The Goblin's Gift

by Conrad Mason

  ‘People,’ the governor was saying. ‘That’s what they’re carrying.’

  By the time Newton lowered the spyglass, his heart was beating fast.

  ‘Everything all right?’ asked Ty, from his shoulder. ‘Only you look like you’ve just stepped in a puddle of griffin bile.’

  Newton shook his head. ‘They’re mine,’ he said quietly. ‘Tabitha Mandeville and Joseph Grubb.’

  ‘The Demon’s Watch,’ said the governor.

  ‘Aye. The Demon’s Watch. But where are the rest of them?’

  Chapter Six

  JOSEPH HAD PUT on clean dry clothes, but he was still shivering. It felt as though the cold of the sea had got right into his bones. And if he never took another trip with a mermaid in his life, it would be all right by him.

  He and Tabitha sat in the hallway on tall wooden chairs that were probably priceless antiques but weren’t very comfortable. The opposite wall was covered in fancy dark green wallpaper, ancient paintings and a fine layer of dust. A clock ticked quietly somewhere. They waited in silence for the governor to call them in.

  Joseph had never imagined he would return to Wyrmwood Manor, let alone so soon. The last time he’d been here, he’d been sneaking around in the dark with the Demon’s Watch, trying to avoid blackcoats and rescue old Governor Wyrmwood from his crazy mother. Now, in the daytime, the manor looked more or less the same, except that someone had taken down the portrait of Arabella Wyrmwood, leaving a pale, dust-free square on the wall.

  It seemed cruel somehow, even after everything she’d done. As if she had never existed. She’d been so young in that picture. Nothing like the terrifying witch she’d become.

  Now there were no more Wyrmwoods left, and the new governor had commandeered the manor as his headquarters. The family home had become the setting for a council of war.

  ‘For the love of Thalin, stop humming,’ said Tabitha.

  ‘Am I … ? Oh. Sorry,’ said Joseph. It was just an old song his mother had taught him long ago. The only thing he had left of her. It helped to keep him calm, running through the words in his head.

  Scrub the dishes, scrub them clean, cleaner than you’ve ever seen …

  ‘Just remember, I’ll do the talking,’ said Tabitha. She was sitting on the edge of her seat, tapping one foot on the carpet and twisting her fingers together over and over.

  ‘It’ll be all right,’ Joseph said gently. ‘Newton’s bound to rescue them. He wouldn’t just leave them on that rock.’

  ‘I know that,’ she snapped. ‘I’ve known him all my life, remember?’ She drew in another breath but paused for a moment, considering. When she spoke again her voice was softer. ‘It’s just – it’s not him I’m worried about.’

  ‘Skelmerdale?’

  ‘Skelmerdale.’

  Joseph had never seen the new governor before. But Tabitha was right. Whatever Newton wanted, it would be up to Skelmerdale to decide what was done about the merfolk. He was in charge, after all.

  Still, he was sure there was something else too. Tabitha was so tense. She’d been acting oddly ever since they left the island.

  ‘Tabs? What you said about me being too, um, weak to get back …’ Tabitha’s body went rigid, and he instantly regretted bringing it up. ‘I mean … Never mind.’

  Tabitha turned to look at him. There was confusion in her big grey eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again.

  ‘Look, I’m, er … I’m sorry,’ she said eventually.

  Joseph was so surprised he didn’t know what to say. Tabitha looked away quickly, and he felt his face grow hot.

  ‘Well, it’s not …’ he said. ‘I mean, I’m glad you’re here.’

  ‘Glad?’

  ‘Of course. Imagine if I was on my own … I’ve got a cutlass now, but I don’t exactly know how to use it. Not like you with your knives.’

  A ghost of a smile hovered on Tabitha’s lips. ‘I’ve seen you practising. You’re just lucky that old wooden figurehead outside Bootles’ doesn’t fight back.’

  Joseph grinned. ‘Hey! You need me too.’

  ‘Well, someone’s got to scrub the dishes clean.’ She was definitely smiling now. ‘And the company’s nice, I s’pose.’ In an instant she was frowning again, and Joseph felt suddenly awkward. ‘I really am sorry. Sometimes I … Well … It’s just—’

  There was a rattle of a doorknob, and the door opposite swung open. A portly, pale-skinned elf stepped into the hallway, dressed in the purple and gold livery of the Cockatrice Trading Company. The governor’s company.

