“Astrid was on the top bunk, Ayla on the bottom. Astrid was already unconscious. I couldn’t carry both twins and with one of them unconscious and the fire already at the door. I had to choose. So I grabbed Ayla. I hid her in a bush outside the kitchen window. Then I went back for Astrid … but the flames.” She indicated her own body. “I had to let my family burn.” She swallowed. “I heard the soldiers laughing, but they hadn’t spotted us. A neighbour helped us escape. I knew where the Banshee was berthed so I boarded, worked my way up the ranks and here we are.” She pulled her shirt closed. “You still want to work with the man who abandoned his wife?” She looked at Ayla. “Who killed your sisters and your father?”
Toby tore his gaze from Nell to stare at Ayla. Her face looked as though it had caved in.
“Astrid,” she breathed. “I thought she was an imaginary friend. I didn’t remember.”
“You blocked it all out.” Nell lifted her coat and put it back on, closing it over her chest like armour. “You understand now why I hate him? Why I want him to suffer, as we have suffered, and why I will never, ever work with the Phoenix?”
Ayla nodded. Her eyes flickered past Toby’s and down.
“How could you blame me for this? I knew nothing of it.” The deck rang as Barnaby strode forward. “Be reasonable, Nell.”
This time Ayla spun in front of Nell, her sword lifting. “Get off our ship, Captain Ford, while you have the chance.”
Toby touched his mouth with a trembling finger. “It’s over, then,” he murmured.
“How can it be anything else?” Ayla’s back was straight, but her voice was pricked with pain. “After what your family has done to mine.”
Toby shook his head but said nothing. He kneeled by Peel and Barnaby helped him lift the cook.
“Crocker,” Barnaby snapped. The Banshee crew, with no further instructions, allowed Peel’s brother to join his crewmates.
Nell growled. “What are you doing? I never said to let them go!”
Ayla held a hand to her mother’s arm. “Release them, Captain. This time.”
Nell glanced at the bridge and nodded, slowly, exhausted. “This time, Barnaby. But never again.”
“Download complete.” Polly’s squawk rent the air and Toby’s eyes widened.
“Polly!” He looked towards Nell, who was suddenly grinning and rubbing her hands.
“Bring it here.” She nodded to Harris, who entered the bridge and exited with Polly dangling from one hand. If it was possible for a metal bird to look bedraggled, Polly did.
“You gave it a personality, Barnaby, so it’s no use to me.” Nell took Polly from Harris and shook her. Her wings rattled and Boudicca went wild.
“You think you’re the only one to keep your old skills?” Nell continued bitterly. “I’ve hacked the AI’s system and downloaded everything it knows.” Nell grinned and tossed Polly overboard. “I guess it’s a race to those solar panels after all, Barnaby.”
Toby was already running to the gunwale, straining to see if Polly had managed to get herself into a glide.
“Now get the hell off my ship,” Nell screamed.
Toby looked back. Ayla was watching him, her face unreadable. He raised a single hand in goodbye and she dropped her chin in a tiny nod. Then Crocker boosted him into Birdie. The captain dragged Peel in.
“We need to winch ’er,” Crocker shouted as he leaped after them. “Quick before the bitch changes ’er mind.”
“Everyone hold on!” the captain roared. Then he drew his sword, cut through the rope and Toby screamed as Birdie dropped through the air.
TWENTY-EIGHT
A few hours later, Toby sat in the crow’s nest with Hiko at his feet. His eyes were covered by a light sun-gauze, but instead of watching the horizon, his eyes kept returning to Birdie. She had barely managed to get them back to the Phoenix. Her metal casing had been cracked during their brutal smash into the sea and Toby had been forced to bail frantically, his hands peeling from the acid salt, as Crocker and the captain rowed them home.
From habit, he reached a bandaged hand up to locate Polly’s soft feathers. When his fingertips met sun-warmed metal Toby hesitated, then stroked her anyway. She wobbled on his shoulder.
Toby strained to see the Banshee; she was a vanishing dot in the distance, but at least the Phoenix was able to sail in her wake. The lack of junk in the way meant the paddles could move them a little faster. But not fast enough – the Banshee was winning the race to the solar panels.
“They don’t have enough fuel to get them all the way.” Toby stroked her again. “You just wait and see. The Banshee will have to slow down to conserve energy and then we’ll pass her.”
Polly bobbed up and down, wildly anxious. “She set up a program to bypass my firewalls on that piece of trash she called a computer. Where did she even get the batteries? That’s what I want to know.” Polly rubbed her head on Toby’s cheek. “She immobilized me, Toby, or I would have escaped. Honestly.”
“No one blames you, Polly.” Toby stroked her and stared after the Banshee. His eyes supplied the outline of her shape, but he knew that he was seeing what he wanted to see. Although all the sails on the Phoenix were open and the paddles were working at full speed, she couldn’t compete with the engines of a warship.
