Renegade

by Antony John

  “You’ve got to help me get Marin up here,” she said. “That woman just saved your life. Now it’s time for you to save hers.”

  She pulled me to a stand and we took the rope. Gradually we pulled Marin from the water. When she was almost at rail level I anchored my feet against the edge of the ship and leaned back, a counterbalance to her weight. Tarn dragged her aboard.

  We were sprawled across the deck. To the east, wisps of smoke skidded above Skeleton Town. How were the others doing? Was I a coward for leaving them?

  Tarn followed my eyes. “What happened over there, Thomas?” she asked.

  What had happened? And how could I begin to explain. “It was . . . an ambush.”

  “We heard shots. Is anyone hurt?”

  “I don’t think anyone was shot. But the others have been captured. And there are rats. Lots of them.”

  Tarn looked over my body—took in the blood streaks and the bite marks. “How many rats?”

  “Thousands.”

  I wanted to see Griffin, but now I was pleased that he wasn’t with us. How could I explain that after all these years, he wasn’t the only solution? How could I put everything that had happened into signs when I couldn’t find the words?

  “The pirates control the rats,” I said. “They used them to round us up. To trap us.”

  “That’s impossible. They just made you think they can do that.”

  “I saw—”

  “What they wanted you to see.” Tarn huffed. “An element like that couldn’t have arisen until after the Exodus and the Plague. That’s the way elements evolve—in response to external change. Since every one of the pirates was born before the Plague, they couldn’t possess such an ability.”

  “But the boy wasn’t born before the Plague.”

  “What boy?” Tarn’s expression shifted—no longer dismissive, but concerned. “What are you talking about?”

  “A boy who came from the clan ship that’s moored to the northwest of Roanoke.” I pointed, but the mast was obscured by trees.

  “If there’s a clan ship, then where are the clan folk? You can’t believe a boy sailed that ship through the Oregon Inlet by himself.”

  I shrugged. These were reasonable questions, but I had no answers. Nothing made sense anymore. “Tessa said the solution is death,” I reminded her. “What if Griffin isn’t the real solution? What if that boy on Roanoke is instead?”

  Tarn looked at Marin. She wanted another Guardian to help her make sense of everything. But Marin hadn’t moved. Only the gentle rise and fall of her chest convinced me that she was still alive.

  “I need to go back,” I said. “I have to help them.”

  “No. You need to rest.”

  “Your daughter is over there.”

  “Yes, she is. But making another hasty decision won’t turn back time. What we need now is a plan.”

  I thought about this. “Actually, what we need is answers. And I know who has them.”

  I dragged myself off the deck and lumbered toward the stairs. I never made it to Tessa’s cabin, though. Because halfway down the stairwell, listening in, was a perfectly healthy girl.

  It wasn’t until Nyla spoke that I was sure I wasn’t seeing a ghost.

  CHAPTER 20

  Nyla bit her lip, as if she were waiting for me to appraise her and was nervous about what I’d say. But what could I say? The lumps on her neck had disappeared. The skin was still dark from bruising, but there were no blemishes, or fever. No more pain.

  “You’re cured,” I murmured. It was a pointless, self-evident thing to say, but I had to say it to make it real. “How?”

  She shrugged. “Griffin.”

  “Where is he now?”

  Nyla lowered her eyes. “In the cabin. Sleeping.”

  Why would Griffin be sleeping in the middle of the day? When we’d left a few strikes earlier, he’d been feeling better.

  I didn’t bother to ask which cabin he was in. I knew where I’d find him.

  Griffin was lying on the floor, sweating, teeth chattering. He looked even worse than Rose. Yet, through it all, he smiled. Save. Nyla, he signed. Me. Solution.

  He had no idea about the boy on Roanoke, or the rats. As far as Griffin was concerned, he was the solution, and his version of the solution didn’t equal death at all.

