The Goblin's Gift (22 page)

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Authors: Conrad Mason

BOOK: The Goblin's Gift
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Jeb gave her a nudge, bringing her attention back to the quayside. Nearby, a few off-duty sailors lounged on overturned crates, watching them. Tabitha felt very exposed.

‘You lot wait here,' muttered Jeb. ‘Back in a brace of shakes.'

Before Tabitha could protest, he had darted over to the sailors and begun speaking to the biggest of them, a troll with a weather-beaten face and fists the size of cannonballs.

‘You can let me go now,' said Pallione. ‘Into the sea.'

Her head was poking out again, and Tabitha quickly covered it.

‘You want to get us killed?' she hissed. ‘Stay under, for Thalin's sake.'

‘Tabs,' said Joseph, grabbing hold of her sleeve. His face had come alive, and his eyes had lost their glassy look. He pointed along the docks.

Tabitha caught her breath. A gang of men with muskets was swaggering towards them. There were six of them and they walked side by side, spread out loosely between the sea and the store fronts so that no one could get past. They looked like scruffy reprobates. Definitely not blackcoats, and they weren't wearing the sea-green band of the Fayt navy either.

‘What's going on?' asked Pallione. ‘Shh. Whatever you do, don't move.' Tabitha's right hand fumbled inside her coat for a knife. ‘We won't run,' she murmured. ‘That way they'd definitely chase us. We'll just walk away fast and take a side street. Clear?'

Jeb strode back towards them, rubbing his hands.

‘Well, that's that. Got us a ship for tomorrow morning. Had to call in a little favour, but it's—'

He froze, staring at something beyond them. Tabitha looked up and saw six more men approaching from the opposite direction.

Trapped. Like merfolk in a net.

Chapter Twenty-four

‘
WELL, STRIKE MY
colours and call me Nancy. If it ain't old Jeb the Snitch. How are you, my dear?'

The voice was a grating, high-pitched whine. It seemed to suit its owner, who stepped forward from the surrounding circle of bully boys. He was an elf, tall and spindly, with dirty grey curls sprouting madly from under his tricorne hat. His coat was made of some strange, rough material stained with blood, and a cutlass rested on his shoulder. On his other shoulder perched a messenger fairy, wearing exactly the same outfit as his owner.

‘And you,' said the elf, turning to Joseph. The
tavern boy seemed to have recognized him, and wasn't looking too happy about it. ‘Now, you
are
a sight for sore eyes, my duck. The young fellow who got my sweet Florence near killed and gave us the slip. How things have changed, eh? Last time I saw you, old Jeb here was trying to kill you. Now it seems you're the best of friends. How lovely.' He smiled so widely that Tabitha began to wonder if he was entirely sane.

‘Harry—' Jeb began, but the elf held up a finger, cutting him off.

‘And you, my darling,' he said to Tabitha. He swept off his hat and bowed low, the fairy on his shoulder mimicking him perfectly. Tabitha kept her hand curled tightly around the knife inside her coat. ‘I don't believe we've had the pleasure. Folk call me Harry. Formerly of Harry's Shark Pit. Of course, those days are gone now.'

His smile turned into an equally exaggerated frown, the sides of his mouth curving down as low as they would go. ‘No pit for old Harry any more. No sharkies neither. The Boy King took them, see? Took them for his show. Harry works for the boy now, my ducks. And the boy is looking for something. He's sent us all out, see, combing the streets. Poor lad's in a right tizzy, my dears, and no mistake.' He
reached up to tickle his fairy under the chin. ‘Then this little darling spotted you trundling down Mer Way, and I thought to myself, why not ask my old friends if they happen to have seen anything, eh?'

Tabitha shot a glance at the wheelbarrow, and saw that the sackcloth was quivering, as though Pallione was shaking with fear. She stepped in front of the elf.

‘Whoever he's looking for, it isn't us,' she said. ‘So we'll be on our way if you don't mind.'

