Lily looked at Roana, raising her eyebrow questioningly. Roana shivered and trembled, sinking lower into the bench. Lily rubbed her gently on the shoulder and turned to go.
‘I’m staying down here,’ said Jack weakly, nursing his injured arm gingerly. ‘At least it’s warm and dry.’
Ethan nodded and started for the door, followed by Lily and Saxon.
‘Wait. I’ll come with you,’ Roana cried.
Ethan turned back and found her some rope, which he knotted carefully around her waist. Together the four of them struggled up on deck, latching the door behind them. They slowly made their way forward to the main mast. Every step was hard-fought. They slipped and skidded on the slick deck, grazing knuckles and knees.
Each one tied themselves to the mast and then checked one of the other’s knots, just to be sure.
The rain pelted. The wind howled and roared. The Owl climbed up, up, up a monstrous wave that reared above its puny masts. For a moment it levelled out, triumphant on the top of the world.
Then down, down, down, skidding, slipping, sliding to the black depths of the vast ocean. The Owl slammed into the bottom of the trough with a sickening crunch, for just a moment out of the wind. Then it started all over again.
Huge waves frothed and bubbled over the bow, pouring in a torrent of foaming water down the deck. The four children huddled into the mast, clinging to each other with desperate arms.
Cold water trickled down their necks. They huddled into cloaks that were saturated and heavy. Their stomachs felt twisted with fear. Sometimes one or the other would retch and heave. There was nothing left in their stomachs to vomit. They trembled and shivered.
Ethan stared at his sister, Lily, her hair plastered to her skull, her eyes closed and lips bloodless. He remembered scenes from their childhood.
He remembered Lily swinging from the tree branches like Mia the monkey. He remembered her riding Nutmeg, the beautiful royal hunter, with her curly honey hair flying in the wind. He remembered her finding the little black kitten in the ruins of Leacroft and stubbornly refusing to leave the animal behind. He remembered her brave and strong facing the bandits.
He thought about Saxon, his best friend since they were toddlers. He remembered Saxon’s endless jokes and pranks. He remembered Saxon coming back to Saira’s cottage at Mereworth with a basket overladen with silver fish, his face beaming. He remembered Saxon climbing down the cliffs to swim the rain-swollen river to get them all safely across the gorge at Tira.
And he thought of Roana. He remembered finding her unconscious body lying in the mud on the forest floor, her snow-white pony standing beside her. He remembered seeing Roana appear out of the darkness of the forest like a wraith, swearing to join them on their quest. He remembered seeing her, proud and disdainful, taking on the supercilious Lord Mortimer. And he remembered her laughing and shrieking, jumping on the bed, whacking Saxon with a pillow when they had found the Sun Gem.
Now they were all in the worst danger they had yet faced. How could the fragile Owl survive the beating of this terrible storm? How could the bright flames of his friends survive the fury of this terrible sea?
The hours trickled by. Surprisingly, their fear ebbed. It was not possible for the mind to stay in a state of constant terror for too long. As the Owl survived wave after wave, gale after gale, hour after hour, the four children fell into an exhausted doze.
Asickening crack woke them. The crack was followed by terrifying sounds of crashing, ripping and tearing. Ethan struggled to his feet. Through the lashing rain and blackness, Ethan could see the foremast had broken, snapped in half.
The foresails were dragging in the water with rigging and ropes washing overboard. The Owl started to list dangerously, pulled to starboard by the weight of the sails and broken mast. Waves poured in torrents over the deck.
Carl scampered back towards them, fear etched onto his face.
‘Ethan. Saxon. Rowan,’ Carl yelled into the deafening wind. ‘Forward with me – we have to get the mast and sails back on deck, before it drags us under. Lily, get down below and bring Jack and Otto up. We need all hands to save this ship.’
Lily paled at the thought of facing Otto again.
‘Use your dagger, Lily,’ whispered Ethan, as everyone scrambled to obey. The safety lines were untied and everyone slithered and slipped to their appointed positions.
Jack was already climbing up from the cabin when Lily reached the door, his injured arm in its sling. She shouted Carl’s orders and Jack waved his good hand in acknowledgement.
