“It’s easy,” said Davy. “You keep turning left. Whenever you come to a parting of the ways, turn left. You’ll feel like you’re going back on yourself and all over the deck – but if you just keep going left, you’ll come out at the port in due time.”

  “How long will it take from here?”

  “Not too long. But we’ll have to be careful. I don’t doubt that if the warship boosted away from The Redoubtable before she exploded, the pirates will be looking for you, still, Harry.”

  “Maybe we should split up,” said Harriet. “Maybe I should go alone. It’s my fault, ain’t it, that the pirates come after the ship? It’s my fault there was a battle and all them good men died.” She struggled to keep her voice steady. “Maybe you lot was right all along. Maybe it is bad luck to have a girl aboard.”

  There was a moment of grim silence. All eyes were on her. Then, almost as one, her friends spat on their right hands, wiping the spittle off on the left. It was an old skyfarers’ custom. Harriet knew what it meant. They were offering her the highest honor a skyfarer could ever give. They were swearing their solemn friendship. Harriet’s heart nearly burst as their palms extended towards her, and they intoned the words, “Until death takes me.”

  Harriet spat on her own, trembling right hand, wiped it on the left, and shook each of their hands in turn. “Until death takes me,” she whispered.

  The mood lightened instantly. Davy laughed. “And we’ll have no more of that guilty girl nonsense,” he said. “It’s you yourself taught us better!”

  “If someone wants to ‘urt you, ‘arry,” said Sam earnestly, “it ain’t never goin’ to be your fault. Understand? It’s always goin’ to be theirs. You remember that.”

  “There’s truth,” said Barney.

  “We’ve a long day ahead of us tomorrow,” said Davy. “One the captain would call a challenging day. I vote we get some rest.”

  “Ain’t it better to push on?” said Harriet. “While we’ve still got the cover of darkness?”

  “Darkness is no cover in the marshes,” said Davy. “A small fire like this won’t be noted from a distance – it could just be gas burning off or a will-o’-the wisp. But if there’s anyone watching from the port side, a lantern swinging through the reeds is far too much warning for them to ready an ambush. Daylight is what we need. Get yourself some rest, Harry. The Moon night is short enough. I’ll take first watch.”

  Harriet lay, wrapped in the silver survival blanket, watching the dying embers. As her eyelids closed with exhaustion, despite the pain and horror of the last few days, she wondered if this was what it felt like to have a family and be loved. The image of Sibelius, winking, flashing his gold-toothed smile and telling her to trust him, blazed in her memory. She sobbed silently as exhaustion overcame her and she slipped into an uneasy, nightmarish sleep.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Harry!” The urgency in Davy’s voice shocked her awake. “The warship’s heading to port. Get up quick! If we don’t get there before the pirates, there’s no way we’ll get out the swamp without a fight.”

  Harriet jumped up, surprised at her own energy, and stuffed the blanket back into her bag, quickly checking for the chart reader. It was safe. The others had dowsed the fire and stood ready.

  “Look,” said Sam, pointing into the yellow sky. ”It’s the pirates, an’ no mistake.” The huge vessel, its propellers churning up the greenish smog above Port Hold, slowly maneuvered into position above the distant port.

  “How long have we got?” Harriet asked.

  “An hour on the outside,” answered Barney. “We might just make it before it’s too late.”

  “But we’ll have to run,” said Davy. “And don’t slip. Now come on!”

  Harriet ran hard and fast along the slippery boardwalk, her feet pounding above the lunar swamp. Davy ran in front. Sam was behind her and Barney, red-faced, puffed and panted at the rear. Left they turned and left again, never stopping even when they seemed, surely, to be getting further and further away from their objective.

  Harriet stole a glance at the looming mass of the pirate warship. It moved steadily, ominously, closer to the lunar port.

  “How far now?” Barney gasped.

