by Antony John
My father pulled to a seated position. He shook his thick wavy hair, spreading droplets across the deck. “There are no Guardians left but us, Alice,” he said, indicating himself and Marin and Tarn. “I can promise you that.”
Alice gave a single nod, as if she were giving his statement proper consideration. “I know that’s what you think, Ordyn. But you’re wrong.”
“Then who is it?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead, Thom. Tell them.”
Everyone was silent now. They must have sensed that the information, whatever it was, would change everything. Only, I didn’t want to be the person to share it. How could I possibly explain that my mother was still alive, thirteen years after the Guardians had supposedly watched her die?
“Who is it, Thomas?” Father asked.
I felt caught. And played too—Alice had diverted attention away from herself and onto me. Even Jerren seemed surprised and uncomfortable at the turn of events.
I cleared my throat. “It’s Mother,” I said to Ananias, because I couldn’t bear to face Father. “Our mother is alive.”
CHAPTER 7
Father glared at me, as if I were playing a cruel joke on him. “Why are you saying this?” he growled. “Are you and Alice so determined to return to Roanoke that you’d make up this . . . this hideous lie?”
I wished I had proof enough to convince him, but according to legend, my mother had died on the morning after Griffin was born. That’s what we’d always believed, anyway.
“It’s no lie,” said Jerren softly. “I saw her. When Dare visited Sumter a month before you arrived, she was with him. She even told me you’d be coming.”
“You saw a woman, that’s all,” snapped Ananias. “She could’ve been anyone.”
Jerren raised his hands, palms out like he was preparing to deflect punches. “She arrived with Dare—the only woman on board his ship. The pirates treated her differently too. Respectfully.”
“Then she was his wife.”
“No. They’re related. If you saw her, you’d understand.”
Ananias seemed ready to argue another point, but when he looked at our father, he stopped.
“Skya . . . died,” said Father to Marin and Tarn. He licked his chapped lips. “You saw her drown.”
Marin nodded. “We saw her facedown in the ocean, yes. She was badly wounded, Ordyn.”
“You saw her drown!” he roared.
Tarn cleared her throat. “I watched Dare pull her from the water. Watched him cry as he dragged her on board his ship. She was dead. It was obvious. All the Guardians saw it.”
“Really? Or were you just too cowardly to help her? Why risk getting hurt when she was taking the punishment for you, right?” Father was shaking, and it had nothing to do with his saturated clothes. The turmoil of the past thirteen years played out on his face. “You told me that Skya was dead!”
“She was!” Tarn frowned as she realized how ridiculous that sounded. “You know better than anyone how she was during those last few weeks—how she was always talking about the solution; saying she’d do anything in the world to save Griffin. When she drowned it seemed like she’d known all along what would happen. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? She was a seer.”
Ananias looked at our father, then at me. The events of the past couple weeks had left him a shell of his former self. What was he thinking now that he’d discovered our mother had been alive all these years?
Just as importantly, what would Griffin make of the news?
I rolled onto my side and stood. My chest constricted. With every heartbeat, a searing pain spread across me.
“Where are you going?” Alice asked.
“I think Griffin deserves to know the truth as well, don’t you? Just a shame that he’ll be the last to know.”
Alice must have detected the anger in my voice, because she brushed by me.
“You going to beat me to it, then?”
She flicked her head dismissively. “No. I’m going to look for food and medicine, like I said I would. It’d be nice if your wounds could heal before your mother has to see them.”
Now I was really angry. I felt caught in the middle of a fight I hadn’t even started. We should have been celebrating an improbable escape. Instead, Alice had risked fracturing our group to make sure that we’d set a course for Roanoke.
“Why did you make me tell them about my mother, Alice?”
“Don’t you think they ought to know?”
“I think it should’ve been my decision.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Want to know what I think? I think I just distracted everyone from the most awkward question of all.”
“Which is?”
“How you didn’t notice Dare joining you on the other ship. And why he chose to let you live.”
Determined to have the last word, she turned her back to me and headed downstairs. I didn’t follow, but lumbered across the deck to the prow. Griffin hadn’t moved from the ladder they’d used to board the ship. Nor had Nyla. But where Griffin was lying down, Nyla was sitting bolt upright, facing forward, as if she’d already consigned everything behind us to the past.
Griffin watched me with narrowed eyes, like he knew I had something important to say. I sat beside him and stretched out my legs.
The signs came slowly at first. I wasn’t sure how to tell Jerren’s story so that it would make sense. Griffin didn’t stop me, though. He didn’t ask any questions either. Just let me tell it all in my own words.
When I was done, he glanced at Nyla. We. Know, he signed.
I looked at Nyla too. “What’s he talking about?”
“We already know everything,” she explained. “I’ve known for weeks. Ever since Jerren told me about the conversation he had with your mother. When we all escaped from Sumter yesterday, I had to tell Griffin the truth. He deserved to know.”
