The Castle in the Sea: Quest of the Sunfish 2

by Mardi McConnochie

  He could hardly stand still, he was so eager to be off.

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ Annalie asked.

  ‘We’ve come this far,’ Will said. ‘He’s injured. He needs us.’

  Annalie was suddenly overtaken by the memory of Essie in her orange life jacket being dragged away from her by the storm. She remembered the terror in Essie’s face, the look of utter helplessness and despair as she saw her friend failing to help her, and all Pod’s warnings melted away. They’d come all this way to find Spinner. They had to go and get him.

  ‘Okay,’ she said.

  The building was four storeys high, with one apartment per floor; Spinner was on the top floor. Each apartment number had a buzzer beside it.

  ‘Here goes,’ said Will, and pressed the buzzer.

  They waited, breathless. The door clicked open, but no one spoke through the intercom. Will pushed open the door and they went inside.

  The building was quiet. It was the middle of the day; perhaps all the occupants were at work.

  Will and Annalie climbed the stairs cautiously, Graham flying ahead of them. The stairwell was unlit, but fingers of light crept through small windows on the landings.

  They reached the fourth floor and stopped, although the stairs continued, leading to the roof. The door to apartment four was closed.

  Annalie and Will exchanged a shivery, excited glance, then Annalie raised her hand and knocked.

  The door swung open, and a familiar shape loomed in the doorway. But it was not the familiar shape they’d been hoping to see.

  ‘Hello, Annalie. Will. Nice to see you again.’ Beckett gave them a toothy smile.

  They heard footsteps behind them and turned to see a marine coming down the stairs that led to the roof, while another came into view in the staircase just below them, cutting off both escape routes.

  They were trapped.

  The Trans-Northern Express

  ‘Someone catch that bird!’ Beckett ordered, but Graham was too quick for them. He shot off down the stairwell, shrieking in rage. Annalie watched him go, hoping he’d get out of there safely.

  ‘You’d better come in,’ Beckett said.

  He stood aside and let them walk into the apartment. It was simple and empty, barely furnished. From the entranceway, they walked into a single room with a little kitchen off to one side and large windows at the end that looked out onto sheeting grey rain. Other doors led, presumably, to bedrooms and the bathroom, although these were all closed.

  One of the marines followed Beckett into the room and stood guard at the front door to prevent an escape.

  ‘Is he here?’ Will asked aggressively.

  ‘Of course not,’ Beckett said. ‘Did you really believe he was?’ He gave Will a pitying look. ‘You poor children.’

  This made Will’s blood boil, as it was meant to. ‘You’re never going to find him,’ he said. ‘Even if you catch us you’ll never get what you’re really looking for.’

  ‘If I catch you?’ Beckett said. ‘I have caught you.’ He smiled unpleasantly. ‘So I take it you haven’t heard from your father in a while?’

  ‘Yes, we have,’ Will said.

  ‘Really?’ Beckett smiled. ‘He’s had an interesting journey, hasn’t he?’

  ‘Let’s cut the chitchat,’ Will said. ‘We’re not going to tell you where he is, okay?’

  ‘You don’t have to,’ Beckett said. ‘I already know where he is. I caught him, on the Trans-Northern Express. And I’m afraid I have some bad news for you.’ He paused, a master showman. ‘Your father is dead.’

  Annalie felt the shock of this like a physical blow. The breath went out of her.

  ‘You’re lying!’ Will shouted.

  ‘I’m afraid I’m not,’ Beckett said. ‘I was looking forward to bringing him to trial and throwing the book at him so I could sentence him to rot in a jail of my choosing for the rest of his days, or maybe, if I got the right judge, have him sentenced to death for treason. We still have the death penalty for treason, you know. But when we came to arrest him he tried to jump off the train. Did you know the Trans-Northern Express travels at two hundred kilometres an hour? No one can survive a fall like that—not even Spinner. So, disappointing for all of us, but especially disappointing for you.’

  Beckett waited to see what they’d do.

  Will flew at him, punching and hitting him, swearing and shouting.

