Weak yellow light illuminated a narrow corridor. The dark wood paneling stretched maybe ten yards until it was swallowed in darkness. There were several doors on either side, but they were closed. Keeping hold of the lamp, I turned around so that I could see in the other direction: another corridor, almost identical. If our families were still on board, there was no sign of them. Not a sound.
“Do you see—” I began, but stopped when I saw Alice’s face, frozen in horror. “What is it?”
She pointed at the wall behind me, just below the lamp.
I twisted my body to see where she was pointing. Then I let go of the lamp, so I wouldn’t have to look at all the blood.
CHAPTER 40
We need the light, Thomas,” Alice yelled. “We’re blind down here.”
I didn’t move. I imagined I could feel the blood splattered across the wall behind me. It had been deep red, still relatively fresh. Was it one person, or several? Was there anyone left to save?
“Thomas. The lamp!”
I swiped at the metal rod connecting the lamp to the wall. Through closed eyes I felt it flicker on. It was brighter than before too; my pulse was racing again.
When I opened my eyes, Alice was staring at me. “You have to hold on, Thom. Without you, we’re . . .” She didn’t finish the thought. “When I say so, let go of the lamp.”
“What?” I figured I’d misheard her.
“Just do it.” She leaped up and grabbed a wooden beam that ran across the ceiling. Her feet dangled beneath her. Then she brought her knees up to her chest and extended her left foot until it was almost touching the lamp. “Now!” she shouted.
I released the lamp, and she kicked it. There was a sound of splintering wood, and the lamp landed on the floor beside me. When I picked it up, the light returned. My hand shook from the pain.
Alice dropped to the floor. She spread her arms across the corridor to brace herself. “We’ve got to look for our parents.”
There was a roar from the wind outside, and the ship tipped farther than before. I lost my balance and crashed against the bloody wall. I took a deep breath to try to calm myself, but the light shone brighter.
I heard cursing above us. The others were coming down the stairs, but rainwater cascaded over the steps, and no one seemed to be able to balance. Tessa had wrapped her arm around Rose, who was shaking. I had to look away.
“We’re going to die tonight,” said Dennis.
“No, we’re not,” Alice snapped. “There are no pirates here. We’re in control now.” Somehow she even sounded like she meant it.
As Tessa closed the hatch, Alice led us down one of the corridors, trying the handle of every door she came to. All were locked; I double-checked them myself. At the end of the corridor, another much shorter corridor ran at right angles in either direction. More doors at either end, but they were locked too.
Dennis began shouting his parents’ names. I joined in. I glanced at Alice to see if she could hear anyone shouting back over the noise of the storm. Even if they were behind a door, she’d hear them as long as she was listening closely. Wouldn’t she?
When we reached the final door, we retraced our steps. We moved faster now and wrestled with the handles on every door. As we passed the bloodied wall, I paused to block everyone’s views. No need to think about that right now.
“They’re all locked,” shouted Dennis when we reached the last door.
“We have to take shelter,” yelled Alice.
“What about my parents?”
“We’ll find them once the storm has passed.”
“How? They’re not here.”
The ship swung wildly. I hit the wall, collapsed onto the floor, and skidded a yard to the side, where I bumped into Alice.
She screamed.
I tried to get away, but I only had use of my left hand and couldn’t balance. My wet shoes slid across the floor. Panic overtook me and her screams grew louder; after that, she swallowed them behind a choking sound that was somehow even more horrifying.
Finally I got some separation. It was small relief, because now I saw the looks of terror on everyone’s faces. I was a danger in a storm like this. More than that, I was lethal. But no one could do without the light.
“Alice is right,” I said, breaking the silence. “You must protect yourselves.”
In response, Alice braced herself against the wall and kicked both legs against the nearest door. It shook, but didn’t move. So she did it again. And again. Griffin joined in too. Two more kicks and the door flew open.
“Inside,” she shouted.
It looked like a cabin for maybe five or six of the pirates. Bundles of blankets were littered across the floor, and a few chairs and tables had been thrown about by the storm.
“Get this stuff outside,” said Tessa, grabbing a chair and shoving it out the door. “It could crush us.”
One by one we pushed objects into the corridor. When we were done, Tessa pointed to the iron rings built into the walls. “Grab one of these, and hold tight. You cannot let go, no matter what happens. Do you understand?”
I looked around the room and saw everyone nodding. But they weren’t looking at Tessa; they were looking at me. And I knew that every single one of them was wondering the same thing: What happens if Thomas lets go? What happens if Thomas slides into me in the night? What happens if I can’t get away from him?
A length of rope lay on the floor. I kicked it to Alice. “Tie me up,” I said.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
She fed the rope through a ring in the wall and ran it around me like a harness, telling me where to lean so that she wouldn’t have to touch me. When I was secure, she tied a knot and handed me one end of the rope. “If we need to abandon ship, pull this. The knot will untie.”