  “Not far,” Davy called back. But Harriet heard the doubt in his voice. What if we don’t make it? Harriet thought. We can’t hide out in the swamp forever, eating eels and living in a bust up rescue rocket. But there was only one thing she could do right now, and that was keep running; keep running despite the stich in her side, the sweat drenching her clothes, and the aching in her legs. She had never run so hard or so long, not even fleeing the pirates in Lundoon. By the time the swamp’s edge was visible and the towers and launches of the port soared above them, she was drenched in sweat and her heart hammered at her ribcage.

  She hurtled headlong into Davy’s back as he skidded to a stop at the edge of the swamp. “Get down!” he shouted.

  Harriet crouched behind him with the others, gasping for breath. The warship had docked. “We’ve still got time,” she panted. “Just about.” The boardwalk ended in a narrow bridge traversing a stream of bubbling bog water. On the other side lay a disused, cobbled yard. Huge chains coiled like fossilized snakes, rusting in the damp, yellow air; broken barrels were stacked up, abandoned along with crates and long forgotten machinery.

  “But if them pirates is comin’ down now, they’ll be crawlin’ like rats all o’er the port,” said Sam, wiping blond locks from his eyes.

  “There’s so many of them, too,” added Barney, “well-armed and ready to a man. There’re only four of us. We wouldn’t last five minutes in a fight.”

  “What if the others have got in to the port first?” said Harriet. “Ain’t no reason to think not. They might’ve landed nearer, or got there quicker, or anything.”

  “Harry’s right,” said Davy. “We can’t just leave them to the pirates if they’re there.” He twisted round on his heels to face Harriet. “What do we do?”

  “I don’t get why the pirates can land openly at the port. It’s obvious they’re pirates: no registration, no name, and look at them – they’re like something from a blooming story book! It ain’t still the eighteenth century, is it?”

  “It’s 1847 last I heard. But the whole system’s corrupt. It doesn’t matter who’s right and wrong. It’s who has the most money or minerals. Everything runs on minerals and a law’s only a law if the bribe isn’t big enough.”

  “So the pirates can do whatever they like ‘cos they got loads of money and big guns?”

  “That’s pretty much what it boils down to, Harry.”

  “That ain’t right,” said Harriet.

  “No,” said Davy. “No, it’s not.”

  “Then I reckon it’s time we put a stop to them.”

  “That may be,” said Sam. “But right now I reckon we’d best decide what to do afore they gets the chance to put a stop to us.”

  “We need a better vantage point. It’s so hard to see anything from the ground!” said Harriet. “See that old warehouse over the quay? Don’t look to me like anyone uses it. I say make a dash for that – we could easy climb in through them broken windows. Then if we can get up onto the roof, we could go all along the tops, see, to the main landings without anyone seeing us. We could get a good look from up there.”

  “I ain’t got a better idea,” said Sam. “My vote’s with ‘arry.”

  “Aye, aye.”

  “Let’s do it!”

  The warehouse was built of moonstone and shone with a subtle, ethereal light. Scrambling through a broken window, Harriet dropped to the dusty floor. She was uneasy. The place looked empty, deserted, no furnishings, no machinery or crates, nothing. But there was something.

  “Harry?” said Davy. “You all right?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I just think we should be careful. Maybe we’re being watched.”

  Bent double to avoid being seen by anyone passing at the windows, they scuttled across the empty floor to a spiral, iron staircase. The stairs rattled and clanked as they climbed up. At the top was a door. “This must lead onto the roof,” said Harriet, turning the handle. She stepped into the open, still crouching low, and gasped. She stood to one side as the others emerged onto the broad, flat tiles. Sam let out a low whistle.

  “She’s a bloomin’ beauty,” he said, eyes wide.

  “She is that,” breathed the others.

  Shimmering in the earthlight and the weird glow of the moonstone slabs was a beautifully crafted starship. Davy walked round the vessel, looking her over, admiring the polished wooden hull, the steel trim and brass bolts. “She’s the real thing,” he said, awestruck. “A Poliakoff and Watson starship. And she’s in prime condition.”

  “Who and Watson?” said Harriet.

  “Poliakoff,” answered Barney.

