muttered to himself about his stupidity in neglecting Fred, watching as one by one the others added tally marks to the palm leaf, and altogether looking very forlorn and hopeless. I felt sorry for him.

'Hey,' I called to a passing redhead, 'what did he do wrong, anyway?'

She looked at me curiously for a minute. 'Oh, that's right, you're new... Plaid, isn't it?'

I nodded, somewhat noncommitally accepting my new name. She went on, 'Well, you should meet Fred. that will be easier than trying to explain it all.' The woman had me follow her through the same passageways I had gone with buzzfloyd. 'Fred is Orrdos's elephant,' she told me. 'Orrdos cares about him a lot, but since he's so busy he can't watch over him all the time, so he gets his friends to help out. We call them 'the doormen,' Rincewind and Colonesque, and Nester too. Nester hasn't had much experience with Fred yet, so it's understandable that he messed it up... but it's a serious offence, neglecting doors's elephant.'

'What will they do to him? Does he really deserve--'

'The Yak Pit? or the Volcano? Well, we wouldn't leave him in very long. Even Orrdos isn't that harsh. And Nester was the cause of all this.'

With those words she forced open a door and we beheld a mess of splintered wood, mangled metal, and broken chunks of brick. There were a few people working among the dirt and rubble, trying to remove the ruins of what must have been picnic tables.

'How is it Nester's fault,' I said slowly, 'if an elephant did this...' I was confused. Anyone who tried to keep an elephant in a small, underground room like this had to expect things to get broken. At least, if an elephant was as big as I thought it was....

'You'll see, you'll see Plaid. Come on,' she said. We carefully made our way through the disaster area to a door on the other side. It led through a kitchen area, which was slightly less of a mess, and then into a halway. This one was well lit, as opposed to the corridor I'd been through with buzzfloyd. My companion went up to one of the many doors lining the hall and knocked.

Orrdos opened it and looked at us questioningly. 'Yes?' he asked.

The redhead smiled politely and explained that I was curious about Fred, and asked if could we please come in and see him, if he was feeling well enough?

'Alright,' he said. 'but be quiet. He's asleep.'

The room into which Orrdos allowed the two of us to pass was cluttered with clothing. In a partitioned corner there was a large blue quilt draped over a snoring elephant. So this is Fred, I thought, staring down at the peaceful-looking mound of ears and trunk and flab. I was amazed that this creature could be the same one who wrecked the room we'd walked through just minutes ago. Fred looked no bigger than the heaps of laundry around him....but he seemed flickery....blurry, almost.

I looked at the two others. They were watching Fred intently, waiting for something. I turned my attention back to the elephant and gasped as it's skin grew pink and then faded back to grey.

'That's Fred,' the girl next to me smiled.

'Does he always do that?' I asked.

'Quite often,' Orrdos told me. 'And that as well,' he said, pointing at Fred. I looked and saw that the elephant was shrinking steadily. the blanket collapsed around him as he diminished into a mere handful of elephantness. I was astonished.

'But.......why?' was all I could think to say.

'That's Fred,' the girl said again, with a slight shrug. 'He can get emormously huge as well. Orrdos has him trained though. He lets us know if he needs to go out.'

Orrdos frowned. 'How is the voting looking, Emma?' he asked her.

'Need you ask? You know the Yak pit is most popular.'

Orrdos shook his head and sat down on a pile of outfits. I was still absorbed in watching Fred shift between opaque purple and a transparent silver while modulating between the size of a baseball and the size of a watermelon.

'You two will stay and have pie down here, won't you? I don't want to leave Fred.'

Emma said, 'Certainly, Doors, we'd be glad to, wouldn't we, Plaid?'

I didn't answer until I felt them both looking at me. 'What?'

'Doors asked us to have pie with him and Fred. Is that alright with you?'

Remembering pie made me remember how hungry I was. I said, 'Sure,' and tore my eyes away from the bizzare elephant. 'When are we having it?'

'After the rain stops. Probably soon,' Emma said.

'What kind do you think it'll be today?' Orrdos said by way of filling the silence.

'Well, Samantha dreamed about coconuts after her trip to The Words last night. I hate coconut pie though....I'm hoping for apple.'

'Apple... yeah, we haven't had apple for a few weeks. The lemon merangue a few days ago was wonderful. I love lemon merangue.'

'You know the kind we never have--chocolate. I pray to Ba for chocolate all the time and he only gives it to us once in a blue moon.'

'But there are sprinkles, remember. Ba giveth sprinkles liberally unto them that are faithful.'

'Sprinkles?' I said, interrupting their conversation.

'Not as good as regular chocolate pie, Plaid,' Emma told me, 'but they go great with almost all the other kinds of pie.'