I nodded once and tied the lamp to the end of the rope she’d given me so that I wouldn’t lose it. The light was weaker now, and so was I.
“I-I’m going to have to let go,” I told everyone. “I can’t keep the lamp on all night.”
No one said anything. Beside me, Rose closed her eyes tightly.
I let the lamp slide out of my fingers, and we were plunged into darkness. The relief was immediate.
I heard occasional gasps each time the boat lurched and we were pushed against the walls. Then a wave smacked the ship so hard I thought we’d capsize completely. I slid toward Rose. I couldn’t stop myself.
The rope jarred me to a halt before I touched her. After an agonizingly long pause, the ship righted itself again, groaning like a tortured animal. I wasn’t aware how close I was to Rose until I smelled the vomit on her breath.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Rose whimpered, and I knew it was because she was scared. Petrified, even, to find me so near again. When she inhaled, her breath shook. She was probably thinking up something reassuring to tell me—something typically Rose—but before she could speak, she began crying. The rest of the cabin grew quieter in response.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, tearing up myself. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she whispered. “It’s not your fault. I just didn’t realize . . .” She swallowed hard.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
The ship rocked, and we all shifted again. The rope was tugging against my back. I could feel the skin beneath my shoulder blades being burned away by the friction. “What didn’t you realize?”
I felt a movement as she raised a hand to her face, our tunics connecting momentarily. It reminded me of a time when we had touched. I was certain that could never happen again.
Then I heard another sound—the pendant being slid back and forth along the cord. She kept doing it, and my mind wandered to the moment that I had given it her, and the look on her face. It was the only time she
’d appeared happy since all this had started.
The sound stopped, and Rose was still.
“What didn’t you realize, Rose?”
She took a steadying breath. “How powerful your element is.” She lowered her voice until it was almost inaudible. “I like you so much. You have no idea. But I thought I was dying. I-I think you almost killed me.”
CHAPTER 41
Thomas.”
I felt something tugging my armpits. The rope.
“Thomas!”
I opened an eye. The ship was barely moving. The howling winds had blown over. Through a porthole in the wall I saw the sky—dark gray, but with a hint of the approaching morning. I must have slept through most of the night.
I pulled the end of the rope toward me. The lamp was still there, and when I touched it, it shone.
All around me, the others were dragging themselves off the floor, trying to get their legs under them again.
“It’s over,” I said.
“No.” Dennis sat upright, eyes closed, head lolling to the side. “It’s just the eye of the storm.”
“We have to look for our families,” said Alice. “And we need to hurry. If we don’t find them now, it could be a half day before we can try again.”
I pulled at the end of the rope and the knot came undone, as Alice had said it would. But my back was blistered from rope burns. Everyone waited for me before leaving the room. Without my lamp, they wouldn’t be able to see anything.
We made our way along the corridor, trying every door. We shouted our parents’ names, and listened in case they responded. Again, there was no sight or sound of them.
When we reached the stairs to the deck, Alice stopped. “I’m going up to check the damage,” she said. “I hope the sailboats are all right. If you can release everyone quickly, there might be time to evacuate before the storm returns.”
“No,” mumbled Dennis. “The eye will pass soon.”
Alice paused. “How soon?”
“Less than half a strike. Maybe only a quarter.”
In response, Rose and Dennis continued along the corridor, screaming, “Mother. Father.”
Griffin followed them. He ran his hands across the walls, trying to pick up a vibration, any clue at all about where everyone might be.
“What if they disembarked on Hatteras?” Rose called out. “Maybe they’re not here.”
“No,” I said. “After the ship set sail, I scanned Hatteras with my binoculars. I couldn’t see anyone.”
It was looking more and more like something else had happened to our parents—something terrible. The others were thinking the same thing too. It was written all over their faces. When we reached the end of the corridor, we sat down, backs against the wall.
“Where’s Tessa?” asked Rose.
It was a good question. The lamp illuminated the corridor, but I couldn’t see her. I was about to check if she was on deck with Alice, when Griffin held up his right hand—a command for silence and stillness. Straightaway, he ran his left hand down the wall. He kept going until he touched the floor.
Rose pulled up her knees and hugged them. “What’s he doing?”
Griffin placed both hands on the floor and began to retrace our steps down the corridor. We all followed him. Five yards later, he stopped and slapped the boards.
That’s when I heard it: voices, faint and distant.
“Which room are they in?” Rose asked, breathless.
“They’re not. He thinks . . . they’re under us.”
“How can they be under us?”
I knelt down and placed my ear against the boards. Sure enough, the sound was coming from underneath a floor so thick I couldn’t even make out individual voices—just a kind of collective groaning. We never could have heard it above the noise of the storm.
I ran the lamp across the boards, looking for something—a mark, a scratch—and caught the shadow of a seam between the planks. There was a wooden ring, too, perfectly flush with the floor, and almost indistinguishable from it.
