The Voyage to Magical North

by Claire Fayers

  Brine heard footsteps outside. Quiet footsteps, but lots of them. Then the door opened and Book Sisters crowded in. Some of them held swords. They gripped them stiffly, as if they’d learned how to fight by reading about it.

  Ten librarians against two pirates. Brine hoped Cassie and Trudi wouldn’t hurt them too badly. But then the ranks of Book Sisters parted and another woman walked into the room. She was dressed in a library robe like the others, but while everyone else walked almost silently, her shoes had heels that clicked on the floor. Brine fought the urge to stand up straight and push her hair back neatly.

  Ursula took a step back. “Mother Keeper, I was just—”

  “Be silent,” snapped the Mother Keeper. She folded the hood of her robe back with thin hands. She had a sharp and pale face, framed with yellow hair, and her lips, painted pink for some reason, were set in an angry line. “These people don’t have a proper appointment. They should never have been allowed in. Take your daughter and go to your room. I’ll deal with them.”

  Ursula bit her lip. Brine could see the struggle in her face. If she obeyed the Mother Keeper, she’d have to keep the lie going forever. But if she told the truth now, she’d lose Tom, maybe forever.

  “Come on, Tom Girl,” whispered Ursula.

  “Stop!” shouted Brine. Her voice surprised everyone, including herself. The Mother Keeper’s sharp frown told her she ought to keep out of this, and she almost agreed.

  Almost, but not quite. She snatched Boswell’s book from the table where it lay and held it up by the corners. “We’re leaving,” she said, “and Tom’s coming with us. Stand aside, or the book gets it.”

  Books: the one thing the librarians cared about more than the rules. Cassie gave a grunt that sounded suspiciously like laughter. Brine took a step toward the door, and the Sisters edged back from her.

  The Mother Keeper stopped her. “Yes, destroy the book,” she whispered. Her voice was as thin as a paper cut. “Aldebran Boswell’s last journal. The record of his voyage to Magical North, and there is only one copy in the whole world. Rip it up, then. Tear out the pages. Destroy that piece of knowledge forever.”

  Brine looked down at the book. Boswell’s name was on the front cover. Inside, thin scrawling handwriting, almost unreadable, and drawings of maps covered the pages.

  Her hands trembled. Boswell’s own book, in his own writing. Cassie gave her an encouraging smile; Trudi just looked confused. Tom met her gaze, and she saw the hope die in him. He nodded slightly to show he understood. He wouldn’t have been able to damage a book, either, especially not that one.

  Brine shut her eyes and tore out the first page. The thin paper came away with a little stab of sound that echoed the sudden pain at the back of her throat.

  The Mother Keeper screeched. Brine held up the severed page. “There are plenty more where this came from. Shall I go on?”

  “Get back,” the Mother Keeper whispered to the Sisters. Slowly, they sheathed their swords and shuffled away from the door. Brine gripped Boswell’s book on either side of the spine.

  “We’re leaving,” she said. “If you try to stop us, this book is confetti. Tom, if you want to come, you have to come now.”

  She walked through the door between the murderous gazes of the Book Sisters, with Cassie and Trudi on either side of her. Tom hopped from foot to foot in a fury of indecision. Then, as the door started to close, he squeaked, “Sorry, Mum,” and dashed through after them.

  * * *

  They clattered up the stairs, Brine walking backward and holding Boswell’s journal up by the corners. It seemed to grow heavier by the second, so that her arms were trembling by the time they reached the iron door at the top. She stepped through backward into sunlight and lowered her hands with a moan of relief. She couldn’t believe what she’d just done.

  “That made for a change,” said Trudi cheerfully. “Cassie trying to talk us out of trouble, and Brine resorting to violence.”

  Brine felt empty inside, as if she’d torn something out of herself along with the book. She slid the ripped-out page back inside the cover and handed it to Tom. “You can mend it, can’t you?”

  He nodded, his eyes wide. “No one’s ever threatened a book for me before.”

  Brine smiled back, feeling better.

