Her heart was racing and her head was spinning. She needed to see the captain now. He’d have the answer. But if he did, how could he let Lorcan suffer like this? When she’d visited the last time, Lorcan had said that the captain’s powers were being tested. Did this mean that even he could not help Lorcan? This was terrible, just too terrible.
She looked back toward Lorcan but the mist had already started to separate them. Despairingly, she stretched out her hands to him. Though he could not see, he must have sensed her because his hands reached back toward hers.
But their fingers could not touch. An invisible curtain still held them apart. The mist began to descend more thickly.
“No!” she cried. “Not yet. I can’t leave now.”
But the mist was now so thick she could no longer even see him. Still, she reached for his hands, though she knew in her heart it was useless. Then the motion began and she was thrown backward by it, torn away from him. She felt herself racing away, this time without the bed, as if she were bodysurfing on the most urgent of tides.
But why? she thought. Why am I torn away just when I need to stay?
The thoughts were still turning over and over in her mind as she opened her eyes and found herself once more in her room at the Academy. She lay, sprawled on the bed, on top of the pillows and counterpane.
There was a knocking at the door and she sensed from its loudness and urgency that whoever it was had been knocking for a while.
“Come in,” she called, bringing herself up to a seated position.
“Grace!” Connor bounded into the room, walking straight past her and flinging open the curtains to the balcony. “Grace, what are you still doing in bed? It’s a glorious morning. I’ve been for a run and . . .”
Connor finally looked back at his sister.
“Grace, you look awful. What’s the matter?”
Grace sighed, pulling herself up into a sitting position.
“I slept really heavily. It must be . . . must have been all that food at dinner last night.”
Connor laughed. “Well, go and have a shower — quickly! We’ve been invited to sit in on Captain Quivers’ Knot class after breakfast. It’s only the juniors but it should be fun. Come on, Grace. Get a move on! We don’t want to miss breakfast!”
Grace looked at her brother. He had absolutely no idea what she was going through. She ached to tell him but she couldn’t. Not yet. He wouldn’t understand. He didn’t want to know about the Vampirates. Far better he focus all his energies on Academy life. One battle at a time, she told herself. Once she’d made sure he wasn’t going back to The Diablo, then — and only then — would she try to tell him about her own adventures.
22
KNOTS
Jacoby, Jasmine, and a couple of other students joined them on the terrace for a quick breakfast. It was already a bright, hot day and Grace was thankful she had had the wit to grab her sunglasses as Connor had propelled her at high speed out of her room.
Jacoby chatted away to Grace in a friendly manner and she made all the right noises in return though, of course, her mind was still far from the Academy. It didn’t seem to bother Jacoby in the slightest. He was the most easygoing of companions. Grace toyed with a muffin and a small glass of orange juice as the kids around her made light work of pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, and fruit.
“We better get a move on,” Jacoby announced, as the school bell began to chime. Grace couldn’t help but think of the Dawning Bell aboard the Vampirate ship — the bell that sent the vampires back inside. The bell that Lorcan had ignored to save her. She felt guilty to be wearing sunglasses, thinking how safe she was, compared to her friend. Her friend, who she had caused such pain.
“Where did you say your first port of call was, Connor?” Jacoby’s bright voice cut across her dark imaginings. It was lonely to feel so bleak in such sunny company.
“Captain Quivers’ Knot class,” Connor answered his friend.
Jacoby laughed. “I see they’re starting you off with the basics. OK, I’ll show you guys down there. Come on, Grace. How is your marlinspike hitch, by the way?”
Grace looked at Jacoby quizzically through her dark shades.
He laughed. “Hmm, I’m not sure you’ve had quite enough coffee for this.”
