“Indeed,” says Lumar, stepping forward. “Captain Wrathe, is it? Pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Lumar.”
The four of them proceed into the captain’s cabin. Olin pushes the door shut behind them.
Up high in the lighthouse, Stukeley scans the deck frantically. Where are they? Where have they gone? But his lamp already knows the answer. They have made it inside. Their simple plan is coming together. They cannot be stopped.
But he decides it is worth a try at least. He lets go of the lamp and propels himself down the spiral stairway. He flies — two, three, four steps at a time. It seems like an eternity of stairs. Who knows what mischief will have been done in the time it takes him to descend?
He runs out of the building into the wet night. The waves are making a vicious noise. He sees the ferryboat, empty, bound to the side of the ship. He sees their other small bark tied to the rocks. He could take it out to the ship but, in his heart, he knows it is too late. He can feel it.
Then, as if he needed confirmation, he hears the first scream. It is not long before others follow. Even above the roar of the storm, the screams of men and women are easy to discern and distinguish.
He sees the pirates running back and forth upon the deck. He sees the fallen — those who have failed to escape the touch of the four strangers. He sees the others — who have been luckier, but who now throw themselves from the ship in order to be free. They jump down into the savage waters, which — though not so far from land — are deep and unpredictable. They should save their screams — they cannot afford to waste their breath.
There must have been more than a hundred and fifty crew on the ship. But finally, there are no more screams.
And, as alarming as the sound of their agony was, the absence of it chills him more. The four strangers have brought this ship to silence. Stukeley witnesses it all. He sees the fallen bodies sliding back and forth across the deck, slimy now with blood as well as spume. He sees the other bodies fighting to survive in the surrounding waters. They last out bravely but not for long. Perhaps one or two — a handful at best — will make it to the land. Whether their fear will allow them to survive the night remains to be seen.
At last, he sees a familiar figure step out onto the deck. It is Sidorio. His chest is puffed out. He is smiling.
When the pirates flooded out, they seemed like ants, utterly diminished by the ordeal. In contrast, Sidorio seems like a giant. He strides into the center of the deck, balancing himself expertly — as if he has simply swapped his regular surfboard for this super-sized one.
Without a moment’s pause, he looks up and meets Stukeley’s eyes through the distance and the darkness.
“Lieutenant Stukeley!” he booms. “Come and join us! There is blood for you here. Plenty of blood.” He laughs. “We have our ship! We have our ship!”
His words fly through the air and bring a smile to Stukeley’s face. There, he thinks to himself, his concerns for the pirate crew forgotten. He called me lieutenant. I am still his lieutenant!
“I’m on my way, Captain!” he calls back, already running to join him.
“We have our ship!” Sidorio calls once more.
Stukeley unties the small boat. He cannot get there fast enough.
Above them, the lamp of the lighthouse spins madly around, illuminating the chaos. Their simple plan has been accomplished.
34
AFTER THE STORM
Connor slept fitfully and, when Jacoby knocked on his door the next morning, he was still in his nightclothes, his head as heavy as lead.
“Wow! You look awful!” Jacoby said, bounding into Connor’s room, full of beans in his Academy tracksuit. “Better get a move on, man. It’s already quarter to seven.”
“I don’t think I can do SSM today,” Connor said.
“Why not?” asked Jacoby. “Are you feeling sick?”
Connor shook his head. “It’s Grace,” he said. “She tried to take her own life last night.”
Jacoby’s jaw dropped open. “No! Why? How?”
“It’s a long story,” Connor told him. “But it ended with her throwing herself off the harbor wall.”
Jacoby shook his head. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“I saw her. I was up in her room. I ...I saw her jump. And I ran . . .”
He was shaking at the memory. Jacoby put his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “You did good, mate. You did real good.”
It took a moment for Connor to steady his breathing. He was determined not to cry in front of Jacoby. “She left this,” he said, passing Grace’s note to his friend.
Jacoby scanned the words. “Wow, that’s heavy, man. And look at the way the writing is all blotchy. It looks like she was crying when she wrote it.”
