Darkwhispers Page 12

“Slow the engine, Welby. We’ll need to be careful,” said Harriet.

  Welby disappeared below deck, and in a moment, there was a whirr as the rumbling engines slowed to half power, then a quarter, then to almost nothing.

  Harriet clutched her compass.

  “Look at the water. Doesn’t it seem eerily calm?” breathed Felicity.

  Then they were swallowed by dense mist.

  The only sound was the bow of the sea-ship cutting through the still water. All around was impenetrable grey.

  Harriet looked down at Maudie and smiled reassuringly. “It’s all right. Just because we can’t see, it doesn’t mean we can’t navigate effectively.

  They carried onwards into the gloom.

  “Land ho!” Harriet called. “Steady … steady.”

  The mist had lifted a little so that they could see a hundred metres or so ahead. They were between tall jagged islands – narrow land masses piercing through the sea.

  “If we catch the hull on one of these, who knows what damage it’d do.” Welby frowned.

  Maudie quietly said, “We’re … we’re not going to turn back, are we?”

  “No!” Harriet, Welby and Felicity all said together.

  “We’ll need to work together. Maudie, take the forward starboard side with Felicity. Welby, take the forward port. Watch like hawks.”

  They were in a labyrinth of great rock pillars, curiously barren of life and quite unlike the islands they’d left.

  “We’re edging close portside!” Welby called.

  “Don’t adjust too far, Harrie; there’s not much left here,” called Felicity.

  Harriet glanced over her shoulder. “It’s clearing. I think we’re through the worst of it.”

  But no sooner had she said that, than the ship began to sway. Waves were building ahead, and a breeze began to ruffle Harriet’s hair. The clouds darkened even more, slowly at first, then more rapidly, as though the night was falling in triple time.

  Maudie tugged Felicity’s sleeve. “What are those dark shapes on the rocks?” She noticed that Felicity clutched her lucky spoon tightly.

  “I don’t know. Probably some foliage or … something…” her voice trailed off.

  Then a blaze lit up the sky in the distance, followed by the soft tumble of thunder a while after.

  “The storm’s coming in from the south; we’ll veer northwards,” Harriet called.

  Something caught Maudie’s eye on the nearest island. “Did that move?” she asked breathlessly, her heart pounding. Whatever the “it” was, it seemed to span several metres, plenty enough to keep her eyes trained on it.

  The ship veered north-easterly, but another flash lit up the sky not far away in front, followed by an enormous boom that made Maudie and Felicity yelp.

  Then the dark shape on the crag twitched.

  It was alive.

  A huge tentacled head lifted away from the vertical slab of rock and looked to the sky. It clung on with enormous clawed feet.

  “What is it?”

  Harriet was watching. “Keep calm; hold your nerve.”

  Then they noticed another, and another. The creatures were everywhere, clinging to the craggy rock. There was a curious whispering sound; was it coming from the creatures?

  “I don’t like this one bit,” Felicity hissed.

  “They’re the creatures in Ermitage’s journal,” Harriet said very quietly. “The darkwhispers!”

  “I thought Gilly said they were likely little bats!”

  Lightning lit up the sky once more, but this time in a great jagged wire of blistering light. The sea-ship began rocking even more, and there was a strange noise, as though the air was being whipped as one of the creatures took flight, then another, and another.

  “Maudie, Felicity, get below deck,” Harriet called.

  They both stared, paralysed by what was unfolding around them.

  “That’s an order!”

  Felicity grabbed Maudie’s hand. “Come on.”

  The creatures flew in an undulating movement with claws dragging behind, black leathery skin glistening with moisture. There was the soft hissing of air, as though the wind had a voice.

  Before Felicity and Maudie could reach the hatch to get below, one of the creatures landed right on top of it. Its great wings were folded inwards, so its front claws rested on the deck before it. Feelers flowed from its head and down the length of its spine towards its tail, which it flicked against the wooden boards. It observed them with smoky white eyes. Then it took a step towards them, and the strangest thing happened.