I jammed a fingernail into the seam and tried to pry the ring up, but it wouldn’t move. Rose crouched beside me and followed my lead—Dennis too—and a tiny edge of the ring protruded above the surface of the floor. Quickly, Rose pressed her fingertips against it and lifted it up. When it stood out from the floor, I tried to pull it up, but the trapdoor it was attached to was either locked or extremely heavy. Either way, it wasn’t going to budge.
Someone reached over me and took the ring. Tessa. I didn’t have time to ask her where she’d gone before she twisted it a quarter turn and something clicked. This time it moved a little when she pulled, and with Rose and me joining her, we managed to raise the trapdoor a little. As soon as there was a space underneath, Griffin slid his fingers in and prized the door open farther. With all of us working together, the heavy door swung upward.
The noise rose to fever pitch. But that wasn’t all. A foul stench filled the air, and when I retched, I wasn’t alone. We all staggered back, gasping fresh air. Once I’d filled my lungs, I stepped forward and shone the lamp into the hole again.
I recognized the faces down there, but they were well out of reach, sprawled against the curved sides of the ship’s hull. They closed their eyes and shrank back from the bright lamp. They had probably been in darkness ever since they were kidnapped.
“Are you all right?” shouted Rose.
“Rose?” I recognized Kyte’s voice. “Rose, is that you?”
“Yes. Are you all right?”
“We’re . . . alive.” His hesitation worried me. So did the sudden silence of everyone around him. “You came for us.” He practically choked on the words.
“How did you get down there?”
“They threw us down. Some of us have broken limbs. We’ll need a rope to get out.”
“Father,” I called. “Where are you? Are you there, Ananias?”
“Yes.” Ananias’s voice came from the left side of the cavernous hold. Even when I lowered the lamp, I still couldn’t make him out. “But Father isn’t here,” he added.
One or two of the Guardians tried to force their eyes open, but they just squinted until the discomfort became too much. Then they closed them again.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
Kyte stood directly under the trapdoor. “The pirates beat him, Thomas. Badly.”
I thought of the bloodstained wall and began to wave the lamp around. I could see everyone in there, but not my father. “Where is he now?”
“We don’t know. We’re not sure he’s still on board.”
My mind flashed back to the previous evening, and the wooden box I’d seen the pirates lowering onto the cutter. It had been the right size for a body.
I tried to wipe the thought away, but couldn’t. My breathing grew faster, and the lamp shone brighter. In its glow I saw the way the Guardians’ faces had frozen in a grimace, as though the pain had gone on for so long that it couldn’t be undone.
I stepped back. Tessa was behind me, but out of sight. I got the feeling she didn’t want to be seen. Griffin was beside her.
Need. Rope, I signed. Stern. Ship, I added, hoping he’d realize I meant the ropes we’d climbed last night.
He nodded sharply and turned to leave. I held the lamp up for him so he could see the way to the staircase. Without the light shining on them, the Guardians groaned again.
“How do you know my father was beaten?” I shouted into the darkness.
Kyte quieted everyone. “We saw it happen. The pirates bound us, and then attacked him. They did it suddenly—sticks, ropes . . . whatever they could lay their hands on.”
I was desperate to erase the image of that box leaving the ship, but now I could think of nothing else. I couldn’t have lost both parents. I just couldn’
t.
“They made me watch, Thomas,” said Ananias. His voice caught as he said my name, and I felt ashamed for not considering how awful the past few days must have been for him—knowing our father had been beaten; wondering if he would be next.
I tried to hold my voice steady. “We’ll get you out. I promise.” I turned to Dennis. “How long do we have?”
He stared into the hold and ran a hand through his hair. “Not long enough.”
I raised the lantern to see if Griffin had reappeared, but I knew he’d need longer. With nothing else to look at, my eyes returned to the bloodied patch of wall again.
“Where was he when they attacked him?” I called into the hold.
It took Ananias a moment to answer. “On the deck. They hit him . . .” His voice trailed off. “I’m sorry,” he cried, like this was somehow his fault.
I could tell that he really was sorry. He sounded desolate, helpless, ashamed. But I felt only relief washing over me. The blood couldn’t be my father’s if he’d been beaten on deck. I wanted Ananias to know it too, but how could I explain about the bloody wall without worrying everyone even more?
Ananias continued to sob as the Guardians fell silent again. “For a quarter strike they hurt him,” he continued. “Even when he couldn’t stand. And then . . .” He choked on the words. “Then they pushed him through the hatch and down the staircase, and started beating him all over again.”
CHAPTER 42
I couldn’t wait any longer. If we were going to release the Guardians, we had to start now. I went in search of Griffin.
Looking up through the hatch, I saw the sky lightening little by little. Maybe it would be easier to face the hurricane if we could see what was happening.
I didn’t mean to look at the wall behind me, but my eyes were drawn to it. All that blood, in long streaks that touched the floor—it was horrifying. It didn’t end there, either. Drops of blood traced an uneven line under my feet. They continued all the way to the opposite wall, where they ended abruptly at a wooden panel beneath the stairs.