Lily gripped her dagger tightly as she struggled to unlock the bolt on the hold door. The stench from inside the hold hit her like a slap.
Otto glared at Lily as she relayed Carl’s message. Otto remained seated, his tattooed arms crossed insolently.
‘It’s your choice,’ Lily snapped. ‘Either you come up and help us save this ship, or I lock you back in the hold to drown like a rat.’
Otto thought for a moment, then shuffled to his feet.
‘After you, my lady,’ he growled, with a sarcastic little flourish.
‘Thanks but no thanks,’ Lily replied boldly. ‘I’ll stay right behind you where I can see you, and don’t forget I have a dagger this time.’
Otto scrambled up the ladder, saluting Fox jauntily, then scampered forward to Carl as easily as if the deck were completely flat and still. Lily followed more sedately, gripping onto any handhold she could find.
Once with the others, she tied herself onto the ship and helped drag canvas sails, rope and timber back on deck. Carl directed operations. The object was to salvage as much as they could and cut free anything else.
At last the broken half of the mast was back on the deck, lashed to the railing, and the rigging and sails seemed to have been secured.
Everyone collapsed on the deck, wet and exhausted, but relieved. The Owl slowly righted herself. The schooner was no longer listing to starboard, yet the motion did not feel quite right.
Instead of the back-and-forth rocking of the ship riding up and down the waves, the Owl wallowed sickeningly.
Ethan heard a faint noise like a distant shout, whipped away by the wind. Down below, he heard the sound of Aisha howling. Ethan struggled to sit up. He saw Fox still battling with the huge wheel that steered the schooner.
He rubbed his eyes. His stomach gave a sudden lurch and his heart filled with dread. There was still something wrong.
Ethan unlashed himself from the foremast. He clung onto the rail and made his way back to where Fox was unsuccessfully trying to untangle a rope from the port side.
Fox’s grim face revealed the truth. The Owl was in trouble. Dangerous trouble.
‘Fox, what’s wrong?’ shouted Ethan over the howling wind.
‘One of the ropes that went over the side seems to be tangled around the rudder,’ Fox shouted back, directly into Ethan’s ear. ‘I can’t free it. If I can’t steer the ship we have no chance in this storm. One of these waves, this one or the next, will take us down.’
Ethan’s mind grappled with this development. He visualised the rope tangled around the rudder. Then he visualised the helpless Owl tumbled and smashed by the storm. There must be something they could do.
‘What if I dive under the boat with a dagger and cut it free?’ Ethan shouted back.
‘It’s too dangerous,’ Fox shouted, shaking his head vehemently. ‘You might be swept away. We may never find you again. You could be hit on the head by the hull of the boat. The sea is wild and vicious. It is too much for a child.’
Ethan thought about Lily, Roana, Saxon, Aisha, Charcoal, Jack and Mia. They needed Fox to captain the Owl to survive this storm. No-one else had the knowledge or expertise.
Ethan started stripping off his cloak, shirt and breeches. He estimated the distance from the top of the stern to where he imagined the rudder to be, and compared that to his rope safety line. It should be long enough.
Cautiously, Ethan double-checked the rope knotted ar
ound his waist, praying silently to the Moon Goddess that the knots would hold. With rain-slicked hands, he clumsily knotted the end of the rope to the strongest stanchion he could find. Lastly he put his belt back on, with his dagger safely tucked in its sheath.
‘Ethan,’ Fox reiterated quietly, ‘it is too dangerous.’
‘I must try,’ Ethan replied. ‘I have to do something or we will all be lost.’
Fox nodded, his eyes shining with respect and hope.
‘Good luck, Ethan,’ he cried, fervently. ‘May the Goddess guide you and keep you safe.’
Ethan stood on the stern for a moment, shivering in his underwear. The needles of rain stung his naked skin. The wind howled around him, shrieking at him to turn back. Ethan took several deep, deep breaths, filling his lungs, his blood, his brain with oxygen.
Lily sat up under the foremast. She saw Ethan in his underclothes, balancing precariously on the rail.
She stood up and screamed.
‘Ethan. No. Ethan. Noooooooooo!’
The words were whipped away and flung into the darkness.
