by Antony John
I ran my fingers across the panel. Then I knocked on it once, hard. For a moment there was silence, followed by moaning—quiet but insistent.
The lamp shone brighter, revealing the grain in the wood. I scrabbled about, searching for some kind of handle, like the ring I’d found embedded in the floor. Instead I found a tiny gap running vertically from floor to ceiling. I dug my fingernails into it but couldn’t lever it open.
I called out for Tessa to help me, but there was no answer. When I scanned the corridor, she’d disappeared again.
Griffin pounded down the stairs. The rope was coiled over his shoulder. He headed straight for my lamp.
“Is that Griffin?” shouted Rose from along the corridor. “We need the rope. And the lamp. Dennis says the eye’s about to pass.”
I heard every word, but I didn’t reply. I needed the lamp too. Just for a moment.
Griffin joined me. I didn’t know if he’d guessed who might be behind the wooden panel, or if he simply wanted to help. Either way, I was so grateful to have him next to me.
“Now, Thomas!” yelled Rose.
There was desperation in her voice, but I couldn’t stop. Kyte was still alive. I had to know if my father was too.
Griffin pressed his nails into the gap and pulled, but the panel still didn’t move. The lamp dimmed as my energy waned. Finally, I punched the wood in frustration.
It slid backward. Clicked once. And opened toward us.
Behind the wall was a tiny room, less than two yards deep, high, and wide. A metal cage ran along the back wall, and someone was trapped inside. He was sprawled awkwardly across the floor, hands and feet bound behind him with secure knots.
“Father!” I dropped to my knees and tried to reach him, but I couldn’t squeeze more than two fingers through the holes in the mesh. “It’s me, Father. Thomas.”
At the sound of my voice, he turned his face toward me. It was crusted with dried blood.
“Thomas,” he rasped. “You came.”
“I don’t know how to get you out.”
“Don’t worry about me. Get the others.”
I held the lamp closer and saw that his nose was bent to one side, lips and eyes swollen. When he opened his other eye, a wound on his forehead reopened. It oozed blood.
“I have to get you out.”
“You can’t,” he said again. “Captain has the key.”
“Maybe there’s another key.”
“No. He wouldn’t take that chance . . . someone releasing me by accident.”
“Why did they do this to you?”
He smiled, and one of the scabs on his cheek cracked. “Why, indeed.”
He rolled over so I wouldn’t have to see his injuries. Then he shuffled toward me and splayed his fingers against the side of the cage, so that our fingertips were touching.
I closed my eyes and savored the contact: skin on skin, without a hint of discomfort. As we touched, I realized this was his answer—that his touch was a threat to the pirates. Given everything I’d experienced in the past day, I could imagine why.
I slid my fingers onto the rope that bound his wrists. I picked at the knot, but it didn’t give.
“Don’t bother,” he said. “They spend their lives making knots. They won’t have made a mistake with me.”
I remembered Griffin then, and felt ashamed that he remained in the background, excluded. I moved aside so he could join us. I pointed to Father’s hand against the mesh, meaning for them to touch.
Griffin shook his head. He no doubt remembered the last time they’d touched. Or maybe it was the sight of our father’s blood-soaked face. If he was going to die soon, Griffin didn’t want to know.
Rose screamed my name again, but I couldn’t leave until I knew the truth. “What are we, Father?” I whispered.
Though he barely moved, I could feel his surprise in the way his fingers stiffened. “You found out.” I detected a note of pride in his voice.
“Tell me about our element. I have to know who I am.”
“Element?” He snorted. “Dare can handle an element. But he’s plenty afraid of what you and I can do. I hadn’t seen that man in thirteen years, but the look on his face when he saw me . . . he’s as scared of me now as he was then.”
“Because our touch hurts people?”
“That’s a part of it, but there’s so much more.” He seemed energized by our conversation, as if he’d waited all his life for this moment. “I’m older now—much older—but you can see, Dare wasn’t taking any chances. And if he knew you had it too—”
A scream from above deck spun me around. “What was that?”
Another scream.
Alice.
I rounded the stairs to the deck and sprinted up. Alice was at the stern, pointing into the swirling mist.
As I joined her, I couldn’t see anything at all.
“Put the lamp out,” she snapped. “It interferes with my vision.”
I dropped it at once. “What’s out there?”
“Six,” she whispered. “Six separate paddle strokes. So at least six men.”
When I squinted, I could make out a tiny dot of light searing through the mist. It bobbed up and down. “Who is it?”
“Pirates. I can hear their voices.”
Footsteps drummed against the deck planks as Griffin, Rose, and Dennis joined us.
“Oh, no,” murmured Alice.
“What?”
She didn’t answer. The light was near enough now that it illuminated the space immediately around it—including a man’s face and his colorful arms.
CHAPTER 43
They’re less than a hundred yards away,” said Alice.
Dennis pressed himself against the rail. “They’re crazy. The eye of the storm . . . it’s almost passed.”
As if it were under his command, the wind picked up.
“Do we have time to release the Guardians?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“Why is Dare doing this? Why not wait for us at the shore?”