Connor nodded. He had noticed that, too, of course.
“I don’t understand,” Jacoby said. “I know that Grace wasn’t having the best of times here. And I know she’s been a bit sick. But why would she want to do something like this?”
“Like I say,” Connor said, “it’s a long story. And it’s time you were off on your run.”
Jacoby shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere, mister. I’m not leaving you like this. So, now you have plenty of time to tell me exactly what’s been going on.”
Connor looked into his friend’s eyes. It would be a relief to tell him about Grace’s obsession with the Vampirates. Even if it was a betrayal of her trust, so be it. She had betrayed him in the worst way last night. Now it was every man for himself.
Jacoby walked with Connor to the infirmary. They pushed open the heavy door and stepped into the long room, lined with rudimentary iron beds. Only one, in the center of the row, was occupied. As they began walking toward it, a figure stepped briskly from the shadows.
“Oh, hello,” Connor said.
“Good morning,” said Nurse Carmichael, not quite smiling. “How did you sleep?”
“Not well,” Connor said.
“I’m not surprised,” replied Nurse Carmichael, shaking her head. “What a night!”
“How is she today?” Connor said.
“Still sleeping.” The nurse smoothed her starchy uni-form. “Best thing for her.”
“Let’s go and see her,” Jacoby said.
“Not much to see,” said Nurse Carmichael.
“All the same.” Jacoby nudged Connor forward. They walked past the nurse to the bed where Grace was tucked under the tight white bedsheets.
“She looks pale,” said Jacoby.
She did. Connor looked at his sister. She was peaceful now at least, her hair fanned out on the pillow, her hands crossed over her chest like an old statue in a churchyard. Connor couldn’t help listening out for her breath. It was faint, and it came like a distant breeze.
“Like I told you, not much to see.” Nurse Carmichael appeared at the bedside.
“When will she wake up?” Jacoby asked. “Are you sure she’s okay?”
The nurse fixed him with angry eyes. “Are you questioning my expertise, Jacoby Blunt?”
He shook his head. “I just —”
“Because it isn’t so long now since I was rubbing witch-hazel on your grazed knees and elbows, young man. I think I’m just a bit better qualified to judge the situation, don’t you?”
Jacoby raised his hands in defeat and stepped back from the bed.
“Will you let me know when she wakes up?” Connor asked.
“Of course,” said the nurse in a gentler tone. “I shall send word immediately. But it could be a while yet. You’re best getting on with the business of your day. A busy mind can’t dwell.”
Connor nodded. He took a last look at his sister’s deceptively peaceful face, then turned away. “We’d better get to lessons,” he said to Jacoby.
The two of them walked back to the door.
“Well, at least this decides one thing,” Jacoby said.
Connor turned to him quizzically.
“You can’t leave the Academy until s
he’s better, can you? No matter what Captain Wrathe thinks about it.”
Connor hadn’t thought of that. “I suppose not,” he said.
Jacoby smiled. “I’m not going to say that every cloud has a silver lining. But, at least she’s okay. And this will give you some more thinking time.”
Connor nodded. As they stepped out into the sunshine, he felt a little lighter of heart.
Behind him, the heavy door of the infirmary swung shut.
As it did so, the heels of two other visitors — who had entered via the opposite door — clicked across the marble floor toward Grace’s bedside.
“Headmaster, Mistress Li,” said Nurse Carmichael, nodding to them.
“How is our patient today?” Commodore Kuo asked the nurse.
“As well as can be expected,” she said. “Her body is still in shock. I’ve given her something to kill the pain.”
“Very good,” said the headmaster. He and Cheng Li looked down at Grace. Nurse Carmichael leaned in closer. For a while, the three of them said nothing, observing her breathing.
Then Nurse Carmichael stole a sidelong glance to Cheng Li. “The girl said something strange before she went to sleep,” she said.
“Oh?” Cheng Li met Nurse Carmichael’s stare straight on. She was one person the nurse would not intimidate.