'How many kinds are there?' I was intrigued by all this talk of pie, and almost dying to know what it was like.

'Oh, probably an infinite number. Ba is all-powerful, after all.'

Ah, it's all coming back to me now.

*wipes tear from eye*

And I can demand more knowing that there will be.

'That's another thing--who is this Ba person? Do I get to meet him?'

Emma shook her head, 'Only a few of us have ever met the Ba. Sometimes there are messages in the pie, but we never actually see the Ba. Doors has,' she nodded in his direction and he tried to look modest.

'But, who exactly is he?' I repeated.

'Ba is the god of Pie, of course. Or more officially, Ba Witda, God of Unspeakable Culinary Acts and Pie.' Orrdos saw me about to ask more questions and continued to explain, 'No one knows about the unspeakable culinary acts. We don't talk about them...'unspeakable,' see? but the Pie of Ba sustains all life on this island. And any who fail to worship the Ba risks the Ba's wrath and torture by thunderspork.'

I was silent for a moment while Orrdos rummaged around beneath a tangle of socks, and then asked 'What on earth is a thunderspork?'

He was prepared, and held up a plastic spork for my perusal. 'Imagine one of these,' he said, 'made of black, firey lightning, falling out of the clouds. Ba uses them to curse the wicked.'

I swallowed nervously and wondered if he was merely trying to frighten me. 'Really?' I looked at Emma, who smiled and put her hand on my shoulder.

'Not very often,' she said. 'The Ba's thundersporks are an extreme measure for the extremely wicked.'

'Like...like who?' I needed an example. 'Has it really happened to someone before? Have you actually seen--'

'It happens,' Doors said seriously. 'Believe me, it happens. Not always where we can see it. Believe in thundersporks, Plaid.'

Nobody spoke for a while after that, and questions kept piling up in my mind. I fiddled with the plastic spork and tried to ignore my grumbling stomach. Fred was oscillating between various sizes and colors beneath his quilt. As I watched he turned navy, and sand coloured, and then grey again. I listened to the rain on the windows, hoping it would stop soon.

All three of us looked toward the door as the sound of footsteps--wait, no, they were hooves clicking on the floor outside. It must be Brad, I thought. Orrdos moved to the door, and just as he predicted, the visitor stopped outside it and shouted that he didn't want to head-but the door, so could someone just open it for him?

[b:1c2f43539a]some more[/b:1c2f43539a]

Brad came in and kicked his way past what looked like a hockey mask and some long, pink tights which were tangled up in the doorway.

'I just heard what happened. Fred's alright I see. Good. Hi Plaid, I see you've met Emma. Alright, Emma?'

After Emma nodded and smiled at the llama there was a pause before Brad continued. 'I've come about the Sock Wars, as you might have expected. It's that time again and I've just sent Hermes to find Captain Malory or one of his crew and read them our proposals. I'll need you to take up your post as usual, are you prepared?'

All this was to Orrdos, who looked somewhat grave and merely nodded in response. Brad went on, 'You know how important this is. By the great almighty Ba I need you to pull through like last time. Are you sure you can do it?'

'I can. You know I can,' Orrdos said, smiling a little.

I leaned over to Emma and said, 'What are they talking about?'

She waited until Brad was satisfied with Orrdos's commitment to the cause and then began to explain The Sock Wars, with brief interruptions once in a while from Doors, who busied himself moving laundry around in an attempt to organize the room.

Emma thought for a moment before deciding how best to begin. First, she solicited Doors' help in pinpointing the precise origin of the Sock Wars. After acknowledging that they had begun some time before her arrival on the island she went on something like this:

'The Sock Wars are a tradition we have. I've been told that no one knows how it started, but everyone has stories...and Brad might actually know and just not want to tell us.
'Anyway, how the annual sock--'

'Actually it's not annual, Emma. We don't keep track of the months or years, you know that. It's just whenever Brad or Mal feels like it.'

Emma rolled her eyes at Orrdos and went on, 'He's right, but anyway--how the sock wars usually go is like this: either Brad or Mal---Captain Malory is his formal title, but we call him Mal, like Brad tells us to think of him as Brad the Wonder Llama, but everyone just calls him Brad--- either Brad or Mal will send out the invitation--the 'war' proposal I guess they call it. That's the signal to prepare for the sock wars. We all have about a fortnight to get ready. Maljonic's always coming up with new strategies to get at our socks. And he's got an advantage...none of his crew have ever drunk the ocean water. And they have their ship. They also have more socks than we do. But Brad is determined to beat them again like we did last year--'

Orrdos coughed here and Emma rolled her eyes again.

'I know it might not have been an actual year ago, Doors, but isn't it logical? Having annual Sock Wars makes sense to me. We have them regularly enough to set a calandar by.'

