“No oven, is there.” Crocker slammed a platter of salt herring down. “Peel soaked the oats in water overnight, it was the best he could do. Cold food till that thieving sod gets it fixed.” He indicated Toby with a tilt of his head.
“Don’t worry about it, Toby.” Rahul dangled raw herring from his fingertips, as if it would look better in mid-air. “Better cold breakfast than dead in the water, and we all know what you did yesterday.”
“Yeah, well I say we should’ve left him on the Banshee,” Crocker sneered. “Would’ve made a man of him.”
“Be quiet, Crocker.” Rahul spooned oats into a bowl on top of his fish.
“You gonna make me, Rahul?”
“I’ll make you,” Toby growled.
Crocker laughed. “You and whose army, little boy?”
Glowering fiercely, Hiko stepped smartly up to the smirking Crocker and sunk his teeth into the pirate’s wrist.
“Ow, gerrim off,” Crocker shouted and tried to cuff Hiko around the ear.
Toby blocked his descending arm. “Let him go, Hiko,” he said quietly.
Immediately Hiko stepped back and wiped his mouth.
Toby released Crocker.
“I see you got yourself a dog to look after you, as well as a bird, little boy.” Crocker stepped back, holding his arm. “I’ll get you for this, just you wait an’ see. It ain’t over.”
Crocker retreated towards the galley and Rahul remained beside Toby and Hiko until he was out of the mess hall.
Then Rahul turned to Toby. “Can’t you prioritize that oven, Tobes? Peel’s a genius in the kitchen, but there’s only so much he can do. If it’s raw seagull for lunch, I’ll spew.”
Toby grimaced. “We don’t have the part. The captain is going to trade for it in the next port.”
“Well, we’re not far from there, thanks to that oil you found, so fingers crossed, eh?” Rahul looked at his breakfast, sighed deeply and went to sit down, just as the captain arrived.
“Morning all.” Barnaby stood by the door. “You’ve heard the paddles restart and you know what that means – the engines are dry. However, we’ve been running all night and we’re about to reach Tarifa.”
“I thought we were going for the solar panels,” Marcus called. His cut had been stitched, but he would have a gruesome-looking scar running down his face.
“The Phoenix needs repairs,” the captain replied. “We can’t risk open sea with only three masts and no bridge, especially with the Banshee after us. We’re still the only ones who know where the panels are, so they’ll be there once the Phoenix is back in shape.”
“Are you talking about docking in Tarifa?” Rahul dropped his spoon. “That’s a huge risk, Captain, we don’t know the portmaster – he could be a government man.”
The captain rubbed his beard. “We can’t get the Phoenix repaired otherwise. It’s a risk we’re going to have to take.”
“Does it have to be Tarifa? Is there a friendly port further round the coast?” Marcus looked at Dee as she entered the mess hall with old Arnav, who still looked shaken. His hair was singed and stood out from his head like frayed wire.
“Navigator?” The captain looked at her.
Dee shook her head and sat on a table next to the captain. “The nearest friendly is three days away at the Phoenix’s current speed. And we’d have to go past Gibraltar. It flies its own banner, but still has close ties with St George.”
“It’s too far,” the captain replied. “We’ve got a head start on the Banshee, but she’s faster than us. We have to assume she’s repaired by now and on our tail. All she has to do is sail the coast in the right direction till she catches up. I want to be on our way out before Nell tracks us down.”
“Then it has to be Tarifa.” Uma was chasing porridge around her bowl as if stirring would make it less foul. She looked up. “Is it part of Granada at the moment?”
Dee frowned. “Last I heard they were in Cadiz province, but they’re always fighting in this part of Spain – the borders keep changing.”
The captain nodded. “We’ll have to go into port like honest traders, so the Jolly Roger will have to come down.”
The crew groaned.
“It isn’t all bad.” The captain spread his palms. “The portmaster is known to a friend of ours and although we’ve never traded before, his name has been mentioned in a positive light.”
“All our friends started off as strangers once,” Theo muttered.
“Exactly.”