  I knelt beside him. I wanted to hold him, but I couldn’t—it would hurt him even more. And so with nothing else to do, I broke down in tears. Tears for those I’d left behind on Roanoke, and for Rose and Dennis, and for Griffin, who’d hurt himself to save another.

  “Where’s my brother?” Nyla stood in the doorway. “Where’s Alice?”

  “They’re still on Roanoke,” I told her. “Now you tell me: How did you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “We don’t have time for this!” I didn’t want to be mean to her—not with Ananias captured on Roanoke—but I had to know. “How did Griffin cure you?”

  “We just held hands.”

  “You’re lying. I saw Griffin touch you earlier. There was something wrong.”

  Griffin signed for me to stop—he could see that Nyla was frightened. But when he beckoned her to join him, she wouldn’t. She wanted to keep her distance. It was as though she was afraid of stealing even more of his strength. Or hurting him.

  Almost like me, in fact.

  “What’s your element, Nyla?”

  She hesitated. “I don’t know.”

  “Your brother’s being held at gunpoint. If we’re going to help him, we cannot have secrets. You have to tell us about your element.”

  “How can I?” she snapped. “How do you explain what you are? . . . What you can do?”

  Tarn had helped Marin below deck now. They stood behind Nyla, but hearing this, they shrank back. It was instinct, the realization that, like me, she could hurt them without even meaning to. Especially when she was agitated.

  “You have my element,” I said.

  Nyla pursed her lips. “It’s not your element, Thomas. It’s an element, and I hate it as much as you do.”

  Ideas raced through my mind, then—answers to questions I’d never thought to ask. “That’s how you got the ship moving when we escaped from Sumter, isn’t it? You took over Rose’s element.”

  “I’d seen Rose catching fish, so I knew she had the element of water. But I didn’t know we’d be strong enough for that.” There wasn’t a hint of triumph in her voice. The element was as much a burden to her as it was to me.

  “So Griffin cured you by combining?”

  “No. We tried that. It didn’t work. So I took over his element. Cured myself by draining him.” She bit her lip. “That’s what you want to hear, right? That I hurt Griffin to save myself. That I could be more like you than anyone else, and still be less than you—less thoughtful, less kind . . .”

  Her eyes welled. Having admitted everything, she couldn’t bring herself to look at Griffin at all. But I could, and there was no mistaking the look on his face. The discomfort was still there, but he was smiling right through it. For the first time, his suffering was meaningful. There was a purpose to his pain.

  I. Save. Rose. Now, he signed, bowing his head toward the figures on the floor. Save. Dennis.

  Marin had been leaning against Tarn for support, but Griffin’s promise seemed to give her strength. “Can he do that?”

  “No,” I said. “He’s too weak.”

  “And so am I! Or did you think that rescuing you was easy for me? That holding you against me as I swam through the sound didn’t rob me of my strength.” Her clothes dripped onto the wooden floor.

  “But he doesn’t even know what happened. Nyla took over his element.”

  “Because I had to,” insisted Nyla. “I couldn’t give him my element and take his at the same time. I had to take it all, just li
ke he said I would.”

  “Wait. Griffin told you to do it?”

  “Of course he did. Maybe he could cure someone else just by touching them, but not me. And not you.”

  Marin slipped to the floor and rested her chin on her knees. “Look at me, Thomas. I broke myself to save you because it was the right thing to do. And because Rose would never forgive me if I hadn’t.”

  Hearing her name, I glanced at Rose. I’d been putting it off, I now realized, aware that she was only getting sicker. But I hadn’t realized how much worse. She and Dennis were sweating so hard that their clothes were as saturated as mine. But somehow her Plague seemed farther along than his—maybe because she’d been so sick before she was bitten.

  I. Save. Her, signed Griffin. He even seemed excited by the prospect, as if his life had no greater purpose than this.

  There was silence. Then: “Can he?” whispered Rose.

  The answer was clearly no—Griffin needed time to recover. Since he couldn’t be trusted to look out for himself, he needed me to do it for him. But Rose was slipping away with every passing strike. How could I deny her the chance to be cured? How could I deny Griffin the chance to cure her?