“She said that you knew all about this — all about her plan.”
“She said this to you?” Cheng Li asked.
Nurse Carmichael made sure she had both visitors’ attention. “Not to me, specifically. She was talking to her brother.”
“I see.” Cheng Li nodded. Nurse Carmichael thought she saw an uneasy look pass between Mistress Li and the headmaster. She made her face a mask.
“I told them, of course, that it was nonsense. That you were sleeping . . .”
The headmaster and Cheng Li were still locked in a glance.
“I was right, wasn’t I? You were sleeping, Mistress Li?”
Cheng Li opened her mouth to speak, but it was Commodore Kuo’s smooth voice that filled the air.
“I don’t think Mistress Li has any need to explain herself to you or anyone else,” he said. “This has been a distressing incident, but Grace is safe now.” He turned the full beam of his gaze upon Nurse Carmichael. “The best thing would be for all of us to take good care of her and create the minimum of fuss.”
“Oh, yes,” said the nurse, her eyes darting away. “I quite agree. No fuss.”
“Then we all understand each other,” Commodore Kuo said. “And now, if you’ll excuse us, we have students to teach. We’ll leave you to your ...gentle healing.”
He gave her a formal bow and then swiftly ushered Cheng Li toward the door.
Nurse Carmichael watched them go. Thoughts were popping in her head like fireworks. She glanced down at the sleeping girl. What secrets could she tell, she wondered. What secrets lay beneath that smooth unconscious mask?
A busy mind can’t dwell. The nurse’s words of wisdom proved true. Once the day’s lessons were underway, Connor felt himself start to regain a sense of normality. The weather returned to calm sunshine and for Captain Grammont’s Practical Piracy and Ocean-faring class the students took to the boats in the harbor to practice maneuvers. Connor felt a tug at his heart as he caught his first glimpse of the wall in the daylight. Jacoby squeezed his friend’s shoulder. And, as Connor looked up, the harbor wall was bone dry and the waters were low on either side, like mirrors reflecting the bright sun. It was as if last night had never happened — as if it had all just been a nightmare.
“Come on,” Jacoby said, “Grammont’s dividing us into threes . . . Jasmine! Jasmine, wait up!”
The morning raced by and, now that the fine weather had returned, they were able to lunch on the terrace once more.
“Any word on Grace?” Jacoby asked Connor.
Connor shook his head. “But I’m going to check on her before afternoon class.”
“Cool,” said Jacoby, “I’ll come with you.”
“Me, too,” said Jasmine.
Connor nodded and smiled. It was good knowing he had his friends around him at a time like this.
As he was finishing up dessert, Connor saw Commodore Kuo approaching from the end of the terrace. He glanced up, expecting the headmaster to stop and talk to him. They hadn’t seen each other since the previous evening. Kuo must have known about Grace, and Connor felt sure that he would have something to say on the matter.
But the headmaster didn’t seem to notice him, walking past their table at a brisk pace and entering his study from the door on the terrace. It slammed behind him.
Connor looked up and saw that Jacoby and Jasmine had both been watching, too.
“What’s eating the Kuo?” asked Jacoby.
Connor shrugged.
“Beats me,” Jasmine said, finishing the last mouthful of chocolate pudding. “Mmm, that was delicious. I’m going to be on a sugar high all afternoon!”
“Me, too,” Jacoby said. “Combat Workshop should be fun today!” He turned to Connor. “Right, shall we go and check on your sister?” he said.
Connor was lost in thought.
“Calling Mister Tempest! Earth to Mister Tempest!”
“Sorry?”
“I said, how’s about we take a stroll down to the infirmary and check how Grace is doing? We could even take her some cake. I’m sure that witch Carmichael won’t be feeding her anything but liquid nasties.”
“That sounds good,” Connor said. “But first I think I’m going to go and have a quick word with Commodore Kuo.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” said Jasmine. “He doesn’t seem in a great mood for a chat.”
