PathFinder (7 page)

Jonas took charge. “Children, enough,” he said in his soft PathFinder lilt. “We shall not think of what might have been, but of what is to be.” He turned to Tod, addressing her by her formal name as the older ones always did. “Alice, you must not remain here. Our home is now your home. Is there anything you need to bring with you?”

Tod nodded. “A box. In my room.”

“Oskar, go up with Alice and help her bring the box,” said Jonas.

Tod was shocked when she saw her room. Its contents had been reduced to little more than matchwood. It reminded her of a wrecked ship she had once seen pounded into smithereens by the surf. She shuddered. Something had got very angry in this room. Oskar was equally dismayed. He guessed that Tod’s box lay smashed on the floor along with everything else.

But Tod seemed unconcerned. She waded through the debris to the window and kicked away a pile of shredded bedclothes mixed with the remains of a chair, exposing the bare floorboards beneath. Tod kneeled down and drew out what looked like a short pencil. She pressed the end of the “pencil” and it flipped out to become a screwdriver. Oskar smiled – it was the present he had given Tod for her twelfth birthday. Tod unscrewed a small section of floorboard, pulled the board up and reached in. She looked up at Oskar, smiling. “Still here,” she said.

It was a small, exquisite box carved from lapis lazuli. It sat neatly on Tod’s open hand, the lapis – dark blue with streaks of gold – glinting in a small beam of sunlight. Each corner of the box was protected by a tiny piece of curved silver and the edges reinforced with strips of battered darkened silver.

“It’s so
beautiful
,” said Oskar.

Tod smiled. “It is, isn’t it? It’s a family treasure. It belonged to … to Dad.” Tod opened the box to show a bright blue felt lining with a moulded hollow in which lay a silver filigree pointer shaped like a long, thin triangle with a delicate arrow-tipped point. It had a hollow lapis dome at the flat end of the triangle, which had a thick curl of silver on its opposite side with a hole in it. Beside it was a tiny padded leather triangle with a small onyx sphere on one of its points. Tod took out the pointer and showed it to Oskar. “It’s called a
PathFinder
.”

“Just like us,” said Oskar.

“Yeah,” said Tod. “Dad gave it to me just before the Circle, because that is when his father gave it to him. He said it had been handed down to the oldest child since the days before we went to the –” Tod stopped, realising she was about to tell Oskar a Circle secret. “Anyway,” she said hurriedly, “it fits together like this …” Tod picked up the onyx sphere and held its leather triangle between her finger and thumb. She placed the hollow dome of the
PathFinder
over the sphere. The filigree pointer pivoted gently, swinging back and forth, and Oskar had the impression that the dome was actually floating on the sphere.

“It’s a compass,” he said. “The most beautiful one I have ever seen.”

“But it’s not a proper compass, is it?” said Tod. “Because there are no compass points.”

Oskar frowned. “I suppose. But it does look like it is showing you the way to somewhere, all the same.”

Tod gave Oskar a lopsided smile. “Wish it would show me the way to Dad,” she said sadly.

Oskar quickly changed the subject. “Hey, look. You’ve got a really cool snake ring, too.”

Tod gently laid the
PathFinder
back in the box and picked up the ring, which was nestling in a corner. It was formed from two thick bands of gold and silver – the snakes – twisted together. The snakes’ heads met in the front of the ring and curled around each other, looking up at the wearer. “It was my mother’s,” said Tod.

“Oh,” said Oskar. He wished he hadn’t pointed out the ring now. Everything reminded Tod of the people she had lost. Oskar hadn’t thought of it before, but he suddenly realised that Tod was an orphan. “Orphan” was such a sad and lonely word, Oskar thought.

Tod was still holding the snake ring. “I’m going to wear it when it fits me,” she said.

“I think it will fit
now
,” Oskar said, hoping to cheer things up a little. “It will go on your thumb.”

“Oh,” said Tod. “I think it will.” She slipped her mother’s ring on to her right thumb and to her surprise, the silver and gold snakes sat snug and tight. It belonged, and Tod felt like she had somehow grown up. “Oskie,” she said, “I’ve made up my mind.”

“About what?” Oskar looked worried.

“Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Stuff … like not waiting around for things to happen. Like making things happen ourselves. Oskie, you and I are going to look for Ferdie. We are going to find her and bring her home.”

A broad smile spread over Oskar’s face. “You bet,” he said.

Plans

Jonas went to check his boat
after the night’s storm, while Tod, Oskar and Jerra set off back to the Sarn house. The storm had left behind a deep blue sky with white scudding clouds and the smell of damp sand. The sun was warm and the air felt fresh and clean. They stood on the beach, watching the wind cut across the dune grasses.

“Jerra,” said Tod, “we are going to find Ferdie.”

Jerra grinned. “Yes, we have a really good chance, I reckon.” Then he stopped and looked puzzled. “But how did you know?”

Oskar knew when his brother was up to something. “Jerra, what’s going on?”

“I think I’ve found out where Ferdie is.”

“Why didn’t you
tell
us?” Oskar asked, incredulous.

“Er … well, it’s a long story,” Jerra mumbled. “I was doing my lobster pots and I fell overboard and – hey, you two, don’t look at me like that!”

Oskar and Tod were staring at Jerra, shocked. It was considered shameful to fall out of one’s boat.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Jerra protested. “I caught hold of the rope as I fell and this Trading Post girl, Annar, she was fishing nearby and she helped me get back in. So we got talking. And I told her about Ferdie –”

Oskar was cross. “You told a Trading Post
stranger
about our sister?”

“No one at sea is a stranger, Oskie. Anyway, why not? I want to find Ferdie as much as you do, you know.”

“What did the girl – Annar – tell you?” asked Tod.

