by Scott Mebus
“Are you doing that?” Rory asked her, shocked. Soka had no answer, as alarmed as everyone else. She felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Maybe you should come over here and calm down before the guards take notice,” Perewyn’s voice said. “I think you’re getting a little worked up.”
The white-haired medicine man guided her toward the opposite side of the hold, and the shocked prisoners parted before her. Perewyn sat her down, and Rory knelt by her side.
“What happened over there?” Rory asked, but Perewyn waved him off.
“Give us a moment, boy,” he said. “She needs time to regain control.”
Rory backed off, giving her worried looks. Soka smiled to say it was all right, but inside, she knew this wasn’t true at all. She looked across the hold to see if anyone else had been hurt by her burst of magic, but Perewyn sat down in front of her, cutting off her view of the other prisoners.
“I believe I have figured you out,” he told her.
“What? Am I cursed?” For that was what it felt like.
“Just calm down,” he advised her. “I won’t say a thing until you have relaxed a little bit.”
Soka breathed, in and out, calming herself. Finally, Perewyn nodded.
“Good. It’s quite simple, really. What you did just then . . . that is beyond the powers of any pau wau I have ever seen. To call forth magic like that, without words or wampum, it is extraordinary. You could not do this inside the Trap, correct?”
“No, not at all,” Soka assured him. “I was still learning basic spells from my mother.”
“But then the Trap fell and you felt the land for the first time. What happened then?”
“I became sick, actually,” Soka told him, a little embarrassed. “I threw up, repeatedly, and none of my magic worked as before. Eventually, I couldn’t make anything happen at all, even after I recovered from my sickness. Until that moment in the caisson, anyway.”
“When the voice whispered in your ear,” Perewyn prompted.
“Yes. Did she give me some sort of power?”
“No,” Perewyn said firmly. “It was there all along. You are very strong, and always have been, I bet, but you did not know it because you were cut off from the land. Your mother might be this strong, as well, though I find it hard to believe. She grew up with the land in her blood, so she would have recognized it and known how to channel it. You, on the other hand, have never felt this power before. You have never felt the land before. And it overwhelmed you. Made you sick. You didn’t know how to handle such power, so you locked it away, instinctively. Without even knowing it, you cut yourself off from your own abilities. It wasn’t all at once. At first, I’m sure some of your spells worked. But the power . . . it was too much. Finally, you cut yourself off completely. Until the caisson.”
“Do you know who that woman was?” Soka asked, her eyes wide.
“I have my suspicions, but I will not voice them without more proof. I think I can help you, Soka. I can help you channel your new power and bring it under control. It won’t happen all at once, but I know a few simple tricks that can put you on the right path. Will you work with me, right now? We have some time before they return for you.”
“Okay,” Soka agreed, hope blooming in her chest. “I will try.”
Perewyn began to speak, taking her wrists in his hands as he explained what she needed to do. Soka listened, and for the first time since the Trap fell, she began to feel like maybe she could be whole again. It would take work, but it would be worth it if she could help her people and all of Mannahatta with the gift that had been given her.
Admiral Howe barely glanced at Bridget as she placed the bottle of wine onto his desk. The admiral’s quarters were pretty nice, she decided, looking around. Curtains on the big windows overlooking the stern of the boat, big comfy chairs in every corner, a large bookcase filled with old, dusty books—everything seemed pretty expensive. Even Howe’s desk was fancy—it was made of solid, ornately carved wood, though papers covered the surface. Bridget shuddered to think of all the reading those papers demanded.
She’d been so concerned with looking around, that she hadn’t noticed that the cook had already put down his tray and backed out of the room, leaving her alone with the admiral. She started as she realized Howe was staring right at her.
“Looking for something to steal, maybe?” Howe asked her, his eyes hard. Bridget thought fast.
“Oh no, ye matey!” Bridget answered, trying to be as salty as possible. “I’m just a-makin’ sure yer happy wit yer rum!”
“But this is wine,” Howe said coldly.
