The Moon Child

by Cate Cain

  A church bell began to sound the hour. Four long metallic notes lingered on the night air.

  “That way, lad, walk on.” Jem urged Titan forward and the hollow sound of hooves clopping on cobblestones echoed in the dark.

  Titan bucked as a large sheeny-backed creature with beady, burning eyes disappeared into the shadows with a flick of its pink tail. Jem pulled hard on the reins. “Steady, lad. Did you see the size of it? They say that the ships here are alive with rats. Keep hold of Cleo; that one was twice her size.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got her safe.” Jem felt Tolly move in the saddle as he leaned out to get a better view. “There must be a hundred ships on the river. Where do we begin?”

  “I hoped you’d know that.” Jem scanned the quayside. The black walls of the Tower loomed to the left, casting a shadow over the wharves on the banks of the Pool of London. He could see a light moving high along the ramparts – probably the night watch. To the right, the wide black river was choked with tall-masted boats. He could hear the creaking of timbers and the sound of waves slapping against thick wooden hulls.

  “On foot, then, I suppose – we can’t take Titan any further. We’ll have to tie him to the wall over there.” He pointed at a dark passage between two tall stone warehouses set back from the quay. Jem patted the horse’s arched neck. If Titan was stolen his mother would be furious and Smeaton the head groom would never speak to him again.

  “Then we must find Ann as quickly as possible.” Tolly slipped down from the saddle and landed lightly on the snow-crusted stones. “Sorry, I wasn’t prying; it just happened,” he added without looking up.

  Jem flushed. He felt uncomfortable about what he’d said earlier, but sometimes he wondered how much Tolly really saw in his mind. He knew he had been rude.

  “No, I should be the one to apologise. I’m sorry. It’s just that everything tonight is so …”

  “Wrong?” Tolly glanced up now.

  Jem nodded grimly and dismounted. When they’d secured Titan by tying the reins to a metal loop in the passageway, Tolly rested his forehead against the horse’s nose.

  “I’ve told him to stay in the shadows if he can. I think he understood me. But we can’t leave this.” He loosened the saddle to free Cazalon’s staff and tucked it under his cloak.

  Jem didn’t say anything. Instead he stared back along the quay. Some thirty yards away there was a long, low building with a torch burning over a central door. The Neptune Arms – its painted tavern sign showing the sea god spearing a fish with his trident swayed in the wind. It creaked as it moved backwards and forwards.

  Despite the hour, every window blazed with light. Jem could hear laughter and music – the people inside were singing a raucous drinking song. The door swung open and a man sprawled out onto the quayside. The Pool of London was rough and rowdy and Jem knew it would be best to stay hidden from view. As the man cursed and scrambled to his unsteady feet, Jem pulled Tolly behind a pile of rope-bound boxes waiting to be loaded aboard a ship. They crouched low and Jem blew on his fingers.

  “Where now?”

  Tolly peered out through a gap at the ships moored in rows ten deep across the wide river. They creaked and moaned as the Thames moved around them.

  “Can you sense her nearby?”

  Tolly was silent for a moment. “Yes … and no. I keep thinking that I’ve caught her, but then she dissolves and there’s no trace.” He pulled his hood up tight to make sure Cleo was hidden from view as a couple of sailors rolled past. They stopped on the other side of the stack and the boys shrank further back into the shadows.

  “And ain’t it the strangest fing?” The voice was weedy and shrill. “No one would set out on that course at this time of the year. Never been done. ’Tis madness, that’s what it is.”

  “But the pay’s good. They say Trevanion’s offering four times the usual rate.” The second voice was deeper with the butter-soft accent of the West Country.

  “That what they say, is it?” the first man spoke again and burped loudly. “Well, let me tell you, friend, any ship chartered by a woman – and a French one at that – is a ship I’d give a wery wide berth. Anyway, you know what they say about a ship with a name like that, don’tcha?”

  “No.” The other man sounded confused.

  “It ends in an ‘A’, don’t it? Unlucky that is, wery unlucky. I don’t know what you Devoners say, but here in London we wouldn’t set one foot on a ship with a name like that.”

