by Lian Tanner
She won’t believe him, thought Petrel. She won’t believe me either. She’s all a-stew with anger and hatred, and she’s got us fixed in her mind as the cause of it.
Petrel was right. Dolph glared at the boy. ‘I reckon Albie’s sorry now that he picked you up, murderer. Look what you’ve done to the Oyster! Killed the best First Officer there ever was. I reckon he’ll cheer when he sees me throw you two overboard.’
Something twisted in Petrel’s belly. Blizzards, she thought, it’s not just the tar bucket, not this time.
She wasn’t worried for herself, not yet. As long as it was just Dolph guarding them, Petrel could get away whenever she wanted to, and so could Squid. But escape would be a lot harder if Dolph handed them over to Crab and Albie . . .
‘You think Albie’s gunna let you chuck us overboard?’ she said. ‘Not a chance. He’ll want to do it himself.’
‘No, he won’t,’ said Dolph, through gritted teeth. ‘It was my mam you murdered, so I get to kill you.’
Petrel rolled her eyes at Squid and Fin, hoping they’d understand. ‘Not if you hand us over you won’t. You won’t count for anything once Albie gets his hands on us.’
Squid nodded. ‘And Crab’ll want to make a show of it now he’s First Officer. He and Albie’ll be fighting over who gets to do the deed.’
‘They won’t,’ said Dolph. ‘They’ll see I’ve got first rights.’
‘I would not count on it,’ said Fin, his wits nimble in spite of the blade at his throat. ‘Chief Engineer Albie seems to be a man of very strong will.’
Dolph glared at the three of them. ‘You think you’re so clever,’ she hissed, ‘but I know what you’re doing. All the same, maybe you’re right about Crab and Albie. Maybe they would take over, and that’s not what I want, and not what Mam would’ve wanted either. So we’re going up to the afterdeck, just the four of us. And if either of you two—’ she jerked her chin at Petrel and Squid ‘—try to run away, or do anything I don’t like, the murderer here will have a very nasty accident.’
‘He’s not a murderer—’ ‘Shut up, Nothing Girl! I don’t want to hear another word out of your nasty little mouth.’
Petrel fell silent, and the small procession set off, with Squid leading the way. The Dufftown border was unguarded for once, and the lights that usually illuminated the Commons ladderway were shattered, as if the fighting had come this way and then retreated. The small group climbed upwards, with Dolph holding her knife against Fin’s throat to remind them to behave.
Fear for the boy coiled and uncoiled in Petrel’s belly. But there was something else there too, something that made her skin flush and her hands clench into fists.
She had been called Nothing Girl all her life, and had accepted it as the truth. The whole crew thought of her as Nothing Girl. If Dolph did somehow manage to throw her overboard today, no one would care. Likely no one would even notice.
And that wasn’t right. Because she wasn’t nothing. She was Braid and Grease; she was Seal’s daughter, and Quill’s.
She wondered what her parents would say if they could see her now. She wanted them to be proud of her, the way Krill was proud of Squid.
She raised her chin. I’m not going to let Fin die without a fight, Mam. I bet you and Da fought for your lives. Orca killed you all the same, but I’m not gunna let her daughter kill Fin. Not if I can help it.
And she set herself to thinking about the afterdeck.
They had nearly reached their destination when the pipes started rattling. At first Petrel thought it was messages, but if it was, they were all jumbled up and mixed together, one on top of the other as if everyone was yelling at once.
‘What are they saying?’ Fin called from behind Petrel.
Squid, still leading the way, shouted over the noise, ‘Nothing sensible.’
‘Shut up,’ cried Dolph.
‘Reckon they’re just banging away for the sake of it,’ shouted Petrel.
‘I said, shut up!’
The hatch, when they came to it, had ice around its edges. ‘You’re gunna be cold out there, Dolph, without your jacket,’ Petrel said, raising her voice over the clanging of the pipes. ‘Maybe you should take Fin’s. He won’t need his, not inside the Maw. I’m sure he’ll stand nice and quiet while you put it on.’
Dolph sneered at her. ‘You worry about yourself, Nothing Girl, not about me. Open the hatch.’
Petrel shrugged and threw her weight against the clamp. The hatch opened with a grinding sound and the cold swooped in and seized hold of them.