  Beckett fended him off with ease. ‘It really was an accident, if it makes you feel any better. I would much rather have brought him in for questioning, but obviously that’s impossible now.’

  Annalie felt dizzy. Could it be true? She tried to cling onto the knowledge that Spinner had been alive and well in Norlind not long ago; but she had no way of knowing what had happened after that. If it really was true, and they were actually alone in the world . . . Her mind turned away from the terrible thought.

  But then she considered Beckett’s watchful eyes, his disdainful amusement, and she felt a tiny finger of doubt. He had tricked them into coming here. What if this was just one more trick? Could he be lying?

  She grabbed onto this thought and did her best to banish the fear and grief that was threatening to shut down her brain. She was going to need all her wits about her if they had any hope of getting out of this.

  ‘If Spinner’s already dead, why are you still chasing us?’ she challenged. ‘You know we can’t lead you to him now.’

  Beckett turned to her, a glitter of dislike in his eyes. ‘He died before he could give me what I’m looking for,’ he said. ‘The location of the research.’

  ‘We don’t know where it is,’ Annalie said.

  ‘You’re lying,’ he said. ‘I know you’re lying. I was on Little Lang Lang, Art told me what he saw. You’ve got the research and I want it.’

  ‘We don’t have it any more,’ Will said. ‘We lost it.’

  Beckett turned to him. ‘Honestly, Will,’ he said. ‘How stupid do you think I am?’

  ‘There was a storm,’ Will said stubbornly. ‘A lot of stuff went overboard, we nearly sank. We were lucky to escape with our lives. We don’t have it any more.’

  Beckett gave him a dead-eyed smile. ‘Enough. I’m taking you into custody.’ He signalled to the marine at the door.

  ‘Wait!’ Will said. ‘I need to use the bathroom.’ Beckett narrowed his eyes, weighing this up, then said, ‘Fine.’ He pointed to one of the doors, and Will disappeared through it.

  ‘Where will you take us?’ Annalie asked, partly because she wanted to know and partly because she thought she should keep Beckett talking.

  ‘We’ll take you two and your little friend back to Dux. As for your boat, we’ll strip it down to the nails and timbers.’

  ‘You can’t do that!’ Annalie protested. ‘It’s the only thing we’ve got left! Where we will go? Where will we live?’

  ‘That’s not really my problem, is it?’ Beckett said. His head turned towards the bathroom, as if wondering how long Will was going to be.

  Seeing this, Annalie said, ‘But please, it’s the only thing of Spinner’s we’ve got left. Isn’t there something we can do so you don’t have to destroy the boat?’

  ‘Of course there is,’ Beckett said impatiently. ‘Tell me where the research is.’

  ‘Will’s telling the truth! We don’t know where it is!’ Annalie cried.

  ‘Then we’re at an impasse, aren’t we?’ Beckett went to the bathroom door and gave a knock. ‘Will? Taking your time in there, aren’t you?’

  A muffled voice said, ‘Just a minute!’

  From the corner of her eye, Annalie caught a flash of movement. She looked over at the long window at the end of the room and saw a blaze of feathers: Graham! He was hovering beside the window, looking in at her. As soon as he saw her looking his way, he flew to one side of the window and hovered there with an expectant look. He performed the same action again, and then spiralled up out of sight. Annalie knew he’d been trying to signal something, but cou
ld not work out what it was. What was he trying to tell her?

  ‘Will?’ Beckett said again. ‘Open this door.’

  This time there was no answer. Beckett tried the door, his face darkening with rage, but of course it was locked.

  ‘Break this door down!’ he ordered.

  The marine left his post by the front door and began to shoulder-charge the bathroom door.

  Annalie saw Graham appear at the window again. He flicked his wing tips upwards, circled around, and then disappeared upwards once again. This time she guessed his meaning: the roof. Graham was heading for the roof. Did that mean Will was too? She felt a quiver of fear at the thought of Will shinning up a drainpipe four storeys in the air.

  The lock on the bathroom door gave and the door crashed open.

