Aquifer

  “Yes, yes, as always, clear.” Seward shields his eyes. “And as always, I let no detail fall. But unlike always, when I went to meet you at the wharf, you were not there. We had a deal, Mr. Mape. A thirty-spot and year’s bonus for an important haul. I have him here.”

  Seward bends down and muscles the stranger’s body into a waiting bag. He zips it shut, and then crawls to the magnetic claw, grabs the blowtorch, and quickly burns through an iron finger.

  “What are you doing?” I start to sit up from inside my bag. “Now’s not the time to destroy your equipment. I’m in a bit of a situation —”

  “Silence. Your mouth be undone!”

  I lay back down.

  “Very well,” Mape calls. “So how did you find me?”

  Seward winces, and with his torch, burns a second magnetic pincher off the claw. A five-foot finger of iron rattles against the decking. “Ah, Mr. Mape.” He peeks above railing. “You know the history between this undone and me. I went to Massa’s home. Perhaps, I think, finally something might fall to me, something that should always have been mine. But the shanty be burned, torched, and Luca be crumpled on the dock.”

  “Still alive?”

  “I did not stop to ask.”

  Mape hollers. “You told me Luca sleeps soundly, on his cot. That tonight of all nights, he would be there.” The sound of hand slapping face snaps the air, and a boy cries out.

  “I told you his pattern. I cannot account for anomalies!”

  “Walery,” I whisper.

  “Hush.” Seward grunts the metal pinchers into the third bag and seals it. He crawls over the undone and zips me up to the waist. “With fortune, I will see you soon. Without it, the pleasure to meet you has been mine … Nephew.”

  “Wait.” I grab my two books and pull them into the bag.

  “You are insane, lad.” Then, with one final zip, the world goes black.

  “Bring the body to me.” Mape’s voice sounds muffled, and I reach up, find the underside of the zipper, and scratch it down a centimeter. Through the tiny opening, I see one bright star.

  I see you, Luca.

  The strange thought comforts, and my body relaxes. Our boat inches forward, and I rearrange the books, squeezing them against my gut. Moments later, strong fingers tap my head.

  Be still. I get it, Seward.

  “Why are there three bodies?” Mape stands directly above me, blocking out my star, and I hear his dial whizzing. My heart pounds. Great, he got a new dial. “Your emotions are causing quite a wrinkle, Seward. Unusual for you. What do you have to fear?”

  “You. This is not the usual exchange. Not the usual place.” Seward clears his throat. “The middle one is Massa. Would you take him?”

  “With pleasure.” Mape snaps, “I warned him that punishment would fall.” Feet shuffle beside me. A stray boot catches my gut, and I suck in the gasp.

  “And what of the other two?” The voice of Mape’s companion.

  “Ancient undones, no means to identify. Their bones came up attached to my claw. I call’m collateral bycatch, those done in before Mape and his efficiency took over. I’ll carry this heavy one, if you would like to carry the other.”

  “Hardly worth the effort,” an Amongus scoffs. “Tiny little bag-o-bones.”

  Hands slip beneath my back and lift. For a moment I’m weightless, then I land with a crack, my gut draped over an Amongus shoulder. I’ve been undone.

  Seward knifed Father, now he’s destroyed me.

  Minutes later, I thud facedown onto the sand.

  “Yes, Massa is the prize, but you’ll all want to see the one I carried.” Seward’s voice nears and my bag rolls over, the zipper lowering halfway. I look up into the face of my sweating uncle. He calls back to the group. “Yeah, that one. The heavy beastie. You’ll want a close look. Shackles of solid gold, it has.” He winks and places my books firmly into my hands, then whispers, “Get ready to run. No stopping for books that fall.”

  I nod.

  A distant zipper.

  Thunk! The Amongus yell and groan.

  “Hold on to your dials!” Mape’s voice sounds pained.

  Seward throws open my bag, I jump to my feet, and together we dash for the jungle. Ten steps, fifteen steps. I hear nothing but grunting, and glance over my shoulder. Ten Amongus are on their knees around the bag, the metal dials in their chest pockets stuck fast to the powerful magnetic fingers of Seward’s claws. A rip of fabric. Mape breaks free.

