Phoenix Rising (16 page)

Ayla released his hand, but kept her sword pointed unwaveringly in his direction. “What do you want?”

Toby gestured to Rahul’s bunk. “Mind if I sit down?”

Ayla shrugged and Toby sidestepped then sat.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” he said at last, “but we have a time limit. They’re going to hang a crew member for every hour we don’t surrender.”

Ayla nodded. “Makes sense, it’s what Nell would do.” She swung her feet so she was sitting up and dropped her sword point. Her hand trembled as she leaned the tip on the hard floor.

He hesitated and wondered if he could really ask her to go with him on the rescue mission. He imagined her rowing through the junk-filled darkness, ploughing through obstacles as she chased the
Phoenix
.

“Why were you sent after us?” He frowned suddenly. “Surely someone older … stronger?”

Ayla bristled immediately. “I told you before, I’m the captain’s second for a reason.”

“But…” Toby bit his lip – he couldn’t find a way to
avoid offending her. “To send you alone…”

Ayla exhaled and refused to meet his eye. “I wasn’t alone. Rochelle was knocked overboard by junk that swung past us in the dark. I don’t know what it was, we never saw. Ricardo made it as far as the straits, but then he wanted to take over the mission.”

“What happened to him?”

“I clobbered him with my oar.” She shook her head. “Nell won’t be pleased – they were two of her best. So I’d better return with the captain, or the directions to those solar panels, otherwise…”

“Otherwise what?” Toby whispered.

“You’ve seen the cage she uses for those who’ve displeased her.” Ayla tried to look nonchalant, but Toby saw her lip quiver.

“So you were serious about rescuing the captain?” Toby leaned forward. “If you were, we have a plan and, to be honest, we need you.”

Ayla tilted her head. “Of course I’m serious. But why do you
need
me? What kind of plan would rely on a rival pirate for its success?”

“A crazy one.” Toby brushed his hand through his hair. “But it’s the only one we’ve got.”

There was a pile of junk on the deck, everything from car bonnets to hubcaps. Each of the pirates sifted through, looking for something to protect them from the coming attack.

“Gods,” Nisha muttered. “This is madness.” She gestured to the port rail where Toby and Ayla were preparing.

Without her leather coat and black trousers Ayla looked smaller. Now she wore one of Peel’s shirts. It was long enough to reach past her knees and voluminous enough to hide the sword she refused to relinquish. Her hair was pulled into a loose tie and she had removed the beads but insisted on keeping her boots. Hiko had argued until she had removed the laces, so that they flapped around her ankles, loose and tired-looking.

She scowled at Toby, who had been allowed to keep a pair of trousers, but had on a shirt so ragged that he
might as well have been topless.

Hiko edged up to them with a knife in his hand. “Your hair.” He winced when Toby stared down at him.

“What’s wrong with it?” He ruffled his hands through his messy hair.

“It needs to go.”

Toby looked at Hiko’s roughly shaven head and sighed. “You’re right.”

When it was done, Toby rubbed a trembling hand over his bare skull.

“Now this.” Uma opened a pot of stinking cream. “That sea looks clean, but there’ll still be poisonous currents. You’ll need protection.”

Toby nodded, remembering Uma’s barrier cream from his swimming lessons, and the three of them covered themselves as best they could.

“It’ll wash off eventually, so don’t spend too long in the water.” Uma put the lid back on.

Toby took a deep breath. “Let’s go and get them out of there.”

With a cry, a pirate fell from the rigging to crunch on to the quarterdeck. An arrow stuck from his neck like a signpost.

“They’re attacking,” Theo cried. “Man the rails. They can’t be allowed to board.”

Toby, Hiko and Ayla stood out of view of the pier. It was a long way down into the water. Toby wrapped one hand around the rope he had prepared. “Get on, Hiko. It’ll be just like when we came down from the crow’s nest.”

The younger boy’s arms tightened around his shoulders and Toby winced at the added weight. Ignoring his discomfort, he swung his legs over the side. Ayla too had wrapped a rope around herself and a pack of weapons bristled on her back.

