“They come upriver during the Inundation,” Papa said, “but not usually this far, and I have never heard of one attacking a boat.”
“Can you shoot a gun?” Rackham called back to me.
“No,” I said. I’d never liked guns, and Papa wouldn’t have them in the house.
“I’ll shoot a gun,” Putty said.
“You will do no such thing, Parthenia!” Mama said, grabbing hold of Putty. “You will stay in your cabin and let your father kill the thing.”
Papa blinked in surprise. I didn’t blame him. Papa would have had trouble hunting down a moth. But he straightened minutely. “I may be of some help. I have studied the creatures.”
“Good,” Rackham said. “You, me, and Edward.”
“And me,” Mina said.
Rackham shrugged. “The more the merrier. Now follow me.”
Another crash sounded, and we all lurched to our left. “Are you sure the ship can take this?” I said.
“Not forever. But she’s tough.”
The sea serpent hit the side of the boat again, shaking it. I staggered against the wall. Rackham took off down the hallway. I pushed myself upright and grabbed Papa to steady him, then we followed.
“We must watch out for its spines,” Papa panted as we ran along the hallway. “They are highly venomous. A single spine is enough to stun an attacking plesiosaur.”
Rackham reached the end of the hallway and pulled out a key. He fitted it into a metal door. We caught up just as he got the door open. Inside was a small armory. The far wall was covered in a rack of guns. Shelves covered the other walls, stacked with boxes.
Papa wobbled as we came to a halt. His face was red and his breath was coming hard. He leaned against the doorway.
“I am not … accustomed … to such … haste.”
“What else can you tell us?” Rackham said, strapping a long, straight sword around his waist. He pulled his rifle from the rack, then dropped its butt to the ground and pulled a small paper packet from a pouch at his waist.
“Their eyes are sensitive,” Papa said, between breaths. “They are used to hunting in the deep oceans. They do not like bright light.”
Rackham tore open the packet and poured a dark powder into the barrel of his rifle, keeping a pinch between his fingers.
“Didn’t seem to bother that one.”
A thump shook the boat again, then a great scraping began at the bow, working its way along the boat, as though we’d run up against a rock.
“It has membranes to protect its eyes against sunlight, but a bright enough light will cause it pain.”
“We could use photon-emission globes again,” Putty said from the doorway.
“What are you doing here, Parthenia?” Papa said. “I distinctly heard your mother instruct you to stay in your cabin.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Putty said. “She doesn’t know I’ve gone, and Miss Wilkins wasn’t around. I expect she was making tea when all this happened. She drinks a lot of tea.”
“No photon emission globes here,” Rackham said. “We’re a bit more primitive.” He dropped a small, leather-covered ball into the end of the rifle and rammed it down. “Give those a go.” He nodded to a box on one of the shelves next to him.
Mina pulled them down and opened them. “Flares.”
“Throw them at the beast. They might drive it off.” He clipped the ramrod back on his rifle and hoisted it again. “I’ll try to get a lucky shot. Now let’s move.”
A ladder led up to a hatch near the end of the hallway. Rackham swarmed up and peered out.
“Clear!”
Bright evening sunlight poured down from above. I squinted against it and started up the ladder after him.
I’d only made it halfway when the sea serpent crashed against the side of the ship. It tilted and I lost my grip.
Rackham reached down and grabbed my shoulder. “Hold on tight!”
The sea serpent smashed into the ship again and again. The creature was working itself into a frenzy. Banging its head into hundreds of tons of iron probably wasn’t helping it keep calm. I heard glass smash somewhere in the ship. Metal protested loudly. The battering almost tore my arms from my shoulders as I clung on to the ladder.
At last the pounding stopped. My hands felt numb, but I forced myself up and out onto the deck. Rackham crouched beside the hatch, his rifle raised, watching for the sea serpent.
“Why don’t we use the ship’s weapons?” Putty said as she scrambled up.