Though Griffin couldn’t hear a word, he nodded in agreement. I searched his face for signs of anger or concern, but unlike Father and Ananias, he seemed completely at peace. All. Right? I asked.
Griffin’s lips twitched upward in a smile. Always. Think. Mother. Die. For. Me. He let out a long sigh. Mother. Alive, he continued, emphasizing the last word. Not. My. Fault. Anymore.
I thought back to the day before. When Jerren had found his parents’ bodies hidden on an island near Fort Sumter, he’d said he felt relief. Four years of wondering if he could have saved them were dispelled in an instant. Looking at Griffin, I saw that same relief now. From now on, he wouldn’t have to carry the guilt of believing that our mother had given her life to save him. Not as long as she was still alive.
We. Find. Her, I promised him.
He returned a nod, but it wasn’t convincing. Griffin didn’t place much weight in promises or blind optimism. At thirteen, he was younger than everyone but Dennis, but he appeared as wizened as the Guardians as he raised his hands and signed: You. Have. Journal?
I hadn’t thought about the journal at all. Didn’t want to think about it now, either. We’d just escaped yet again, but we weren’t in the clear yet. Dare was giving chase, and our crew was in mutiny. What would yet another journal prove?
Where. Journal? Griffin pressed.
Not. Here, I returned. Gone.
I didn’t bother to point out that the journal would have been ruined if any of us had attempted to swim with it. I didn’t tell him that it was already gone when I visited Rose, either. Whatever those journals might have exposed—more secrets and lies, no doubt—was in the past now. The sooner Griffin moved on, the better.
Only, he wouldn’t move on, of course. Over the past couple weeks, as we’d battled pirates and storms and rats and death, Griffin had never let up in his desire to learn about our past. Now that he’d been exposed to rats, and almost certainly contracted Plague, it seemed less likely than
ever that he’d give up his search for the truth.
What kind of brother was I for thinking that he should?
I couldn’t go back and find the journal for Griffin. But maybe I didn’t need to. It could only have been taken by someone who had visited Rose’s cabin on the other ship. Someone who had known what secrets the journals contained, and who wanted them kept that way.
All signs pointed to a Guardian. But which one?
Griffin’s and Nyla’s eyes drifted past me. Someone was crossing the deck toward us.
It was Jerren. “You’d better come below deck,” he told me.
“Is there a problem?”
“Not if you’re hungry, or need medicine. But if you were hoping to find a stash of weapons, you’re out of luck.”
“Where are the guns, then?”
“I don’t know. But like I say, you should come with me. Alice found this room, and . . . well, it’s not like anything you’ve ever seen.”
CHAPTER 8
Jerren led me down the stairs and along to the stern. The corridor wasn’t as gloomy as the one on Dare’s ship. Instead of wood paneling, the walls were white, though flaking and crumbling in places. Open doors revealed cabins filled with makeshift beds built on wooden crates, and roughly folded blankets. If the accommodations weren’t as comfortable as our cabins on Hatteras Island had been, they weren’t far off.
The ship wasn’t large, and in less than twenty paces we stood before the farthest door. Jerren opened it wide.
This was no cabin. Desks ran along either side, built to follow the contours of the curved walls. Above each one were three sturdy metal shelves. They were lined with books and machines. No space had been wasted.
“What is this?” I asked.
“I figured you could tell me. They never let me see it. To be honest, they never let me on board at all.”
“I thought you said—”
“That it was a reconnaissance ship, yes. And that it was well stocked. Doesn’t mean Chief let me anywhere near it. He always said I was too young, but now I think it was because he didn’t trust me.”
“Can’t imagine why,” I deadpanned.
Jerren gave a low chuckle. “After everything he did to us, it feels good to have gotten the better of that guy.”
“Yes, it does.” I felt embarrassed for having trusted Chief. “We owe you our lives, you know that? Without you, we never would’ve escaped from Sumter.”
Jerren shrugged. “Yeah, well . . . Nyla and me owe you our lives too, right? We had no future there. Maybe we’ll have better luck on Roanoke.”
I took a box from the lowest shelf and opened it. There were maps inside. I opened each of them and laid them side by side. “Look at this stuff. There’s nautical maps of Charleston Harbor. Maps of the whole east coast of the mainland.”
Jerren picked up a small book and flicked through the pages. “The other ship didn’t have this much stuff, did it?”
“No. But something tells me, Dare doesn’t need it either.”
“You really think he can sail without maps?”
“Yes, I do. That’s why I won’t feel safe no matter how much distance we put between us and the other ship. He knows these waters differently than everyone else, I think.”
I moved on to a desk lined with machines and ran my fingers across them lightly to see which of them still worked. Three flashlights gave off a dull glow, while a radio emitted static. The next machine was a piece of flat, circular glass surrounded by metal. The glass was dark and blank, but as I ran my fingers along the metal edge, a green dot appeared in the center. A thin shaky line ran above it and down to the left.