  “Leave the dials! Slide them out of your pockets! Luca is here!”

  We reach the first row of palms. “From here, I have no plan.” Seward huffs. “But if one of those books be scratched by Massa, best ditch them all.”

  I fall to my knees, brush sand over the covers, and pull palm branches over the stash. Seward hauls me upright the second my books are concealed, and we race forward, the shouts of men trailing in the distance, our feet stumbling over branch and root.

  There are no sounds but the puff of my breath, the pound of my heart. Seward grabs my shoulder and we veer left. Down, down a slope. We run blind, the saline-tree canopy swallowing the stars above. At last he pulls me close and we collapse in a heap behind a fallen trunk.

  “We hide here,” he whispers. “They can’t track us without the dials. But they’ll soon catch up if we run.”

  I press my body into the bark and think. Were there any clues? Any words dropped by Father that would guide me to the entrance point? Seward must be thinking the same.

  “He said nothing? Why would my brother keep it from you?” He grabs my arm. “You do remember the directions.”

  A moment of panic, and I close my eyes. Left, slight jog right …

  “It’s still there. I remem —”

  “They ran this way.” Mape’s voice cuts thick through the night. “They’re close. Very close. Spread out.”

  “They’ll find us, mate,” Seward whispers. “When I tap your back, we run. I toward the beach and you deeper in.” He sighs. “I won’t be seeing you again. Keep yourself alive — for you, for my brother. You’re family.”

  He peeks over the log, gathers his breath, and taps.

  “Mape! Amongus, follow me, you pack of vermin!” He’s gone, and I hear steps pounding after.

  No, Seward!

  He’s lost everything for me; I will not let him go. The thought of his pirate’s smirk drowning in shackles is too much to endure. I leap up and give chase. I silently slip through the trees, the shouts of Amongus all around me.

  “Oof.” I collide with a chest.

  Seward.

  “Luca, you fooo —”

  Up we sail, bound in a coarse net. We swing helpless thirty feet above the forest floor.

  “This is not an Amongus weave,” Seward hisses. “No, it is quality work. Someone else be on the island.”

  I raise my finger to my lips and point down.

  Beneath us, a cluster of searchers circle. “Mape, we need the dials. Their fear wrinkles will flush them.”

  “We have no time. If Luca disappears below, we’ll have to stand before the Nine. Do you feel like enduring that?” Mape kicks at the ground. “I do not want to struggle with Massa’s mind again!”

  I squeal, and Seward slaps his hand over my mouth.

  “But Mape, Luca may not know where it is. He’s never descended.” An Amongus throws his arms into the air. “We need the dials to find them. There is no choice.”

  Mape paces, his fists tightening into balls. “No!” he screams. “This is my life! Always there is no choice.” He exhales hard. “Fine! Fine. To the beach.” He lets his head fall back. It cocks to the side as he peers up at us. “What would you say that is?”

  “Looks to be a net,” says another, raising an orb above his head. “A very full net.”

  “Hello, Luca.” Mape waves, his voice calming. “What brings you here at night? And how do you come to know my employ?”

  I should feel afraid, but I don’t. I stare down at their ripped pockets, t
hink of my father, and I feel I can do anything.

  “Leave me be,” I say. “I’m on private, Deliverer business.”

  The group sneers, and one bends over and grasps a chunk of wood. “Oh, of course, of course you are.” He flings it upward.

  “Uh.” It strikes Seward hard in the back.

  Mape holds up his hand. “While it would be entertaining to watch the two of you pummeled into pulp, Luca, we need some … information from you, so first let’s bring you down.”

  “Seward! Luca! Close your eyes!”

  I obey, and the world flashes light around me. Lightning, but there’s no storm. A sunrise, but it’s night.

  Below us, shouts and screams and one calm voice.

  “Two years of hiding from you, Mape, and now here you are, and ya can’t lay eyes on me.”

  “Jasper!” Mape claws at the air.

  “Oh, you do remember me. Well now, that’s a nice thing.” He clears his throat. “Sad to say, most of you will be blind — an unblinking stare at a light rod does that. But some of you may see in a day or two. I suggest you stay together. There be beasties on this isle, big and small, and none too friendly.”