“That’s just it,” Connor said, “I think his mood might have something to do with me and Grace. If I talk to him, I might be able to smooth it over.”
He could see from their expressions that the other two didn’t think this was a good idea. But he knew his own mind. Besides, they hadn’t been privy to the discussions he and Commodore Kuo had been having. He knew that the headmaster would have thoughts about what had happened with Grace and he wanted to hear them. He stood up and tucked his chair back under the table.
“I’ll only be five minutes,” he said.
“Okeydokey,” Jacoby said, “I guess I’ll just have to endure five minutes alone with Peacock.” He feigned bore-dom. As he yawned, Jasmine threw a raspberry at him. It bounced on his nose, leaving a blood-red stain.
Connor grinned and walked across the terrace. He had planned to go to the headmaster’s door off the Rotunda but, as he passed the study, he saw that the glass door onto the terrace was ajar. It must have bounced open again after Kuo had slammed it. As Connor headed toward it, he heard the headmaster’s voice.
“Things are getting out of hand.”
He had never heard such steel in the headmaster’s tone. It brought him to an immediate standstill.
“I thought this was what you wanted.”
It was Cheng Li. Now, Connor froze to the spot.
“It’s a very delicate situation,” he heard Kuo say. “We had him just where we wanted him — but it’s a fine line.”
Were they talking about him? They must be. Or was it just arrogance to think that?
“I really don’t see what has changed,” Cheng Li said. “If anything, we’re closer to the result we want.”
Connor felt his head begin to pound. If they were talking about him, what did this mean? Had they had something to do with what had happened to Grace? He remembered in a flash Grace saying that Cheng Li had known her plan. Nurse Carmichael had dismissed this as madness but Grace and Cheng Li had certainly spent enough time together. He felt as if he was putting together a jigsaw but didn’t yet have all the pieces.
“Connor . . .”
It was Kuo’s voice. So they were talking about him.
“Connor!”
No, they weren’t talking about him. They were talking to him. The French door to Kuo’s
study opened and the headmaster leaned out and stared at him with a curious expression.
Connor was trapped and exposed.
“I think you’d better come inside,” said Commodore Kuo, beckoning him from the bright terrace into the darkness.
35
LETTING GO
Connor’s heart was beating wildly as Commodore Kuo closed the door behind him. His friends were only a couple of feet away on the terrace — he could see their backs through the window — and yet he sensed extreme danger, as if he was willingly walking into a cage at the zoo.
“Take a seat,” said Kuo.
Connor sat down in the chair opposite Commodore Kuo’s desk. Kuo sat down in his own chair, but Cheng Li remained standing, her hand resting on the globe.
“It goes without saying,” said Commodore Kuo, “that we’re extremely shocked and distressed by what happened last night. And I can only imagine how you must be feeling.”
Connor heard the words and waited. Wasn’t the head-master going to say anything about catching him outside, listening in on the conversation? Wasn’t he going to try to explain away the words he must know Connor had over-heard?
“I’m terribly sorry not to have come and seen you earlier,” said Kuo, “but I’m afraid I was distracted by urgent Federation business. It’s really no excuse but I feel I must offer it.”
“Thanks,” Connor said.
Cheng Li stepped across the room, moving to the head-master’s side. “We came here from the infirmary, Connor. Grace seems to be stable now.”
Connor nodded.
The headmaster smiled at him. “How are you doing, Connor?”
Connor shrugged. “I’m okay, I guess. It was a big shock.”
Commodore Kuo nodded.
“I mean, first of all, finding the note.”
“The note?”
Commodore Kuo clearly hadn’t heard this part. Connor reached into his jacket and produced the folded note. Commodore Kuo slipped on his glasses and read Grace’s blotchy handwriting. “May I?” he asked Connor, before offering it to Cheng Li. Connor nodded. What did it matter? Let them all read it. Let them all see the fragile state of his sister’s mind.
“So you found this note and then . . .” Commodore Kuo raised his eyebrows, inviting Connor to continue.
Vampirates: Tide of Terror Page 24