“Because he doesn’t think you’ll come ashore,” Tessa explained with eerie calm. Once again, I hadn’t seen or heard her arrive. “He thinks you intend to escape in his ship.”
I glanced around me at the vessel, larger than all the colony’s cabins put together. It seemed ridiculous that we would attempt to sail the ship—although with the Guardians’ help, perhaps not impossible. Maybe Dare thought his only hope was to recapture the ship before the storm passed and we released our parents.
But how could he be sure we hadn’t released them already?
The light in the cutter was growing brighter with every stroke. Dare stood in the middle, lantern raised, smile fixed. It occurred to me that with the light so close to his face, he wouldn’t be able to see us. But then, that wasn’t the point. He just wanted us to see him.
“How far away are they?” I asked.
Alice stared at the light. “Seventy yards. They’re moving fast.”
“The tide is with them,” said Rose. She stared intently at the expanse of black water as though she were uncovering its secrets. “It’ll push them south.”
To my left, something creaked loudly. Griffin was pulling the winch that raised the anchor, his face a picture of determination.
“What’s he doing?” shouted Rose.
I ran to help him. “Weighing anchor. If we can get the ship moving, we might be able to avoid them.”
“But there are two anchors,” yelled Alice. She sprinted to the bow and began heaving the winch there as well.
“Rose, stay there and tell us how close they’re getting,” I said. “Dennis, we need to know when the eye’s about to pass.”
They nodded at the same moment that Griffin’s winch jammed. I grabbed a part of the wooden handle and we both
tugged it. Little by little it began to move again. I was surprised at how easily the chain links slid up, clicking against the pulley aside the ship. This was no ordinary vessel.
“How far, Rose?”
“Maybe fifty yards.”
Another turn of the winch. Our hands slipped on the wet handle, but we kept turning it around and around. The anchor chain slithered upward.
“Forty-five.”
I heard the anchor splash out of the water. We all looked to the stern, and the light that wasn’t so little anymore.
“Forty.”
“It’s done,” said Alice, rejoining us.
“It won’t be enough,” cried Rose. “A ship this size needs time to move.”
“Then we’ll use the sails.”
Dennis glanced up. “You can’t. When the hurricane returns, it’ll destroy a sail.”
“Thirty-five yards.”
Alice looked straight at me, and an understanding passed between us: If Dare stepped foot on the ship, the sails were the least of our concerns. “Let’s raise the jib,” she said.
Griffin and I ran after her, past the mainmast to the bow. Dennis followed up the rear.
“Thirty.” Rose’s voice carried on the wind.
Alice and Griffin crouched beside a winch and began turning the handle. Like the anchors, the jib hauled upward with surprising ease. I tried to keep the sail from catching on any obstacles.
“Read the wind, Dennis,” I called out. “Tell us everything.”
“It’s building,” he said. “Eighteen knots—no, nineteen. It’s about to rain. It’ll be heavy right away.”
The sail was unfurling, but not quickly enough.
“Twenty yards.” Rose sounded frantic.
At last the jib billowed as the wind filled it. Alice locked the winch in place and looked at the sound to see if we were moving.
“Fifteen yards!”
“Twenty-two knots,” muttered Dennis. “It’s not enough.” He stared at the sail, which snapped taut as a gust swept across the deck. “Twenty-eight.” The ship groaned. “Thirty-one.”
“Ten yards,” Rose screamed. “They’re about to reach the sailboats.”
The sailboats. I’d forgotten they were tethered to the stern.
A ferocious gust knocked me right over. From above us came the sound of tearing fabric.
“Sorry,” muttered Dennis. He seemed shocked, as though he’d just awoken from a trance. “I didn’t mean—”
None of us waited to hear what came next. We ran to the stern, flat footsteps to keep from slipping on the damp planking.
“Get back from the railing,” I yelled, but Rose didn’t move. Instead, she was leaning over it, dragging up the rope that still dangled over the side.
“They’ll use it to climb,” she shouted back.
As soon as I reached her, I grabbed the rope too, but it wasn’t budging. I drove my foot against the rail and used my full body weight to pull, but it stayed fast.
“Help us, Alice. We can’t—”
A sound split the air, short and sharp like lightning splitting a tree.
“Get back!” screamed Tessa.
Rose slipped on the deck and almost fell down.
“Where have you been?” I yelled. But Tessa didn’t reply. Instead she pulled Rose around and looked over her whole body.
“What was that sound?” asked Rose.
Tessa huffed. “Something else your Guardians didn’t tell you about.”
The rope shifted from side to side, and I knew that someone was climbing—someone much heavier than me.
Alice picked up the rope coil that Griffin had been carrying. She ran her free hand back and forth across it, faster and faster. I smelled burning. A spark became a flame, and soon the rope was consumed by fire. She threw it overboard.
Cries erupted from the boat below. But the rope attached to the rail didn’t loosen.
“Stay back,” said Tessa. She pulled a knife from the folds of her tunic, unsheathed it, and drove it into the rope. She began to saw back and forth.
The sound split the air again.