  “You’d need me to combine with him,” I told Rose. “He’s weak.”

  “I’ll do it,” said Nyla.

  “You’ve only just been cured.”

  “And you’ve only just returned from Roanoke. I think I’m stronger than you are.”

  I moved aside so that Griffin and Nyla could kneel beside Rose. But Rose shook her head gently. “No. Dennis first.”

  I felt a rush of panic. “But you’re weaker than him.”

  “Don’t care. Dennis goes first, or I won’t go at all.”

  I turned to Marin, pleading with my eyes for her to talk some sense into Rose. But when Marin broke eye contact, I knew that she wouldn’t say a word.

  Dennis rolled toward his sister and took her hand. “I won’t do it,” he said.

  “Yes, you will.” She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers. “You must. They need you. You’re special.”

  “But—”

  “I’m next. I promise.”

  What if there isn’t a next? I wanted to shout. But Griffin and Nyla were already lining up alongside Dennis. There was nothing I could do to stop them, either. Rose had made her feelings clear. In a way, Marin had too.

  With a deep breath, Griffin gave Nyla his left hand and placed his right on Dennis’s chest. There was something strange about the image, but it took me a moment to realize what it was: For years, no one had willingly touched Griffin because of his ability to foresee a person’s death. But there was no hesitation now. What was the use in waiting, when the pallor of almost-death already hung over Dennis’s skinny body?

  I didn’t expect to see the cure unfolding before us. It seemed logical to me that any transformation would take time, the Plague driven out a little more with each breath, each heartbeat. But I was wrong.

  Dennis’s color changed right before us. His cheeks turned red and sweat beaded on his forehead. His teeth chattered. Then the swelling around his neck and under his armpits reduced, leaving only shadowy outlines. It happened so quickly that Dennis seemed surprised when Griffin let go.

  It was the miracle Dare had predicted, a solution to humanity’s greatest threat. Griffin was changing the world, right before our eyes.

  I looked at my brother, unable to conceal a smile. I figured that Griffin would smile right back at me, proud of what he’d done. Instead his eyes were closed, and his head lolled from side to side. His breaths were rapid and uneven.

  Then he passed out.

  Nyla was afraid to touch him in case she made things worse. I felt powerless too. So it was Marin who shuffled over, lifted his head, and slid a rolled-up blanket underneath. Then she wrapped her arms around Dennis.

  “I feel . . . fine,” he said. “It was like he was giving me life.”

  Rose watched her younger brother, a smile playing on her lips. But there were tears too as she took in the sight of Griffin, out cold on the floor.

  Dennis pulled away from his mother. He was probably eager to move about after so much time cramped inside the cabin. He stepped to the porthole and savored the feel of the sun on his face. Resting his head against the wall, he peered outside. “What’s that?” he asked.

  I joined him, but all I saw was the dark sound stretching toward the shore.

  “In the water there,” he tried again.

  Tarn stepped quickly over to us. She peered outside, eyes narrowed, seeing things that the rest of us couldn’t. “Oh no,” she said.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Get on deck,” she yelled. “Do it now.”

  Dennis, completely recovered, was first to react. Tarn was right behind him. Nyla and I hesitated a moment, partly because we were both exhausted and maybe because we didn’t want to leave Griffin. But the horror in Tarn’s voice propelled us along the corridor and up the stairs. Marin was behind us, but she was in even worse shape—spent, weak, useless.

  From the higher vantage point, the water no longer appeared uniformly dark. Instead, like a cresting wave, a clear straight line separated the regular gray-green water from a swathe of advancing black.

  But it was the noise that really made me sick—thousands of tiny breathy squeaks. The rats were coming for us. And they only had twenty yards to go.

  CHAPTER 21

  Rats can’t climb a ship, right?” Dennis shouted. “The sides are curved. Slick.”