  “Well,” said Cassie, “that could have been worse.” She looked a little queasy as she gazed down the steep cliff path to the boat. Trudi set off first, and Cassie followed. Tom came last, dragging his feet now that the chance to leave the island had become a reality.

  They reached the bottom, and Cassie let out a long breath that sounded like she’d been holding it all the way down. “I’m sure your mother meant well,” she said. “She only wanted what was best for you.”

  Tom shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter now,” he said in a tight little voice. “I doubt I’ll ever see her again.” He lifted his glasses to rub his hand across his eyes and sniffed.

  Cassie gazed into the distance, watching the birds circle over the cliff. A few minutes ago, they’d been hurrying to get away, yet long minutes passed and still Cassie didn’t move. Brine wondered what she was looking at and then she spotted a figure high above them and she understood.

  “Well,” began Cassie at last, “let’s—”

  “Tom!”

  It was a real, actual shout. The call echoed off the cliffs, sending birds screeching for cover. Ursula ran down the cliff path awkwardly, partly because her robe kept wrapping around her legs and partly because she was clutching several objects to her chest with both arms. She slid to a halt at the bottom and thrust them at Tom. A birdcage containing a pair of black and white gulls and a bag large enough to hold several books—and judging by the corners that pushed through the cloth, that’s exactly what it did hold.

  “I’ve brought your things,” she said. “And messenger gulls, in case you want to write home.”

  Tom flung his arms around her. Cassie put her hand on Brine’s shoulder and steered her off to wait by the boat.

  “Thank you,” said Brine.

  “For what?”

  “For this.” She felt her eyes prickling as she looked at Tom and Ursula. Nobody on Minutes would have hugged Brine good-bye. Only Tallis Magus and Penn Turbill knew she’d left, and they wouldn’t care for long. Cassie was the first person she’d met who’d really cared about anyone. “And for everything else, too,” Brine added. “Even though you tried to sell me and Peter. You meant well.”

  “I usually do,” said Cassie. “That’s the problem.” But she looked a bit misty-eyed.

  Ursula drew away, then hugged Tom once more and ran back up the path. He stood and watched her go. When she’d reached the top, he straightened his shoulders, pushed back the hood of his robe, and gathered up his things. He walked to the boat and clambered in, holding the birdcage in front of him like a shield.

  Brine’s throat burned. If it weren’t for her, Tom would be safe in the library right now. They could have walked out and left him—maybe they should have walked out and left him. But here he was, leaving home, leaving his only family to join the Onion on a voyage that might end in disaster. Now Brine knew what Cassie felt like, never sure what was going to happen next.

  The boat rocked gently as they pushed away from land. Tom immediately turned green and threw up over the side. He refused to let go of the birdcage, though. He wouldn’t even let go of it when they climbed the rope ladder back onto the Onion.

  Peter came running and stopped when he saw Tom.

  “Peter, this is Tom,” said Brine. “He’s a librarian. Tom, this is Peter. He’s a magician.”

  Tom’s mouth dropped open. “Really?”

  Peter flushed. “I’m still learning. Why are you wearing a dress?”

  “It’s librarian uniform,” said Cassie crisply. “Right. Brine, you’re in charge of Tom. Tom, you’re in charge of reading Boswell’s book. And…” She caught Ewan Hughes’s gaze. “And Peter,” she finished, “you’re in charge of comi
ng with me—right now.”

  CHAPTER 17

  BOILED SEAGULL PIE

  Take two seagulls per person and boil overnight wrapped in old socks. When done, pick the meat off the bones and return to the cooking pot with lots of water, rum, and whatever vegetables you can find. Cover the pot with a thick layer of pastry and set over the fire for four hours. The pastry will still be raw in the middle, but if you put a slice on the plate and spoon the filling over the top, nobody will notice.

  (From COOKING UP A STORME—THE RECIPES OF A GOURMET PIRATE)

  Peter’s stomach dropped through the deck. Cassie knew. The thought echoed in his head. She knew about his visits to Marfak West. She’d probably guessed he’d been learning magic from him. He followed her to the far side of the deck, his footsteps slow and heavy. Glancing behind, he saw Brine taking the birdcage from Tom and Tom running back to the side of the ship with his hands over his mouth. Peter might have been curious about Tom if it weren’t for the fact that Cassie was waiting.