  Someone was whispering to Maudie. It was Arthur. She was back with Arthur in Brightstorm House, just before Dad left for South Polaris. She could see him at the door; actually see him as though he was in front of her and…

  As if from a great distance, Maudie heard Harriet call, “Full speed!”

  The ship sped up and the creature stumbled backwards, and Maudie and Felicity were thrown to the floor. As she hit the deck, Maudie saw hundreds of the creatures taking off from the rocks, spiralling up into the sky above. There was another flash of lightning, then another. Warm tropical rain pelted the deck like bullets.

  The creature righted itself and observed them once more, then fixed its eyes on Maudie again.

  She heard whispers. “It’s all right, everything is all right.”

  Maudie saw herself and Arthur in the garden of Brightstorm House, with their father. They were laughing and chasing around, playing tag. It was a beautiful memory; she was three years old and she was hungry for lemon biscuits that Dad had just baked, but they were laughing so hard and the warm sunlight dappled the garden, and it smelt of roses and … something was brushing her cheek and—

  Welby shoved her to the side.

  “Get back!” he yelled, jabbing the creature with a great stick. It retreated and took flight.

  Felicity helped her up, “Oh my, oh my!”

  “What happened?” Maudie groaned.

  “You walked towards it; it had its feelers on your face for a moment. I tried to pull you back and you pushed me away.”

  “I don’t … I don’t remember.”

  Felicity pulled her towards the back of the boat. Lightning flashed in swift succession, igniting the sky. The throng of dark creatures spiralled high above, their bodies sparked in the clouds as though, somehow, they were reacting to the storm, as though it was charging them.

  The sea-ship rocked violently, almost toppling them over. Harriet gripped the wheel.

  “Look out portside!” Welby yelled as a new island appeared from a patch of fog. Harriet spun the wheel hard, and the sea-ship lurched on the waves, creaking terribly.

  Above, the darkwhispers were circling them, getting closer and closer. The ship began spinning.

  One landed on the prow before Harriet. Once more she ordered Felicity and Maudie below deck, but they couldn’t even stand. Another landed starboard beside Felicity. “Maudie, get to the hatch. Save yourself!”

  Maude looked frantically around. Another was portside, close to Welby.

  The rain was torrential now, drenching the deck, and as Maudie tried to scramble to help Felicity, she slipped and fell.

  Then a bright red whoosh appeared above, as if from nowhere. Maudie looked up to see the muscular ruby chest of a bird driving huge, fire-bright wings, at least three metres wide, beating in rhythmic swathes against the driving rain. Its tail swept like a scarlet cloak through the sky. It seemed to make a direct route towards where Harriet gripped the wheel. The enormous bird landed behind her on the deck, stretched out its wings around her in a strange, protective manner, then opened its crimson beak and screeched at the darkwhispers: a cry as shrill as a knife slicing the air.

  Instantly, the darkwhispers began retreating.

  Before relief could even set in, there was a colossal bang and an explosion of rock and wood. Everything tumbled and rolled, and Maudie was thrown across the ship. She landed on her back, starboard side, then the ship tipped
further… Then water … everywhere. She was half-buried by splintering wood and water rising, engulfing her.

  Maudie kicked for the surface, fighting against the weight of her toolbelt. Above was chaos. Lightning, the darkwhispers fleeing, the fire-bird clutching the prow, the ship cracked and gaping and no sign of Harriet, Felicity or Welby anywhere. The waves were pulling her away from the ship. She yelled for Harriet.

  Then she saw it, not far away – the sky-ak was floating in the water. It was her only chance. She kicked with everything she had and reached for the side. A great swathe of mist enfolded her, all signs of the sinking sea-ship faded into grey as she was pulled and rolled by the waves. Hold on, she told herself. Hold on!

  She found the rope, twisted her hand in it and gripped for her life.

  CHAPTER 17

  DELUGE

  It was incredible how quickly the barometer had changed from fair to deluge. This was Arthur’s third deluge since arriving to Erythea. His ankle had swollen and bruised even more, and he’d been bound to bed with Ermitage applying all sorts of leaves and ground concoctions to help it heal (but Arthur had the distinct impression that Ermitage simply liked to experiment, as nothing seemed to help). Nonetheless, his ankle had started to feel better at last, so as soon as Arthur had seen that another deluge was on the way, he’d called to tell Ermitage, who was outside syphoning sap, and they had both sprung into action.

