Orphans of the Tide

by Struan Murray

  Forgotten Myths and Legends

  by

  Claude Hestermeyer and Peter Lambeth

  ‘What is it?’ Seth asked, frowning down at the pages.

  Anna looked at him seriously. ‘I think it’s about you.’

  From ‘Forgotten Myths and Legends’, an unfinished manuscript by Claude Hestermeyer and Peter Lambeth

  The Great Drowning destroyed nearly everything. All that survived were four immense arks – Salvation, Immutable, Revival and Angelus – and the people who lived in them. The legend goes that one of the gods, still sympathetic to humanity, had warned these people that the Drowning was coming, and they had built these arks so they might survive.

  Three of the arks were lost, sunk by storms or perhaps the Enemy. The fourth – the Angelus – came eventually to the Last City, the only human construction that still rose above the waves. The ark itself was pulled to pieces, and used to build new, smaller ships. These then left in search of food, and other islands where the people might grow crops.

  There are many strange tales of what these early explorers discovered. Our favourite is about a farmer called Clara Biswick. She couldn’t write, but told her story to all who’d listen. It was eventually written down and found its way into the university library. Perhaps because Clara was a simple farmer, or a woman, it was never given much thought, and soon gathered dust. But we think it worthy of repeating here.

  Clara and her family had braved the seas to reach the tiny island of Adrastos. They found the soil to be rich, and perfect for farming. By autumn, they’d gathered a generous harvest, and soon were trading goods with passing whale lords and merchant ships.

  One day, Clara was tending the potato field when she heard the sound of her three children shrieking. She raced to the water’s edge, and was met by the sight of an enormous dead shark which had washed ashore. Her children were climbing all over it, prodding its lifeless blue eyes and admiring its many teeth. Clara ordered them down. Then her youngest son started to scream.

  The shark’s skin was expanding, as if it had a huge air bubble inside. Something pushed out from between the shark’s gills, causing Clara to gasp and her children to scream even louder. It was a human hand.

  Clara grabbed her knife and cut into the shark’s side. The children watched in terror as Clara pulled a blood-drenched, naked boy from the side of the shark, with light brown skin and dark blue eyes. He was scared, and shivering, and kept repeating the same sentence over and over again:

  ‘Where are my brothers and sisters?’

  Clara took the boy home, and he was washed and fed and put in a bed, where he slept fitfully. The next day he seemed full of energy, but had no idea how he’d come to be inside a shark. In fact, he didn’t remember anything at all, though Clara said he was ‘remarkably quick-witted’. He was prone to long periods of sullen thoughtfulness when he would stand on the beach, staring out to sea.

  Within weeks, the boy had become a part of the family. He would help with the farm work, the heavy lifting and wood-chopping. He liked to go out fishing in the boat. Clara’s children were especially fond of him, and worked harder too in an effort to emulate him.

  Then, one day, the two youngest children went out fishing without permission, determined to bring back a feast. On the other side of the island, Clara and the boy were hunting a wolf that had been eating their goats. The boy turned to Clara suddenly.

  ‘Your children are in danger,’ he said.

  They raced across the island as fast as they could, but by the time they arrived they found a freak storm battering the coastline. Clara screamed in terror, knowing instinctively that her children were caught inside it. She raced for the other rowing boat, then turned to see the boy, his arms raised towards the sea, his eyes entirely dark blue. He walked steadily into the surf, and the sea thrashed and recoiled, like a wild cat being lashed into the corner of a cage. Later, Clara said that it was as if the sea and the boy had become one, yet that they also seemed engaged in some great war with each other.

  Finally, the sea rose in a tremendous wave that swept across the shore. When the wave subsided, Clara got to her feet, and saw her two sons crawling across the sand, coughing up seawater.

  Of the other boy, there was no sign.

  The Boy Who Got Lost at Sea

  ‘That’s you,’ said Anna, looking at Seth.

  ‘It can’t be,’ said Seth distantly.

  ‘But he could move the water, and he came out of a sea creature, and he said the exact same thing you said the day we found you – “Where are my brothers and sisters?”’ Anna took a deep breath, frantically rereading. ‘He’s exactly like you. Well, except for this “remarkably quick-witted” part.’

