The Eye of the North

by Sinead O'Hart

  “Now, now. D’you think we’re fools, or what?” The deep voice had a layer of grease over it, like oil on water.

  “Do you want an honest answer to that? Because—”

  “Enough. We know you’ve got the kid—one of our fellas saw ’er bein’ taken in ’ere. So forget the stupid tricks.”

  “We don’t have time for this!” shouted another voice. “Just get the girl and come on!” Emmeline felt her breath drying in her throat, and an uncontrollable shiver started to rattle through her. Quickly she thought about her satchel again. If her fingers would stop trembling long enough to undo the straps, she could maybe grab her catapult….

  “Ems!” The hiss came from her left, and she snapped her head around to face it. Thing, crouched on the floor, met her eye. “This way!” He jerked his head toward a door behind him, which Emmeline felt sure must open to the ship’s corridor and escape. It was within reach, if she sprinted….

  “Someone move this table right now!” barked the deep-voiced man.

  That decided it. Like she’d received an electrical jolt to the spine, Emmeline jumped up and scurried toward Thing as quickly as she could.

  “Nice one!” he said, and grinned.

  “Oi! Captain!” came a yell right behind Emmeline. “You’ve got to see this!” Thing flicked his eyes toward something above Emmeline’s head, and his expression changed. Emmeline didn’t have to see what he was looking at; if Thing’s fear-filled face hadn’t been enough, she could feel her pursuer’s hot, clammy breath down the back of her neck too. Like she was reaching for a distant star, she stretched out her hand to Thing, and he grabbed it firmly. A split second later she was on her feet and running, and Thing was dragging her toward the door.

  “Get ’em! Now!” The deep-voiced man roared so loudly that it would have shattered the cabin’s plate-glass window if it hadn’t already been lying in a million sparkling pieces all over the carpet.

  “Aye, aye!” came the reply from at least ten different mouths. Emmeline squeaked and picked up her feet.

  “Go! Run, you two!” cried Edgar, appearing out of nowhere to unlock the door. Emmeline stared at his shirtsleeves, ripped and bloodied, and the trickle of red tracing its way down his face. In his hands he held a gun, and in his eyes was the glint of determination. “We’ll cover you. Just get out of here!” But as Thing bumped his way past, Edgar grabbed him by the upper arm. He leaned in close, muttering fast, never taking his eyes off the men. “Hide. In the highest place. Do you understand?” Thing, pale as a dead fish, nodded quickly before wrenching his arm out of Edgar’s grip. Edgar flashed a grin, his face slick with sweat. “Good lad. We’ll find you!” Then he flicked his eyes toward Emmeline and nodded at her before reaching behind himself to yank the door open wide. “Look after her, boy!” he shouted as Emmeline and Thing staggered out into the corridor, which seemed almost ridiculously neat and clean after the mayhem they’d left behind.

  “Sir—yes, sir!” shouted Thing, struggling to keep from falling over.

  Emmeline hurried after him, wondering what had happened to her ability to look after herself, as Edgar slammed the door shut behind them.

  “What ’ave I got myself into?” Thing muttered as they hurtled down the corridor. “See a young girl, all on her lonesome, figure she’d be good comp’ny on the way to Par-ee. Oh, what a great idea that turned out t’be.” Emmeline felt the bones in her hand crunching as Thing tightened his grip on her fingers. He threw her a look, too, his forehead like a landslide over two angry, piercing eyes.

  “What are you staring at me like that for?” said Emmeline. “It’s not like any of it is my fault!”

  “No? Oh, right. Sorry. Maybe it was another kid they were searchin’ for back there, then. My mistake.”

  “Oh, leave me alone.” Emmeline’s feet hurt, and her head was still ringing from the explosion, and Thing was going just a little too fast for her liking. “Where are you taking me, anyway?”

  “Somewhere high, or didn’t you hear what that feller Edgar said?” They were approaching a corner, and Thing flattened himself and Emmeline up against the wall before peeking out, very carefully, and checking in both directions. Satisfied, he yanked her forward and on they went.

  “Yes, I heard,” muttered Emmeline, trying to pull her fingers out of Thing’s sweaty grip. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to do it!” Thing whipped his head around to face Emmeline, and they ducked into a wide doorway.

