Orphans of the Tide

by Struan Murray

‘You always keep secrets from me,’ she said.

  ‘What secrets?’ Ellie felt her temper rise. There were more important things at stake here – why was Anna being so difficult? ‘Look, I can’t let you get hurt.’

  Anna touched Ellie’s sleeve. ‘You don’t have to protect me.’

  ‘Yes, I do!’ said Ellie, yanking her sleeve away. ‘You nearly got caught in that fire!’

  ‘We both nearly got caught in that fire, and you didn’t rescue me from it – he rescued us,’ Anna said, pointing at Seth. ‘I want to help.’

  ‘No, Anna,’ Ellie said firmly. ‘It’s my job to protect you.’

  Anna sighed. ‘It’s really not.’ She dropped her voice. ‘I’m not your brother.’

  Something hot flared in Ellie’s chest. ‘Get out,’ she snapped, her whole body trembling. Anna took a step back. ‘I don’t want your help. Get out!’

  Anna’s brow crumpled to a hurt little frown. Her mouth opened and closed.

  ‘But . . . but I –’ She looked at Ellie, then seemed to decide something. Her eyes bulged. Her lip curled. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Fine.’

  And she marched from the workshop, rubbing a hand across her face.

  Ellie locked the door behind her, then slumped over the nearest workbench, her forehead thudding against the wood.

  ‘Ellie,’ Seth said sternly.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Ellie groaned. Her whole body was exhausted, and her mind was too. It was like someone had drilled a hole in her head and let all the energy drain out of her. She flopped on to the ground.

  ‘Finn started that fire, didn’t he?’ said Seth.

  ‘I said not now, all right?’

  The front door rattled. It was an unfamiliar knock; the hair on Ellie’s neck stood on end. Seth clambered up a bookcase and hid in the library, and Ellie crept to the front door.

  ‘Lancaster,’ came a low voice.

  Ellie’s stomach twisted. Hargrath. She stayed utterly still, praying he would go away.

  ‘Let’s not play games, Ellie. I’ve got an axe. Don’t make me use it.’

  Ellie rolled her eyes at this obvious bluff. Who carried an axe around?

  There was a deafening crash and a sharp edge of metal broke through the door, spraying splinters.

  ‘All right, all right!’ said Ellie, unlocking the door and pulling it aside.

  Hargrath towered above her, his black hair neatly parted. He regarded her blankly with his deep, dead eyes. ‘You’re soaking wet,’ he said, stepping inside. He set down the axe and picked up a microscope from a workbench. He turned it round in his hand. ‘What’s this for?’

  ‘It’s like a very powerful magnifying glass,’ Ellie said resentfully. ‘It lets you see even the tiny animals that live in seawater.’

  Hargrath grunted, then tossed the microscope back on the bench, where it rocked on its side and fell over.

  ‘What do you want?’ said Ellie.

  Hargrath picked up one of Ellie’s wheeled, exploding distraction devices, weighed it in his hand, then put it back again.

  ‘I met your mother once,’ he said casually. ‘Nice woman. Clever, obviously. Very clever. So did you make that . . . that magnifying thing?’

  Ellie bristled. ‘No. She did.’

  Hargrath nodded, idly inspecting the floorboards. ‘Of course, of course.’ His eyes drifted lazily up to her. ‘Why do you smell of the sewers?’

  ‘I was fixing a drainage machine, down near St Epstein’s Spire. It got . . . messy.’

  Hargrath rubbed his chin, then gestured towards the basement. ‘You returned through that door?’

  Ellie stiffened. ‘What?’

  He pointed at the floor. ‘Wet footprints,’ he said. ‘Also there seem to be two sets?’ He looked up enquiringly.

  ‘I was . . . I was with Anna. My best friend?’

  Hargrath looked at Ellie for many long moments. She tried to hold his gaze but her whole body was trembling.

  ‘Where is he, Ellie?’ he said.

  ‘Where is who?’

  Hargrath opened the door to the basement and looked down into the darkness. Ellie prayed that Seth had remembered to hide the mattress he slept on. Hargrath closed the door, then stared at her, letting the silence fill the workshop until it was suffocating.

  ‘You realize . . . whether you protect him or not, he will die. Either by the hand of the Inquisition, or the thing that lives inside him. By helping him you only doom yourself as well.’

  Ellie’s cheeks were hot, and surely red. She swallowed.

