Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

said the Bear. "The ship takes care of herself, mostly, but Halloweenie will look after all your needs."
    The humans just had time to mouth the name and look dubiously at each other, and then there was a loud clattering of bones as the other crew member made his appearence. He came dashing onto the main deck at speed, skidded to a halt by the guardrail, and gave the humans a brisk salute. He was a skeleton, about four feet in height held together by invisible wiring. He wore a rakish bandanna around his gleaming white skull, and an eyepatch over one empty eye socket.
    "Hi there," he said chirpily, in an excited boy's voice. "I'm Halloweenie, the Li'l Skeleton Boy! First Mate of the Merry Mrs. Trusspot, at your service! Come aboard, come aboard; I just know we're going to have a great adventure together!
    Anything I can do to make your trip more comfortable, you come and see me!"
    "Now him I like," said Toby.
    "Trust me, he doesn't half start to grate after a while," said the Sea Goat.
    "The truly sentient mind can only stand so much cheerfulness. Beyond a certain point, the urge to throw him overboard strapped to an anchor will become almost unbearable. Unfortunately, we're going to have to rise above it, as he's the
    only one who knows how to keep the ship running smoothly. The Captain's good at steering and shouting orders, but beyond that he's usually lost. So just grit your teeth and smile back at the cheerful little swine. Feel free to throw things. I always do."
    "Don't mind the Goat," said Bruin Bear. "He's just being himself."
    "And I hate all these bright bloody colors," muttered the Sea Goat. "Makes me want to puke."
    After a civilized little get-together in the Captain's cabin, at which the Sea Goat disgraced himself by drinking sherry straight from the bottle and not knowing what a napkin was, Halloweenie showed the passengers to their cabins and left them to settle in. According to the rough map the Bear had provided, the trip down the River was clearly going to take several days, and in the light of that the humans weren't all that impressed by the accommodations. The cabins were bright and cheerful, like everything else on this children's world, but the rooms held only a hammock, a bookcase full of children's classics, a freezer full of soft drinks and sweeties, and a washbasin. The humans all but simultaneously went looking for the galley and a stiff drink, not necessarily in that order. Booze turned out to be in very short supply. There was supposed to be sherry for the cooking, and brandy for medical emergencies, but the Captain had already appropriated both for himself. Exactly what kind of buzz an automaton could get from alcohol remained something of a mystery. Luckily there was still plenty of food. Some of the tins were still within their sell-by dates.
    The passengers reconvened on deck to watch the crew cast off. This was even less exciting than it sounded, since it consisted of the Captain yelling orders, and Halloweenie throwing a rope overboard, but already the humans could feel boredom
    creeping up on them. The great paddle wheels of the Merry Mrs. Trusspot turned slowly, and her whistle sounded loudly on the still evening. The day was almost done, and stars were coming out in the darkening sky. The stars had five perfect points, and were arranged to form the shapes of popular children's characters.
    The full moon wore a long floppy nightcap.
    The paddle steamer slowly picked up speed, the dark liquid of the River churning around her bow. She rounded a curve in the River, and there on the bank was the whole of Toystown, come to see the humans off and cheer them on their way. They clapped and laughed and shouted encouragement, jostling each other cheerfully for a better view. Poogie the Friendly Critter and Anything, who'd turned up at the very last moment, stood together by the rail, a little away from the humans, and stared glumly back at the crowd. Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat laughed and waved, the Goat responding surprisingly amiably to the occasional catcall. The humans waved back at the huge crowd, a little self-consciously at first, and then more easily as they got into the good cheer and excitement of the moment.
    Someone set off fireworks, spattering rich reds and greens and yellows against the falling night. The Merry Mrs. Trusspot tooted her whistle again and again, and so the great voyage began.
    Not long after, when they'd left the crowd behind and silence had returned to the