  “What?”

  “Who says I have to explain myself to you? Let me go, will you!”

  “No chance. Now tell me what your plan is, seein’ as it’s bound to be so much better than Edgar’s.”

  “You met him ten seconds ago!” cried Emmeline. “How do you know we can even trust him?”

  “Well, let’s see. First, he saves our lives by draggin’ us out of a threatenin’ situation. Then he saves our lives by throwin’ us out of a threatenin’ situation. Then he promises to come an’ help later, once the threatenin’ situation, the one he saved us from already, is over and done with. Will that do?”

  “Well, yes—but how did he even know I was on this boat?” said Emmeline, her voice an almost-hiss.

  “Well, he…obviously, he…” Thing’s words faltered before stopping altogether.

  “Exactly. So maybe he’s in on it?” Emmeline watched Thing’s face as this thought settled. After a few seconds he frowned at her, like she was a jigsaw piece he couldn’t find a place for.

  “You have some serious trust issues, y’know that?”

  “I don’t see how there’s any call for that,” Emmeline sniffed, trying to straighten her dress and settle her satchel with her one free hand.

  “Explains a lot, actually,” mused Thing.

  “What is that supposed to—”

  “Never mind. So, what do we do, eh?”

  Emmeline bit her lip as she thought. “I suppose we could go to that high place and wait for Edgar there. Be ready for him, if you know what I mean. Take him by surprise and then make him—I don’t know. Confess or something.”

  “Right, yeah. And plan B?”

  “We’re on a ship, Thing,” said Emmeline. “It’s not like we’ve got a lot of choice about where to go.”

  “I wonder where y’learned that one.” Thing’s eyes grew alert again as he stuck his head out of their hiding place. “Highest place I know of on a ship is the crow’s nest, right?”

  “This is going to involve climbing, isn’t it?” asked Emmeline as they started jogging down the corridor. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was right behind her. She marveled at how strange her life had become—a couple of days ago she’d thought it was only her careless parents who were a threat to her continued existence. Now, it seemed, everyone was giving it their best shot.

  “Right. Here y’go,” said Thing as they stopped at a steep metal staircase that led, as far as Emmeline could see, up into shadows.

  “What’s this?” she asked as he shoved her onto the steps, his quick eyes keeping careful watch.

  “It’s a staircase, isn’t it?” he said, only half listening.

  “Yes, but where does it go?” snapped Emmeline, already three or four steps up, her feet making faint clangs on the treads.

  “Jus’ get a move on!” said Thing impatiently.

  Emmeline reached the top, the sudden coolness of the air like an unexpected breeze. She found herself on the ship’s uppermost deck, which was open to a sky filled with dark clouds and going faintly purple around the edges as evening began to set in. The deck appeared to spread out for miles. Gentle lights were spaced regularly along the waist-high railing, and muffled shapes in the growing darkness were probably benches. Most importantly, it looked deserted.

  “This way. Come on!” Thing’s whisper jerked her out of her thoughts. She turned to follow him, taking a few uncertain steps toward the center of the deck, where, as she’d feared, a very tall, spindly-looking structure was to be found, lashed to the boards by a
multitude of wires. A light burned in the small cabin at the top of an extremely narrow ladder, and Emmeline swallowed hard as she stared up at it.

  “Ain’t got time to waste,” muttered Thing, jumping onto the lower rungs. “You follow me, yeah? Or d’you wanna go first?”

  Emmeline’s stomach rolled over. “You go first,” she said. Thing stopped climbing and leaned over the side of the ladder to peer down at her.

  “You’re not scared, are ya?” he asked, coming down a rung or two.

  “I don’t—I don’t like heights, really,” said Emmeline, coughing to cover up the tremor in her voice.

  “No problem,” said Thing cheerfully. “I mean, it’s getting so dark up ’ere you can barely tell it’s so high.” With that, he scampered up the ladder, not even looking where he was putting his feet.

