by Vashti Hardy
“How many people does it hold?”
“It’s meant for one or two, three at a squeeze.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
They climbed inside. Maudie took the front with the small steering wheel and panel of switches and levers, and Arthur sat behind her.
“The fabric-covered area at the back is for storage, but you could fit a third person there, perhaps.”
To the enormous cheers of the crew, Maudie started the engine. It had a muted, almost soundless chug like a heartbeat, similar to the Aurora but softer. The balloon inflated, Maudie pulled a lever to extend the wings and in a moment they lifted, just the height of a person, but Arthur whooped and Maudie laughed, and they were off. The sky-ak sped forward, rose for a while, then dipped back to the water, then up it went again, something like a pebble skimming in slow motion across the surface.
“This is brilliant, Maud! Brilliant!” was all he could say as they made their way in a circuit around the lake, before returning to the Aurora to more applause and cries of, “Can I have a go?” and “Me next!”
They continued riding in the sky-ak into dusk, until it was too dark to see, and they were all forced back to the sky-ship for bed.
Over the coming days they finished searching Mysa, then made a direct route for Nova, stopping at the few small islands along the way, which were sparsely inhabited. Although each drew blanks as to the current whereabouts of Wrigglesworth, some people did recognize his picture, and there were reports that he had been heading towards Nova as little as six moons ago.
The weather became even hotter, which Arthur hadn’t thought possible, but it was thankfully dispersed with some very sudden and short bursts of warm, refreshing rain that made everyone dance on deck for joy and open their parched mouths to the sky.
With Welby occupied plotting the course to Nova, navigation lessons had been put on hold for the time being. Arthur was getting to spend more time at the wheel, with Harriet never far away to supervise and guide. Even during the rain showers, Arthur loved it.
On one of those rainy days, Maudie was tinkering with the weather canopy. “Are you sure you don’t want the canopy up?” she asked Arthur.
“Maud, it’s barely raining.” He didn’t want to feel a barrier between himself and the sky; there was a feeling of oneness when he held the wheel, of being in control yet part of something bigger.
She sighed and carried on adjusting a chain.
Arthur turned to Harriet, who was sitting on the deck beside him writing in her journal. It was protected from the rain by a small book shelter that Maudie had made. “How long until we reach Nova?”
“If the wind stays fair, then tomorrow. Although it’s difficult to know how accurate our calculations are with such sparsely explored territory.”
“It’s strange, don’t you think?”
Harriet frowned at him.
“That Eudora assigned us the furthest island. I know it was probably to get rid of us, but everything points to the fact that it actually is the most likely place to find Ermitage Wrigglesworth.”
Harriet nodded. “The thought has crossed my mind a number of times during our journey.”
“It could just be because of the pitch issue,” Maudie suggested. “Supplies are much more uncertain out here and she knows we have the water engine.”
“That’s what I’ve been thinking,” said Harriet. “Although, something about it still unsettles me a little.”
Welby approached and handed some charts to Harriet, then went with Maudie to carry out routine checks on the balloon. Arthur had spent time in the library reading through the chapters and continuing his search on the Votary of Four. But he’d found nothing. He looked dreamily to the west where the clouds petered out, and peach-rose blended into violet and cerulean as the sun bowed out of the day. He imagined the four triangles floating in the air before him.
“Hey, day-dreamer, you’re veering off course,” said Harriet, gently putting her hand up to adjust the wheel by a few degrees, then continuing with her writing.
“Oh, sorry.” Arthur realized suddenly that amid all the drama of the mangroves and excitement of the sky-ak, he’d forgotten to ask Harriet if she knew anything more about the Votary of Four which he’d read about in the old Lontown Chronicle. She had mentioned that she thought the triangles were some sort of club, after all.
“Harriet, have you ever heard of the Votary of Four?”
She looked up from the notes.
“It was something I saw in one of Welby’s old Lontown Chronicles. There was an article about Octavie, Ermitage and Eleana having the highest marks in the year and it mentioned they were all part of a club called the Votary of Four. Only, I can’t find any mention of it anywhere in the library.”
Harriet put her pencil down. “Yes, I remember you asking. What makes you especially curious about it?”
“The symbols on Octavie’s arm were also in the journal that Smethwyck stole from Wrigglesworth, remember? They had the word Erythea written beside them. That word was scratched into the desk on Mangrove Island too.”
She thought for a moment. “And you think this is somehow all relevant to Wrigglesworth’s disappearance?”
He shrugged. “I just have a feeling about it.”
“The Votary of Four… As far as I know, it was just a silly club, more a game between young explorers. Octavie told me as much herself. One night they came up with an idea that became a bet. They decided, based on historical myths, that a fourth continent could exist, and they each bet the others that they would be the first to find it.”
“A fourth continent?” Arthur said in disbelief. “How could a whole continent exist without anyone knowing about it?”
“Exactly. Here, I’ll take the wheel and you go to my study. Somewhere on the shelf there is a book called Dispelling the Myths. Go and fetch it.”