The elf's eyes narrowed, and he leaned down towards her. Now Tabitha could see what his coat was made out of.

Shark skin
.

‘Interesting choice of words, duck,' said Harry. ‘“Whoever”, is it? Believe I said he was looking for some
thing
, not some
one
. But as it happens, you're right. The boy's looking for a mermaid, name of Pallione. Ring any bells?'

Tabitha could have kicked herself. She shook her head stiffly, not trusting herself to say anything.

Harry stepped past her. The mermaid's quivering stopped as he walked slowly around the wheelbarrow, inspecting it. Suddenly he brought the cutlass down hard against the wooden sides. There was a hollow thunk but Pallione didn't move.

‘Strikes me,' said Harry, ‘if I was planning on kidnapping a mermaid – and believe me, I've stolen a few in my time' – the bully boys sniggered – ‘a wheelbarrow wouldn't be a bad choice to cart her off in. What do you think, Jeb, my sweet?'

Jeb shrugged.

‘How about you, dearie?'

Joseph nodded, then changed his mind and shook his head, blushing deeply.
Perfect
. He couldn't keep a secret to save his life.

‘Well then,' said Harry. ‘Maybe we should look inside?'

Tabitha felt the wind go out of her sails. He knew. Harry
knew
. He was just toying with them.

‘What do you want?' she asked.

The elf turned his mad gaze on her.

‘What do I want?'

‘In exchange for leaving us alone.'

A faraway look came into Harry's eyes and, for a moment, Tabitha allowed herself to hope.

‘What do I want? I want my shark pit back, dear. Want to see my sharkies prowl those waters again. To see the fighters trembling as they go out to meet them. See the deadly dance, just one more time. The cut and thrust. Darling Florence and Marjorie and Lucille biting down on a nice chunk of merfolk flesh.
Those tails twitching their last. Blood spreading through the—'

Pallione erupted from the wheelbarrow, throwing aside the sackcloth and rearing up above the elf. In that instant, Tabitha saw how wrong she'd been about the mermaid. She'd been trembling, all right. But not with fear.

‘You!' roared Pallione. ‘You
filth
!'

Harry just had time to raise his cutlass before she fell upon him, tipping the wheelbarrow with her. He stumbled and made a strangled sound as the mermaid's arms locked around his neck, crushing his windpipe, tighter and tighter. His hat toppled to the ground and his fairy took to the air, squawking with terror.

‘Thalin's sake!' shouted Tabitha. ‘Let him go!' She waded in, grabbed hold of Harry and tried to tug him away from Pallione. Joseph leaped forward and joined her. But they weren't strong enough. Harry's face was going purple. His fairy darted around their heads, jabbering and shaking his tiny fist at them.

The bully boys had their muskets raised now, trying to work out whether to shoot or not.

‘Let go,' Tabitha begged, staring into the mermaid's eyes. But Pallione seemed too angry even to notice her.

Jeb dived in, grabbed hold of the wheelbarrow handles and tugged. Pallione overbalanced, loosening her grip just enough for Harry to break free and stagger forward, pushing Tabitha and Joseph aside. He turned at the edge of the pier, and his face would have been comical if it hadn't been such a terrifying colour.

Before he could say a word Tabitha stepped forward once, twice, and planted her boot squarely in his chest. A quick shove and the elf dropped like a stone over the edge of the pier, his mouth still open in shock. His fairy dived after him, squealing.

‘Come on!' shouted Tabitha. She barged into Jeb, took the handles of the wheelbarrow and put her full weight into it, driving the mermaid towards the line of bully boys.

‘No!' howled Pallione. ‘Take me back. I'll kill him!' She leaned over the side, quick and elegant as a leaping dolphin, swept Harry's fallen cutlass up off the ground and flung it hard. It went spinning into the surf, a few feet from the shark-pit owner. ‘Turn round!' she bellowed. ‘Turn round now!'