  “I don’t like the dark, either,” muttered Emmeline, wrapping her fingers around the nearest rung and taking three deep breaths, in through her nose and out through her mouth. She nodded and grabbed another, higher rung. She found footholds and started to climb, telling herself that her knees weren’t trembling—it was merely the movement of the ship. Slowly, slowly, she pulled herself up.

  “Will you shake a blasted leg!” Thing’s voice fell on her like a handful of iron filings dropped from a height, trickling all over her skin. She clung to the ladder and allowed the rattle of terror to skitter right through her before she trusted herself to answer.

  “I’m coming!” she whispered back, her voice hoarse.

  “Yeah, well—come quicker!”

  As if his voice had summoned it, a huge, searing light switched on somewhere on the vast deck below. Emmeline froze.

  “Ems!” she heard through the pounding of the blood in her ears. “Now, now, now! Get up here now!” Fear had made her hands and feet numb, but Emmeline moved.

  “Hands, then feet,” she muttered, trying to keep calm. “Hands, then feet.” The light started to sweep over the deck in great arcs, like it was searching for something.

  It was searching for something, she finally understood. Her.

  “Please, Ems! Hurry up!” Thing’s voice seemed closer, and she looked up to see him barely hanging off the top few rungs of the ladder like a flower on a long, narrow stem. She could see the anxiety on his face, but his outstretched fingers were just too far away for her to reach.

  The light flicked in her direction and finally found her, making her eyes water as she struggled to focus. Thing was yelling at her, and she felt the ladder shudder as he started to descend. Her brain screamed as it tried to understand what was happening. Then something slapped Emmeline’s face like a whip, and a weight dragged down her outstretched arm. Almost as if she’d been grabbed by a huge, rough hand, she felt herself being yanked off the ladder, and then, sickeningly, she was falling toward the deck far below.

  “Gotcha!” came a voice, thick with smoke and halitosis. Emmeline landed among a forest of arms and hands, all of which grabbed and held her in a way that made one thing very clear—there would be no running away. Through her blurred and streaming eyes, Emmeline saw a net made of thick, coarse rope being lifted away from her and untangled from around her arms and legs. With a heavy thunk it was flung to the side once she was free of it.

  “Yer won’t need this where you’re goin’,” said a voice with a cruel laugh in it, and Emmeline felt two quick jerks as someone slashed her satchel away from her back, cutting its short straps without a second thought.

  “No! You can’t have that! Give it back this instant!” she yelled, trying to aim a kick. Her pulse pounded in her throat as she watched one of the men—she recognized some of them from the group that had attacked the cabin earlier, but most were total strangers—throw her satchel aside as if it were nothing. Distantly she heard something smash, and her heart broke.

  “Now, now! A sprightly little thing!” a man laughed, somewhere close. “I’m sure that’ll go down well, up north.”

  “Here! Shut it, Stanley. You know we’re supposed to say nowt about that,” said another voice, the owner of which currently had his hands around Emmeline’s wrists. She felt something tight and very uncomfortable being used to bind them, and before she could cry out in protest, a foul-tasting gag was shoved into her mouth.

  “Yes, well, Harold, you was told not to name names, yeah?” The man called Stanley was kneeling, very painfully indeed, on Emmeline’s outstretched legs as he secured her ankles with another rope. Emmeline fought back a wave of panic as she realized she was totally powerless now—she couldn’t run, she couldn’t use her hands, and her satchel, which she’d never once in her whole life been without, was lying broken and discarded yards from her head. Her eyes burned.

  “Where’s the lad?” another voice said. Emmeline looked toward the voice and saw a short, squat man in a woolen hat squinting up into the darkening sky.

  “Shall we search for ’im, sir?” A younger man, his foot already on the ladder, looked like he’d relish the chance to get climbing.

  “Nah—small fry. We got what we came for. Right, boys! We’re away!” Emmeline saw the younger man remove his foot from the ladder, looking thunderous, just before she was yanked up off the deck by many hands, none of which were gentle. Then her whole world went topsy-turvy, and she realized she’d been slung over someone’s shoulder.

  “Hmmmmmfff!” she yelled through her gag as the person carrying her started to walk and then to jog away from the ladder, her satchel—and Thing. “Plliiiffff!”

