Path of Beasts

by Lian Tanner

  Pounce’s mouth fell open. “You was gunna save Mousie?”

  “You don’t think we’d leave him there, do you?”

  “I dunno. Maybe.” Pounce looked at Goldie, then away again. ’E’s just a worthless little snotty. No one cares about ’im ’cept me.”

  “He’s our friend,” said Goldie. Then she turned back to Toadspit and said, “We’ll do it exactly the same way. Except—” A thought struck her and she grabbed Pounce’s arm. “If you had to choose between Mouse and the Piglet, which would you choose?”

  “Don’t be stupid,” said Pounce, pulling away.

  “No, I mean it. Would you sacrifice the Piglet to save your friend?”

  Pounce lifted his shoulder as if he didn’t care one way or the other, but Goldie could see that he was struggling to hold back tears, and she knew the answer.

  “In that case,” she said, “you’d better come with us.” She turned to Toadspit. “I’ll go in by myself while you and Pounce get the Piglet.”

  “No.” Toadspit shook his head vehemently. “You can’t go alone.”

  “It makes sense, Toadspit, you know it does. If I get caught you’ll still be free to try again. And if I don’t get caught, the Piglet being there at the end might just tip the balance.”

  Toadspit glared at her as if he wanted to argue but knew she was right. He chewed his lip, then scowled at Pounce. “I don’t trust him.”

  “That’s why you’re going with him,” said Goldie. “But I don’t think he’ll betray us. He’s got as much at stake as us, haven’t you, Pounce?”

  The boy didn’t meet her eyes. “Yeah. Um—are yez really gunna get Mousie out?”

  “If we can,” said Goldie.

  “Well,” said Pounce. “Well.” Then, very quickly and quietly, he muttered, “Yez had better be careful. Old Lady Skint’s no fool and neither’s Harrow. They’ll be lookin’ out for anyone stupid enough to try a rescue.” He reddened. “They might even have set a—a trap or somethin’!”

  Goldie forced a grin. “Don’t worry, Pounce. Trap or not, they won’t see me. I promise you they won’t see a thing unless I want them to.”

  The slave ship perched at its moorings like a huge predatory bird. Its deck was hung with lanterns and its bloodred sails were rolled in bundles around the spars. Somewhere in its hold a hundred children wept with despair.

  The sailor with the ruined nose, Mince, was standing guard at the top of the gangway. Goldie drifted toward him. I am the dust on a moth’s wing. I am nothing. . . .

  The tide lapped against the hull. Mince cleared his throat and spat into the water. Goldie stepped past him onto the deck of the Silver Lining.

  Toadspit would be on his way to fetch the Piglet by now, with Pounce. He had hugged her when they parted, and said, “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “Of course I’m sure,” Goldie had replied. But she wasn’t. Not at all. She hefted the bag in her arms and looked for somewhere to hide it, in case things went wrong.

  The Silver Lining was much bigger than the Piglet, and once she had stowed the bag safely, it took her some time to find her way to the slave hold. She sidled down the narrow ladderways, keeping an eye out for the other sailor, Jangle, and hoping that Double was still sick in her cabin and would not suddenly appear.

  But the deeper she went, the less the sailors seemed to matter. Although the ship was new, fear clung to every part of it, and Goldie could hear the echo of a thousand desperate cries. The hair on her neck rose, and by the time she came to the hold, she was dripping with sweat. In the back of her mind, Princess Frisia cursed the slavers and demanded revenge.

  It was dark down there in the bowels of the ship. There were one or two lanterns, but they were so far apart that they barely touched the gloom. The air stank of terror and filth, and the weeping was so loud that Goldie had to put her fingers in her ears or she would not have been able to take another step.

  She found Ma and Pa in the very deepest part of the ship. They were sleeping facedown in a pile of dirty straw, as were the people on either side of them. Farther along that dreadful row, Goldie thought she could see Toadspit’s parents. They were sleeping too. A lantern burned above their heads.

  There were no children in this section. Goldie wondered where Bonnie and Mouse were, and hoped it wouldn’t be too hard to find them.

  She took a deep breath and gathered her courage. Then she let go of the Nothingness.

