Orphans of the Tide

by Struan Murray

  She stared at the picture a while longer, but her thoughts were thick like custard. She coughed, and Anna hurried over with the glass of water.

  ‘How did Peter Lambeth die?’ said Seth, still looking at the diary.

  Ellie hobbled over to him, sipping the water. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Hestermeyer never says.’

  ‘Maybe that’s what’s in the missing pages,’ said Seth. ‘Do you think maybe the way he died was similar to your brother? Do you think he blamed himself for what happened to Peter, like you do with –’

  ‘SHUT UP!’

  A stab of anger surged up through Ellie’s body and she hurled her glass at Seth. It fell short and bounced off a pile of books without shattering. The three of them stared at it as it rolled in a small circle.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ellie said, her eyes wide. ‘I don’t know why I did that.’ The anger ebbed from her chest, replaced with a horrible shame. She sank to her knees. ‘I’m so sorry, Seth.’

  Seth hurried over to her. ‘It’s all right,’ he said softly. ‘It’s fine, really.’

  ‘It’s not fine,’ Ellie said, as Anna rubbed her back. ‘I’m so tired,’ she said, and she felt a sudden urge to cry. ‘Why am I so tired? He didn’t grant my wish!’

  ‘We’re going to find a way to stop it,’ Seth said. ‘We’re going to find a way to fix you.’

  Ellie frowned, staring at her hands. They were so pale, nearly the colour of fish meat, apart from a few tiny brown freckles. She wondered if her brother’s hands had been freckled too.

  She gave Anna and Seth a weak smile, and they smiled back, then started chattering about provisions for the voyage.

  Ellie looked down at her ragged fingernails. She had a vague memory that someone had used to tell her off for chewing them, but couldn’t remember who. Had it been her brother? She closed her eyes tightly and tried to think back, to remember him – the real him. But as she did, her chest turned painfully cold, and all she could see was his empty bed.

  How would they fix her? The only part she needed was gone.

  Finn

  They spent the rest of the day planning their escape from the City. Anna took Fry and Ibnet down to the docks, searching for a suitable boat to ‘acquire’, and using Ellie’s small allowance to buy enough dried fruits and smoked fish to last a month at sea. All Ellie could do, meanwhile, was lie in an exhausted heap in the workshop. At times her body felt like it was made from rock and iron. At other times, like it was made from nothing at all.

  She awoke that night painfully thirsty. Her heart was thudding like she’d just sprinted up a hill. She groaned in irritation at her own body – how could she be so awake in the middle of the night when she had spent the day half asleep? She pulled a blanket round her shoulders and staggered into the workshop to get some water.

  ‘Hello, sister.’

  Finn sat cross-legged and barefoot by the front door, beneath the stuffed sunfish. He wore a white shirt and white trousers, and his hair shone silver in the moonlight. He looked like an angel’s wingless child.

  Ellie hobbled over to the sink, ignoring him. She turned on the tap, sipped water from her cupped hands, then dried them on her hair.

  Long strands fell away between her fingers. They too shone silver.

  Ellie gasped in shock, and went to check herself in the mirror. She felt a stab of fear – her hair was noticeably thinner. She thought she could see the paleness of her scalp underneath.

  ‘How are you doing this?’ she moaned.

  Finn crawled over to her on all fours. She could smell him, somehow. Sweet and clean, like freshly laundered clothes. He peered into the mirror, admiring their reflections. He was rosy-faced, with a new layer of puppy fat on his cheeks, his hair arranged in tight, gleaming ringlets. She was pallid, her body skinny and scratched. Beads of cold sweat traced her forehead. Finn smiled.

  ‘Oh, Nellie, you’re not looking too good. Can I help you with anything?’

  ‘Shut up,’ she whispered. She didn’t want to wake Seth by shouting.

  ‘Shut up,’ Finn repeated, in a childish, sing-song voice. ‘Is that all you can say these days? Gosh, you’re really falling apart, aren’t you, Nellie? It’s so sad.’

  Ellie put her hands to her forehead, avoiding her hair. What had she missed? How had he become more powerful, even though he’d never granted her wish to save Hargrath?

  ‘Maybe if you were kinder to me, I’d tell you,’ he said, staring glumly at his feet.