“Ah, but to an old sea dog like meself, all spirits are like to rum,” Bridget said, mind racing. “Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum, ye get me?”
“Is there something wrong with you, boy?” Howe asked. “You sound like an idiot.”
“Me mother dropped me on me head when I was a wee lad,” Bridget replied, improvising furiously.
“Would you like me to finish the job?” Howe said, and for a terrifying moment Bridget thought he meant it. But the admiral laughed to himself. “You’re smart enough to be scared, aren’t you, boy. You’re an idiot, that is obvious, but you might be the brightest man on this ship besides myself. Here I was, happy to discover that Kieft’s man was in fact an impostor, when I come back to my cabin to find this waiting for me.” He waved a sheet of paper. “A message, from Kieft, that he will be here this afternoon. No one felt it important to tell me this letter was waiting for me! Even though I have more paper on this desk than I will ever read.” Howe lifted a sheaf of papers in the air as an example, and Bridget’s heart skipped a beat. She could see the word Five written on the top page. Those were from Adriaen’s journal! Howe had them!
Excitement at discovering the whereabouts of Adriaen’s journal warred in her mind with terror over the news that Kieft would be arriving soon. Kieft would take one look at Rory and it would be all over. She began to back away, hoping to make a speedy escape and try to warn the others. She reached the door and turned to leave.
“Stop right there!” Howe’s voice commanded her. She turned back to him, certain she’d been found out. The admiral wagged a finger at her. “All your talk of rum has made me thirsty for harder stuff than wine. Bring me back a bottle. Perhaps that will take the edge off my meeting with Kieft. Go!”
Bridget bowed and ran out of the room as fast as she could. She didn’t stop until she reached the far end of the ship, certain Howe was going to realize her deception. When no one came to throw her overboard, she calmed down.
“Bridget!”
Bridget started, almost falling over the side. Fritz was at her feet, waving at her. “You almost frightened me to death!” she scolded the battle roach, who apologized. “Have I got some news for you,” she said, proceeding to tell him all about Kieft and Adriaen’s journal. Fritz’s face turned white at the news that Kieft was coming.
“We have to get off this boat,” he said. “I need to talk to the others, down in the hold. Wait here and I’ll be back.” He disappeared into the floor, leaving her alone, staring out at the sea, hoping no sails appeared over the horizon anytime soon.
Rory sat against the hull, staring at Soka across the crowded hold. She was whispering with the medicine man, who seemed to be trying to teach her something. He wished he could help, but he didn’t know how. De Vries had been circulating among the prisoners, with Cornelis eagerly, though clumsily, following, trying to see if they could foment some kind of insurrection, and they’d found a few willing helpers. But the guards didn’t seem too worried—obviously knowing what was going on and not caring they watched with amused eyes as the two patroons moved from group to group. That fact didn’t really surprise Rory—after all, they were in the middle of the ocean surrounded by enemy soldiers. Where were they going to go?
Rory could see Tammand sitting by himself, far from Soka. The disgraced Munsee retained a little of his haughty demeanor, and the sight of the proud warrior reduced t
o such a pitiful state made Rory feel bad for the guy, even though he knew he shouldn’t. At least the guy’s tattoos had stopped fighting one another. Talk about embarrassing . . .
Soka’s eyes closed and then, suddenly, an oversize flower shot up from the floorboards, sending the prisoners reeling back. Soka’s eyes shot open and her hand flew to her mouth, surprised at her own power.
“What is that?” De Vries asked, stepping up beside Rory as the prisoners buzzed about this strange plant in their midst. Rory tried to quiet them, but it was too late.
“Hey, what are you lot doing?” one of their guards shouted, coming over to the bars to see what the fuss was all about. He spotted the huge flower and whistled. “Will you look at that! That’s magic! Who’s doing that? The admiral told us to keep an eye out for magic. So stand up, or we’ll come in and give you all a taste of what’s waiting for whoever’s making magic in there!”
A few of the prisoners began to glance at Soka, moving away from her. In a moment Rory knew she’d be discovered. He’d decided to step forward and claim responsibility himself, but then Tammand pushed past him, raising his hand.