  One of the prisoners stared dully at her from the end of the row but did not speak. Goldie took her picklock and knife from her pocket and crouched beside her parents. They were chained at wrist and ankle, but the locks were simple and she knew that it would only take a minute or two to open them.

  “Ma!” she breathed. She touched her mother’s shoulder and felt her flinch. “It’s me! Shhh! Don’t say anything! Don’t move!”

  A horrible grunting sound came from the straw, as if Ma was trying to speak and couldn’t. At the same time, Pa began to thrash against his chains so violently that he managed to throw himself onto his back.

  With a shrinking heart, Goldie saw the gag in his mouth, and the helpless plea in his eyes. Run, sweeting! Run!

  But it was too late to run. The “prisoners” on either side had already thrown off their shackles and leaped up with pistols in their hands.

  One of them was the sailor Jangle. The other, dressed in an anonymous brown coat, was Blessed Guardian Hope.

  Double

  Guardian Hope hissed with triumph. “You didn’t think you’d see me again, did you, Golden Roth? Thought you’d got rid of me in Spoke! But now here I am, and here you are, walked into my little trap, sweet as pie. And look, you brought your tools with you! I’ll have those, thank you very much!”

  She snatched the picklock and knife out of Goldie’s hands and put them in her pocket. Goldie bit her lip, hardly able to believe that Guardian Hope was still alive. From the floor, Ma gazed at her with eyes full of pain and sorrow. A bruise was starting up on Pa’s cheekbone, above the gag.

  Guardian Hope dragged Goldie to her feet. “So where are your little friends, Toadspit and Bonnie Hahn? I thought I’d have all three of you. Don’t they care about their parents?”

  She snapped shackles around Goldie’s wrists, and laughed. “Never mind. One is better than none. This reminds me of the old days when you wore the punishment chains. You felt sorry for yourself then, didn’t you? But now—dear me, it’s almost worth a trip south to see you in the slave market! Proud Golden Roth, brought to heel at last!”

  “Here,” said Jangle, reaching for Goldie’s chain. “I’ll put ’er in with the other snotties.”

  Goldie couldn’t help herself—she stumbled backward. At the same time, Guardian Hope jerked the chain out of the sailor’s reach. “Oh no, I’m not taking any chances with this one. She’s too clever for her own good. When is Old Lady Skint due back?”

  “Not till morning,” said Jangle. “She’ll be up to ’er elbows in roast duck by now, along with the rest of the crew.”

  “Who’s in charge while she’s away?”

  “That’d be Double. But you won’t see ’er. She’s green with bellyache. Ain’t come out of ’er cabin since we got ’ere.”

  The Guardian sniffed. “Well, she must come out now. This is too important to take any risks.”

  “Can’t see Double gettin’ out of ’er sickbed for a snotty,” said Jangle.

  “This snotty,” said Guardian Hope, drawing herself up, “has caused the Fugleman more trouble than you can imagine! If she escapes, I will see that all the force of the peninsula is brought against you and your ship.”

  “We’ve ’ad people chasin’ us before.” Jangle laughed. “They never caught us yet.”

  One of the women behind him began to cry, and he kicked her, without bothering to look down. Pa dragged his chained wrists out of the straw and patted the woman’s shoulder, and the sailor kicked him too. Goldie strained at her shackles, knowing she could do nothi
ng to help.

  “All the same,” said Hope, “I will see this Double before I leave.”

  “It’s your funeral,” said Jangle. “’Er cabin’s up ’ere.”

  Guardian Hope pushed Goldie ahead of her through the stinking hold. The awful reek of the place filled Goldie’s throat and lungs until she was sure she was going to be sick. She thought nothing could add to her horror, but then she saw Favor and her parents, their faces yellow with fear, and realized that they must have been picked up at the same time as Ma and Pa. She saw Mouse curled up tight as a bug, his eyes squeezed shut as if he was trying to pretend he wasn’t there. She saw a hundred children, some of them crying softly in the gloom, others dumb with exhaustion and despair.

  They watched her pass, their eyes hopeless. Goldie’s stomach churned, and her heart tore at its moorings.