She untied her own rope and ran, slipping and sliding on the deck, her long skirts and petticoats tripping her with their sodden weight.
She reached the steering wheel, still screaming, ‘Ethan. Nooooo!’
Ethan heard her. He turned around and smiled slightly.
‘Lily, I have to try.’
Then he jumped.
A huge wave reached up to take him. Ethan spluttered with shock. The water was icy. But still down he dived. His eyes opened wide under the water, trying to see the glimmer of the rope in the inky coldness.
Roana reached Lily a moment later, with Saxon limping behind her. The three clung to each other, staring helplessly down into the blackness.
‘For the Sun Lord’s sake, tie yourselves to the ship,’ shouted Fox. Saxon rushed to obey, tying them all safely once more.
Lily stared over the side. Long, long moments passed. There was nothing but the sea, the Owl, the storm.
‘He’s gone,’ Lily murmured to herself. ‘Ethan is gone. I will never see my brother again.’
Lily stared at the sodden little pile of clothes on the deck. That was all that was left of strong, brave Ethan. Her big brother. Huge tears rolled down her cheeks, lost in the rain and salt spray. She sank to the deck on her knees, her eyes searching the black sea in vain.
Fox covered his face with his hands, his shoulders slumped. The steering wheel stayed jammed in its position.
Saxon ran to the stern and yelled into the darkness.
‘Ethan! Ethaaaaaannnn!’
Roana hugged Lily, shaking with shock and cold. ‘How could it all end like this?’
The noise was like a slap. The wheel spun wildly. Fox grabbed for it, nearly breaking his fingers on the whirring wheel. His strong hands hauled it back under control. A broad grin split Fox’s face.
‘He’s done it,’ Fox exclaimed. ‘The lad’s done it! The rudder is free.’
Gradually the Owl turned its bow away from the driving waves. The ship stopped wallowing and started to ride the waves proudly once more.
‘Look there,’ cried Roana. ‘I think I can see him!’
Everyone followed her gaze. A glimmer of white foam revealed where something was breaking the surface of the water.
‘The safety line,’ screamed Fox. ‘Haul him in!’
Lily, Roana and Saxon all scrambled for Ethan’s safety line. They hauled and tugged. Nothing happened. They dug deeper. They called on every ounce of strength in their bodies.
The safety line started to give. Hand over hand, they hauled. The rope cut and burnt into their fingers and palms until they were slick with blood.
‘Use the winch,’ yelled Fox.
Saxon wound the rope around and around the drum and used the winch to slowly inch it in.
Roana and Lily ran to the stern to search the water.
‘He’s there,’ shrieked Lily, nearly tumbling into the ocean herself in her anxiety.
As the cold, limp body of Ethan was winched on board, Lily and Roana struggled to help him up as gently as possible. Blood streamed from a gash on his forehead and from cuts on his hands. His head lolled against his chest. He flopped onto the deck, still and lifeless.
Lily threw herself onto him, pummelling him with her hands, tears running down her face as she called his name. All healing knowledge forgotten, she shook him, then thumped him on the back with all her strength.
Ethan coughed and gagged. He vomited up half the ocean over the deck. He retched and coughed and then breathed deeply of the sweet night air.
Lily threw herself on him, laughing and crying. Roana danced a little jig of joy and threw her arms around Fox, giving him a big kiss on the cheek, much to his bemusement. Ethan was shivering violently, his teeth clattering with cold. Saxon helped Lily to lift Ethan up and wrap him in his sodden cloak.
Together they all helped half drag, half carry Ethan down into the saloon cabin, where they wrapped him in dry blankets. Otto was locked back in the hold, swearing and complaining.
Aisha howled and scratched at the door of Fox’s cabin until they let her out. She climbed up on the saloon bench and curled into as tiny a space as possible, with her head on Ethan’s lap, gently licking the blood from his fingers.
Everyone sat around the saloon table and stared at each other. The saloon was still littered with debris and shards of glass. The ship still rocked wildly. The air still smelt strongly of vomit and bilges. Yet somehow it all seemed bearable now. Somehow they would survive this night, this storm.