Just like everything else I touched for the first time, the machine startled me. It wasn’t so much the dull ache that hovered in the background every time I used my element, but the surprise of what I was able to do. During our escape from Sumter, Jerren had shaped and redirected sound, but that had been the extent of his element. For me, every new machine was a mystery I was unearthing. My element felt limitless.
“What’s that?” asked Jerren. He pointed at the green dot.
“It’s a satellite navigation system,” came a voice from the doorway.
I hadn’t heard Tarn enter. She leaned against the doorframe, tired eyes lingering on the glass screen before me. When she opened her mouth to speak, a sigh came out first. “I never thought I’d see one of those things again.”
“What does it do?” I asked.
“Tells you where you are.”
“We know where we are. We’re on the ocean.”
Tarn smiled. She moved closer to the machine. “That dot there is us. And this jagged line to the northwest is the Carolina coast. This machine isn’t just telling us we’re on the ocean. It’s telling us exactly where we are on the ocean.”
“How exact?” Jerren asked.
“Hard to say, without knowing the machine. But I’d guess it’s accurate to within a couple boat lengths.”
Jerren let out a long breath.
“How does it work?” I asked.
Tarn shifted her weight from one foot to another. “It’s called triangulation. This is going to be impossible for you to understand, but there are machines in the sky called satellites. They run on solar power, which is why they’re still going, I guess. They send signals, which are received by this machine. The signals arrive at different times depending on how far away they are. This machine then calculates our location based on those three points in space.”
“How did the machines get up there?”
“We sent them,” answered Tarn. “Many years ago. Before the Exodus and the Plague. It’s kind of crazy to think about it . . . how the only machinery that hasn’t suffered over eighteen years is the stuff we put in space.”
“Not the only machinery,” I reminded her. “This thing works too.” I removed my finger and watched the dot blink out. Then I touched the machine again and savored the control as it sparked to life. Here at last was a reminder of what my element might contribute—there was power in controlling a machine like this, and I was only just beginning to realize the potential. “Does it work on land?”
Tarn watched me from the corner of her eye. “It should, yes.”
“Then we’ll always know where we are.” I tapped the glass. “What about other ships? Can we see them?”
“I don’t know exactly what this system can do. But I have a feeling you’ll work it out.” She turned to leave.
“You know a lot about this stuff, Tarn.”
She paused. “There was a time all of us depended on the ocean. And knowing how to stay alive on it.” She sounded wistful.
“So you know how to operate some of these other machines, then?”
“No.” She closed the door soundlessly. “Look, Thomas,” she said, quieter now, “I know we’ve kept things from you—all of you—but we need to stick together.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Talk to Ananias. Alice too.” She flashed a look at Jerren, as if this affected both of us. “She’s shutting me out. I don’t know why, but I do know that if we can’t work together, we’re all going to die before we reach Roanoke.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. In the event, I didn’t get to say anything, because a cry came from down the corridor—a girl’s voice, short and sharp. It came to an abrupt and unnatural stop, as if someone was covering her mouth.
Jerren flashed me a look. “That’s Nyla.”
We piled out of the room together. Griffin was inside the first cabin on the left, awake, resting on a nest of blankets. I joined him, certain that Nyla, his constant companion, would be in there too.
She was gone.
CHAPTER 9
Griffin craned his neck to see me. Then he caught my expression, and frowned. All. Right? he asked.
Yes. If Nyla wa
s in trouble, I didn’t want him to know about it. Yet.
Jerren had continued along the corridor without me, bouncing off the walls in his haste, unable to protect his good arm. Nyla had only screamed once, but he seemed to have a very good idea of where the sound had come from.
“Jerren!” I shouted.
He didn’t stop. Just blundered all the way to the last door, which he opened swiftly. Alice was standing right there, a tray in her hands. “Nyla dropped a water canister,” she explained.
Sure enough, Nyla was on her knees, mopping up a pool of water with a handful of rags. “Is she all right?” I asked.
“She’s fine,” said Alice.
But Nyla had her back to us, and she still hadn’t said a word. “Are you all right, Nyla?”
She nodded, but didn’t turn around. “It was a shock, that’s all.”
Jerren knelt beside his sister and eased the rags from her hands. “It’s okay,” he told her. “Everything’s okay.”
Alice pressed the tray into my hands. “While you’re here, you may as well take that up.”
Tarn joined us then. She tried to peer around Alice. “Nyla sounded petrified,” she whispered.
Alice’s expression shifted—no longer patient and conciliatory, but fiery. “Yesterday she found her parents’ bodies. She got bitten by rats. Now she might have Plague, and she’s scared to death.”
“We know what happened,” I said.
“So why was no one tending to her? Griffin too,” she added, glaring at me.
“Something came up.”
“Did it now?” She tapped the tray. “Well, I’ve prepared the food. Is it asking too much for you to serve it?”
The tray was covered with fresh green leaves and cured fish. Jerren wasn’t wrong when he said that the ship was kept stocked and ready. But as I headed upstairs I didn’t feel particularly hungry, just confused and chastened.
