by Emily Rodda
‘Collin told them that he’d been making the sounds that had scared them in the night ... terrible nightmares ... crew agreed to come back for us ...’
‘Will Britta of Del be ...?’
‘Sshh ... deep shock ... sorcery, perhaps.’
‘And Trader Mab? Is she ...?’
‘Sshh!’
When Britta next stirred, her head and shoulders were propped up on two pillows and a sheet was drawn neatly up to her chin. A faint smell of herbs hung in the air. She could hear soft footsteps and the tiny, familiar creaks of a ship at sea.
Of course! She was no longer in the landing boat, but on the Star of Deltora. Thanks to Collin and Vorn, who had caused her so much trouble on Illica, the Star had come back to her.
A glorious feeling of safety and peace stole through Britta’s body, from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. She lay quite still, listening to the comforting sounds of her ship, not wanting the moment to end. But then she heard the footsteps again, and curiosity made her open her eyes.
She found that she was not in her own cabin, but in a far larger space filled with that golden dimness created by strong sunlight filtering through thin curtains. Her silk blouse and red skirt hung from a hook on the back of the door. She looked down and saw that she was wearing one of her patched nightdresses. Someone must have undressed her and put her to bed.
And whoever it was must have felt the goozli in her skirt pocket—perhaps looked to see what it was, and wondered why in the nine seas she was carrying a little clay doll about with her. Britta felt a surge of panic, and with the panic came another thought. She raised her hand to the top of her head and felt for the odi shell clip that the goozli had put in her hair the night before the mutiny. It was not there.
‘Well, well,’ a voice said briskly. ‘So you have decided to join the land of the living, my dear!’
Someone appeared beside the bed and warm fingers were pressed to Britta’s wrist. Britta turned her head slightly on the pillows and saw the blunt, pleasant face of Healer Kay. She also saw a little bedside shelf, fixed to the wall. On the shelf, beside a beaker of water, were her comb, notebook, pencil and folded handkerchief. Also the string of false sunrise pearls. Her skirt pockets had been emptied, then. But where was the goozli?
A memory flickered at the edge of Britta’s mind, but she could not catch hold of it. It was something about the goozli. Something ...
‘Your pulse is a little rapid, but I suppose we cannot have everything,’ said Kay after a moment.
Britta’s head felt full of fog. ‘Kay,’ she croaked. ‘In my skirt pocket, did you find ...?’
‘Do not worry yourself, my dear. All your things are on the shelf here, quite safe. Was there something in particular you wanted?’
‘No,’ Britta said quickly. ‘I mean—yes! A—a hair clip, Kay. Blue. I was wearing it when ...’
‘Yes, so you were.’ Kay’s face puckered in concern. ‘I remember noticing it in the landing boat. But there was nothing in your hair when I put you to bed, Britta. The clip must have fallen out and been lost. What a pity.’
‘Yes,’ Britta murmured. She felt hollow inside, but what else was there to say?
‘It is nowhere in this cabin, I am sure,’ Kay said. ‘If it was, I would surely have found it after all this time.’
All this time ...?
Britta licked her lips and found they were dry and cracked. ‘How long ...?’ she managed to ask.
‘It has been just over two weeks since you were carried in here, more dead than alive,’ Kay answered calmly.
‘Two weeks!’ Britta stared, wide-eyed.
‘You are on the sofa in Mab’s cabin for now,’ Kay went on. ‘It was easier for me to have both my patients in the same place, you see.’
She glanced over her shoulder. Following her eyes, Britta saw a wide bunk fixed to the opposite wall. Against the white pillows she could make out the shape of Mab’s beaky nose and a thin, trailing plait of faded red hair.
‘I hope you do not mind too much,’ Kay added, a little awkwardly. ‘It is not as if you will have to speak to Mab. She sleeps most of the time, and even when she stirs she is not up to talking.’
Britta was not sure how to reply, so she said nothing. Surely Mab would be the one to object to sharing a cabin with her, not the other way round.