  ‘His honour will see you now,’ he said.

  Tabitha rose hurriedly and entered the room, with Joseph following. It felt like she was as thankful for the interruption as he was.

  They came through into the library. At least, it had been the library. Old Governor Wyrmwood’s bookcases had been cleared out to make space for an enormous table, with a map of the Middle Islands spread out on it and model ships sitting on top. The glass display case containing the ancient Sword of Corin seemed to be the only thing that remained the same.

  Blackcoats were stationed around the room, and a cluster of officers stood behind the table, talking earnestly and pointing at things. Joseph saw that Cyrus Derringer, commander of the Dockside Militia, was watching them with suspicion. He swallowed. Then he spotted the shaven head of Newt leaning over the map, and Old Jon beside him. That made him feel a little calmer.

  A tall, white-haired man stepped out from among the group. There was something about him – an air of command – and suddenly Joseph felt very safe. This had to be Governor Skelmerdale. And he looked like the kind of person who got things done.

  The governor spread his arms wide and smiled. ‘Welcome,’ he said.

  ‘Your honour,’ said Tabitha. She nudged Joseph, bowing low, and he hurried to copy her.

  ‘These are my watchmen, your honour,’ said Newt. ‘But the last time I saw them, they had a ship and a crew. And where are the rest of the Watch?’

  Joseph and Tabitha looked at each other. Then Tabitha took a deep breath and began to explain.

  By the time she’d finished, Governor Skelmerdale was leaning on the table, his brow furrowed as he gazed into the distance.

  ‘Your honour,’ said Newton. He was keeping his voice calm, but Joseph could tell from the sparkle in his eyes that he was excited. ‘This is good news after all. We’ll send out search parties. Find this Pallione and bring the merfolk over to us. With them on our side, we’ll stand a chance, even if the armada is as big as Tabitha says.’

  ‘Allow me, your honour …’ said Cyrus Derringer, giving Newt a murderous look. ‘As commander of the Dockside Militia, I will be delighted to carry out my duty and find this mermaid for you.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter who does it,’ burst out Tabitha. ‘As long as it gets done.’

  The governor held up a finger, and everyone fell quiet. He was still frowning.

  ‘We have lost time over this,’ he said. ‘But that can’t be helped. We will set sail tomorrow at dawn. To engage the League.’

  ‘Engage the League?’ said Joseph. His ears twitched with embarrassment as officers and blackcoats turned to look at him.

  The governor stepped round the table and knelt down. For a moment his gaze made Joseph feel as if everything was going to be all right.

  ‘Yes, my little friend. You’re very young, so I don’t expect you to understand. But if we waste time hunting for this mermaid, the League ships will sail right into our harbour before our fleet has even left port. So to save the town we must let your friends go. I am truly sorry. But you must understand that this is war. And in war, we lose people. There is not always a happy ending, like in story books.’

  Joseph could almost feel the hope draining out of him.

  ‘But—’

  ‘We will defeat the League though, you may be sure of that.’ The governor rose, patting Joseph on the head. ‘They may have the advantage of numbers, but we have spiri
t, and a home to protect. We will prevail.’ Joseph got the feeling that the governor wasn’t talking just to him any more.

  ‘Your honour,’ said Newton. There was a note of panic in his voice. ‘If we set sail now, we can’t win. Not without help. We have to—’

  ‘Have faith, Mr Newton. That is what we must do. Have faith.’ Skelmerdale raised his voice. ‘Go, all of you, and prepare yourselves. Tomorrow, at dawn.’ He waved a hand and blackcoats began crowding towards the door, muttering to each other.

  ‘But we’re going to find that mermaid, aren’t we?’ Tabitha said, in a low voice. ‘We have to. We can stay behind in Port Fayt and—’

  Old Jon’s hand fell on her shoulder, cutting her off.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Newton. He was frowning, and Joseph realized there was nothing the captain of the Demon’s Watch could do.

  A voice rose behind them.

  ‘Mr Newton,’ said the governor. ‘A word, if you please.’ He was motioning to a corner of the room, by the large windows.

  ‘Wait for me outside,’ Newton told Tabitha and Joseph.