  “One of the greatest creative engineering partnerships of all time,” continued Davy. “Until one day Poliakoff just disappeared. There was a big thing about it in all the papers. For years no one knew what had become of him. Then he turned up in Lundoon, working in a theater doing conjuring shows. He wouldn’t give interviews and after a while people lost interest.”

  “I met him,” said Harriet thoughtfully. “He said he’d been an engineer, but he never told me he’d made starships. I’d always thought starships would be bigger than this.”

  “The size of these makes them much faster. They only built one or two before Watson died. They’re handcrafted, none of your production line stuff. She’s designed to be handled by a small crew of six or so.”

  “What’s she doin’ ‘ere, then?” said Sam.

  “That I don’t know,” said Davy, reaching out and trying the door. “Locked, of course.”

  Barney rested his palm on one of the side thrusters to peer in through a porthole. He jumped back, surprised.

  “What is it? There’s someone in there?”

  “No,” he said. “She’s still warm.”

  “Well,” said Harriet. “Pretty as she is, she ain’t ours. And if she’s still warm, that means whoever she does belong to might be about, so we’d best get moving.”

  She turned. And immediately froze. Something had moved. Something was there, out of sight but there, watching them, she was sure.

  “What is it, Harry?” asked Davy.

  “I don’t think we’re alone up here. I swear I just saw something dash behind them pipes.”

  “Something or someone?”

  “I don’t think it was a person.”

  “Maybe rats?”

  “Too big for rats.”

  “Let’s ‘ave a look, then,” said Sam. “Spread out, lads.”

  They formed a line across the roof and stepped forward together, a human net closing in on whatever it was hiding behind the stack of pipes. There was a skittering sound, something metallic tapping rapidly over the tiles. She shot a glance at the others who nodded back. They had heard it, too. Still, nothing was visible. Then the sound again: a scratching noise and a quiet, persistent whirring.

  It’s some sort of machine, though Harriet. Barney reached out and smacked one of the pipes with the flat of his hand. The pipe boomed hollowly. Something scuttled to the other end of the pipe. Harriet stooped down and peered in at the other opening.

  “I can’t see nothing,” she said. She was about to straighten up when the thing shot from the pipe like a bullet from a musket. It thudded into Harriet, knocking her back onto her haunches. Sharp, metallic legs clasped her head. A glassy surface flashed electrostatic lights in her eyes. The next moment, the thing let go and Harriet scrambled to her feet. “Blimey! What the … ?”

  Davy clasped it between his big hands. It was about the size of a saucepan. Its orb shaped, glass and steel body whirred and buzzed, spider-like mechanical legs thrusting and retracting automatically in the air.

  “It’s a spiderbot,” said Sam. “I’ve seen ‘em before.”

  “What’s it do?” said Harriet, peering closer.

  “You see that little brass tube on top?” said Davy. “There’re lenses in it, like a telescope. It can look through that, and the images are projected onto a photosensitive plate at the back.”

  “Like a spectrograph?”

  “Exactly, but instead of making a fixed image, the light is turned into a signal and sent through this antenna to a receiver somewhere else.”

  “An’ ‘ooever is at the receiver,” added Sam, “can watch the image.”

  “It’s a spy machine,” said Barney.

  A piece of moonstone had broken off a cracked tile and was lying at Harriet’s feet. She picked it up. “Hold it steady, Davy,” she said. She smashed the stone against the lens. The polished surface fractured into a mist of broken glass. “Whoever was spying on us ain’t seeing nothing else,” she said, tossing the stone aside. “D’you reckon it was the pirates?”

  “No telling,” said Davy. “It might have been installed in the warehouse to keep an eye on things. They’re common enough. In any case, let’s not waste time. We’d best try and find the others.”

  “The others didn’t make it,” said a gruff voice behind them. “We made sure o’ that. Now turn about slowly with yer ‘ands up.”

  Harriet and the others turned around, raising their arms. Seven pirates stood on the roof, flintlocks drawn and pointing at them. “It’s me you want,” said Harriet, taking a step forward, bold as burnished brass. “Leave these lads alone.”