‘Quick,’ said Dolph. Like Petrel and Squid, she was already shivering. ‘G-get out there.’
Squid stepped outside, and Petrel followed. At the urging of the knife, Fin too stepped over the sill, with Dolph beside him.
The deck was coated with a thin layer of ice, and Petrel trod carefully. Wonder if the Maw knows we’re coming. Wonder if it thinks it’s gunna get a feed.
The day was so clear that she could see for miles. There was pack ice everywhere, huge flat slabs of it that the Oyster swept aside with ease. An albatross hung on the air, its wingspan twice as wide as Petrel’s height, and the wind fiddles sang in time with its swooping and rising. In the distance a cloud of seabirds was gathering. The beauty of it all snatched at Petrel’s heart and made her more determined than ever that neither she nor Fin would die today.
‘Where’s the f-fishing shift?’ said Dolph.
‘They’re all fighting,’ said Squid. ‘Everyone’s f-fighting.’
Petrel wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop the shivering. ‘All b-because of Fin – at least that’s where it started, but I reckon they’ve p-prob’ly forgotten about him by now, and they’re just h-hacking away for the sake of it.’
She peeked at Dolph and said, ‘And you know what? They shouldn’t forget about him. Cos he knows s-something important. Something about d-demons and strange ships. Something that’s gunna affect the whole c-crew. And if you throw us over the side, you won’t know what it is.’
Squid blew on her fists and said, ‘Until maybe it’s t-too late to fix it.’
Dolph jabbed her knife at the boy’s neck. ‘M-move. It’s c-cold out here and I want to get back inside.’
‘Fin,’ said Petrel. ‘T-tell her. Tell her about the ship that brought you.’
Fin nodded cautiously, wary of the knife. ‘It is out there now, following us. The men on board – they wish to kill everyone—’
‘Why?’ interrupted Dolph. ‘This ship, which I d-don’t believe in, why would they want to k-kill us all?’
‘Cos of the d-demon,’ said Petrel quickly. ‘That’s why Fin killed your mam, Dolph. Cos she was a demon!’
‘What?’ cried Dolph.
‘What?’ said Squid.
‘No!’ said Fin, looking around wildly. ‘I did not!’
And in that moment of uncertainty, Petrel snatched the boy away from Dolph’s knife and dived for the deck.
The icy surface helped – they skidded away from Dolph as quick as seals. Squid was already on the move, and the three of them were twenty paces away before Dolph knew what was happening.
Petrel couldn’t help herself. She climbed to her feet and shouted, as she had longed to shout so many times before, ‘Ha! You’re stupid, Dolph! Fancy falling for a little trick like that. A baby could get away from you.’ And she waggled her tongue in triumph.
Dolph’s eyes were black with rage. She advanced on them, knife in hand, and they quickly backed away.
‘Twasn’t true what Petrel said,’ shouted Squid. ‘Fin didn’t kill your mam. Neither did she.’
‘I would’ve,’ cried Petrel, still triumphant, still furious. ‘I should’ve, cos she killed my mam. And my da.’
Squid hushed her and shouted, ‘She wasn’t lying about the strange ship though. It’s out there somewhere.’
Dolph wouldn’t listen. She followed them the length of the deck, and all Squid’s protests did not move her. She couldn’t get close
enough to hurt them, but neither could they escape her for long enough to get back inside the ship.
All of them except Fin were far too cold for safety. Petrel’s fingers and nose were numb, and she was beginning to regret taunting her old enemy. ‘We’re all gunna d-die if you don’t let us back inside,’ she shouted. ‘You and Squid too.’
‘Don’t c-care,’ replied Dolph, and she advanced on them again, her knife turning wickedly in her fingers.
‘Come on, Dolph,’ cried Squid, through chattering teeth. ‘This is m-madness.’
‘Don’t c-care.’
Petrel stamped her feet and jumped up and down, trying to summon some warmth. But the icy air was creeping into her lungs and into her flesh and bones, and she knew that time was running out.
‘Fin won’t die,’ she shouted. ‘Him and m-me are the ones you really want, but he’s as warm as p-penguin stew in those clothes. You should’ve taken his jacket when I told you. Soon as your hands get too c-cold to hold a knife, he’s going to run inside and you’ll be f-frozen on the spot.’