Orrdos ignored this and walked into the closet with an armload of laundry. Emma turned back to me and lowered her voice.

'Honestly, nobody around here takes the sock wars very seriously--'

'Listen!' I stood up and went to the window. 'Has it stopped raining?' I'd been concentrating on the dripping sounds for several minutes. Hungry, and trying with all my might to will the rain to cease, hoping against hope, praying to whoever and wherever the great Ba might be, I pulled back the curtain and tried to ascertain whether or not the drops I saw falling were actual raindrops or merely drips from the leaves hanging above. 'Come look,' I said to Emma. 'Do you think it's stopped?'

Somewhat startled by this outburst she joined me at the window and peered out. 'It definitely has slowed up a little. You must be starving. Don't worry, the pie will come in its own time.'

Suddenly Orrdos shouted from the closet, 'Hold on, I can't hear you properly. I'll be right there.'

Emma swiveled around to look down where Fred had been sleeping. He was now awake and looking very refreshed. Emma smiled down at the roughly tiger-sized elephant and told him she hoped he was feeling better. I remained silent and tried not to stare impolitely at the polka-dots sprouting all over his white-ish skin.

Orrdos, after a brief fight with a few hockey sticks and a straw hat, emerged from the closet with a large blue sock stuck on his ear. He looked at Fred expectantly for a moment, then nodded a few times. His gaze then transfered to me. It was intent. My face grew warm and I let my eyes wander, avoiding his look.

'Fred, are you sure?' he asked, still looking at me. Emma, curious, had now turned and added her gaze to that of Orrdos. I backed slightly away from them both.

'I'll go get the Doormen, they have to know---' Orrdos had his hand on the knob of the door and then turned back to Fred. In the silence Emma and I looked on as some seriously weird form of communication went on between the elephant, who was now a pastel green, and the guy standing on the other side of the room.

Orrdos looked at Fred and furrowed his brow, letting go of the doorknob. 'Well...' he said. 'Well, you are right about that. But--'

There was another pause and all eyes were on Fred once more. Doors shook his head. 'Of course, okay. Okay, we'll wait. We'll wait. How long, though?'

Again, the rain dripped perforation into the silence.

'That long, Fred? Will it really take that long? I don't think---'

Then the pie came. I don't know how. I didn't care how. Emma and Doors both whispered a brief 'thanks be to Ba' before they took out their sporks and ate, but I simply devoured the pie. I don't even remember what kind it was, or what it tasted like. I just remember being ravenous and cramming pie into my mouth like my life depended on it.

Afterwards I fell asleep and dreamed about sporks......all different colors of sporks.....


---------------------------------------


I woke up in the dark. The room was empty and I'd been covered Fred's blue quilt. I rolled over and went back to sleep.

The voice of Orrdos woke me up in the morning. He said, 'Plaid, get up. There's something Brad needs to ask you about.'

I murmured sleepily and rolled my face into quilt. Brad's voice was louder, from the hallway outside, 'Quick, this is important!'

I sat up and scowled. 'What?' I groaned, still tired and slightly achey.

Orddos took my hand to pull me up. 'Come on, it shouldn't take long.'

Out in the corridor Brad took one look at my bare feet and sighed disappointedly. 'You don't have any socks?'

I looked at him dumbly for a minute and then mumbled, 'I...did have one... but it's ....full of wet sand...and I left it with my other clothes ....somewhere else. Why?'

'Emma told me she explained the sock wars to you.'

I started to feel kind of guilty at this point, for not having a decent pair of socks and for not having listened very carefully--okay, not really at all--to what Emma had been going on about the day before. Brad was looking rather disdainfully at me. I mumbled some more about how yes, she had, kind of....but...

Brad didn't care much and went on, 'How do you feel about,' he lowered his voice, 'spying?'

'Spying? On...who...?'

'We'll get to that. Are you willing, is the question.'

'Um--' I said, looking at Orrdos helplessly.

'He's asking you because you're new. Unknown to the enemy, still annoymous. All you need to do is---'

Brad cut Doors off. 'We will get to the details later. If you're not willing, we needn't bother. If you don't care to be a spy for us you can just stay here and be decoy with the other ....conscientious objectors. Which is it Plaid? Quick, Hermes will be back --'

'You might want to check with Sam before you ask Plaid here to join her in decoyism--' Orrdos interrupted, earning an impatient glare from the llama. 'All I'm saying is it might be a good idea to check with her before hand, that's all I'm saying.'

With that he wandered away down the corridor. Brad, after reluctantly considering Doors' words, turned back to me and resumed his demands. 'Stay or go, Plaid? Tell me now.'

I flipped a mental coin and said I'd go, I guess.

