Vampirates: Tide of Terror

by Justin Somper

  At last the flames gave way to velvet darkness and she lost the sense of rapid movement as she became enclosed in a blanket of black. Then, just as suddenly, the sky was filled with starlight and the balcony continued onward, her eyes dazzled by the light of the stars and moon. It was the most incredible adrenaline rush she had ever felt. How blessed she was, she thought, to be able to experience the world in this way. How many others were granted a chance like this?

  Then the stars began to fade as the balcony entered the inevitable mist. She was a little sad to leave the night sky behind but she knew that it was only a staging post on her journey. So she submitted to the mist, aware that it was like the anteroom which led onto the Vampirate ship. In a matter of seconds, she would be there again. She sighed, looking forward to seeing Lorcan. This time, she decided, she was going to talk to the captain. This time, she was going to find out more about Lorcan’s wound and what she could do to help.

  As the mist slipped away, she found herself back on the deck of the ship. Just as before, she could not feel her feet on the boards — as if she were hovering just a little above them. It was nighttime and Darcy had lit all the lamps. Mu-sic was playing. Familiar, percussive music. Grace felt a frisson. She had been right. Tonight was the night of the Feast.

  The deck was crowded with vampires, taking their passagiata — an extended stroll around the deck in all their finery — before the Feast got underway. A group of them were striding straight toward her, as if they did not see her. She darted to one side, just in time. A moment later and they would have trampled her underfoot. She turned and watched them pass. They appeared utterly unaware of her — no doubt solely possessed by the hunger that had been growing in them and which would, in a matter of hours, at last be sated.

  She watched another pack of them take their turn around the deck. One of them stared at her strangely as he passed, his head almost twisting off its axis. Grace shivered. She remembered seeing him at the last Feast she had witnessed. She didn’t know his name but his face had unnerved her then, just as it did now. But, thankfully, in an instant he was gone and another gaggle brushed past her, without even glancing in her direction.

  She made herself as comfortable as she could against the deck rail, still feeling as though there was an invisible barrier between the rail and her body. She was pleased to be back, though. And this time, she was going to get some answers.

  “Well, look who it isn’t!”

  Grace was tugged out of her reverie by the familiar cockney voice.

  “Darcy!”

  There, before her, was Darcy Flotsam, resplendent in a dress of sky blue chiffon with a trim of gold sequins. “Figurehead by day, figure of fun by night!” exclaimed Darcy, reaching out her arms to hug Grace. They passed straight through her.

  “Oh!” sighed Darcy. “I hoped you was back for real this time!”

  Grace shook her head. “I wish I was, Darcy. But I don’t know how to make it happen. Do you?”

  Darcy shook her head. “You’d have to ask the captain about that. All I know is that when you’re on a visit — like you are now, like I was to that pirate ship of yours — well, the only people who can see you and hear you are those of us who’ve got a connection with you. The captain explained that much to me.”

  Grace nodded. Now she understood why some of the ship’s inhabitants appeared to stare right through her, while to others — like Darcy and Lorcan — she seemed as real as the very boards of the deck.

  “Oh, Darcy,” Grace said. “After I saw you last time, I did what you said. I went to see Lorcan.”

  Darcy nodded sadly. “He’s in an awful way.”

  “I know, Darcy, and it’s all my fault.”

  Darcy shook her head. “No, Grace. He knows you think that. But it isn’t your fault.”

  “Yes,” Grace insisted, “it is. But I’m going to help him. I’m going to find a way back here properly and I’m going to find a cure.”

  Darcy looked at Grace sadly.

  “What is it? Has something else happened?”

  “His sight shows no signs of improving,” said Darcy, “but it’s worse than that. He refuses to take blood. He’s growing so weak. He has taken to his bed. Oh, Grace, I don’t know how long he can survive. Tonight is the Feast but Lorcan won’t even leave his cabin for blood. It’s as if he’s given up.”