  “That’s right,” said Tarn. She sounded unsure, though. Like me, she was probably racing through any and all possibilities. Unfortunately, precious moments passed before she yelled, “They’ll climb the anchor chains.”

  I lumbered to the bow winch and began turning. It must have used a gear system, because the handle turned without much effort. Nyla raised the anchor at the stern. In mirror image, we spun our handles around as Tarn and Dennis scurried around the deck.

  Before my anchor was clear of the water, a shot rang out from the shore. There was a long moment before I recognized the sound. I dropped to the deck.

  The chain unraveled, sending the anchor crashing back down.

  Nyla had reacted the same way. “We’re out of range,” I shouted, as much to remind myself as her.

  I pulled myself up and turned the winch again. Gunshots grew more frequent, but I didn’t stop turning, and neither did she. Peering through the railing, I couldn’t see any gray-green water at all anymore, which meant that the rats were close.

  Tarn was unfurling the mainsail, while Dennis filled it with powerful gusts of his element. As the ship began to move slightly, they both seemed to relax.

  “We might be all right,” said Tarn. “I think we . . .”

  She pointed toward my anchor chain. At least twenty rats were clinging to the links. As they reached the level of the deck, they jumped free and landed on the ship.

  Nyla screamed, assuring us that the same thing was happening on her chain. My instinct was to let the chain slide back down into the water, but then nothing would prevent the rats from climbing. I shouted to Nyla not to let go of her winch either, but it was too late—she had already released the handle in horror.

  “Get it back up,” I yelled.

  Tarn understood immediately. She left her station at the sail to assist Nyla. Rats were spreading across the deck now, having caught a ride on my chain. At least with the anchor stowed, there was a limit to how many more of them could come.

  The rats had appeared perfectly organized as they swam across the sound. Now they crisscrossed, their movements unpredictable and chaotic. Even though I couldn’t explain it, I had no doubt that even out here they were being controlled by the clan boy’s awesome element.

  “Watch out, Thomas,” said Dennis.

  They
surrounded me in an instant. I didn’t panic, though. Oddly, I felt immune to them. I’d already been exposed to the Plague when they bit me in Skeleton Town. Now I needed to prevent the others on board from being bitten as well.

  I grabbed a coiled rope and whipped it back and forth across the deck. It was thick and heavy and knocked several rats overboard with each swing. But there were always more.

  A scream from the stern pulled me around. With their anchor still partially submerged, Tarn and Nyla were being deluged with rats. Dennis left the sail and sent powerful gusts of air across the deck, like a gigantic broom sweeping everything aside. Nyla and Tarn fought to hold their ground against it as the anchor broke the surface and they locked off the chain.

  The ship began to move quicker. We were pulling away from the sea of rats, but hundreds had already boarded.

  “Thomas,” Dennis called out. “We need to combine.”

  He was almost at the stern now, and I was near the bow. Neither of us could afford to stop what we were doing to race across the deck.

  “Combine with Nyla,” I shouted back to him.

  She was crouching on the deck only a couple yards from him. He barely had time to register that she was there when she lunged for his hand and the gusts of wind accelerated. And then stopped, replaced by an eerie stillness.

  “Down!” she screamed.

  I dropped to the deck as the atmosphere shifted. I felt like I was caught in a vacuum, as if all the air surrounding the ship had been gathered up. Then it erupted in an explosion that cleared the deck of rats and sent several wooden crates flying through the air. I rolled away as a large one landed beside me and burst through the wooden planks.

  “Nyla?” I shouted. “Tarn?” I got on my knees and surveyed the desolation. Every object not tied down had gone, bursting through the ship’s steel railing as if it were made of twine.

  The others heaved themselves into a seated position. Tarn stared at Dennis and Nyla, mouth open, saying nothing. The two of them looked shaken, like they couldn’t quite believe what they’d done.

  An odd sound distracted me then. It came from below deck, but I couldn’t place it. Was it an animal? Or the weakened planks shifting beneath us? I pressed my ear against the deck.