“That is mine,” he told the guards. “I cast the spell to amuse myself.”
“Well, that was a mistake, wasn’t it,” the guard told him, unlocking the cage to step in and grab Tammand.
As they pulled him away, Rory whispered, “Thanks.”
Tammand didn’t answer, ignoring Rory’s gaze as he was led away. Soka came up beside Rory.
“He’s trying to win back my respect,” she said, her voice worried. “I didn’t ask him to. Why does he do these things!”
Perewyn looked worried himself. “We’re running out of time. You need to work on controlling yourself or the next time it will be you being led away.”
“Rory!” Fritz was back, sneaking around the feet of the prisoners to speak to his friends. Soka and Perewyn leaned in to hear what the roach had to say, followed by the Raritans and the patroons and a few other prisoners. Fritz told them all about Kieft’s imminent arrival, as well as the fact that Adriaen’s journal was sitting on Howe’s desk. They needed a plan, he told them. And they were running out of time.
“Can someone cause a diversion of some kind?” Perewyn asked Fritz. The battle roach shook his head.
“I tried the firecracker trick again upstairs to lure those guards away from you, but they didn’t even budge.”
“Can Bridget do something?” Soka asked. Rory gave her a look, not happy to involve his sister, but Soka shrugged. “She’s good at being noticed, what can I say?”
“I’ll see what she and I can come up with,” Fritz replied. “What will you do if she does manage to catch the guards’ attention?”
Perewyn glanced at Soka. “We’ll make magic.”
17
BRIDGET CAUSES TROUBLE
Now that Roosevelt had declared that the time for action was approaching, Nicholas redoubled his efforts to fill the ranks of the city militia. Lincoln and Simon tagged along as he crisscrossed the island, as did Alexa, though she had her misgivings.
“I just feel like we’re moving forward too blindly,” she confided to Lincoln. “Many in Kieft’s army joined out of fear, or misplaced anger. Are we going to kill them all?”
“They chose their side,” Lincoln declared confidently. “They’ll get what they deserve!”
“I don’t think they understand what side they’re on,” Alexa replied. “This still revolves around Kieft. I have more faith in Rory discovering the way to end this than Roosevelt and his big battle.”
Nicholas proved to be a good speaker, inspiring spirits and gods across Mannahatta with his call to protect their beautiful metropolis. As their ranks swelled, Alexa’s fears grew. Was this the only answer—to fight to the death? She worried that this was what Kieft really wanted. To bathe the city in blood. In that case, they were playing right into his hands.
Bridget watched Fritz scurry away on the back of Clarence. So they needed a diversion? She glanced around the deck at the sailors going about their duties while the soldiers stood guard. How was she going to distract them?
A few minutes before Fritz showed up, a pair of redcoats had emerged from below with one of the prisoners. Bridget had been shocked to realize that the prisoner was Tammand! What was he doing here? She didn’t get to ask him, as the redcoats marched him right toward the admiral’s quarters. She overheard the other soldiers explaining what was going on.
“They caught the savage working magic in the hold,” a redcoat had said to his fellows. “The word from above is ‘no shamans,’ so the admiral is going to question the poor fool and then weigh him down and toss him in the ocean.”
Bridget had every reason to hate Soka’s brother, but she didn’t wish that fate on anyone, even someone who would shoot at his own sister. But before she could think on it any further, Fritz had shown up with his instructions. She’d told him about Tammand then put her mind to the task at hand. Distract, distract, distract. But how?
“Hey, watch yourself!” one of the redcoats said to a sailor who was running past. The sailor glared at the soldiers before returning to his work. “Idiot water monkeys,” the redcoat muttered to his friends, who snickered.
“Landlubber blockheads,” the sailor quietly remarked to his fellows, who nodded, rolling their eyes. An idea suddenly sprang into Bridget’s head, and she quickly ran to grab her red coat, ready to do what she did best: cause trouble.