  ‘Talking to you never gets me anywhere.’

  ‘Oh, so you’re just going to ignore me? Again.’ He nodded. ‘I suppose . . . maybe I deserve it? Maybe I deserve it for dying.’

  Ellie pushed past him, heading back to her bedroom.

  ‘But then,’ he continued, fiddling with one of the keys at his neck, ‘maybe I wouldn’t have died if you’d stayed with me like I asked.’

  She turned, and Finn bit his lip, as if wondering whether he’d gone too far. ‘That’s what happened, Nellie,’ he said, holding out his hands. ‘I’m not being mean. That’s just what happened.’

  ‘It wasn’t my fault,’ Ellie said firmly.

  ‘Oh, Nellie. We both know that’s a lie.’

  Ellie clenched her fists, then took a deep breath and kept walking.

  ‘Don’t go, Nellie. I want to talk to you. Don’t leave me again.’

  She ignored him.

  ‘Don’t go,’ Finn repeated. This time, it sounded like a command. The hairs on the back of Ellie’s neck stood up.

  ‘What do you want?’ she said.

  Finn pawed one foot at the ground. ‘Well, first I think you should admit that you’re the reason I’m dead.’

  She swallowed. ‘No.’

  Finn skipped across the workshop with a tinkle of metal.

  ‘Do you remember the way we used to go out in that little rowing boat together, on those summer days when the waves were calm? We’d take a fishing rod, and a net, and a telescope too, and spend the whole day not catching anything, and not caring either. We’d get all red and sunburnt and laugh at how rubbish we were at fishing, and play that board game we’d built together. And then, one time, I thought I saw a blue shark in the water. And I got so excited that I fell in, and you jumped in after me, and I nearly drowned but you rescued me, and then you promised me you’d never let me get hurt. Remember that? Remember you promised you’d never let me get hurt?’

  ‘Finn, what do you want?’ she whispered.

  ‘I told you. Admit it’s your fault.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Because then I can forgive you! Then you can stop beating yourself up all the time. Let’s put this behind us, and get back to the way things were – Finn and Ellie, having fun adventures at sea!’

  She stared at him a long time, and he stared back, unblinking. He gave her a little smile.

  ‘I shouldn’t have left his side for so long,’ she said. ‘But that’s not why he died.’

  ‘I gave up hope, Nellie! Don’t you see? It hurt too much. I needed you. I did.’

  ‘I hate you.’

  Finn looked hurt. ‘You hate your brother?’

  ‘No, I hate you.’

  ‘But I’m –’

  ‘You’re not my brother,’ she said sternly. ‘Your forgiveness means nothing.’

  Finn turned his back on her. ‘What did your brother look like, Nellie? What colour were his eyes?’

  With a stab of panic, Ellie realized she didn’t remember. She clutched the blanket tighter round her shoulders. ‘Green . . . like mine,’ she said uncertainly.

  Finn shook his head. ‘Oh, Nellie.’ He spun back round on his heels, staring at her with bright blue eyes. ‘Your brother’s eyes were blue!’

  ‘Stop that,’ she hissed.

  ‘What? This is what he looked like. Trust me.’

  ‘No . . .’

  ‘And remember the way his left ear was crinkled?’ Finn said, pointing eagerly at the rumpled fold at the top of his ear, poking out b
etween his curls.

  ‘His ear didn’t do that.’

  Finn frowned. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said adamantly, though she wasn’t sure at all.

  Finn laughed, a warm, childish music. ‘He laughed like that though, didn’t he? Didn’t he, Nellie?’

  ‘I . . .’

  ‘You see, you’re better off with me. I’m the only Finn you need.’

  And he skipped forward eagerly and tried to hug her.

  ‘Get off me!’ She shoved him hard.

  There was a jangling of metal and Finn gave a small ‘Oh’ and fell backwards. His skull smacked against the sharp corner of the workbench.

  Ellie gasped. ‘Finn! I’m . . . I’m . . .’

  Finn grunted and hauled himself up on to his elbows. His head drooped, his eyes half shut. A dark patch blossomed on the top of his head. Thick red drops pattered on the floorboards, dripping from the curls of his fringe.

