The Moon Child

by Cate Cain

  “Pocket’s up there tonight,” said Jem. “But it’s not a punishment this time. Spider says he actually likes it.” His whole body went rigid at the thought. He glanced up at the lookout. Could Pocket see them down below? Jem thought it was unlikely. They were sitting in the space Tolly had cleared for himself at the foredeck of the ship. It wasn’t exactly cosy, but it was covered overhead and enclosed on three sides, shielded from wind and from prying eyes. It reminded Jem of a cave.

  He had to lean right out to see the tiny, moving point of light from Pocket’s lantern. The other boy didn’t have Cleo for company, but at least he was wrapped in a blanket and had taken a leather bottle of grog and a hunk of worm-riddled, salted meat with him. Jem wondered how long it would be before it was his turn to go aloft. The thought made his stomach lurch so he dragged his eyes down to the deck again. At the stern end of the ship he could just make out the pinprick glow of a pipe bowl. Mingan, perhaps? Some of the crew were still wary of the strange, silent man, but after the previous evening Jem didn’t fear him.

  Outside it was a clear, starry night and a crescent moon hung low in the sky. Thousands of unblinking stars arced overhead. Spider said sailors called them the eyes of the lost. Jem felt lost too as he looked up. He could almost feel himself dissolving as he thought about the vastness of nothing above and below the ship. The Fortuna was his world now, and it was a tiny one. He was a speck upon a speck.

  The ship was slicing forward at an incredible pace, but tonight at least the glittering sea was calm. Another day had passed since they had been able to speak in private.

  Jem moved the little lantern so that the candle was guarded from the wind and shifted on the sacking Tolly used as bedding. “Listen, there’s not much time. I’ll have to go back below deck soon. Grimscale is watching everything I do at the moment and it wouldn’t surprise me if he snooped around the ship at night too. I couldn’t find the staff, but something else happened. I don’t know where to begin … Last night I saw …”

  “Me too!” Tolly interrupted quickly. “You saw her again on deck?”

  Jem nodded. “I didn’t get a clear view …”

  “Well, I did!” Tolly’s eyes widened. “And I saw exactly what she did. Did you hear the noise again?”

  “Yes … and I felt it, just like last time.” Jem shuddered. “It comes from the sea?”

  “No! It comes from things in the sea.” Tolly shook his head. “Horrible scaly things – bald women covered in lumps and barnacles – mermaids, I suppose, although not beautiful like the legends say.”

  “But Cazalon told me that merfolk didn’t exist.” Jem thought back to Malfurneaux Place and the room where the count had kept the disintegrating results of his cruel experiments. Most horrible of all was a unicorn with a twisted horn bolted to its forehead. Jem swallowed hard. “He told me that himself. He said he had travelled the world to find creatures of myth and was disappointed to find they didn’t exist. That’s why he decided to make his own instead – the gryphon, the unicorn? That can’t be right, you can’t have seen —’

  “I saw them in the water, Jem – dozens of them!” Tolly interrupted. “And they were as real as you or me. I had a clear view from the lookout. Their mouths are huge, half the size of their heads, running across their faces like open wounds and full of teeth – rows and rows of teeth.” He paused as Cleo burrowed into his lap and squirmed to make herself comfortable.

  “But that’s not the worst thing. It’s their eyes – they’re round and completely black, as if there’s nothing inside them, just hunger. Then I saw her as she stood at the prow, just above the figurehead, and pulled hairs from her head and cast them onto the water.”

  “She was feeding them her own hair?” At last Jem remembered what mange meant – to eat!

  Tolly shook his head. “No – it’s worse than that. I couldn’t see everything because of the rocking of the ship, but when she threw her hair out into the sea, it was as if silver ropes began to … grow in the water. The merpeople took hold of the ropes and wound them round their bodies and then they just waited in the sea – all of them staring up and opening and shutting their giant mouths. The wind dropped and the air around the mast-top seemed to … crackle. It was like a storm without thunder.”

  “I felt that too. I couldn’t sleep thinking about you two up there so I came out on deck. I was with Mingan when it happened.”

  “He was there last night?”