She threw on the jacket to appear as a redcoat, sidling up to the soldier who had made the remark. “Cor, guv’nor!” she said in her brilliant Cockney accent. “That’s not right what that water monkey just called us!”
“Why, what did he say?” the redcoat asked, his eyes flashing. His friends leaned in to hear.
“He said we’re only stationed on this boat ’cause we’re not smart enough to be in a real fight. Are we gonna let them talk like that to us, guv’nors?”
The redcoats began to mutter angrily among themselves at this apparent insult. Bridget quickly stepped back, dropping her coat to the floor to return to looking like a sailor. Then she knelt down by the sailor who’d spoken earlier.
“Argh! Did ye hear that, matey?” she said, slipping into her flawless pirate accent. More sailors gathered around as she spoke. “Them landlubbers just said we’re such bad sailors we aren’t even allowed to work a boat that actually goes anywhere! Those blighters are sayin’ we can’t run a ship! We gonna take that? Argh!”
The sailors glared at the soldiers, who were glaring right back at them. The first sailor stood, striding up to the redcoat who’d accosted him earlier. “You got something to say?” he said belligerently.
“Do you?” the redcoat spat back, his friends moving in behind him. Bridget quickly threw on her coat and ran to the back of the redcoats.
“Go back to sailing the boat with no sails, you dirty sea dog!” she called, then dropped her coat and ran around to the back of the sailors. “Why don’t you go back to protecting us from all those dangerous seagulls, you musket-for-brains!” The two groups were openly snarling at each other, now, each jostling the other as the insults flew. The first soldier pushed the first sailor, who in turn pushed back. Growing impatient, Bridget called out, “Yer mother’s a humpback whale!” and pushed a soldier into the first sailor. That did it. The pushing turned into punching and a full-scale brawl was under way.
Bridget stepped back, watching the fighting spread across the deck. Her brother was right, she thought to herself, she really was a natural-born troublemaker. Amazing, really.
Fritz had returned to the hold, telling Rory and the others about Tammand. Soka’s face went white, and Perewyn tried to calm her.
“You need to concentrate on your magic,” Rory heard him whisper.
“What kind of diversion is Bridget planning?” De Vries asked Fritz, who shrugged.
“She’s a resourceful girl,” the battle roach assured him. “She’ll think of something good, I’m sure.
”
A faint sound drifted down from the deck. De Vries cocked his head. “Sounds like a fight,” he said as the yelling and cursing grew louder. “A big fight!”
Rory shook his head as the soldiers in the hold walked over to see what the commotion was about. “How does she do it?” he asked no one in particular.
“She’s gifted,” Fritz replied with a smile.
“Now is our chance,” Perewyn said to Soka. “Do what I showed you! You don’t need to worry, I am right here.”
Nodding, Soka closed her eyes, muttering. Rory watched her anxiously, wishing he could help her. At first nothing seemed to be happening, but then Cornelis gasped.
“Look!” he said loudly, and De Vries had to clamp a hand over his mouth to shut him up. Thankfully the guards were gathered at the foot of the stairs, distracted by the fight on deck. None of them turned to see the small green shoots growing up from the wood floor around the bars that locked the prisoners in. The shoots grew higher and higher, wrapping around the bars. Soka muttered one word particularly strongly and the shoots pulled apart, bending the bars. De Vries turned to the prisoners, who had all gathered behind him.
“We have numbers on our side,” he whispered. “Overpower, grab guns, and finish it quickly! Ready . . . go!”
De Vries led them through the now-open bars, launching himself at the distracted guards. They heard him at the last minute, but by then it was too late. He had knocked them both senseless and grabbed their guns.
“Come on!” he said quietly, and led them up onto the deck.
Rory blinked in the light as he stepped onto the deck and into a mass of confusion. The soldiers and sailors were busy grappling with one another as their superiors tried to stop the fight.
“Stop this foolishness before the admiral finishes with the prisoner or there will be hell to pay!” one was saying as he tried to pry apart two combatants. Rory caught sight of Bridget, who was standing in the corner, waving proudly at him.