by Antony John
I tried to locate the pirates, but couldn’t see anyone. Meanwhile, the canoe continued its slow, steady progress toward us. Something inside glinted again, and I tried to hone in on it.
That’s when I realized the canoe wasn’t empty at all. “There’s someone inside.”
“Who?” demanded Rose.
“I can’t see.”
She began to run toward the shore, with Dennis right behind.
“It could be a trap,” I shouted, but they didn’t stop.
Alice bent down and picked up two chunks of stone. She handed one to me. “If it’s a trap, use this. Aim for the head. Don’t hesitate.”
We caught up to Rose and Dennis near the water’s edge. The canoe was still a hundred yards away. As I raised the binoculars, Rose waded in and disappeared beneath the water. When she resurfaced, she was already forty yards away.
“Come back!” I shouted.
“She can’t hear you,” said Alice.
Rose ducked underwater again and halved the distance between her and canoe. One more plunge and she surfaced alongside it.
I watched for signs of a trap. Rose would have been completely silent in the water, I was sure of that, but as soon as she touched the canoe, anything might happen.
She seemed to know it too, and circled twice. Content that she was safe, she placed her fingers gently on the rim of the canoe.
In a sudden motion she pulled the canoe down and glanced over the side. Then she ducked under the water again. But not before she screamed.
“What happened?” cried Dennis.
“I don’t know.” She hadn’t tipped the canoe toward us, so I hadn’t seen anything at all. “I’m going in.”
“No,” Alice snapped. “Her element is water. You can’t help her out there.”
Rose surfaced again beside the bow of the canoe. She’d been under a long time. Had something kept her down? Was she struggling?
It certainly didn’t look that way. As I focused on her once more, I noticed that the canoe was moving with her now. She was dragging it to shore.
So why did she look distraught?
Still no pirates, but something told me we were being watched. Why go to the trouble of launching a canoe unless they were going to watch?
I ran into the water as Rose drew closer to the shore. I gripped the rock in my hand, ready to strike anything. Or anyone. But there was no need for that. The canoe contained no pirates, no traps—just Guardian Walt.
His throat had been slit in a perfectly straight line.
I turned away and gagged. Dennis did too.
Alice helped Rose out of the water and held her as she sobbed. But her eyes never left the corpse.
In his hands, Walt held a piece of broken glass. It’s what had reflected the light, brought us to him in the first place. I pried it from his cold fingers and held it up to the light. On one sharp end was a smear of blood.
It was the weapon they’d used to kill him.
Rose was crying, but she was alone. The rest of us were relieved it was old Walt—who’d never recovered after his family had contracted the Plague and returned to Roanoke Island to die quietly. From that day, it had always seemed as though he was waiting for an opportunity to join them.
Had he volunteered for this? Pleaded with the pirates to take his life instead of someone else’s? My father’s, maybe?
Rose broke from Alice and grasped Dennis’s hand. Together, they walked to the shore. When she looked back, it wasn’t at Walt, but at Hatteras Island. They couldn’t return now. Not after this. They were stuck on Roanoke Island, come what may.
We all were.
CHAPTER 18
Alice and I released Walt to the sound. I offered blessing for safe passage. When the words caught in my throat, Alice took over. We spoke kindly and thoughtfully, but it meant nothing. Walt had lost his family and died savagely, knife-like glass slashed across his neck. It was impossible to believe that in his final moments there had been any peace at all.
Back in the shelter, Griffin was slicing vegetables and roots with a swift, efficient motion. He obviously sensed something strange had happened, but trusted me to tell him about it when the time was right. It was part of the unspoken understanding between us.
For once, I doubted there’d ever be a right time.
He put the food in cloths for each of us, but still wouldn’t eat any himself. Instead, he retreated to a corner and began rifling through our dune box.
No one complained about the texture or the taste of the food. Unless Griffin could find more, worse lay ahead.
Afterward, Alice handed each of us a pawpaw, along with a spoon from the stash I’d discovered. Dennis sliced his and Rose’s in half, to save her from having to use her injured hands.
The knife made its way to me next, but before I could cut the fruit, I saw Alice slide her pawpaw behind her back. When she realized I’d seen her, she shook her head, a warning to me to keep quiet. She wore an odd expression too: fierce, determined. It worried me.
Though I was hungry, I followed her lead and saved my fruit. If Alice knew something the rest of us didn’t, I couldn’t afford to ignore her.
My stomach rumbled in displeasure.
“They’re taunting us,” she muttered finally. “Trying to break us. They could be here in less than a strike, but they refuse to cross the bridge. Something strange is going on. We need to find out what it is.”
“How?” I asked.
She flared her nostrils. “I’m going to spy on them tonight.”
“What? You saw what they did to Walt.”
“They won’t catch me. I’m invisible. Always have been.”
“But there are guards at the end of the bridge.”
“I’ll stay away from the bridge. And when I get to Hatteras, I’ll hide the canoe.”
“You can’t paddle a canoe alone!”
She shot me a determined smile. “I’ve done it before, remember?”
Rose narrowed her eyes. It was obvious she didn’t believe Alice, but equally clear that she saw us as a team now.
