‘Why?’
‘The Governor’s going on an expedition and—’ the first began.
‘Official Governor’s business,’ interrupted the other. ‘Needs supplies.’
‘An expedition?’
‘His girl’s gone missing. Lupe.’
Her name twisted my stomach. The Governor knew she was missing. He was going after her.
‘No chickens,’ I croaked.
Miss La, on cue, emitted a piercing squawk.
The kinder man gave me an apologetic smile as the other pushed roughly past. ‘Governor Adori’s orders. Wait a minute…’ He frowned at the map-covered walls and table. ‘This the cartographer’s house? The one in the Dédalo?’
I nodded. ‘He’s my father.’
‘Ah.’ The man shifted as I heard the catch on Miss La’s coop slide open. ‘Have you been told?’
‘Told what?’
‘Your father, he’s—’
‘Let’s go,’ said the other man as he emerged from the kitchen. Miss La looked at me indignantly.
‘He’s what?’ I said, heart thumping.
‘We’ll be gentle with her,’ said the kinder man, ignoring my question and taking her softly in his hands.
‘Cook won’t be,’ sneered the other.
‘Hush!’
But I had stopped listening. I felt numb to it all. What had the guard been going to tell me about Da?
They left me alone in the whispering room, thinking.
The expedition would not leave without the chickens.
If I beat the chickens back to the Governor’s house, the expedition would not leave without me.
The late afternoon sun danced on the crystals of the Governor’s basalt mansion, smudging it into a shimmering mirage.
One night, not long after Ma died, Da had taken me and Gabo to the cliffs to sit and watch the moon throw light off the house.
There are two kinds of crystals, he’d told us. One is granite, a light-coloured rock. And, like you two, it has a twin, a dark version of itself. Its name is ‘gabbro’. After that, I had called Gabo ‘Gabbro’ for a while. He hadn’t liked it.
As I got closer, the satchel slapping my thigh, I saw that even the windows glinted – the Governor had had huge sheets of glass made from molten Gromera sand. A room at the front corner of the house was filled with people. Voices drifted across to me through an open window. Two guards stood by the dark wood door. I had not thought this part through. What if no one would let me in?
I crept to the open window.
‘We are wasting time here, we need to get after her!’
‘It’s not a waste, we have to plan this—’
‘—and how do we guarantee your daughter’s safety?’
‘—madness, who knows where she is—’
I took Lupe’s note from my pocket and ripped off the top and bottom so it read:
I’m going across the forest to find who killed Cata. Maybe when I get back we can be friends again.
Love, Lupe
xxxxxx
I peeped inside. There were about a dozen men in Governor’s blue, crowded around a large ornately carved table. No one was looking my way.
Without stopping to think better of it, I pushed my satchel through the window, and tumbled in after it.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
I must have knocked whatever was holding the window open, because it slammed shut as I hit the floor. Hard. The men turned and stared. The silence was sudden and terrifying, stretched wide as a cave.
‘Who are you?’ said someone eventually.
My voice would not come. Scrambling to my knees, I stared at the floor. It was covered in carpets depicting animals and hunting scenes. I moved my knee from the neck of a swan in mid-flight.
‘I—’
‘Did you just come through the window?’ said another.
One of the men standing at the back of the room near the fire threw his arms up in a gesture of exasperation. ‘Speak up! Who are you?’
‘I’m sure he just came through the window.’
I tried again.
‘I – I have this.’ I brought the crumpled note from my pocket. ‘It’s from Lupe.’
All the men seemed to hold their breath.
‘Is this a joke, boy?’ rumbled a low, considered voice.
For one wild moment, I thought it might be Da, but when the crowd parted it was the Governor himself. My throat constricted, and my heart beat so loudly in my ears I was sure he would hear it.
He was sitting at the head of the ornate table, papers spread before him, face as thunder-dark as his house. He stood up and I hurriedly dropped my head. Only days before I had sat opposite him in his carriage. I was counting on the fact that he had barely deigned to look at me in those tense minutes.
