Phoenix Rising

by Bryony Pearce

  The girl blocked with her own elbow and swung her left fist. Toby spun backwards, trying for the leg sweep, but the girl was also spinning, her coat flying behind her with a snap. Both missed.

  They paused, panting and glaring at one another. Toby held Nix up and the girl held her knife in one hand, weaving it back and forth in front of her face. The other fist was closed in front of her sternum, protecting herself.

  “Who are you?” Toby gasped, but the girl shook her head.

  Then they were moving again. She slashed for Toby’s throat, but Nix flew, blocking her attack. Toby pressed against her knife and shoved her backwards. Then he lashed out with his feet, trying to plant his heel in her stomach. The girl shifted, but he caught her side. Air flew out of her, then she was already hacking towards his ankle. Toby moved, but not fast enough; pain burned and his blood dripped on to the deck. He hopped, sparing a quick glance downwards. A line of scarlet ran down his shin. He put his injured leg behind him, and raised Nix high, pinning his eyes on the delicate fingers that held the knife.

  Polly flapped anxiously and the cat yowled, swiping upwards with wickedly sharp claws.

  As Toby glanced towards his parrot, the girl feinted. Toby went to block, only to find a fist hammering into his kidney. It hurt, but he’d survived worse from Peel. He was lucky she had missed his injured rib. Somehow Toby managed to turn his lurch into a low block, caught her next slice on his leather glove, put his back to her and planted his elbow in her sternum.

  The girl’s howl of rage was silenced by the outrushing of air. As she bent, Toby pressed his advantage by turning and hammering his fist into her side. Then he leaped backwards, leaving her to totter into the hull and lean on the wall, retching.

  Toby gave her space. “You know who I am. Tell me who you are.”

  The girl curled her lip, panting heavily. “I’m the one who’ll be taking you in.”

  “Then tell me your name.” Toby pointed Nix towards his feet.

  Eventually the girl shrugged. “My name is Ayla and I am second in command on the Banshee.” She raised her knife. “And seeing as you’re so fascinated by names, this is Boudicca.” She gestured with her blade to point to the cat. “I’ve been easy on you so far, but not any more. Will you come quietly?”

  “Not likely.” Toby flicked Nix up and danced out of her reach once more. “How come you’re second in command? You’re no older than me.”

  “We don’t have kids on the Banshee,” Ayla sneered. “I’m as good as the old men here and I’m second in command because the captain trusts me.” She showed her teeth in a blistering smile. “I am her daughter, after all.”

  “I’m no kid,” Toby spat. “Without me the Phoenix is dead in the water. I’m chief engineer.”

  “Sure you are.” Ayla smirked. “That’s why you’re skulking around over here.”

  Toby flushed and shoved Ayla so hard that Nix clanged into the wall. Ayla staggered and, as a flash of lightning lit the sky above them, she lost her footing and her head smacked into a protruding chock with a dull thud.

  She slid to the ground.

  The water in the passageway was flowing steadily. Toby gasped as icy rain filled his lungs.

  Ayla rolled face down, the water came up to her ears and her coat began to float.

  “Damn.” Toby put Nix back in his belt, rolled her over and dragged her into a sitting position, his fingers numb on her narrow shoulders.

  The cat hissed, trying to drive Toby away.

  Toby caught her coat and dragged it until it hung over the chock to hold Ayla up. Her chin sagged on to her chest and her hair dropped in front of her, the beads chiming.

  “She’ll be fine.” Polly landed on his shoulder and poked him with her beak. “We have to get Hiko and hide until the storm eases enough to escape back to the Phoenix. This way.” Polly’s claws were sharp on his shoulder as she shifted her weight then launched herself into the air.

  Toby raced along the passageway after her, splashing through the rising water.

  The passageway ran into a hatch and terminated in a ladder. Almost blinded by the rain, Toby looked up. His sodden parrot drooped on the top rung.

  “Go on,” he encouraged her.

  Polly heaved a sigh and hopped on to the deck. There was no cry of warning from above.

