Mistress of the Storm (23 page)

Verity glanced enquiringly at him, and he nodded in answer to the unspoken request. Not many adults would have blithely encouraged a young girl to experiment with something that could blast them both to pieces, but not many adults were Jasper Cutgrass.

Verity held the sphere at arm’s length and gently turned it in a circle. As she did so, a light breeze whispered around her. The open pages on the table rustled and flapped. She moved the sphere slightly faster: the wind picked up. The canvas-clad box blew down onto the floor. Verity felt a powerful urge to move the ball faster still – and Jasper was knocked backwards against the bookshelf.

Verity gave a shriek. With great presence of mind, she carefully picked up the box and placed the Storm Bringer back in its gimble before dashing over to see whether Jasper was all right.

‘It’s difficult to resist the urge to push the boundaries of the device,’ he said.

‘You know who made it?’ she asked.

Jasper nodded. ‘Henry Twogood’s grandfather was very gifted.’

Verity blinked. Of course. If it was man-made and linked to the Gentry, then it would be their craftsmanship. ‘Was it confiscated?’ she asked.

Jasper permitted himself a small look of pride. ‘Recovered,’ he said.

Verity looked puzzled.

‘After the death of his daughter, Ruby, your grandfather left instructions for it to be hidden,’ Jasper explained. ‘Out of reach of mankind. But I found it. It wasn’t easy – it took many years of research to discover its likely location in the Indies. But I was convinced it must exist. I have always had something of a … fascination with the former Gentry empire.’

Verity looked at the strange man thoughtfully for a second. He must be extremely clever to have pieced together the scant information that had been left behind and used it to locate the last resting place of this Gentry artefact. What resourcefulness it must have required.

‘You said it could kill us … Is it dangerous?’

Jasper nodded. ‘In the wrong hands, yes.’

‘Don’t you think that if my grandfather was keen for it to be safely hidden away, he must have had good reason?’

Jasper stared blankly at her. ‘Such an ingenious device couldn’t possibly be left to sit at the bottom of the ocean,’ he said eventually.

‘Why not, if that’s the safest place for it?’ Verity asked.

‘But there are so many uses for it,’ said Jasper excitedly. ‘It could change our world in any number of positive ways: as a source of energy, for example. Who knows? And if it’s possible for something so small to create storms, then surely there might also be a device that stills the weather.’

‘You don’t think it would just end up being used to … kill people then?’

‘No,’ said Jasper. ‘I would never allow that.’

‘And you don’t suppose that when you go back to your headquarters and show your commanding officers the Storm Bringer, they might just take it off you?’ Verity continued.

‘No.’ Jasper frowned. ‘It’s my discovery. I should be the one to control it.’

‘There must be a lot of people who’d want to use it but who shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near it,’ said Verity. ‘Even in Wellow.’

Jasper was outraged. ‘Don’t be silly,’ he said firmly. ‘No one is going to take it from me without my authority.’ Picking up the bag, he closed the box, then buckled it tightly shut. He was obviously very annoyed.

Verity swallowed nervously. She hadn’t meant to be so abrupt. It just seemed so obvious …

Time had passed in a flurry of activity for Villainous Usage. He’d been overjoyed when he realized the
Lady Olivia
could definitely be drawn onto the rocks – until he realized that was just the start of his troubles. The tasks seemed endless: recruiting a suitable crew to retrieve the goods, finding an amenable fence to get rid of them. The negotiations and bartering had taken weeks. It was almost like working for a living.

The
Lady Olivia
was smaller than either of the previous two packet ships Mother had wished to plunder, but still … Villainous’ sources had promised a cargo of bullion mixed with lucrative and easily sold goods.

Of late, both mother and son had spent many a happy hour planning how they would live on the proceeds.

‘No more poky cottage,’ Mother had crowed one particularly jovial evening, taking another swig of rum.

‘I’ll be a man of standing,’ Villainous gloated.

She patted his knee heavily. ‘That you will, son. Your pa would be proud.’

‘Do yer think so?’

‘Of course,’ she slurred. ‘An thish is jusht the start,’ she added expansively.

Villainous’ eyes widened. He hadn’t realized there was more to be done.