An arrow whistled between them and Toby ducked. The crew of the
Phoenix
were lined up along the railing, shaking with fear, frustration or fury but unable to do anything but stand guard.

“Theo,” Toby shouted, his eye caught by the remains of the junk pile Theo had created on the deck. “Throw that junk at them.” Theo brightened and Peel joined him in dragging chunks of scrap metal to the gunwale.

Ayla put her boots on the
Phoenix
’s hull and began to abseil towards the sea.

“Save Rahul, Toby,” Nisha called. She had a plastic chair back in one hand and a curved blade in the other. Toby nodded before he followed after Ayla, wishing he felt certain it was a promise he could keep.

Toby didn’t look down; he stared instead at the hull of the
Phoenix
. The faded colours of the bird greeted him as he jumped, easing the rope through his gloves.

The weight of Hiko on his shoulders made Toby’s back scream and, as Toby moved lower, rust and flaking paint reddened his bare feet. Finally his soles felt the cool wash of the water. He looked down. One more jump and then he could release the rope.

“Toby…” Hiko’s voice in his ear.

“What is it?” Toby jumped for the last time and slid on a patch of slimy weed. He winced as his toes bumped barnacles.

“I can’t swim.”

“Are you serious?” Alarmed, Toby tightened his fists on the rope, he had almost let go.

Ayla splashed into the water and Toby held his breath. The shirt ballooned around her. She rolled and gave him a thumbs up, then her booted feet began to kick as she headed for the prow and around to the quay.

Toby swallowed. With the open sea dangerously clogged with junk, the captain had periodically flooded the wreck room so that the pirates could learn to swim in safety.

“I can pull you, Hiko,” he said. “But you mustn’t fight me. If you struggle we could both drown.” Immediately he regretted his words, as Hiko’s arms tightened. “Ashes, we
don’t have time for this. Polly, can you watch Ayla?” The parrot flew around his head then sailed after the girl.

Instead of jumping free as he had planned, Toby lowered himself carefully into the water. Hiko’s legs wrapped around his waist as soon as the waves touched his feet.

“Gods, Hiko, why stow away on a ship if you can’t swim?” Toby floated with one hand still closed around the rope, keeping them both above the waves, careful not to swallow any water. “You have to let me go,” Toby cajoled him, but the boy didn’t move. “I can’t move with you like this.”

Slowly Hiko unwrapped his legs.

“See. You’re safe, we’re right against the ship. Can you feel the water?”

Hiko’s legs swung freely in the water like seaweed. “It’s cold.” His teeth chattered.

“Use my arm,” Toby urged him. “Hold on to it, but edge out, away from me.”

“Don’t let go!” There was panic in the boy’s voice and he had tensed once more. Hiko crept along Toby’s arm until he was hanging from his wrist, his face pale.

“Now lie on your back.” Toby kept his voice low and calm. “Relax, feel the waves bobbing you up and down.”

Hiko rolled, but the moment water splashed his face, he spun back and grabbed at Toby.

“Hiko, you have to do this.” Toby agonized – he needed to get beneath the pier. Ayla would already be climbing out.

He could sense the younger boy trying to gather his courage. “It’s only water,” Toby pleaded. “Lie back and then I can drag you.” He changed tack. “You were amazing on the
Banshee
, you sank your teeth into Crocker, you stowed away on a ship even though you can’t swim. You came up with this plan. You’re braver than I am, so if I can swim then you can, too. Just relax.”

Finally Hiko lay back in the water and let Toby wrap his arm beneath his chin. When the younger boy seemed comfortable, Toby released the rope. Both of them dropped and the salt washed over Toby’s face, terrifying Hiko, but the boy remained lying flat.

Relieved, Toby started to pull him towards the jetty.

As he reached the
Phoenix
’s ice-breaker Polly whisked into sight. “Stop,” she squawked.