  “You’re very quiet!” Hope jabbed her in the ribs as they climbed a ladderway. “I hope you realize this is all your fault. His Honor didn’t want to take such drastic action, but he had no choice.”

  “That’s not true,” said Goldie. Her voice shook with anger. “There’s always a choice.” She glared over her shoulder at Guardian Hope. “Always!”

  “Where’s this cabin?” snapped Hope, and she pushed Goldie so hard that she crashed into the wall at the head of the ladderway and almost fell to her knees.

  “There,” said the sailor, pointing to a door with a raised sill. He banged his fist on it. “Hey, Double? Someone wants to see ya.”

  Inside the cabin, a voice snarled, “Go away. I’m sick.”

  Hope dragged Goldie over to the door. “I am Blessed Guardian Hope,” she said, her mouth close to the wood. “I have something I wish to discuss with you. A special prisoner. A girl.”

  Silence from inside the cabin. Then the voice said, “What about her?”

  “You must come out.” Guardian Hope reddened. “I will not be spoken to through a closed door.”

  Goldie heard the creak of a hammock, then the sound of reluctant feet. Her mouth felt as if it were filled with sawdust.

  A latch clicked. A dry voice said, “How about an open door?”

  Old Lady Skint’s second-in-command had blond hair cropped close to her head and a face tattooed with stripes. Her eyes were red, as if she hadn’t slept for several nights.

  Guardian Hope pushed Goldie forward so that her shins banged against the sill. “This girl,” she said, “is a notorious escaper. She and her friends killed one of the most dangerous men in Spoke.”

  Jangle snorted. “She don’t look like a killer.”

  Double’s eyes flickered across Goldie’s face and away again, and for a moment Goldie thought she had seen the slaver somewhere before. But that was impossible. She would have remembered those stripes.

  “This girl came here tonight,” continued Hope, “to free her parents. I want to be sure that she will not get away again. You must keep a constant guard over her. And you had better search her properly. I have already confiscated one device for opening locks. She may well have another.”

  “Is that all?” Double scratched her armpit and yawned.

  “No, it is not!” snapped Guardian Hope. “I will be back first thing in the morning with the Fugleman. I expect to find the child and her parents still here!”

  “Do you think we’re beginners at this trade? We’ve never had a snotty escape yet!”

  “Then make sure this is not the first time!”

  The two women glared at one another. Then Guardian Hope thrust the end of Goldie’s chain at Jangle and marched away without a backward glance.

  Double was yawning again. “Give Mince a shout,” she said. “Then put the brat down with the other snotties. I’m going back to bed.” She rubbed her forehead, as if it was hurting as much as her stomach.

  “Mince!” bellowed Jangle. Then he turned back to Double and said, “Don’t ya want to search ’er? Skint won’t like it if she gets away.”

  “Gets away?” The stripes on Double’s face writhed. “She’s a snotty! We’ve carried hundreds of snotties. Have any of them ever gotten away?”

  “But if she’s a famous escaper—”

  Double rolled her eyes.

  “—then we should search ’er.”

  “Oh, for Bald Thoke’s sake,” muttered Double. “All right! Bring her in here, where there’s a bit of light.”

  Goldie heard footsteps, and Mince came up behind her. “What’s goin’ on?”

  “A fine watch you kept,” said Double, glowering at him. “Look what got past you!”

  Mince peered at Goldie. “Nah. I woulda seen ’er. She musta snuck on board another way.”

  “Just as well for you,” said Jangle. “She’s a killer, she is. If ya’d tried to stop ’er she mighta broke yer neck with ’er little finger.” And both men roared with laughter.

  Double’s hands were surprisingly gentle. She sorted through Goldie’s pockets and found nothing except a dirty kerchief. She sighed again. Then she pulled Goldie’s jacket open and inspected the lining.

  The bluebird brooch was tucked inside the jacket collar. Double’s fingers stumbled across it. A muscle in her cheek twitched.

  “Bah!” she said, and with a jerk of her wrist she tore the brooch away from the cloth and held it up for the sailors to see. “A killer? An escaper? You brought me from my sickbed for this? Look at the trinkets she wears! This is just a stupid little girl playing at heroics!”

  “She could maybe use that to pick a lock . . . ,” mumbled Jangle, peering at the brooch.

