by Antony John
She leaned back and studied me. “Not bad. You just need a little more around the temples.”
I loaded up two fingers and applied the ash in slow circles.
“You missed a bit.” I could feel her breath as she pointed to a spot on my face that I couldn’t see. Her pendant swung between us. “Right there.”
“Here?”
“No.” She leaned forward, took hold of a flap of my sleeve, and guided my hand to the right spot. But I was aware of nothing but her lips, slightly parted, and her tongue touching the space between her teeth. “Right there,” she whispered.
I imagined I could feel the warmth of her hand where she still held my sleeve, her fingers glancing the hairs on my arm. I let my arm sink, just enough that we could touch again, like yesterday. Make the connection.
Alice pulled back suddenly. I froze, and so did she.
“I-I’m sorry,” she said. “You surprised me.”
I tried to nod—something vaguely reassuring—but the look in her eyes wasn’t one of surprise. It was worse than that. It was the same expression Rose wore whenever I tried to get close—appalled, disgusted. I’d come to expect it from Rose now, but Alice had touched me. She’d let our hands connect, and sighed contentedly when my fingers brushed her neck.
Had I just imagined it?
No. Alice always knew exactly what she was doing.
“Why did you touch me yesterday?” I asked, struggling to stay calm.
“Because I wanted to.”
“And now?”
“It’s complicated.”
I wanted to laugh, but couldn’t. “Complicated?”
“Yes.” She studied her blackened hands. “I’m sorry. I’ll understand if you don’t want to come with me anymore.”
Now I was just plain angry. “I’m not doing this for you. We all need answers, right? Especially Rose.” I threw in the name out of spite, and was pleased when Alice flinched.
“Fine. Well, just remember that I’ve explored Roanoke Island by myself and didn’t get caught. I know a lot of the Guardians’ secrets, and they don’t even realize it. What we’re about to do . . . it’s something I’m very good at.”
“This is different. Even if we make it across without being seen, we might not get close enough to hear anything.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll hear them.” She sounded amused.
“What do you mean, you’ll hear them? We’re not splitting up.”
“No, we’re not. But you’ve got to trust me, okay? Even when you’re not sure . . . promise you’ll trust me.”
She wore a look I hadn’t seen before: sincere and earnest, but also vulnerable, as though my response carried enormous weight.
“I do.”
She began to apply the remaining ash to her hands. I did the same, until not even the smallest piece of skin was showing. As the world around us was plunged into darkness, I could barely see her at all.
“I won’t let the pirates win, Thom. I never let anyone win. I’m just not a good loser.”
CHAPTER 20
The first paddle strokes were the worst. Every muscle in my arms protested, but I blocked out the pain. I couldn’t afford to be weak. Not with the others back in the shelter, waiting for news and reassurance. And not with Alice before me—her strokes barely a whisper, shoulders rocking back and forth, tunic shifting like the water beneath us.
We headed south and hugged the Roanoke Island shoreline before we set out across the sound. Then we paddled due east past the southern edge of Pond Island. The pirates were dangerously close here—a couple hundred yards away—and I imagined I could hear their voices carried on the breeze.
We paused just long enough to force down some nuts and drink some more water. I wanted to break the silence and tension, but we couldn’t take that risk. Besides, what use would words be? Clouds still blanketed the sky, and the water still lapped against our canoe, and the pirates still had all the answers.
Alice pushed harder as we entered open water. Bonfires dotted the Hatteras Island shoreline less than a mile away, their angry orange flames contorted by the freshening breeze. Occasionally I saw pirates too—resting and waiting. I tried to make out their faces, but couldn’t.
After several strokes, I realized I was looking for one in particular: the man with long dark hair and colorful arms. The one with the telescope. My mother’s murderer. Who is he? I thought. What does he want with us? What do we have that’s worth sacrificing so much? Why hasn’t he captured us already?