Kay rubbed her nose violently. ‘Yes, well, enough of that! We have other things to discuss, my dear. You have been very ill, you know, and I must say that your recovery so far is nothing short of a miracle. I doubt it had anything to do with me—I have been working in the dark as far as your treatment is concerned. Now, I do not want to distress you, but it would help me a great deal if you could tell me what happened to you after you left us on the island.’
Britta stared at her, puzzled. Surely Healer Kay already knew what had happened—as much as anyone knew, at least, except Sky and Jewel. Why did she want to hear the whole sad tale again?
‘Jewel and I went to a bathhouse,’ she said after a moment. ‘I traded for the red skirt. Later I went to Scollbow Tower, and Collin—’
‘Not Illica, my dear,’ Kay broke in, a crease appearing between her eyebrows. ‘Tier! Tier—the Hungry Isle.’
‘Tier?’ The fog swirled in Britta’s mind. ‘I—do not know what you mean. We were in Illica. We set sail for home. The turtles came. There was a mutiny. We were put into the landing boat ...’ Her eyelids drooped. She struggled to keep them open.
‘Never mind,’ Kay said quickly. ‘You are on the mend now, and that is all that matters.’ Briefly she rested the back of her hand on Britta’s forehead.
‘You do know we are aboard the Star of Deltora, Britta?’ she asked, in a casual voice.
‘Of course,’ Britta mumbled fretfully. It seemed to her that Kay was being very stupid all of a sudden.
‘Then you know you are quite safe, and all is well,’ said Kay, making a great business of tweaking the bedclothes straight. ‘The mark on your forehead has faded at last, too, which is another good thing. Now, before you go back to sleep I want you to eat a little soup. I have it here, keeping warm. Just rest quietly while I fetch it.’
Rest quietly? Britta almost smiled. What else could she do but rest? She felt as weak as a newborn kitten. She had plainly been very ill, as Kay had said. But what was the matter with her? And why had Kay talked of the Hungry Isle as if ...?’
Kay reappeared at the bedside with a small bowl and a spoon. She pulled up a chair and sat down.
‘Kay,’ Britta began, ‘please tell me—’
Before she could go on, her mouth had been filled with lentil soup.
‘No more talking for you now, my girl,’ Kay said firmly. ‘For the next few days you are to pretend you are a goat in a field and do nothing but eat and sleep. After that—we shall see.’
When Britta woke next, something warm and heavy was pressed against her feet, and she could hear a rumbling sound like the wheels of a cart rolling over hard ground. Cautiously she opened her eyes. It was night. The rumbling sound was coming from a dark, furry lump at the end of her bed. Someone was sitting in a chair beside her, too—someone whose broad shoulders and shaved head were silhouetted in the soft light of an oil lamp burning somewhere near.
‘Jewel,’ Britta whispered. ‘What are you doing here?’
Jewel tensed, then turned quickly towards her. ‘Davvie has toothache, and Kay has gone to see what she can do for him,’ she whispered back. ‘I am to fetch her if she is needed. How are you feeling?’
‘Better—better than before, in any case. Is that Black Jack on the end of my bed?’
Jewel nodded. ‘Kay brought him in—she says she has heard a mouse scuttling round in here.’
A mouse? Britta thought of the goozli, and her heart gave a little leap of hope.
‘If there is a mouse, it is perfectly safe,’ Jewel went on. ‘That lazy cat has done nothing so far but make himself comfortable on your bed and drive me mad with his infernal purring.
Still, better he purrs than—’
She broke off, clearing her throat noisily. Britta eyed her curiously, wondering what was the matter with her.
There was a short, awkward silence. On the other side of the cabin, Mab made a small, snoring sound, mumbled, and then was still.
‘Jewel—’ Britta began.
‘Sky sends greetings,’ Jewel said rapidly, at the same moment. ‘And by the way, do you remember his telling us that he was sure Collin and Vorn were safe? Well, of course he was sure, the wretch! He had just discovered them hiding in the cargo hold! Whatever he promised them, can you believe he did not tell us?’
She took a breath and hurried on. ‘It seems they hid the boat they stole on the blind side of the island, to leave a false trail, then came back and crept aboard the Star. They are married now—Hara performed the ceremony—ship’s captains can do that at sea, of course. Collin is mad to see you. He and Vorn want to thank you, he says.’