  The other man laughed. “Well, it doesn’t matter what we Devoners would say. Fact is the Fortuna is setting sail with the tide at sunrise today and I heard Captain Trevanion’s got a full crew for the crossing. Come on, let’s find ourselves a fireside.”

  Jem stared at Tolly. The Fortuna! The word they’d seen burned into the wall of Ann’s caravan.

  The two sailors crunched away across the icy cobbles of the quayside and the boys slipped out from behind the boxes.

  “It’s a ship – the Fortuna is a ship and it’s here somewhere. That must be where Ann is.”

  “But there are more than a hundred ships here – where do we start?” Tolly sounded panic-stricken.

  Jem squinted at the rows of groaning vessels moored across the river. “Well, if the Fortuna is setting sail at sunrise it must be making ready now. We just have to find the busiest ship in the pool.”

  Tolly nodded.

  “Look!” Jem pointed at a pallet being pushed along the quayside by four burly men. They passed the boys and halted further along the quay. One of the men stepped forward and put his hands to his mouth.

  “Last delivery for the Fortuna,” he bellowed.

  “Here!” came a voice from among the dark tangle of masts. “Bring it up here alongside and we’ll take it from there.”

  Jem gripped Tolly’s arm. “We’ve found her!” He felt a surge of hope. “Now, let’s get her back.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  From their hiding place the boys watched the great black package swing up from the pallet and out over the glittering water. The delivery men puffed and wheezed as they hauled on ropes that guided the package upward until it was suspended over an open hole in the centre of the huge ship’s deck. The package twisted in mid-air for a moment before it was lowered slowly into the darkness of the hold. Once the ropes had been cut free, two massive doors closed over the gaping mouth, making the deck smooth and whole again.

  The boys had a clear view of the deck, but the ship’s sharp prow and bulky stern with its tiers of lighted windows towered above them. The Fortuna was the biggest, blackest ship in the pool. Her ridged sides glistened like the skin of a reptile.

  “Look.” Tolly nudged Jem’s shoulder and pointed.

  Jem clutched the edge of the squat barrel that hid them and shifted position so that he could see more clearly.

  Tolly’s voice came from the darkness. “The figurehead. That’s what I saw.”

  Jem looked up and over to the left. The Fortuna rose and fell as the river waters sucked at the hull, but he could clearly see the carved wooden profile of a woman. She had one hand held out in front of her and the other, clenched into a fist, was clasped to her breast. From the light of the many lanterns strung along the side of the ship, Jem could see red tendrils of hair swept back from the woman’s whitepainted face. They curled in elaborate scrolls across the Fortuna’s prow.

  As the ship dipped down again, he saw a silver star set into the scarlet scrolls just above the woman’s forehead. The Eye of Ra began to prickle on his heel.

  Tolly bumped Jem’s shoulder and whispered urgently. “Look! She is exactly what I saw – a red-haired woman with a star on her forehead. Ann must be on board. Jem, did you hear me?”

  Tolly nudged him again. With difficulty, Jem dragged his eyes away from the figurehead. He was sure the wooden woman had just opened her eyes. It must have been a trick of the lanternlight, he told himself, trying to clear the unsettling image from his mind.

  Heavy footsteps sounded o
n the deck somewhere to the right. “We ride the tide, shipmates. Less than an hour to go. Are you ready?”

  “Aye.” The ragged answer came from many voices speaking at once.

  “Set the small sails.”

  A dozen pairs of feet thundered across the deck and the boys ducked even lower into the shadows behind the barrels. Suddenly the rigging above the ship was alive with crew swarming upwards. Some of them had small lanterns attached to their belts. Jem’s stomach flipped as he watched the lights weaving like fireflies between the ropes, higher and higher.

  A whumping noise filled the air as sheets of pale canvas tumbled down into the night, blocking the stars from view. Ropes began to creak and strain as the sails caught the wind and bulged. Instantly, the Fortuna seemed to buck forward, like a greyhound straining at the leash.

  “Steady the jetty ropes! Foreyard and mizzen only until we reach the estuary.” The harsh voice from the deck added, “The pilot boat will be with us at sunrise and then we sail.”