At Hatteras Island, Alice directed us toward one of the narrow channels through the marsh. We took fewer strokes now, just glided forward. Instead of running aground, we stopped a few yards short, where the canoe would be less likely to be found. Alice wrapped a length of rope around several blades of tall needlerush and tethered the canoe.
“Will it hold?” I whispered.
“Should. We’re sheltered here. Not much swell to loosen the knot.” She sounded like she’d done it a hundred times before. “Have some nuts, and drink some more water. Remember, we carry nothing.”
I did as she said. By the time I was done, I felt sick to my stomach, but my mouth was still dry.
Alice closed her bag and stuffed it under her seat, so I did too. She removed her shoes and eased her legs over the side of the canoe, her feet sliding into the marsh. Again I followed her lead. Together we pressed onward until the marsh dried out and we felt solid ground beneath our bare feet.
Sitting on the dirt bank, I used the edge of my tunic to dry my feet, and put my shoes back on. Once we were ready, we kept low and sprinted toward a line of pine trees, where Alice dropped to a crouch on a bed of needles. Mosquitoes filled the air around us and feasted on every piece of uncovered skin.
We took several moments to scan the island and get our bearings. I knew this place well—the wooded area was narrow and sparse—and as we crept through it I made out the glow of bonfires to the north and east. I imagined I could feel the heat as sweat dripped down my forehead.
“Do you smell that?” whispered Alice urgently as we emerged the other side.
I sniffed the air. Sure enough, there was a faint odor of cooking meat blowing from the direction of one of the fires. “What is it?”
Alice looked horrified, but then she shook her head ambivalently. “I-I can’t be sure.”
I waited for her to tell me what she suspected, but she wore her stoic face again.
“We’ll head for the largest fire, over there,” she said, pointing to one just beyond the ridge of dunes.
“The one where the smell is coming from?”
“Yes. If they’re cooking, they’ll be distracted. They’re probably not keeping watch either. Anyway, the fire’s not close to the water’s edge, so I don’t think it’s a lookout.”
That made sense, though I was still puzzled by what they were cooking. I’d never smelled anything like it before. It certainly wasn’t fish, though what else could they have caught?
We dropped to all fours as pine needles and dirt gave way to sand. There wasn’t much vegetation to hide us here, so we shuffled forward, one eye fixed on our surroundings. Finally we shimmied up one of the dunes and settled in behind a large clump of grass.
The bonfire was barely twenty yards in front of us. Through the grass fronds I counted eleven pirates. They sat around the perimeter of the fire and stared intently at a makeshift spit. Cooking slowly, its body severed and rearranged to fit on the spit, was one of Alice’s beloved wild horses.
I turned to her instinctively. She closed her eyes, but she didn’t seem shocked, just resigned. I wanted to tell her I was sorry, but we were too close to the pirates to risk speaking now.
I faced the fire again. Horse fat glistened in the flames, body parts spitting and crackling in the heat. The smell was powerful, pushed toward us by the ocean breeze. The sig
ht was so horrific that it took me a while to tune in to the men’s voices. Even then I struggled to hear them until their conversation became louder and more hostile.
“Well, I say we eat our fill while we’re here,” complained one pirate, a strong-looking man perhaps ten years older than me.
“Forget it, Jossi,” replied a much older man. “There’s a reason we’ve survived this long, and it isn’t ’cause we eat everything in sight.”
“Then who we saving the other horses for, huh? I ain’t sticking around here ’til I starve.”
This announcement was met by a murmur of agreement.
“How many of them kids are there, anyway?” demanded another pirate.
The old pirate produced a hacking cough. “Dare isn’t sure.”
Jossi whistled through holes where his teeth should have been. “Ain’t sure? Last I heard, this mission was destined. It don’t exactly fill me with confidence that he ain’t even sure how many of them there are.”
“He said it looked like four or five. Maybe six.”
