"Fabulous," Camicazi said with every nugget of sarcasm she could muster. As she gave the boat a swift kick against the hull. "Just fabulous. So much for these incredibles boats your tribe is supposedly so talented at building. You know what I have to say about them? Failure. Complete failure. It's so good I didn't steal one. I should have just rolled my sleeves and built my own."

Her brother did not respond.

The idiot could not even respond to a baited insult. "SeaSweat, did you hear me?"

He nodded and hopped from the boat.

"And did you hear me insult your boat?"

He nodded again.

"And you're not going to say anything?"

He shrugged. "I didn't build that boat and you were the one that pulled us into the wrong current."

"The current I discovered. Heretofore named the Camicazi Current!'

SeaSweat was on shore now, looking out to the sea as if there were something that could possibly be important out there.

"Except I will never get to inform anyone of the current and its name because your boat is incapable of getting through the ocean."

"Can you please shut up? I'm trying to figure a way to get off the island?"

Camicazi felt the tiniest twinge of guilt. Yes, he was right. There was nothing more dangerous than being on the island of the Hysterics thought at the time they weren't exactly popping out everywhere to attack them. And maybe her brother was right and maybe she did some things she shouldn't have and maybe it was possibly partially her fault they were. Self-blame had never been one of her strongest suits. But she did like be helpul. "What do we need?"

"A paddle."

"A paddle?" she echoed incredulously.

He nodded. "So we can push through the currents a little better."

"Oh. I guess I was hoping for something a little more exciting. What does a paddle look like? I mean, you're the ship guy so you should be able to tell me these things."

"Something long and broad so we can push the water back."

Camicazi sighed and looked around the beach. It was bare and sandy and more than a little rocky. "I'm not seeing anything. I will head further inland." Before SeaSweat could say anything she was, racing up hill toward the mess of rocks above.

Hysterica sure did not have much in the way of wood. The little forest they did have was sparse and straggly and even knowing her own bare home island she was unimpressed. No wonder the Hysterics were they way they were. Except none seemed to be about it. Which suited her just fine, though it would be cool to return not only wit all sorts of fancy machinery but with tales of fighting a Hysteric.

Yet no one seemed to be about. Just as well, she told herself.

She moved along the island. There did seem to be stronger forests inland at the island's center but they were miles away. She had a sudden urge to just let everything go and run and run until she had circled the entire island. Maybe the Hysterics weren't there. Maybe they had died off. Maybe she could be able to claim this entire island in the name of the Bog-Burglars. Maybe…

Before she could think another thought, the steel edge of a blade appeared in front of her.

She skidded to a fault, the blade barely missing the tip of her nose.

Three monstrously huge Vikings towered above her. Their clothes were hodge-podge and they stank horribly and even their eyes couldn't focus. It was only because of that damned sword she could tell they knew where she was. She swallowed and moved for her own sword.

"Don't even think about using that, girly!" the owner of the threatening sword said. "Don't think about using it or you will find yourself without a head and that head will be rolling right down the path."

Even so she let her fingers rest lightly on her sword. "I'm not using it. I'm just touching it. See?"

"Don't think about doing anything else."

She sighed. She had never been very good at being threatened. "And just who are you?"

"Hysterics."

She rolled her eyes. "I mean, besides the obvious. I get that this is your island and this is the island known for housing the Hysteric tribe and that's probably why it is called Hysteria and all that, but let's take a nice breather for a moment and you can bother to tell me just who exactly you are what exactly you are going to do with me."

The men exchanged glances.

"Do you ever shut up?" asked one.

"Nope," replied Camicazi.

"We are Hysterics, as you observed," said the first Hysteric. "And we want to know why you and that other spindly young chap docked your boat on our island. Our home. I believe many people refer to it as trespassing."

"We had no intention of trespassing on your ugly island. For all it's worth, I thought it was impossible to get here except when the sea freezes. But apparently there is this tiny little current that happens to go right past your island and on that we got caught."

"We want you off," said the third Hysteric.

"And I'll be happy to go as soon as you let me doing something besides touch my sword. I would be perfectly happy to get the paddle my brother so desires and leave."

"A paddle," repeated the second Hysteric. "You are asking for a paddle."

"Yes. Did I not make myself clear?"

The sword was slowly pulled away and in a moment Camicazi had her own in hand and between her and the Hysterics. "I don't want to use this but I will if I have to!"

"You won't if you promise to leave!"

"Fine." She sighed. "I will." Then she stopped.

It was probably an incredibly stupid idea and she probably should have realized that when she was thinking of it. But she knew of the Hysterics, had dealth with them before, and some knowledge pertaining to them had managed to stick in her head.

Slowly, half-fearing it would be taken from her, she pulled the little automaton out.

The Hysterics, as she had anticipated, gasped.

Maybe her idea wasn't stupid. Maybe it was brilliant.

"Your leader," she said. "Norbert the Nutjob. Has he seen anything like this before?"