‘I said, is this a trick, boy?’
‘N-no.’
‘Why would my daughter be writing to you?’ The voice was low and close now. The newly cropped hairs at the back of my neck lifted. Again I focused on the bunch of keys at his belt, glinting silver and gold. ‘And not to me? Look at me when I’m speaking to you.’
I did. For a painful second, I thought I saw a glimmer of recognition in his black eyes, but it was gone in an instant. I held out the note.
The Governor scrutinized it, then looked up, eyes narrowed. ‘Why would my daughter be writing to you?’ he repeated.
‘She sent it to my sister. Isabella.’ I didn’t think the Governor would like Lupe being friends with a boy. ‘They’re friends. From school,’ I said, deciding to stick as close to the truth as possible.
‘And did she give this to you herself?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Yes. I mean – she left it for us to find. I came straight here when I did.’
‘Are you sure this is not fake?’ said someone pompously. ‘Why would your daughter tell this boy’s sister, and no one else?’
‘Who are you?’ said Governor Adori, slowly, ignoring the man.
‘Gabo Riosse. I’m the cartographer’s son.’
Governor Adori raised his eyebrows. ‘A man with ideas above his station.’
‘His thoughts are very low at the moment,’ quipped another man. ‘Down in the Dédalo.’
The laughter spread again. I kept my eyes on Governor Adori. He was looking at the note, considering.
‘It is not a fake,’ he said decisively. ‘Which means my daughter at least left willingly. That is something to be thankful for. But we have wasted enough time talking. How many horses did you collect, Vasquez?’
‘Nine,’ said Vasquez.
‘Nine?’ the Governor roared. ‘Nine is not nearly enough! My daughter is missing, I need a large search party—’
‘Sir,’ said Vasquez carefully. ‘That is all we have. The others… the harbour. They all belonged to you.’
Adori began pacing back and forth like a caged animal, flexing his fists and muttering to himself. Finally he said, ‘Well. Nine men it is.’
‘We will need to take the horse boy, they’re all still spooked.’ I flinched. It was the man who had taken Da. ‘Don’t know what’s got into the beasts.’
Pablo. My chest loosened slightly at the thought of seeing him.
Governor Adori smacked his hand against the wall. ‘Enough problems! What do you not understand, Marquez? My daughter is gone!’
My chest ached for Cata, gone for ever.
‘And this boy’s father,’ said Vasquez coolly. He seemed used to the Governor’s rages. ‘Can’t leave without a navigator. We’ll need to find water, maybe shelter. Know where to avoid…’
I took a deep breath, thought quickly. Da could not go to the Forgotten Territories. He would never be able to ride with his bad leg.
‘I thought you might say that, sir. I brought his cartography tools.’ I held up the satchel.
‘That cripple? On a horse?’ sneered Marquez. I was happy to see that Pablo had left him with an ugly yellow bruise on his cheek.
‘What option
do we have?’ snapped Adori. ‘Would you have us wandering the Forgotten Territories lost?’
‘Me,’ I said, loudly.
‘What?’ said Adori.
‘I can navigate, sir,’ I said, emboldened by the silence that fell across the room. ‘I’d be more use to you, sir. Than my da, I mean, with his leg being bad. And I have a map, an old one of the Forgotten Territories, from before . . .’ I swallowed, ‘before they were forgotten,’ I finished lamely.
The Governor raised a finger and the room fell silent. His beetle-black eyes were still locked on mine.
‘Can you read maps, boy? Can you draw them?’
‘Yes, sir. My father has trained me.’
‘Prove it.’ He clicked his fingers and there was movement behind him. A small desk and chair were brought forward. The chair was shoved into the backs of my knees, and a piece of paper and ink placed before me. ‘You came through the fields, yes?’
‘Yes.’
‘Being a cartographer, you will know the current positions of the stars.’
It was one of the first things Da taught me. Stars are the earliest maps, the most precise. They can tell you where you are better than a compass – after all, they have a bird’s-eye view. If you can learn to read the stars, you’ll never be lost.