Toby put a steadying hand on the hull and trod water. The metal was hot and Hiko lay behind him, rigid with terror. Polly circled out of sight once more. Soldiers were watching the sea. Toby’s heart thudded; his body was chilled now and he was starting to shiver. The water should be warm, with the sun blazing as it was, but the wind kept it endlessly churning, always cold.

Toby wasn’t used to long stints in the water and he was already tiring, his skin starting to tingle as the barrier cream washed off.

Finally Polly flew back round. “Quick,” she squawked. Toby swam as hard as he could towards Polly, and relied on her to lead him in the right direction. His arm ached as he reached forward again and again, propelling himself one-handed through the dragging tide.

Suddenly a shadow fell overhead and welcome shade blotted the glare as he swam beneath the jetty. Footsteps shook the pier and told Toby the soldiers were already receiving their backup. Quickly he searched for Ayla. She was perched on a piling in the centre of a shaft of sunlight, watching him with narrowed eyes as she squeezed water from her hair.

“What took you so long?”

Toby guided Hiko to a post of his own and Ayla nodded. “Oh.”

“I thought you might have gone without me.”

“Had to dry off a bit.” Ayla shrugged. “Wet dock rats would be suspicious, don’t you think?”

She shook her hair out and it started to fluff. The wet shirt that stuck to her body like a second skin was beginning to dry out. Toby forced himself to think of other things.

“Didn’t your boots make it?” He looked at her bare feet. Her toes curled around the pile. She nodded and raised a hand. She held her boots in the warmth, the leather cracking as they dried.

“All right.” Toby hauled himself out of the water and dragged Hiko after him.

To Toby’s surprise, Ayla moved over and pulled the boy into the sunshine. She rubbed his shoulders with one hand, drying him.

With all of his soot washed off, Hiko looked even paler. Toby frowned. On his right arm was a dark smudge that had not been removed by the sea. “What’s that?”

“What?” Hiko looked at his own arm. “My tattoo? I’ve always had it.”

Toby edged closer. On Hiko’s right forearm was a cross-hatch of lines. Toby counted eight horizontal and eleven vertical, with what looked like two tiny arrows beside.

“What does it mean?”

“Nothing. It’s the same as my father’s, a copy.” Hiko covered his marked arm with his other hand and Toby looked up again as marching boots rained dust from the boards above them.

They would have to find a place to climb up on to the deck and hope they weren’t spotted.

He pointed to a likely piling, with pitted grooves that could be used as footholds, and Ayla nodded.

Polly flew beneath the pier and landed on his shoulder.

“You can’t take that thing.” Ayla acknowledged the parrot with a tilt of her head. “It’ll draw attention.”

“Her name is Polly,” Toby growled. He stroked her with one finger. “She’s right though, Pol. Can you keep an eye on us from somewhere else?”

“Why’re you talking to it like that?” Ayla sneered. “It’s only a bird.”

“She’s cleverer than your dumb cat,” Toby snapped, as Polly flew a jeering wobble above Ayla’s head then swooped out from under the pier again.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Ayla paused with one hand on the wooden pillar.

Toby nodded.

“Then let’s be dock rats.” Ayla hopped on to the shorter post. She put her boots back on and then shinned up the column, digging in her fingers and using her arms to pull herself up. Hiko followed, more slowly, then Toby. His toes found every nook, his fingers every cranny. It was easy as climbing the pylon to the crow’s nest.

When Ayla reached the top of the jetty she put her arm up for the wood, paused and listened for activity above her head. Then she swung herself out and up as fast as a snake.
Toby heard her land on the pier, hesitate and then patter out of his way. Hiko went after her.

Toby took a deep breath. This was it, his first time on land since he was small. He judged about half an hour, maybe forty minutes, before the first of the crew was hanged. He balanced with his knees tight around the post, reached up, wrapped his hands around the landing and let go.

The wood was slippery, but his fingers adjusted to find purchase. He swung one leg up and paused for breath. Then he rolled his whole body on to the pier.

“What’re you doin’, Toby-who-knows-things?” The voice was low, curious. “And what’ve you done to your hair?”

A curse slid from Toby’s lips before he could stop it. He rolled on to his knees and looked into the face of a smiling, toothless dock rat.