  “And you could maybe use your brains for a change,” snarled Double. “We could have got good money for a proper escaper. Could’ve sold her to a criminal gang. But a girl like this?” She let out her breath in a huff of displeasure. “She’s a waste of space.”

  “She might ’ave somethin’ else on ’er,” said Jangle, but he no longer sounded sure of himself. “A knife or somethin’. Hidden more careful-like.”

  Double didn’t seem to hear him. “I suppose someone will buy her,” she muttered, absently dropping Goldie’s brooch into the pocket of her own coat and turning away. “Put her with the other snotties. I’m going to bed.”

  Mince dragged Goldie unceremoniously out of the cabin. But before he could shut the door, Double swung back around.

  “I thought we only carried snotties this trip.” She nodded at Goldie. “What are her parents doing on board?”

  “It was a trap,” said Jangle. “That Guardian set it up.”

  Double held her stomach as if her bellyache had suddenly grown worse. “You really got on the wrong side of her, girl. Bad luck for you and your parents. What’s your name?”

  Goldie had to fight to keep the despair out of her voice. “Golden Roth.”

  “And your parents? What are their names?”

  “Why d’ya want to know that, Double?” said Mince. He chortled. “Don’t matter what their names are. They ain’t got no names, not once they’re on board the Silver Lining.”

  Double raised her head and sniffed. “What’s that burning smell?”

  Both sailors stared at her.

  “Oooh,” said Double, mockingly. “It’s your brain, Mince, trying to think.”

  “I wasn’t tryin’ to think! I just wondered—”

  “Well, don’t! If there’s any wondering to be done around here, I’m the one who’ll do it.” She glared at both men until they looked away. Then she turned back to Goldie. “Names!” she snarled.

  Goldie swallowed. “Harken. And Grace.”

  Double’s face, beneath its tattoos, might have been a wall, it was so blank. Then she began to laugh. It was a terrible sound, as harsh as the clash of swords. “Well, it looks as if Harken, Grace and Golden Roth are going south for their holidays this year. What a lucky family! Make sure you tuck them in well tonight, Mince. We don’t want them complaining about the service, now, do we?”

  At that, Mince and Jangle laughed too, their disagreement forgotten. They were still chuc
kling as they herded Goldie back down the ladderways to the hold.

  “She’s a rum ’un, that Double,” said Jangle as he shackled Goldie into place between two sobbing five-year-olds. “I thought she was goin’ soft on us for a minute there.”

  “Double? Soft?” said Mince. “Nah, she’s all right. She’s clever, she is. Here, shut up, you!” And he kicked the girl on Goldie’s right until her sobbing became a terrified whimper.

  Goldie bit her lip so hard that she could taste blood. But she said nothing.

  “Ya reckon we should keep a watch on this one, like the Guardian told us?” Mince nodded at Goldie.

  “Nah, Double’s right, she’s not goin’ nowhere,” said Jangle. He tested Goldie’s chains, and those of the girls on either side of her. Then he and Mince sauntered off, laughing and chatting as if Goldie and the weeping children no longer existed.

  Great Wooden save us!

  Guardian Hope sat outside the banquet room, smoothing her brand-new black robes and enjoying the thought of Golden Roth in chains. Her only regret was that she had not been able to capture the Hahn children as well. She felt cheated, and wondered what she could do to make up for it.

  Perhaps, she thought, she would have Golden Roth whipped before she was taken south to the slave markets. Yes, why not? The brat deserved it, after all!

  She chuckled to herself and listened to the sounds coming through the banquet room door. It was clear that most of the Silver Lining’s crew had fallen asleep at the table. Their snores were punctuated by Old Lady Skint’s cackle as she described an attempted escape by some of her slaves, and the bloody outcome.

  Hope leaned back in her chair, sighing happily. The night wore on.

  At last, as the sun rose, she heard the scraping of chairs and the whack of a fleshy hand across a score of ears. “Wake up, ratbags,” bellowed Old Lady Skint. “Tide’ll be on the turn soon and we’re headin’ south in the barky.”

  “I thought you were staying another day, Skint,” said the Fugleman.

  “Nah, not me. Got important business elsewhere.”