  ‘No need,’ said the governor. ‘The watchmen can stay. The children and the old elf.’

  As they followed Newton, Joseph caught a glimpse of Cyrus Derringer lingering by the map table, watching. His eyes narrowed in anger at Newt, before he clicked his boots together and marched out of the room. The door shut with a bang.

  Governor Skelmerdale was looking out of the window, hands behind his back, inspecting the immaculate green lawns of Wyrmwood Manor.

  ‘You are not afraid to speak your mind, Mr Newton,’ he said. ‘I respect that.’

  Newton shifted uncomfortably. ‘Just trying to do what’s best. For Fayt.’

  ‘For Fayt. Indeed. Well, I am sorry to disappoint you. The League’s fleet is strong, according to these children. I do not doubt it. But the merfolk do not concern themselves with the business of land dwellers, whatever they may say. They have not gone to war in centuries. Better to show strength in front of my officers than to trust in their help.’

  ‘Can’t blame them, your honour. With all the shark-pit owners fishing them out of the ocean, no wonder they don’t care too much for us.’

  The governor spun round, his eyes full of fire. Joseph flinched at the sight. He’d heard stories about the governor’s temper, but it was still a shock to see the rage flare up out of nowhere.

  ‘That’s enough. They are not to be relied upon. Do you hear me?’

  Newton stood his ground but said nothing. Almost at once, the fire left the governor’s eyes. He seemed suddenly weary.

  ‘You may leave the most important decisions to me, Mr Newton. But I do need someone with your … courage.’

  ‘Aye?’

  Joseph saw Tabitha’s fists clench – which meant she was either anxious or furious. Maybe both. Beyond, Old Jon waited calmly, taking it all in.

  ‘Indeed. Our flagship, the Wyvern, needs a captain. And I can think of no more suitable man in Port Fayt.’

  Tabitha’s mouth began to open. Before he knew what he was doing, Joseph reached out and took hold of her arm. Her temper was almost as bad as the governor’s, and if she spoke out of turn, she’d end up in the Brig – or worse.

  ‘Your honour,’ said Newton. ‘Surely Colonel Derringer would be a better—’

  ‘No. The elf is no good. You and I, Mr Newton, we are both leaders. We understand one another. Colonel Derringer will make a perfectly competent second-in-command, but he cannot inspire the men as you can.’

  ‘You’re saying Derringer will be on the Wyvern too?’

  ‘Indeed. And take young Tabitha and Joseph with you. Someone ought to keep an eye on them.’ He gave them a friendly wink.

  Joseph tightened his hold on Tabitha’s arm. If they sailed on the Wyvern with Newt and Old Jon, there was no way they could track down the mermaid – even without the governor’s permission. Which meant they wouldn’t be able to get the watchmen back. But what choice did they have?

  ‘Are you sure, your honour?’ said Newton. ‘The merfolk—’

  ‘I’ve already told you, Mr Newton, the merfolk are not like us. We cannot trust them. So what do you say?’

  Newton looked at Old Jon, who gave the slightest of shrugs.

  ‘Very well then.’

  Governor Skelmerdale stretched out his hand, beaming at last.

  ‘Congratulations,’ he said, ‘to the commander of the fleet!’

  Chapter Seven

  JOSEPH DREAMED. IT was market day, and he held his father’s hand tightly as they threaded through the crowds in the Crosstree Quarter. Stallholders reached out, trying to draw them in with promises of the juiciest shellfish, the sharpest dragons’ teeth and the fastest fairies in all the Ebony Ocean.

  They stopped at a little stall on a corner – nothing but a rickety table with a red-and-white striped awning. Spread out on the table were long, elegant feathers, each one gleaming with a hundred different colours. When the breeze ruffled them they shimmered red, gold and green.

  ‘Are they griffin feathers?’ Joseph asked.

  His father chuckled.

  ‘Bless your heart, Joseph, I’m afraid not. Griffin feathers are even bigger than these and you won’t get one for less than twenty ducats. No, these are cockatrice feathers.’

  The stallholder was a goblin, just like Joseph’s father. He leaned forward, taking a puff on his pipe.

  ‘Go ahead,’ he said. ‘You can touch them.’

  Joseph reached out and felt the nearest feather. It was silky and smooth, like his mother’s hair.