  Hargrath knelt down, his dead face inches from hers. ‘I warned you before,’ he whispered. ‘You don’t know what you’re dealing with. I was like you once – young, bold. Foolish. I thought I was the hero from some bedtime story. I raced to the top of the Clocktower of St Angelos, eager to confront the evil beast. But instead I found Claude Hestermeyer. He looked tired. So thin. So . . . pathetic. And then –’ Hargrath snapped his fingers – ‘he fell apart. Just like that. His skin, his flesh, his body was . . . discarded, like rags in the wind. And – underneath – this thing. This creature. It lives inside the boy as we speak, growing stronger, waiting to emerge. And, when it does, it will bring destruction you cannot imagine.’

  For a long moment, Hargrath seemed to forget where he was. His hand trembled and his eyes flickered in his skull, as if seeing memories play out in front of him at a rapid pace. He growled and closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them again they were ringed red. With a creak of leather, he turned to show her the empty left arm of his coat. ‘I know, Ellie. You don’t want to be there when the time comes. So tell me,’ he said, ‘where is he?’

  ‘I told you,’ she said, ‘I don’t know.’

  Hargrath studied her. ‘You hold some influence over him, don’t you? I saw that much on the roof of St Bartholomew’s Chapel. You could use that influence for the good of the City. You could convince him to turn himself in.’

  ‘I haven’t seen him since the day you arrested him,’ Ellie said.

  ‘Is that so? Then perhaps you can explain why a girl matching your description was spotted fleeing the Oystery earlier? And perhaps you can also explain why I found this just now, close to where the Vessel was last seen?’

  From his pocket, he pulled a small, wheeled device with a key sticking from its back, placing it next to its exact replica on the workbench. Ellie’s whole body shuddered.

  Why didn’t it explode?

  ‘You will bring the Vessel to me,’ said Hargrath. ‘Or lead me to him, by noon, three days from now. In return, I won’t mention your name to the High Inquisitor. You will walk free. I will hand the boy over, or kill him myself if necessary. And then . . .’ he took a deep breath, looking longingly into the distance – ‘they will sing the name of Killian Hargrath. Defender of the City. Destroyer of the Enemy. They will call me a hero.’

  ‘They already call you a hero,’ said Ellie bitterly.

  But Hargrath was lost in thought. Finally, he looked at her. ‘If you do not give him to me, I will inform the High Inquisitor that I found this . . . toy at the scene of the Vessel’s escape. I will have you arrested. I will have your workshop torn apart. I will make your life an unendurable hell until you tell me what you know. And, when the dust settles, you will be dead, and your mother’s legacy –’ he picked up the microscope from the workbench – ‘will fall to nothing.’

  He dropped the microscope to the floor and stepped on it with his huge black boot, crunching through metal and glass.

  ‘Good day, Miss Lancaster,’ he said, then he bowed and marched from the workshop.

  Ellie stared dully at the broken bits of microscope.

  ‘It was supposed to explode,’ she said, in a hollow voice. ‘Why didn’t it explode?’

  ‘Ellie, are you all right?’ said Seth, leaping down from the library.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said. Her voice sounded like someone else’s and her body felt very cold.

  ‘Are you sure?’

/>   Ellie hobbled towards the nearest workbench, her legs like lead. She lay her head down, resting on one cheek. ‘Yeah. Yes, I’m okay.’

  She glanced up at Seth, who was looking down at her sceptically.

  ‘No,’ she said, quietly.

  Seth bit his lip. ‘We’ll figure something out,’ he said. ‘We’ll go back to my first plan – find the real Vessel. Maybe Finn can . . .’

  He paused, and for a moment was frozen still. Ellie straightened up, watching him nervously.

  ‘Seth, what’s wrong?’

  He looked at her. ‘Finn,’ he said.

  Ellie swallowed. ‘What about him?’

  ‘Why is Finn going to such lengths to protect you? Why do you matter so much to him?’

  ‘It’s . . . it’s complicated.’

  Seth picked up Hestermeyer’s diary. ‘But the things he’s done. Saving me from that bonfire, starting that other fire at the Oystery. They’re impossible.’ He stroked the cover. ‘It’s just like in here. Hestermeyer makes a wish, and impossible things happen.’

  A horrible, icy pain gripped Ellie’s chest. She slumped to the floor. Seth knelt down next to her. Ellie was sure she was about to be sick.