  Jem looked east along the river and saw the inkblack sky thinning, as if it was diluted with water. Very soon now it would be dawn.

  “We have to go aboard and find her, Tolly.” Jem clutched his friend’s arm. “Look – there’s a doorway in the side over there.”

  The boys watched the narrow, swinging gangway leading from the jetty to a small entrance set low into the wooden hull below the heavily carved, brightly lit windows of the great cabin.

  With all the activity taking place on deck and in the rigging, no one was watching the gangway. “Come on!” Jem pulled at his friend but Tolly held back.

  “I … I’m not sure I can go in there. I thought I could, but now … I’m sorry – I just can’t.” He faltered and Jem knew why. Many years ago Tolly and his entire family had been kidnapped by traders, chained together and taken up the Nile in the stinking bowels of a slaver’s barge, only to be sold like cattle on the quayside at Alexandria.

  That was when Tolly had been separated from his father, mother and sister, and bought by Count Cazalon.

  In the gloom Jem could see the terror in the boy’s wide-set eyes. Cleo, shrouded in the depths of Tolly’s loose hood, made a soft crooning noise, as if she sensed her master’s distress.

  Jem pushed his springy black curls back from his face so that Tolly could see him more clearly. “Look, I can’t go in there alone. There’s not enough time to search the ship as it is before it sails, and if it’s just me in there I don’t stand a chance. You’re the one who can lead us to her, Tolly – like before at St Paul’s? You can search with your mind for the smallest trace of her. It won’t be like the barge. Please – you must try. Do this for Ann.”

  Tolly looked down at the wooden boards of the jetty and his shoulders slumped. Beneath them Jem could hear the river slapping against the underside of the planks.

  Tolly drew a deep breath and straightened up. “For Ann,” he said.

  Jem gripped his friend’s arm fiercely, understanding just how much those two words had cost him. “For Ann.”

  The boys took advantage of the shadows and slipped along the quay until they reached a set of steps to the jetty below. They waited until they were certain that they couldn’t be seen and then crept down and slipped along the boards to the narrow door leading into the ship. Jem looked at the dark, sheeny water moving beneath the slats. Cleo slipped from Tolly’s shoulder and loped along behind.

  “I’ll go first,” Jem whispered. “Stay close.”

  “Wait!”

  Jem turned, expecting his friend to have frozen in fear, but Tolly was looking up.

  “I think we’re being watched.”

  Jem looked too. High on the forecastle at the front of the ship a shadow moved in the lantern light. As Jem watched, the shadow became a man, a tall, thin man with what looked like a great shaggy mask covering his head and shoulders. The mask seemed to rise to two points above the man’s head.

  The figure began to turn slowly in their direction.

  “Run!” Jem whispered urgently, and the boys and the monkey pelted across the narrow gangway and into the black heart of the Fortuna.

  The smell hit Jem first. The air was thick with the scent of tar and wood interlaced with something briny, sharp and sour. Tolly brought his hand up to cover his nose and mouth, and even though he was no mind-reader, Jem knew exactly what was going through his friend’s head.

  He reached out to grasp Tolly’s arm again. “Can you feel her?” he whispered, trying to distract him from his fear.

  Tolly shook his head miserably. “No … not really.” He closed his eyes and dipped his head forward, then, after a moment, he nodded and looked up. Jem was relieved to see a glint of hope in his friend’s dark eyes. Tolly nodded again. “There is something – a trace of her, but it’s not her. I don’t understand. It’s as if Ann’s here, but not here.”

  Jem scanned the space around them. In the gloom he saw that they were in a long storage space running the length of the ship. The shadowy hold was cluttered with jumbled barrels, boxes, earthen jars, sacks and very large, oddly-shaped packages.

  He stepped forward and pulled Tolly along behind him. “Perhaps we can get out over there? Look – there’s a sort of glow …”

  They negotiated their way past a mound of sacks. Jem looked up. Cracks of lamplight showed between the broad timbers overhead.

  “I’m going to sling my hammock across here if that’s all right with you, Spider?”