'Great, come with me.' He led the way through further corridors and rooms, mostly dark and quiet. 'You'll need your own clothes, hopefully Buzzfloyd hasn't washed them yet. I want you and Hermes to go together. You can work out an act on your own, but really, all you need to do is plead ignorance. Washed up amnesiacs are common enough, the Captain won't suspect a thing. Don't let on that you know me or anyone on the island. Don't talk about socks, don't wear any socks, for that matter.'

We met buzzfloyd in the stairwell. 'Plaid!' she said cheerfully, 'Plaid, Samantha and I were just going to take our washing up to the lake, do you want to come with us? We could use your help and you'll want to meet Medley and the rest of the girls.'

'Actually, we don't want Plaid's clothes washed yet. She's going to be undertaking an important mission for me, and she'll need to look a mess. And I don't want her meeting anyone else before she goes. It'll just make things more difficult. We were just coming to find you. Would you fetch those clothes for us? I've got to meet Hermes.'

Without waiting for buzzfloyd to answer Brad climbed up the rest of the stairs and made his way through the cave and tunnels back out to the woods. I followed as closely as I could.

Hermes was waiting for us with a large envelope. 'I found the good captain and he's signed it, Brad,' he announced. 'What next?'

'Good man,' Brad said approvingly--whether of Hermes or of the Captain I wasn't sure. Brad explained our mission as spies to Hermes. Hermes lit up, excited as anything. I stood looking rather dumb and apathetic as Brad lectured at us.

'It'll take a bit of doing to get you ready. I want you both in your original clothes, Hermes get all the paint stains off your hands. Don't comb your hair. I suppose I can't make you skip Pie for the next few days, but at least pretend to be starving and bewildered when you meet the crew, alright? I'm going to get Pat to fix it so you can communicate with Orrdos and I from Malory's ship. It may or may not actually work, but we're going to give it a shot this time. We'll need every advantage we can scrounge up. The most important thing is you cannot let on you know anything, so I hope you can all play dumb. Ask as many questions as you like, all in the spirit of genuine curiosity. Anything they tell you, write down. You'll start out early tomorrow. Make your way to the shore--I'll point out the best place later today--go down there before sunrise, split up, and wander aimlessly until you're found. Hermes will...oh no---Hermes, the Captain will recognize you, now that you've seen him. Stupid stupid stupid. Why didn't I think!? Plaid--I'm really--'

Hermes looked shocked and mumbled, 'You mean--I can't--I have to stay here?'

'What? I have to go alone now?' I didn't think so. Not without knowing a bit more about what was going on. 'Brad--'

'I'm afraid not Hermes. Plaid, I'm really--there's nobody else who could...'

'Wait.' Hermes was pacing, looking thoughtful. 'I'll have to check my painting supplies, but I could...yes. I'll be right back Brad. don't worry. Plaid, no worries.'

He ran off. I looked at Brad and worked up enough courage to be demanding. Before he could open his mouth I said, 'Tell me what this is all about Brad. Sock Wars? Who is this Captain Malory? What on earth is going on?'

'I'd like to know the same thing,' he muttered, staring after Hermes.

'Brad! I want you to explain it all. I need to know what I'm getting myself into!'

'Calm down, Plaid.' Brad paced a little, looking at the ground. 'It's just a tradition, Emma should have explained that to you. Harmless competition between Malory and I. He started it.' He paused and scratched his left side against a boulder. 'Honestly, Plaid, I don't think I ought to tell you more. It won't help you decieve Malory's crew if you know too much.'

'You don't think I can fake ignorance? How hard can it be?' I went into dumb-female mode and knelt to look Brad in the eye. 'Oh, Brad, what's all this talk about Pie? I don't understand it. Oh, Brad, what's that you're doing with socks, won't you be so kind as to explain it to me? Brad, you darling llama, can you tell me where exactly I am?'

He and I both looked suitably disgusted. Llama breath. Ick.

'You needn't go that far,' he said angrily. Casual, curious, but overall innocent questions ought to just work fine.'

I ignored him and pushed further. 'The more information I have the better I can serve your purpose. If you'd just be specific, I'd know what you want to know from them and how to get it.'

He looked skeptical. Hermes returned, running, breathing hard. His clothes were recognizable but his face and hair were covered with paint. Every inch of his skin was decorated with thin multi-colored lines, spots, zig-zags, and spirals.

'No one will know it's me now, right?'

'And no one will believe you just washed up on shore with all that paint either!' I stood up and looked Hermes up and down incredulously. I was beginning to think this was a waste of my time. 'Brad, what on earth is the point, may I ask? What's so important!?'

'But I can--it's waterproof paint--'

'I don't know why I even bother. You're both too new, you don't understand...'

'If you'd just explain it to us we might stand a chance.'

