Orphans of the Tide

by Struan Murray

  ‘I’ll talk to her,’ she said. ‘To make things right. But I’m not telling her. I have to keep her safe.’

  ‘She wants to help you, Ellie.’

  Ellie clenched her fists. ‘But you saw what she was like when she thought you were the Vessel. What if . . . what if she can’t even look at me?’

  She tucked in her legs, hugging them tight. Tiny drops of bright blue were spattered across her bare arms, from when she and Seth had knocked over a tin of paint while playing with the net-cannon. An awful thought occurred to her.

  ‘You’re not going to leave, are you?’ she said.

  ‘No,’ said Seth.

  ‘You could, though, you know? I’d understand.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ said Seth firmly.

  Ellie managed a weak, grateful smile.

  ‘So what do we do now?’ said Seth.

  Ellie thought awhile, then shrugged. ‘Like you said. We figure out a way to stop the Enemy. Before . . .’ She took a deep breath. ‘Before he can kill me.’

  From the Diary of Claude Hestermeyer

  I didn’t wait to hear what Thomas had to say. I left the hall, and the university. I left behind my colleagues and my study and my life.

  I walked through the City I loved, as calmly as I could, absorbing myself in the majestic grey buildings and the towering statues, drinking in the smells of the sea. In the Markets of the Unknown Saint I passed that charming young Killian Hargrath, who had grown up on the same street as me and had recently joined the Inquisition. He bowed and wished me a good evening and I did likewise, thinking to myself that if he knew the truth, he would arrest me without hesitation.

  The same was true of my family. We had never been close, and I was sure they would turn me over if they thought there was money in it for them. I was a wanted criminal now.

  ‘At least they don’t know I’m the Vessel,’ I said, shivering in a cold alley by the Oystery.

  ‘Yes,’ the Enemy agreed. ‘Well, until they find your diary.’

  A chill gripped my chest. ‘No!’ How had that slipped my mind? ‘It’s still in my office!’ I cried.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said the Enemy, shaking his head sadly. ‘Well, you’re not going to be able to get it now.’

  I paced up and down the alley. If I didn’t do something, my secret would be revealed to the whole City. I had to buy myself more time.

  ‘I’m not going to get it,’ I said. ‘You are.’

  The Enemy smiled. ‘Are you sure you want me to do that?’

  ‘Yes – get it! Now!’

  ‘Fine,’ he said. And just like that, he pulled my diary from behind his back. ‘Here you go.’

  I took it from him eagerly, pressing it to my heart.

  ‘Though I wouldn’t be too relieved,’ said the Enemy. ‘They’d already read it.’

  My stomach lurched as if the ground had vanished from under me. ‘No . . . no they can’t have done.’

  ‘They raided your office for the money, and found the diary on your desk. Pretty foolish place to leave it, if you ask me.’

  ‘No, they can’t! They can’t know I’m the Vessel!’

  But even as I said this, a bell somewhere began to toll, somewhere high, high above, at the peak of the City.

  The bell of the Inquisition.

  His Name

  Ellie stumbled down the orphanage corridor. Her coat was like a curtain of lead wrapped round her, yet she felt if she removed it her body would fall to pieces. Her legs could barely keep her upright, but she had to keep going. She couldn’t leave things with Anna the way they were.

  She paused at the entrance to the games room and saw Anna sitting in her usual armchair. Her jaw was clenched, her eyes red. The other orphans were keeping their distance.

  The floorboards seemed to sway beneath Ellie’s feet, like the rope bridges at the Oystery. She steadied herself on the back of Anna’s chair. She could hear Anna’s loud, angry breathing.

  ‘I don’t want to talk to you, Ellie,’ Anna said, staring straight ahead. Her voice was low and hoarse.

  ‘Anna, I . . .’ Ellie’s lips were dry and her mind was messy. ‘I’m sorry about what I said.’

  Anna wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m done with being lied to. I’m done with you treating me like a child.’ A tear fell down her cheek.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ellie said weakly. ‘I was only trying to protect you. Because –’ she drew in a deep breath – ‘I love you. You’re my best friend.’

  Anna crossed her arms fiercely. ‘Well you’re not mine.’