  Jem and Tolly ducked instinctively at the sound of a boy’s voice directly above them.

  “That’s fine by me, but you’ll have Ned to deal with,” came another boy’s voice. “He’s done four crossings now and by his reckoning that means he got rights to the best cot. I wouldn’t argue with him, Pocket, he’s bigger than you and me put together.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  Jem heard bumping and the sound of something being dragged over the timbers above. The first boy spoke again. “And as we’re all three going to be kipping here tighter than eels in a barrel, I wouldn’t want to make an enemy of him.”

  Flakes of pitch fell from the timbers as the boys above shifted about. Jem quickly covered his nose and mouth to stifle a sneeze.

  “What was that?” The second boy – Spider, was it? – spoke sharply.

  “Nothing – probably just rats down in the hold below. This must be the worst place on the ship – it stinks of bilge water. Help me with this, will you?” More thumping came from overhead and the boards groaned.

  Pocket spoke again. “They say she’s bought a houseful of stuff on board with her. I’d like to take a look down below. Mind you, by the time we get there, the rats’ll have eaten through all her fancy French goods. You seen her yet, Spider?”

  “No. They came aboard in the early hours and went straight to the cabin. We’re to be shown to her at first light – all of us. You seen that ’orrible doorway up on deck yet? Well, it leads to the passengers’ chamber and we’re not to go there on pain of a flogging.” Spider paused. “Master Grimscale says we’re not to speak to them at any time. Though why she’d want to make the crossing at this time of year is beyond me.”

  “Me too,” Pocket answered cheerfully. “But Ned reckons this is the biggest, grandest ship he’s ever seen, so she’ll get us across all right. Anyways, I’m content with my lot – the captain’s a fair man, the pay’s good and the grog ration is more than generous.”

  “Good thing too.” Spider laughed. “We’ll be needing that to see us through.”

  Clank!

  Jem jumped at the sudden noise and spun around. He was horrified to find that the doorway behind them was sealed. The foul air became suddenly dense and smothering. He heard the heavy thud of boots as someone clumped away along the jetty outside.

  Jem shot a glance at Tolly. His friend was rigid in the gloom, his right hand clutching Cazalon’s staff. Cleo pulled nervously at Tolly’s cloak, making little whickering sounds while staring up at his face.

&n
bsp; Jem scanned the cluttered space around him. How would they get out now?

  He peered up at the cracks in the boards. Just to the left, the feeble light showed six metal rungs set into the side of the ship. He tested the first bar and hauled himself up. It was definitely a sort of ladder, but where did it lead?

  Overhead there was a shout and the boards creaked as Spider and Pocket raced to answer a command. Jem waited for a moment until he was certain they were gone and then he clambered higher and reached up to test the wood overhead. His fingers traced the edges of a small hatch. He dropped back to the floor of the hold and felt the ship move beneath him, rocking in the water. He clutched the side of a leather-bound chest to steady himself.

  “I think I’ve found a way out.” He chewed his lip and looked up at the hatchway, wondering where it led. “Tolly, did you hear me?” He turned to his friend.

  Tolly’s eyes were tightly closed and he moaned softly. Jem wondered if he was having some sort of fit brought on by his fear. He reached forward to clasp his shoulder. “I’m here. I’m right here. It’s all right.” He knew the words sounded weak and meaningless.

  Tolly’s eyes flicked open. “It’s not all right. In fact, it’s very far from all right.” He gripped Jem’s hand so hard that it hurt. “Don’t you feel it? We’re moving. The Fortuna has set sail.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  The black timbers of the Fortuna groaned and the floor moved. Jem steadied himself by wedging his foot beneath a canvas sack. The bottom of the sack felt damp. He looked down to see a thin layer of brown bilge water lapping across the toes of his boots.

  He felt as if he and Tolly were in the belly of a vast sea creature – like the story of Jonah and the whale. It definitely smelled like the entrails of an old dead fish down here.

  The Fortuna seemed to be alive. In the hold, the sounds of the ship were amplified and distorted. It moaned like a wounded animal as it rolled in the water.