Secrets of the Starcrossed

by Clara O'Connor

  As we finally came out of the dense buildings into a small park, I breathed deeply, pulling the somewhat cleaner air into lungs starved of oxygen after our trip through the sour aromas of the deep East End.

  A man loomed out of the shadow of a tree as we moved to cross the park. He leered over at us, taking in our finery, his eyes calculating risk versus reward.

  Marina hissed at him. He peered more closely, taking in her braids and tailored clothes, the silk wrapped around her throat that contrasted with her don’t-mess-with-me gimlet eyes and bared teeth as she dared him to come at us.

  Deciding we weren’t worth the trouble, he grunted and turned away.

  “Thanks.” I smiled down at my petite warrior except, with the departure of danger, my warrior didn’t look so fierce anymore as she crumpled to the ground.

  “Marina, Marina,” I sank to my knees beside her, my hand reaching for her forehead and finding not only that it was warm but that she was in a full sweat. This was not the time to have a relapse. We had none of the rough, illicit medicine with us that Devyn had managed to procure. We had decided not to risk carrying something that would identify her as ill.

  I swore. What in Hades was I going to do? I looked around. The street was quiet apart from the departing shape of our unfriendly recent chancer.

  “Marina, sweetie,” I urged. “Are you with me?”

  “Sorry…” Her small voice came even though she hadn’t yet managed to open her eyes. “I’m sorry. The way is longer than I remembered and I’m tired. I just need to lie down for a minute.”

  “You’ve got to get up. C’mon, up you come.” I put my arms under her shoulders and hoicked her up, feeling like the worst kind of bully. “We’ve got to keep going. Oban is waiting, remember.”

  At the reminder of her brother, Marina opened her eyes and determinedly put one foot in front of the other.

  “This way.”

  I was completely outside of my comfort zone; I had zero knowledge of this part of the city. I wasn’t even sure how close to the river we were. The original plan would have taken her to the old inner walls on the river. Plan B not so much.

  “How much further?”

  Marina paused in her slow steps.

  “Dunno. Maybe a mile.”

  A mile. She was never going to make it another mile in this condition.

  A hackney passed us, nearly silent as it swept by in a gleam of silver. I weighed my options. I could flag one down – I knew hackneys went back and forth between the city and the outer wall carrying citizens for both work and pleasure reasons. While I couldn’t claim I was out here for business, if challenged I could perhaps claim I was here for pleasure. Some of my friends occasionally visited the clubs by the wall. It wasn’t approved of but it wasn’t entirely unheard of either.

  I didn’t really see how I had any other option and as another carriage rolled towards us, I put my arm up to wave him down.

  Marina became fully alert as the hackney pulled up beside us. Her eyes were wide as every muscle in her body went taut.

  “Cassandra,” she said. “We aren’t supposed…”

  I shushed her as the driver opened the door and ushered Marina gently but firmly into the seat. Sitting back in the familiar comfort of the backseat, relief at the quick solution to what could have been a significant problem washed through me.

  Until I realised the driver was looking at me expectantly. I needed to give him a destination. I couldn’t give him the address of the wharf that we were headed for. If this journey were tracked I would be leading the authorities straight to Devyn and anyone else who had helped us.

  Marina looked at me and thankfully, comprehending my dilemma, offered a solution.

  “Rhodeswell Bridge, if you would, sir,” she clipped out in pristine plummy tones.

  I gulped to swallow the surprised giggle that bubbled up despite our dire circumstances.

  What seemed like mere moments later, the cab arrived at our destination. Pretending for all the world like I knew exactly what I was doing, I smiled coyly at the driver, ducking my head to look up at him shyly through my lashes. At least I hoped it was coy; I felt like an idiot.

  “Is there any chance I could pay extra to be dropped in the city?”

  The man looked at me blankly. “As you wish, donna. Where would you be off to?”

  I smiled again, a butter-wouldn’t-melt smile. “How about Spitalfields?”

  “Certainly, premium rates for that trip,” he returned, not the first time he’d had a citizen ask him to record a trip that did not end under the walls.

  “Of course,” I replied as coolly as I could muster. I tapped my chip against the scanner, somewhat horrified at the charge the blackguard had put on the screen.

  Out on the street again, I checked Marina to see how she was faring.

  “All good?” I asked softly.

  The small dark head nodded.

  “Impressive accent there, Donna Marina.”

  She gave the ghost of an impish grin.

  “Where to now?” I asked, taking Marina’s hand once more. I looked around. We were back in a busier part of town, neon lights of all colours welcoming punters into bars and clubs of all shapes and sizes. Lifting my gaze, I could see the wall looming behind. If my awareness of this part of town was correct, we were in Mile End, a long way from the river.

  Why on earth had Marina brought us here? Despite us completely breaking rule number two, we were no better off than we had been – rule number one being, don’t do anything stupid. Too late.

  Maybe I had broken rules one and two.

  Looking back down at the guide who had brought us so badly out of our way, I discovered a cocky grin waiting expectantly.

  “We can get a boat on the canal. They’ll take payment other than credits,” Marina offered before continuing with clear relish, “but if you’re ever asked, the worst you’ve done is sneak to a party in the district with your mates.”