“Usually you make overtures first – gifts and other offers. And we dock outside their main port.” Marcus pressed the heel of his hands over his eyes then looked up. “It’s provocative, sailing right into port with no preamble. It’s begging for trouble.”
“We have no real choice.” The captain started to clean his cracked glasses. “We’re badly damaged. We need a new lifeboat, a new mast and materials to rebuild the bridge. Our maps and the protractor were lost in the storm and need replacing. We need a delivery line for the oven and some spares for the boiler room. We have to trade for more food and fresh water. And I need new glasses.” He held them up. “We must have somewhere to dock while we make those repairs, so it has to be a main port. If the paddles break down or something goes wrong in the boiler room again, we’re dead in the water. We can’t move with only two sails. I’m not willing to risk it.”
“So, we’re honest traders for a couple of days.” Nisha leaned against a table. “We can do that.”
TWELVE
Toby dragged Hiko up to the crow’s nest and the two of them sat curled under the parapet, watching Tarifa change from a grey blur on the horizon to a heat-hazed smear of white that outlined patchy orange hills. Polly stalked the floor, her plumage nodding comically as she bobbed up and down.
“Do you want a turn?” Toby offered the binoculars to Hiko, but he shook his head.
“I’ve seen Tarifa,” he muttered.
“When?” Toby put the binoculars back to his own eyes. “I can’t wait to get there.”
“After father died, when mother and I were travelling with the merchant who sold me.” His voice had gone cold and flat and Toby hesitated, half wanting to ask Hiko more.
Polly squawked reproachfully as Toby altered his position, almost squashing her against the nest wall.
He refocused the binoculars. “Wait, what are those?” He pointed.
There were rolling hills all along the coast, but behind Tarifa they were dotted with hundreds of spinning blades.
“The reason so many provinces fight over this region.” Polly hopped on to the parapet, while Toby trained the binoculars.
“Wind turbines?” Toby leaned forward. “But I’ve never seen so many.”
“You’ll understand soon.” Polly bobbed from foot to foot. “We’re about to enter the straits.”
“There’s no Junk Dam.” Toby stretched to see, disappointed. He had been looking forward to entering a lock and passing through the giant dam that signalled entrance into one of the wealthier ports. They were originally designed by his father.
“They don’t need one.” Polly ruffled her feathers.
“Huh,” Toby grunted, but he quickly shook off his disappointment. “So, Tarifa has power?”
Polly bowed her head. “They invested in wind rather than solar after the crash and had enough power to force-grow food during the Darkness.”
Even though Toby had been tiny, he remembered the cold days and even colder nights. He didn’t remember his mother’s face, but he remembered shivering himself to sleep. The pirates had lived on tiny fish, gull meat and seaweed, supplemented with all the vitamin D tablets they could steal.
Toby had still been small enough to run through the vents when the ash clouds thinned out, growing paler with each week that passed. Dawn after dawn, the crew had watched the sky. Then, one day, the cloud cover fractured like an eggshell. Toby had pointed, although he hadn’t needed to. Every eye had tracked the sudden break in the opaque sky, as though t
he cloud’s parting had occurred with an audible crack.
It was only a split second before the cloud repaired itself, hurriedly, but it was long enough. Those around the world who, like the crew of the Phoenix, were watching the sky had seen the sun.
It was too bright and too yellow. As the cloud cleared more every day, two of the crew spent their whole time staring upwards. One day they found that they could see nothing else, only a glow that encompassed their whole vision. After they went totally blind and had to be pensioned off, the rest of the crew treated the sun with more respect.
Toby had been told that there were sun worshippers on land. His father had seen monasteries where whole communities of sun-blind were praised for their dedication to the orb.
“Why isn’t Tarifa the main principality around here?” Toby frowned through the binoculars once more, staring at the spinning turbines with awe. “They must be rich … healthy.”
“It’s a small town.” Polly examined a claw. “Every governor wants Tarifa’s power, so the locals just protect their turbines and pay taxes to whoever occupies the castle. But it’s not so great. Half the powered equipment is broken down. Five years ago Algeciras cut the power lines when Tarifa allied with Graada, so two-thirds of the turbines are useless. And, with the return of the sun, Tarifa lost some of its strategic importance. In a few years those turbines will be nothing but rusting junk.”