But Tabitha wasn't turning round for anyone.

At the sight of the wheelbarrow and the furious mermaid careering towards them, the bully boys scattered. There were two or three musket shots, but too late. They were through.

Tabitha cast a glance backwards, saw Joseph and Jeb following. Joseph's face was white as a sail. He had his cutlass out and his skinny legs were pumping away as fast as they could go. Somehow Jeb had got hold of a musket and a pistol. He let fly randomly behind him.

A few of the bully boys had already pulled themselves together and were chasing after them as Harry's voice rose up from the water, a high-pitched squeal: ‘I'm coming for you, you sacks of scum! I'm going to gut you and skin you and turn you into coats. You'll all be coats! All of you!'

They thundered over the cobbles, past a few surprised sailors, and veered wildly into a side street. Tabitha's arms burned with the weight of the wheelbarrow, and she knew she might drop it at any moment. She wished Frank or Paddy were here … A troll would have no trouble running with this infuriating mermaid. Pallione was facing her, holding onto the sides of the wheelbarrow and scowling ferociously.

‘I told you to take me back,' she snarled. ‘I could have killed him. I could have got out of this horrible town for good, and instead I'm still stuck here in this filthy wheelbarrow with
you
.'

Tabitha almost tipped her out on the cobblestones.

‘Your fault …' she puffed, ‘we're running … in the first place …'

‘We're losing them,' shouted Joseph, from behind.

Tabitha looked back to see the tavern boy hot on her heels and Jeb half a street behind, firing at their pursuers. The bully boys were darting from cover to cover, returning fire, and it was slowing them down.

‘Go left here,' shouted Jeb, tossing his smoking weapons aside. ‘Then second right.'

‘You're not in charge, all right?' yelled Tabitha. ‘If anyone's in charge it's—'

A musket ball thunked into a cart by the roadside, sending splinters flying and shutting her up instantly.

The truth was, she didn't know where to go. And right now, following the Snitch's directions seemed like a better idea than doing nothing.

Another musket ball ricocheted off a shop sign above them, making it swing crazily.

‘You're not going to listen to him?' demanded the mermaid. ‘He's a crook!'

That decided it. No fish girl was going to tell her what to do.

She steered left, hard.

‘What are you doing?' squealed the mermaid.

‘Getting you out of here,' hissed Tabitha, through gritted teeth.

‘But—' said Pallione, then shut her mouth and tightened her grip on the sides of the wheelbarrow as they bounced over bumpy cobblestones. Tabitha took the second right, like Jeb had told her. A dark alleyway, where the overhanging buildings were so close they almost touched. A dead end.

‘I
told
you,' yelped the mermaid.

‘Quiet,' snapped Tabitha. Her heart was pounding like a drum, her arms ached and sweat stung her eyes. She wiped it away with her sleeve.

Joseph raced into the alleyway behind them, gasping for breath. ‘Where now?'

And then she saw it – a gap between the houses, just wide enough for a wheelbarrow to squeeze through. ‘There.' They raced in and stood in the darkness, panting. Footsteps sounded on the cobbles behind them and Jeb flung himself round the corner.

‘Told yer,' he said, with a wink. ‘No one knows these streets better than the Snitch.'

Tabitha ignored him.

They waited, uncomfortably close to each other, listening to the shouts of the bully boys on the main street. They were ankle deep in rotten vegetables and bits of old rubbish, and judging by the smell, Tabitha reckoned that more than one person had used their hiding place as a privy. Flies buzzed around
them, but Tabitha didn't dare swat them away.

A minute passed. Finally the voices and the footsteps receded into the distance.

Tabitha let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

They were safe.

That was, if you ignored the fact that the biggest gang in Port Fayt was out to get them. And that their only allies were a backstabbing goblin and a stuck-up mermaid. And that Joseph seemed more worried about his dead parents than about all the real, live people who wanted to kill them.

Safe
. Well, that was one way of looking at it.

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