  Jem nodded. “I … I think he saved me from running into her.”

  “That was probably a good thing, considering what I saw next. See that gap in the rail over there?” He pointed with his good hand. “She pulled something out from the other side of this stack and dragged it across the deck, then she rolled it from there into the sea. It was a body, Jem – a man’s body – and the merpeople fell on it, ripping it to pieces in seconds. It was disgusting. I saw them fighting over it, tearing it apart with their hands and mouths, blood spattering around them.”

  “Mange bien, mes soeurs. Mange tout!” With a jolt Jem realised exactly what those words meant. “Eat well, my sisters. Eat everything!” He remembered what Spider had told him about a man going overboard. Now he was certain – the crewman hadn’t slipped on the ice. And last night he’d heard Captain Trevanion say another man had gone missing.

  And then there was Ann … He didn’t want to think about that in case it made it true.

  “Why is she feeding them?”

  “Because I think they are doing her bidding.” Tolly rubbed his bandaged fingers as he continued. “After they’d … fed, they all swarmed forward and the silver ropes seemed to lengthen and tighten around the Fortuna. When the ropes stretched so far out across the sea that I couldn’t see the merpeople any more, the ship reared up. We were almost thrown out of the cradle, but I managed to tie us to the mast with the blanket. The ship rose up …”

  “Right out of the water!” Jem cut in quickly. “I was almost thrown overboard too, but Mingan caught hold of me. And then it started plunging forward and moving incredibly fast like it was being … dragged behind something!”

  “Exactly!” Tolly slapped the canvas side of the shelter with his left hand and Cleo squealed. “She feeds them and they pull the ship for her. No wonder the sailors are muttering about the unnatural speed of this crossing.”

  “They think we are travelling on a witch wind,” Jem said, “but it’s something much worse.” He pushed his long dark hair back and knotted it into a matted ball at the nape of his neck. It was so thick with salt and grease now that it stayed in place. He stared grimly at his friend.

  “That’s not all, Tolly. I found something in the hold.”

  “The blood on the glass – do you think it was Ann’s?”

  Jem finished describing his terrifying encounter in the hold with the question that had been repeating itself over and over in his mind. Saying it aloud made it seem even more likely. Cleo nestled silently between the boys, anxiously watching their faces.

  Tolly drew a deep breath. “Do you remember the blood bridge?”

  “Of course, how could I forget it? Cazalon used Ann’s blood to open a channel to the dead lands, so he could talk to her mother. But he’s d—” Jem remembered the room in the mirror and felt a stab of pain from the Eye of Ra on his heel. “Do you think someone is doing that again, here on the ship?”

  Tolly didn’t answer. Instead he reached forward to move the lantern a little closer. Shadow and light distorted his even features as he looked up again. “Remember what I said about this being a trap?”

  As Jem thought about the bony hand that had gripped his through the glass of the mirror, the red strips between his fingers and across his knuckles began to burn. “Do you really think he – Cazalon, I mean – is here on board with us, Tolly?”

  The dark boy slumped forward and stared dejectedly at the flickering flame. “I don’t know what I think any more. The one thing I am certain of is that Ann is nearby.” The words sounded strangely
hollow. Jem was surprised to see his friend clench his fists as he continued. “She must be. Someone is shielding her from us.” His expression hardened. “What do you make of Mingan?”

  Jem frowned. He might not have special gifts like his friends, but he could still sense when it was right to trust someone. And the man had saved his life last night, hadn’t he?

  He shook his head decisively. “Why would he hide me from that woman, and why would he save me from the sea? No – Mingan’s not Cazalon. I’m sure of it.”

  “Then who is he? I can’t read him at all, Jem. There’s something very wrong about him, something he’s keeping hidden. I don’t trust him and neither does Cleo.”

  “Here, girl.” Jem reached forward to offer Cleo a handful of gravelly biscuit crumbs saved in his pocket. She crammed them into her mouth, licked her paws and eyed his pocket hungrily. “Sorry, that’s all I have.” Jem rolled a tiny nugget she’d overlooked towards her. “I’ve seen her watching Mingan, but she’s not scared. She’s interested in him – and that’s different. Spider says the captain trusts him – he’s sailed with him before, many times.”

