by Maurice Gee
They set out from the bay into open water. The four blue bears stood on the beach watching them go. Later they filed up the bluff and went from sight. The stretch of sand shrank until it was no more than a yellow bite in the long blue coast. Then Limpy turned north and the trimaran sped on the southerly, over the choppy sea, through the morning and afternoon and into the night. They saw no other boats but passed a village, set in a cleft in a headland. Limpy pointed out the temple, a white stone building taller than the others, with outspread stone wings fixed on its dome.
When he had to sleep he put out a sea anchor. They showed no lights. The next day they went north again, with the breeze still behind them. The coast grew wilder. Towards dusk Limpy pointed out a craggy headland.
‘Stonehaven is on the northern side. I know a place on the south where we can anchor. No one will find us. If I go in the night we will lose no time.’
He brought the trimaran into a cove behind a reef and they ate and talked until the sun was down. Then Limpy lowered himself over the side and swam ashore. They saw him scurry over the beach into the rocks. ‘I’ll be back by morning,’ he called.
‘I hope he is.’
‘What we haven’t worked out,’ Jimmy said, ‘is how we’re going to rescue this girl. We can’t just knock on the door and say we want her.’
‘And we’ve got to destroy the religion too,’ Susan said. ‘I’ve got to tell them it’s all wrong.’
‘They won’t believe you,’ Nick said.
‘We got to show ’em, not tell ’em,’ Jimmy said. ‘And we got to nobble this High Priest. Maybe I could chuck ’im orf Sheercliff like Odo Cling.’ He stopped for a moment and talked with Ben.
‘Yeah,’ Jimmy said. ‘Ben reckons them Birdfolk would be a help. If we had a half a dozen we could fly in an’ grab the High Priest. An’ rescue Soona too.’
‘They can’t fly outside their land,’ Nick said.
‘Sure they can. They just don’t know how. Ben knows, don’t you old feller?’
The bear nodded.
‘But it’s no good telling ’em. They gotter see for themselves. Mind you, we could give ’em a nudge.’ He talked to Ben again. The old bear seemed troubled.
‘He’s not too sure he wants Birdfolk flying outside. They used to be a pretty blood-thirsty lot. That’s why they got the spell put on ’em. But I reckon only the good ones would get out. The rest are too full of ’emselves. They’d never do it.’
‘Do what?’
Jimmy grinned. ‘You’ve heard about the Prohibition. They got it carved up in all the Halls. “Unless ye be as Humble as the Worm … ” What could be plainer? It tells ’em exactly what to do. But they’re so bloddy pleased with themselves they can’t see it. They can’t see past flying. The Birdfolk mind don’t work in no other way.’
‘You mean … ?’ Nick said. He was so excited he flashed an image at Ben. It was the first time he had ‘talked’. The bear grinned at him and sent back an answer.
‘I could go to them,’ Nick cried. ‘I could go to Morninghall and tell them.’
‘No,’ Jimmy said. ‘They gotter see fer themselves, like I told yer. But what you can do is drop a hint. One or two of ’em would prob’ly catch on.’
‘Silverwing would. Yellowclaw would,’ Susan said.
‘I’ll go,’ Nick said. ‘I’ll start now. We’ll get to the Temple almost as soon as you.’
‘You’ll need Dawn to guide you,’ Susan said.
‘Yes,’ the Woodlander said. ‘We’ll go to Shady Home and over the pass. The Birds will find us there and take us to Morninghall.’
They gathered up their belongings and swam ashore. Nick called goodbye from the beach. In his eagerness to go he had hardly noticed Susan. She watched while he and Dawn crossed the sand and merged into the rocks. He was her link with home. Jimmy was a man of O now and had a strangeness about him that sometimes frightened her. And Ben, she felt, associated her with the Priests of Ferris. She felt lonely on the boat and wished Limpy would come. He belonged on O too, but his worries were ones she might share.