  I grinned back at her despite myself. No one could ever accuse Marina of lacking street smarts. Upping my own game, I pulled out some of the small coins Devyn had given me that were used as currency by those who traded in something more tangible than credits. Two well-dressed young girls might just about walk the streets attracting a minimum of notice. Casual onlookers would suppose we were taking a short trip between some merchants and our waiting cab. The same two girls on a working barge were likely to be a lot more noticeable. Given the area we were in, it was a matter of moments before we came across a shop selling hooded cloaks to wrap ourselves in. This part of town could be relied upon to help cover up any indiscretion a citizen might wish to commit – it was merely good business.

  We retraced our steps and just beyond the bridge took the steps that led down to the canal and made our way to a lock. True to Marina’s suggestion, it wasn’t long before we convinced one of the bargemen to earn a couple of extra coins by taking us downstream.

  Streetlights were starting to go on as we jumped off the barge at the last lock before the canal joined the river. Back in more familiar territory – I had loved to visit the docks with my father when I was a child, not to mention repeated trips to watch the patrols more recently with Devyn – we quickly made our way to XVII wharf and with slightly less ease found the door to the warehouse to which Devyn had directed us.

  My quick tap on the door was answered almost immediately by a woman who hugged the shadows, ensuring we couldn’t get a good look at her face before she beckoned us in.

  Once inside, she turned without further exchange and began to lead us through the poorly lit passageway and out into the central storerooms, which were full to the brim with goods. The huge stacked crates had always intrigued me as a child. From the outside they were so plain and uniform but inside lay treasures from across the globe: silk from China, spices from India, carpets from Persia, paper from Egypt, coffee from Columbia. Delicacies from exotic places I had only ever seen in digital form. Places I was unlikely ever to be able to ven
ture to given how dangerous sea travel was. A classmate in college had grown up in the Caribbean, enthralling everyone with tales of sugar plantations, endless blue skies, and balmy turquoise waters that one could swim in since the islands tended to be held in their entirety by either citizens or Wilders in that part of the world with walled towns to retreat to in times of unrest.

  Marina’s stumble brought me back to the present; she was tiring again.

  “Not much further,” I whispered encouragingly, earning a glare from our silent hostess.

  I wrapped my arm around Marina to provide more support as we hurried through the gloomy warehouse. After weaving through interminable lanes created by the stacked crates, the woman came to a stop and, pushing a single container aside, revealed a trapdoor in the floor.

  With some effort, she raised it and, handing us a light, ushered us down the dank steps, pointing into the dark.

  “River.” With that one word, she started to lower the trapdoor, sealing us into the tunnel. She paused briefly before the door hit the stones with a bang.

  “Good luck.”

  We made our way to the bottom of the stairs, or at least where the stairs met water.

  I raised the light in a weak attempt to see where we were going. Nothing but light reflected on the black water so there was no way of telling how deep it was or, more to the point, what was in it. I shuddered. I didn’t want to begin to imagine.

  I stepped gingerly down and then again, and again. Tapping about, I realised we were at the bottom of the steps. Thankfully it appeared the lightly moving water was only shin deep.

  “Marina, it’s okay, no more stairs. Are you feeling all right, sweetie?” I spoke quietly. There was no fear of being overheard down here, but it felt wrong to talk at a normal pitch.

  Marina’s response was mumbled which not a good sign. I decided against asking her to repeat herself, figuring she probably had enough on her plate just staying upright on the slimy surface of the tunnel floor. We sloshed through the tunnel which took us under the warehouses and out to the bank of the river.

  Finally, we turned a corner to be greeted by an orange evening light dancing over the river. Devyn had said he would be here by the time the sun hit the horizon but looking out at the river it was difficult to tell whether the sun had fully set yet or not. It had certainly left a spectacular sky on its way down though. I moved us further back so we wouldn’t be visible to any passing boats, the river still bustling with empty barges and other vessels heading back down to the docks after delivering their last loads of the evening to the warehouses.

  As the minutes slipped by, Marina was clearly losing the strength to stand, and, believing Devyn would be here soon enough, I decided that sitting in the water was the lesser of two evils, rather than standing until Marina collapsed.

  Marina huddled against me in the darkness of the tunnel. Shivering with fever, she was starting to lose consciousness. Where was Devyn? If he didn’t come soon, we were in serious trouble. The low tide was turning. When it entered the tunnel in which we were hiding, we would be below the surface of the water. There was no way I would be able to carry Marina far on my own, but if I didn’t make a decision soon we would be swimming, and that was going to attract attention. A lot of attention.

  I peered out into the waning light, rubbing Marina’s arm in a vain effort to warm and comfort her. Or maybe it just reminded me that I wasn’t alone.

  The cold was starting to seep into my bones. Warm for spring though it was, we had been here over an hour. I rested my head back against the slimy walls, tired from crouching forward in the curved dankness.

  Listening carefully over the sound of our shivering, I thought I detected a change in the sound of the water lapping against the edge of the embankment.

  “Cass.” The call came softly and it lifted my heart in joyous relief.