  Tolly nodded. “I don’t doubt the captain is kind and fair. But he is troubled. Do you remember when he talked about his daughter?”

  Jem nodded. “He said something about giving her a pet dog? I thought for a moment that he might take Cleo for her.”

  “I was worried about that too – it’s why I tried to read him.” Tolly scratched Cleo’s head. “All I could sense in him was deep sadness.” Tolly paused. “That was when it started, I think.”

  “When what started?”

  Tolly didn’t answer immediately, but stroked Cleo’s rounded back. Eventually he spoke. “You know I’m not a mind-reader exactly?”

  Jem shifted uncertainly. “You … you pick up echoes. Like seeing the ripples on a pond after someone has thrown a stone into the water. But the more you care, the stronger the connection. It’s why we can mind talk and it’s why you can feel Ann here with us on the ship?”

  “Yes, that’s … right.” Tolly hesitated, his face crumpled with doubt. “I don’t really understand it myself. If I’m bonded to a person – or a creature, like Cleo – it’s quite easy to read them without even thinking about it. After we got away from Malfurneaux Place, the power, or whatever it is, became stronger. Since I’ve been with Gabriel I’ve sometimes had to close myself off to stop looking into people’s thoughts so easily. I don’t feel right about prying, but sometimes I can’t help it.” He smiled grimly. “Ann said … says that I must be coming into my inheritance, into my power, but that I must learn to control it. She is going to help me. Looking back I think that house fed off me – it drained me.”

  Jem’s back prickled. “Malfurneaux Place was evil.” He thought again about the room he’d seen in the mirror. It was definitely Cazalon’s chamber.

  “The thing is,” Tolly said, huddling Cleo beneath his cloak as a splatter of briny water crashed onto the deck, “there is something about the Fortuna that reminds me of that house. Ever since we’ve been on board my … skills have faded. At first I thought that it was my fear of being on a ship again. I wondered if my mind was clouded by panic. But now I don’t think that’s true.”

  Jem stared intently at his friend. “Um … I tried to connect to you last night, when you were up in the lookout cradle.”

  “Did you?” Tolly looked stricken. “I didn’t hear you. But it’s not just you. I can’t hear anyone’s thoughts like before. Everything is muffled. It began with the captain and then I wasn’t able to read Mingan at all, and now …”

  He brought his fingers to his temples and closed his eyes. Cleo cocked her head to one side and stared at him, her black eyes unblinking.

  “What about Ann, Tolly? Can you still sense her?” Jem gripped his friend’s shoulder. If Tolly had lost all sense of her he didn’t know what they were going to do. “Is she here? Is she still … alive?”

  Tolly’s opened his eyes and stared bleakly at the candle lantern. He swallowed hard. “I … That’s the worst thing … I didn’t know how to tell you. I haven’t managed to pick up a trace of her, not a single thing, for two days now.”

  Jem thought about the red mark on the mirror. The dry bloody print of a small hand. A girl’s hand.

  “I’ve still got this – would it help?” Jem reached under his cloak to pull Ann’s shawl free from his belt. There was a ripping sound as the red wool tore at the edge.

  “I’m not one of your tracker dogs, Jem.” Tolly’s voice was flat.

  A single harsh cry came from somewhere overhead.

  Startled, Jem leaned out from the nest and looked up. A vast dark shape flickered briefly across one of the grey sails, moving swiftly to another and then upward again. The great curved shadow reminded him of a hunting hawk. He blinked as the shadow disappeared, only to come into view again much higher up, outlined starkly for just a second in the moonlight.

  Tolly shuffled forward and peered upward, following the line of Jem’s gaze. “W-what’s that?”

  Every hair on the back of Jem’s neck rose. He tried to track the little light of Pocket’s lantern swinging backwards and forwards in the lookout. Through the forest of ropes and canvas he saw the yellow glow appear and disappear, moving with the rhythm of the ship. It twinkled faintly, then vanished – only to return several seconds later.

  The vast shadow flitted across the topsail once more and Jem saw the ragged outline of something that looked like a single giant wing.