Jimmy sensed her mood and tried to entertain her with stories. And soon she was laughing and her depression passed. They lay under their blankets on the gently rocking boat and went to sleep. But Susan had troubled dreams. She dreamed of the Temple, a white building gleaming in the sun, but filled inside with gloomy labyrinths. She ran through corridors, and someone chased her. She could not see if it was the High Priest, but saw a white face flashing in the dark, and something running like a spider. She heard the rattle of bones and fled with arms outstretched – and knew she should not run, but turn and face him. The barking of dogs and cries of men came mingled with the noise of the bones. Then she woke, sweating, calling out, and saw Jimmy and Ben in the stern, facing the land. The sounds came from there. The barking and cries were real. She looked where Jimmy pointed and saw pricking lights on the headland.
Jimmy gave Ben a quick touch and the bear slid into the sea, making no splash. He did not surface for a long time, then Susan heard a noise of water on the reef. ‘He’ll work his way round to the track,’ Jimmy said.
‘Are they chasing Limpy?’
‘Looks like it’.
The sky lightened quickly and the torches faded. Halfway down the slope she saw men running. One was a priest, holding two dogs. Men with spears and axes came behind. ‘Fishermen from the village,’ Jimmy said. ‘They’ll be no trouble. It’s that priest we gotter watch.’
‘Where’s Limpy?’
Jimmy pointed lower down the headland. She saw Limpy scuttling there, in and out of bushes and rocks, sliding and jumping down. Every few metres he stopped to wait for a man behind.
‘That must be his father.’
Ben waited hidden at the edge of the sand. In a moment a yell of rage came from up the hill.
‘They’ve seen the boat,’ Jimmy said. ‘He’s letting his dogs go.’ The two animals flashed away from the men, darting like weasels down the hillside.
‘They’ll catch them,’ Susan cried.
‘They ain’t seen ole Ben yet.’
Limpy and his father reached the beach. They ran over it towards the boat. The dogs were close behind and would have taken them before they reached the water. But as they came leaping down the last few metres of path, Ben rose from his hiding place and stood at his full height and gave a roar. The dogs braked frantically, yelping in terror, but their momentum rolled them against his legs. He could have killed them then, with two blows, but he kicked them away and roared again, and they fled yelping, up the hill, past the priest, ignoring his cries, through the fishermen, and along the hilltop towards the forest.
‘He’ll never see them again,’ Jimmy laughed.
Then Ben started up the path, climbing slowly, letting the priest and his followers see him. They broke and ran, with yelps like those of the dogs. The priest ran fastest of all, a skinny frantic sprinter in his night-black clothes. Ben helped them on their way with another roar.
Meanwhile Limpy and his father had swum to the boat. Susan pulled the exhausted man aboard. He lay panting on the deck. Limpy ran to get the anchor up. He raised the sails and the boat started out of the bay.
‘Wait for Ben,’ Susan cried.
‘He’s all right,’ Jimmy said. The old bear was coming down the path. He ambled across the sand, slid into the water, and surfaced a moment later by the boat. He pulled himself aboard, gouging the deck with his claws.
‘Nice goin’, Ben,’ Jimmy said.
Susan helped Limpy’s father sit up. She brought a drink for him and in a moment he was able to help Limpy take the boat through the broken water at the end of the reef. Limpy offered him the tiller.
‘No, boy. This is your boat. I’ll be crew.’
They reached the open water and the boat bucked as it made its way along the southern shore of the headland. Susan stood by Limpy at the tiller.
‘What happened, Limpy?’
‘I spent the night talking with my f
ather. But someone must have seen our lamp. It is against the law to stay up late.’
‘Is everything against the law?’
‘People who talk at night might be plotting against the Temple. We heard the priest coming. So we ran. If Ben hadn’t been there we’d be dead.’
‘What will happen to your mother and grandmother?’
‘They pretended to be sleeping. They are safe. But my mother – when I came she spoke again. For the first time. She will be well.’ He looked away, pretending to be occupied with steering. Susan saw tears on his cheeks. His father came to stand at his side. He put his hand on Limpy’s shoulder.
‘Look to your boat, boy. Bring her into the wind.’
Limpy obeyed. He wiped his face.
‘You are a sailor,’ his father said. ‘No priest will keep you from the sea.’ He turned to Susan. ‘Are you truly Susan Ferris?’
‘Yes.’
