The Harpy's Song

by Logan Joss

  For the rest of the morning, Trevor roamed the vessel, trying in vain to engage the crew in conversation. He was fascinated by the flying galleon and quizzed everyone he could find about what it was that made the vessel fly, but each time he was met only with grunts and groans and impatient shouts of ‘get out the way’ and ‘stand over there’. Finally, he was forcibly removed from the deck after accidentally tripping a midshipman and nearly sending him tumbling over the side to his death. He returned sheepishly to his quarters.

  He opened the door cautiously, hoping to find Mèlli in a better frame of mind, but was stopped in his tracks when he saw that the boy was dressing. He was pulling the frilly shirt over his head and Trevor could see that the whole of his midriff was wrapped in thick bandages. He backed up and pulled the door to behind him. He paused for a moment and took a breath to calm his nerves before going back into the room.

  ‘I thought you’d have changed out of that by now,’ he said, pretending to have entered for the first time.

  ‘I would have if they hadn’t taken the rest of my clothes by the time we went back to our rooms this morning,’ Mèlli said with a scowl. ‘Where have you been anyway?’

  Trevor made Mèlli laugh by telling him all about his exploits around the galleon and was pleased that his friend’s sour mood began to evaporate.

  Soon afterward, a crewman knocked on the door and summoned them to the mess deck where the midday meal was being served. The boys were shown to the captain’s table, where captain D’ehlfiùs sat with his officers. They sat down shyly under the tolerant gaze of the men.

  ‘Ahh, our esteemed guests have arrived,’ the captain said, raising a glass to the boys.

  Once they were seated, the meal began in earnest and the captain regaled the crew throughout with tales of his past voyages. Having heard such tales many times before, Mèlli had to try hard to look interested, but Trevor listened intently, evidently impressed by the feats of bravery and the many adventures of the captain and his trusty galleon. Despite this, he found his thoughts wandering several times during the meal to the sight of Mèlli’s bandaged body. He wondered whether he should ask Mèlli what had happened. Had he been injured? Or had someone hurt him? Trevor was concerned for his friend but worried that Mèlli might get defensive if questioned and didn’t want to cause any friction just as they were embarking on a voyage together. So he decided to keep quiet.

  The following day aboard the Leviathan’s Roar, the boys set about exploring the lower decks. Being familiar with such vessels, Mèlli gave Trevor a guided tour all the way from the bilges at the stern, through the magazine filled with cannonballs and upwards to the forecastle. Trevor spent hours hanging over the edge of the deck watching the landscape below, never tiring of the ever-changing view that sauntered past beneath them. Scattered towns and villages became sparser as they moved further from the city and the land transformed from fertile pastures, with herds of grazing boodaloofes, into rocky heathland.

  Trevor had been pestering Mèlli to reveal the secret of how galleons flew ever since boarding the vessel and it was on the second day that Mèlli, having had enough of his incessant questioning, finally relented and promised to show him. Unfortunately, this meant breaking several of the captain’s rules and entering a forbidden area, but this didn’t deter Mèlli. He waited for a change of watch, believing this to be the best time to sneak off unseen, before leading Trevor towards the heart of the ship. They scurried along passageways and through bulkheads before descending down a narrow companionway which ended at a bolted hatch.

  Mèlli turned to Trevor with bright eyes and a smug grin. ‘This is it,’ he said, dropping to his knees to unbolt the hatch. ‘So much for the captain’s rules hey?’ he laughed.

  Anticipation welled in Trevor’s chest and his breath quickened as he waited for the secret to be revealed.

  ‘Oi!’ someone yelled from behind.

  They froze.

  ‘What are you two doing down here?’ the first mate demanded as he approached them, his face contorted into a furious scowl. He grabbed them both by the scruff of the neck and hauled them off. ‘The captain will ‘ave you strung from the yardarm for this,’ he said through gritted teeth as he marched them to the navigator’s room.

  The captain was busy studying charts and turned to face them as they entered. His face fell as he saw their guilty expressions and he shook his head with disappointment as his first mate explained what he had caught them doing.

