"Okay, I'm bored," sighed Fred. We'd been in the rowboat for, oh, three minutes. "What now? Run around asking pirates if they've seen The Book?" Fred sniffed the air. "Hey, do you smell that?"

I took a deep whiff, and almost gagged. "What IS that? It smells like rotten eggs."

Sam sniffed, looked alarmed, sank further into the rowboat, and whispered, "It's burning gunpowder. That's the sulfur we smell."

"So?" said Fred.