  “Oh, leave it out, do,” snapped someone nearby. “Who d’you think’s gonna hear yer? Save yer energy for the voyage, I would.”

  The voyage? Where are we going? Red-hot tears started to bathe her eyes, and her nose began to soften. She wiped it on the back of the man carrying her, hoping it left a proper mess. She tried her best to kick at anyone and anything she could reach, but very quickly she felt a hand burrow into her hair, its fingernails scratching her scalp. The man carrying her slowed to a walk, and her head was jerked up, painfully. Emmeline saw another man in front of her, skinny, pale as moonlight, his eyes hidden in shadow over high, sharp cheekbones. He had a face that was full of folds and creases, and his strangely flabby lips looked overlicked.

  “You will behave,” the pale man said in a voice that made her feel like she’d swallowed a bucket of ice water. “You will behave like a lady, and not like a hooligan. Do you hear me? One more kick, Miss Widget, and we will fling you overboard, where the sharks can enjoy snacking on your flesh. Do you understand me?” Emmeline closed her eyes, a single scalding tear sneaking down her cheek. “Good,” said the man, releasing her.

  “Are we ready?” called the pale man, striding away from Emmeline.

  “Aye, aye, sir!” came the reply. There were too many voices to keep track of.

  Emmeline felt a strong, cold breeze blowing across her face. It smelled like salt, and it smelled of large, open spaces, and it smelled of all the fresh air in the world. The man carrying her slung her off his shoulder and thumped her onto the deck, where Emmeline saw she was right at the edge of the ship. Her head clanked off the metal railing as she stared straight down into the roaring sea below.

  Into the roaring sea, where a brightly lit vessel sat waiting.

  It was smaller than the passenger ship, of course, but that still made it the second-biggest boat Emmeline had ever seen. She squeezed her eyes shut again as she thought about what was likely to happen next.

  What if they drop me, what if I fall, what if a rope breaks, what if the person carrying me has, I don’t know, a heart attack or something?…She yelped when she felt hands going around her, securing her in some sort of harness, pulling straps taut and fixing buckles securely. She thought, for a panicked second, about Thing, wondering whether he’d been hurt. What if that young, impatient sailor decided to disobey orders after all?…

  “Make ’er ready!” yelled a voice, and Emmeline felt herself lifted up and over the railing. She felt the world like a huge, dark v
acuum all around her, star-speckled above and sea-foamed below. She screamed into the gag, but it made no difference whatsoever. Very few ears could hear her, and those that could didn’t care.

  “Heave!” yelled someone else, and Emmeline fell. It happened so quickly that she didn’t have time to scream again. Before she’d even reached the bottom, the men had started their own descent, rappelling down the side of the ship using wires and ropes, as silently as ghosts. Within a couple of minutes they were all gone, and the top deck was completely deserted. The only things visible were a discarded net, a damaged satchel, and a lot of empty space.

  “Whoop,” said a small voice, loud in the silence.

  With shaky hands and trembling knees, Thing emerged from the crow’s nest. It took him a long time to make it all the way down the ladder, because he kept missing the rungs. His feet seemed numb and clumsy, and they didn’t want to work properly. Eventually he stood over Emmeline’s battered satchel, wondering whether there was anything inside it that could help her and if he even had permission to touch it.

  After a few minutes he bent down, picked it up, and held it close to his chest. Then he wiped his nose on his grubby sleeve and, satchel and all, started running helter-skelter for the stairs, hoping he could remember the way back.

  “Whoop! It—whoop—was so fast I—whoop!—I couldn’t—”

  “Yes, yes—that’s fine. Just calm down, please, won’t you?”

  “But we can’t—whoop—jus’ calm down! They’ve taken ’er! Or don’t you—whoop—understand what kidnappin’ actually means?”

  “Look, Thing—is Thing your name?—you’re not going to be able to help Emmeline if you suffocate to death. All right? Now calm down. I mean it. Get your breath, and then tell us everything you remember.” Thing nodded, trying to get his thoughts in order. He was still clutching Emmeline’s satchel to himself and had refused to let it go. The severed straps, hanging like broken arms at either side of it, reminded him how important it was to get Emmeline back and return her most treasured possession, as soon as possible.