  ‘I had thought we could get through this journey without incident, but it seems you two cannot be trusted,’ Captain D’ehlfiùs said. ‘You will be confined to your quarters until further notice.’

  A gruff crewman marched them to their room and thrust them in, throwing a pack of cards in after them. ‘You might want these,’ he said and closed the door behind him.

  Trevor picked up the cards and examined them. ‘What are they?’

  Mèlli took the cards from him. ‘We might as well play, seeing as we’re stuck in here. Do you know how to play shö?’ he asked, already knowing the answer.

  Mèlli taught Trevor how to play. It took a while for Trevor to get used to the strange symbols on the cards, by which time they were summoned to the mess hall for dinner.

  After breakfast the next day, they pleaded with the captain to allow them out of their room. He agreed, with the proviso that they were permitted only onto the deck of the forecastle. But that was good enough. Relieved to have a break from playing cards, they ran up to the deck and inhaled deeply, feeling the warmth of the sun on their faces. The landscape below was now covered in thick forest.

  ‘Daknat’òr,’ Mèlli said, the word trembling on his lips.

  Alerted by the fear in his voice, Trevor turned and saw the color drain from Mèlli’s face as he peered over the edge before hastily retreating to the safety of the deck.

  ‘Are all those stories true about that place?’ Trevor asked, indicating the forest with a slight nod. He took one last look and then sat down next to Mèlli.

  ‘I don’t know and I don’t want to find out. Not even Mum would go there, and she would go anywhere.’

  ‘But trees can’t really eat people can they?’ Trevor said, looking concerned.

  Mèlli shuddered. ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ he said quietly.

  They lay back on the deck and watched the passing clouds in silence for a while, each lost in his own thoughts.

  ‘What is it you dream about?’ Mèlli asked after a time.

  Trevor hesitated. ‘What…what do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, what do you run from?’

  Trevor turned away slightly, feeling uncomfortable, so Mèlli continued. ‘I had nightmares too after my parents were killed. I saw their faces over and over. What he did to them. But in the dream, I was in the room with them. I could have stopped them but I didn’t, I just stood and watched.’

  ‘How did you get over it?’ Trevor asked gently.

  ‘I haven’t. I’ve just learned to live with it.’

  Their eyes met and they felt a growing connection as they shared the weight of their grief and guilt.

  ‘I see him everywhere, you know,’ Mèlli said. ‘A shadow lurking in every crowd. I’m always waiting for him to reappear and finish the job.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The one who killed them.’

  ‘I can’t imagine what you must feel.’

  They sat quietly again.

  ‘And who haunts your dreams?’ Mèlli asked.

  Trevor was silent for a moment before replying. ‘My father. He’s dead too. I was there. I see it over and over, just like you. But…’ He paused, trying to quell his overwhelming emotions.

  Mèlli reached out and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. ‘But what?’

  ‘Your parents were murdered and there was nothing you could have done about it, you’d have been killed too. But…’

  Yells and shouts came from the crew, amidst cries of ‘Avast!’.

  Tr
evor and Mèlli sat up quickly, startled. The ship shuddered and slowed down, throwing them forwards. They scrambled to their feet. All around the vessel, crew members scurried to take their positions. The captain appeared on the deck, shouting orders.

  Trevor grabbed hold of Mèlli, suddenly scared. ‘What’s going on?’

  Mèlli said nothing but pointed straight ahead of the ship. Trevor squinted his eyes and could just make out what looked like a wisp of black cloud in the distance directly in front of them.

  Mèlli pulled his mother’s pendant out from under his shirt and gave it a quick kiss before tucking it away again safely. ‘We’ll need Zúbenelgenúbi to send more than the Zephyr now,’ he said. He pushed Trevor towards some rigging. ‘Hold on, it’s going to get bumpy.’

  Trevor looked around and saw the panicked expressions on the faces of the crew. His surroundings slowed to a blur as waves of fear washed over his body. He felt powerless.

  Somewhere amongst the shouts and cries, Trevor heard the name ‘Nirikö’.