  Ellie blinked, reading the words again and again. Finn’s laughter still rang from the rafters – it had changed from a childish giggle to a harsh, hacking laugh.

  ‘It . . . it does seem to be describing you,’ Ellie admitted.

  There was another agonized cry from deep below. Seth and Anna tensed, looking to the door.

  ‘You heard that too?’ said Ellie, and they nodded. ‘Whatever they’re doing to that poor man, they might not be doing it for much longer. We should go while they’re distracted.’

  Ellie put Hestermeyer’s original diary and his manuscript into a waterproof bag made of dried seal intestine. As they crept from the chamber, Ellie spared a final glance for the map on the wall, and the mysterious unlabelled island close to the floorboards, before it was swallowed by darkness.

  They scurried along the corridor as quickly as they dared, down the staircase and through the trapdoor. They huddled together at the top of the stairs. Seth looked down at the sea, closing his eyes. It took him longer this time – Ellie guessed he was distracted by what he’d seen in the manuscript. At last, the waters fell away, and Ellie and Anna carried Seth down the steps. Ellie saw the intense concentration on his face, his brow furrowing as if he were haunted by a nightmare. Then his eyes opened.

  ‘I . . . I can’t hold it,’ he panted.

  They were right at the bottom of the stairs now, on the slimy flagstones. Around them the dark waters rippled, held back only by Seth’s power. Ellie felt a jolt of panic. If the water crashed down on them now it would dash them against the side of the building, or sweep them out to sea.

  ‘You can, Seth,’ she urged him.

  Seth gave a low growl and closed his eyes again. The wall of water trembled. Around Ellie’s ankles the sea rose, soaking her trousers.

  Then it started to sink. Ellie and Anna sighed in relief, then carried Seth up the steps. With a hiss of released breath, Seth relaxed and the wall of water collapsed, smashing against the buildings below them. Seth was shivering, his skin so icy that they had to wait a few moments, warming his hands on the extinguished lamp.

  They crept along a cobbled path by the waterfront, towards an alley that would take them up to Orphanage Street. The wind bit at Ellie’s scalp, parting her hair like an icy knife. On their left rose the Warrens: the cracked husks of three hundred buildings, their rooftops gone and their insides scooped out by fire. To their right, sitting just offshore, was a tall, moonlit castle, with many pointed towers and a squat, circular amphitheatre nestled at its side. It was called Celestina’s Hope, after the first saint, and could only be reached at low tide, by way of a thin line of rooftops that poked above the sea, like a row of huge stepping-stones.

  All of a sudden, Seth stopped. ‘It can’t have been me. In the shark, I mean. Can it?’

  He looked at Ellie, and she thought there was something almost pleading in his eyes.

  Ellie swallowed, staring at her feet. She was finding it hard to think. She pushed her hands deep into her pockets, right down to the seams, and her fingertips brushed something small, and round, and hard.

  She took out the pearl and rolled it in her palm. It jogged something in her memory. Strange, how secretive the pearl was, tucked inside its oyster shell.

  ‘I don’t think you wer
e swallowed by that whale,’ Ellie said. ‘I’ve looked at drawings of whales’ throats. They’re actually quite small – there’s no way they could swallow a person. And even if they could, if you were inside for longer than a few minutes, you’d die of suffocation.’

  ‘But I was inside one,’ said Seth. He marched ahead, his energy seemingly returning. Ellie hurried after, glancing nervously around. The path had led them through a collection of crumbled statues from before the Drowning. It was a forest of stone: a hundred men and women and animals, cavorting motionlessly in the dark. They cast odd, jagged shadows, and Ellie had the strange feeling they might start moving at any moment.

  Seth sat down, leaning against one of the statues, looking out over the sea, and the line of rooftops that led to Celestina’s Hope. ‘I was inside one,’ he said again.

  ‘I don’t think we should hang around here,’ said Anna, eyeing the stone animals all around them. Something tugged again at Ellie’s memory.

  ‘The mural,’ she said.

  Anna frowned. ‘What mural?’

  ‘Seth and I saw it in the sewers when we were coming back from the Oystery. It was of this dead wolf, only there was a woman climbing out of it.’