‘Before we’re finished, son,’ breathed Mother, leaning in closer to focus, ‘the Gentry will live again. But this time’ – she flung out an arm to emphasize her point – ‘the Usages will be their leaders.’ Villainous swallowed nervously. ‘And such as the Gallants will know their place,’ she spat venomously.

‘Just the start,’ he repeated anxiously.

At last the fated night was here and all preparations were in place. Villainous stood in front of their one tiny mirror, ducking and bobbing to get an idea of his appearance through the brown spots that betrayed its age. He ignored his churning stomach. This was his fate; his chance to secure Ma’s respect and restore the family name. He smoothed down the front of the blue shirt he’d pressed specially. Now he put on his father’s old coat. He wanted to look the part.

There was a knock at the door. Villainous clambered down the narrow stairs – each one creaking a different note – and opened it eagerly. A hard-faced woman in clean but well-worn clothes rushed in.

‘I can’t say when he’ll notice,’ she snapped as she lifted her cape to reveal a custom-made canvas bag. ‘He never
seems to let the blessed thing out of his sight. I had the devil’s own job, I can tell you.’

Villainous dropped a bag of coins into her outstretched palm. ‘I’m not paying you any more,’ he said.

The woman scowled. ‘You’d best be quick with it, is what I’m saying,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to lose him as a tenant. He pays regular as clockwork.’

Villainous took the box out of the bag and eagerly extracted its contents. He held the mysterious glass sphere up to eye level. The fire and ice swirled within. Just having it in his hand made him feel more powerful – little wonder, given how many lives it could take. A flicker of doubt darted through his mind. He pushed it aside.

‘It’ll be back by midnight, as we agreed,’ he said.

The woman glowered at him and turned to leave. ‘Midnight at the latest,’ she said irritably.

The Usages walked slowly up towards Soul Bay’s grassy cliff-top, Mother wheezing and coughing with the effort. She was still laughing at the thought of Jasper’s naivety.

‘Did he really think he could bring it back to Wellow safely?’ she cackled.

‘I allus remembered you sayin’ – wherever the Twogoods took it must have been fierce hot on account of how brown they was when they got back.’ Villainous nodded proudly. ‘Soon as I heard Simnel talking of it, I remembered. He seemed proper scared of what was in ’is canvas bag.’

‘You did good, son,’ Mother told him.

They were near the top now. The leader of Villainous’ recruits approached, ready to begin. Villainous drew himself up to his full height and repeated his instructions. The man nodded curtly at each point, then left abruptly for the path that led down to the shore. Villainous felt better. It wasn’t so difficult. The man accepted his authority. He could do this.

Thirty minutes later he stood at the top of Soul Bay cliff, staring dumbstruck at the scene of carnage. On the sea below, the
Lady Olivia
pitched and rolled like a tormented beast. A shrieking, howling wind was blowing directly in to land, building up a giant surge that crashed violently onto the rocks. Even through the storm he could hear the hopeless cries of a crew who knew they were about to die.

The
Lady Olivia
had not carried many passengers, but those unlucky few with a berth were now on deck, having thrown on whatever clothes were to hand. Now, praying for salvation, they clung to anything they could find that might prevent them from being tossed like rag dolls into the raging sea.

The
Lady Olivia
was cruelly close to the shore, but it seemed that nothing could save her. The other wreckers waited with stony faces, their hearts hardened.

The waves poured mercilessly over the deck. Draining back with a fearsome pull, they clawed at a passenger, whose scream seared Villainous’ ears. Mother stood next to
him, gripping the Storm Bringer in her doughy hand. She had immediately become an expert. Its exhilarating power coursed through her veins.

‘Her cargo is ours. Oh, son,’ she exulted, holding the glass sphere jubilantly aloft, ‘you have done us proud with this.’

Villainous looked out to sea. His mind raced as he watched a woman gripping the rail and trying to hold onto her young son. She was blue with cold. Villainous could hear the boy’s sobs – the abject fear in them – and the woman’s last desperate declaration of love for her child. Villainous had done many terrible things, but he’d never actually killed before. He’d hadn’t realized it would be like this. Their cries filled his head.

‘Mother, stop,’ he begged. ‘Please stop it. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want the cargo. We don’t need it.’