  Ellie’s heart twisted. She picked up the clockwork mouse lying by Anna’s foot. She wound the key, then held it up high. A hush fell over the room.

  ‘Five pennies!’ Ellie cried. She hurled the mouse at the floor and the orphans gave chase. The walls resounded with the sound of hammering footsteps and high-pitched, ghoulish squeals.

  Only to Ellie the noise was a tinny, distant ringing, somewhere in the back of her mind. She knelt down, and clutched Anna’s hand.

  ‘I’m the Vessel,’ she said.

  Anna looked at her, her eyes wide, the anger gone from her face. She stared at Ellie for many moments. Ellie’s hand trembled in Anna’s. They were oblivious to everything but each other.

  ‘Please,’ Ellie mumbled. ‘Please say something.’

  Anna’s hand fell from Ellie’s, then her gaze did too. She swallowed, and frowned, and looked down at her lap. A sob pressed painfully against Ellie’s chest.

  ‘Anna?’ she whispered.

  The room had gone quiet again. A matron was standing in the doorway, looking from Ellie to Anna.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she said. ‘Anna, is something the matter?’

  Anna blinked. She looked at the matron, then back at her lap. The other orphans watched with wide, worried eyes.

  Look at me, Ellie thought. Please look at me.

  Anna frowned. She took a deep breath.

  She reached out her hand and took hold of Ellie’s.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘Nothing’s the matter.’

  Ellie smiled, then found that tears were streaming down her face. It was as if a tightly wound valve in her chest had come undone. Anna’s hand felt so good on hers, as warm as summer sunlight.

  Ellie glanced around, and noticed the other orphans were watching her with open mouths. She realized how strange she must appear to them, still damp from the sea and smelling of the sewers, her face puffy from crying. She shivered, and a horrible thought scuttled into her mind. What if they knew? What if they could see? She pulled her coat round herself. Her breathing heaved out of rhythm.

  A hand tugged at her arm, and Anna led her swiftly from the games room. Ellie shuffled after her like an awkward ghost.

  ‘Come on,’ Anna whispered. ‘Let’s find somewhere quiet for you to sit. There must be an empty bedroom.’

  She led Ellie along the corridor, flinging bedroom doors open and shoving her head inside, only to be greeted by laughter or shouting or sleepy protests.

  Anna growled. ‘What are they all inside for!’

  While Anna opened more doors, Ellie let go of her hand and drifted further along the corridor, drawn towards one door in particular. She heard a squeak of hinges behind her.

  ‘Anna, Ibnet’s been eating paint again!’ came Fry’s voice. ‘I just caught him!’

  There was a mumbled complaint, like someone talking with their mouth full. Fry’s head poked out of the door.

  ‘Oh look, it’s Ellie! Can we have a go in your underwater boat now?’

  Anna shoved Fry back inside and shut the door.

  Ellie reached out, running her fingers down the door of her old bedroom, down the carving of the boy and girl in the boat.

  ‘Ellie?’ Anna called from along the corridor. ‘What are you doing? I don’t think you should go in there – you never go in there.’

  But Ellie had already turned the handle, and was stepping inside.

  The bedroom had been left largely intact, t
hough both the beds had since been made, the sheets lying uncreased and unfolded for three years. The walls were different too. Once, they’d been covered in drawings; now there were just nails sticking from the stone.

  The bed on the left had a small pile of books on top and a quilt blanket with little whales stitched on to it. Carved into the end of the bed was a name.

  Ellie

  The bed on the right had a box of chipped pencils and chalk shoved underneath. A dried paintbrush lay beside it, its splayed bristles coated in green paint.

  ‘Come on.’ Anna tugged at Ellie’s sleeve. ‘You don’t have to be in here. It’ll only upset you.’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ said Ellie. She deserved to be upset.

  There was a quiet rustle of fabric.

  Ellie looked down at the bed on the right. She covered her mouth with both hands.

  The sheets shifted and squirmed. They had swollen like bread in an oven, and now a bundle of a person lay inside them.

  ‘Ellie?’ said a tiny, pained voice. He sounded thirsty.

  ‘I’m here,’ said Ellie, taking a step towards the bed, reaching out a trembling hand. ‘I’m here.’

  ‘Where are you?’ said the voice.