‘Then map the route from here to the square. I want buildings – accurately scaled – field boundaries, the location of north, a wind indication, an estimation of time, walking and on horseback. Do it. Quickly.’
He strode back to the table and the men closed ranks around me, watching. Some of what he was asking was a task for a navigator, not a cartographer. But I knew Da would be able to do it easily, even in the darkness of the Dédalo. I picked up the reed quill and, closing my eyes, retraced the journey behind my eyelids. The night sky danced on them, the stars fixing their positions. I opened my eyes and began to draw.
The Governor was talking again. ‘Vasquez, you are to take up the governorship while I am away.’
‘I’m greatly honoured,’ Vasquez simpered.
‘Sir, wouldn’t it be better if you stayed?’ said Marquez. ‘I hardly think Vasquez capable of controlling Gromera in such an uncertain state—’
‘An uncertain state?’ said the Governor icily. ‘We have locked up the usual troublemakers. Any more, and Vasquez simply has to lock them up too. Do you doubt my judgement, Marquez?’
‘Of course not,’ he blustered.
‘You expect me to stay behind?’ Adori’s voice was rising.
‘I was merely expressing—’
‘Then don’t. Stop expressing. Just do as I say. Understood?’
I assumed Marquez nodded, because no one else spoke, or raised further objections. The route was blossoming like a tabaiba bush beneath my hands; small black buds of buildings, and branches of boundaries. I added the ant-lines of wind as I remembered it, snaking off the sea, south-easterly and warm.
I was just starting the criss-cross of star lines when the Governor’s attention returned to me. ‘Are you done yet, boy?’
I hastily scrawled an estimate of time in the corner before the paper was snatched from me. The Governor regarded it coolly, then said, ‘Marquez, fetch Ferdinand.’
The man left the room as the Governor looked down at me.
‘Can you ride a horse?’
‘Yes.’
‘Can you follow orders? Do you know when to speak and when to be silent?’
I nodded vigorously, to show I did.
Governor Adori rocked backwards slightly on his heels, his eyebrows knitting.
‘How old are you?’
It was not a question I had been expecting. I was about to say thirteen, but something stopped me. Lupe was thirteen, too. Adori might think of her if I said my real age, and might not let me go. Pablo was fifteen, but so tall and broad he would pass for a man. Best to settle for somewhere in-between.
‘Fourteen, sir.’
‘Small for fourteen,’ sniped Marquez, but Governor Adori nodded.
‘I didn’t much like the idea of taking Riosse with us anyway. He’s old and disrespectful, and that leg is a hindrance.’ He turned his back. ‘You’ll do.’
Hardly believing it, I said, ‘Sir, I thought that if I came with you, maybe my father could—’
‘Don’t push your luck, boy.’ The Governor’s voice sent shivers spidering across my back. ‘If you do not disappoint me, we’ll see about your father.’
The door opened and I saw the kind man who had fetched Miss La.
‘Go with Ferdinand to fetch the horse boy. You two can saddle up the horses.’ He turned to the man. ‘Watch them. If they try anything, put them both in the Dédalo. And send Luis here, I want him with us. Oh, and Ferdinand?’
‘Yes, sir?’
‘Don’t let him see Riosse. I don’t want him starting any trouble down there.’
‘Yes, sir. Come on, boy.’
I allowed myself to be led out of the room into the dark hallway, the tide of voices rising again. I had done it. I was going.
Ferdinand led me along a corridor. ‘Why didn’t you say you were coming here, eh? Could have given you a lift.’
I could tell he was trying to put me at ease, but my skin was crawling with nerves. The Governor’s house seemed to go on for ever. The floors were covered with tapestries, muffling our steps.
The Governor’s blue was everywhere. Even the ceilings were like a sky. It seemed such a waste. Da always had to ration his sea-colours, and yet here there was enough blue dye to make a large-scale map of Afrik’s rivers. Most of the walls were covered with paintings of stern-eyed men and ships. There were so many candles, wax burning down and no one using the light.