  “All clear.” She didn’t land on his shoulder, so much as tumble there in her own small gale. Toby helped her get a grip on his shirt then started up. “How far from the bridge am I? Will Nell see me through a window?” He had to shout now above the wind and rain.

  “It’s a risk,” Polly agreed. “So move fast.”

  As soon as Toby put his head above the passage his breath was stolen by the gale and replaced by rain. He rolled on to the deck and lay flat; if he stood, there was a good chance he’d be blown overboard.

  The sky above rumbled with a deep boom of thunder that shook the deck beneath him and immediately the clouds lit with a bright fork that scalded his eyes.

  Polly bit his ear. “You can’t stay there.”

  Toby struggled on to all fours and began to crawl past the bridge.

  Polly scrabbled beneath him, claws ticking on the deck. Her feathers were so wet that Toby could almost see her metal casing gleam beneath them.

  Just then the Banshee tilted as a great wave tipped her and Toby was rolled towards the rail. A coil of rope tangled his legs and he swung round, cracking his bruised shoulders on a cannon and coming to rest against a pyramid of ammunition. He tangled his fingers in the net that held it in place and scrambled to his knees again.

  His roll had actually brought him closer to the other side of the bridge. This time he scuttled from cannon to cannon, taking advantage of the netting to provide handholds as the ship pitched. The grappling hooks holding the Phoenix in place creaked as the cables stretched to their limit.

  As Toby rolled beneath another muzzle, his mind returned to the girl he had left in the passageway. When she woke she would be searching for him. Was she still unconscious? Then he rounded the bridge, saw the cage and forgot about her altogether.

  The guard he had seen questioning Nell was crouched against the forecastle wall, gripping on to the bars.

  Hiko was huddled as far away from him as possible. Toby could already see bruises blooming on his arms and legs, and his right eye socket shone with a swelling purple lump.

  The guard had his head down and his collar up, trying to protect himself from the worst of the weather.

  “They shouldn’t have left him out in this,” Toby growled.

  “It works out better for us.” Polly wound her way into his shirt. “Even if the guard calls the alarm, who’ll hear him?”

  Toby nodded.

  “Are you sure about this?” Polly nipped his chest, but Toby ignored her and drew Nix.

  Remaining low to the deck, Toby crept towards the cage. He got within a body length of the guard before the man looked up.

  His bloodshot eyes widened and he jerked to his feet, reaching for the knife in his waistband. Toby leaped with Nix held above him.

  The guard’s knife clattered on to the gangway as Toby crashed into him and he yelled, but Toby smashed Nix’s pommel into his mouth. Toby felt a crunch as teeth shattered under his fist then he grabbed the man and rolled him away from the cage. Polly landed on the cage, chirruping at Hiko.

  The Banshee rolled again and Toby and the guard slid together, kicking and yelling, towards the rail. Toby wriggled an arm free and bashed the guard with Nix until his grip on Toby loosened. Then Toby jerked free, grabbed the muzzle of the cannon and kicked the guard as hard as he could towards the railing.

  The guard clawed at Toby but, with a look of horror on his face, he crashed into the barrier in front of the cannon and flew overboard. Toby’s eyes fixed on the guard’s with dawning horror as the man plummeted into the poisonous salt. Toby turned his face away as a car bonnet knocked him below the waves. The junk closed over the man’s head as though he had never been. />
  Panting heavily, Toby crawled back to Hiko’s cage. The boy was crouched in front of the door, his hands wrapped around the hinges, staring at Polly.

  “The girl says they’re going to fire me from a cannon,” he said.

  “No, they won’t.” Toby examined the door. It was secured with a thick brass padlock. “Do you know where the keys are?” he shouted.

  “The girl has them.”

  “Great.” If only he’d searched the girl before he’d left her. “What do you think, Polly?” He rattled the door. “Have I got time to take these hinges apart?”

  Polly cocked her head at the screws. “Get moving. Lucky you’re still wearing your tool belt.”

  Toby pulled up his shirt and selected a Phillips screwdriver. He squinted into the rain, and forced the shaft into the rusting head of the screw. Agonizingly slowly, the screw started to lift. “Can you get the rest out with your fingers, Hiko? I’ll start on the next one.”