A few minutes later, Jacoby delivered Grace and Connor along one of the tributaries of the Octopus to a small, bright classroom full of low desks and excited little kids, making the kind of high-pitched noise that little kids make on a sunny morning. Grace realized that she probably ought to take off her glasses indoors. As she did, her eyes were assailed by the bright colors that buzzed from every surface of the room — from the kids’ paintings and collages which lined the walls to the models of sea creatures proudly displayed on shelves. Looking up, she saw that the students had even made their own mobile of swords, to mimic the glass cases in the Rotunda. Each had painted their own imagined sword and written their name proudly beside it. Captain Samara Pescudo of The Meltemi, Grace read with a smile.
At the front of the class, Captain Quivers was handing out small baskets of colored ropes to kids aged, Grace guessed, between six and seven. Beside the teacher, one of the young students carefully presented each of his classmates with something like a thin rolling pin. His fellows rushed back to their desks with a pin and a basket of rope each.
Just then, Captain Quivers looked over and smiled up at them.
“Good morning, Grace and Connor. How are you both this beautiful day?”
“Very good,” said Grace, smiling brightly in spite of herself. She liked Captain Quivers. “Thanks for letting us crash your class.”
“Crash is the right word,” said Captain Quivers, “— fifteen juniors and this amount of rope! I hope you’re good at untying knots!” She chuckled. “You go and grab a spare seat, my dears.” She turned back to the class. “Once you have your knot pin, please attach it to your desk. Come on, now, you should be able to do this for yourselves by now. Let’s try to show our guests how clever and self-sufficient we all are.”
The twins watched as the kids clicked the pin into position at the front of their desks. It formed a small bar jutting out at the front. The more organized kids were now laying out strands of different colored ropes on the desk. Grace could sense a competitive spirit rising between some of the would-be pirates. She and Connor grinned at each other as they took their seats. Already, Grace felt herself starting to come back to life, back to the Academy.
“Okay then,” said Captain Quivers, “is everyone organized? Good. Well, take a blue rope, and tie me an over-hand knot.”
Immediately, tiny hands buzzed into action, reaching for the small lengths of rope and knotting them expertly around the bar at the front of their desks.
“Lovely work. Now take a red rope and do me a figure of eight.”
Once more the hands whisked up the rope and expertly wound it around the length of wood. Captain Quivers cast her eyes about the room, nodding encouragingly. “Remember, nice and tight, Nile,” she said, smiling at one of the younger-looking boys. He nodded earnestly, drawing the rope together more tightly.
“And now,” said Captain Quivers, pausing to glance around the room. The kids were silent, holding their breath with excitement, waiting to know which color of rope and knot would be called next. Grace stifled a giggle. It was wonderful to see such youthful exuberance — she suddenly felt very old. I’m just fourteen, she thought. It isn’t so long ago that I was a kid in a classroom like this. But now...now she might as well have been as old as Captain Quivers, there was such a gulf of experience between her and these bright-eyed children.
“. . . grab a green rope and make me a . . . carrick bend.”
Immediately the air was full of green rope, twisting and turning as tiny fingers and thumbs made light work of Captain Quivers’ latest challenge.
“Lovely, lovely, lovely!” said Captain Quivers. “Now, class, we have two special visitors with us today. Everyone say hello to Grace an
d Connor Tempest. Grace and Connor are visiting us from the very famous pirate ship, The Diablo. Yes, that’s right, The Diablo. Who can tell me who the captain of that ship is?”
Immediately hands shot up, with some of the kids dangerously near to straining their limbs with effort.
“Yes, Mika?”
“Captain Molucco Wrathe,” the girl announced with perfect diction. “That’s right, Mika. Well done. Hands down again, everyone.” There was a buzz of excited chatter as the kids took proper notice of Grace and Connor for the first time. “Now, since we have Grace and Connor with us today, I thought you might like to take a break from your rope-work to ask them just a few questions about life on a real pirate ship — if that’s okay with you?” As she turned to Grace and Connor, the children’s hands were already up and straining.
“What’s Captain Wrathe like?” asked a small, ginger-haired boy at the front of the class.
“Good question, Luc,” said Captain Quivers.