  Like a large, grey rabbit darting through the undergrowth, Ermitage gathered all the loose equipment from outside, hurling it through the open door. By now Arthur knew to dampen the stove, close off the chimney hatch, secure the shutters, then grab the accumulating equipment being thrown his way, and store it in its place. When the inside was secure, he went out on to the wooden decking and called to see if Ermitage needed help outside.

  “It’s all right, I’m almost done! Have you shut off the chimney?”

  “Yes, and I’ve dampened the stove.”

  “Good job, my dear old thing. Too risky to have that going in a deluge.”

  All around, the jungle floor had come to life in a variety of ways: some leaves were folding in on themselves and retracting, insects and animals were scurrying up tree trunks, others were burrowing into the marshy soil, while some were emerging, like the dormant greebers. Ermitage had pointed out these strange, snapping water lizards to Arthur during the last deluge, when one had tried to climb on to their wooden patio. They had razor-sharp teeth and thrived in the deluges by snapping up any creatures unlucky enough to be caught in the storm.

  A drop of water landed on Arthur’s nose as thunder growled somewhere in the west, and the soft patter of rain began, replacing the usual trill of insects and birdsong.

  “I’m just going to help this little thing,” Ermitage called out, picking up a snail so big that he had to use both hands. “Of course, this species is well adapted and can hunker down in their shell for over twenty chimes without air, but I do believe this dear old thing is sapient and rather fond of dry shelter, taking to human comforts during the odd deluge. I’ve called her Gert, after Gainsford back at the Geographical Society of Lontown. I did always have rather a soft spot for her.”

  Thunder rumbled once more, closer this time, and the forest darkened swiftly, as though time had sped up suddenly from day to evening. The rain quickened too.

  “We’d better wind the legs up and get the house to safety,” Arthur called, looking concernedly up into the grey-gloom of the incoming storm. It suddenly struck him how the cascading water droplets sounded curiously like a crackling fire as they splashed on to leaves and branches. Strange how two polar opposites could sound so similar, Arthur thought.

  When he looked back, he saw that a rather large greeber had appeared several metres from Ermitage. “Hurry! There’s a greeber about ten paces behind you!” he shouted above the tumultuous drumroll of falling rain.

  Ermitage hopped swiftly through the already ankle-deep water, his gangly legs flying about as the greeber swung its head in his direction, but the water wasn’t yet deep enough for its signature razor-swift swimming, so it merely observed with gold-slatted eyes.

  Ermitage hurried inside and placed the huge snail on a blanket. “Quick, light the dome so that we can see to wind the crank.”

  Arthur sparked it with his strike-fire and set it in its holder, then they began winding the crank that drove the small rickety house upwards. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed again, then once more almost simultaneously, and as they rose, the clouds unleashed their watery fury and the rain streamed from the sky. Outside was now as black as deepest night, and there was no way to tell how high they were; they would just need to keep cranking until the mechanism locked into place. The handle was increasingly difficult to turn as the pressure from above rose, and sweat was beading all over Arthur’s body from the humidity and the exertion. After several minutes, the crank would turn no further, and it locked into place.

  “There. All done, old thing,” Ermitage said loudly, to be heard above the downpour, and patted Arthur on the back. Flashes of lightning came in swift succession, and the snarl of thunder made Arthur’s chair vibrate.

  “These things are built to last; nothing to worry about.” Ermitage fanned himself with a journal. “One of the swiftest incoming deluges I’ve seen since I’ve been here. We must be hitting what the locals call matarnya – which I believe translates as ‘even wetter’.”

  “Great,” Arthur said.

  Ermitage chuckled to himself.