I waited for her to tell Alice that the plan was madness, but she didn’t. Maybe she figured all was lost already, so what harm could it do? At least, I hoped that was the meaning of her silence.
I couldn’t bear the thought of Alice crossing the sound alone. Facing the pirates alone. No one doubted her bravery, but courage didn’t guarantee safety. If anything, her fearlessness might put her at even greater risk.
I closed my eyes. “I’m going too.”
When I opened them, Alice was staring at me, eyebrows raised. I expected her to say no, that she preferred to work alone.
For once, she didn’t.
* * *
Griffin woke me from a deep sleep. He tugged my blanket hard, as if he’d been trying for a while. Through the small windows near the ceiling the sunset glowed orange and purple. The shelter was almost dark, except for a candle that flickered against the far wall.
Across the shelter, Dennis was already asleep. Rose sat beside him, eyes closed, humming.
Griffin placed something before me: the leather book from
our father’s dune box. He removed a piece of paper and handed it to me. It felt like dead leaves, yellow-brown and brittle. I was afraid it would disintegrate when I touched it.
I knew immediately why Griffin wanted me to see this page. It showed a very young girl—so lifelike, finer than any drawing I’d ever seen. Even more surprising, she was colorful. A brown cloth tied around her waist covered her yellow skin, while her neck was adorned with a row of pale pink shells. From the condition of the picture, she must have lived a long time ago.
Beneath the picture were two letters—J. W.—and a single word. It was faint—barely there at all—but after a moment I deciphered the letters: VIRGINIA. I’d heard
the word before, though I couldn’t remember when or where. Perhaps it was the name of one of the clan ships, or another colony.
Griffin took the page from me and reinserted it into the journal. Then he removed a different one. It was the same girl, same age, same clothes, same word VIRGINIA written carefully underneath. Her bold eyes seemed to stare right at me. But what made my heart beat wildly were her hands, raised skyward, and the tall flames shooting from every fingertip.
One of my earliest memories was of Ananias using his element: the sparks spitting from his fingers while my father held me back so that I wouldn’t be burned. I’d watched his element grow, marveled at his ability, his tolerance to heat. But I’d never seen him produce flames like these.
Now that Griffin had shared this picture with me, I considered showing him the one of our mother. But then I thought of Walt. Had the pirates killed her as easily as they’d dispatched him? Had they cast her adrift too, her body bloated by the sun, gulls feasting on her remains?
A hand brushed my tunic and I snapped back to the present.
You. Be. Strong, signed Griffin. His expression told me it was a statement, not an instruction. I wondered if any of us could be as strong as him.
“You’re awake,” called Rose. She picked up a pile of black clothes and brought them over to me. By then, Griffin had tucked the pictures safely away. In our world of long-kept secrets, he was saving one for us.
“Alice says you need to wear these,” she explained.
“What are they?”
“Some of the clothes Dennis found. I tried to find the best fit, but you’ll need to tie this around you.” She handed me a length of rope. “Go ahead. I won’t watch.”
I retreated to a dark corner and changed into the clothes. The tunic was too big, but the length was perfect; it ended just below my waist. I tied the extra material down with the rope. The trousers were perfect too. “How did you guess my size?”
“I know you. And I’m observant.” She bit her lip, hesitated. “Like that pendant you gave Alice—it’s really pretty.”
I felt the weight of her words. “It was just something I found. I figured . . . because of the one Eleanor has—”
“You don’t need to explain. I understand.”
She inspected her handiwork. When she was satisfied, she looked right at me. “I want you to know, the way the Guardians always keep you and Alice apart . . . it’s not my fault. I never asked them to do that.”
“I believe you.”
“I just want you to be happy. I hope you are . . . happy.” Her eyes welled with tears, but she didn’t cry.
I took in her matted hair and her dirty tunic. She was falling apart. Broken. And she was still beautiful. “Rose, I—”
“Shh. You should go. Alice is waiting near the canoe.”
“Already? It’s not dark yet.”
“Are you afraid she’ll be seen?” Rose flashed a smile—somehow it looked genuine. “This is Alice we’re talking about, remember.”
Yes, Alice was different. She hadn’t even turned four before everyone stopped playing hide-and-seek with her. The game just wasn’t any fun when she could never be found.
Rose covered her mouth with her hand. “One more thing before you go. Dennis thinks . . . no, he knows there’s a storm coming.”
“Another?” I glanced at Dennis’s slender body, the rise and fall of his blanket. “But he might be wrong, right?”
“I don’t think so. Before he went to sleep he was complaining that his head hurts. His echo is very sensitive.” She looked at him pityingly. “His whole element is extraordinary.”
I remembered what Eleanor had said two nights ago, about his element being special. “When is it coming?”
“Tomorrow, he thinks. And it’ll be big.”
“How big?”
“Biggest he’s ever felt.” Fear weighed heavily on her features. “It’s like he’s already in it. Feeling it. He’s told me about the swell, and fallen trees, and the sheer size of it.”
She broke off with a shrug, and I could tell she was holding something back. “What is it, Rose?”