  Grace was chilled by this latest turn of events. She had to do something to help — but what? She didn’t know how long she could stay this time, and not being able to touch any-thing or anyone was becoming more and more frustrating.

  “I must go,” Darcy said. “I wish I could stay and talk, but I must go and take my seat at the table.”

  “Of course,” Grace said, “You go. You must. I’ll wait here, as long as I can. Come and look for me later.”

  Darcy nodded. Her face was wet with tears.

  “Fabulous dress!” Grace called after her.

  When Darcy turned again, she was smiling through her tears and she gave Grace a delicate curtsy.

  The strange Feast music grew to a crescendo and Grace watched as the deck completely cleared. She imagined the twin lines of vampires and donors arriving at the banquet hall and taking their places. She was tempted to go and watch but something held her in place up here — some power which she couldn’t quite explain.

  She felt her eyes drooping with tiredness. No. She tried to fight it, not wanting to be carried away from the ship — not after so brief a visit. But her lids were heavy and there was nothing she could do. Her eyes closed and she fell into a deep state of relaxation, as if she were floating on the dark waters once more. She did not fight the feeling, knowing that it would carry her wherever it wanted.

  The next thing she heard was a cry, or rather, a roar. Her eyes opened and she found, to her surprise, that she was still on the deck of the Vampirate ship. She hadn’t been taken anywhere else — she had simply drifted off to sleep. She was unsure of how much time had passed, but the music had faded now so she sensed that the Feast was over and that the vampires and donors were in their cabins, where the sharing was taking place.

  “Stop!”

  She recognized the voice immediately. How could she not? It was strong and firm, yet it did not rise above the volume of a whisper.

  She scanned the deck and saw the captain striding out across the boards, calling to someone.

  “I said, stop!”

  She turned and saw that the captain was not addressing one vampire, but three of them. They turned their faces back to the captain. Grace recoiled. Their eyes were aflame. She had seen Sidorio look like this before, but witnessing a group of them in this frenzied state was all the more terrifying. She recognized two of the vampires. She had seen them talking — conspiring, she now realized — on her previous journey to the ship.

  When they spoke, their words were like flames, licking across the deck toward the captain.

  “Need more blood. Need more . . .”

  “No,” said the captain. “You have taken your fill. More than your fill.”

  “Need more . . .”

  Now Grace saw, as they turned in her direction, that the gaggle of vampires held three donors tightly within their grasp. The donors looked terrified.

  “Stop,” said the captain once more. “Release the donors. Return to your cabins.”

  In answer, the vampires let out a communal hiss, their words now unintelligible. Grace shivered, glad that she was hidden from view. She did not think that these vampires would be able to see her, but she didn’t want to take any chances all the same.

  “I will tell you only once more,” the captain said now. “Release the donors.”

  “Or what?” crackled a reply.

  “There is no alternative,” the captain said coolly. “You have only one option. Release them.”

  “The captain’s way is not the only way,” returned the hiss.

  “The captain is not the only captain,” crackled another.

  “The ship is
not the only ship,” added the third.

  “Enough! Release them!” said the captain. At his words, the deck was ringed with a sudden flash of light. The vampires leaped out of its path, pulling in their limbs to protect themselves. At the same time, the donors threw themselves toward the light.

  “Go inside,” the captain said to them, calmly but urgently. Weak as they were, they needed no repeat of the order.

  The vampires had thrown themselves together upon the deck and now the captain approached them once more. Darkness restored, the creatures rose again, their eyes bright, though the fire that had burned before was now dull.

  “I have been patient,” the captain said, “but my patience has run dry.”

  The vampires looked at him with eyes that were now full of fear and regret. In a matter of moments, thought Grace, they had gone from being monsters to looking like guilty schoolchildren. But it was all too easy to remember the horror she had seen before.

  One of them addressed the captain. “Sometimes this need grows out of control, Captain,” he wheedled.

  “We are not all as disciplined as you,” said a second.