Tessa wasn’t sawing anymore. In fact, she wasn’t moving at all. Finally she staggered back and collapsed onto the deck, her right hand clasped against her left shoulder.
I knelt beside her. “What’s the matter?”
She wouldn’t let go of her shoulder. I grabbed a fold of cloth and eased her arm away, careful not to touch her. There was something damp and sticky on her sleeve.
“What happened?” asked Alice.
“I don’t know. She’s bleeding. A lot.”
Tessa clenched her teeth. “Don’t fight him, Thomas. His weapon will kill you.” She stole a breath, but it seemed to hurt her. “Get below deck. Lock the hatch.”
“What about you?”
“I’m not afraid of pirates. Now go!”
“Too late,” shouted Dennis.
A hand appeared on the rail.
CHAPTER 44
I snatched the knife that lay on the deck beside Tessa, leaped toward the rail, and brought the blade down into the center of the pirate’s hand.
His scream was excruciating. When he slipped away, the knife was embedded so firmly that he took it overboard with him. There was a splash as he hit the water.
Alice tugged on my tunic. “Get back, Thom.”
I shrugged her off and peered over the rail. We had to know what we were up against.
The cutter was almost touching the ship, tethered to the rope hanging from the rail. Our capsized sailboats looked small beside it. Five men were lined up at the bow, ready to board. Alice’s burning rope had been tossed aside.
The mysterious sound rang out again. A piece of the rail splintered off beside me and snapped against my cheek. I touched the spot and felt blood trickling from the cut.
Each of the pirates held something—a dark cylinder aimed right at me. Whatever those things were, they had the power to break wood, and had hurt Tessa in a way I’d never seen before.
“Raise your hands and stay where you are,” shouted Dare. “We don’t want to hurt you.”
I stared at the cylinders aimed at me. I couldn’t surrender—we’d worked too hard to escape—but Tessa was right: I couldn’t fight those weapons. I pushed off the rail and dove to the deck.
“Wind at thirty-five knots,” said Dennis. “We need to shelter.”
Again, as if it took orders from him, the wind kicked, and this time brought rain in a thick sheet.
“Let’s go,” Alice shouted. “We’ll barricade the hatch at the top of the stairs. If the pirates are stuck above deck, the wind and rain will take care of them for us.”
I pointed at Tessa. “What about her?”
Alice rubbed her hands together again and conjured a flame. She brought it close to Tessa’s shoulder so that we could see the wound. Then she extinguished the flame just as suddenly. It was too late, though—we’d all seen it.
So much blood. It seemed impossible.
“We’ll drag you,” I told her.
“No,” spat Tessa. “Just go.”
“Not without you.”
“Then I walk.”
With difficulty, she stood. Rose stepped forward and eased Tessa’s good arm across her shoulder. They staggered toward the hatch, pausing after every step.
A new sound pulled me around—Griffin pushing a large wooden chest across the deck. It slid easily on the slick planks. I didn’t realize what he was doing at first, but then I understood. “Here, Alice. Help Griffin.”
Together, we pushed the chest toward the stern. It was heavy, but when Dennis joined us we took a corner each and managed to lift it so that it balanced on the rail. As soon as it was stable, something hit it, and a piece of wood splintered off again.
“Pu
sh,” I said.
Perched precariously on the rail, the chest tipped over the side and crashed against the cutter. I leaned over and saw that it had sliced off one side. The boat was taking on water. The pirates still aboard had lost their footing and were floundering about in the swell. One of them clung to his seat and bailed water in a hopeless attempt to keep the cutter afloat.
But there was still another pirate. He hung on to the rope half a yard below me, his weapon inches from my face.
Dare’s stare was icy. “Get back or I’ll kill you.”
I stepped away. The others did too.
He kept me in his sights as he swung his leg over the railing. When he had both feet on the deck, he smiled. “Hello, Griffin.”
I didn’t understand. Why would he think I was Griffin? Or didn’t he know? I narrowed my eyes and remained silent.
He shrugged and turned to my brother. I expected him to repeat himself, but he didn’t. In fact, it was clear from his expression that he’d already worked out that Griffin was his solution—his prize. But how?
You’ll know him too, just as soon as I call his name.
The words played in my mind. Dare knew that Griffin was deaf. The moment I reacted at all, it was clear I’d heard him. But the weapon remained pointed at me, not at Griffin.
Another fierce gust seemed to knock him off balance. In a flash, Alice launched herself at him. She was as quick as lightning, but she didn’t even lay a finger on him before he swung his arm around and the weapon cracked against her face. She landed on the deck with a sickening thud.
“Stupid girl.” He pointed his weapon at me again. “Am I going to have to do that to you too?”
I shook my head.
“Good. Then start walking toward the stairs. Now!”
Alice didn’t get up. She wasn’t even moving.
“I’m not leaving her.”
“No one said anything about leaving her. Now get back.” Over the roar of the wind and rain, I heard his weapon click. “I can live without you, Thomas. Your brother is the only one I care about. So if you want to live, walk.” He waited for a moment, then smiled his cold empty smile. “Bad choice.”