“His element has always been special. More advanced than it should be. But ever since we got to Roanoke, he’s been telling me things I’ve never heard my father say. It’s like he knows so much more here—the kind of detail you can’t believe. It’s all true, though; you can tell by the way he says it. Thing is, the headaches have been much worse too. It’s all just . . . impossible.”
Except that it wasn’t impossible at all. Without her saying it, I knew she was thinking of Griffin finding vegetables a quarter mile away, and Alice creating full flames for the first time. Perhaps she was even reliving the moment she’d caught the trout—how it had happened so quickly that even she seemed surprised.
Is this why the Guardians were anxious to keep us away from Roanoke Island? Perhaps the danger wasn’t Skeleton Town itself, but our elements.
Those of us who had one.
“I’m just saying,” she continued, “please get back quickly. I don’t know when the storm’s coming, but I want you here with us. I have to know you’re safe.”
I glanced around the shelter at the empty spaces where, only two nights earlier, eight of us had lain down to sleep. Tonight there would be only three. “You should light another candle.”
“There aren’t many left.” She smoothed out her tattered tunic to distract herself. “We’ll be all right, though.”
I thought of Dennis, nestled in a pile of blankets. And Griffin, confused by everything that was happening. What would happen to them if Alice and I didn’t make it back?
“You should go, Thomas. Paddle evenly. Conserve—” Her voice caught.
I picked up the bag I’d packed earlier and checked the contents: the knife, the blanket, the pawpaw . . .
As I ran a finger over the fruit’s soft green skin, I pictured Dennis nibbling his pawpaw earlier that afternoon. He’d cried at first, still blaming himself for a situation he couldn’t hope to control, but by the time he finished, he’d seemed calmer. Eating the fruit hadn’t just staved off hunger; it had reassured him that some things remained the same, even in a world turned upside down.
“Here, take this.” I handed the pawpaw to Rose.
“Why?”
“Just in case.”
“In case what?”
Truthfully, I didn’t know the answer.
Rose reached into her pocket and pulled out another untouched pawpaw. The two pieces of fruit rested in the palms of her bandaged hands.
“You saved yours too.”
She shook her head. “Alice gave it to me.” She swallowed hard, and her voice cracked a little. “Just in case.”
CHAPTER 19
I found Alice near the water’s edge, hidden behind a sprawling plant. She wore trousers instead of shorts, a black tunic instead of her vest. It covered her shoulders and arms, seemed to hide the gentle curve of her neck and shoulders. Even though the clothes fit perfectly, she looked uncomfortable.
“Rose knows your size well,” I said.
“Hmm. Yours too.” She raised an eyebrow. “No surprise there.”
There was a bowl in her lap, filled with something gray I couldn’t make out. She stirred the contents rhythmically.
“Does it taste good?”
She laughed. “I doubt it. It’s ash, for camouflage. If you’re hungry, there are nuts in my bag.”
“I don’t think I can eat anything. I’m scared.”
“It’s natural. Helps you stay alert.”
“Aren’t you scared?”
She peered up at me. “Of course I am. But you’ve still got to eat. You need energy.”
“I’m fine,” I said, pacing back and forth beside her.
“No, you’re not. I watched you earlier. You didn’t ea
t or drink enough. Try sipping from the canister.”
“I’ll be all right.”
“No.” Alice narrowed her eyes. “I don’t care if you have to pee over the side of the canoe when we’re halfway across the sound. Once we get to Hatteras we won’t be carrying anything.”
I felt the bag strap pressing into my shoulder. “Why not?”
“We’ve got to travel light, stay silent. Right now, our only advantage is the pirates don’t know we’re coming. We can’t risk giving ourselves away.”
“You’ve thought about this a lot.” I forced down a swig from my canister.
“Trust me, I’ve learned the hard way. The first time I sneaked over to Roanoke Island I carried everything I’d need. But it was dark, see, and when I stopped for a snack, I left my water canister behind. The next day I woke up late because I was so tired—paddling the canoe by myself was torture—and my father asked where my canister was. It was such a small thing, but he wouldn’t let it go. It was like he suspected something, and wanted to punish me. But it taught me a lesson: Only carry what you need, and plan for everything.”
“Have you? Planned for everything?”
She stirred the bowl again, but this time the movement was irregular. “I’m prepared,” she said finally. “I’m always prepared.”
I tugged at my sleeves nervously. Was I prepared? Could I ever be prepared for something like this? “Why didn’t you tell me you were sneaking over to Roanoke Island?”
“Would you have gone with me?” She didn’t look up, but her smile teased me, made it clear she already knew the answer. “I didn’t want you to have to lie for me, Thom. You shouldn’t get into trouble because of me.”
She stopped stirring, and tapped the handle of the fork against the side of the bowl. “All right, I need you to sit down and face me. Do what I do.”
I sat. The sun had finally set, and the wispy clouds that had been stretched across the sky were gathering into something more ominous. In the almost dark, Alice dabbed ash onto her cheeks, a look of intense concentration on her face. Strands of black hair fell across her forehead. She rubbed the powder onto her chin, across her cheekbones, and up around her forehead and ears. My fingers shook as I mimicked her every movement.