  Annalie seized the moment. While Beckettt and the marine were focused on the bathroom, she ran for the front door and slipped out. Behind her Beckett roared with rage; Will had escaped. A second marine was stationed at the top of the stairs that led down; he shouted as he saw Annalie emerge, but he was just far enough away that she was able to get past him and race up the stairs to the roof. She slammed the door behind her, but there was no lock on the outside; she was going to have to wedge it shut. She looked around frantically, hoping to see something, anything, she could stick under the door handle.

  ‘Here!’ Will shouted, running towards her holding a deckchair with a rotted canvas cover. Together they wedged it under the door handle.

  ‘Bathroom window, huh?’ Annalie said.

  ‘Did you see how small it was?’ Will said. ‘What about you?’

  ‘Went out the front door while they were looking for you.’

  ‘Nice. Let’s go.’

  They started to run. The building was part of a terraced row, and the roofs had a gentle slope to let the rain run off. The rain had grown heavier while they were inside the building; it was thundering down now in a dense wall of water and the roofs were ankle-deep, so they had to be careful how they placed their feet.

  Behind them they could hear determined crashing and bashing as the marines attempted to break down the door. They hurtled through flapping sheets and vaulted over planter boxes, past an aviary filled with cooing pigeons. Once, Will put his foot right through the roof.

  There was a distant crash behind them and they heard shouts. Will glanced back. ‘They’ve got the door open,’ he panted. ‘They’re coming.’

  They had a good headstart, but they had shorter legs than the marines.

  ‘No more roof!’ Graham squawked from above.

  They had come to the end of the row. Empty air was on three sides of them and it was four storeys down to the street.

  Will rushed to the closest roof door and tried it. It was locked.

  ‘Now what?’ asked Annalie.

  They looked around them. They could move back along the row, trying the doors until they found one that opened, but with every second that passed, the marines were getting closer. Running back towards them didn’t seem like a good idea.

  ‘Tree!’ Graham squawked.

  Will spun around to see what Graham was talking about.

  Behind the last house, a tall tree lifted its branches into the air. Graham swirled about and landed in the uppermost branches. ‘Here!’ he squawked.

  ‘You’re a bird,’ Annalie shouted. ‘We’re not!’

  Will was measuring the distance with his eye, considering the thickness of the canopy. ‘I reckon we could make that,’ he said. ‘It might hurt a bit. But if you jump out and grab onto something, we could get down that tree.’

  ‘I’m not jumping into that!’ Annalie said. It was way too far. She wasn’t especially bothered by heights, but the gap was large, and she wasn’t sure that she had the strength to catch herself as she fell into the canopy and prevent herself from dropping the four storeys to the ground.

  ‘Fine. Stay and get caught then,’ Will said. And without another thought, he backed up, took a run up, and leapt.

  Out he went, out into the terrible empty air, his arms windmilling as he propelled himself forward through the rain. He crashed into the upper branches, grabbing and slipping, and fell, fell, fell—until he hit a larger branch with an audible oof, and managed to grab on. He looked up, winded but triumphant, to see Annalie looking down at him. ‘Come on!’ he yelled.

  The marines were only two rooftops away. They were shouting at her as they advanced, demanding she surrender.

  She followed Will’s lead. She jumped.

  Branches thrashed at her, she fell and slipped and was cut in a thousand places by the whippy twigs. Time seemed to slow in the terror of falling. She glanced off a biggish branch, slick and wet, then bounced onto another, reaching desperately for something that would slow her fall. She grabbed an armful of branch and caught it, dangling in the air like a kitten. She kicked wildly with her legs—her toe found something—and at last she had a branch to stand on.

  Will was already scrambling down as quickly as he could. ‘Come on! They’re probably circling round to cut us off already!’ he said.

  The two of them climbed down the tree, Graham flitting from branch to branch.

  ‘Graham,’ Will said, ‘go and work out where the marines are.’