  ‘You keep saying I’m not the Vessel, but you’ve never explained how you know that,’ Seth said quietly. ‘The only way you could be so sure is if you know who is. Ellie, is Finn the Vessel?’

  Ellie closed her eyes, not wanting to see the look on his face when she told him. She took his hand in hers, and hoped he would not let go once she’d said the words.

  ‘No, Seth. Finn is the Enemy. I’m the Vessel.’

  The Vessel

  The words lingered in the air. Long seconds went by, or maybe minutes, and there was just a huge, terrifying silence. Ellie felt somehow the world had changed, now that she’d spoken the truth at last.

  She let go of Seth’s hand, pulling herself up and stumbling to the sink for a cup of water.

  ‘You’re the Vessel,’ he said. It wasn’t a question.

  Ellie’s fingers trembled so much she had to use both hands to raise the cup to her lips. She’d never told anybody, not once. She’d never spoken the words, not even to the mirror.

  ‘I shouldn’t have said anything,’ she said. She sipped, put the cup down, and found the water hadn’t helped her thirst. She felt a stab of worry, and couldn’t bear to look at Seth, afraid of what she might see in his expression. ‘I shouldn’t have told you.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I’m the Vessel!’ she said. ‘I’m evil.’

  ‘You’re not evil.’

  ‘I am!’

  She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He took a step towards her and she shied away, holding up her arms to hide her face. It was strange, being looked at for the first time by someone who knew what she really was. Her skin prickled under his gaze.

  Seth looked thoughtfully at the ground. ‘You asked the Enemy to save me from the fire in St Ephram’s Square. Then the Enemy tried to kill Anna with that fire at the Oystery. And, when we jumped from the tower, you asked it to save us again. So it made that hole in the ground.’

  ‘Which means he has another wish of his own to make now,’ said Ellie. ‘He’ll probably fling someone from the top of a building. Something like that.’

  ‘When did it happen?’ Seth said quietly. ‘When did you first see it?’

  Ellie swallowed. ‘Three years ago. I came back here one day, and there he was. It was quite nice at first.’

  ‘Nice?’ Seth choked.

  ‘I was lonely. I’d just lost my brother – I liked having someone to talk to. He helped me with my machines.’

  ‘And you’ve managed to keep it a secret for three years?’

  Ellie nodded.

  ‘But –’ Seth looked her up and down – ‘you don’t seem . . .’

  ‘Like the Vessel?’ Ellie gave a tiny, humourless laugh. ‘Pale, tired, easily scratched and bruised?’ She pulled up the sleeves of her coat to show him the many criss-crossing, scabbed-over scratches, the patches of purple bruises. She winced as the fabric brushed against them. ‘Still, at least my hair isn’t falling out yet. So . . . are you going to turn me in to the Inquisitors?’

  Seth frowned. ‘No. Why should I?’

  ‘Because I’m the Vessel, Seth. Don’t you get it? It’s not like I stole a fish, or threw a stone at a cat. I have the Enemy living inside me – if the Inquisitors knew what I was, I’d be dead! The whole City would want me dead!’ She turned from him, shaking her head. ‘You don’t understand.’

  Seth laughed bitterly. ‘Oh, I understand,’ he said. ‘The whole City does want me dead.’

  Ellie looked at him. A tiny seed seemed to crack open in the pit of her stomach – in a way, he probably did understand.

  ‘And I would be dead,’ he continued, ‘if you hadn’t saved me, again and again.’

  ‘I saved you for now. But Finn’s still got a wish to make, and he’s not going to waste it, trust me.’ Ellie gritted her teeth. ‘I hadn’t asked him for anything for over a year. A year! Not one wish.’

  ‘What did you ask him for before?’

  Ellie looked round the workshop. ‘Stupid stuff, at first. Mostly I asked him to help me fix my mum’s machines. When something broke, he’d mend it for me. The owner would be delighted. And then, a few weeks later, Finn would use his wish to break it again. It didn’t help my reputation; people said my workmanship was shoddy. But I couldn’t fix the things myself. I’m not smart enough.’

  ‘Ellie, you made a boat that goes underwater.’

  ‘By sinking,’ she said. ‘Most boats can do that if you put a hole in them. I’m a fraud.’