Angry laughter rippled around the circle. Jossi spat into the fire. “You know what I say, old man? I say it looks like Dare’s lost his edge. I think y’all know it too. We gave up a good life to follow him here. During hurricane season.”
“No one forced you.”
Everyone was muttering now, but Jossi shouted, “That ain’t the point. We’re trusting our lives to him. The way you say it, thirteen years ago Dare didn’t need no damned telescope just to count kids on a beach.”
Alice tilted her head toward me. It was oddly comforting to discover they didn’t know everything about us yet.
The old man was silent now, but another pirate spoke up. “If you’re so smart, Jossi, how ’bout you explain what them kids is doing on Roanoke Island in the first place.”
Jossi shrugged. “Who cares? It’s been two days. I say we grab ’em.”
“Well, someone’s changed his tune, eh?” growled the old man. “Two days ago you called that girl a liar for saying the kids were on Roanoke. Beat her bad too, till she sent us south instead. Well, now look—damn, if she wasn’t telling the truth all along. And you’re ready to head over to Roanoke just as quick as you can.”
“Why not?”
“They may’ve been lucky, is why not. Or it hasn’t taken effect yet. Plague can take days, remember?” He brushed sand from his hands. “Either way, we wait. You think them Guardians would’ve set up camp on this godforsaken sandbar if they could’ve lived safely in that town?”
“But them kids are living safely.”
“You sure about that? You volunteering to be first across the bridge?”
For a moment Jossi was silent. “Dare should’ve let me take that canoe we found. Get me within two hundred yards, I could’ve taken down every last one of ’em.”
“We need the kids alive. At first, anyway.”
“I wouldn’t kill them, old man. Just a single shot to the leg. Something to slow ’em down. Instead, we’re waiting to see who dies first: us or them.”
“Quit your whining. They can’t hold out forever. Anyway, they won’t all be dying, will they? Least, not until we get them. That’s the whole point.”
Jossi let out a single laugh. “So says the mighty Dare. But what if he’s wrong? What if they’re just fine over there?”
The old man took his time before answering. “Then I’d say the solution is not only real, but more powerful than we ever imagined.”
“Pah! The other explanation is there ain’t no Plague anymore. What if Dare’s precious solution ain’t even real . . . just something to distract us—”
Suddenly Alice drove my head against the dune. Sand scraped my face and crept into my open mouth. Terrified, she clenched her teeth and jammed a finger against her lips.
I didn’t react because I didn’t need to. I could hear the footsteps too now, the slow grinding of sand that grew closer every moment.
I closed my eyes and waited for the sound to die away, but it didn’t. Whoever it was, was still headed our way. Clenching my fist, I made a decision right then: I’d fight back. If not for me, for our families. And my mother.
Finally, I opened an eye. A few yards behind Alice, illuminated by the distant fire, I glimpsed someone.
He had long dark hair and colorful arms.
CHAPTER 21
Dare.
He was no more than five yards away, breathing heavily. When he stopped moving, I was certain he’d seen us.
Instead he crouched down and eavesdropped on the pirates’ conversation. A moment later he strode confidently around the dune, his footsteps finally, mercifully, growing quieter.
I looked at Alice as I stole several deep breaths. She mouthed the word sorry to me, but I shook my head. She didn’t need to apologize. If not for her, we’d have been caught for sure.
I peered through the grass again and in the dancing firelight saw the man who had come so close to discovering us. He was as tall as I’d thought, though thin and wiry. His sinewy arms bore images I still couldn’t make out, in a rainbow of colors—most of all red, like spilled blood that wouldn’t wash off.
“Well, well, if it ain’t Dare,” said the pirate named Jossi. “Thought we’d lost you.”
“I’m sure you missed me.” Dare’s rich voice oozed sarcasm.
“Where you been?”
With exaggerated slowness, Dare removed something from his left trouser pocket. It was clear that he was used to having everyone’s attention, and enjoyed the power. “I visited Bodie Lighthouse.”