  He straightened. Deny everything. He’d never talked to Marfak West, he’d never been near him, he’d never even heard of him.

  Cassie turned to face him. Her fingers played with the emerald around her neck. “I owe you an apology,” she said.

  “I’ve never—” Peter began. He stopped. “Pardon?”

  Cassie dropped her hands to her sides. “I was counting on the fact that one magician would be drawn to another. I was also counting on the fact that if Marfak West thought you were sneaking down to see him against my orders, he’d be more likely to talk to you. But I forgot how young you are, and how good Marfak West is at twisting the truth. And, of course, I couldn’t tell the rest of the crew what was going on in case they said anything to you.”

  Peter wished he knew what she was talking about. “Am I in trouble?”

  “Of course you’re not in trouble. I used you to get information out of Marfak West, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

  This was even worse than being in trouble. Cassie wasn’t furious with him, she wasn’t going to punish him, but she’d used him. Without saying a word to him first, without even thinking about what he might want. It was just like Marfak West had said—people will all want your power and nobody will want you.

  No. Marfak West is a liar. He twists the truth.

  But hadn’t Cassie just done that, too? Peter dropped his gaze. If Cassie had used him, at least it meant she thought he could be useful. It wasn’t much to hold on to, but it was better than nothing.

  “So has he told you anything?” asked Cassie.

  Did she really think she could just apologize and then expect him to tell her everything? Peter shifted from foot to foot. “He’s been teaching me magic. He offered, and it seemed like a good idea to go along with it.”

  “Of course it did,” agreed Cassie. “I’ve got a feeling things are going to become a lot more difficult from now on. We’ll be crossing the Gemini Seas next—that’s where we sank Marfak West’s ship. Whatever else he wants, he certainly wants revenge for that.”

  Magical North was just the start of the journey, Marfak West had said, but he hadn’t said what was going to come next. The words stuck in Peter’s throat. Marfak West deserved nothing from him, but did Cassie deserve anything more?

  “What are you going to do?” he asked. He was half-afraid she’d give up on the voyage altogether, turn south, and send him back to Minutes. The moment the thought was in his head, he knew that, no matter what else, he didn’t want to go back.

  Cassie didn’t say anything. Peter looked up at her and she smiled. “If Marfak West wants us to go north, whatever is there must be worth having, and I’m going to make sure we get it before he does.”

  “But Marfak West isn’t looking for Magical North,” said Peter. The words felt heavy in his mouth, as if he’d become a traitor by saying them. Cassie’s gaze turned curious and Peter felt his cheeks burning. “He told me. He believes it exists, and all the treasure, but it’s not what he wants. And I don’t think he wants to stand on Magical North and look for starshell, either.”

  Cassie nodded as if he’d told her something she’d already guessed. “Thank you,” she said. “I think it’s better if you stay away from him for now, but keep practicing your magic. I’ve a feeling we’re going to need you before this is over.”

  “I’ll do my best.” He tried to match her smile. “As long as you promise not to try to sell me again.”

  “It’s a deal,” said Cassie. “To tell you the truth, I’m glad that didn’t work out. I thought I was doing you a favor, finding you a safe home, but we’re all going to be a lot safer with you on board.”

  She ran back to join the others. Peter watched her pull Brine aside. Whatever she was saying, Brine didn’t seem to like it. Good, he thought. He sat down on the deck and took the starshell piece out of his pocket. He thought about the pirate captain who’d tricked and used him, and about the magician who might try to kill him, and he didn’t know which one of them he should distrust more.

  He sighed when he saw Brine and the new boy heading his way. Tom was clutching that stupid birdcage again. They’d want to talk to him, and he didn’t feel like talking to anyone right now, especially not Brine. And the way Tom kept staring at him was already annoying, and the boy had been on the ship for less than ten minutes.

  Peter walked away to the deck rail and leaned against it, hoping Brine would take the hint and go away. She didn’t, of course.

  “What did Cassie want?” she asked.