Toby clenched his fists. Nell was almost out of fuel, running on fumes. He repeated the phrase like a mantra. Soon the Banshee would be dead in the water. She had to be, because if she got the solar panels fitted and found someone to translate the map, she would find the island first.
Hiko laid his head on Toby’s leg, quietly comforting him. Toby forced a smile. “I never said thanks, Hiko.”
“For what?” Hiko looked up.
“For telling the captain where I was. You were right about Ayla all along. She was Banshee through and through.”
“She let you out, you said so.” Hiko fidgeted. “Maybe you’ll see her again.”
Toby nodded. “Probably. As an enemy.” He looked down at the deck again to find Simeon showing D’von how to coil rope. The former dock rat was laughing and his shoulders were relaxed. How quickly he had come to believe that the Phoenix was a safe haven. Simeon whooped and a cheer rose from all around the boat.
Toby grabbed the comms tube. “What is it?” He held the earpiece close to his ear and grinned as the garbled message reached him.
“What’s happening?” Hiko squirmed to his knees. His knuckles were white on the railing, but he looked down nevertheless.
“Dee woke up.” Toby felt like dancing, but instead sat down carefully. “Dee’s going to be all right.” He smiled. “I’m even happy that Peel won’t die on us.” His eyes tracked the celebration below. “Why don’t you go and join them?” he said to Hiko. “You’ve seen me abseil down. You can do it.”
“I-I don’t know.” Hiko looked down again. “Do you really think I can?”
“I know you can.” Toby handed him the rope. “I’ll hold it from the top. If you freeze I’ll just lower you. You’re light enough.”
“All right,” Hiko stammered. He allowed Toby to wrap the rope around his legs and tighten the old leather hand protector that Nisha had found for him. One of Toby’s first, it fitted Hiko perfectly.
“Look at me, not at the deck,” Toby instructed.
Hiko nodded. His teeth were clenched and his hands trembled on the rope. His wide eyes fixed on Toby’s.
“Hold on tight and climb over the railing. You can do it.”
Hiko took a deep breath. Then, in a swift movement, he swung one leg over the crow’s nest, perching on the rail, his hands tight on the rope.
“Now the other one,” Toby said gently. “You’ll be fine. I won’t let you fall.”
Hiko looked down then he swung outwards. Toby held his breath as the younger boy planted his feet perfectly on the main mast. He started to walk down and Toby fed the rope through his hands.
“Halfway there,” Toby shouted. “Keep going, Hiko. You’re a natural.”
<
br /> At the bottom D’von helped a shaking Hiko from the rope.
“I did it.” Hiko’s triumphant cry was almost whipped away by the wind, but it reached Toby and he smiled.
But he felt empty. “Ayla,” he whispered. Then he settled back in the crow’s nest to watch the horizon.
“Who’s a pretty Polly?” Polly nudged his face and Toby looked up, realizing that his attention had drifted. He tightened his gauze and stared. There was definitely a ship in sight – it was not a trick of his eyes.
“It’s the Banshee,” he cried. “I told Hiko we’d catch up. I said, didn’t I?” He grabbed the comms tube. “It’s the Banshee. We’re catching them.”
As his message made its way from the bridge to the crew, renewed activity transformed the deck. Her sails were adjusted and, if anything, the Phoenix flew faster towards their rival.
The Jolly Roger snapped above his head.
“You’re right, Bones, we’re going to make it.” Toby fixed his eyes on the ship. Somewhere ahead Ayla was working with Nell, helping her try and steal the solar panels out from under the Phoenix.
His memory flashed an image of Nell’s scarring. No wonder she had been so angry when Ayla had returned with burns. Toby swallowed. His parents had done that to her; had made her the way she was. Ayla had sisters once – a twin. There had been no need for her to grow up alone. That was the fault of his parents, too. Maybe the Phoenix didn’t deserve the solar panels, or the map to the island.
Guilt squirmed in his belly, sickening him. How could Ayla even begin to forgive? He tore his eyes from the Banshee’s deck. There was no hope for the two of them.
Only then did Toby realize that the Banshee was not alone.
“Polly, do you see that?” Toby leaned as far out of the crow’s nest as he could. “Is the Banshee under attack?”
Polly perched on the rail and her glowing eye grew bigger as the lens focused.
“It’s a St George ship. It must have been on its way to Tarifa to pick up the captain.”
Toby’s breath caught. “They’re fighting our battle.”
“The Banshee is a pirate ship.” Polly cocked her head. “They’re fighting their own battle. You think St George isn’t as keen on capturing Nell as they are Barnaby?”