“Why? We know the children ain’t been there.”
“Agreed.”
“Anyways,” added the old man, “you and I went there thirteen years ago. The door was locked . . . hadn’t been opened in years. Probably rusted shut by now.”
In his hand Dare held what looked like a piece of paper. “Actually, the door wasn’t rusted shut. It opened easily. And the lantern room is filled with newspapers, photographs, and enough food and water for a siege.”
This announcement was met with silence. I turned to Alice to see if the words meant anything to her, but she shook her head. Beside the fire, Dare smiled at the pirates’ stunned expressions.
“Oh, yes. Someone has been living there, all right. But there’s only bedding for one person. And from the freshness of the water, I’d say whoever it is left when they saw us coming.” He allowed the silence to linger. When he spoke again, his voice was tinged with venom. “All of which gets me thinking those kids have themselves an ally now.”
“Dare, I—”
“Shut up! I gave an order to inspect the lighthouse. But none of you went, and now we’ve wasted a day.” He took a deep breath, struggling to remain calm. “You really think they’ll surrender just ’cause we destroyed their miserable little colony once before? You think that seeing us on Pond Island is giving them nightmares? ’Cause I don’t. I bet right now they’re laughing at us.”
Another pirate spoke up, his voice shaky. “But . . . we questioned them older children. They swore they ain’t seen or heard of no Guardians ’cept the ones we captured.”
Dare sat down and crossed his legs. “Then I’d say we have an even bigger problem. That lighthouse is only six miles away from their colony. But someone has been living there in secret. Now, who would be able to do that?”
The man rubbed his forehead. “You don’t mean . . . the seer.”
“Who else?”
“But she’d been exiled last time we was here.”
“Yes, she had. And she’d left—just like they told her to. But what if she came back?”
“Why would she?”
“Why do you think? Homesickness. Maybe she wanted to watch her grandchildren grow. It doesn’t exactly matter why.”
Jossi stood and brushed sand from his trousers.
“Let me get this straight. She weren’t around thirteen years ago, but now she’s back?”
“So it would seem,” agreed Dare.
“Well, that’s one explanation. Or it might just be these so-called visions of yours are make-believe.”
The men fell into complete silence. No one moved.
“My visions are more accurate than you can imagine. Thirteen years ago, I said the solution was here. Now it seems I was right. Believe me, the solution is on Roanoke Island.”
Jossi began to circle around the perimeter of the bonfire. “Ah, the solution. Course, you also said them kids would come to us.”
“And they did. Just not the right one.”
“Hmm. That must be mighty disappointing for you, Dare. To think you burned down their colony just to get them Guardians to talk, and they still lied.” Jossi laughed. “But I guess you missed that one, huh?”
Dare remained still, his face unreadable.
Jossi finally drew alongside him. “You know what I think? I think—”
There was a flash of movement, and a cry pierced the air.
I held my breath as I tried to work out what had happened, but an eternity passed before Jossi collapsed to his knees. Still screaming, he held his right hand in front of his face.
In the firelight that glowed behind him, I saw the space where his pointer finger used to be.
Dare was standing now, their positions reversed. “Yes, Jossi, I know precisely what you think. You think it’s time for a new leader. You think I can’t hear the click as you pull back the trigger on your gun. You think I didn’t foresee this from the moment the plan crossed your tiny mind twelve days ago. You think I wouldn’t notice you were supposed to be on the ship guarding the prisoners tonight.” Dare shook his head. “Even now, you’re thinking it’s pure coincidence that I waited for you to get within striking distance before I severed your trigger finger.”
Jossi was scrabbling around in the sand, presumably trying to find his finger. The thought was so sickening that it took me a moment to realize what Dare had just said: Someone was guarding the prisoners. Our families were alive. It was the news we had come to hear. I should have been relieved, but instead they seemed as far away as ever. I couldn’t even make out the ship anchored offshore.