“It’s not staying still long enough, and I can’t get the elevation down low enough to fire into the water,” Rackham said. “Unless it comes up in front of one of the guns, we’re on our own.”
Mina joined us and passed Putty and me flares. “Your father’s taking a rest.”
Probably for the best. Papa had a great mind, but he hadn’t exactly been a man of action, even when he was young.
The river had gone quiet. Rackham’s ship was still powering downstream. On either side of the river, beyond the reeds and the balloon-palms, the water was beginning to creep over the sides of the banks. Flocks of birds sprang from the reeds as we passed, wheeling up and around to settle again behind us. Apart from the nearly inaudible sounds of the ship’s spring-powered engines and the hush of the water against the hull, everything was silent.
“Do you think it’s gone?” I whispered. My hands were sweating where I clutched the flare. I realized I didn’t even know how the flares worked.
With an explosion of water, the sea serpent rocketed out of the river. Its vast head rose up high. Its spines and frills were spread wide.
“Now!” Rackham yelled.
Putty tore the top off one of her flares and flung it into the air. It tumbled over and over toward the sea serpent, then burst into furious light. The sea serpent’s head whipped back, away from the flare. I copied Putty and threw my own flare. It arced up, right next to Mina’s, and the burning glare of the two made the serpent flinch back again, waving its head from side to side as it tried to avoid the painful intensity of the light.
“Again,” Rackham called. “It’s working.” The end of his rifle followed the beast as unerringly as if they were connected by a string.
Putty flung another flare right at the sea serpent’s nose. That was enough for the beast. It plunged back into the river. The wave rocked the boat.
A moment later, the serpent burst from the river again. This time it wasn’t the head that rose up, but the tail. Water rushed over the deck.
I pulled the end off my last flare and threw it as the sea serpent’s head lifted again, but it was sodden and it didn’t light.
The sea serpent rose, higher and higher. Then the length of its body plunged forward, right across the boat, and dropped.
Metal bent. Glass exploded in a porthole to my left.
“It’s wrapping itself around the boat!” Papa called from where he’d emerged in the hatch. The water had soaked him, too. I wondered how much had washed into the boat. “That’s how they hunt whales.”
“The boat’s metal,” Rackham grunted. He helped Putty to her feet and retreated toward the rest of us. The sea serpent’s coils slid over the top of the boat, and metal complained and twisted.
“Metal bends,” Papa said. “Its coils will be more than strong enough to rupture the hull. It will drag us down.”
The head emerged again, back around our side of the boat. The whole boat was wrapped in a gigantic, scaly coil.
With a squeal of metal, the coil began to tighten.
16
My Really Terrible Plan
The sea serpent’s head stared down at us where we crouched under the shelter of the protruding upper deck.
This wasn’t the way I wanted to go, killed by a sea serpent and dragged to the bottom of the Martian Nile. I hadn’t done anything with my life yet. I hadn’t even figured out what I wanted to do.
The serpent’s coils constricted slowly on the ship. Metal creaked, and the whole ship let out a
moan.
I wasn’t going to give in without a fight. I wasn’t going to let this be the end.
“Can you distract it?” I asked Rackham.
He looked up at the slowly swaying head. “For a minute, maybe. Why?”
“I need your sword,” I said.
“You’ll never cut through its hide. It’s too tough.”
“That’s not the idea,” I said. I couldn’t kill the sea serpent. I couldn’t even injure it. I had to be cleverer than that.
Rackham dragged his sword free of its scabbard and passed it over. “Think you can handle this?”
The sword was much heavier than I’d expected. It took both hands to lift. “I’ll manage.”
“Don’t lose it,” Rackham said. “That’s my favorite sword.”
“I’m coming with you,” Putty said. “I’m much quicker than you, and smarter.”
“You’re not,” I said. “Mina. Hold her. Don’t let her get free. She’s slippery.”
“Edward!” Putty shrieked, but Mina had her, and Mina was strong.
