The Frost Child (24 page)

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"The rose. You mind when Rosie seen the red scar on Silkie's cheek? She said something about a rose?"

"Yes. The rose is Johnston's symbol."

"I know that. But Rosie shouldn't know it. Rosie never met Johnston. At least as far as we know," Wesley said grimly.

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Chapter 24

Owen sailed the
Wayfarer
into the reeds at the side of the river, with Higgins' fast smuggling craft in tow. Higgins had fresh ham and bread and fruit in the surprisingly sizable cargo area of the boat. They sat on deck in the light of the setting sun while the reeds rustled around them and the river whispered past. As they ate, Higgins told them stories of smuggling and piracy that were thrilling and terrifying in equal measure. Owen found Silkie edging closer to him as Higgins described a desperate pursuit by creatures he referred to as the wraiths of Neb.

When he had finished his stories (which may or may not have been true, Owen thought) he told them that the river they were on was in fact the way back into time.

"You're not too far," he said. "The river kind of... well, it falls off the edge of the world, if you like.

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Put your sail up just before the end and off you go. Port Merforian only has one way in and out, for obvious reasons."

"I need to ask something," Owen said.

"Fire away, son."

"Is it just because we're against the Harsh that you're helping us?"

Silkie looked at him reproachfully, as if he had insulted Higgins, but Higgins laughed and shook his head.

"Nay, lass," he said. "I'm hard to offend, and it's a fair question. The answer is that, as I said, I knew your grandfather, and he did me a turn once, so I'm bound to help you."

"That's right, you said you knew him," Owen said excitedly.

"He was in Port Merforian for a few years."

"Captain Yarsk said he was a pirate," Silkie said.

"Well, I suppose he was. But the reason he was a pirate was that the Harsh were buying and stealing all the magno. He had to do something to get more--Hadima was dependent on it. If he could have bought it, he would."

"What was he like?" Owen leaned forward.

"Your grandfather?" Higgins chuckled. "He was a rogue, I suppose, but good-hearted and clever. He could never stay in one place very long. Couldn't sit still."

"Did he have Owen's dad with him?" Silkie asked suddenly. Like all of the Raggies, she was very curious about families.

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"Not that time, no," Higgins said, "but a few years later he came through again. He had Owen's father with him then. He must have been about eight years old. He only stayed a few days, though. He was in a hurry."

"Why?"

"He never said. He was looking for an old book."

"What sort of book?" Owen asked eagerly.

"A child's storybook," Higgins said, with a glance at Owen. "I know, it is a strange thing. He didn't find it anyway."

A children's storybook? Owen and Silkie looked at each other. What could something like that have to do with the Navigator?

"Where did he go then?" Owen asked.

"He said he had to see the Long Woman."

"The Long Woman! That's where we're going," Silkie said.

"Are you indeed?" Higgins said.

"I have my grandfather's maps," Owen said.

"You may have his maps," Higgins said, "but do you have his mind? You have learned to sail across time. But to find the Long Woman you have to sail
through
time. And that is a different thing entirely."

"You found her before, Owen, didn't you?" Silkie said. "When the Harsh turned time backwards."

"That was different," Owen said, remembering back to when he and Pieta had been lost in the snow. "That time,
she
found
us."

Owen showed Higgins the Mortmain and the maps.

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"The Mortmain!" the small man cried. "The great compass of time! I haven't heard it spoken about for many years. And these maps ... your grandfather was a genius, as well as being a rogue, of course. The maps are a great help, but to sail through time ... that comes from
here."
He thumped his chest.

"Now," Higgins said, "it's getting dark, and time for me to go back to town. If I were you, I would stay here overnight and set off early in the morning. I'll make sure that there is no loose talk about you in the town."

Higgins shook Owen's hand. He turned to Silkie.

"If you ever think of coming back here, youngster, you'll make a great pirate with your spirit and that scar of yours."

Owen could tell that Higgins hadn't meant to be unkind, but Silkie reddened and her hand went to her face.

"Goodness," Higgins said, "sorry! I only meant to say that ... I mean, I didn't ..." Higgins looked so confused and unhappy that Silkie could do nothing except throw her arms around him.

When she let go, Higgins turned away and blew his nose on a large handkerchief embroidered with fierce-looking pirates. Then with a wave of his hand he climbed over the rail and into his boat. The powerful engines started with a roar, and he eased her away from the
Wayfarer
.

"I nearly forgot!" he shouted. He threw something

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into the air. Owen looked up and could see the gold Navigator coin, cleaned and polished, turning and sparkling in the setting sun. He reached up and caught it. With a grin, Higgins gunned the engines. In a cloud of spray he shot off down the river and within moments was a speck in the distance.

Owen did not sleep well that night. His dreams were full of the northern lights and great crackling sheets of many-colored lightning. One moment he was looking up at the sky, which seemed to wheel around him; the next he was looking down into what appeared to be an abyss. When Silkie got up at dawn and came sleepily onto deck, Owen was already there with the maps and the Mortmain. After a quick breakfast, they steered the
Wayfarer
out into the current, which carried them swiftly downstream.

In three or four minutes they could see spray in front of them, like the spray from a great waterfall. As they got closer there was a roaring noise.

"Ready at the sail, Silkie!" Owen crouched at the tiller. It was hard to see through the spray to work out where the river ended. There were rocks as well, black and jagged, and it took all of his attention to prevent the
Wayfarer
from being holed. But finally the spray parted and in front of them the mighty river fell away.

"Now, Silkie!" he shouted as the current caught the
Wayfarer
and spun her around. Silkie worked frantically at the sails. Just when it seemed that they would be carried over the edge, the sails filled and the
Wayfarer
soared

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high in the air. Owen looked down at the turmoil of water where it disappeared into the void of time. Would he ever see Port Merforian again? He tore his eyes away and turned to the tiller. They had to find the Long Woman, and find her soon.