  “Sometimes our desire seems to feed upon itself,” spoke the third.

  “I am aware of all these things,” the captain said, still in his measured whisper.

  “Then help us,” hissed the first.

  “You have rejected my help, Lumar,” the captain said, sadly. “There is no more I can do for you. It is time for you to leave this ship.”

  “No, Captain. Do not say such things.” Lumar cowered before the captain.

  “If Lumar goes, then we must follow,” said one of his companions. Some of the vampires’ former malevolence was returning in their voices — the wings of the threat opening out like a moth.

  “Indeed,” said the captain, unmoved. “It cannot be any other way.”

  “But where shall we go?” asked the third — a girl.

  “To find Sidorio,” hissed her companion, greed spilling from his voice. “Sidorio will help us to meet our needs.”

  Grace shivered. So they knew — or at least suspected — that Sidorio was out there in the night, waiting for them. Was it wise of the captain to let others out to join the first exile? Wasn’t he just swelling the risk of an enemy force building?

  “Go, then,” the captain said. “Go and find your other way.”

  His voice was heavy with disappointment, Grace thought. He turned and headed back toward his cabin.

  The three exiled vampires still clung to the deck rail, as if to conspire further.

  “I said — leave!” The captain turned suddenly and ran toward them. As he did so, the cape he was wearing flashed with veins of light. Above them, the sails of the ship glowed and began to flap. Bolts of fire shot across the wooden boards of the deck.

  Grace had to close her eyes to protect them from the glare. When she finally opened them again, the vampires had disappeared.

  The captain stood at the deck rail, his head in his hands.

  Grace left her shelter and went over to him.

  He seemed unaware of her until she was at his side, reaching out her hand toward the strange material of his cape. Even this, she found to her frustration, was beyond her touch.

  “Grace,” he whispered, “Grace. What are you doing here?” He did not sound pleased to see her.

  “I came back to help,” she said. “I know things are wrong. I just want to help.”

  “You cannot help.” His whispers filled her head. “You must leave at once, and do not think of returning.”

  “But, Captain . . .”

  “This is how it must be, Grace.” He did not turn toward her, his mask facing straight out to the ocean.

  “But, Captain,” she said again, with tears in her eyes, “Lorcan is so badly wounded. And it is all my fault . . .”

  “Yes,” the captain said, turning at last. “Yes, so now you know the result of your coming to the ship. And that is why you must stay away.”

  Tears were flowing down Grace’s face now, but she would not give up. Not yet.

  “Please, Captain. If I came back properly perhaps I could help.”

  “You think you could cure Lorcan’s blindness? How do you propose to do that? Tell me!”

  His voice remained a whisper but she could hear the anger within it nevertheless.

  “Speak, child!”

  “I don’t know, Captain. I don’t know how I could help. Or even if I could.”

  “It’s very simple, Grace,” said the captain. “There is only one way you can help. Go back. And stay away.”

  Grace couldn’t believe her ears. Was this how it ended? Here, on this deck? Was Lorcan destined to stay blind? And now that he refused to take blood, what then? She couldn’t bear to leave things like this — his fate unknown. But the captain had spoken and he had no more words for her. He turned and walked slowly back across the deck.

  Grace stood there, at the edge of the deck, tears falling once more. They were still falling as the mist enclosed her and she was carried away from the Vampirate ship —

  never to return.

  25

  ZANSHIN

  “Grace! Grace, it’s Connor!”

  “What do you want?”

  “Can I come in?”

  “All right.”

  Connor and Jacoby waited outside.

  The door opened and Grace poked her head around it.

  “Morning, sleepyhead!” Connor said, reaching out his hand to ruffle her hair.

  “Stop it!” she said. “You know I hate that!”

  “You look rough as guts, sis. What’s up?”

  “I slept badly, okay? What time is it anyway?”

  “Ten to seven. Jacoby and I are going to SSM. It’s T’ai Chi with Captain Solomos today. Are you up for it?”