  Graham flew off as they landed on solid ground. Will’s eyes darted around, looking for the next escape route. Through the building? Over the wall into the next garden? They waited, hiding behind the tree, as Graham flew a loop, scouting the streets.

  ‘Go this way. Next street,’ he said, perching on the garden’s back wall. Another row of terraces lay back-to-back with this one. Will and Annalie struggled over the high stone wall and landed cautiously in the next yard, not knowing what they might find. The sheeting rain meant visibility was poor, which was both an advantage and a disadvantage. The yard was empty, but the door into the building was locked.

  ‘Next one,’ Will said.

  They helped each other over the wall into the next yard, where a dog snoozed. It woke as they landed and began barking violently.

  ‘Not here, either,’ Will said. They ran across the yard and flew over the fence. The next yard was dog-free and quiet; even better, the back door was unlocked. Will and Annalie hurried along the hallway, and then peeped out the glass front door.

  ‘See anything?’ Annalie asked.

  ‘Nope,’ Will said.

  He opened the door and peered around it, looking for marines. He couldn’t see any.

  ‘Okay, let’s go,’ he said.

  They stepped out the door, crossed the road and ran up the street, trying to put some distance between themselves and the marines. The streets were a river. There was so much water pouring out of the sky that it was coming down faster than the gutters could drain it away.

  ‘There they are!’

  Two marines were running towards them.

  ‘Come on!’ Will said.

  They changed direction and ran on, splashing through the cascade that was pouring down the footpath. Behind them the marines were calling for back-up. Already tired, Annalie knew she could not stay ahead of a team of marines for long.

  ‘I don’t know how long I can keep this up,’ she gasped to Will.

  ‘Try!’ Will panted back.

  They ran for their lives, dodging down street after street, trying everything they could to evade the marines. But the marines kept coming.

  They turned and ducked and dived, with no idea of where they were going in the unfamiliar terrain of this orderly city. The rain thrummed down on them, and Graham soared ahead, scouting. They turned down a street, which looked open at the other end. Graham came looping back to them.

  ‘No good!’ he shrieked. ‘River!’

  The marines were in the street behind them now, blocking their escape. They had no choice but to keep going forward, towards the river.

  ‘That’s not a river,’ Annalie panted, as they got closer to it. ‘That’s a canal.’

  They reached the end of the stre
et. Another street crossed it, running parallel to the canal, and as they turned left to go down it, they saw, to their horror, a second team of marines coming towards them. They turned back to go the other way down the cross street. A third team was coming from that direction. They were trapped.

  ‘Come on, kids,’ one of the marines called. ‘There’s nowhere for you to go. It’s time to stop running.’

  ‘Never!’ Will shouted.

  The marines had dropped to a walk now, advancing towards them steadily, confident they had them cornered.

  ‘We just want to talk to you,’ the marine said. ‘There’s no need for all this running around.’

  ‘You know,’ Will muttered, ‘he’s so right.’

  Without giving her even the slightest warning, he grabbed Annalie, rushed her to the edge of the canal, and launched them both in.

  Downstream

  The current was faster and more powerful than Will had expected. The marines chased after them for a while, but then the canal moved away from the road and was enclosed by fences, making pursuit impossible, and Will savoured the marines’ furious expressions as the water bore them away.

  ‘So long, suckers!’ he crowed.

  Annalie was coughing and spluttering—she’d swallowed water when she fell in. ‘Are you crazy?’ she gasped.

  ‘We got away, didn’t we?’ Will said.

  Conversation was difficult over the roar of the water. The canal was deeper than it looked; Will’s feet touched nothing as they were borne along, and when he tried to reach for the bottom he simply sank.

  ‘How are we going to get out of here?’ Annalie said.

  ‘Put some distance between us and them first,’ Will said.

  The water tumbled them along. It was not nice water: brown and swirling, it was filled with rubbish, it smelled, and it was freezing cold. Unseen objects below the surface bumped against them. The sides of the canals were sloping concrete, smooth and unobstructed, built to transfer water fast. He could already tell it would be difficult to get out of these canals unless you could find something hanging down to grab onto.