'See, see, it doesn't come off. I put three and a half layers on. I--'

'Hermes shut up!' I glared and saw his face fall. I felt sorry but said nothing. Brad, after a dragged out silence, spoke first.

'It'll work Hermes. I'll find a hat for you and then you'll look perfect. If you want, and this will be your own decision, I don't care whether you do it or not, you can swallow a bit more of the ocean and then we'll really be safe. You won't remember where you got the paint, you may not know who you are, but Plaid will be there. Plaid, you'll wear your plaid outfit. You'll drag your feet through the tide a few times to reconstitute the image of complete castaway, you'll wander around, stumble upon Hermes. Forget his name. Forget your name. Let Malory's crew find you and take you aboard. Find a way to make sure you stay together for the most part. Don't say anything dangerous, nothing about socks, nothing about Malory's ear, nothing about the ship or the food or the crew. Absolutely no complaining, or you'll risk getting yourself thrown overboard. As for what you're trying to find out...
'I'm not sure what to expect from Malory this time. I'll get Pat to review the history of the Sock Wars with you later on. She knows everything. All I can really tell you is to keep your ears open. Let us know any of their plans, any sock-related discussion, anything. Come back inside. Hermes, remind me to find you a hat. Remember what I said about the ocean and let me know what you decide. Plaid, you will be alright handling Hermes if he...?'

'I suppose so...' I looked at Hermes. He grinned briefly. In fact, if I poured the water down his throat he might be easier to deal with...

'Come back inside,' Brad ordered. Hermes and I followed him as he continued rambling. 'We've only got one day to sort this all out. I need you to talk to Pat. Hermes, you don't have to unless you decide to keep your memory. Decide quick. Plaid, please try and pay attention to what Pat tells you. You never know what you might need to know later on. While you're talking to her I'll get your clothes from buzzfloyd...'

I stopped listening at this point. It had all become rather too surreal. Me, a spy? Me? Well, alright, for all I knew I might be a spy. A spy with no memory.

Hermes tripped and stumbled into Brad, who began shouting at him.

When we reached the incense room it was largely empty. Nester, who was asleep and snoring, was still sitting against the wall and I wondered briefly how this whole sock war thing would affect him. If I ever got a chance I'd ask Orrdos. I was curious about the Yak Pit. Morbidly curious. Much too curious to want to miss it.

Buzzfloyd came up the stairs just then and spotted Brad. 'I've been looking for you guys. I have Plaid's clothes,' she held them out to me. 'Are you sure they can't be washed? They're still full of sand.'

I took my clothes and really hoped Brad wouldn't make me put them on until much later. Luckily he was ignoring me and my clothes and began pestering buzzfloyd for information.

'Where's Pat?'

Buzzfloyd began to say, 'Down in her---

'Would you mind taking Plaid down to see her? Tell her you need to know about the Sock Wars, Plaid. Thanks buzzfloyd. Now Hermes, I need your decision--'

buzzfloyd looked at me and we both went down the staircase. 'I'm never going to find a moment's peace to get laundry done today. Brad gets so worked up about the Sock Wars I almost can't stand it. Hopefully it'll be over soon. Here. This is Pat's study. Just knock and she'll let you in. I've got to run, but I'll see you later Plaid.'

I stood, intimidated, before the door to Pat's room. After a while I knocked. Hermes must have decided to go spying without a clue, which was fine by me. I only hoped he wouldn't prove difficult to handle.

It was a long while before anyone answered. My first glimpse of the room was through a puff of green smoke and a slightly burnt smell.

'You're just in time for pie,' the woman said. 'Come in and sit down.'

I did so, carefully setting my bundle of damp clothes down on the floor. 'Brad sent me, to learn about the sock wars. He's making me a spy. Oh, they call me Plaid.'

The woman I assumed was Pat was looking at her watch. 'Four.....Three....Two.....'

She was right on. No one had told me you could predict the appearance of pie. Maybe it came regularly. This morning's pie was rhubarb, which is sticky and a bit on the sweet side. but it was warm and filling, so I couldn't complain.

'The Sock Wars, eh?' she said, in between bites of pie. 'I guess old brad's getting a bit restless again. Well, one moment while I give Hex and Igor a few instructions. excuse me.'

She squeezed sideways between two huge bookcases at the back of the room and disappeared. The room was full of bookcases. They weren't full of books, but mostly papers, in stacks, in folders, in paper clips. There was a desk in the middle and surprisingly nice wooden chairs, covered with fine carvings. I was sitting in one with my plate of pie, looking around at the room. It was small, but well enough lit. I wondered how long this was going to take.

She came back through the same space she'd left, shouting to unseen persons to 'Be careful with that mixture, it might be strong enough to eat through Hex's wires! Test it before you try and move the cauldron. Carefully!'