“D’von,” he gasped. His eyes flickered and roved as he searched for Hiko and Ayla. Hiko was crouching behind a blackened aluminium barrow. Ayla rose up behind the teenage dock rat with her sword raised.

“Ayla, wait.” Toby lifted a hand to stop her and Ayla hesitated, staring at him in disbelief. Swiftly Toby took stock. They had emerged on to the pier behind a pile of stacked crates, only D’von had spotted them and he stood now, waiting for Toby to explain himself. Toby licked his lips. Was he making a mistake? Should he let Ayla cut the dock rat down?

“Toby?” D’von’s smile was slipping.

“D’von.” Toby rose to his feet. He gestured and Ayla lowered her sword with a scowl. “My friends and I have
something important to do. You’ve seen all the soldiers – they want my ship. We’re trying to stop them.”

“If the soldiers want your ship, you’d better give it to them.” D’von’s brow creased. “Soldiers are bad news. Do what they say for an easy life.” He nodded earnestly.

“I’m not after an easy life, D’von,” Toby snapped. “And I won’t allow my ship to be pulled apart for scrap or sold to St George.” He spread his hands. “Listen, we’re going to the castle to rescue our landing party. Just pretend you haven’t seen us.”

D’von’s frown cleared. “I can help you.” He smacked Toby’s shoulder with a loud crack and Toby suppressed a wince. D’von was already picking up a crate and dropping it into Toby’s arms.

Ayla hesitated and then she sheathed her sword.

“What do I do with this?” She swung the weapon pack from her shoulders.

“Into the barrow?” When Hiko spoke D’von blinked, noticing him for the first time, but Toby shook his head.

“Tie it under the pier and we’ll come back after a recce.”

Ayla nodded and hung the pack from a bollard so that it dangled beneath a loose plank. To the casual observer it was hidden but if anyone looked hard enough…

“It’ll have to do,” she said critically. Then the breath
was almost knocked out of her, as D’von shoved a crate into her arms.

Hiko was already picking up a box, his wiry muscles bulging with the weight. He slotted neatly into D’von’s world, a smaller dock rat – nothing to worry about.

As Toby took his first step, he staggered. His feet, used to the endless rocking of the
Phoenix
, were caught out by the unmoving boards beneath them. His ankles jarred and he almost fell.

Ayla’s hips swung ahead of him as she too overcompensated for the change from sea to land, but as he watched she swiftly gained her land legs.

Hiko shuffled worriedly beside him as Toby took another awkward step. This time his toes expected the ground to come up to meet him and he found himself missing his step altogether and tripping over his own feet.

“Toby!” Hiko shifted his crate under one arm and caught Toby with the other.

Toby’s eyes widened. “How can I rescue the crew if I can’t even walk?” Alarm raised his voice and Ayla turned around to shush him. She saw him tottering and frowned.

“Just take a moment,” she hissed. “Go slow. It’ll come to you.”

Toby shook Hiko off. “I’ll catch you up.” This time he placed each toe carefully and slowly his body began to get
the idea. By the time he reached the main part of the pier he was growing steadier.

Toby’s ears were assaulted by the noise of the dock – the sounds of rapid-fire Spanish mixed with heavily accented English, the thudding of feet and the barking of stray dogs.

“Crates and boxes over there,” D’von shouted. “Over there, you got it? All of them. Out of the way of the very important soldiers.”

Toby blinked as D’von swept his arm over the dock. Toby, Hiko and Ayla had managed to emerge from the sea at perhaps the only spot on the jetty that was not crawling with militia.

The soldiers were not only clustered in the shade of the
Phoenix
, they also gathered around the dock, ready to relieve the fighters. They leaned on stacks of crates and jeered at the dock rats. When one tripped, they laughed and placed bets on how hard the overseer would hit him.

Toby held his breath as a small boy flew past him, arms pinwheeling and a bruise already flowering on his cheek.