‘From what I have heard, I should be thanking them,’ Britta said. ‘Did they really manage to drug Crow, Bolt and the others?’
Jewel leaned forward, for the first time looking more like her normal self. ‘They did,’ she whispered, her eyes sparkling. ‘And you will never guess what they used to do it!’
Britta shrugged. ‘Kay’s supplies—’
Jewel shook her head. ‘Bolt had taken over Kay’s cabin, so they did not dare go there. No—they found the sleeping potion in another cabin—Vashti’s!’
She grinned at the expression on Britta’s face. ‘They were searching for weapons, of course, but then they found this little bottle hidden away among some petticoats, and Vorn knew what it was, by its smell. The bottle was not quite full, but there was still enough of the mixture left to put Crow and his louts out of action for a good long time. It is powerful stuff, Vorn says.’
‘Very powerful, in my experience,’ Britta said dryly.
‘Yes, there is no longer any mystery about who drugged your water in Two Moons, little nodnap,’ Jewel agreed. ‘Vashti denies it, of course, but she looked so guilty when Vorn gave the bottle back to her that Sky and I are sure she was the culprit. We will never be able to prove it, but at least we know.’
‘Yes, that is one mystery solved, at least.’ Britta tried to smile.
‘And here is another,’ Jewel went on. ‘Collin did take that sunrise pearl from Scollbow Tower. When I told him that you had been accused of stealing it, he was very shocked. That is the other reason he wants to see you. But Kay insists you are to be kept quiet.’
She looked at Britta with sudden attention, and grimaced. ‘And by the serpent’s tongue, Kay would skin me alive if she saw your face now! I have tired you by talking too much.’
‘No!’ Britta stretched out her hand impulsively. ‘It is so good to see you, Jewel! And I need to talk. I have so many questions ...’ She paused, feeling strangely embarrassed, then gathered up her courage and plunged on. ‘There seem to be things I cannot remember. You must tell me—’
‘I am not supposed to talk to you about all that,’ Jewel broke in, shaking her head. ‘Kay gave me strict orders—’
‘Please!’ Britta begged. ‘I must know. Did I dream it, or did Kay say we landed on—on the Hungry Isle?’
Jewel made a small, helpless sound. ‘So you really remember nothing at all, Britta?’ she muttered. ‘About the cavern, and the Staff of Tier? About—your father?’
Britta’s head began to swim. The bed seemed to be quaking beneath her. She gripped the sheet with both hands as if to hold herself still. Pictures were flashing before her eyes. A black beach dotted with turtles. A cavern mouth filled with starry mist. Mab screaming, crumpling to the ground ...
Jewel was whispering urgently but Britta could not answer. Her teeth were chattering. She could not make them stop. She heard a muttered curse. She heard the chair clatter as Jewel jumped up and ran.
Then she heard a tiny click from somewhere beside her head, and the next moment something was scuttling across the sheet, onto her straining hands. Britta blinked at it, a strangled cry dying in her throat. The terrifying pictures faded.
Balanced on her knuckles, its mouth curved into a worried little smile, was the goozli.
13 - Questions and Answers
Black Jack raised his head. He stared at the goozli with sleepy golden eyes, then yawned and settled down again. ‘I thought I had lost you, goozli,’ Britta whispered. The goozli bounced on her hands and shook its head reproachfully.
‘Yes, I should have known you would not let yourself be left behind,’ Britta said. ‘And of course you could not show yourself to me while Kay was—’
She broke off as the goozli cocked its head and put its finger to its lips. An instant later she heard hurrying footsteps and Kay’s scolding mutter, growing louder.
The goozli darted to the side of the sofa, swung itself under the shelf jutting from the wall there, and vanished. Britta heard another little click. And suddenly she was remembering the model of the Star of Deltora in Captain Gripp’s cottage. Suddenly she was a child again, kneeling beside the model, playing one of her games. She was hiding a tiny, rolled-up ‘treasure map’ in what she called ‘the secret safe’, a small cavity in the wall below a shelf in the chief trader’s cabin.