Retaking her seat across the desk from me she smiled an intelligent, friendly smile. 'So you're Plaid. Igor mentioned we had a few new ones....Hermes, he said the other guy was.'

I nodded. 'Brad says we've only got one day to get ready.'

She nodded, opening a drawer and taking out a small booklet of folded papers. 'There are, no doubt, things he doesn't want you to know. That's why I will use the unlabelled map.'

Spread out on the desk was an arrangement of disconnected cartography. She wasted no time.

'This,' she pointed to the volcano near the center of the island, 'is the Great Garner. There are cliffs all along this the west side of the island. In the past Captain Mal has anchored beneath them. No one's been able to scale the cliffs, they're usually too slippery.'

'Where are we on this map?' I asked.

'Beneath these hills in the southwestern lee of the Garner. The whole building was buried in the last eruption, roughly thirty or so years before--'

'Orrdos told me they don't keep track of the years. How do y--'

'Well, no one else does care about the years. I am a scientist, and very interested in the history and composition of this island. I take measurements and records of almost everything. Thirty years ago,' she continued, 'we estimate the Garner erupted and covered more than a third of the island. That isn't so important, but Mal may mention the volcano and you'll need to know what he's talking about.
'Now, up here, on the north coast, is the Bay.'

I followed her finger as it circled an indent at the top of the map.

Pat went on. I tried not to look bored. 'The shore is pebbley and there aren't many trees, but Malory has used it before as a base. From there they have quick access to the sea and their ship, Catface, as well as--'

'Catface?'

'Yes, Catface. If you get the chance, ask Mal about it, its a great story. But,' she looked serious, almost threatening, 'Do not, on any circumstances, mention his ear. Don't even look at it.'

I did not dare ask why.

[b:0a05e11b81]is Plaid ever going to get on with the spying already?[/b:0a05e11b81]

I looked down at the map, rather confused and wondering how I'd got into this predicament. 'Is that there...' I pointed and peered at the page. 'Is this a lake?'

'It is. But the karst is out of bounds for both sides, because I haven't had a chance to explore it or determine if its safe yet. And besides...well, I doubt Brad wants to confuse you with that. Forget about the lake. You'll most likely get to meet... well, just forget the lake, okay? Concentrate on the task at hand. You'll need to be very careful.'

Pat went on a bit more about Mal using the Bay as a base of opperations, telling me about the landscape on the north side and where brad was going to take me to accidentally run into the crew.

'What if they don't find me? I can't really go looking for them, can I?'

'They'll find you. Brad's going to ask Sam and some others to take you to The Words for good luck. They'll make sure you get picked up by Catface, don't worry.'

'The...Words...?' I looked questioning.

'I'll let the others explain that to you. We've got more to cover here.'

She pointed out the stretch of woods along the shore and where it was thickest, the reef a few miles to the east, and told me to be prepared to stay on board the ship for at least a week or so. Telling me to try and commit most of the map to memory and at the same time forget half of its components, she disappeared again into some mysterious back room. I licked the sugary rhubarb goo off my spork and twiddled my fingers, waiting.

When she returned Pat was carrying a cardboard box with wires and string sticking out of it. She set it down on the desk and motioned for me to look inside. It was a gerbil, crawling around among the mess of wood shavings, old cloth, and random bits of other stuff.

'Her name's Blue. You'll have to keep her quiet and remember to feed her, but this is the only way we can keep in contact with you.'

I looked skeptical. 'Wh--How?'

'Hold on a minute. Hex!' she hollered back, 'Bring the contraption out here, quick!' Turning back to me and picking up the gerbil gently, she sighed. 'Brad's going to want you ready for anything. I'll give you blue and her contraption---Hex! hurry it up!---and also a few weapons. By all means keep them from being found. Mal will recognize them, and there's nothing I can do about it once he knows Brad sent you.'

A metal plated....girl, I guess...walked stiffly in through the space between the bookcases. She was carrying something small. 'Bring it here Hex, please. Thank you. Take this box back to Igor now. Good Hex.'

I watched in mild amazement as the metal-girl retreated into the back room with the box the gerbil had been in. How weird...

Pat coughed and redirected my attention to the contraption in her hands. She somehow inserted the gerbil into it and set it down on the desk. It whirred.

Pat and I stared at the thing for a while. It continued to whir and shift uneasily around on the desk. She poked at it, tweaking bits of metal here and there, muttering to herself. 'It worked just this morning, Igor tested it five times...'

'What's it supp--'

'Ah ha!' The contraption had unfolded a pair of small wings and was endeavoring to take off. It couldn't get up enough speed and just rolled off the desk into a bookcase. Pat cursed. 'Alright! I know Brad won't like this but we don't have to tell him. Come with me.'