  CHAPTER 18

  MAUDIE ALONE

  It was as though the storm had been a dream. Maudie lay motionless on the beach, limbs like lead, letting the warmth of the sun drown her thoughts, because she knew the moment that she opened her eyes again, what had happened would be real. Beside her, she heard the sky-ak clunk softly in the steady whooshing of the waves that washed over her feet.

  The sky-ak had saved her life. She could remember heaving it up the beach, retching and choking up saltwater, then collapsing on to sand.

  She squeezed the sand with her hands, soft and warm. Something hummed above. Her eyes fluttered heavily as she forced them open. The sky was so bright. How could it be so dazzling when it had been so fierce and stormy not long before?

  A huge dragonfly with the wingspan of a dinner plate zipped above. Maudie sat up with a start, and it flew away, then in a few moments came back and hovered several metres away, as though curious about the strange creature on the beach. Maudie pushed herself up to stand. For a moment, she wondered if she was back on Nova. Perhaps the storm had driven her back? But when she looked up at the enormous mountains covered in dense, bright-green foliage, trees twice as tall as any she had seen – perhaps even three times – she knew that she was somewhere new, somewhere big.

  Arthur had been right all along.

  There was a fourth continent.

  Even though it was futile, she called out Arthur’s name, then Harriet’s, Felicity’s and Welby’s. Several birds took flight at the jungle edge and flew inland. She tried to control her breathing and looked around. The sandy cove was quite secluded, with almost pure-white sand, as though the sun had blanched all colour from it. It was banked by the enormous forested mountains to the left, more jungle in front of her, and then the sea everywhere else. There was no sign of debris from the crashed sea-ship. Maudie squinted out over the water, the sun reflecting like diamond dust across the waves, but there was nothing. She suddenly felt very small, and it was as though someone had opened a great expanse around her heart and was whispering coldly in her ear – you’re alone.

  The tide looked to be coming in, so she heaved the sky-ak further up the beach and searched for anything that might be useful inside. She checked her toolbelt: wrench, small folding knife, drivers and a crushed compass. She tapped it.

  Great. The thing that would be most useful was broken.

  Suddenly she realized how incredibly thirsty she was, and there was still a horrible saltwater taste in her mouth. The sky
was bleached with sun. She looked around and swallowed the urge to cry. It was easy to make decisions with Arthur and the rest of the crew around, but alone…

  Think like Harriet, she told herself. What would Harriet do? Stop, think, observe and make a plan. Stay calm.

  The fin of the sky-ak had snapped and she didn’t want to venture back to sea, so she ruled that out. The mountains were unimaginably high and would give her a good vantage point to survey the region, but they would no doubt be too treacherous to climb and would take her far too long to even get a short way up. And without water she wouldn’t last more than three days in this heat, perhaps less. If anyone else from the boat had survived, they might have made it to another beach, maybe not far away, so she shouldn’t go too far inland. Perhaps she should venture in just far enough to find drinking water. She would have to mark her route so that she could find her way back out again, and if Harriet and the others came upon this beach, they could track her. She bit down on her lip.

  There was a patch of trees along the beach that appeared to be less dense. After heaving the sky-ak up the sand, she made her way towards it. From here, it seemed as though the land was going down further still, so perhaps that would lead to water.

  Before she left, she found a broken branch and wrote in the sand close to the treeline: Maudie this way. With her folding belt knife, she cut off a little of her sleeve and tied it to a nearby tree, then searched inside the sky-ak again in case she’d missed anything. There was a rope under the water line. She dithered between taking it and using it to secure the sky-ak, so she decided to split it in two; if the waves came in too far and she lost her only possible mode of transport there would be no hope, but a rope might be useful in the forest. She would find water, collect dry wood then come back to the beach and make a fire and shelter. Pulling up her sleeves, she made her way into the trees.

  Her feet squelched through the dark, humid forest floor. She realized that finding dry wood to start a fire would be near impossible here. Every so often she would stop and break branches so that she could trace her way back. The trees grew taller and denser, and a cacophony of chirps, caws, chitters, whistles and trills filled the air. Above, she caught glimpses of light cutting through in white shafts, diminished by the hundreds of plants all fighting for their own piece of it until all that remained was murky gloom.