  Hiko struggled to get a grip on the wet metal, but eventually wrapped his ragged shirt around his fingers and nodded.

  Toby began to unscrew the next hinge. As he worked a crack of thunder boomed overhead. Toby paused, waiting for the lightning, but it was three counts before it lit up the deck.

  “The storm’s passing.” His eyes widened.

  “The crew will be back on deck soon.” Polly hopped up and down.

  Toby shoved his screwdriver back in his belt and caught the screw with numb fingers. It slid between his thumb and forefinger, slicing the skin, but he ignored the stinging pain and forced it to turn. Hiko’s screw dropped on to the deck at the same time that Toby’s pulled free.

  “Step back,” he said as he caught the sides of the door and started to lift.

  The metal was slippery and almost too heavy for him. He groaned, certain he could hear booted feet behind him.

  “Hurry, Toby,” Hiko whispered.

  Toby nodded and strained. Finally the door lifted free, swivelled on the padlock and tilted to one side, leaving just enough room for Hiko to squeeze through.

  Toby grabbed his hand and pulled him out, then started towards the nearest grappling hook that ran right over to the Phoenix’s pylon.

  “Too late,” Polly shrieked, as the door to the bridge slammed open. “Hide.”

  “We can make it,” Toby cried, but Hiko was already running towards the stern.

  Toby reached for him and missed. The boy slid under a cannon and vanished into the shadows beneath. Toby darted after him. “I’m too big to get in there.” Polly flew at his side. “Where can I go?”

  “There.” She indicated a box sticking out from the decking just a few steps away from Hiko’s hiding place. Toby slid into its shelter, just as someone began to shout.

  Feeling desperately exposed he looked about him. He caught Hiko’s eye and gestured to the wire linking the two ships, but Hiko shook his head and shrank further into the darkness. Toby clenched his fists. He could make the rope if he ran, but he wouldn’t have time to drag Hiko with him.

  “Find him!” The voice was Nell’s.

  Hiko’s empty cage had given them away.

  TEN

  The Banshee’s wail started up and Toby clamped his hands over his ears. The sound was even worse on the host ship than it had been on the Phoenix.

  Toby crouched as small as he could. He didn’t think it would take them more than a minute to find him, but somehow no one came near. They were searching around the trebuchet, the lifeboats, the sunken gangways, but no one thought to look on the bare stern.

  The Banshee’s wail cut off and Toby pressed his back against the cupboard that sheltered him.

  “What’s happening?” Toby whispered hoarsely.

  Polly took a chance and glided to the rail. Toby held his breath until she returned.

  “Your father is on his way over, on Birdie.”

  Toby clenched his fists. “We can’t let him board.”

  “I don’t think we have a choice,” Polly muttered, as the Banshee’s winches were lowered. “We just have to hope that he has a plan to get off this ship as well as on it.”

  “He won’t leave without me. And Nell can’t hand me over. It’ll be a battle. He’ll be killed.” Tears filled Toby’s eyes. “What have I done?”

  Polly crawled under his arm. “It isn’t over till the swan sings,” she whistled. Then she nudged him until he peered around the stoop.

  “Look, most of the pirates are waiting for your father to arrive. They aren’t looking for you any more.”

  “Great.” Toby pulled back again. “But now we can’t leave.” He leaned his head back. His bruised rib throbbed painfully. Toby listened, utterly miserable, as Birdie was hoisted over the side of the Banshee. Then Nell laughed as his father sprung on to the enemy’s deck.

  “Where’s my son?” he roared.

  “I take it you have the coordinates.”

  “Of course. Where’s Toby?”

  “You get him after I get the coordinates. Come with me to the bridge.” A pause. “Just you, Barnaby.”

  “Not a chance.”

  Toby groaned. Marcus was there, too.

  “Where the captain goes, we go.”

  Toby ground his teeth. “That’s right, Marcus, you tell her.”

