Phoenix Burning
Page 27
“Which explains the dragon stories.” The captain nodded.
“And might have caused the island to rise,” Toby cried excitedly.
“It’s not just volcanoes.” She traced the words. “Magnetic anomalies, whirlpools, thick fog, sudden storms. It’s practically unnavigable.”
Toby’s eye fell on the map, tucked into the back of the Atlas next to Hiko’s attempted translation. It seemed years ago that he had last seen it. He pulled it carefully from the book and turned it over.
“Avoid the fast mist and take three swift turns around the white doom spiral,” he muttered.
“Let me see that,” Peel snatched it from him.
“Careful,” the captain warned. “It’s meaningless, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to throw it out.”
“It isn’t meaningless,” Toby said slowly. He saw Ayla, listening intently from the back of the mess hall. “Don’t you see?”
The captain shook his head.
“The white doom spiral,” Toby pressed. “It’s a whirlpool!”
“Ashes, he’s right,” Dee murmured. “And the fast mist – that’s a sudden fog.”
“So it means ‘avoid the sudden fog or you’ll be taken three times around the whirlpool’.” Dee jumped to her feet. “This isn’t a map, it’s instructions. There are a dozen haikus here. Taken in order they’re a guide through the Dragon’s Triangle.”
“Did your father have a map?” Toby whirled on Hiko.
Hiko shook his head. “I don’t know. When the trader sold me at the slave market, he said he’d get a few pennies for all Father’s things, too. He didn’t leave me with anything.” He ran his fingers over the tattoo.
“That’s why the Tarifan port master had the map.” Toby was almost jumping in his excitement. “He bought it from the trader when he bought you. It was your father’s, Hiko. Your father knew where the island was and he was taking your family there.”
“And now we have it.” Dee added. “Permission to set a course, Captain?”
Ayla stood on the deck of the Phoenix and watched the Banshee approach. “Nell’s coming,” she said.
Toby touched her bandaged hand with his own wrapped fingers. “It’ll be all right, the Banshee’s not wailing.”
Ayla laughed bitterly. The wind shifted her hair around her face and she made no move to push it away. “I’ll have to go back,” she said eventually.
“I know.” Toby leaned closer. “I wouldn’t ask you to stay.”
“Even though I know the coordinates?”
“Even though.” Toby smiled wryly. “You might know where the island is, but you can’t translate your copy of the map. Dee said the sea was unnavigable without it. We’re not worried.”
Ayla leaned on the railing. “We can just follow you.”
Toby pulled Ayla around to face him. “You can try.” A shout from the Banshee told Toby they were within hailing distance. “Part of me hopes you succeed. An island won’t be fun without you.”
Ayla’s eyes widened as Toby took her face in his hands and kissed her.
The breeze caressed them and salt foam danced as the Phoenix dipped into a wave. Toby didn’t care that they had an audience. Ayla’s arms snaked around his neck and he deepened the kiss.
They were pirates. They had today. Tomorrow would take care of itself.
HOW TO READ HIKO’S TATTOO
Japanese multiplication works with lines. For example, if you want to work out 2 x 2 you draw two lines intersecting two lines and count the places they cross:
If you want to work out 23 x 2 you draw 23 as two lines, then a gap, then three lines. You then draw two lines the other way crossing them, as before. As you can see, we now have two sets of intersecting points, a group of 4 and a group of 6.
To work out a bigger number, such as 32 x 21, you will have even more intersecting groups. These need to be grouped together according to hundreds, tens and units as below:
With even bigger numbers you have to start carrying units across when you add your groups. Here is 132 x 16: the answer is not 192,012! When the intersected lines move into double figures you need to start carrying figures across, working from right to left:
Here is a table to show the steps you need to take when you have answers in double figures. Don’t forget to work from right to left!
This is what Hiko’s tattoo looks like:
The pirates work out that the arrows signify compass points – north and east. The lines of Hiko’s tattoo use the Japanese multiplication system to encode the coordinates for the island that Hiko’s father found. Here is how you work out those coordinates from Hiko’s tattoo. The dotted line is used to signify zero.
Once Hideaki has pointed out that Hiko’s tattoo represents the number 20,140, the pirates puzzle over its significance. It is Toby who figures out that the number is in fact the coordinates 20 degrees north and 140 degrees east.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This is the first time I’ve written a sequel and so massive thanks to Stripes and my editor, Ruth Bennett, for allowing me to stay in Toby’s world a little longer. These characters feel like family now and I hope they get to their island.