  ‘What were you about to say?’ he whispered. ‘Were you going to say sorry?’

  ‘No,’ Ellie lied.

  ‘Are you going to make it better, then? Will you stop the pain this time?’

  Ellie shook her head, sinking to her knees. The skin on her scalp itched, as if she could feel an echo of Finn’s injury. She scratched it, and more hair came away in her hands.

  ‘I . . . I tried everything to save you.’

  ‘All I needed was you there with me. I was so cold, Nellie. So cold. I just needed you.’ He crawled towards her.

  ‘You can’t know that,’ she whispered. ‘You weren’t there.’

  ‘I’m everywhere, Nellie.’

  ‘I thought I could save him.’

  ‘You’re not Mum, Ellie. I know you try to be – you try so hard. But you’re not.’

  ‘I thought that . . . if I could save you –’

  ‘That you’d prove you’re as clever as Mum was.’

  ‘No,’ Ellie whispered, tasting tears in her mouth. ‘I just wanted him to live.’

  ‘Then why did you leave me?’ Finn said. He took her hand, smearing blood on her knuckles. ‘Do you remember, Nellie? Do you remember promising to keep me safe?’

  ‘No . . . No.’

  She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t remember any of it. Not her brother. Not his laugh nor their days out fishing in their little boat. Not the colour of his eyes. All she had was this boy in front of her.

  ‘Nellie, please. You can have me back – you can have me back forever. But first you owe me an apology.’

  ‘I don’t owe you anything,’ Ellie whispered, but she couldn’t be sure of that either. A terrible pain stung her chest – an agonizing cold that filled up the brittle, empty shell of her body. She was so tired of suffering. She wanted it gone.

  ‘I can help you, Nellie. I can forgive you. I’m your brother. Don’t you want my forgiveness?’

  Ellie sobbed, and with it came a sudden relief. ‘Yes,’ she said, and just saying the word made her feel better. ‘Yes.’

  Finn stared adoringly into her eyes. He pressed his forehead to hers, and she cradled him in her arms. Her dear, loving little brother.

  ‘I’m sorry, Finn,’ she said, crying as the words spilled out. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry I left you alone. I thought I could cure you. It was selfish . . . So selfish. I should have stayed with you, and kept you safe. I should have been there at your side.’

  She trembled, holding him there in the pool of moonlight. She smiled, moving a curl of hair from his face, admiring his rosy cheeks. She felt his head and found it was mended. The bleeding had stopped.

  Ellie laughed. He stared back at her encouragingly, and she thought how sweet it would be once he’d forgiven her. How she would be able to picture the two of them again, in their little boat, her with a net and telescope, and him with his golden hair, and his slightly crumpled left ear, and his brilliant, beautiful blue eyes.

  ‘I forgive you, Nellie,’ said Finn.

  Ellie felt a great warmth sweep into her chest, a joy unlike anything she could ever remember knowing. She laughed and laughed, and tears fell down her cheeks. She held Finn close and stroked his hair, her body untethered, floating up and up towards the great warming sunlight.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, squeezing him tightly.

  But as she said the words, she noticed Finn’s body felt lighter. She wiped her eyes.

  ‘F-Finn?’

  She turned his face towards her, but it was still and lifeless. His body was dissolving, flaking away like ash from a fire. She tried to catch it in her hands, but her fingers passed straight through it.

  ‘Finn? FINN!’ Ellie cried, trying to hold on to him. But there was nothing to hold. His body had no substance any more. Wisps of him curled through the air.

  And then he was gone completely.

  From the Diary of Claude Hestermeyer

  I think this is nearly the end.

  I’ve been a fool. I let it get the better of me.

  Now my body is at its weakest, little more than a paper shell. I can feel a terrible pressure inside my chest, like something yearning to be born. I can barely hold my pen.

  I’m going to let myself be captured by the Inquisition. There is a clocktower near the Great Docks where Peter and I shared many glorious evenings, talking long into the night. I shall go there and try to remember him, then call out until they come to take me.

  But first, I will deliver this diary to the university. If I can ensure it is read by others, then perhaps my suffering will not have been in vain. It is my dearest hope that my story will help future Vessels – that it will teach them things I wish I had known from the beginning. Maybe it will even help them to destroy the Enemy for good.