A crash and loud cry from the direction of the
Phoenix
made Toby look. An old car engine was rolling across the dock, bowling soldiers to either side. One of them was lying still; blood staining the timber beneath him.

Just ahead of him Toby saw a trio of soldiers glance at Ayla. Immediately she compressed herself, her shoulders drooped and her knees caved. Toby’s eyes widened. It was as if she had put on a cloak of invisibility, dropping below the soldiers’ line of sight.

Hiko, too, was moving in a low scuttle. He ducked beneath swinging hands and avoided pinches and tripping legs with years of expertise. He moved as if he knew where he was going and no one looked at him twice. Immediately Toby realized that he was sticking out. Quickly he hunched like Ayla, pulled his crate closer to his face, and followed D’von.

As he hefted his own load, D’von nodded at other dock rats. Three big lads that Toby recognized from when the new mast was delivered to the
Phoenix
were carrying the broken hull of a fishing boat. Toby held his breath, but not only did they not recognize him, they barely acknowledged his existence.

Hiko sensed his surprise. “Dock rats are always changing, Toby. Traded in and out, grown out of the cages, sold or killed. They assume you’re new traded.” Relieved, Toby nodded.

When Toby dumped his crate on the pile at the end of the jetty and shifted his gaze to the castle, D’von cuffed him around the ear. “Get more crates.”

Toby rubbed his ear. “We have to get to the castle,” he whispered.

Next to him Ayla was placing her own load. “We’re being watched.”

The trio of soldiers who had spotted Ayla earlier had rotated to watch the four of them place their cargo.

“If they call an overseer, we’re toast.” Hiko came up to Toby’s elbow. “
Keep working
.”

Toby ground his teeth, tore his eyes from the open portcullis and headed back to the jetty for a second crate.

“I’m not here to shift crates,” Ayla growled, but she followed him, stamping crossly on the wooden planks.

“Hey, you.” It was the soldiers. “You, there, with the boots.”

Ayla strode on mulishly keeping her head down, pretending deafness.

“Stop.”

“He means you,” Hiko supplied. Ayla stomped to a halt and Hiko skirted around her. “Keep moving,” he muttered to Toby. “A real rat wouldn’t wait around to be included.”

“But—”

Hiko shoved him from behind. “You don’t know what he wants. Don’t look back.”

D’von crowded him on the other side. “He’s right. The girl will be fine.” He paused. “Probably.”

Hiko pushed again. “Move, Toby.”

Toby raced to the crate pile and picked up the nearest box. It brimmed with clams and filled his nose with the stench of seafood left too long in the sun. The traders had been chased off the dock by the soldiers. Toby turned and took the walk back more slowly, giving himself the opportunity to watch Ayla.

Ayla remained still as the soldiers surrounded her.

Her hands clenched and unclenched and Toby could see that she was barely stopping herself from grabbing her sword from beneath Peel’s shirt.

“Take those boots off,” the smallest soldier said. He kicked at her toecaps. “They look about my size.”

Ayla’s shoulders grew tight and Toby could see that she was about to explode. There was nothing he could do. In his head he offered her all the boots she could ever want, if she would just take off her own and give them to the soldier without starting a fight.

He edged closer, the crate clutched to his chest. He tried to meet her eye, but Ayla was glowering at the soldier who had kicked her.

Toby coughed. Her green eyes flicked towards him and her face hardened. Then, slowly, as if she was handling an unexploded mine, she bent down and pulled her boots from her feet. Then she threw them at the soldier.
They bounced on the planks, two hollow thuds, and came to rest beside him.

The soldier curled his lip. “Rat! Pick up the boots. Hand them to me nicely.”

Hiko ran behind Toby, carting a crate almost as big as he was. “Don’t get involved,” the small boy muttered, as he went past.

Ayla bent, picked up the boots and held them out to the soldier, her face sullen.