Mother stared at him scornfully. The Storm Bringer’s force throbbed within her. ‘Are you soft in the head?’ she snapped. ‘This sorry hulk is just the start for us—’

‘I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,’ a voice shouted across the dark, windswept downs.

Mother looked up in surprise and irritation. Out of the driving rain stepped Jasper Cutgrass. In his neatly ironed uniform and carefully polished buttons, he looked very out of place against the wild landscape.

‘What the hell are you doing here, customs man?’ she snarled contemptuously. She raised the Storm Bringer in her grubby mitt, preparing to unleash its full fury.

Jasper raised a hand. ‘By the power invested in me as a Preventative Man, I order you to cease your activity and return the stolen item immediately.’

Mother laughed at him. ‘Your power?
Your power?
I think I know whose power I’d lay money on. Couldn’t even find anyone to help you, could you? No one willing. That tells you everything you need to know about the lie of the land in Wellow,
customs man
. I’m Gentry, born and bred. And what we say goes in this pl—’

But Jasper was to learn no more about Mother’s perceived position in Wellow society. Instead, her eyes rolled up in her head and her tongue lolled from her mouth as she slid to the ground, cushioned against any significant damage by the heavy layer of fat that protected every bone.

Behind her stood Daniel Twogood. He was holding a large and heavy spade above his head. In his other hand was the Storm Bringer. That would put paid to any hope of an easy life in Wellow, he thought to himself grimly.

As he held the Storm Bringer still, the writhing ocean calmed. The
Lady Olivia
gradually rolled and pitched herself back to an even keel. The skies cleared of clouds. Stars could once more be seen twinkling down on the fortunate passengers, who were picking themselves up in wonder.

‘You idiot,’ Mr Twogood shouted. ‘Are you happy now?’

Jasper stood on the cliff-top in silence: he didn’t know what to say. ‘They shouldn’t have stolen it,’ he protested.

‘That’s your answer, is it?’ Daniel Twogood turned and started to stride back across the downs, Jasper hurrying
after him. ‘Leave the likes of the Usages to decide what happens in the world? You should not have brought that thing back here – let alone think of making more.’

Villainous knelt on the muddy grass, holding his mother’s head in his lap and patting her cheek as she came to. He stared at her anxiously, all traces of cunning and guile wiped from his face; all that remained was the worried look of a child who yearned for approval.

‘It’ll be all right, Muvver,’ he said, heaving her up. ‘We don’t need the cargo. Not at that price.’

Mother dusted down her skirts and looked at him as if only just noticing he was there. Villainous cowered instinctively.

She slapped him across the face with every ounce of force she could muster. ‘You’re no son of mine,’ she bellowed. ‘How could you let them just walk away with our destiny?’

The force of her blow knocked him to the ground. He’d been used to worse in his time. In his head the pleas of those in peril of the sea still rang faintly. He knew now that he could take no part of a fortune snatched from the hands of dying men.

Mother turned away angrily to call off the crew.

In the early hours of the morning Jasper read the same line from his book for the fifteenth time and took another sip of water. He shifted uncomfortably on the bentwood chair and blinked repeatedly. Rubbing his eyes would
only make them worse. He dared not sit on the bed.

Daniel Twogood had left now, but Jasper had nowhere else to go, and no way of leaving Wellow until daybreak. So he kept his vigil; waiting in his clean but bare room for the sun to creep above the horizon. Then he would begin the long journey to the other side of the world.

‘Do you understand why it has to go back?’ Daniel Twogood had asked.

Jasper had nodded. ‘This time it must be hidden where no one can ever recover it,’ he agreed.

Despite himself Mr Twogood’s fingers had lingered admiringly on the polished finish of the sphere. Then he reminded himself of the burden the Storm Bringer had placed on his family.

Jasper got up and walked over the warped floorboards to his tiny window. He pushed it open as far as it would go to let in the cold night air, breathing deeply to refresh himself. Looking down across the street, he saw an unexpected figure striding across the cobbles. He stared in astonishment. What could that person be doing here at this time of night? His disbelief doubled as the figure stopped outside the front door of his lodgings, looked up and then beckoned to him.

The start of the weekend was as beautiful and bright as the previous had been stormy and dark. A new dawn, with possibilities. But unfortunately, for many in Wellow the weather was to be no guarantee of a happy outcome.