  Pocket’s light swung into view and dipped out of sight. Jem waited. He began to count. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine … Surely he should have seen it again by now? Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen …

  A scream split the air. Seconds later something heavy splashed into the water just beyond the prow of the boat. Jem leaped up but Tolly caught his arm.

  “No – you can’t … The merfolk!”

  A terrible wailing rose from the water. The agonised sound came in choked, muffled snatches as if something, or someone, was being dragged beneath the waves and struggling free, only to be caught again.

  “Help me, for pity’s sake! Hel—” The words turned into a shriek of terror. Jem tried to pull away.

  “It’s Pocket! We can’t leave him. He can’t swim!”

  Tolly held tight. “Those things, Jem. You haven’t seen them – I have. They’ll tear you to shreds.”

  A pitiful gurgling wail came from the water. Cleo covered her ears and her fur rose along her back.

  It was intolerable. “I don’t care. We can’t do nothing.” Jem shrugged off his cloak. For some reason the thought of Pocket’s mother and her good meaty stew ran through his mind. Tolly still kept hold. “Let me go! I can swim, even if you can’t. I’m not going to leave him.” But as Jem yanked at the sleeves of his jerkin, the screaming stopped abruptly. Tolly released his grip and shook his head.

  “It’s too late.” The Fortuna was utterly still for a second, then it bucked and plunged forward. A great wave broke over the prow, knocking Jem to the deck. He rolled into the side of the canvas stack and only just managed to catch Cleo as the receding foaming waters threatened to carry the little monkey overboard.

  Clutching Cleo tightly his chest he braced himself against the rail and scanned the turbulent sea for any sign of Pocket. The huge white waves crashing against the bows of the ship were flecked with something black. Jem bit into his lip so hard he could taste blood on his tongue. Tolly was right – it was too late.

  “Tolly!” Jem shouted. “Are you there?”

  “Yes, I’m here – on the other side.”

  Soaked to the skin, Jem crawled around the stack and released Cleo. She scurried to her master who was flattened against the ship’s black rail. She made little crooning noises as she burrowed into his arms. Tolly looked up, his eyes glistening. “I’m sorry, Jem, but you wouldn’t have stood a chance. And I’m sorry for poor Pocket. He was good to me and Cleo.” He huddled her
close and shivered. “That was terrible – the sound of him out there in the water.”

  Jem nodded grimly. “If only we could have done something to …” He froze as a heavy whooshing noise and then a thump sounded from the other side of the stack. The boys shrank together as they heard the all too familiar sound of scratching, scraping and ticking across the deck timbers.

  “Mange bien, mes soeurs. Mange tout.” Madame’s diamond-hard voice cut through the night. Jem couldn’t see the woman, but he knew she was standing just yards away. The peculiar ticking noise was loud now, fast and regular. He glanced anxiously at Cleo, but Tolly was holding her tight and rocking her, willing her to be silent. The halting, scratching noise came again. Jem held his breath as it passed the stack and faded as the woman moved back down the ship to her cabin beyond the Medusa doorway. When he heard the sound of a door closing he rested his head on his knees and took a gulp of air.

  “She just fed Pocket to the merfolk, Tolly. What are we going to do?”

  “Indeed. What are we going to do?”

  The words jangled every nerve in Jem’s body. His head snapped up.

  A tall, indistinct shape was silhouetted against moonlight. For a split second he thought it was a great bird, but it shuddered and rearranged itself into a horribly recognisable form.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Bonsoir, mes amis, or perhaps I should say, good evening?” Madame de Chouette twitched, ruffled her cloak and took a scraping step towards them. Moonlight gleamed on the fat coils of auburn hair that surrounded her pointed face.

  She folded her arms and smiled. Her dark lips parted and the eye-patch rose a little higher on her bonewhite cheek. “I do not believe the captain introduced me to you at the beginning of our voyage and I was most particular that I should know every member of my crew and hear their pledges to me. Stand.”

  Jem hauled himself to his feet. His back was rigid and his mouth felt as if it were filled with sand. Beside him, Tolly stood too.