  Grace shook her head. “I’ll catch you later,” she said, closing the door. Connor shrugged and smiled at Jacoby. “I told you, she’s really not good in the mornings!”

  Connor knocked at Grace’s door again. He waited.

  “Yes?” The cry was faint.

  “Grace, it’s me!”

  He heard footsteps. The door opened again.

  “I told you, I’m not coming to SSM —”

  “Grace, we’ve done SSM. It’s almost half past eight. What planet are you on this morning?”

  “I’m just really tired, okay?”

  “You look upset.”

  “I’m upset you woke me up at ten to seven! And now again! I just need to rest. Is it really such a big deal?”

  “But it’s breakfast time. And then Commodore Kuo’s giving this cool lecture about swordsmanship. It’s for the final year students but he’s asked us along.”

  “I don’t think I’m going to make any classes today,” said Grace. “Not this morning, anyway.”

  “But, Grace, this is the headmaster —”

  “Enjoy!” she said, closing the door in his face.

  Connor frowned. It was a real honor being invited to attend this class by Commodore Kuo. But he knew from experience that once Grace’s mind was made up, it was implacable. Well, let her sleep! He wasn’t going to let her put a cloud over his day. He turned away and set off in search of Jacoby.

  On the other side of the door, Grace slumped down onto the floor and put her head in her hands. She couldn’t stop thinking about the Vampirate ship — about Lorcan’s fading well-being and the captain’s cruel words to her. He might as well have run a blade through her heart.

  Commodore Kuo nodded to Connor and Jacoby as they entered the lecture theater.

  “Ah, Mister Tempest and Mister Blunt. Good morning, my friends. Do take a seat.”

  Connor wondered if he should explain Grace’s absence, but the headmaster didn’t seem perturbed so perhaps it was best to say nothing.

  Commodore Kuo was standing by a podium, on which he had set some papers and a small, leather-bound book. The lecture theater had enough seats to accommodate the Academy’s enti
re student body but, for this morning’s lecture, a semicircle of sixteen chairs had been formed at the front, close to the podium. There were two spare seats at the center, which Connor and Jacoby now claimed. Further along the line, Jasmine Peacock gave them a discreet wave. Connor nodded back, smiling.

  The headmaster stepped in front of the podium and looked out toward the audience. The faces of sixteen eager teenagers looked back at him. “Today,” he began, “we shall consider the notion of zanshin. . . . But before we do, for any of you who have not yet met him, let me intro-duce you to our guest at the Academy, Connor Tempest.”

  The Year 10 students now turned toward Connor and he felt as embarrassed as if a spotlight had been turned full-blast upon him.

  “Connor and his sister Grace,” Commodore Kuo continued, apparently oblivious to Connor’s unease, “have spent three months aboard The Diablo, under the command of Captain Molucco Wrathe.”

  It was clear from the muffled gasps and nods that Connor had suddenly risen in their estimation. He smiled to himself. Evidently, whatever doubts the staff had about Molucco’s brand of piracy had not filtered down to the student body. To Connor’s peers, Molucco Wrathe was simply a celebrity pirate, whose fame was now rubbing off on Connor himself. All of the other students were two or more years older than he — but in one significant respect, Connor was ahead of them, having already lived the pirate life for real.

  “And I daresay that in those three months, Connor has had cause to perfect his swordsmanship. Would I be right in thinking that, Connor?”

  He nodding, hoping with all his will that the headmaster wasn’t about to call upon him for a demonstration.

  “May I borrow your sword?” Commodore Kuo asked now.

  Connor was surprised but he nodded. He stood and drew his rapier from its scabbard. Then, as Cate had taught him, he gripped the sword at the bottom of its hilt with his left hand and extended it toward the headmaster, the point of the blade facing away from him.

  Commodore Kuo reached out his right hand and placed it above Connor’s hand on the hilt. As Connor released his left hand, the headmaster nodded and placed his own hand on the hilt.