“Yeah.” Hiko wriggled by his side. “Tarifans are a bunch of bullies who think they’re better than everyone else. They can store food for longer and they’ve got stupid electric lights. My father said they had a 3-D printer at the beginning, but when it broke there was no one left who knew how to fix it.”
Toby’s fists whitened on the rail as the Phoenix suddenly lurched, blown almost off course.
“We’re entering the straits.” Polly sounded as though she were grinning.
Hiko huddled behind Toby as the Phoenix pitched wildly. “Is it always like this?” Toby yelled.
Polly crawled into his shirt. “For nine miles. It’s where the Mediterranean meets the Atlantic. That’s why they don’t need a dam.”
“Nine miles!” Toby rocked to keep his balance as the Phoenix pitched the other way. “The paddles are going to struggle.”
The Phoenix powered onwards. Then the sound of her progress suddenly altered. Heart thudding, Toby leaned out and gasped. “The junk is gone.” Sure enough the Phoenix was slicing through clear water. “The wind’s keeping the straits clear. Look, they’re fishing.”
A circle of boats was ahead and to the right of them, casting nets.
Polly poked out her head. “There might be tuna on the dock.”
“And that’s good?” Hiko was getting used to talking to Polly.
“Raw tuna’s a lot nicer than raw herring.” Toby rubbed his hands. “And it’s rare. You don’t often get it – and never fresh.”
Hiko licked his lips. “I didn’t much like the herring,” he mumbled.
“No one does, really.” Toby’s smile quickly faded; the Phoenix had been caught by a gust and they were now headed directly for the tight circle of fishermen.
Toby grabbed the speaker. “Course change,” he yelled. “Fishing boats dead ahead.”
Garbled acknowledgement returned to him through the tube and Toby watched as the Phoenix fought the wind, attempting to manoeuvre around the tiny sailboats.
He held his breath – they weren’t changing course fast enough. The Phoenix was heading straight for the outermost boat in the circle.
“Move,” he screamed. The fisherman was frantically pulling his net.
Hiko covered his eyes with his hands, but Toby couldn’t tear his eyes from the impending disaster.
At the very last moment a gust of wind swept the Phoenix to port. The fishing boat knocked into her hull, but instead of being smashed it was swept into the wake of the Phoenix, jostled by waves and half swamped.
Toby exhaled shakily. He turned to watch the fishermen struggling to get control of their boats, which now bobbed wildly in their wake.
“We won’t be popular,” Toby sighed. “Apart from almost killing them, the Phoenix will have scared their catch away.”
“The fish will be back though.” Hiko fought to keep the boats in view as the Phoenix powered onwards. “It isn’t as if they can go very far.”
Toby returned his gaze to Tarifa. The port was surrounded by whitewashed houses with red roofs. A few trees, barely the height of a man, dotted the roads and hilltops. They had only been growing since the sun’s return. In a few years they would provide real shade. He felt tense with excitement – this time he wouldn’t be confined to the ship. They were anchoring in port and Toby had proven himself strong and able. He was going to leave the ship and see the trees up close.
On their right, above the port, a giant grey castle stood as custodian over the white houses and sandy beaches that surrounded it. It looked like a stack of boxes, with crenellations slashed all along the battlements. There was a black arched entrance; a gaping mouth, which only half hid a portcullis that lurked like teeth in its recess. It was low, serious and military in appearance. The flag of Cadiz Province flew above the ramparts.
“The Castle of Guzmán el Bueno.” Polly poked out her head again and was almost dragged out altogether. She shuddered and hunkered back down. “The governor’s seat of residence.”
The wind whistled across Toby’s face; fresh air filled with the scent of clean sea and carrying the cries of gulls on it. Toby breathed in. “That’s what the sea is supposed to smell like, isn’t it? Look, is that a…?”
“It’s a dolphin!” Even Hiko bounced to his feet.