  ‘Ellie?’ Anna said fearfully, gripping Ellie’s sleeve.

  ‘I’m here,’ Ellie said again.

  ‘Where are you?’ said the voice. ‘Why aren’t you here?’

  ‘I am here,’ Ellie pleaded. The shape in the sheets rolled over, and Ellie heard a slight tinkling of metal. She crawled on to the end of the bed.

  ‘Ellie?’ Anna sounded terrified. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I’m cold,’ said the voice. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘I’m here,’ Ellie moaned. She reached out to touch the person beneath the sheets, but, as she did so, the mound seemed to collapse in on itself, and the sheets were flat again.

  ‘No!’ Ellie mumbled. She grabbed at the sheets and a cold hand reached back out, clutching her wrist so hard she screamed.

  ‘You weren’t here,’ Finn hissed, rising from the sheets with wide, piercing eyes. Ellie slapped his hand away and staggered backwards off the bed. Anna stopped her from falling.

  ‘You,’ Ellie spat. ‘Get out. Get out of his bed!’

  ‘Ellie, who are you talking to?’ Anna whispered.

  Ellie gripped Anna’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘He can’t hurt you. He can’t hurt you.’

  Finn laughed, his musical voice filling the tiny bedroom. ‘Can’t hurt her?’ he said, then kicked the footboard of the bed. ‘I can hurt her. Can’t you smell the smoke on your clothes? I can kill her. And when I do, you’ll have failed her. Just like you failed him.’

  ‘Get out,’ Ellie said weakly.

  ‘Do you remember, Nellie?’ Finn said, looking to the ceiling as if lost in thought. ‘His little cries of pain, as he lay here suffering?’ His eyes snapped down to her. ‘What am I saying? Of course you don’t. You weren’t here! Do you think he called out for you in those last moments? Do you think he wondered where you were?’

  ‘No,’ said Ellie. ‘I . . .’

  Finn pushed his face into hers. ‘He did, Nellie. Believe me. I see everything. He was so afraid. You couldn’t fix him, so he died. Alone. And afraid.’

  ‘No,’ Ellie moaned. ‘No.’

  ‘But don’t worry,’ he said, straightening up proudly. ‘You don’t need him any more. Because you’ve got me.’

  ‘You’re not,’ Ellie spat through gritted teeth. ‘You’re not my brother.’

  ‘Really? Why, what was your brother called?’

  He tilted his head forward, flashing a devilish smile, the trinkets around his neck jangling. He pointed a finger at the wooden footboard of the bed.

  There, carved into the wood, was a name.

  Finn

  The Pearl

  ‘Ellie, what’s wrong? What just happened?’ Anna said, following her into the workshop.

  Ellie tore off her coat and slumped down by a bench, hugging herself and shivering. ‘He’s being a beast, a beast,’ she said.

  ‘What’s going on?’ said Seth, appearing from behind a bookshelf.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Anna, her voice more high-pitched than usual. ‘We were in her old bedroom and she started shouting – I think the Enemy was in there with us.’

  Seth looked at Ellie. ‘You saw Finn?’

  ‘What?’ Anna frowned. ‘How could she have seen Finn?’

  Seth glanced at Ellie. ‘Finn is the Enemy,’ he said quietly.

  Anna wrinkled her nose. ‘Finn was her brother.’

  Seth’s eyes widened. ‘What?’

  Ellie could feel him watching her. She avoided his gaze, her cheeks prickling.

  ‘Finn was your brother’s name?’ he said.

  Ellie risked a glance up. Seth was looking at her, his eyes full of understanding. Ellie’s stomach coiled, and she rested her head on her knees. She couldn’t bear to look at him.

  Anna sat down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. Ellie drew in a deep, ragged breath, then leaned in close. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘I’m sorry I never told you. I thought you’d . . . I thought you’d hate me. That you’d be afraid of me.’

  Anna gripped Ellie’s shoulder tighter.

  Finally, Ellie found the strength to look up at them. ‘The Enemy calls himself Finn, like he called himself Peter with Hestermeyer.’

  ‘But you said you couldn’t remember your brother’s face,’ said Seth, looking back at Ellie’s bedroom door, ‘and that’s why you have all those drawings. How can you not remember your brother’s face if the Enemy looks like him?’