“He’s an amazing man,” said Connor. “Imagine all the exciting stories you ever heard about him and then some more!”
“Is it true he has a pet snake?” inquired a girl in the center of the class.
“Absolutely.” Connor nodded. “He’s called Scrimshaw and he lives in Captain Wrathe’s hair.”
There was a sigh of awe around the room, and a loudly hissed, “I told you!”
Captain Quivers nodded at another girl. “Yes, Samara, a question from you?”
“I want to ask Grace — did you always want to be a pirate?”
Grace shook her head. “No, not really. It all happened by accident.”
The girl looked disappointed.
“Have you always wanted to be a pirate?” Grace asked her.
“Oh, yes.” Samara nodded very rapidly. “My name is Samara Pescudo and one day I am going to be a pirate captain, just like my mummy and daddy.” Others around her nodded their agreement. They had been well schooled already, thought Grace.
“Have you done much fighting?” one of the boys asked Connor.
“Yes,” Connor answered. “You have to be ready to defend yourself and to attack at all times on the ship.”
“Which swords do you use?” another boy asked, too excited to remember to raise his hand. All eyes turned to Connor.
“I use a rapier,” he said.
“Just a rapier?” the boy persisted.
Connor nodded. “Just a rapier.”
“We generally teach combat with two swords here,” Captain Quivers interjected. “You’ll see this lot in action a little later.”
Grace was taken aback. Weren’t these kids a little young to be wielding swords?
“It’s Combat Workshop this afternoon,” one of the kids told Connor. “Are you going to come along and watch us?”
Connor shrugged. “I’m not sure. Would you like us to?”
“Yes!” the boy shouted, beaming. The others joined in the chorus.
“It is rather a special Combat Workshop, today,” Captain Quivers told Connor and Grace. “It would be well worth coming along. We have a little surprise in store for our young pirates.”
“What surprise, Captain Quivers?” It was little Samara again.
“Well now, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it?”
“We’re going to get our swords today!”
“That’s a good guess, Luc, but I’m not saying anything. My lips are sealed.” Captain Quivers mimed zipping up her lips.
“We’re either going to get our swords or maybe Mister Tempest’s going to do a demonstration or something.”
“Well,” said Captain Quivers, “you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you. Now, do we have any other questions for Connor and Grace or shall we return to our knots?”
A hand shot up again.
“Yes, Mika?”
“Please, Connor, which knots do you use on The Diablo?”
“To be honest,” Connor said with a smile, “I only know a few of the basics — a figure of eight, a reef knot . . . and a sheet bend. You guys could probably run rings around me.”
The children laughed.
“Well,” said Captain Quivers, “let’s put that to the test, shall we?” Smiling, she passed Connor a spare basket and a pin. “Here’s some rope, Connor. And some for you, Grace, dear.” She gave Grace another set. “And I’m going to show everyone a new, very useful knot — it’s called the marlinspike hitch . . .”
There were worse things on a sunny morning than sitting in a class of lively children, playing around with colored ropes, thought Grace. They were a cheerful and amusing bunch, and Mika, with whom she sat, was just delightful — barely seven years old but already a born teacher, patiently showing Grace how to tie each knot that Captain Quivers announced — the marlinspike hitch, the lariat loop, the bowline.
She wasn’t sure if it was being cocooned in the warm classroom, the friendly atmosphere Captain Quivers had created, or just the irrepressible energy of the kids them-selves, but Grace realized that she was thoroughly enjoying herself — for the first time in a very long time. The rope-making challenge allowed her to forget for a moment the bigger dilemmas she faced. Perhaps it was the simplicity of just taking colored ropes and twisting them into knots. Sometimes you got it right first time; sometimes, you didn’t. But, even then, there was no problem — you just unpicked your work and had another go. If only her life was always as simple as this.
