The Mariner (24 page)

The reverend smiled grimly. “But that was long ago. The point I was trying to make was that I’m not a sailor, I’ve never spent time at sea, so I wouldn’t know how to read the signs like you do. Though when the sun went down I didn’t see a hint of cloud in the sky, and I don’t see how you could tell if there was one now.”

“Pardon?”
Something’s wrong
. Suddenly the Mariner’s breath became shallow, the hairs on his neck bristling.

“I mean,” McConnell continued, unaware of the Mariner’s alarm. “Who can tell what’s in the night sky? A dragon could hover right above and we’d never know.”

The Mariner paused and looked into the abyss above. There wasn’t even the slightest hint of light in any direction.

“But there’s usually some light...”

“From where?”

“The sky.”

McConnell grinned and shook his head. “My friend, you’ve either been at the bottle or touched by God, I’m not sure which. The night is the night, there is no light.”

The Mariner wanted to grab McConnell by the shoulders and shake him, force him to remember, but he knew better than that. If McConnell had forgotten about the stars and the moon, then for all their sakes he should avoid the subject. He remembered the change that had occurred in the philosophy teacher. He remembered the change in Absinth.

Absinth. He hissed the name through his teeth, remembering the dream from which he’d awoken.

“Something about the Oracle..”

McConnell didn’t respond and the silence was pleasing. The Mariner sought no conversation, instead he focused his attention on the surrounding blackness. The suffocating dark felt like a huge wall about to bear down. Oppressive and bleak.

McConnell had forgotten the existence of stars and who could blame him? There wasn’t a single star to be seen.

25
FRESH SHORES

J
UST AS THE
M
ARINER HAD
predicted, the morning brought a breeze that slowly pushed the Neptune into motion. Contrary to his foretelling however, there was no rain. The Mariner watched the sky throughout the early hours until the rising sun changed the pigment from murky black to brilliant blue. His fears had been confirmed, there were no clouds. Had they cleared before dawn? The alternative seemed too daunting to contemplate.

“What are you looking for?” Grace asked as she’d awoke, rubbing her face to cast off the night’s grime.

“Nothing,” the Mariner lied. To mention the stars was a risk he wasn’t prepared to take, not with McConnell, and certainly not with Grace. “With the wind returning we should arrive soon.”

This seemed to bring a great deal of cheer to the girl, though the Mariner couldn’t understand why. The only place in the world he had a desire to be was aboard this ship, and even then it was out of necessity rather than affection. What must it be like to feel a connection to a place or time? Was the island he sought such a place? Would it be his home?

Like the previous two mornings, the devils busily gathered around Grace for their early feed. The Mariner had watched in disgust as Grace shelled out portions of her travel provisions to each of the beasts with equal measure.

“It won’t be long until the wind picks up, then they can find themselves food at the zoo!” the Mariner chided, but Grace had turned her nose up in protest.

“They are members of the crew, just like us. Aren’t you Basil?”

The devil, tongue and teeth dripping with drool, wasn’t interested in the notion of equality, merely the piece of dried meat in her hands.

“Bllleeeeeuuuugggghghhhhh!”

“That’s right, you are,” she’d said, patting the beast and allowing it to eat from her palm.

The Mariner had watched both feeds, amazed that every time she allowed their chops near her fingers she never lost a single digit.

This morning was different, there was no more food to go around and the devils were beginning to gather expectantly.

“She has them well trained doesn’t she?”

McConnell appeared beside the Mariner, doing up his trousers from using the latrine. Both men watched the girl and beasts from the safety of the far side of the deck, having learnt from harsh experience that the devils liked to have priority when it came to breakfast.

“No, they have
her
well trained,” the Mariner said as he checked his Mauser. “You think they’re fluffy little dogs? They’re not. I’ve seen those things strip a person to the bone. She thinks she’s the master because when they’re fed they don’t kill her, but they’re the ones holding the power. They’re the ones that choose not to kill.”

“But she’s got no more food to give!”

The Mariner looked at McConnell gravely and raised his pistol, ready for the first sign of aggression.

“Right listen up you lot!” Grace called the devils to attention, clapping her hands as if addressing a classroom. “We’re going to be arriving at the zoo soon and I want you to be on your best behaviour!”

A dozen small heads cocked to the side as they tried to understand why this monkey was chattering instead of dishing out grub.

“There are lots of other animals there and you’re not to hurt any of them. You can play, but you can’t bite.”

One eager devil, having grown impatient hopped out of the crowd towards Grace’s bare leg.

The Mariner tensed his finger on the trigger.

“Bluuuurg-”

“No!” Grace swatted the devil on the nose. The beast’s eyes widened with dumb shock, its trap slapping shut in confusion. “That’s a
bad
Vivian! Very naughty! No tummy rubs for you.”

Fully chastised, Vivian the devil grumbled and laid down, nestling his snout between dainty paws.

“There’s no more food, I’m all out.” Grace held her hands out, palms open like a magician performing a magic trick. A dozen faces turned to look at them and then back to the girl’s face, trying to understand the complex concept. “But when we get to the zoo I will find you some breakfast, and then we’ll all eat together. Won’t that be nice?”

For a moment, the Mariner was sure they’d all break rank and savage her, but then the girl clapped hands and, as if dismissed, the beasts meandered away.

“She’s broken them,” the Mariner huffed, holstering his Mauser and refusing to look McConnell in the eye. Basil walked up to the two men to see if the responsibility of dispensing food had simply passed from one monkey to another. “Some guards you are!” he growled, lightly kicking at the beast, though avoiding actual contact. Grace would probably swat him on the nose too if he wasn’t careful.

