The Goblin's Gift (7 page)

‘This is our boy. Me and my wife Eleanor, we're his parents. Isn't that right, Joseph?'

Joseph nodded.

Ben grinned wider and whistled. Geoffrey just stood, silent, staring at them.

‘Well, we can't stick around,' said his father. He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. ‘Got to get going. See you lads tomorrow.' And Joseph was steered away down the street.

They didn't say much as they walked home to the house with the green front door. And all the way his father kept holding onto his hand, as if Joseph might run away at any minute.

‘Pa,' he said at last. ‘What's a mongrel?'

Someone was shaking him. His father, of course.

‘Wake up. Come on, wake up.'

Joseph tried to roll away, but it was difficult because he wasn't in a bed. A hammock, that's where he was.

Suddenly he was awake.

He opened his mouth and a hand clamped over it. In the darkness, he could only just make out the blue
hair on the silhouetted head. Tabitha.

‘Get up, Joseph. We need to talk.'

He swung his feet over the side of the canvas and stepped down as lightly as he could. The lower deck was crammed with hammocks, and all around them was the murmur of snoring, mingling with the creaking of the ship. Newton's ship – the
Wyvern
.

He fumbled for his coat and shoes and pulled them on while Tabitha waited.

‘Bring your cutlass too,' she hissed.

Why in Thalin's name would he need a cutlass? But by then, Tabitha had already picked it up and shoved it into his hands. On tiptoe, she led the way to the steps and climbed until they reached the top deck, underneath the stars.

A cold breeze whipped across the harbour, rattling the rigging of the fleet and chilling Joseph to the bone. The bay was cluttered with ships rocking gently on the waves. It was so peaceful … Hard to imagine that tomorrow these vessels could be in the midst of a battle, smoke billowing, cannons roaring … Beyond the
Wyvern
's stern, Port Fayt slumbered, a few lanterns glowing softly in the night.

Tabitha grabbed him by the arm and pulled him across the deck, down into the shadows behind a cluster of barrels.

‘What's going on?'

‘We've got to get off this ship,' she replied, as if it was obvious. ‘Who else is going to rescue that mermaid?'

Joseph tried to shake off his sleepiness and understand what she was saying.

‘What about Newt?' he said. ‘We're supposed to stay on the
Wyvern
with him.'

Tabitha rolled her eyes.

‘No we're not. Come on. Think about it. He doesn't need us – he's commanding the most powerful warship in Fayt. And what good can we do here? Do you know how to lower an anchor or set a mainsail?'

‘Well—'

‘Exactly. But if we stay here in Fayt we might be able to find the mermaid.'

‘But … I mean, have you asked Newt?'

‘Of course I've asked Newt. It was his idea.' Tabitha's eyes were shining in the darkness. ‘And it's perfect. We're going to be heroes. Don't you see?'

Joseph wasn't sure he wanted to be a hero. But it was true – on board the
Wyvern
, they would only be getting in the way. Here in Port Fayt, they could really make a difference. If they could rescue Pallione …

‘Are you sure Newt's all right with us going?'

‘Of course he is. He's not an idiot. He knows we can do much more good off this ship than on it.'

Joseph thought for a moment. It did make sense. The
Wyvern
would set sail at dawn, with or without them. Of course, if they disembarked, they'd be on their own. They'd have to find the mermaid by themselves, whatever it took. It would be hard – maybe impossible.

But it was worth a try.

‘All right,' he said. ‘I'm in.'

He almost fell over as Tabitha flung her arms around him in a hug. Once he'd got over the surprise, he hugged her back.

‘One other thing,' said Tabitha, moving away again. ‘What I said on the island about … er …'

‘Never mind,' said Joseph quickly.

‘No, I … er … I just wanted to say, I don't really think you're weak. I mean, you're not strong exactly, but you're not weak either.'

Joseph could hardly believe what he was hearing. She was trying to be nice again.
Twice in one day
. And Thalin knew, it didn't come naturally to her.

‘Don't worry about it,' he managed to say.

‘Good.' And suddenly the old Tabitha was back. ‘Let's get going then. Quickly now. There's the gangplank. And remember, keep it quiet.'

‘Shouldn't we say goodbye to Newt first?'

‘Of course not. He's sleeping, isn't he? And he'll need it. He's going into battle, don't forget.'

‘Yes. Sorry. You're right.'