Grace felt a sudden sense of protectiveness over Mika and her young classmates. She glanced around the room at the eager apprentice pirates, their heads full of dreams of sun-drenched oceans and easy adventures. It all seemed so safe here — tying colored knots and making clay models of octopi or mobiles of swords or even messing about with Captain Avery on boats in the harbor. But, out beyond the harbor walls, another world lay in wait for them — a world Grace could not even have imagined at their young age. It would change them, just as it had changed her and Connor.
She glanced over at Connor now, amused to see him flailing about with the colored ropes. He seemed to have gotten into a real mess, and was being helped out by two of Captain Quivers’ young students. Possibly, he was just humoring them. It was good to see him laugh and joke with the kids, here in a room where the swords were only made of cardboard and, at worst, would give you a paper cut. Suddenly, Grace realized that she wasn’t filled with sadness at what was going to happen to the kids in the room. It was two other kids she was in mourning for — two kids who, through force of circumstance, had had to grow up far too fast.
23
LITTLE DOVES
As the bell chimed for afternoon classes, Jacoby led Grace and Connor through the sunny grounds to the gymnasium complex. Inside the bright, high-ceilinged gym, they found Cheng Li, who had changed out of her usual clothes and was dressed instead all in white, her feet bare. As usual, she did not look up to greet them as they came into the room. Her face was bent low over a bowl of incense. In her hands was a small, leather-bound book.
“Please take a seat to the side,” she said, still without looking up.
Jacoby removed his shoes and encouraged Grace and Connor to do the same. Then the three of them walked over to a row of seats at the side.
Cheng Li paced carefully across the matted floor. She lit a second bowl of incense and waited for the smoke to rise.
The school bell chimed once more. Shortly afterward, the gymnasium door opened and in trooped the fifteen children of the lower class, all dressed in white robes like their tutor. They look so sweet — like little doves, thought Grace, as they took their positions, spread evenly across the mats, though the wings on their backs were just two short lengths of bamboo held in place by straps. As the children settled silently into position, Cheng Li turned toward them and began speaking softly.
“First check your head. This is neither tilted up nor down. It does not lean to the side, nor is it crooked. It floats perfectly, like the sphere of the full moon.” She paused. “Your eyes
glance neither to the left nor to the right but remain in the center. Your sight extends from the center to each side, without your eyes moving. Behind your observing eyes, behind your eyelids, is an eye which sees deeper into all situations you encounter. Engage this all-seeing eye now.”
The children stood like statues, as their tutor surveyed them coolly, moving between them as softly as a breeze through blossom.
“Now, let your attention fall to your neck and shoulders . . .” Cheng Li took the young students through similar mantras until their bodies were fully engaged. Every now and then she stopped to gently turn a neck, or correct the posture of a spine. Grace was dazzled by the control the young students exerted. Either they were naturals or they had already been rigorously trained. Whichever, it was undeniably impressive, but at the same time a little spooky. In Captain Quivers’ Knot class, they had still seemed like children. Here, it was as if Cheng Li was moulding little warriors out of clay.
“Now, drop both shoulders, keep your back straight — do not stick out your rear — and put strength from your knees to the front of your feet. Extend your stomach so that your hips will not be bent.”
Once more, the young pirates made the infinitesimal adjustments to their posture to meet Cheng Li’s satisfaction. Nodding, she made her way back to the front of the class. “I am impressed. You have all learned your lessons well. You have laid the foundations for becoming not merely pirates, but warriors.”
She turned and picked up the leather book she had been holding before. “And now,” announced Cheng Li, “Let’s get working on a fresh attack strategy. Divide yourself into your combat groups . . .”
At these words, the children deftly rearranged them-selves across the mats, and Cheng Li began her briefing. “Today, we’ll start to look at another technique for deflecting an enemy’s blade,” she said. “I’m going to show you how to deliver a diagonal downward cut.”
There was a buzz of excitement as Cheng Li continued her instruction.
Grace leaned across to Jacoby. “Aren’t these kids a bit young to be learning about diagonal cuts?” she asked.
Vampirates: Tide of Terror Page 16