The Unmapped Sea by Maryrose Wood Page B

station.” Alexander shook his head ruefully. “I should have navigated!”
    â€œMaybe something ominous happened,” Beowulf suggested. “Ominous weather?”
    â€œOminous pirates,” Cassiopeia said knowingly.
    The man looked at her askance. “Even pirates have the sense not to holiday at the beach in the off-season. If you’d come in July, we’d be full up. I’d have to turn you away, and wouldn’t that be a pleasure! But Brighton, in January? Empty as a pauper’s bank account.”
    In answer, the children clicked their heels together and imitated the captain’s bass laugh. “Ah. Ha. Hah,”they intoned, in their deepest voices.
    â€œNot quite right, are they?” the clerk said sympathetically, to Penelope.
    Penelope’s spine went straight as the handle of a whip. “The children are merely observing that Brighton in the off-season is not as empty as you claim,” she retorted. “We have scarcely been in town an hour, and already we have met a visitor from Russia. He is a military captain, of tremendous dignity and command.”
    â€œHe had no clothes on,” Cassiopeia explained.
    â€œHe had hair like a walrus.” Beowulf stroked the sides of his face to indicate a fearsome growth of whiskers.
    â€œHe said I was like the tsar.” Alexander snapped his heels together. This time it made such a loud and satisfying clack that he immediately checked his shoes to make sure they were still intact.
    The hotel clerk gasped. “You don’t mean the Babushkinovs? That horrible family! They were guests here last week, it’s true, but there was . . . an incident. The management had no choice but to ask them to leave. If the Babushkinovs are still in Brighton—well, there’s only one other hotel that’s open. They must be staying there. Perhaps that’s where your missing Ashtons are as well.” He shuddered. “Sharing a hotel withthose dreadful Babushkinovs!”
    He looked around in terror and lowered his voice, although there was no one near to eavesdrop. “My advice is to avoid them at all costs. And whatever you do, don’t mention Napoleon! It seems to set them off.” (As the historians among you know, Napoleon Bonaparte had once been the Emperor of France. After conquering most of Europe, he decided to invade Russia, and a terrible war ensued. Russia prevailed over the French in the end, but it was a brutal conflict lasting many months, and hard feelings remained on both sides, even years later.)
    â€œWe shall do our best to avoid the topic,” Penelope said impatiently. “Now, if you might direct us to the other hotel—”
    But the clerk was not listening. “Horrible Babushkinovs!” he said, in a tremulous voice. “You’ll know who they are, trust me. They’re hard to miss, with all those badly behaved children.”
    At the mention of children, the Incorrigibles began to elbow one another and whisper in excitement. Penelope quieted them with a look. “If you please, sir,” she said pointedly, “what is the name of the other hotel?”
    â€œI’ll write it down.” From behind one ear he produced a pencil. “Can’t miss it. It’s just a few blocksdown on Front Street.” He took the note with the directions from Penelope and began to write on it, then stopped. “Well, that’s your problem right there, miss. Look at that foot.” He handed the paper back to her. “You’ve come to the wrong hotel. This is the Left Foot Inn. See?”
    Penelope could not see, not until she thanked the man and led the children outside again. Then she looked at the paper, and up at the sign above the entrance to the inn. Both displayed feet, but they were not the same feet.
    â€œOn closer examination, it seems our stay in Brighton has gotten off on the wrong foot,” she explained to the children. “Honestly,