  He sighs and stares upward. “Now for my birdies.”

  We lower in jerks and finally strike ground, but I don’t move and I cover closed eyelids with my hands.

  “You two can open up — light’s doused.”

  I crack an eyelid and watch the Amongus stumbling, calling, gathering in a clump. I help Seward to his feet and turn toward Jasper. He is half bear; a wild, hairy, hulk of a man.

  “Are you friend?” I ask.

  “I hate them. They hate you. That’s mates to me. But I was sent here, and instead of chatter I’d like to finish my job.”

  “Your job,” I repeat.

  “There’s an opening I hear you need to find.” He tousles my hair. “Massa’s son. My pleasure. I’ve heard much of you.”

  “You have?”

  Seward sets his hand on my back. “Not to interrupt, lad, but in case one of them shut their eyes in time, I’m thinkin’ we best not be here when vision returns.”

  I nod. “Yeah. Um, Jasper? This is Seward. Massa’s brother.”

  Jasper tongues his cheek. “Oh, we’re quite well acquainted. More than once I’ve lost casks of water to this pirate.”

  “Entrepreneur.” Seward chuckles. “We all scratch to make a livin’.”

  “Scratch! My books!” I break toward the beach.

  “Curse those things.” Seward follows, with Jasper not far behind. I dig up my buried treasure, and the three of us snake back deep into the forest.

  “You know my father,” I say.

  “Aye.” Jasper says. “I reckon better than most.”

  “How, bloke?” Seward barks. He follows the two of us, and the mistrust oozes from his words.

  “He keeps me alive. There is no fresh water on the isle. Each year he brings me a supply, sneaks here every few months to replenish. It’s a good thing. A man gets lonely by himself with only the beasties to keep him company.”

  “Why … do … you stay?” I huff.

  “No choice after what I found.” He whacks through the undergrowth with his machete. “Well, who I found. Mape was a mate, or so I thought, but the whole time we scooped, he was looking for an undone. A particular undone.”

  Seward sets his hand on my shoulder. “He lies. I would know about any retrieval that needed doing. I would have been sent, not a shrimper.”

  “Go on, Jasper.” I pull free from Seward. Jasper looks into my face; the eyes that glisten beneath his shaggy brows hold concern.

  “It was on Scott’s Reef. I don’t figure many undones get dropped there.” He glances at Seward, whose eyes narrow. “The short version? We hauled her up in the PM’s shackles, Mape jumped ship, and a debriefing was my lot.”

  Jasper takes a deep breath. “She’d been down there a long time.” He runs thick fingers over his face. “This isn’t mine to say, but I fear it falls to me. Luca, your father told me, and you should know.” He stops, bends over, and whispers. “That night I was trawling for shrimp. Instead, I pulled up your mother, Alaya. I’m sorry, Luca.”

  Seward grabs Jasper. “This be the truth?”

  “I have no reason to lie.”

  “My mother.” I collapse onto my knees. “But what did she do?”

  “Fantastic timing, shrimper.” Seward shoves Jasper. “And when we need to move the fastest!” He pulls me to my feet. “Luca, there will be a time for your sadness, but now the sun rises.”

  Jasper nods and we quicken our pace. Mother, undone. Father, disappeared. Seward and me, pursued.

  What is it about our family? What don’t I know?

  CHAPTER

  14

  Shuff. Shuff.

  Jasper’s machete rips through the saline forest. Brush and undergrowth, leaves and vine fly upward, coating Seward and me with bits of green.

  My legs have no strength, and I lean my head against Seward’s chest and listen to my uncle’s heartbeat. It races. Too fast.

  I don’t figure he planned to carry me in his arms.

  I glance up at his face, which glistens in the light that seeps from Jasper’s pack. Love. My father said it was our word, only ours, but at this moment I think him wrong. I feel a warmth for this man, the same one who curses the weight of two extra books, and no other word seems to fit.

  Bouncing through the jungle, I discover a second kind of love.

  Jasper stops abruptly. Seward and I crash into his back.

  “Easy now. We’re almost there.” Jasper glances at me. “But you’ll need to walk, Luca.”