  Seth looked up at her. His eyes narrowed.

  ‘Who was she?’ said Anna.

  Ellie took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know. But she had a halo round her head. That usually means someone is a saint. But this mural was old, from before the Drowning, before there were saints. Maybe halos meant something different then.’

  ‘Like what?’ asked Seth.

  ‘Well, nowadays people believe the saints protect us,’ said Ellie. ‘But back then, people thought it was the gods. What if that’s what a halo used to mean?’

  ‘But why would a god be coming out of a dead animal?’ said Anna.

  Ellie bit her lip. ‘Isn’t that sort of what the Enemy does? It comes out of the Vessel. Maybe the other gods had Vessels too. Only maybe they waited until the Vessel was going to die anyway, instead of killing them – remember how the wolf in the mural looked really old, Seth? They were probably much nicer, those gods. Why else would the Enemy have drowned them?’

  Seth stood up, watching Ellie warily. ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘I’m saying Anna’s right. It is you in that story. The shark had sea-blue eyes too, just like the whale you came out of.’

  ‘But . . . that happened hundreds of years ago,’ said Seth. ‘I’m not hundreds of years old.’

  ‘Your body isn’t,’ Ellie said, looking him up and down. ‘But what if a part of you is?’

  Seth turned away. ‘So . . . you mean . . .’

  ‘I mean the whale I pulled you out of was a Vessel. Which means that you’re a, well . . .’ Ellie couldn’t bring herself to say the word.

  ‘You’re a god!’ Anna whispered excitedly.

  ‘No,’ said Seth, glaring at Anna. ‘I’m not.’

  ‘But it’s the only explanation that makes sense,’ Ellie said softly. ‘The Enemy wasn’t the only god to survive the Drowning.’

  ‘I’m not a god,’ said Seth, turning angrily to face them. ‘I’m a boy. I’m me.’

  ‘I think you can be both.’

  ‘No!’ Seth cried, and a wave surged over the waterfront.

  ‘Seth, you need to stay calm,’ said Ellie, watching the water spill between the cobblestones by her boot.

  Seth sat down again with a sudden drop. ‘I can’t be . . .’ he mumbled, his chin resting on his chest.

  ‘Why not?’ Ellie asked.

  ‘Because, that means my brothers and sisters . . .’ He looked out to sea, his eyes glistening. ‘That means they’re dead.’

  Seth bowed his head, shaking gently. Ellie took a step towards him, but didn’t know what to do. The sea rumbled. Waves washed against the waterfront. Then the sea growled, and a larger wave crashed over the side. Ellie and Anna hopped aside to avoid getting their feet wet. Seth didn’t seem to care; he shook and shook, and the sea crashed and raged ever more wildly. Massive waves rose high above, far out towards the castle, smashing against each other like monsters battling on the horizon.

  ‘I don’t think it’s safe for him to be this angry near the sea,’ said Anna.

  Ellie knelt down next to Seth. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, anxiously watching the waves. She wished she knew what to say to make him better.

  She clutched his arm. ‘Seth,’ she said.

  His eyes opened, his expression mournful, lost. ‘I don’t even remember their faces, Ellie,’ he said.

  ‘I know,’ she said, thinking of the hundreds of drawings of her brother in her bedroom. ‘I know. But you remember that you loved them, don’t you? It’s obvious you love them, otherwise you couldn’t feel strongly enough to do this.’ She pointed at the raging, furious sea.

  She squeezed Seth’s shoulder, and he looked out to the horizon. He watched the waves, and took deep breaths, and the seas began to settle.

  He was silent awhile. Ellie and Anna sat either side of him, and together they watched the moon drift slowly across the sky.

  ‘What have I been doing all this time?’ Seth said. ‘Have I just been . . . lost at sea?’

  Ellie shrugged. ‘The Enemy moves from Vessel to Vessel. Perhaps you do too? Maybe you’ve been going from one sea creature to the next, looking for your brothers and sisters, for centuries.’

  Seth frowned and stared down at the sea. He let out a deep sigh.

  Ellie glanced into the shadows, and noticed Finn sitting cross-legged beneath a statue, grinning his toothy smile.