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Chapter 25

For two days they sailed across time. Owen had aligned the symbols for Port Merforian and the Long Woman on the Mortmain, but they didn't seem to close on each other. Studying the maps, he realized that the Long Woman symbol was enclosed within a fish shape on the map, drawn in green ink. At night when he fell asleep exhausted, his dreams were of the Long Woman's haughty, scarred face--a face that seemed to be laughing at him. During the day he ran through everything he knew about the Long Woman, wondering if there was a clue to her whereabouts: the underground kingdom, the dogs and sleigh that she kept. He remembered how her table had been set for strange guests, and that the food had been things of slime and mold. When he told Silkie about this she wrinkled her nose.

"You mean we're trying to find the Long Woman, not run away from her?"

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Silkie meanwhile kept to herself. But Owen saw the pride she took in working on the
Wayfarer
. With Higgins' help she had repaired the keel. Now she set about polishing brass and touching up paintwork. Owen could feel the difference in the way the boat sailed, how taut she was, and how she responded to the tiller.

He was at the tiller on the third day, sailing under sky of shimmering green and bronze, when it came to him-- the
Wayfarer
would show him how to get to the Long Woman, if only he could find a way to pose the question to the little boat. He asked Silkie to take the tiller and went down below. He opened all the cupboards and went through them. There were lots of old clothes and tools, but nothing that would help to find the Long Woman. Just as he had decided to go up onto the deck again, the
Wayfarer
gave a lurch that sent him sprawling onto the deck. Afterward Silkie swore that the sea had been calm and that she'd done nothing to cause the boat to move in the way that it did.

Owen felt his head where it had cracked against the table leg. He was about to get to his feet when he saw something gleam in the darkness under the bulwark. He reached out and touched a brass switch. He pressed it, and a long narrow drawer sprang open. Owen reached into the drawer and took out a polished wooden box the same shape as the drawer. He put it carefully on the table and opened it.

Inside, on a bed of black velvet, lay a slender, silver horn, delicately chased with gleaming scales, like those of

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a fish. Owen lifted it up. It felt impossibly light and delicate. Gently he carried it out onto the deck.

"What is it?" Silkie stared at the horn.

"I'm not sure."

"It's beautiful. Are you going to blow it?"

"I suppose," he said, "though I can't see how music is going to help us."

"Go on," Silkie said. "I'd like to hear it."

He put the horn to his lips and blew, expecting it to sound something like a trumpet, but instead it emitted a long, mournful cry.

"What
is
that sound?"

Owen raised the horn and blew again.

"That was the sound the schooner made," he said.

"The schooner?"

"It's a kind of a fish that swims in time. I wonder why the horn was hidden away like that. Can't be that big a deal to sound like a schooner." He blew the horn again, then returned it to the velvet-lined box. He was about to bring it below again when there was a loud gurgling, boiling noise beside the boat.

"Look!" Silkie said in delight. A face had appeared--a face with black markings around the eyes that looked like glasses, long supple lips, and elegant whiskers.

"A schooner!" Silkie's eyes shone. "The horn must have called it."

She leaned over the rail.

"Can you help us find the Long Woman?"

"I don't think it can understand us," Owen said. But,

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with a swish of its tail, the schooner dived under the
Wayfarer
and reappeared in front of the bow.

"Hold on a second," Owen said, grabbing the maps. He looked at the fish shape surrounding the Long Woman's symbol. It had the same distinctive double fin on the back.

"The fish on the map is a schooner!"

"Is it going to lead us there?" Silkie asked.

"Looks like it," Owen said. But it did not lead them. As Owen reached for the tiller to follow the great fish, the schooner leapt high in the air and, diving straight down under the surface, disappeared.

Owen and Silkie scanned the sea of time in every direction, but there was no sign of it.

"I really thought the schooner was going to show us the way," Silkie sighed.

"Me too," Owen admitted. He sat down on the hatch, feeling completely deflated.

"Wait. What's that behind us?" Silkie said. Owen jumped to his feet in alarm. There was something coming up fast behind them--a shape that was throwing up great sheets of spray to either side.

"I don't know," Owen said, his eyes wary, "but it's going to catch us pretty quick."

They stood at the stern, watching the shape approach. Owen felt Silkie's hand take his, and he squeezed it in reassurance. Then her eyes widened.

"Look, Owen," she gasped, "it's the schooner!" But not the schooner as they had seen it. The beast had its

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259

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mouth wide open and in the massive cavity behind it, there was no tongue or teeth or anything you might expect in a mouth. Instead there was what looked like a night sky, a sky that glittered with a thousand stars. And just as it was about to catch the
Wayfarer
, there was a great whooshing noise, and what Owen could only think of as a silver wind came from the creature's cavernous mouth.

"It's blowing us along," Silkie whispered in awe. It was true. The schooner's breath filled the
Wayfarer's
sails. As if a giant hand had picked them up, the
Wayfarer
was thrust forward with incredible force. Everything around them turned to a blur and there was a roaring in their ears. Silkie clung to Owen, and he thought he could feel her heartbeat through the chain-mail shirt.

"I'm frightened, Owen," Silkie said, "Take the sail down--we don't know where we're going!"

"No," Owen said, "we're safe." He could not say how, but he knew where they were going. In his mind's eye he could see the path they were following through time.

He didn't know how long the schooner's breath carried them. They barely noticed that the noise had stopped, that the world was no longer streaming past. Silkie clung tightly. Owen realized that he had his eyes closed. When he opened them the
Wayfarer
was motionless. Her sails hung limp. They were floating on a dark still pool of time. Everything around them was in darkness. When he looked down the two symbols on