“I didn’t know there were any left.” Polly peered out. “It’s a bit deformed, but it’s a dolphin. Is there a whole pod, can you see?”
“Just one.”
“There used to be many dolphins here, and whales. Storks migrated this route, too, before the sun went out,” Polly informed them.
Toby looked at the waves splashing against the crumbling sea wall, the grey surf lingering on the brickwork, the sunlight glittering from the blue water. The Darkness suddenly seemed a very long time ago.
Below, the captain emerged from the lean-to that was forming a temporary bridge. He sheltered his eyes from the blazing light and looked for his crew. “All hands, prepare for docking,” He looked up. “Toby, get down to the boiler room. I’ll need the paddle in reverse soon enough. And furl that Jolly Roger.”
“Aye, aye.” The pirates leaped into action and Toby reached up to catch the rope that would roll the flag.
“Sorry, Bones,” he muttered, as the skull and crossbones vanished. Then he looked at Hiko. “Hop on.” Hiko wrapped his arms and legs around Toby and he abseiled the two of them down to the deck.
“I’ll learn to do it myself soon, I promise.” Hiko climbed down.
Toby looked at him. Stubble was starting to grow around the hacked tufts of hair on his head, turning his skull a sooty grey. His back was straighter than when Toby had first seen him – he no longer hunched quite so much or flinched whenever someone raised a hand.
“You’ll be a great pirate, Hiko, but you don’t need to learn today.” Toby released the rigging. “Come on, we need to get to the boiler room.”
“We won’t see her dock?” Hiko looked disappointed.
“I never do. When we weigh anchor I have to stay below and clean out the boiler till we leave.”
Hiko’s eyes widened as he studied Toby’s expression. “But not today?”
“Not today.” Toby grinned. “I’m going on land.”
“Oh no, you’re not.”
Toby jumped as Dee’s hand fell on to his shoulder. “You’ve already seen how easily someone can control the captain if they have you. He was willing to give up the solar panels to Nell. It took half the crew to persuade him to let Marcus make the fake coordinates. We can’t risk you falling into the wrong hands. You have to stay on board.”
Toby’s fa
ce fell. “Are you serious?”
Dee nodded. “You aren’t leaving the ship, Toby. You’ll be able to see the dock from on board, but if you set a single foot off this ship I will personally cut it off at the ankle.” Her teeth flashed in a grim smile and the sunlight glinted from her earrings.
Hiko tugged at his windcheater. “She means it.”
Toby snorted. “No you don’t, do you, Dee?”
Dee flashed her long knife. “All right, perhaps I won’t cut off your foot, but I will chain you up by it. I understand that your confinement to the Phoenix is starting to chafe, but now isn’t the time to start ignoring orders.”
“Come on, Dee.” Toby spread his hands and tried a smile that mimicked his father’s. “I saved your life, I went on to the Banshee and saved Hiko, I’m not a little kid any more.”
Dee sighed. “This isn’t about your age, Toby. I know you can look after yourself, but if you’re captured and ransomed in return for controlling Captain Ford’s talent for invention…” She shuddered.
A cold wind touched Toby’s neck and he turned. Peel was standing just behind them, listening. Toby shivered and Hiko stepped closer.
“I don’t like the fat man,” he whispered.
Toby closed one arm around his shoulder and turned his gaze back to Dee. “What are the chances of me being able to change your mind?”
“Zero,” Dee said, almost apologetically.
“Then I’ll stay on the ship.” Toby’s shoulders dropped.
Dee touched his elbow, making him meet her eyes. “Thank you. When we’ve got the panels I’ll talk the captain into letting you go on land at a known friendly. How about that? Now get us docked, so we can be repaired and out of here.” She glanced over her shoulder. “That castle gives me the creeps.”
“I don’t like this.” Crocker appeared from behind the broken deck housing. “Taking down the Jolly Roger. ’Tain’t piratical.”
Dee huffed. “Think of it as playing the long-con to get what we want. We pretend to be honest traders, they sell us what we want, and we get out of here with our hides intact.”
Phoenix Rising Page 11