‘A human girl? No more than that?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then the priests are liars. I have always known it.’ He looked from Susan to Jimmy and back again. ‘My name is Kenno. I am a fisherman of Stonehaven. And I pledge myself to destroy the Priests of Ferris and the Temple. Will you help me?’
‘We’ll try,’ Susan said.
‘And save my daughter?’
‘Yes. We’ll save her.’ It was easy to say at that moment. Later she began once more to wonder how.
After an hour’s sailing Limpy turned the boat north and the headland slid behind them. Stonehaven village straggled down the cliffside to the sea. The morning sun lit buildings here and there, and threw long shadows in the streets. The tiny fields of grain made yellow splashes, and the white temple, with its spreading wings, gleamed like a pearl. It was peaceful, Susan thought, picturesque, like a tourist photo of a Mediterranean village. But as she watched, fishing boats nosed out from the harbour wall. Wind swelled their sails and seemed to lift them at the trimaran. A figure in white stood in the stern of the leading boat.
‘The priest,’ Kenno said.
‘They won’t catch us,’ Limpy said. ‘We’re too fast.’
‘What they will do is sail up the coast to Castle Rock. There are warboats there. Warboats can outsail us.’
‘Our best chance is to get well ahead.’
He ordered more sail and Kenno broke out a spinnaker that bellied up and almost lifted the trimaran out of the water. The only thing Susan did not like was the black outstretched wings painted on it. She was starting to hate that emblem. But as the morning went on the fishing boats dropped further and further behind.
They kept well out to sea and sailed through the night, with Limpy and Kenno taking turns at the tiller. In the morning they stopped for an hour on the seaward side of an island and filled their water tanks from a spring. Jimmy fished and Ben, diving off the rocks, caught fish in the kelp and swallowed them whole. Kenno cut a sapling and began making a bow. For a while Susan collected sharp stones for arrowheads, then she went to the southern tip of the island and searched the horizon. There was no sign of pursuing boats. She looked at the sea, heaving among the reefs, and wondered if Seafolk lived in these waters. It would be a good place. Plenty of fish, plenty of edible weed. But before she could make up her mind to call them Limpy signalled from the boat and she had to go back.
They put out to sea and continued their voyage north. Late in the afternoon the sun flashed on some buildings, far away on the shore.
‘Castle Rock,’ Kenno said. ‘The priest will arrive tonight. There will be warboats after us in the morning.’
Behind Castle Rock plains stretched inland to a low ridge where Sheercliff began. It grew in height, bending away north. The land rose gradually beyond, and the dusty blue and green of it was Wildwood. Here and there Susan saw smoke, and it heartened her to see the mountains rising like a wall in the distance. No matter how busy they became, the priests would never manage to destroy those. And she thought of Nick and Dawn somewhere in Wildwood, on their way to Morninghall, over the mountains. She knew she must face the High Priest, and face him alone, but after that she had no idea what would happen. The Birdfolk might be the ones who saved Soona. Saving her was just as important as ending the Temple. She was curious about Soona, and felt an affection growing for the girl who had dreamed of her, dreamed her back to O – even though coming back had brought her into danger.
In the dawn of the following day they passed the mouth of the river Susan had travelled up on her way to place the Halves. The city rose on the plain beyond, with its towers dark over the morning mist. Susan strained to see, but could not make out Otis Claw’s palace.
‘They say it has fallen,’ Kenno said. ‘The city was evil and men abandoned it. Now it is a ruin where no one lives.’
‘What about the Motherstone? What about the Halves?’
Kenno did not know. But Susan thought if the palace had fallen they would be buried under thousands of tons of rock – lost forever. Safe forever. Men would never interfere with the Halves again.
They sailed on and passed Susan’s island. She saw the beach where she had landed on her glider and where she had been rescued by the Seafolk. She would have liked to go ashore, and she turned to ask Limpy if there was time. But the fierce look on his face stopped her.
‘What is it, Limpy?’
‘Look behind.’
She looked but could see nothing. Kenno came to her side and pointed. She saw two scraps of sail, like tiny pointed hats, far away south.
‘Warboats,’ he said.
To her they looked like yachts out for a sail. She found it hard to believe they were dangerous. It was only when she realized she could not see their hulls that she understood how large they were. But that also meant they were far away.