I was confused but I couldn't see what else I could do but follow. Pat grabbed the winged gerbil thing and went through the space between the bookcases in the corner. I squeezed around the desk, trying not to knock things over or make a mess of her stacks of paper, and followed her.

It was a room much more similar to the others I'd been in down here, all white brick. There were cabinets all around the walls, and tables pushed together down the center of the room.

'Try not to get too curious, Plaid. Brad would kill me if he thought you knew about---' she trailed off and looked suspiciously at me.

I tried my hardest to remain dutifully uninquisitive. There were racks of smoking, bubbling liquids, stands displaying motionless, stuffed wildlife, and scattered papers everywhere. The metal-girl Hex was messing with something sticky-sounding and red further down the row of tables.

Pat shouted for Igor. He came out of a closet at the end of the room, carrying glass containers of all shapes and sizes. After setting them carefully down on the counter, he introduced himself.

'We are Igorth,' he said, extending his hand. 'We're from Nebrathka.'

From the look on Pat's face I gathered that she didn't know where Nebraska was either. Or why he talked about himself in the plural. I shook his hand and smiled a confused but friendly smile.

'They call me Plaid, nice to meet you...Igor.'

Pat directed our attention back to the still-whirring contraption in her hands. 'Igor, go get the runway set up. Plaid needs to know how this thing's supposed to work. You won't have me there to do it for you. Pay attention.'

Once he'd cleared off a long stretch of table and set up a small wedge-shaped jump at the end of it, Pat set the metal thing down and poked it.

'See the blue button, between those shiny knobs, there? You have to push it hard.' She poked it again and gave the ball of metal a nudge. 'There it goes. All you need is a flat stretch and a little bit of height to get her going...'

We watched the thing make its way, gathering speed, down the table. When it hit the jump its wings flapped violently and it flew straight up and hit the frame of the door.

'Don't worry,' Pat said. 'It's a durable contraption. Blue's not hurt, is she Igor? It'll be fine. Do you think you've got it Plaid?'

'I guess so...'

'Good. Here, you try it once and then we'll be through. Oh, and let me find you the gerbil food, one minute...'

Igor handed me the thing. I looked at it wonderingly, but decided against asking how they'd done it. She probably wouldn't tell me.

Taking it to the end of the table I positioned it facing the runway and then pushed the blue button as hard as I could. It worked just the same as before, smacking into the doorframe with a clang that echoed.

Pat came up with a small jar and told me to be carefull and not break it if at all possible. 'If you run out,' she advised, 'just pray to Ba. I'm sure gerbils like pie as much as anyone else.'

With that she left the laboratory and I followed her, picking up Blue and her flying machine on my way out. Pat gathered up the map we'd left on the table and sat down. I could hear muffled shouting outside the door. Brad's voice, I was pretty sure.

'Is that it then?'

Pat smiled and nodded. 'Yes. Just, could you nick a few pencils off Mal for me while you're there? Oh, and just tie your messages to Blue's tail. You'll only be able to send it once, so wait until you've got something good, alright? otherwise Brad'll be disappointed, to say the least. You'd better get out there before he gets too impatient.'

I picked up my bundle of clothes. I had to put it and the gerbil-thing down again before I could open the door. Brad's voice got a bit louder.

'--not going to tell you again, Rincewind! You know the rules just like everyone else. They're just too messy and besides that they upset Fred. You've got thirty seconds to get that thing out of here before I decide to tell Orrdos about this!'

A figure in a red bath robe was running frantically down the corridor. It looked like he had a tail.

'Oh,' he said. 'You're finished.' Brad grinned a silly llama grin and begain explaining that Hermes had decided to blah blah blah blah...

I tuned out and thought about what I was getting into. Catface, what a weird name for a ship...and what about his ear? what was so terrible about it? I really did want to see what happened to Nester, I wonder where Orrdos is...I should ask him about it. I was going to have to put on these icky clothes again. What if the whole thing falls apart and I'm found out? Brad would be angry first of all, not to mention this Malory guy. But he can't be as bad as all that, can he? Hermes has met him, after all, and he didn't say anythi---

'Are you listening, Plaid?'

I cleard my throat and said yes very unconvincingly.

[b:b98c89ffa4] chapter y[/b:b98c89ffa4]

I knew Brad didn't believe that for a second, but he went on. I listened somewhat distractedly.

'Walk faster. Samantha and a few of the others are going to take you to the Words, for good luck. After that you'll have the rest of tonight to get ready. I'll get you and Hermes up before sunrise tomorrow.'

He paused and I considered asking him about the Yak Pit or where Orrdos might be. Before I could he went on. 'Are you sure you can do this, Plaid?'

'I thought,' I said, 'that at this point I would have no choice?'