Arthur hurried below and scanned the shelf in Harriet’s study, then pulled a slim, brown leather book from between two much more ample-looking volumes. On the cover it read, Dispelling the Myths of the Wide. He rushed back on deck with it.
Harriet flicked open the pages. “Ah, here you are.” She pointed at a page with the four symbols on.
“That’s their tattoos!” Arthur said excitedly. He read the descriptions. “The triangle pointing upwards with a horizontal line through it represents air, which some of the elite of Lontown colloquially refer to as the First Continent but whose proper name is Vornatania. The triangle pointing downwards with a line horizontally through the bottom represents earth and is Nadvaaryn. The triangle pointing downwards is water, the Ice Continent, and finally the triangle pointing upwards represents fire and was created as the symbol of the final lost continent.”
“They used fire for the fourth symbol, as they believed the location would be close to the equator.”
“But Octavie must have believed it, if she was part of the club?”
“She did, for several years, and they tried hard to find it, but as you will see, if you read the book, there is emphatic geographical and reported evidence that it can’t exist. The others in the club were furious with her for publishing the truth. They said it made them look like failures.”
“Octavie wrote this book?”
Harriet nodded and turned to the title page where Octavie’s name was detailed in small gold writing.
“So that’s why she and Wigglesworth fell out? She told me she hadn’t spoken to him in years.”
Harriet shrugged. “I guess they never managed to reconcile.”
“Maybe Wigglesworth couldn’t let go of the idea.”
“Do you know, I’m convinced we will find him on this last island, Arthur. I can feel it somehow.”
“May I take the book?”
She nodded. “Of course. Now go below deck for some rest; we should arrive in Nova by morning.”
CHAPTER 11
THE ISLAND AT THE END OF THE WIDE
The wind turned against them and it took lo
nger to reach Nova than anticipated. But by the time they’d set the Aurora down on the powdery, moon-bright sand, they were all in agreement that the island was by far the most beautiful they had visited. It was late afternoon, and the sky was a cloudless azure blue, and the palm trees and gently lapping waves of a crystal-clear sea made them all feel that they’d flown into a painting. They’d spied some houses on the central hilly area, but it was easier to set down on the beach and trek their way inland. As the sun was low in the sky and they were all hungry, Harriet said they would wait until the morning to seek out the locals.
Maudie and Arthur lowered the sky-ak to explore the bay a little, and Felicity insisted she squeeze inside with them to go fishing. They managed to catch a large yellow-tail snapper, which Felicity cooked on the beach.
As the crew chatted about the island, they almost managed to convince themselves that they would surely find Ermitage Wrigglesworth relaxing on a beach and could report back to Lontown that all was well.
Except for Arthur, that was. That night he lay awake thinking about the four symbols and the Votary, and that word Erythea. He’d seen it in the journal on the Victorious, scratched into the table in the mangrove hut, and clearly written by the symbol of the mythical fourth continent. The question burned his brain: What if this fourth continent is real and its name is Erythea?
He lit a candle and opened Octavie’s book about myths. One chapter was titled The Votary of Four. It listed all the families who had tried and failed to get beyond the last of the “Eastern Isles”. Each returned saying there was nothing but sea until they found themselves out of fuel. Many died trying. Some talked about an impenetrable bank of sea mist, but so many had tried and so many had come back empty-handed, that the evidence was indeed conclusive. There was nothing there. Arthur looked at the fire-bird ring. It was linked, he was sure. He turned it over in his fingers as he thought, then noticed something different about the bird on the back. Squinting, he held it to the light. It was different; he’d just assumed it was the same. As he looked more closely, he realized it had wings, but it wasn’t a bird. He leapt out of bed and went to the library where they kept the journal from the mangrove hut. He opened it to the page with the drawings of the ominous-looking, bat-like creature and the word “darkwhispers”. They looked remarkably similar.
There was more to all of this, he was certain, and tomorrow when they went to the village, he was going to find answers to his many questions.
Maudie popped her head around the door, her face sun-tanned and her hair loose and wavy. “What are you up to?” she asked.
He was about to blurt out all the news, but he found himself saying, “Just looking for more information on Nova.”
He wasn’t sure why; he usually shared everything with Maudie. But she’d been getting so much praise and attention for the sky-ak that he just felt he wanted to keep this to himself.
For now.
The crew gathered on deck early the next morning, ready to head to the village, but to their surprise they were greeted by two unexpected sights. The first was that the Victorious had been spotted by Harriet in the far distance, several hours away.
“I wonder how they’re doing with their fuel supplies. They must have found a good supply on Sol south-west of here.”
Welby nodded. It was rumoured there may be a source of pitch there.
The second unexpected sight was a smiling villager who had come to meet them on the beach. He wore cropped green trousers and an olive-coloured, loose shirt. His hair was dark brown and wavy. He had a relaxed, easy walk and deeply sun-tanned skin. As he approached, his hands were outstretched, and he said in clipped Lontonian:
“Welcome to Nova, or as some call us, the Island at the End of the Wide. My name is Gallus. Have you come seeking Ermitage?”
“Is he here?” Harriet asked, surprised.
Gallus nodded. “I’ll take you to him.”