Thanks to the wonderful writers Rhian Ivory, Sarwat Chadda and Emma Pass who read and enjoyed Phoenix Rising enough to give me a quote for the cover.
And thanks to all the lovely YA writers who have offered support and company over the last few years – it’s wonderful to feel like part of a community, even if we work alone.
Thanks to Jane Christophers, who has kept me plied with drink, taken the children when I’m at my wits’ end and is a true friend.
And thanks to all of my other friends and family, whose enthusiasm and support make writing such a fun task. You know who you are.
Special thanks to Andy, my husband, who has endless patience, and Maisie and Riley, my children, who do not have endless patience, but are endlessly inspiring and for whom I write, always.
And a final huge thank you to you, the reader, for sticking with Toby’s story as long as I have.
Keep on reading, keep on thinking and keep on changing our world.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Bryony Pearce has always loved to write. She studied English Literature at Cambridge University and after working in London for a few years she dedicated her time to writing. Her debut novel Angel’s Fury was longlisted for the Branford Boase Award and won both the Leeds Book Award and the Cheshire Schools Book Award. Phoenix Rising has also been shortlisted for several awards.
Bryony now lives in a village in the Forest of Dean with her husband, Andy, and two children, Maisie and Riley. She can usually be found reading, writing, ferrying children from place to place and avoiding housework.
For more information about Bryony and her work,
visit www.bryonypearce.co.uk or follow
her on Twitter @BryonyPearce.
PROLOGUE
The ship was empty; silent but for the creak of rigging, the ticking of the boiler and the hiss of the fire as it consumed the fuel Toby had fed it. Every other pirate was visiting the German port where they had docked – trading for supplies, swapping news and taking a day’s break from the salt.
Toby glanced at the open porthole, which faced the poisonous sea. Outside, the dam was holding back an ocean of junk. Toby could see it pressing against the wall – a looming mass of old cars, vans, washing machines and prams, the litter of a civilization destroyed by human greed and the vengeance of Mother Nature.
“You won’t be able to see anything.” Polly glided from her perch and landed on his shoulder. “You may as well clean out the boiler.”
Toby turned from the window with a sigh. “Sometimes I dream of land.”
“That’s natural.” The parrot fluffed her feathers. “I’ve never seen a tree in my life, but sometimes, when my processor shuts down, I see leaves.”
Toby sighed again, then went over to the brushes. “I just wish they’d dock so my porthole faced the jetty.”
“I know.” Toby shook his head. “And I’d probably hate land anyway. Crowded.”
“Dirty,” Polly agreed.
“Smelly.” Toby grinned. “Nothing like the Phoenix, then.”
Polly leaped from his shoulder and landed on the boiler’s control panel. “Let’s get this over with. I hate it when you clean the blowers out, the soot sticks to my feathers.”
“All right.” Toby was halfway up the ladder, his brush over his shoulder, when he stopped. “Did you hear that?” He frowned as he listened for the sound.
“It’s just junk knocking against the ship.” Polly’s plumage bobbed as she shuffled from foot to foot. “Ignore it.”
“There isn’t any junk here.” Toby climbed back down the ladder. “They have a dam.”
“It could be anything, Toby. It’s not our concern.”
“Listen.” Toby ran for the porthole and leaned out. His eyes widened. Beneath him was a tiny raft, barely more than two planks wrapped with cord. On it was a red-haired man, his arms wrapped around the wood and his legs kicking weakly against the tide that tried to drag him back to shore. As Toby watched, the raft knocked against the side of the ship once more.
“Hey, down there!” Toby called and the man lifted his head. A violet bruise ringed his throat and his face was livid with broken blood vessels.
Toby gasped. “Polly, he’s been hanged!”
“Help me!” the man croaked.
“We have to get him out of the salt.” Toby spun round to Polly. “His skin’ll be burning off.”
“Stay out of it, Toby.”
“And leave him to die? I don’t think so.” Toby ran for the boiler-room door. “I’m going out.”
“No, you’re not.” Polly flew in front of his face. “The captain would skin me alive.”
“Then how do we help him? Just let me throw him a rope.”
“What if he’s a spy? What if he’s been sent to capture you and you help him climb on board the ship?”
“He’s not a spy, he’s injured, look at him.” Toby went to open the boiler-room door. “I’m not just going to let a man die, Polly. I’m going out.”
Polly caught Toby’s hair and flew backwards, but he didn’t even falter. Toby spun the wheel, opened the door and stepped into the passageway.