  ‘Which one shall we have, eh, Joseph?’ said his father. ‘Which one do you think your ma would like best?’

  Joseph stood staring for a long while. At last he picked one out – deep translucent green with flecks of silver and gold.

  His father grinned at him and winked.

  ‘Excellent choice, young ’un. Couldn’t have chosen a better one myself. And that’ll go nicely with her green dress too, won’t it?’ He counted out three ducats for the stallholder.

  Before they left, the stallholder pressed something into Joseph’s hand – a tiny red feather with a blue sheen.

  ‘That’s from a baby cockatrice,’ he said. ‘You keep it. And come back soon.’

  Joseph held up the feather, twisting it in his fingers so it turned from red to blue and back again.

  ‘What do you say?’ said Joseph’s father.

  ‘Thank you.’

  They were just turning to go when a voice called out behind them:

  ‘Eli.’

  Two muscular men were making their way towards the stall.

  ‘Hello, Eli,’ said one, grinning.

  ‘Morning, Ben.’

  His father’s grip tightened on his hand, and all of a sudden Joseph felt nervous.

  ‘This your boy, Eli?’

  ‘Aye. This is Joseph. Joseph, these here are Ben and Geoffrey. We all work together on the docks.’

  ‘Hello,’ said Joseph.

  Geoffrey leaned down towards him, and Joseph saw that he wasn’t grinning any more.

  ‘What’s wrong with your skin, boy?’ he asked.

  ‘There’s nothing wrong,’ said Joseph’s father. But Joseph noticed his ears twitch.

  Ben laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

  ‘Geoffrey’s just joking,’ he said, though it hadn’t seemed like a joke. ‘You’re a mongrel, ain’t you? Nothing wrong with that. You never told us, Eli. Little souvenir of a misspent youth, is it?’

  Joseph didn’t really understand, but his father shook his head.

  ‘This is our boy. Me and my wife Eleanor, we’re his parents. Isn’t that right, Joseph?’

  Joseph nodded.

  Ben grinned wider and whistled. Geoffrey just stood, silent, staring at them.

  ‘Well, we can’t stick around,’ said his father. He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. ‘Got to get going. See you lads tomorrow.’ And Joseph was steere
d away down the street.

  They didn’t say much as they walked home to the house with the green front door. And all the way his father kept holding onto his hand, as if Joseph might run away at any minute.

  ‘Pa,’ he said at last. ‘What’s a mongrel?’

  Someone was shaking him. His father, of course.

  ‘Wake up. Come on, wake up.’

  Joseph tried to roll away, but it was difficult because he wasn’t in a bed. A hammock, that’s where he was.

  Suddenly he was awake.

  He opened his mouth and a hand clamped over it. In the darkness, he could only just make out the blue hair on the silhouetted head. Tabitha.

  ‘Get up, Joseph. We need to talk.’

  He swung his feet over the side of the canvas and stepped down as lightly as he could. The lower deck was crammed with hammocks, and all around them was the murmur of snoring, mingling with the creaking of the ship. Newton’s ship – the Wyvern.

  He fumbled for his coat and shoes and pulled them on while Tabitha waited.

  ‘Bring your cutlass too,’ she hissed.

  Why in Thalin’s name would he need a cutlass? But by then, Tabitha had already picked it up and shoved it into his hands. On tiptoe, she led the way to the steps and climbed until they reached the top deck, underneath the stars.

  A cold breeze whipped across the harbour, rattling the rigging of the fleet and chilling Joseph to the bone. The bay was cluttered with ships rocking gently on the waves. It was so peaceful … Hard to imagine that tomorrow these vessels could be in the midst of a battle, smoke billowing, cannons roaring … Beyond the Wyvern’s stern, Port Fayt slumbered, a few lanterns glowing softly in the night.

  Tabitha grabbed him by the arm and pulled him across the deck, down into the shadows behind a cluster of barrels.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘We’ve got to get off this ship,’ she replied, as if it was obvious. ‘Who else is going to rescue that mermaid?’

  Joseph tried to shake off his sleepiness and understand what she was saying.

  ‘What about Newt?’ he said. ‘We’re supposed to stay on the Wyvern with him.’

  Tabitha rolled her eyes.