  “And what do you think you can do against my whole crew?” Nell’s voice held a sneer.

  “We don’t care.” Amit. Which meant that the captain had brought Ajay as well. Toby pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You aren’t taking our captain off alone. He stays with us, or we go with him.” Their feet thudded on the gangway as they climbed from Birdie.

  “Such loyalty. I see you haven’t managed to train your men to follow orders, Barnaby. Fine, come with me to the bridge … all of you.”

  Amit, Ajay and Marcus – three pirates he thought of as brothers, and his father. Toby hoped that they had an excellent plan.

  Silence fell on the deck of the Banshee and Toby clutched Nix on his knee. What was going on? Toby closed his eyes. While they were still inside, whatever the captain was doing had to be working. Didn’t it? He banged his head on the cupboard in despair, scraping his ear on what felt like a catch. Curiosity made him turn to see a door at his back, too small for a person to fit inside. “What’s this, Pol?” he whispered.

  Her processor whirred. “On a previous Destroyer class it would have been part of the steering mechanism. I’m sure Nell has made adjustments, but I’d still bet that it has something to do with the steering.”

  Toby’s eyes lit up. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “I doubt it,” Polly snapped.

  Toby flicked the screwdriver out of his tool belt and spun it around his fingers. Then he opened the small hatch and got to work.

  The abrupt slamming of the bridge door made him freeze.

  “I thought you felt more for your son than this,” Nell was shrieking. “You tried to fool me? Did you forget who I am?”

  “I know who you are.” His father’s voice was low. He was trying to calm her down. “Don’t hurt Toby.”

  Toby exhaled. They had a chance. If his father hadn’t brought the real coordinates, Nell might send him back to the Phoenix to fetch them.

  “You thought you could have both your son and the solar panels,” Nell was saying.

  Toby smiled grimly. “That’s right,” he muttered.

  “Stupid, arrogant man.” Papers flew by Toby, bundling over the stern like pale birds. Nell had tossed them to the wind. “Were any of those pages real?”

  “Some. You have to admit, it was worth a try.” His father was attempting to be charming. Toby decided to keep doing his own job as long as he could and switched from his screwdriver to his pliers.

  “Not really.” Nell tapped a foot. “See, now I get to destroy the Phoenix, kill your son and take the real coordinates from the ruins of your ship which, frankly, I was planning to do anyway.” Her voice was a scream as she addressed her crew. “Take them.”
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  “Oh no.” Toby looked up again, his fingers numb on his tools. On his shoulder Polly lurched from one foot to the other.

  “Wait.” Marcus’s voice. “I’m a damn good forger, was nearly hanged for it when a client gave me up. How did you know the coordinates were fake?”

  An uneasy quiet fell on Toby’s ears and he pocketed his pliers.

  “Easy,” Nell answered eventually. “The coordinates you gave, the place you tried to tell me there are sunken solar panels? I’ve been there.” Toby heard, in her voice, the ghost of a long-buried memory. “There are no solar panels. There’s nothing there worth having at all. At least, not since the Banshee left.”

  Toby shuddered.

  Marcus grunted. “Damn. Can I show you something before your crew finishes us off?”

  Toby leaned carefully around the side of the box. Marcus was handing Nell a flask.

  “What’s this?” Liquid sloshed as Nell shook the offering. “You buying me a drink, sailor?”

  “Not a drink. Open it.”

  Toby pulled back and pictured Nell unscrewing the cap and putting the flask to her nose.

  “Oil.” Greed was definitely there.

  Toby smiled grimly. “I reckon I made enough mess, what do you say, Polly?” He sat back.

  Polly peered over his shoulder. “Put the hatch back and they won’t even know why they can’t steer any more.”

  “Right.” Toby closed the door carefully and screwed it shut.

  “We hit lucky during a recent salvage operation.” His father was speaking now. “The oil is in barrels on the Phoenix. But there’s a lookout in the crow’s nest watching us. Anything happens and my second in command has orders to mix the oil with sand.”

  “Clever.” Polly whistled and Toby nodded.

  “You wouldn’t,” Nell gasped.