  22

  The Withered Woods

  THE VESSEL LURCHED as it turned, putting the fast-approaching fleet to its stern. Trevor pulled himself upright and clung to the rigging as the galleon rocked beneath him, before realizing that Mèlli was nowhere to be seen. Worried for his friend’s safety, he released his grasp and looked around, frantically searching for any signs of him among the frenetic scrambling of the crew.

  Four men stood on the forecastle, where Trevor and Mèlli had been relaxing only moments before, straining to haul a hidden mast up from within the deck. As it pivoted upright, the spinnaker sail was released and, like liquid fire, copious folds of red cloth spewed out and immediately tautened as they caught the wind. Trevor was thrown to the deck as the bow dipped and the galleon raced forward, gathering speed quickly under the power of its new sail. He lay there stunned as crewmen trampled over him, focused on resetting the rigging, and only just managed to crawl to the side of the vessel and grab hold of a stanchion. He pulled his legs and arms in around it and held on tight.

  At that moment a silhouette appeared and a hand reached out towards him. He uncoiled and raised his head to see Mèlli’s concerned face.

  ‘Quick! We need to get to the stern,’ he said, pulling at Trevor’s arm.

  Trevor scrambled to his feet and was dragged along the deck by Mèlli until they reached the back of the vessel. To his horror, he saw that what was once a single wisp of black cloud had now broken into three and resolved into the predatory form of hundreds of pursuing vessels.

  Suddenly, with a crack of splintering wood, the whole galleon shook. A cannonball had clipped a spreader on the main mast and sent it plummeting to the deck, along with a tangled mass of rigging and torn sail. Amongst the shouts for help and the cries of pain from those trapped beneath, crew members climbed the mast, undeterred, to cut loose the fallen spreader and release the tension in the rigging.

  ‘They’re shooting at us!’ Trevor cried, turning to Mèlli. He saw that his friend was crouching on the deck, unrolling two bundles of soft leather. ‘What are they?’ he asked.

  ‘We need to get off this galleon, Trevor,’ Mèlli said, untangling a harness. ‘One way or another, it’s going down and we’re not going to be on board when it does.’

  ‘Going down? Getting off? What do you mean?’

  ‘We can’t outrun that fleet and D’ehlfiùs knows it. He’ll ditch the vessel in the forest. It’s better than being blown out of the sky, or worse—captured.’

  Mèlli tied a line from each bundle to cleats on the side of the galleon. ‘Either way, we’re not staying to find out.’ He grabbed a bundle and shoved it at Trevor. ‘Put this on,’ he said.

  Trevor watched as Mèlli first pulled his jacket closed over his pouch and did up the buttons before attaching the harness.

  Trevor copied him, wriggling into the straps and fastening them across his waist and chest. ‘What now?’

  Just then, both boys were thrown to the floor as another cannonball hit, this time penetrating the deck at the base of the mast. With a mournful groan, the towering mast began to fall.

  ‘Quick! We’ve got to jump now!’ Mèlli shouted as he climbed up onto the gunwale.

  ‘What do you mean, jump?’

  ‘How else did you think we were going to get off?’

  Trevor looked back and saw Nirikö’s fleet closing in and preparing to flank their galleon. With his heart in his mouth and his legs trembling, he climbed up onto the gunwale beside Mèlli, hardly daring to look down. Below them, the forest canopy loomed ever closer as the wounded galleon rapidly lost altitude. In a moment of horror, Trevor watched as Mèlli grabbed his arm and jumped, pulling them both off the side of the vessel.

  His stomach immediately leaped to his throat as they fell. The whistle of the wind in his ears became a shriek as they plummeted faster and faster. Then he felt Mèlli release his arm again. He fixed his gaze on his friend, wanting to reach out, but his arms felt pinned to his sides. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again quickly against the rush of wind.

  Mèlli vanished from view as his tether caught and he flew upwards out of Trevor’s field of view, leaving him all alone. He lifted his head and saw the leather bladder streaming out above him. Just then, his tether caught too and his bladder inflated, slowing his descent to a steady drift. He heaved a sigh of relief as his body relaxed and his heart rate slowed towards normal. His first thought then was of Mèlli. He scanned the skies but could see only the Leviathan’s Roar plunging into the forest in the distance, smoke streaming from its tattered hull. At the mercy of gravity, he could only watch as the canopy of trees rose to capture him.

