The Princess and the Captain (37 page)

Feeling desperate, she retraced her steps to the bay where she had been washed up a few hours earlier. Her eyes no longer saw the rivers, her ears no longer heard the birds, her heart was caught in her breast like a frightened, frail little animal.

Once she was back on the beach, she made unhesitatingly for the ochre stone temple. Although she had no idea what she would find there, her instinct told her to go in. She pushed at the heavy wooden door, which swung back on its hinges with a groan. It was dark and cool inside. Rays of light fell through the cracks in the roof made by the roots growing there. A few insects buzzed around her as she walked in.

A stone slab covered with moss and cobwebs stood in the middle of the single room inside. Something was shining on top of the slab. Malva thought at first that a ray of light was lingering there, and looked up at the cracks in the dome, but no, it was not a sunbeam. She went closer, and then saw a long wand of pure crystal set in the stone. An intense, almost blinding light shone from its cut facets.

Malva looked at the crystal for a long time, fascinated by its
perfect shape and mysterious brilliance. The light seemed to come from inside it. There was something alive about it, a kind of pulsing like a heartbeat. She put out her hand and touched its smooth surface.

No sooner had her fingers made contact with the crystal than she felt warmed through by its light. Everything confused seemed to her suddenly lucid, plain and clear. An intense sensation of well-being engulfed her; she felt she was herself, determined to live here for ever, to build her house here and make her dreams come true. The light acted on her like a revelation. Never mind Philomena and Uzmir! Never mind Galnicia, never mind the Coronada! Never mind Orpheus and his companions on the
Fabula
! She must live her life without them, far from them all. She must save herself by forgetting them.

Malva looked at her fingers on the crystal, and suddenly realised what it was.

‘The Vuth-Nathor,' she murmured.

She had known the name since old Bulo spoke of it on the
Estafador
just before the shipwreck. He had described its brilliance, he had warned his listeners against its lure. The Vuth-Nathor had haunted his nights and accompanied him through all his days. Yes, she remembered it all! The old man had wanted to take the treasure away, and that had brought disaster on him: he had been expelled from Elgolia, condemned to pursue a dream forever beyond his reach for the rest of his days, a dream that was now just a memory.

Suddenly she was afraid. She stepped back, her heart thudding, and moved away from the crystal.

Then she turned and ran out of the temple, her mind racing. When she was back in the sunlight looking at the beach of white
sand, the trees and the birds, she no longer knew what to do. For a brief moment the Vuth-Nathor had shown her, but it had not lasted long. She had only had to get away from the crystal for everything to become complicated, ambiguous and hopelessly confused again.

She sat down on the sand, drew her knees up to her chin and tried to think. If I stay here, she said to herself, what will happen? I'll build my house, perhaps I'll be able to live in freedom … but will I be alone for ever?

Once again she felt like crying. Everything she had dreamed of until now was worthless without the people she loved. She had been wrong! She had thought that happiness awaited her in Elgolia, but all she had found here was loneliness and regret.

She sighed and rubbed her face. On the other hand, what would happen if she gave up Elgolia? Could she join Orpheus, Lei and the others again? And once she was on board the
Fabula
, wouldn't they all be condemned to the Immuration?

So what was the point of that?

Malva stretched out her legs and lay down in the sand, face turned to the sun. It seemed an impossible choice. She would have liked help, she would have liked someone to decide for her, or then again she'd have liked the wave that had brought her here to come back and take her away, even if it drowned her! She'd have liked Orpheus to appear on the beach, bend down and take her in his arms the way he had this very morning on the deck of the
Fabula
…

‘Orpheus!' she called desperately.

There was no reply, and her voice died away. The silence whispered its terrible murmuring in her ears. She ached all over.

After a while she got to her feet, dry-eyed. Swaying as she walked, she went back to the temple doorway. Not quite
knowing how, she had come to her decision as she cried and lay on the sand. She entered the temple, went up to the Vuth-Nathor, put both hands on it and pulled with all her strength. The light went through her again, illuminating her mind, but she resisted its call.