The sea serpent’s long body reached up over the rail, then arced across the top of the ship, before curving around and under, then back up. The only place I would get close enough was by the rail. Right underneath the sea serpent’s head.
“I need you to get it looking the other way,” I said. “Not for long.”
Rackham nodded. “Be quick. If it catches sight of you, I won’t be able to stop it.”
Without waiting for a reply, Rackham pushed himself off and ran out onto the deck.
“Here! This way!” He waved his rifle above his head.
The sea serpent turned to watch him, its head swaying gently, and tightened its coil.
Move! I silently urged it. Move! Why wasn’t it moving? I bit my lip.
But why would it? Rackham was just a flea scampering around the deck. In a few more minutes it would have the whole boat.
Rackham must have thought the same thing, because he knelt and took aim. “Now!” he shouted, and fired.
The shot hit the serpent’s snout. Its head whipped up. A hiss of spittle erupted from its mouth. Then it lunged at Rackham. Its head crashed into the deck where he’d been kneeling, but Rackham had already moved, rolling backward and away.
I hefted the sword and sprinted onto the deck. The entire boat shook under the sea serpent’s fury. It reared up and darted at Rackham again. This time he barely dodged. Planks splintered. The serpent’s body writhed in fury. Spines and frills stood straight out from its body. Venom glistened at the end of the spines.
If only it would stay still.
The serpent’s body twitched sideways as the top deck buckled. Spines came at me like spears. I fell and rolled back as the gigantic body crunched the deck where I’d been standing. One long, venomous spine, almost the length of my body, twitched a hand’s breadth above my face.
I’d dropped the sword. As I’d fallen, it had spilled from my hands. It was lying there, only two or three feet away, but it was underneath the trembling spines.
The boat groaned again. It wasn’t running so smoothly in the water anymore. It felt like it was bumping over waves.
I didn’t know how much longer it could hold out.
The sword was just out of my reach. I’d have to squeeze beneath the spines. A single twitch at the wrong time, and it would impale me.
If only I had a stick or something to hook the sword. But if I went back for one, I’d miss my chance.
I wasn’t even wearing my jacket as armor.
“Oh, God,” I groaned.
The muscles beneath the sea serpent’s hard, black scales contracted ever tighter, squeezing the ship, as though it could choke the life out of it.
I drew in a deep breath, then pushed myself beneath the spines.
The creature squeezed again, and the spine above me came down. It tapped the back of my shoulders so gently it almost felt like a feather. I froze.
Why exactly had I volunteered for this?
The sword was almost within reach. Another foot and I’d get it. Then I could pull it out and be free.
I wriggled another few inches, and the spine caught on my shirt. Even my slight movement pulled the spine further down. All the creature had to do was shiver and the spine would go through my skin and deliver its load of venom. If this could knock out a plesiosaur, I’d be dead before I could cry out.
I stretched my fingers for the sword. It was still too far. I groaned. I was going to have to go back, then try again, and all the time hope the sea serpent didn’t move.
I couldn’t do this.
But if I didn’t, we were all finished. Me, Putty, Mina, Olivia, Jane, Mama, and Papa, not to mention Miss Wilkins, Mr. Davidson, and George Rackham.
The sea serpent prepared for another mighty contraction and its spines lifted no more than an inch. It was enough. I thrust forward.
My fingers closed around the sword just as the serpent crunched down again. Spines jarred against the deck. I scrambled back against the bulk of its body. The spines made a tight cage in front of me. I was pressed against its side, feeling the creature’s blood thrumming under its scales.
“Ah, hell,” I muttered.
Translucent skin stretched between the spines, like a tight leather umbrella. It lifted and fell with the creature’s exertions and breaths.
The sea serpent wasn’t going to like this.
I pulled the sword back as far as I could, then thrust it into the skin between the spines and tugged down. The sword sliced through like cutting through a ship’s sail. The creature twitched, as though it had been stung by a mosquito. Then the skin was hanging loose in a flap. I pushed myself between the spines, and stumbled out onto the deck and into the sunlight.