As the sun climbed into the sky, all three human passengers watched as the island grew closer. Unlike Sighisoara, the zoo had little height, instead its mass was broad and flat, nestled with trees and strange skeletal structures.

“What are those?” he asked, pointing and squinting.

“They’re cages,” Grace explained as an absolute authority on the matter. “They used to hold all the animals in them, but now the animals just roam about. It was cruel to keep them locked up.”

“What sort of animals?”

Grace shrugged. “Big ones, small ones.”

The Mariner scanned the shore for a suitable place to dock, but unlike Sighisoara there didn’t seem to be any formal point. Instead, the entire circumference was littered with small bays and scattered rocks, shallow waters and beds of sand. All far too shallow to bring the Neptune anywhere near.

“We’ll drop anchor here.” The Mariner was stern and resolute. “I’ll take a row-boat out to see if it’s safe and then return to collect the pair of you.”

“How long will you be?” Grace frowned and stuck out her bottom lip. Having no experience with children, the Mariner looked to McConnell for assistance.

The reverend however was more concerned about being left alone with the devils. He glanced nervously at the pack whose collective bellies were creating a steady rumbling hum. “Perhaps it would be best if we all went together? It’s just a zoo after-all.”

“Yeah, plus we’ve been there before, and you haven’t!” This seemed to settle the debate for Grace. The Mariner shook his head, outmanoeuvred and more than slightly annoyed.

Dropping anchor, lowering the sails and preparing the row-boat took more time than anticipated. Already irritated, the Mariner was vexed by how stubborn the ship was behaving. Tasks that had previously been performed so easily, as if the ship chose to do them herself, now proved a chore; long, almost back-breaking work. And even once they were completed an additional delay presented itself: persuading Grace they couldn’t take all of the devils with them.

“They are the guardians of the Neptune. They can’t come with us.”

“But I promised!”

Is this what it’s like
, wondered the Mariner,
to live with other human beings? Them putting up resistance to every sane suggestion you make?

“Okay, okay. You can take four with you this time. Perhaps others later.”

Grace spent some time calculating which devils to bring along, seemingly by tallying up various small indiscretions in her head and grading each animal on its good behaviour. “Holly! Basil! Percy! Hedgehog!”

Much to the Mariner’s increasing frustration the four beasts responded to her call instantly and allowed themselves to be picked up and placed in the boat. Each in turn snuggled down obediently, looking up at the sour Mariner with a smug expression on their fox-like features. “Bloody stupid names.”

“Arf!”

“How do you think it came back?” McConnell was asking questions again as the small row-boat finally hit the shore. It came to a jarring halt as it slid up the short beach, a generous portion of wave spilling over the stern.

The Mariner shook his head at the reverend’s question, professing ignorance.

“But you brought it didn’t you?” McConnell’s eyes searched the Mariner’s face for an answer. “Grace said you remembered and then it appeared?”

“I didn’t-,” the Mariner stopped, not wanting to share the revelations he’d felt, yet wanting the conversation to end. “I was remembering something else. I’ve never been to a zoo before.”

What could he say? In that moment, standing upon the dock of Sighisoara, back turned to the burning remains of his one chance at rehabilitation, he had not remembered the zoo at all. He’d been remembering... what? Intimacy? Love? Whatever it was, he struggled to recall it now.

“You’ve never been to a zoo?!” Grace exclaimed, listening despite running up the beach. She shook her head disapprovingly. “Oh dear, oh deary me.”

The four accompanying devils each hopped out of the boat and began sniffing about the sand, leaving criss-crossing tracks as they scouted. McConnell helped the Mariner drag the boat further up the bank to a spot where it would be safe from the tide. The reverend fell silent, worried and disappointed by the Mariner’s lack of clarity.

“Let’s go! Let’s go!”

“Grace!” the Mariner snapped, his anxiety once again surfacing as irritation. He lifted a finger to his mouth.
Shhh
.

The island was quiet, but not silent. A constant chatter of birds filled the canopy, their light chirping disarming, and although the young girl’s plea had been startlingly loud, she’d failed to interrupt the chorus. High above, a parrot dressed in glorious reds and greens glided lazily, totally unperturbed by the island’s new guests.

That’ll soon change
, the Mariner thought as he looked from the bird to his devils, who left long trails of drool beside their paw-prints.

The sand bank was small, no more than a short break amidst large outcrops of boulders, straddled by decaying vegetation. Further inland, the sand petered out into dry brown shade, beneath tall leafy trees and beyond them were the first cages Grace had spoken of, bars stretched out like spiders legs.

Suddenly, rising up through the canopy, echoed a chortling insane scream, lingering somewhere between a laugh and a wail. Fuelled by adrenaline, the Mariner drew his Mauser, pointing it into the shadows, searching for whatever madman had caused the sound. Only after squinting rapidly through all possible ambush points, did he notice his companions had made no similar reaction; Grace raised an eyebrow as if he were the one insane, and McConnell thinly concealed his mirth.

“It’s just a monkey.”

“A what?” The Mariner remained alert despite feeling increasingly foolish.

“A monkey, you know, oooh ooh ooh!” Grace turned her arms around until each reached into an armpit and hopped from foot to foot. Now it was the Mariner’s turn to presume madness.

Grace continued her impression, much to the confusion of the devils who were watching her with with interest, backing away as if she were an erratic echidna.

“Are they dangerous?”

“Not usually.” McConnell patted the Mariner’s shoulder. “I think you can put your gun away.”

“He’s right, you know.” The voice came from the rocks to their side and surprised even the devils. A man in grey robes sat watching them, stillness disguising him throughout their arrival. “You won’t need a weapon here.”

“Who are you?” The Mariner stepped forward and pointed his gun at the robed fellow. McConnell moved quickly to Grace, protectively putting his arms around her.