  Peter shrugged. “Nothing. Just talking about magic.” He jerked his head at Tom. “Does he know we have Marfak West on board?”

  Tom nearly dropped the birdcage. “Marfak West? But he’s dead. The stories—”

  “That’s the thing about stories, you see,” said Peter. “They’re all made up. Marfak West is alive, he’s here, he’s locked up in the brig, and he’s going to show us the way to Magical North. If he doesn’t murder us all first,” he added with a grin.

  Tom’s face turned so white Peter thought he was going to fall down. He felt a flush of triumph. He bet Tom had never expected this when he’d left his safe library to go adventuring.

  “Stop being horrible, Peter,” said Brine.

  “I’m not being horrible. I’m being realistic. If you’re going to go dragging people along on this voyage, they deserve to know what they’re getting into.” He turned on Tom. “And you can stop staring at me like I’m something special just because I can do a bit of magic.”

  Tom dipped his head. “I’m not,” he said in a low voice. “I was staring at you because you’re a boy, and I’ve never seen another boy before. They didn’t allow them on Barnard’s Reach.”

  Peter didn’t know what to say to that. It felt like a hard, angry knot inside him had suddenly begun to unravel.

  “Though being a magician sounds amazing,” said Tom.

  For some reason, this made Peter laugh. “I’m only an apprentice, really.” He took the birdcage out of Tom’s hands. “We should find somewhere safe for this. What do messenger gulls eat?”

  “Fish. And seaweed. And old rope—anything you give them, really.”

  The three of them walked back across the deck together. Anyone watching might have thought they were friends.

  * * *

  By the time they’d found somewhere to hang the birdcage (moving Zen out of the way about twenty times) and Peter had shown Tom around the top two decks of the ship, Peter was beginning to like having a new person on board.

  They sat down to eat as the sun was setting. “I’ve never eaten boiled pie before,” said Tom politely. Peter doubted anyone had ever eaten boiled pie before, and not many people seemed to be eating it now.

  Ewan Hughes wandered over to them, carrying a bundle of clothes and a pair of scissors. “Thought you might like to lose the hair and get into some trousers,” he said to Tom. “You don’t need to look like a girl now that you’re out of the library.”

 
Tom retreated on his bottom. “I don’t look like a girl. I look like me, and I want to stay that way.” He tucked his hair inside his robe and put his hands over his head protectively, as if he thought Ewan was going to cut all his hair off there and then.

  Ewan’s eyebrows rose in surprise, then he laughed. “Why not,” he agreed, sticking the scissors through his belt. “If you can’t be yourself on board the Onion, then where can you?”

  Tom smiled in relief, but he kept a wary eye on Ewan as the pirate went back to join Cassie. Brine pulled Tom to his feet. “Come on, you can help me clear up. Are you coming, Peter, or have you got practicing to do?”

  She asked casually, as if it were perfectly normal to invite him to join in. Peter started to shake his head, then thought better of it and nodded.

  He enjoyed the next hour. Gathering up plates, sweeping away bits of soggy pie crust that people had tried to hide when Trudi wasn’t looking. Some of the crew even pointed out bits he’d missed, as if he was normal and not a magician they wanted to stab with cutlasses. Then, when they were done, Brine taught Tom how to climb into the hammocks and they lay there, seeing how far they could make them swing, until they heard Cassie shouting.

  * * *

  “We are going to find Magical North,” said Cassie when everyone was gathered round. “We don’t just have science on our side, we have magic—and we have Boswell’s book. Tom, what does Boswell say about the next part of our voyage?”

  Tom blushed as everyone turned to look at him, then produced Boswell’s book from a pocket in his robe. The torn-out first page had been tucked neatly in front. “The fifth day of Balistes,” read Tom. “Today we left Barnard’s Reach and turned north.” He paused, reading on silently, smoothing each page down as he turned it. “They sail for a while. Nothing much happens. The twelfth day of Balistes. We left the Gemini Seas behind us and entered uncharted waters. The crew have named this place the Sea of Sighs. The storms came upon us suddenly. Thunder first, then lightning, and finally the wind.”