‘Let me go back to my friends!' she asked. ‘My place is on board the
Fabula
!'

The Vuth-Nathor shone more brightly than ever. She felt a burning sensation on the palms of her hands, stinging worse and worse until she couldn't bear it. The burning made her cry out and suddenly take her hands off the crystal.

Nothing around her had changed. The temple was still there, damp and buzzing with insects.

‘Let me go back to them!' she shouted again, for the benefit of the invisible Divinities. ‘I don't want to be here in Elgolia!'

The silence and the dim light made her heart sink. No divinity had lived here for a long time. There was no one to answer her request.

Devastated, Malva left the temple. Had old Bulo lied to her? Was the power of the Vuth-Nathor irreversible? Was she condemned to stay here for ever in the Bay of Dao-Boa, which no longer meant anything to her?

She went down to the sea. And suddenly, just as she was thinking of walking into the waves to end it all, she saw a sail approaching the island. A white sail, and the mainmast of a ship … it was the
Fabula
! Her heart leaped in her breast.

‘Here I am!' she shouted, waving her arms. ‘Here I am! Come and pick me up, by Holy Harmony!'

She turned round. A ray of crystalline light was shining on top of the temple like the lantern of a lighthouse in the middle of the sea. Its radiance was guiding the
Fabula
in!

Malva jumped up and down and waved her arms until she could see the pale but beaming faces of Lei and the twins in the bows. They were laughing and crying at the same time, while Babilas and Orpheus handled the ship in the stern. She went into the water, first wading and then swimming, drawn to the
Fabula
as if by a magnet. At last Orpheus left the tiller and threw out the rope ladder so that she could climb back on board.

When she clambered over the rail her companions gathered around her. Zeph barked, but no one could say a word. Orpheus simply opened his arms, and Malva fell into them, unashamed, with unutterable relief and happiness.

‘I'm back,' she murmured. ‘Whatever happens I'll stay with you for always.'

Then the
Fabula
turned and moved away from the shores of the deceptive land of Elgolia, whose promises Malva had turned down.

Another Stone of Life had crumbled inside the Nokros. The crew of the
Fabula
had only five days to find the way out of the Archipelago.

Malva said nothing about what had happened to her. The next day the twins questioned her, begging her to tell them, but they got nowhere. The visions she had seen on Mount Ur-Tha haunted her memory. Every time she opened her eyes, she saw the beautiful shore of the Bay of Dao-Boa, and felt unspeakable pain. All she could do was shut herself in her cabin, pick up her pen and write down what she was feeling.

I have abandoned my dream
, she wrote.
I fled from Elgolia. If Philomena knew, what would she think of me? I never stopped telling her about its beauties! Am I just a dreamer who's never satisfied? A spoilt child? An inconstant Princess?

Yet I don't regret my choice. I would have been so frightened alone on that island … and I'd never have forgiven myself for leaving the
Fabula.
I'd have felt like a criminal. So did I just act out of a sense of duty?

No
.

I admit … there was Orpheus too
.

I can't tell the twins that. I've a feeling that they are very fond of me, and
rather jealous. Poor things. But soon none of our little heartaches will matter much. When the Immuration opens up before the ship, we'll have nothing left but our tears
.

Did I make the greatest mistake of my life when I decided to come back on board?

Sometimes Malva wondered if Catabea had intended to save her by calling up that wave and sending it towards Elgolia. Sometimes she thought the opposite, and suspected that the Guardian of the Archipelago had set a trap for her, a snare and delusion. What was the truth? It seemed impossible to tell in this universe with its strange rules.

What I saw from the top of the tree preys on my mind
, Malva went on writing.
If my mother has died while I've been away, if Philomena is unhappy, if the Baighurs are at war and the Archont is murdering men on other ships to steal a Nokros from them, it's my fault. I am responsible for the whole disaster. How can I say so to the others? Even Orpheus might not want to listen. So I am confiding in my journal alone. Writing is all that's left to me … how angry my father would be to see me wasting ink and paper like this! But dear Coronador, do you still think that I write nothing but tall stories?