‘Look at us,’ Roana laughed. ‘Saxon and Jack scorched by Barramon fire, Lily attacked by a madman who thought she was a witch, and now Ethan half drowned and battered from saving our ship in a storm. Aisha and I are the only ones unscathed!’
Aisha looked up at the sound of her name and whined, wagging her tail pitifully, her eyes liquid brown and her red-gold face wrinkled with worry.
‘Exactly, Aisha! Not so unscathed, I think,’ laughed Lily shakily. ‘A princess with all her hair lopped off, dyed nut brown and dressed like a smuggler’s lad!’
Roana pulled a face and tugged at her short, streaky hair ruefully.
Everyone started to laugh. They laughed until their sides ached and their cheeks felt like splitting. They laughed until the tears rolled down their faces. They laughed until there were no giggles left.
Roana managed to make some sandwiches on the wildly rocking table, which everyone nibbled appreciatively. Roana took a couple up to Fox and Carl on the deck. Then, despite the erratic bucking of the Owl, and the keening wind, everyone down below somehow fell asleep – a deep, healing sleep with no nightmares and no regrets.
It was as though, by cutting the tangled rope with his dagger and freeing the Owl, Ethan had taken the fight out of the storm. Gradually the wind blew less strongly. Gradually the waves started to drop.
When the sun rose next morning, it was on a fresh new day. A fair breeze blew. A weary Fox and Carl handed their shifts over to Roana and Saxon. Jack and Lily made toast and honey, and tea for everyone.
‘Carl and I just need to sleep for a couple of hours,’ announced Fox. ‘Then we will drag up that scoundrel bo’sun, Otto, and supervise him making some repairs. Meanwhile, just keep the Owl floating along in a south-westerly course on the compass, and keep a good watch out for anything resembling rocks or whales or land. Wake me the moment you spot anything untoward.’
Fox curled up in a sail bag right at Saxon’s feet, with Mia the monkey snuggled into his neck.
‘Are you going to sleep there?’ asked Saxon in surprise.
‘You don’t think I’d sleep below with a landlubber like you at the helm?’ retorted Fox with a wink. In a moment he was snoring happily.
Later in the morning, when Fox had slept, Otto was brought up from the hold, reeking of bilges and rotgut. He had found the ship’s stores during the night and drunk himself into oblivion. He came up bleary-eyed
but none the worse for the storm.
‘Don’t even think of trying anything, Otto,’ threatened Fox menacingly, waving his silver dirk in the air. ‘After your last escapade, you are lucky to be alive. Don’t push your luck. It’s not too late for me to change my mind about feeding you to the Barramon.’
Fox set Otto to work splicing ropes, mending broken spars and patching ragged sails. Jack, Carl, Ethan, Saxon and Roana worked under Otto’s direction. The broken foremast was securely bound to its shattered stump, making it a couple of metres shorter than the original mast, but almost as sturdy.
The crew worked steadily and patiently, repairing the damaged ship. Within a few hours, the jury-rigged Owl was sailing once more, not quite as proudly as before but still sleek and fast.
The plan had been to intercept the Sea Dragon en route to Sedah a week ago. Since then they had been becalmed and storm tossed, attacked by a Barramon and blown kilometres off course. Who knew where the Sea Dragon might be?
Fox spent ages at his desk, poring over charts, calculating likely speeds and directions. Finally he called the children down to his cabin and gravely closed the door.
‘According to my calculations, we are here,’ Fox pointed on the map, west of the finger of islands jutting north towards Tiregian. Mia immediately scampered down his arm to sit on the blue ocean of the charts.
‘We are dangerously close to Sedah, the Owl is damaged, and we have no real idea of where the Sea Dragon might be. Consequently, I have decided to abandon our search and return to Tiregian immediately.’
The four children gasped in horror. Aisha whined.
‘No! We can’t give up now,’ beseeched Ethan. ‘We must get onto that ship.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Fox replied firmly. ‘It is not worth risking all our lives and my ship for the vague hope of some treasure. We are going home.’
‘Please, Fox,’ Lily entreated. ‘Can’t we at least try?’
‘Why?’ asked Fox suspiciously. ‘What could possibly be on the Sea Dragon that is worth risking so much to find?’
Voyage of the Owl Page 12