They all looked between each other. He really was here.
“I can’t believe it!” said Maudie, following Harriet down the gangplank. “He’s here, after all this trouble and a whole armada searching far and wide for him!”
Arthur couldn’t wait to meet him. Whatever the reason for him hiding away here and not going back to Lontown, there was plenty to ask him about the Votary and the fire-bird ring.
They walked a long but well-trodden path past palm trees and up a steep slope towards a small village. The houses here were different to the others Arthur had seen on the journey; they were more decorative, with pretty arched windows and steps with banisters carved to look like ivy.
“May we offer you refreshments?” asked Gallus.
“Thank you. But if you could show us to Wigglesworth first, we would much appreciate it.” They were all thirsty after the trek, but Arthur knew that Harriet was thinking that the Victorious would be here soon and she wanted to be the first to question him.
Gallus nodded and they carried on past the hut and further up the hill a little way.
“Perhaps he’s sunning himself up here,” Maudie said, and Arthur would’ve laughed if at that moment he hadn’t seen something that felt like being hit in the face by a cold bucket of ice.
On the top of the hill was a grave.
The crew fell silent. The grave was marked by a wooden post which read:
ERMITAGE WRIGGLESWORTH EXPLORER FROM VORNATANIA, WHO LOST HIS LIFE IN THE EASTERN SEAS.
It was as though someone had pierced the sky and deflated the atmosphere.
For a moment, Arthur was back in the frozen forests of the Ice Continent, seeing the graves they’d found there, and the memories of Dad rushed him again. He grabbed Maudie’s hand and squeezed because he knew she’d be feeling it too.
Felicity was the first to talk. “Well, that’s that, then.” She tucked her lucky spoon back in her apron.
“That’s that, then,” agreed Dr Quirke.
They slumped on the edge of the hill, Harriet beside Gallus. “What happened?” she asked him.
“We recovered his crashed sky-ship in our boats. Like many in the past, he had been deluded about going even further east. There is nothing out there. Just water and death. Many have searched; all have failed. I’m sorry it wasn’t the answer you were hoping for. We’ve seen many come and try – all fail. We warn them not to, to be content in what they have and know, but… Well, as you know, the people of Lontown are rarely satisfied with no.”
Arthur thought that was a bit cutting, but also true.
“We marked his grave in your language, as we thought it fitting.”
“What now?” Felicity said.
Harriet stood up and brushed her hands on her trousers. “There’s no point delaying and having fellow explorers wasting time and effort when we know the outcome. Welby, when we’re back at the Aurora, would you send word by messenger pigeon to the other sky-ships that they should return to Lontown?”
Welby nodded.
“We’ll rest here for today, then head for home tomorrow. If that is acceptable with you, Gallus?”
Arthur detected a hesitancy before Gallus bowed his head in agreement. But as he did so, Arthur caught sight of a glint of gold around his neck: a ring on a chain. A ring that, in that brief moment Arthur glimpsed it, looked extraordinarily like Octavie’s ring! It disappeared back behind his smock.
“It is our way to celebrate the life of those lost,” said Gallus, standing up. “Will you join us tonight to celebrate?”
“We would be honoured,” said Harriet.
“Our village is yours. You are welcome to explore it today, of course.”
“Thank you, but we’ll probably head back for now and take stock of our supplies. Perhaps we may do some trade with you before we return?”
“We don’t have pitch here, I’m afraid.”
“Oh no, our sky-ship doesn’t use pitch.”
Gallus looked taken aback.
“Also, one of our … comrade ships is on its way.”
He nodded.
> They made their way back down the path to the village.
Noticing that a man was staring at them through one of the decorative screens covering the windows, Arthur stopped and looked back, and the man ducked.
“Arthur, stop being so nosy,” hissed Maudie.
“He was staring at me.”
“But it’s their island. We’re the strangers, so they’re allowed to.”
He squinted.
“What’s wrong?”
“There’s someone watching us over there, too, behind the tree.”
She looked around, but the person had disappeared.
“You’re imagining it. Let’s get a drink and go back to the sky-ship.”
They accepted a refreshing glass of water with lime and some pineapple, then started down the path. Arthur lingered at the rear, and when they were a little way down, he ducked into the forest and pulled Maudie along with him.
“What are you doing?” Maudie said in an urgent whisper. He put his finger to his lips. “I’m going back to look around. Are you coming?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, I’m going to enjoy the fact that the mystery is over with a trip in the sky-ak before that beastly woman arrives.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugged.
Maudie hurried after the others and Arthur dashed through the palms to the back side of the houses. Staying low, he crept to one of the windows and, after listening for a while to make sure there was no one there, he peered inside. There was a strange animal in a wooden cage. It looked rather like a small bear but clung on to the bars with what appeared to be webbed toes. Arthur ducked as the door opened, then peeked again. The man let the bear out of the cage and said something in a different language which sounded apologetic. He stroked it kindly on the head. Something flickered on the bear’s neck, something that reminded Arthur an awful lot of fish gills. The man carried on talking to the creature, and then Arthur picked out a word that made his eyes widen like dinner plates – Erythea.