  “Marina.” I shook the little girl to rouse her. “He’s here, Devyn’s here.”

  She barely responded.

  ‘No, no, no.” We were so close to getting Marina the help she needed. I couldn’t lose her now.

  “Devyn,” I called, my voice low but urgent.

  No response.

  What was I supposed to do?

  The water had started seeping back into the tunnel and I couldn’t leave Marina unsupported. She would sink unresisting into the murky water if I did.

  I couldn’t do that.

  I wouldn’t.

  Chapter Nine

  The fiery colours of the setting sun glinted off the icy water, lighting our path to the river while behind us the dark was closing in. The distance between us and the tunnel entrance wasn’t huge – surely I could carry Marina that far? I pushed off the wall and stood with the girl in front of me then, bending down, I put one arm around her neck and another under her knees. I had her, I could do this. I adjusted my grip slightly and took a tentative step forward. One down, twenty or so to go.

  Making progress through the sloshing water was not easy. Each step was tentative as I couldn’t see what I was stepping on and couldn’t afford to lose my balance with the unmoving Marina in my arms.

  Was she still breathing? I paused to check, listening in the twilight for a sign that the body in my arms still supported life.

  “Come on, Marina,” I urged. “Please be okay. Your brother is waiting. He’s got help for you.”

  My arms were tiring. Why hadn’t Devyn called again? Had I imagined that first call? Maybe he wasn’t there at all and I was going to arrive at the top of the tunnel to nothing more than the swirling eddy of the incoming tide. I had to get us both out of here one way or another, and if Devyn wasn’t waiting, I would figure out my next move then.

  Hopefully, it wouldn’t end with me in whatever dungeon they threw traitorous fools into. My mother would be mortified by the scandal. Though what crime had I committed? Trying to help a minor leave the city undetected… I shook my head. Yeah, I’d be able to explain that away, no problem. I mocked my optimism. I wouldn’t even be able to explain why Marina needed to get out of the city. That we had met when I rebelliously went to Oban to design a dress, sure, so far the story made sense. Her illness, why it needed to be hidden from the authorities… well, I couldn’t answer these questions even if I wanted to, I realised belatedly. I had surface knowledge, but nothing solid.

  Maybe that was the answer. I could claim ignorance, that I didn’t know the child, I’d merely seen her fall into the river and had jumped in to save her. That might work.

  Each step continued to bring us closer to the end of the tunnel while my mind worried over solutions to problems I could barely believe I had.

  I peered out into the gloom. Darkness had fallen and the lightest sliver of new moon was all that illuminated the river.

  “Devyn,” I called again. My arms were incredibly tired and I slumped against the wall. I couldn’t hold Marina much longer.

  The river flowed past, heavy and dark on its interminable journey out of Londinium. A seagull flew upstream, its wings spread wide, its belly mere inches from the water and I could feel the joy of its glide, its sheer effortlessness. I tilted to the right as if angling to catch the current of the wind better and the gull’s wing dipped to catch that same current. My breath caught…

  “Shhh. Cass, keep your voice down.” The words were practically whispered into my ear. Startled, I lost my grip and Marina started to slide out of my hands.

  “Easy,” Devyn hissed as he reached up out of the small boat that he had manoeuvred, unseen, beneath us.

  The tide knocked the boat against the wall as he took my precious cargo out of my arms and laid Marina gently in the boat before turning to offer me a hand down.

  My less-than-elegant arrival into the boat set it rocking as I practically fell into Devyn’s arms.

  “Whoa.” Before I could get comfortable or even right my balance he had pushed me off and into a seat at the prow of the boat.

  “Is she all right?” He nodded at Marina’s prone form
at my feet, his brow furrowed, his hand reaching down and registering the fever that had taken hold since he saw her just a few hours ago.

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I couldn’t wake her up.”

  I moved to sit on the floor of the boat, but Devyn’s hand restrained me. He shook his head.

  “Cass, the only reason you’re here is so that I visibly have a paying customer in the boat, not to nurse the child.”

  “What’s the point of any of it if she doesn’t make it?”

  His eyes glittered. “I’m taking more risk than I should having you in this boat at all. If you can’t do your part then you can get out now. Marina won’t be saved because you’re brushing her hair back from her face.” He pointed to the seat I had abandoned. “What hope she has requires you to look like an elite princess visiting her father at his warehouse so I don’t get stopped for having a hackney this far out of town. Now sit.”

  He pulled a tarpaulin over Marina after making sure she was as comfortable as he could possibly make her, given the raging fever and wet clothes and the fact we were trying to elude the sentinels and escape the city for who knew what destination out there beyond the walls.

  Settling himself into the boatman’s spot at the base of the boat, Devyn triggered the engine and brought us around until we were headed downstream in the non-commercial channel.

  Sitting upright in the passenger seat, I turned my head enough to allow my low words to drift back to Devyn.

  “Oban? He made it out?”

  “Yes. They barely glanced at his papers.”

  “Then what took you so long?”

  A humph. I turned to take in his expression, unsurprised at the look of exasperation I found there.

  “I had a fare.”

  “What?” I wasn’t sure I understood. “What do you mean you had a fare?”