The passageways of the Phoenix were eerie; dripping with condensation and free of the rowdy men and women that usually filled them. Toby ran to the nearest ladder, shinned up it and hit the next level at a dead run.
Polly followed him, shouting as she went. “The captain will kill you and he’ll put me in the fuel compressor! What happens if he’s after you? How do I explain that to your father?”
Toby hesitated.
“Last chance, Toby. Turn around and pretend you didn’t see anything.”
Toby shook his head and opened the door as Polly continued to shriek, “It’s too dangerous!”
Sunlight hit Toby like a hammer, making him blink in the fresh air. This close to land, the Phoenix was covered in gulls and, as Toby stepped out, they took flight with raucous caws.
Toby allowed himself a look at the dock and saw that it was busy with traders. He caught a glimpse of riotous colours and the scent of cooking reached him. To the right of the pier he spotted a gallows where three men swung, black crows weighing down their shoulders. One of the ropes hung empty and Toby could make out a disturbance in the crowd – Greymen searching for the escaped convict.
Toby shuddered and ran for the port side of the ship. He leaned over the gunwale and looked for the tiny raft. The man wasn’t moving.
“What if he’s unconscious,” Toby wondered aloud.
“Then he’ll drown,” Polly squawked unsympathetically.
“You’re not usually this cruel.”
“And you’re not usually this stubborn.” Polly nudged him with her wing. “I’m programmed to protect you, Toby, not some criminal. You don’t know what he’s done. He could be a murderer.”
Toby uncoiled a rope and tied it to the rail. Then he threw it over the side. It unwound as it fell and the end splashed into the water beside the man’s outstretched arm. Toby winced as corrosive salt hissed on his shirt, but the man didn’t move.
“I’ve thrown you a rope,” Toby yelled. “Grab hold and I’ll pull you up.”
“He can’t hear you –” Polly ruffled her feathers and looked around anxiously – “but other people might. You tried, now let’s go back down.”
Toby grabbed the rope and wriggled it until the thick hemp knocked against the raft. He held his breath as the planks wobbled in the waves, then the man looked up slowly. He saw the rope beside him and wrapped it around one arm.
Toby started to pull, his muscles popping beneath his threadbare shirt from the strain. “He’s heavy,” he groaned.
“Then let him go,” Polly snapped.
In answer, Toby braced his legs on the rail and heaved.
After a short while Toby could feel the rope move faster through his hands and realized that the man was trying to help by walking up the side of the ship. Toby renewed his efforts. His shoulders ached now but he distracted himself from the burn by focusing on the pictures the crew had scrawled on the deck and the gunwale. Mostly they were doodles imagining the island they were searching for. Each was a little prayer – a hope that next week, next month or even next year, they would find that island and make it their home.
Eventually the man’s hand appeared on the rail and Toby was able to release the rope, grip his wrist and pull him to safety.
The man sagged on to the deck. His legs twitched – he wasn’t going anywhere without Toby’s help. Toby wrapped the man’s arm around his shoulder and dragged him to the hatch. He pushed him down the ladder and winced as the man collapsed at the bottom.
“Sorry.”
Toby followed more carefully, slamming the hatch behind them, grateful for the sudden darkness that hid them from the crowd on the jetty. He watched as the man crawled to the wall and propped himself up. Toby sat opposite him in the narrow passageway. Polly placed herself between Toby’s knees, glaring at the stranger, her claws glimmering in the dim light.
For a long moment there was silence.
“Thank you.” The man hung his head and his bright red hair flopped into his eyes.
“They tried to hang you.” Toby tilted his head. “It was a risk, going into the water.”
The man nodded. “But you saved me.”
“The captain could still throw you back in.”
“I hope not.” The man pushed his hair back from his face and Toby winced at the sight of his raw throat. “My name’s Marcus.”
“I’m Toby. This is Polly.” He gestured and Polly squawked a warning. Toby’s blue eyes crinkled. “You better not mess with her. Welcome to the Phoenix.”
Copyright
STRIPES PUBLISHING
An imprint of Little Tiger Press
1 The Coda Centre, 189 Munster Road,
London SW6 6AW
First published as an ebook by Stripes Publishing in 2016
Text copyright © Bryony Pearce, 2016
Cover copyright © Stripes Publishing Ltd, 2016
Photographic images courtesy of www.shutterstock.com
eISBN: 978–1–84715–766–9
The right of Bryony Pearce to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any forms, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
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ritish Library.
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