  “Harry...” Barney began, but Harriet waved him to silence. The pirates laughed.

  “It’s not you we want, girl. It’s the chart reader.” The ruffians stepped towards her, grinning broken-toothed smiles. They smelled of grease and brandy. Their flintlocks clicked as they pulled the hammers back into firing position.

  Harriet looked at her friends. They looked back helplessly. Their clothes were in rags, they were exhausted, outnumbered and unarmed.

  Harriet said, “You’ll let these lads be, then?”

  The pirates nodded. “We’ll let you all be.”

  Harriet felt a crushing weariness weighing on her heart. I come all this way and caused a lot o’ trouble. Maybe this chart reader ain’t really important. What’s important now is to find me dad. And make sure these lads get away safe. I been responsible for too many deaths already. Is that right? Is that the truth? She pulled up the pouch, untied it, and held it out in front of her. Her hand trembled with fatigue. The pouch dangled in front of the pirates, swinging back and forth. Is that the truth? Is it? All this for nothing?

  A single tear pricked at her right eye, escaped, and rolled disconsolately down her dirt-smudged cheek.

  “It’s in here,” she said. “Take it.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Harriet stood, her arm outstretched and her hands trembling. The pouch swung back and forth like a pendulum. The pirate leader twisted a smirk towards his mates. He stomped forward with his gun directed straight at Harriet’s heart.

  “No funny business, now,” he growled. “Just hand it over and there’ll be no more trouble.”

  “It’s yours,” said Harriet. “Come and get it.”

  The pirate leader stepped closer. His gang of scurvy rogues closed in around him. He stood within arm’s reach of the chart reader now. The stench of his breath brought bile to the back of Harriet’s throat. His eyes focused like a hawk’s, seeing only the pouch, the prize finally within his grasp. The other brigands were equally intent on her outstretched fist.

  Am I really going to give it up? Harriet thought. She remembered a journey in a Clockwork Conveyancer, rattling over the cobbles on a misty morning in Lundoon. The memory clarified in her mind like an object appearing through fog. It was something Poliakoff had said. Something about magic. Something about misdirection.

  While the pirates’ eyes were still fixed on the pouch she risked a quick glance at her mates. Maybe there’s still a chance. Their eyes were all fixed on her. She had only an instant to let them know she had a plan. She raised her eyebrows and gave a quick nod. They looked confused. Then, realizing she was trying to communicate something to them, they tensed with concentration. They didn’t know what she was going to do, but they were ready.

  Harriet’s eyes darted back to the pirate leader. He hadn’t noticed. His attention was still fixed on her outstretched hand. His rough, dirty fingers closed around the pouch. Flicking the leather strap, Harriet snatched it away. The pirate’s fingers closed on empty space. Before he realized he’d been cheated, his brow furrowed and confusion clouded his eyes. In that instant, Harriet tossed the pouch high into the air. She jumped backwards out of the pirate’s reach. At the same time, her friends ran towards her.

  The pirates stepped back, necks craned upwards, looking anxiously at the pouch as it spun above them.

  “Now!” shouted Harriet.

  Davy, Sam and Barney didn’t waste time. While their enemies’ attention was directed upwards, they rushed the unwary pirates, tripping them, sending them crashing to the ground. A savage battle ensued. Punches flew and heads cracked together as they tussled at close quarters. Harriet heard the satisfying crunch of a broken bone as Davy landed a fist on target. Blood showered from the pirate leader’s nose. Barney tackled another ruffian by the ankles, bringing him smashing to the ground. Sam was on the rogue in a moment, pummeling him with punches.

  The pirates were overcome, their weapons wrested from them. Sam and Davy whipped the belts and baldrics from their vanquished foes and used them to strap the bloodied, groaning villains’ hands and feet. Harriet’s mates stood back, roughed up, sweating and bleeding, but grinning with the satisfaction of victory. The pirates were huddled together on their haunches, bound, gagged and fuming with enraged humiliation as they looked up into the barrels of their own flintlocks.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17