At last we reached a place where the corridor intersected with another, like a crossroads. At the centre was a trapdoor fitted with a heavy metal lock. I swallowed hard. The entrance to the Dédalo.
A guard stood over it. He frowned as we approached.
‘What’s going on?’
‘You’re needed in the drawing room, Luis,’ said Ferdinand curtly.
The guard left without another word. It was strange, I thought, how they followed orders without comment or question.
Ferdinand took a key from his belt and stooped to unlock the trapdoor, turning the key slowly and with great effort. The bolts slid noisily.
The man heaved, veins in his neck straining as the trapdoor creaked open. He let it fall to the floor with a bang, wincing at the noise. A terrible smell rose from the entrance below: damp, rotting. In the thin light of Ferdinand’s lamp, I could see a stone-cut staircase leading into an impenetrable blackness. It made me dizzy just looking at it.
He climbed gingerly down the first few steps, then seemed to remember he was not alone. He stopped, and climbed back up, taking chains from his belt.
‘Nearly forgot,’ he said, holding out the chain.
He locked my wrists together, and fixed the chain to a bolt in the wall, next to a heavy-legged table. I shuddered. How many people had been locked here before descending to the Dédalo?
I watched as the lamp became a pinprick of light, fading as Ferdinand went lower, towards Da, somewhere below me.
I looked around, eyes catching something above the table.
A large butterfly was resting on the sky-blue wall, its wings outstretched. They were an iridescent purple, edged with black. I had never seen a butterfly that size or colour before. I leant forward, taking care not to move too fast.
It was not until I was breathing close enough to rustle the wings that I saw it was behind glass, saw the pin through its heart.
CHAPTER
NINE
I leant heavily against the table leg with my back to the butterfly until Pablo’s exhausted face came into view. His hands were tied behind him, his clothes filthy. He was dragging his feet, squinting as he stepped into the light of the corridor. His eyes widened when he saw me, but thankfully he said nothing as Ferdinand unchained me.
We followed the gua
rd in silence, crossing a small courtyard to the stables. Nine horses were lined up inside. I could tell they were not the sort of horses the Governor was used to. In fact, I was quite sure that one of them was a donkey.
‘No trouble, you two. I’ll be just in here.’ Ferdinand indicated another door. The smell of cooking wafted out. ‘Don’t worry, that’s not your chicken!’ he said to me. ‘She’s in one of those boxes there. Had to put her in a separate one – she kept pecking the others.’ He pointed to a stack of wooden crates. I grimaced. Miss La would not like being squashed in like that, alone or not.
‘We need all of that, on those,’ Ferdinand continued, nodding at the horses.
Pablo raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re taking live chickens?’
Ferdinand shrugged. ‘The men like to eat fresh. And I wouldn’t keep them waiting.’
He untied Pablo’s hands and went inside.
I waited until the door closed, then turned quickly to Pablo. ‘Is Da all right?’
‘Why have you cut your hair?’
‘To come here.’
He sniffed. ‘Looks all right.’
‘I don’t care how it looks. How’s Da?’
His face was inscrutable. ‘Why are you here?’
‘How is he?’
‘Well enough. Goraz is looking out for him.’
‘And Masha?’
‘Not too bad.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Your da is all right, Isabella. You should worry more about yourself.’
He began to lead the horses out into the courtyard. I went over to the crates and started trying to locate Miss La.
‘What happened? The night the animals—’
He turned, eyes flashing. ‘That was nothing to do with us!’
‘I know that, but do you know how…’ I couldn’t find the words for what had happened in the bay, and anyway I didn’t want to make him angry. He hadn’t had a temper when I’d known him before.
‘No,’ said Pablo. ‘But the others talked about it a lot, in the Dédalo. They think it’s something bad.’
I snorted. ‘Well, obviously it’s something bad.’
‘No, more than that. Not just bad.’ He swallowed, a muscle in his jaw working. ‘A bad omen. It means something else has arrived, to make the animals run to the sea.’
The Girl of Ink & Stars Page 5