It was not entirely true that Fin was warm. Frost was forming on his eyebrows, and without gloves, his fingers were as cold as Petrel’s. But the rest of it was true, and Dolph knew it.
With a furious cry she rushed at them, skidding on the ice but staying upright. Petrel and Squid backed away, dragging Fin between them. He wasn’t used to the ice, not like they were, and he slipped and spun and stumbled, so that they barely avoided the knife.
Dolph sobbed with rage, and yelled, ‘Make him t-take the jacket off. Make him!’ But she could not reach them.
It was then that Squid shouted in a cracked voice, ‘Look! W-what’s that?’ And she pointed nor’east, where the cloud of seabirds had risen above the water.
Petrel assumed it was another trick, but she looked all the same, and saw a patch of white. She blinked. It was some distance away, but it was clearly far too neat and square to be a berg.
And if it wasn’t a berg, there was only one other thing it could be.
FIN’S SHIP
‘It’s Fin’s ship,’ cried Petrel, her breath hanging on the air in a dense fog. ‘Look, Fin, it’s your ship. See, Dolph? There’s folk out there who want to d-do us harm.’
Dolph scowled. ‘It’s a b-berg.’ But she was clearly shaken.
‘There’s n-never been a berg so sharp-edged and neat,’ said Petrel. ‘That’s a ship. Ain’t it a ship, Fin?’
Fin stared nor’east for a long moment, his face blank. ‘No,’ he said at last. ‘Dolph is right. It is an iceberg.’
Petrel grabbed his arm. ‘What’s the m-matter with you? It must be your ship. All full of c-cruel men, you said.’
But Fin pulled away from her, with that old distance in his eyes that made Petrel feel small and ugly.
‘It is a ship, I swear it,’ said Squid. ‘We’ve got to t-tell Crab. Truce, Dolph, I cry Truce. This is more important than your p-private vengeance.’
The cry of Truce was a powerful one on the Oyster. Dolph peered unwillingly at the square of white again, then at Fin, as if trying to see inside his head. ‘He should know if it’s a ship.’
‘He does,’ said Petrel. ‘He’s l-lying.’
‘Why?’
Petrel tried to shrug, but she was too cold. ‘Don’t know. Maybe he’s scared.’
A flush appeared on Fin’s cheek, but he did not speak.
‘Dolph,’ said Squid, ‘we must tell folk. If your mam was alive—’ Dolph’s eyes narrowed, but she did not move towards them. Petrel felt that tickle of memory again – something she had seen . . .
But her mind was full of the strange ship, and the memory slipped away before she could grab hold of it.
‘—if your m-mam was alive,’ said Squid, ‘she’d want to know about this. She was a h-hard woman, and I can’t say I l-liked her, but her first thought was always for the ship.’
‘Crab won’t know what to do,’ mumbled Dolph. ‘He’s not g-got half Mam’s brains.’
‘Put him together with Albie and Krill and they’ll f-figure something out,’ said Petrel.
Dolph glared at her. ‘Still going to k-kill you. Soon as this business is finished. You and him.’ She pointed the tip of her knife at Fin. ‘Now g-get inside.’
Petrel was so cold by then that she could hardly walk. Dolph and Squid were in the same condition, and they ended up, in spite of everything, holding each other upright, while Fin stumbled along beside them.
But Dolph did not let go of her knife, and as soon as they were inside the ship, and the hatch closed, she held the blade to Petrel’s neck and said, ‘Should’ve grabbed you in the first place, shouldn’t I. Well, I’ve learned my lesson. You won’t get away from me again.’
Petrel hardly cared; it was such a relief to be back in the warmth. Besides, the other ship scared her far more than Dolph did. She rubbed her hands together and said, ‘Bet they haven’t got heating like ours. Bet those cruel men are all huddled together like penguins, trying not to perish of the cold, eh, Fin?’
Fin didn’t answer.
‘I wish the pipes’d shut up,’ said Squid, and Petrel grimaced agreement, though the lack of lights meant no one could see her. The fastest way to warn folk about the other ship would be to send a rattle. But the meaningless banging continued, and any message would be drowned out before it started.