As the Phoenix chugged closer, the sounds of fighting floated over the sea. Toby’s ears rang with shouts and screams, the boom of cannon, the smash of the Banshee’s trebuchet, and the clash of metal on metal.
“They’ve already been boarded! We have to help them.” Toby grabbed the speaking tube. “The Banshee is under attack from St George,” he screamed.
Below, the cheering intensified.
“We have to help them.” Toby swung from the crow’s nest and raced down the pylon. “What are you doing?” he yelled, dropping to the deck. “We have to help them. They’re losing.”
“Good.” Crocker spat a gob of phlegm on to the gangway. “Hope they all die.”
“No.” Toby ran to the gunwale and gripped it hard. “We can team up and take the St George by surprise. They’re fighting the Banshee so they might not have seen us.”
A large hand dropped on to his shoulder. He looked up into his father’s eyes.
“We have to help them, don’t we?” Toby strained, as if he could reach the Banshee himself. They were close enough now to see pirates on deck and his eye was drawn to two black-coated figures, standing back to back, fighting like whirlwinds.
Captain Barnaby held him still and pinned him with a steady gaze. “Toby, do you really want to put our own crew in danger to help a captain who has promised to kill us the next time we meet? They don’t want our aid.”
“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t help them,” Toby pleaded.
The captain shook his head. “That’s exactly what it means.” He turned back to the crew. “Set a course to bypass the battle. Now we can get those panels.”
“It’s wrong.” But already the Phoenix was turning.
Miserably, Toby began to climb back up the pylon, automatically finding old hand- and foot-holds.
He watched from the crow’s nest until the two warring ships blurred into one and vanished over the horizon. Soon the only thing left to see behind the Phoenix was the junk clogging in their wake.
Ahead, waves were breaking in a pattern that showed Toby something large had sunk just below the surface of the ocean.
“What are our coordinates, Polly?” he asked.
“We should be almost there.” Her glowing eye pulled at him. “Have you spotted something?”
Toby nodded and reached for the speaking tube. “Salvage mission!”
He acknowledged the excited reply and replaced the tube on its hook, but he made no movement as the paddles slowed. Instead he rubbed his stubbled head. He should be running to get to the boiler room, but first he wanted one last look back.
“We haven’t seen the last of the Banshee, Polly, I’m sure of that.”
Toby helped Polly into his shirt, grabbed the rope and jumped. When he was a body length above the crew’s heads, Toby swung outwards. A whoop burst from his chest.
“Let’s get those panels!”
They were alive and free and with the solar panels they would rule the seas.
It was the turn of the Phoenix to rise.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Although it can be lonely in my study, no book is truly written in a vacuum, and it is certainly true that Phoenix Rising would not exist without the wonderful team at Stripes, led by my fantastic editor, Ruth Bennett. It is she who brought Toby and his crew to life. My grateful thanks to Ruth, Emily, Jessie and the team.
Thanks also to my readers, especially those who have bought or borrowed my books then gone on to write reviews or even to contact me with kind words about how my work has affected them. I write for you.
I must also mention my family, who have unlimited patience (although perhaps this cannot be said for the five-year-old), are endlessly supportive and without whom I would probably not be writing for a living. So my thanks and love to Andy, Maisie and Riley – who I thought of most while giving Toby, Ayla and Hiko their personalities.
Thanks also to my friends, who keep me smiling through difficult times and bring the fun in easier ones.
Despite my love for Toby and his crew, 2014 was a hard year, blighted by the death of my mother on July 4th, so final thanks is due to the doctors and nurses of the NHS who fought to keep her with us a little longer. I just wish she had been able to see the book dedicated to her.
Mum, I will think of you always.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Bryony Pearce has always loved to write. She studied English Literature at Cambridge University and after working in London for a few years she dedicated her time to writing. Her debut novel Angel’s Fury was longlisted for the Branford Boase Award and won both the Leeds Book Award and the Cheshire Schools Book Award.
Bryony now lives in a village at the edge of the Peak District with her husband, Andy, and two children, Maisie and Riley. She can usually be found reading, writing, ferrying children from place to place and avoiding housework.
For more information about Bryony and her work,
visit www.bryonypearce.co.uk or follow
her on Twitter @BryonyPearce.
Copyright
STRIPES PUBLISHING
An imprint of Little Tiger Press
1 The Coda Centre, 189 Munster Road,
London SW6 6AW
First published as an ebook by Stripes Publishing in 2015.
Text copyright © Bryony Pearce, 2015
Cover copyright © Stripes Publishing Ltd, 2015
Ship illustrations copyright © Artful Doodlers, 2015
Photographic images courtesy of www.shutterstock.com
eISBN: 978-1-84715-640-2
The right of Bryony Pearce to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights
reserved.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any forms, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
www.littletiger.co.uk
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