He didn't say anything to that but kept walking. We made our way up the stairs to the room full of incense and approached a small group of people sitting under the muraled wall.

'You haven't met Sam yet, have you?' Brad asked me. I shook my head.

Sam stood up and said, 'Hi, I'm Samantha Vimes. Just call me Sam.'

After shaking my hand and telling me I could leave my things sitting over there on a shelf, she turned back to the group and waited until she had their attention. 'I'd like a vote really quickly, now that plaid's here. Brad, are you coming with us?'

'No, I've got too much to organize. I'll leave now.' He went back downstairs and Sam continued talking.

'I know we usually take the path along the river, but I've recently found another way. It's a bit more rugged, but it's safe. And we won't have to go near the river or the zombie spring at all. It's up to all of you though. Hands up for the old way---'

She paused and no one raised so much as one finger.

'Right then. Let's get going. We'll go out the back way, come on.'

I fell in with the dozen or so people who followed Sam down the staircase and along the dark corridors. We went further into the underground building than I'd been before. Occasionally we passed others coming out of or going into rooms along the way.

After a while the floor, which until now had always sloped generally downward, suddenly sloped the other way. One of the others noticed my stumbling and told me to 'Watch out for the crack there' just a bit too late.

Sam shouted from the front of the group, 'Single file, just like always, be careful.'

At this point we had to climb around a pile of broken, melted bricks and through a small opening in the outer wall of the building. Most of us got rather muddy in the process, since the recent rains had created mudslicks all down the rocky hills outside.

Out in the open it was colder, but the fresh air was lovely. We hiked down the gentle but slightly damp slopes of the hills at a relaxed pace. From up here I could see out over the tops of the trees to the beach, and beyond that the blue water stretching away almost as wide as the sky. I wondered where I must have come from, and why I had ended up here of all places. Wasn't there any way I could find out who I had been?

'You're Plaid, right?' a girl near me asked, coming up to walk next to me.

'That's what they call me, yeah.'

'Hey, it's more interesting than my name. Keli. I mean, that's just a...just a name. Plaid is interesting.'

I shrugged my indiference. She let a few moments go by and then resumed polite conversation by asking me if this was the first time I'd been to the words.

'Yeah,' I said. 'What are they, anyway?'

'The Words,' she said, as if this was self-explanatory.

At my still-clueless look she attempted further, 'Well, its kind of ...hard to explain. They're all these ...stones...with the Words on them, carved into the rock, you know? People say they're the words of prophets or something. I don't know about that. Ba doesn't have any prophets, I don't think.'

'Are they really good luck then, or what?' I asked.

'People think so. I just like to read them. You find out so many interesting things. Sam says they contribute to a...a sort of precognative ability. In her dreams.'

'Really?'

'Yeah, and Sam's really good too. She can predict what kind of pie's gonna come. And when the river flooded last year, she knew about it. Brad didn't listen to her that time...Marcia was livid. And the rest of them too, except for Mossfoot, of course, he stays underwater most of the time, because of his--'

'Keli, what are you talking to Plaid about?' Samantha had turned around. We stopped walking. 'You know Brad explained that Plaid wastn't to be told too much. He thinks its dangerous to her mission.'

'But I was just ta--'

'I know, Keli, but we have to be careful. You know what Brad's like about the Sock Wars. Just humor him. You'll have plenty of time to chat with Plaid afterwards.'

With that Sam took me by the arm and we walked quickly ahead of everyone else. Some of them whispered to each other. I was annoyed, and I'm sure it showed in the looks I was giving the scenery.

Sam started talking to me, but I was distracted by the cold shadow we'd just walked into. I hadn't seen the Garner before, which was strange, because it was humongous, black and towering, with a thin wisp of smoke trailing out of its crater.

'--don't exactly approve of the wars myself, becuase they tend to get out of hand, and people get hurt, but they're important to Brad. Why did you decide to do this for him?'

'Huh?' I pulled my gaze away from the majesty of the volcano and looked at her. 'I...I, uh, I'm not sure, really. I just....did.'

'Well, I hope you get something out of it. You'll find the pirates exciting. Malory...Malory's something else. And his crew...his crew...well, just watch out for Moon Cat Blue,' she said with a wink.

I smiled weakly, suddenly very tired. We'd reached a stretch of rugged hill which led up to steeper crags and mounds of black volcanic rock.

'Why do they call it Garner?' I asked. My curiosity hadn't abandoned me yet.

'That's its name.'

Something in her tone told me I wasn't going to get anything more than that, and I swallowed the 'why' even as I was dying to ask it.

There wasn't much to see for the rest of the hike besides lots and lots of jagged igneous landscape, dotted sparsely with charred tree trunks and struggling plantlife. We walked in silence for most of the way, with Sam calling out directions from the head of the group.