  Daknat’òr. The Withered Woods. The name made sense to Trevor now, for beneath the lush, green canopy that he had seen from the galleon, the trees were black and oozing. Some said the forest was haunted; others said it was the trees themselves that were evil. As Mèlli had refused to talk about the forest, Trevor was left with a feeling of unease and fear.

  The soft leather bladder hissed woefully above Trevor’s head. He hung for a moment as the air drained out and the deflated bladder slipped through the branches, sending him bumping to the ground to land on the soft mulch of the forest floor. The putrid stench of decay filled his nostrils, making him wretch. As he scrambled to sit up, his fingers sank into the cloying silt that covered the ground. He wrestled with the clasp on his harness, but before he was able to release it, the rancid slime that clung to his fingers made him wretch and vomit violently. He managed to crawl on his hands and knees to where the tattered remains of the bladder lay, before vomiting again. Exhausted, he used the soft leather to wipe the filth from his hands and face and then staggered to his feet.

  He looked around unsteadily, scanning the forest for Mèlli. Far above his head, the thick canopy blocked out the daylight, casting an eerie gloom of perpetual night. He squinted his eyes against the darkness, trying to remember which way he had been facing when he landed. He called out for Mèlli, but his voice seemed small, as if it had been devoured by the forest. With no bearings to go by, he chose a direction and began to search for him, calling out as he went.

  The going was slow through the tangled roots of the forest floor and Trevor was beginning to tire. His calling became more and more frantic as the hope began to drain from his body.

  ‘Mèlli!’ he yelled.

  ‘Mèlli,’ came a low rasping voice from all around him.

  Not his voice. Not Mèlli’s.

  Fear prickled over his body. He tried to run but the thick roots tripped him and he fell. A throaty voice groaned ahead of him. He grabbed a slimy branch from the ground and held it out in front of him, trembling.

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Trevor,’ a voice croaked, almost inaudible.

  He lowered his branch. ‘Mèlli, is that you?’

  There was no reply. Trevor waited expectantly, holding his breath and straining his ears to listen. The sound of something falling behin
d him made him spin around, startled, holding the branch out ahead of him.

  ‘Mèlli? Mèlli?’

  Cautiously, he crept over to investigate. There, lying atop the rotting mulch, was the familiar form of a boot. He looked around him before glancing up into the trees. Indistinct in the darkness, he could just make out the flailing shape of a person dangling from the branches, evidently trapped.

  Relief flooded Trevor’s body, overwhelming him for a moment. ‘Mèlli! Thank God!’

  ‘Get me down from here,’ Mèlli croaked in a strangled voice.

  ‘Oh yeah, of course.’

  Trevor speedily climbed the knot-covered trunk to reach the branch from which Mèlli hung. Straddling it, he edged his way along until he reached the snared bladder and, with some effort, he managed to free it, sending Mèlli plummeting to the ground.

  ‘Ouch! Thanks for the warning, Trevor.’

  Trevor scrambled back down and helped his friend to stand, remove the harness and put his boot back on. ‘I’m so glad you’re okay,’ he said. ‘I thought I’d never see you again.’

  Mèlli just smiled. ‘Come on, we’ve got to get out of here,’ he said, marching off quickly in the direction that Trevor had been going. Trevor scampered after him.

  Mèlli kept up a brisk pace through the gloomy forest, nimbly avoiding all the gnarled roots and low-hanging branches.

  ‘Hey, slow down,’ Trevor said, finding it hard to keep up.

  ‘No, we have to keep moving.’

  ‘Do you even know where you’re going?’ Trevor whined. He stopped walking and sat down on a tree root.

  ‘No, Trevor, don’t sit on there. Come on, we’ve just got to keep going.’ Mèlli seemed agitated.

  ‘But this is hopeless and I’m so tired.’

  ‘We’ll be safer if we keep moving. If we stop they’ll…’ Mèlli glanced around nervously.

  ‘They’ll what?’ Trevor said, looking around but seeing no-one.

  Mèlli leaned in close and whispered, ‘The trees.’