  Ellie wriggled uncomfortably. ‘I’ve started to think that the Enemy’s version of Finn is, well, a lie.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Anna.

  ‘Well, everyone always says that my brother’s nose was like mine.’ She touched her nose for emphasis.

  Anna nodded authoritatively. ‘They were both bent at a funny angle.’

  ‘And they say our hair was the same colour. But the Finn I see now, his nose is straight, and his hair is like the colour of gold, not old straw like mine. I think the Enemy shows me – what’s the word? – an idealized image of Finn. That’s why I’ve been doing those drawings. To see if I can remember my real brother. But I can’t. All I see is the Enemy.’

  Ellie stared at the floor. ‘Anyway. None of that matters, I suppose.’ She looked at Seth. ‘We’ve got three days to find a way to prove you’re not the Vessel.’

  ‘Three days?’ Anna yelped. ‘Why?’

  Ellie grimaced. ‘Hargrath knows I’ve been helping Seth. He’s given me three days to turn him in, or else he’s going to make me suffer too.’

  Anna let go of Ellie’s arm and chewed her thumbnail.

  ‘It does matter, though,’ said Seth sombrely, fixing his eyes on Ellie.

  ‘What?’ said Ellie.

  ‘The Enemy must have a reason for looking like your brother. And maybe, if we knew that reason, we could find a way to beat it.’

  Ellie opened her mouth to protest, but Seth held up a hand.

  ‘I don’t think anything’s going to convince the Inquisition that I’m not the Vessel. But –’ Seth smiled tentatively at them both, trying not to look too pleased with himself – ‘I found something while you were out.’

  He raced up into the library.

  Anna huffed. ‘Nothing good ever came out of a library. He’s picked up bad habits from you.’

  ‘I was so pleased when I realized it!’ came his excitable cry from above. ‘Most people wouldn’t, I don’t think.’

  Anna rolled her eyes. ‘He gets that from you too.’

  Ellie gave a tiny laugh, and something in her chest loosened ever so slightly.

  Seth hurtled down the spiral staircase, holding Hestermeyer’s diary.

  ‘Look,’ he said, pointing to the numbers at the bottom of each page. ‘Eight pages are missing.’

  Ellie to
ok the book from his hands. ‘That’s odd.’

  ‘You probably tore them out by mistake,’ said Anna dismissively.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ replied Ellie, inspecting the binding. There weren’t even any scraps of paper left under the stitching, as there always were when a page was torn out of a book. It was as if they’d simply vanished.

  ‘Well, who took them then?’ said Anna.

  ‘What if it was the Enemy?’ said Seth.

  Ellie felt a flash of memory. For a moment, she thought she might be sick.

  ‘But why would it do that?’ said Anna.

  Seth tapped his knuckles against the book. ‘Because this diary is the only reliable record about being the Vessel, right? Hestermeyer said at the beginning that he was going to write down everything he learned. What if the Enemy took the pages because they contained something it didn’t want Ellie to find out?’

  Anna grabbed the open diary and squinted at it. Ellie rubbed her face, over and over.

  ‘Ellie, do you remember what was written here?’ Seth asked gently.

  Ellie shook her head. ‘I don’t remember reading those pages at all. I’d never even noticed they were missing.’

  ‘Could the Enemy have taken them, in response to a wish you made?’

  Ellie shivered, like cold water was filling her lungs. She nodded, embarrassed and ashamed.

  ‘Three years ago, there was a new matron working in the orphanage. She found a pile of my brother’s old drawings in the art room. She threw them out. She didn’t know what they were. So I . . . I asked Finn –’ Ellie looked up at Seth and Anna. ‘I asked the Enemy to get them back for me.’ She folded her arms. ‘I never worked out what he did in response.’

  Seth leaned forward. ‘Ellie, listen. If the Enemy used a whole wish just to get rid of those pages, whatever was in them must be important.’

  Anna lifted herself up on to the workbench, kicking her heels against the side. ‘Can’t you just make a wish to bring them back?’

  ‘We can’t give him more power,’ said Ellie. ‘Every time I ask him for help, he gets stronger and I get weaker.’