‘We have to find Crab,’ said Squid. ‘Where was he, Dolph, last time you saw him?’
‘Not sure we should start with Crab,’ said Petrel. ‘Despite him being First Officer.’ The knife at her neck twitched. It might be a Truce, but it was a fragile one, and she quickly added, ‘Me, I still think of him as Second. He’s not a First sort of person, not like Orca.’
Dolph relaxed a little at that. But her rage was still there, stored up for later, so hard and painful that Petrel almost felt sorry for her.
‘Well then, maybe we should try and get to Da,’ said Squid. ‘And he can talk to Crab—’
Dolph snorted. ‘Crab’s not going to listen to Krill, not in the middle of battle. He’s trying to prove himself, and he won’t stop for anything.’
‘Albie then,’ said Petrel, and after a moment’s thought all except Fin murmured agreement.
Petrel wished she could see the boy’s face. She had thought he was growing more human, but the sight of the strange ship had made him shrink back inside himself, as cold and emotionless as the ice itself. She hated to think what the cruel men must be like, to do that to him.
As they descended towards Dufftown, the sounds of fighting rose up to meet them – the howls of rage, the clangour of the pipes, the clash of weapons in and out of the passages. Petrel had no idea how they were going to find Albie. A madness had overtaken the tribes of the Oyster, just when they needed to be clear-headed and strong.
They’ll keep fighting forever, she thought. And that ship’ll creep up on us bit by bit, and the cruel men will kill us all.
But even as she thought it, the noise stopped.
Petrel peered downwards, but it was too dark to see anything. ‘Squid?’ she whispered. ‘What’s happening?’
‘Don’t know,’ came the reply from below. ‘Maybe—’
Her voice was drowned out by the renewed clangour of the pipes. But this time it was no mad banging. Petrel’s blood ran cold as she heard the message, the warning, the alarm that everyone on the ship, from youngest to oldest, knew and dreaded.
Fire! Fire on board! Fire!
FIRE ON BOARD!
Fin was shocked at the speed with which everything changed. From the moment he had arrived on the ship, all he had seen between the Oyster’s tribes was hostility.
But now, as the alarm rang on and on, the girls above and below him slipped into what was clearly a well-practised discipline. Dolph shouted, ‘Fire stations! I’m for the aft hoses,’ and squeezed past Fin, as quick as a cat.
‘I’m for the pumps,’ cried Squid, as she jumped off the bottom of the ladderway.
The ala
rm stopped. A whiff of smoke drifted towards Fin, and he said into the darkness, ‘Are you going with them?’
‘Nope,’ said Petrel. ‘Haven’t got a place on the fire crews. They don’t count me; they never have.’
There was silence, as if she was thinking. Then she climbed down until her feet were a couple of steps above Fin’s, and their faces were on a level. ‘Thing is,’ she said, her voice soft and close, ‘that ship of yours is still out there.’
Fin tried to reply, but the words caught in his throat. The coldness of the afterdeck had been nothing compared to the coldness he had felt when he saw the sail of the Severity. It had crawled inside him, so that he felt as if he were back in the Citadel, and every part of him frozen.
He did not understand where this feeling had come from. The Citadel was a place of coolness and discipline, that was all. He had not felt frozen when he lived there. Surely. Not like this.
I LOVE my life with the Circle, he told himself. I cannot wait to return to it and get away from this chaos.
But the frozen feeling persisted, and it was so familiar and so unpleasant that he almost wanted to climb down the ladderway and throw himself at the fire to be rid of it.
He forced himself to say, ‘I do not think they will approach. Not yet.’ He did not tell Petrel that the Devouts were afraid of the demon and its terrible powers, that they would not attack until they saw his signal, or until the ship was clearly in such distress that the demon must be dead.
‘All the same,’ said Petrel, ‘we can’t just forget about ’em. We could try to find Albie, but he wouldn’t be able to do anything, not while there’s a fire to be fought. Besides—’ She put her hand on Fin’s shoulder. Even through the jacket it seemed to warm him, and it suddenly struck him that this scrawny, outcast girl was the very opposite of frozen. She was filled with life and warmth. She had cared for him when he was ill and had saved his life on the afterdeck. Maybe he could save her life when the Devouts came—