‘They’re too far back to catch us.’
‘In two hours they will be in bow shot. And see how one is heading off. They will trap us before we round the cape.’
One of the warboats was heading out to sea. Ahead the coast curved north-east and disappeared in a haze.
‘Part of it is an island,’ Kenno said. ‘There’s a way between.’
‘Deadman’s Channel.’ Limpy had gone pale. ‘There is draft enough for us and not for them. But what about the other side? The Gut?’
Kenno smiled. ‘I have always wanted to see it.’
Jimmy had come close. ‘I’ve heard about this Gut. If it’s as bad as they say I don’t like our chances.’
‘Would you rather face the warboats?’
Jimmy looked at them. Their hulls were starting to show over the horizon. ‘I reckon not.’ He ‘spoke’ with Ben, and Susan had an image of a tunnel in the sea, spinning and bottomless. The bear raised his head and seemed to shrug.
‘It don’t bother him. But what about Susie, here? She gets a vote.’
‘It’s simple,’ Kenno said. ‘If we stay to fight, we die. If we risk the Gut, we have a chance of living.’
‘Is the Gut a whirlpool?’ Susan asked.
‘Yes,’ Limpy said. ‘But sometimes it is worse than others. Fishermen have risked it and got through.’
‘Then we’ll risk it.’
‘We haven’t got away from them warboats yet. They’re comin’ fast,’ Jimmy said.
One of the boats was heading towards the far curve of the cape, but the second was making straight for them and seemed to grow larger every minute. When she strained her eyes she made out the spread-wing emblem on the sail. And soon she saw oars along the sides, working evenly and fast, like a centipede’s legs.
Limpy kept their boat pointed at a hump in the coastline. The wind stayed southerly and they ran before it. Details on the land became clearer: thorn trees, isolated goats. And on the warboat a towering foredeck, a bow-wave like a sneering white moustache.
Kenno and Jimmy made a shelter for Limpy with hatch-covers. Then they sheltered in the deck-house. Kenno strung his bow. Looking out the front window, Susan saw the channel between the mainland and the island. It ran stra
ight as a suburban street. She saw that Limpy would have only a metre or two on each side. If he got through his father would know he was a real sailor. She decided not to watch. She would sooner watch the warboat.
It was close enough for her to see priest bowmen leaning on the forward rail. She saw their Ferris bones like necklaces. The white close-fitting leather of their suits, their chalky faces, turned them into walking skeletons.
‘See,’ Kenno said, pointing out a tall priest on the point of the bow. ‘It is our priest, from Stonehaven.’ Even at that distance Susan saw the burning in his eye. A cry of command rang out from the warboat. The priests raised their cross-bows.
‘Down,’ Kenno said. ‘Limpy, take care.’ The boy was crouching in his shelter, with the tiller grasped through the opening of the hatch-covers. Susan heard a second shout from the warboat. She made herself small at the base of a wall. A second later a rapid thudding sounded as bolts struck the deck-house and the shelter. Several came through the window and smashed into the wall across the room.
‘Pray that none take our rigging,’ Kenno said. He looked out the door. The first row of bowmen stepped back and a second took its place. Again the commands were shouted, and another volley of bolts struck the boat. They seemed stronger. The warboat was closing every minute.
Susan risked looking out the door. She hoped Ben was all right, forward of the deck-house. Limpy was crouched in his shelter and he gave a pale grin. But his eyes were focussed beyond her, on the channel entrance. She saw rocks flashing by on either side. Kenno jerked her back and a bolt whistled by her face. ‘They have snipers in the rigging. But we are in the channel. They will have to haul to or run aground.’
He strung an arrow in his bow. Then he ran from the door and joined Limpy in the shelter. Susan risked another look. She saw him kiss the arrowhead, and offer it to Limpy. The boy kissed it. Then Kenno stood suddenly, drew back the string, released the arrow, all in one motion. Susan did not see it fly, but she watched the Stonehaven priest, and saw the shaft stand in his chest like a branch. He looked at it as if it were unbelievable. Then he toppled slowly into the sea. A shout of rage went up from the cross-bowmen. They released another volley, and it struck the boat. Kenno ran back to the deck-house.
