“It’s as if she doesn’t hear herself,” Arthur replied.
“We certainly heard her, didn’t we?”
“That we did.”
Zoe glanced at Miss Marblemaw and beyond. “Turnip, would you like to help? It’s okay to say no if you don’t want to.”
“What would you have of me, your majesty?” Turnip asked, bowing low. Barry and Janet did the same, dripping bits of themselves onto the ground.
“Majesty?” Miss Marblemaw exclaimed. “She’s nothing but a sprite.”
“Harriet Marblemaw has come to our home with nefarious designs,” Zoe said. “It’s high time she departed. Take her to the docks. Barry, Janet, please grab her belongings and follow me.”
Miss Marblemaw didn’t have time to escape before Turnip wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the ground. She bellowed furiously, kicking her legs to no avail. Turnip’s hold on her was far stronger than she could ever be. Janet picked up the metal briefcase, and Barry hoisted the suitcase.
“Children,” Linus said, “let’s go see about your afternoon snack, shall we? Everyone wave goodbye to Miss Marblemaw.”
“I’d like Lucy to come with us,” Arthur said. “Just in case.”
“Yep, yep,” Lucy said, rushing past Arthur to catch up with the mud people and Zoe, Miss Marblemaw threatening anything and everything. Arthur nodded at Linus as he herded the other children toward the house, all of them talking excitedly.
The mud people proved to be light on their feet, strides long and sure. However, Arthur noticed that if they got too far ahead of Zoe—not Lucy—they’d slow down, letting her catch up. Your majesty, Turnip had said. He knew. Somehow, he knew. Be it the magic of the island itself, or the light that emanated from Zoe Chapelwhite, somehow, Turnip knew what Arthur himself had only learned shortly before.
Miss Marblemaw continued her threats as they made their way down the winding dirt road, Lucy picking up piles of mud that had fallen off his creations and slapping it back on while jogging to keep pace. By the time they reached the docks, the salt road to the mainland had already formed, nearly two miles of solid ground across the sea. As he reached the end of the dock, Turnip carefully set Miss Marblemaw on the road. She reached up to slap him, but he grabbed her wrist midflight, leaning over the dock as he pulled her closer. “I do not like being struck,” he said before letting her go. She stumbled onto the road, the salt creaking beneath her feet.
Barry and Janet tossed her belongings after her. They skittered a few feet away onto the road, the briefcase almost falling into the ocean as Arthur and Lucy joined them.
“You have made a grave mistake,” Miss Marblemaw said, raising a trembling finger toward Zoe. “People will suffer because of your war against decency.”
Lucy cocked his head as he looked down at her. “Why do you hate us so much? What did we ever do to you?”
She scoffed. “Hate? Hate? It’s not about hate. It’s about ensuring the future of humanity, something you are destined to destroy.” She took a step toward the dock. Lucy didn’t blink. “You, boy. Surely you see that. In that withering husk you call a soul, you know as well as I do that it’s only a matter of time before you decide to install yourself as the supreme ruler.”
Lucy laughed. “Why be supreme when you could listen to the Supremes instead?” His shoulders and hips began to wiggle. “Stop! In the naaame of love. Be-fore you breeeaaak my heart! Think it oh-oh-ver.” He bowed.
Zoe and Arthur and the mud people applauded.
Miss Marblemaw did not. She growled and attempted to climb back up onto the dock, only to have Zoe wave her hand, sending her sliding back along the road. She stood with Turnip, Janet, and Barry on either side of her. “Harriet Marblemaw,” she said, voice deep. “You are hereby banished from Marsyas Island. No longer will you be able to step foot on our shores.” She lifted her hand near Turnip’s mouth, wings fluttering. “Spit, please.”
Turnip did as asked, spitting a glop of mud into Zoe’s hand. She closed her fingers around it, and when she opened her hand once more, a small seashell sat on her palm, orange and white. Bringing her hand to her face, she blew on the shell. The surface rippled before it hurtled from her hand toward Miss Marblemaw. The shell struck the inspector in the forehead, sinking into her skull. She blinked once, twice, three times, dazed, eyes unfocused. The shell reappeared out the back of her head and disintegrated, the powder blowing away on the wind.
“With that,” Zoe said, “you’ll be unable to come to our island again. You have forty-five minutes until the salt road collapses back into the sea. If I were you, I’d make use of that time, unless you feel like going for a swim.”
Miss Marblemaw did not listen. As if she had all the time in the world, she pulled herself upright, smoothed out her clothes, and then attempted to climb up the side of the dock. The moment she touched a support post, she snatched her hand back as if burned. She tried again. Same result.
Zoe crouched down on the dock above her. “Banished. Permanently. Any attempt to breach the island will result in unimaginable pain. You may think you can push through it, but let me assure you, that wouldn’t be in your best interest. You’d be dead before you stood on my sands.”
“The government will—”
“Forty-three minutes,” Zoe said. “Tick, tock.”
The last they saw of Miss Marblemaw was when she picked up her luggage and began marching down the road. They waved. Miss Marblemaw did not wave back. Eventually, she was nothing but a smudge on the horizon.
“Lucy,” Zoe said, “I think it’s time we let the mud people go.”
“But why?” Lucy said. “I love them!”
“Muuuuud,” Janet said, cupping his cheek with one hand.
“And we love you,” Turnip said. “In my short albeit eventful life, I have seen things that defy imagination. For example, why is your mud pink and not wet? Do not tell me; I wish to ponder this until I arrive at an answer.” He turned toward Zoe and bowed. “Your majesty, the mud has proven its loyalty. We ask that you allow us to live in the forest. Janet, Barry, and I will tend to the bogs and swamps, and they will be the muddiest in the entire world. Our gift to you.”
Zoe smiled. “Perfect. I accept, and with my gratitude. I hereby give you and Barry and Janet the titles of the official mud representatives of Marsyas Island. Should you require anything to see your dreams realized, all you must do is ask.”
“I think I’ll miss you most of all, Barry,” Lucy said with a sniff. “You always know the right thing to say.”
“Mud mud mud,” Barry said.
“See? Like that.”
“Brother,” Turnip said, taking Barry’s hand. “Sister.” He grabbed Janet’s hand. “It’s time for the mud people to do what we do best. Create more mud. Onward! Adventure waits for us all!”
The mud people walked down the dock. Hitting the tree line, Turnip glanced over his shoulder. Well, he tried to glance over his shoulder, but he missed the mark and his head turned completely around. “Lucy!” he called. “Thank you for never giving up! You will always have a friend amongst the mud people.” With that, they disappeared into the thick forest.
“Can I go visit them?” Lucy asked, wiping his eyes.
Arthur ruffled his hair. “Anytime you wish. All you must do is ask. Come. Let us see what the others have gotten up to.”
Eyes dry, Lucy shouted, “Hurray! Can I have seven—no, wait, thirty biscuits when we get home? The peanut butter kind that Linus makes with the little fork marks on the top.”