Gripp had told her that the safe was a secret. Dare Larsett had made it himself, and no one else but Gripp and Britta knew of it. When its door flap was shut it looked just like part of the wall, and who would think to look under an awkward shelf beside a sofa anyway? Perhaps even Mab did not know it was there. The goozli had found the perfect hiding place.
There was no time to think any more. Kay was hurrying through the doorway with Jewel behind her.
‘I am all right,’ Britta protested, as Kay took her pulse, looking searchingly into her face. ‘Truly, Kay!’
‘Britta, I am so sorry,’ Jewel whispered. ‘I did not think—’
‘I warned you, Jewel of Broome!’ Kay said grimly, releasing Britta’s wrist at last. ‘As it happens, you were lucky—there seems to be no great harm done. But Britta’s mind needs rest, and—’
‘Kay!’ Britta cut in. ‘Healer Kay, please listen to me!’
She was glad to see Kay look surprised at the strength in her voice. Determined to go on as she had begun, Britta took a deep breath.
‘I know that you have been trying to protect me, Kay, and I am grateful. But I cannot rest knowing that there is a gaping hole in my memory. I must be told what I cannot remember for myself.’
‘I am sure that much of your memory will return in time, Britta,’ Kay said. ‘You must be patient and wait—’
‘I cannot wait!’ Britta burst out, forgetting to keep her voice down. ‘You do not understand!’
Her throat closed, but she swallowed furiously and forced herself to go on. ‘I gather you all know about my father now, and I—I imagine that you all feel very differently about me as a result.’
She heard Jewel make a small, protesting sound, but did not look round.
‘The news will spread very fast in Del, once we land,’ she went on, keeping her voice as steady as she could. ‘I must know what happened on the Hungry Isle before then. I must have time to prepare myself for whatever may be in store for me and—and for my mother and sister.’
She swallowed hard again and made herself turn to Kay. The healer’s grey eyes were filled with pity.
‘Yes, I see,’ Kay said quietly. ‘I had not thought of it that way, Britta, but of course you are right.’ She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. ‘It will be as you wish. Jewel will tell you what you need to know. I will be on hand if you need me.’
So at last Britta heard the story of what had happened on the Isle of Tier—as much as Jewel knew, at least. Mostly it was as if Jewel was telling her a tale that had happened to someone else. Only sometimes did flashes of memory come to her. They were disturbing, but less horrifying than they had been before because now she understood what they meant.
Jewel told her story flatly, with as little detail as possible. But still it was a tale that was very hard for Britta to hear, for at its heart were her father’s wickedness, her father’s broken bargain and her father’s death. She heard the last of it with a bowed head. Her chest and throat were aching. It would have been a relief to cry, but as usual her eyes were dry.
Now she understood why Jewel had at first seemed uneasy with her. How did you treat a sick, troubled friend whose lies had put you in peril, but who had saved you by somehow causing the death of her own father?
And the odd things Kay had said about sharing Mab’s cabin now made sense. Kay thought Britta must hate Mab for using her as bait for the King of Tier.
Mab’s plan was one of the few things Britta now remembered clearly. The scene in front of the cavern had come back to her vividly as Jewel described watching her walk towards the starry mist with Mab. She remembered the scalding sense of betrayal she had felt at the time. She felt it still, but not so keenly. It was as if the things that had happened afterwards had drained away much of its power to hurt.
Things that had happened afterwards ... Britta turned her head to look at the old woman lying so still in the bunk on the other side of the cabin. According to Jewel, Mab had been struck down because of her plan—had almost paid for it with her life.
Something fluttered in the darkness at the edge of Britta’s mind. She tried to drag it into the open, and sighed in frustration when it would not come.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. ‘Mab would not be alive now if it were not for you, Britta,’ Jewel said in a low voice. ‘None of us would. How you managed to get the Staff away from your father no one will ever know, unless the memory comes back to you in time. But somehow you did it—you did what you had to do. You saved us, and because the Staff fell to dust with your father’s death, you also put an end to the Hungry Isle for good. To anyone of sense, nothing else should matter. In Broome you will be hailed as a hero, I promise you!’