  The Enemy mocks me as I write these words. Give them your book, it says, but I will hurt them all the same.

  My life has been too brief, and too full of darkness. But, for those wondrous years, I was lucky enough to know a soul as golden and as kind as Peter. I wish I could remember him now. All I have is the Enemy.

  But I believe, one day, this foul god will overreach itself. That it will step into the mind of someone stronger than me. One who can construct a shield from their love. Or even a weapon. And, on that day, the Enemy will know such terrible suffering.

  So I say this to you, dear Vessel, my inheritor: I have faith in you.

  Anna’s Tale

  ‘Ellie?’

  Ellie stared at her empty arms, where her brother had been moments before. Her breathing was loud in her ears.

  ‘Where . . .? Where . . .?’

  She scuttled backwards against a workbench. Her shoulders bunched up almost to her earlobes and her teeth pressed together so hard her jaw hurt.

  ‘Ellie, what’s wrong?’

  Anna was scrambling down from the library, still wearing her clothes from yesterday, her face puffy with sleep. ‘I heard your voice. Where’s Seth?’

  ‘I wasn’t talking to Seth,’ said Ellie. She rolled her head, and as she did, she noticed an odd, crunchy feeling in her neck, like there was gravel between the bones. ‘Something’s . . . different,’ she said, and a trickle of ice water dripped into her heart. ‘I think I just made a very big mistake.’

  ‘What do you mean? Ellie, you’re trembling.’ Anna rubbed Ellie’s bare arms. ‘You’re freezing too! Wait, were you talking to it?’

  Ellie nodded. The whole conversation with Finn played over in her head. ‘For a moment, I loved him. Like he really was my brother.’

  Anna looked like she’d eaten a worm. ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘Because I wanted to. It made the pain go away.’ She rubbed her chest. ‘For a little while.’

  Anna’s brow crumpled.

  Ellie glanced at Hestermeyer’s diary, which lay open on the floor. ‘A parasite feeds off its host – it needs something only the host can give it. I think that’s what it’s been after all this time. That’s the secret in the missing pages.’

  She scooped up the
diary.

  ‘Listen – I’ve been a fool. I let it get the better of me,’ she read aloud. ‘That’s what he says right after the missing pages. I always thought he meant he’d used too many wishes, and made himself too weak. But maybe he realized his mistake was giving his love to the Enemy as if it really was Peter. That’s what the Enemy needed – Hestermeyer’s love for Peter. And my love for my brother.’ Her heart thudded in her throat. ‘And that’s exactly what I’ve given it.’

  Anna picked up Ellie’s blanket and draped it round her shoulders. ‘Listen, you’re still alive,’ she said. ‘So it’s not too late.’

  ‘But I don’t think Hestermeyer lasted long after that. In the last entry, he says he’s going to go to the Clocktower of St Angelos, straight after he gives his diary to the university. And that’s where he died. I probably have a day at most.’

  Anna gave a tiny moan and sat down next to Ellie. ‘Maybe you need to . . . I dunno, take your love away again,’ she said.

  ‘But how do I do that?’

  ‘Well, if the Enemy tricked you into loving it, maybe you just need to point that love back in the right direction – to the real Finn.’

  ‘But I can’t remember him, Anna,’ Ellie said, her voice catching. ‘I can’t see his face, or hear his voice. Every time I try, all I feel is this horrible pain in my chest. I don’t think the Enemy will let me remember my real brother. It’s wanted to replace him this whole time.’

  ‘Well, we need to jog your memory then – what about this?’ Anna picked up a thick, black clay tube with a whale carved on its side. She blew into it, and a wet gurgling sound came out the other end. ‘This was his, wasn’t it?’

  ‘I think so,’ Ellie said vaguely. ‘But I don’t remember him using it.’

  Anna chewed her lip. ‘Well, what about his drawings then?’ Her eyes darted across the workshop and she grinned. ‘You keep them in that trunk, don’t you?’ she said, spotting the metal box by Ellie’s bedroom door. She raced over to it. ‘There you go! All you need to do is look at those pictures, then you’ll remember Finn for sure.’