I shaded my eyes and looked up.
The creature stared back down at me. Either it had gotten Rackham or it had lost interest in him.
It hadn’t lost interest in me.
Its head drew back. Its mouth spread, showing the rows and rows of long, curved teeth.
I swung Rackham’s sword as hard as I could. I wasn’t aiming for the sea serpent’s body. Even as sharp and as heavy as the sword was, it would just have bounced off the scales. I slammed it into one of the spines a hand’s breadth from where it joined the body. There was a crack, like a branch snapping. The impact jarred every bone in my arm. My hands went numb.
The sea serpent flinched. The movement was enough to rip the sword from my hands. It went tumbling end over end to land with a splash in river.
I’d severed one of the sea serpent’s spines. It hung from a flap of torn skin, like an insect caught in a spider’s web. I grabbed hold of it.
The sea serpent’s head rushed down at me. I tugged, throwing myself backward. For a moment I thought the skin was too thick and I wouldn’t be able to pull it free. Then the skin tore and I tumbled away, clutching the severed spine.
The sea serpent smashed into the deck not a foot from me. Hardened ironwood planks shattered. Helplessly, I toppled toward the jutting spines.
Then someone grabbed my shirt and heaved me back.
“You lost my sword,” Rackham said in my ear as he pulled me to my feet.
“I got this, though,” I said, waving the spine.
“At some point you can tell me why that’s a good exchange.”
He dragged me away from the serpent.
Behind us, near the stern of the ship, something ripped into the air with a rush of sound like torn cloth. I jerked around in time to see a small object, the size of my head, rising toward the blue sky as fast as a cannonball. At about a hundred feet, the object leveled, hung in the air for a moment, then raced off southwest, in the direction of Lunae City.
“What on Mars is that?” I said.
“Nothing to do with me,” Rackham said as we stumbled back into the shelter of the overhanging upper deck. The sea serpent seemed to have lost interest in us again as it watched the object streaking away.
“It’s
an inertially-guided automatic courier,” Papa said. “I am quite envious of the design. It can be turned on and carried, and it will always return to its place of origin, no matter where it is taken.”
“Napoleon’s agents use them to send messages back to their headquarters,” Putty said. “They’re almost impossible to intercept and they’re very fast. I told you Miss Wilkins was a spy.”
I watched the ball fade to a dot in the sky. “Great.” I slumped back down on the deck.
Mina crouched beside me. “What were you thinking?” she hissed. “You could have been killed.”
“This is what I was thinking,” I said, holding out the spine. “Papa said the venom in this could knock out a plesiosaur. I figured the sea serpent wouldn’t much like a taste of its own medicine.”
“Edward is right,” Papa said. “The sea serpent is not immune to its own venom. But its scales are far too thick for the spine to penetrate.”
Mina peered out at the enormous creature. Its coils were still tightening slowly on Rackham’s ship.
“What if we could get the serpent to swallow it?” she said.
Papa shook his head. “The venom must enter the bloodstream to work.”
“The mouth,” I said, “or the eyes.”
Mina looked at me like I was crazy. “You want to get that close to its face?”
“I don’t want to. I don’t have a choice.”
“Yes, you do,” Rackham said. “You can give it to me. I’ll do it.”
I stared at him.
“I told you I owed your cousin a debt. I don’t like owing debts.” He grinned his lopsided grin that tugged at his long scar. “I’ve faced worse.”
Reluctantly, I handed the spine over.
Rackham darted out onto the deck and ran right in front of the sea serpent. Its head whipped around furiously. In less than a second it was on him, rushing up behind as he sprinted across the deck. Its jaws spread wide.
Rackham spun on his foot and thrust, just as the jaws loomed over him. His arm disappeared inside the creature’s mouth, and I was sure it would snap shut, cutting off his arm as cleanly as Mama might cut off a thread of cotton. Then his arm reemerged, without the spine.
The Emperor of Mars Page 15