The soldier stroked his moustache and took the boots, holding them up to his friends. “Damp,” he sneered. “Still, pretty good. How did you get away with keeping such good boots? The overseers are getting lax.” He leaned forward to stare into her eyes and raised his eyebrows, his cheer at his good fortune making him abruptly friendly. “Maybe you charmed him with your pretty green eyes, huh?” He reached out his free hand and his fingers raked through Ayla’s hair. He leered and said something in rapid Spanish. Ayla tensed and Toby could see that she was about to fight.

Taking a deep breath he ran into the soldier and spilled his crate of clams down the front of his uniform. The soldier jerked back. All three soldiers turned on Toby and Ayla was forgotten.

“Sorry, masters. Sorry, clumsy of me.” Toby ducked, covering his head as they aimed blows at him.

Ayla edged backwards until D’von caught her arm and, from under his, Toby saw him driving her back to the crates. Then he cried out as one of Ayla’s boots, swung in an uppercut, smacked his already tender chin. He wobbled backwards and saw stars long enough for the soldier to grab him by the arm and shove him in the direction of the crates.

“Get back to work and be more careful from now on, you filthy vermin.” The soldier spat.

Ayla ignored Toby as he staggered up – she was standing her ground against D’von.

“You’re too pretty,” he was telling her. “You need messin’.” He grabbed her arm in one hand and with the other, began to rub fish guts into her hair and face.

Hiko ran around to Toby. “Crates.” He nudged Toby into action, then stopped and stared at Ayla. Brown goo was slimed down her cheeks and her hair was now a clumped mess. His lips twitched into a grin. “Much better,” he snickered. Then he grabbed the lowest box, shouldered it and started to scuttle back to the edge of the jetty.

“He’s right.” Toby couldn’t help himself. He grabbed a box to avoid Ayla’s furious glare. But then he looked her in the eye. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?” Ayla snapped. Her bare feet fidgeted on the wooden planks.

“For giving him your boots.”

“It’s my own fault. I should’ve left them on the
Phoenix
.” Ayla picked up her own crate. Then she stopped. “You tried to protect me.”

Toby shrugged.

“No one ever did that before.”

“Not even Captain Nell?” Toby was shocked.

“You keep saying stuff like that, as if you think I receive special treatment. Maybe that’s true on the
Phoenix
, but the
Banshee
isn’t like that.”

“How come…” Toby gestured at Ayla’s hair.

“There is that.” Ayla grinned. “I don’t remember much about life before I got on the
Banshee
, but I remember throwing the mother of all tantrums when she tried to cut off my hair. Eventually she let me keep it. Maybe when I disappoint her it’ll go.”

Toby tilted his head. “Why would you disappoint her?”

“Everyone does, in the end.” Ayla sighed. “I’ve learned not to get too close to any of the crew she takes on. It’s easier.” She looked him directly in the eye. “Still, I’ve learned some useful stuff over the years. You think that soldier could’ve laid a hand on me if I didn’t allow it? I don’t need a sword in my hand to defend myself.”

Toby swallowed. “Well, it was less suspicious for me to
take a thumping than three soldiers to get beaten up by a dock rat. Come on, we’ve got to get to the castle.”

The pile of crates was growing smaller and Toby’s nerves were wound tighter as each moment passed. He found himself glancing at the castle walls again and again. He was terrified that he would see one of his friends flying rope-necked from the ramparts.

“Watch for me,” he murmured to Ayla and she immediately busied herself in front of him, stacking the final crates as she kept watch.

When she indicated that the coast was clear, Toby retrieved the pack of weapons and tossed them into the bottom of the barrow Hiko had hidden behind. Then Ayla helped him load it up with dripping plastic crates. One of the boxes, laden with bitter, soggy oranges, had a piece of sackcloth tossed over it.

“Careful with that, rat.”

Toby looked up, sharply.

“That’s mine. And once that damned pirate ship is boarded and they let us traders back on the wharf I’ll be checking every bit of stock for damage. I’ll remember your face, rat.”

Toby didn’t answer – he ducked his head and picked up
the cloth-covered box, putting it on top of the pile in the barrow. Then he hefted one handle and Ayla the other. Together they wobbled back towards the new pile of crates that was growing on the very edge of the wharf, out of the soldiers’ way.