  ‘But you’ve lasted three years as the Vessel. Hestermeyer barely lasted three months,’ said Seth, pointing at the diary. ‘And it’s not like you’re dangerous.’

  ‘I might not be dangerous now. But I will be. Every time I ask for Finn’s help, I get weaker. And he gets stronger. Soon . . .’

  She put a hand to her chest. She felt light-headed, her body a brittle shell. She stumbled towards her bedroom.

  ‘I need to lie down,’ she said. ‘You can come in. It doesn’t matter now.’

  She swung the door open and drifted inside her bedroom. Seth followed.

  Ellie’s bedroom was a sad, empty place. The bed was plain, the bare boards were covered with pencils and pencil shavings, and little hills of candle wax. A solitary window close to the ceiling had been boarded over haphazardly, wooden planks hammered into the wall. The only colour in the room came from a single red sock that lay forgotten in one corner.

  ‘Who is . . .’ said Seth, looking around. ‘What are these?’

  There were at least three hundred black-and-white drawings stuck to the walls, sketched in pencil or ink or charcoal. Three hundred faces, three hundred boys, each one a little different from the next. A crooked nose here, cheeks freckled there, straight hair or messy hair or a dimpled chin or a chickenpox scar.

  ‘They’re my brother,’ said Ellie, flopping down on her bed.

  ‘All of them?’ said Seth, confused. Then he nodded to himself. ‘You’re trying to remember what he looked like.’

  Ellie wrung her hands. ‘I can’t really picture him any more,’ she mumbled. The drawings terrified her, but she felt somehow they were necessary. ‘Look, Seth,’ she said, ‘I’m the Vessel. I really am.’

  ‘I believe you.’

  ‘Well –’ Ellie crossed her arms – ‘you clearly don’t. I shouldn’t have expected you to understand. You’ve only been in the City a few days after all. You don’t know how serious this is.’

  Seth tensed. ‘They put me in a cage, Ellie,’ he said. ‘They tried to burn me alive. I know what this means.’

  ‘Then why aren’t you afraid of me!’ said Ellie, digging her fingers into her hair. ‘You should be. I’m dangerous, Seth. I’m a monster.’

  Seth leaned back against the wall. Ellie was infuriated by how calm he was.

>   ‘You’re the only person in the City who isn’t trying to kill me,’ he said softly.

  ‘What about Anna?’

  ‘Oh, Anna is definitely trying to kill me,’ said Seth. ‘On the way back from the cathedral, she spent the whole time whispering to me about her collection of poisonous plants, and how she hoped none of them ended up in my breakfast.’

  Ellie laughed, and it was like a brilliant blue flower sprouting suddenly in the sand. She felt exhausted, yet there was a great relief filling her body. Seth did understand. He understood, and he was still here.

  ‘Is that why you saved me?’ said Seth. ‘Because you knew I was innocent?’

  ‘Partly,’ said Ellie. ‘I’m sorry, I should have been trying harder to figure out who you are. I’ve just been so worried about what Finn was going to do to you.’

  Seth paced over, catlike, moving a wrench from the bed so he could sit down next to her. ‘There must be something we can do,’ he said.

  ‘There is. I can turn myself in before the Enemy’s ready to take physical form.’

  ‘But if you die, the Enemy will just claim a new Vessel, right?’

  ‘Eventually, yes, but what else can I do? If the Inquisition doesn’t know I’m the Vessel, they’ll keep hunting you.’

  ‘You’re clever, Ellie,’ said Seth. ‘You can figure out a way to beat the Enemy.’

  Ellie scoffed. ‘Hestermeyer couldn’t stop the Enemy, and neither could any of the others before him. And most of them were adults. Every single Vessel before me has died horribly, either because of the Enemy or the Inquisition.’

  ‘But you have Hestermeyer’s diary to help you, so you won’t make the same mistakes he did. And I can help you too. So can Anna.’

  Ellie shook her head fervently. ‘No, not Anna. I don’t want her getting hurt.’

  ‘The Enemy tried to kill her today,’ said Seth, getting off the bed and crouching down in front of Ellie. ‘She deserves to know the truth.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because she loves you.’

  Ellie turned her head aside. She opened her mouth to protest, but instead found herself thinking of the time that Anna had looked after her in the orphanage, when she’d had a fever. She remembered Anna chasing orphans from the bedroom to give Ellie peace and quiet, and how she’d cleaned vomit from Ellie’s hair.