“She said that a ship called the
Tristan
is moored up the creek at the OutPost – you know, just along from the Trading Post. People say that it has weird, white creatures on board that only come out at night.”

“Garmin!” Oskar and Tod said together.

Jerra carried on. “Annar says there have been rumours for some time that there are prisoners on the ship. A few weeks ago Annar’s sister went missing and Annar sailed to the
Tristan
to see if she was there.”

“Was she?” asked Tod.

Jerra shook his head. “No. But, this is the thing …” His voice dropped to a whisper. “One of the crew told Annar that the only girl on board was a red-headed PathFinder, a prisoner who had arrived about a month ago.”

“Ferdie!” gasped Tod. “It
must
be.”

“Yes,” said Jerra. “That’s what I think too.”

Tod was suspicious. She remembered what Dan had told them at the Circle. “Jerra, can you really believe what someone from the OutPost says?” she asked.

“I believe Annar,” Jerra said. “And Tod, we who fish for a living are different. At sea we are all brothers and sisters. It does not matter where we come from.”

Tod remembered Dan saying something similar. And as they turned off along the track that led to the Sarn house, she said, “We have to go and find that ship. We
have
to see if Ferdie is on there.”

Jerra looked a little sheepish. “Actually, it’s all fixed up. I’ve already arranged to meet Annar at Goat Rock – it’s an island near the OutPost. Annar is going to pilot me through the sandbanks.”

“And Oskar and me,” said Tod. “We’re coming too.”

Jerra smiled. “I was hoping you might say that. Actually, I was going to ask you both. The thing is, Annar can’t go back on the ship; they’ll recognise her. They have kids working there, and to older people all kids look the same. So all you need is to look like you belong and they won’t give you a second glance.”

“How do we look like we belong?” asked Oskar.

“Leave that to Annar,” Jerra replied mysteriously.

The track rounded a dune and the Sarn house came into view. In the window Oskar saw Rosie Sarn looking out anxiously. “Ma’s not going to like us going,” he said.

“We’ll tell her about Ferdie first,” Jerra said. “Let me do it, OK?”

Rosie Sarn was overcome with joy at the thought that Ferdie might be found, but her happiness did not last long. When she heard that two more of her children were putting themselves in danger, Rosie put her foot down. “Jerra, Oskar, Tod –
no
. I am not losing you as well. Jonas will go.”

It seemed to Oskar that his brother had grown up overnight. “No, Mum,” Jerra said. “It’s not for Dad to do. Oskie and Tod are coming. That is how it has to be.”

Jonas reached out and took his wife’s hand. “We must trust Jerra, dear.” Rosie sighed. She knew she had lost.

At supper, Jerra outlined his plans. Jonas was worried. “That’s all very well, Jerra,” he said, “but you know how they are at the OutPost. They throw PathFinders into prison, no questions asked. Rosie’s uncle was in one of their prisons for years. He was a wreck when he eventually got out.”

“But why, Dad?” asked Oskar.

Jonas sighed. “It goes back a long way, Oskie. You’ll hear about it next summer when you go to the Circle.” Jonas fell silent. He suddenly remembered that Dan Moon was no longer there to lead the Circle. “You must take night gloves and cloaks, and always wear your hood up. You must not forget that we Sarns, Moons and Starrs have a sheen to our skin and hair that is easy to recognise.”

“I’ll be OK,” said Tod. “I have my mother’s complexion.”

“True,” said Rosie. “But you must still be careful, Tod.”

“Anyway,” said Jerra. “We’ll be on our way home by nightfall. With Ferdie.”

This was too much for Rosie Sarn. She buried her head in her hands. “Oh, Ferdie,” she whispered. “My poor, poor Ferdie.”

Memories

Later that night as Tod
tried to sleep, lying in Ferdie’s bed, she remembered the first time she had seen the Dragon Boat. Her mother had still been alive then, although now Tod understood that she was already very ill. Tod couldn’t sleep then, either. She loved to hear the happy sound of her parents’ quiet conversation downstairs – even though it was punctuated by her mother’s long bouts of coughing, which had worried her. Tod hadn’t wanted to disturb them, so she had got out of bed, padded across to the attic window, stood up on her window seat and looked out. It was a beautiful starry sky, with a full moon riding high, and Tod had gazed at it for what felt like hours. She was beginning to get cold and was about to go back to bed when she saw what at first she had thought was a huge bird. And then she had realised that she was looking at a dragon. To her joy, the dragon swooped down and flew gracefully over the house. To her amazement Tod saw that the dragon was also a boat with a beautiful golden hull. At the tiller was a boy – a big boy even older than Jerra was then. He wore green robes with purple ribbons glinting on his sleeves, and she knew at once that he was
Magykal
. Tod had been entranced.

Tod’s mother, Cassi TodHunter Draa, was from a
Magykal
family in the Hot Dry Deserts of the South. Her mother used to tell stories about how she had grown up in a big, round tent under the stars, and how the Draa family were the most powerful Wizards in the land. Tod had longed to be
Magykal
; she had decided that if only she could have purple ribbons like the boy with the dragon, then she would be. She had pestered her mother and father for purple ribbons, and when they gave her some for her seventh birthday, Tod was ecstatic. And when Ferdie’s seventh birthday came around a few months later, Tod gave her one of her precious purple ribbons. Ferdie had been thrilled, and they had played
Magyk
games in the dunes all that summer.

Tod held up her arm and looked sadly at the thin, faded purple ribbon she still wore around her wrist – just as Ferdie did. Drowsy with dragons and purple ribbons, Tod fell into a deep sleep. Six hours later Oskar was shaking her awake.

“Time to go, Tod,” he said. “Time to go and get Ferdie.”