  “He’d be walking fine, and I’d still have strength in my arms, if you’d have held your news close to your shirt a bit longer.” Seward leans forward, and I step down. My vision blurs, but I see why Jasper calls to my legs. We’re heading down.

  A cupped-out earth, like a miniature Glaugood, lies before us, its walls steep and green, with trees growing straight up from its sides.

  “At the bottom of the bowl lies what you seek.”

  “Which is what, mate?” Seward’s hesitance has returned.

  Jasper steps toward him. “Many things.”

  A shout in the distance.

  Amongus.

  “If they wrested the dials off the claw, they don’t need sight to find us.” Seward peers down over the edge. “We be dropping breadcrumbs of emotion on the way.”

  Jasper points into the hole. “Down. Dials or no, they’ll have a hard time following us without vision.” He steps onto the steep decline and slides, crashing into a tree. “Use these trunks as braces.” Jasper releases one trunk and slides down to another, grasping it and righting himself.

  More shouts.

  “Go, Luca,” Seward says, “and give me these cursed things.” He grabs the books from my arms. “I’ll bring them with me. Now go.”

  I take a small step forward.

  “Not quick enough.” A firm hand shoves me onto the steep slope, and I stumble and crash into a slender shoot.

  “You got it,” Jasper calls.

  My shoulder throbs, and I shake my head clear in time to see Seward clutch a tree near me. “Keep going — look!” He glances up, toward the rim of the bowl.

  Figures mill about. One with purpose.

  He probably closed his eyes in time.

  I release my tree and slide downward, moving in short bursts. My slight frame makes each collision tolerable, unlike Seward, who bears the brunt of force on a weightier body. His shoulders absorb the impact, as each hand holds a book.

  Numerous trunks later, we reach the bottom. Before me, a stone path, and at its end Jasper stands in front of a rock mound, clearing the pile. He squeezes into the fresh opening, then pokes out his head and holds up a backpack. “This is for you and them scratchings. You can’t carry them by hand; not where we’re going.”

  He tosses the pack to Seward’s feet. Uncle stuffs it and slings it over my bac
k.

  Jasper disappears again, but this time it takes longer for him to return. When he does, he looks pleased. “Okay. I guess we’re ready to go.”

  “Where?” I look around.

  “Down.” A woman — Wren — steps out of the crevice. She hugs me long and real. “I see you received my note. Consider your reading test passed.” Wren grins at Seward. “And you brought the scoundrel.”

  Seward bows. “At your service.”

  I raise my hand, and my jaw drops. “Am I the only one who doesn’t understand what’s going —”

  “Curse it!”

  A pile of Amongus tumble onto the floor of the bowl.

  “Got to hand it to them,” Seward says. “They’re persistent.”

  “Come, Luca!” Wren grabs my arm and pulls. I follow her around the back of the pile and onto a grassy path that disappears into a small cave.

  “Those stones were the marker, set by Massa for you. This is the entrance. This is the moment he trained you for.” She looks at me wide-eyed. “Only you can get us safely below.”

  “Safely? Do you know who’s down there?”

  “Do you trust me?” she asks.

  I roll my eyes. “Why is everyone asking me that?”

  “Mate.” Seward rounds my shoulder with his arm as footsteps pound nearer. “We be out of time for trustin’. If you know the way, use it!”

  The first Amongus finds his way around the pile, and I take off toward the cave. I duck inside easy enough. Wren slips in behind. Jasper’s head appears — only his head — and he howls.

  “I’m stuck, stuck in the pass! Ow!”

  Jasper crashes into the tunnel, and Seward scrambles off his back. “Don’t know what you’ve been eating, but you better be hopin’ that’s the pinchiest we meet.” Seward hoists Jasper to his feet. The cave darkens as the Amongus converge on the entrance. “Lead, Luca!”

  “Okay … okay …” I rub my hands together and swipe the sweat from my brow.

  Blank.

  My mind blanks.

  Lefts and rights float about, but nothing sticks. I glance to each side. Thin tunnels lead off in each direction.

  Wren places her hand on my head. “It’s here. It’s all here. Relax.”

  In the distance, I hear Seward’s voice. “One’s inside the cave!”