  ‘Did you know about this?’ she whispered.

  Finn giggled. ‘Of course!’ he said, rocking back and forth. ‘How else could he move the sea? My brothers and sisters had all sorts of gifts: controlling the weather; creating music out of thin air; causing dead soil to bloom with life. They were very tedious.’

  ‘Is that why you want to kill him?’

  Finn rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t be stupid,’ he said. ‘I want to kill him because he’s putting you in danger. I thought I’d been very clear about that. Besides, if I kill him, he’ll be back again soon enough, bursting out of some rotten dolphin or walrus or whatever.’

  Ellie turned away in disgust. A drop of rain landed on her face, then another. She looked up, and saw dark clouds swirling round the moon.

  ‘We should get home,’ she said. ‘A storm’s on the way.’

  Then Seth grabbed Ellie and Anna by the shoulders.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Anna hissed, putting an arm out protectively in front of Ellie.

  ‘Someone’s coming,’ Seth whispered through gritted teeth.

  Then Ellie heard it too. Footsteps. From along the seafront. Heavy, clomping footsteps.

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Seth. The three of them raced through the forest of statues, hiding behind the flank of a bull.

  Twenty feet away, a man was striding along the water’s edge. He wore the long sealskin coat of an Inquisitor. Ellie could hear Seth and Anna’s quick, wary breathing, like they were ready to run or fight at a moment’s notice. They watched him pass by.

  ‘At least it’s not Hargrath,’ Anna whispered.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Ellie noticed one of the statues turn suddenly in their direction, revealing a wide, demonic smile that shone in the moonlight.

  ‘Yes,’ said Hargrath. ‘That would be most unfortunate.’

  The Shark in the Theatre

  ‘Seth, get away!’ Ellie cried.

  There was a ring of metal as Hargrath’s sword swung towards Seth. Seth leapt aside, and Ellie threw a flash-bang at the ground between them, closing her eyes against the sudden burst of blazing light. Hargrath grunted and pressed his arm to his face.

  ‘Here, Matthews!’ he roared, stumbling haphazardly. ‘I’ve got them!’

  He charged blindly forward, whacking Ellie in the stomach with his flailing arm. She cried out in pain and tumbled over the edge of the sea wall, landing hard on the rooftop below.
Anna leapt down to help Ellie to her feet, and Seth came too, narrowly avoiding another sweep of Hargrath’s sword.

  ‘I told you this was a bad idea,’ piped Finn’s chiding voice. He was also standing on the rooftop. ‘This one’s really got it in for me,’ he added, pointing up at Hargrath. ‘Okay, so I tore his arm off. But in my defence, he was trying to kill me at the time.’

  Hargrath loomed over the edge of the sea wall, raindrops spilling down his greatcoat. There was no way past him.

  ‘Come on, we’ll have to try and lose him in there!’ said Ellie, pointing to the ruined silhouette of Celestina’s Hope. She took Seth and Anna by the hand and raced away across the moonlit rooftops that poked from the sea, vaulting the gaps between them. The skies rumbled, and in the distance was a flash of lightning.

  Seth put a hand to his head, wincing. ‘It’s getting louder. The storm is here.’

  Ellie looked around nervously; if the storm whipped up the sea, it might drown the bridge of rooftops. And she was counting on being able to get back to the City this way, once they’d lost Hargrath in the ruins of the castle.

  ‘That’s a dead end, Lancaster!’ Hargrath yelled as he chased after them, his boots smashing through slate and sending shards spinning into the sea. He was gaining on them: there were three rooftops between them, then two.

  Then one.

  Seth turned to face Hargrath.

  ‘What are you doing?’ yelled Anna.

  ‘Seth!’ Ellie cried.

  Seth raised his arms. Hargrath skidded to a halt, sword held up in defence. His hand was actually trembling, his eyes wide and hate-filled. Then he let out a chilling, anguished howl and charged at Seth, sword raised over his head.

  The muscles in Seth’s arm twitched. Dark patches moved across his skin, like smoke in the wind. A waist-high wave smashed into Hargrath’s side. He screamed in frustration, then was pulled into the sea, vanishing from sight.