When she had poured out her heart on paper long enough, Malva felt better. She looked at the Nokros. Acid was already dripping on to the last but one Stone of Life. Come on, she told herself severely. If we have only three days left to live, let's live them to the full!

She left her cabin and went up on deck. It was late in the morning now, and the sun was climbing to its highest point. The weather was hot, and the currents were still weak. As usual Finopico was fishing, with his feet wedged against the beak-head rail, the only one still firmly in place after the wave had struck the ship. Babilas was at the helm while Orpheus, Lei and the twins were repairing the damage to the sails.

‘Let me help you,' said Malva, going over to them.

Orpheus gave her a smile, and the twins were quick to make room for her. Malva was about to sit down when Finopico let out a shout of pain. Leaning over the rail, he was tugging frantically at his line, but it was running out from its reel, and had cut the palm of his hand. With blood all over his jersey, the cook called Babilas to the rescue.

‘It's a big one!' he cried. ‘A sparbot or a barraquin!'

His bamboo rod was bending under the weight of the fish, and at the other end of it the line was as tense as a piano string. Babilas lashed the tiller down, strode over and took hold of the rod. The two men tried hauling the line in, but the fish was thrashing about so strongly that they couldn't even get it above the water.

‘We've hooked it!' cried Finopico. He turned the reel several times, while Babilas acted as counterweight.

The twins and Malva came over to the rail. Where the line disappeared into the water, they saw turbulence and huge bubbles. The fish struggling there must be an impressive size.

‘Careful, I'm giving it some slack!' Finopico warned.

He let the line out a little, but at that moment it stretched taut so suddenly that it almost broke. Caught off balance, Finopico was carried away by his rod, and Babilas had to seize his belt to keep him from falling overboard.

‘
Ganeg hosgid!
' swore the giant.

Finopico's distorted face had turned pale. His knuckles were white with the effort he was making, and streams of sweat ran down his temples, but he wasn't giving up.

‘Incredible!' he exclaimed. ‘I've never known such a strong fish! It may be … surely it is … a Ghoom!'

He and Babilas struggled for some time longer, shouting,
grunting, cursing the waves and the sky, while the rest of the crew watched the struggle, fascinated. They could tell that the fish was leaping and diving below the frothing surface of the water, struggling fiercely for survival. Orpheus, who had joined the others, watched the scene uneasily.

‘You'd better give up,' he told the cook. ‘That fish is too strong for you.'

Finopico turned a red and furious face on him. ‘Give up? Never! Someone find the harpoons! We must impale it and weaken it that way!'

Orpheus glanced unhappily at the surface of the water. ‘Oh, all right,' he sighed. ‘Let's give it a try.'

The twins hurried off to the galley and came back with the harpoons that Finopico had made on Jahalod-Rin's island. Meanwhile Babilas had rolled a hawser round Finopico's waist and tied its other end fast to the capstan, so that the cook wouldn't fall overboard.

‘Harpoon it!' Finopico cried.

Hob and Peppe took aim and threw the harpoons into the churning water. The pointed wooden spearheads disappeared among the bubbles.

‘Again!' shouted Finopico.

The twins took aim once more, and this time the harpoons hit their mark. They stood vertical in the water, and an enormous dorsal fin emerged, black and shining, serrated like a kitchen knife. Finopico let out a cry of victory, but his joy was shortlived.

In its pain the monstrous fish bucked, lashed the surface violently with its tail, and shot straight ahead. Finopico's rod creaked but did not give way. A sudden movement shook the
Fabula
. Soon the ship gathered speed.

‘It's dragging us away!' cried Orpheus, astonished.

Malva and Lei, both of them taken aback too, clung to the rail. The enormous fish, wounded and furious, was hauling the
Fabula
along in its desperate course while Finopico, bending over his rod, shouted hysterically.

‘Let go!' ordered Orpheus.

‘No!' replied the cook. ‘It's the fish or me.'

Babilas had stepped back. He seemed equally alarmed by the strength of the fish and Finopico's obstinacy.