Together they crept across the deck and down the gangplank. Joseph pulled on his sword belt and buckled it up. His limbs buzzed with adrenaline. It looked like he was going to need a cutlass, after all.

At the bottom of the gangplank Tabitha turned and strode along the quayside.

‘Hey,' hissed Joseph. ‘Where are you going?'

‘Got to find a place to stay tonight. Come on!'

‘What about Bootles'? Or Newt's rooms? They're the other way.' He pointed off in the opposite direction. ‘Or why don't we stay on board the
Wyvern
and leave at dawn? Then we could say goodbye to—' He stopped up short, finally understanding. How could he have been so slow? ‘Newt
doesn't
know, does he? This was all your idea.'

Luckily it was dark enough that she wouldn't be able to see him blushing. Did she think he was a complete idiot? All right, she'd had him fooled until now. But not any more. He turned and started to climb the gangplank.

Tabitha caught up, grabbed hold of him and tried to pull him away.

‘Wait!' she whispered.

Joseph struggled. ‘We can't just leave! He won't know where we've gone. At very least we should leave a note so—' His foot slipped off the edge of the plank, and they fell awkwardly. Joseph's heart leaped into his mouth as he saw the dark water looming below. But instead they hit the gangplank, half rolling, half tumbling back down onto the quayside and landing sprawled in a heap on the cobblestones.

‘All right,' said Tabitha. ‘So he doesn't know. What difference does it make? You agreed with me two minutes ago. Who else is going to find that mermaid, remember?'

‘I don't know,' said Joseph. ‘But can you get off me?'

‘No. Not until you say you're coming too.'

‘I … No, I can't.'

‘Fine.' The weight on top of him lifted as Tabitha got to her feet.

‘In that case, I'll go on my own.' And she walked away, without glancing back, without breaking stride.

Joseph watched her, knowing that at any minute the shadows would swallow her and she would be gone. She was heading into Fayt, whether he came with her or not. So should he go too or stay on the ship? He couldn't believe her, putting him in this
position. If he returned to the
Wyvern
, she'd be completely on her own. But why should he have to go with her just because she'd got it into her head to be a hero? She was crazy. Crazy and dangerous. Was this what all girls were like?

What would Thalin the Navigator do?

What would Newt do?

What would my father do?

Footsteps sounded on the deck and a gruff voice called out, ‘Is someone there?'

Joseph froze. Their tumble down the gangplank must have woken some sleeping sentry. He opened his mouth. He looked at the figure of Tabitha, heading down a side street. Just a few more seconds, and she would turn a corner and disappear from view.

He shut his mouth and scampered after her.

You owe me, Tabs.

As he reached the houses he paused and took one last look at the
Wyvern
, a towering black bulk against the starlit sky.

‘Good luck, Newt,' he said quietly. Then he turned and followed Tabitha into Port Fayt.

BY THE TIME
he reaches the village the real work is done. Even the flames have been doused, leaving only smouldering wreckage and ruin.

They came before dawn, moving through the uphill woodland of Illon, dragging light cannon with them. It would have been easier with cavalry, but victory was never in doubt. The soldiers of the League of the Light are an unstoppable force. A righteous fist, crushing all trace of demonspawn in their path.

He holds a scented handkerchief against his nose as he picks his way through the debris scattered on the cobbled streets. There are bodies all around him but he ignores them. They are of no interest. Once dead, these
foul creatures are mere waste to be cleared away. It is the living demonspawn that fascinate him. To get inside the mind of such a creature
…
To understand the darkness that must surely lurk within
…

There are human corpses too among the rubble. A sad loss, but necessary. He has learned that once tainted by living with demonspawn, even the most upstanding human can fall. And these slaughtered fishermen could hardly be called upstanding.

At last he arrives at the square. A tiny area, as befits the village itself. New Dalport, the only settlement on Illon, the easternmost of the Middle Islands. There was scarcely a need to destroy it, but he believes in doing a job thoroughly. And from the bodies, he can tell that his men have been very thorough indeed.

Majors Metcalfe and Garrick have a table set up, with a map spread out on it. The Golden Sun flutters proudly above, the flagpole thrust into the thatching on the roof of the village hall. Their white uniforms are smudged with soot and blood, and they are drinking grog, taken from the tavern on the square no doubt.

He never drinks.

They put down their flagons and come to attention as he approaches.

‘Your grace,' they say, as one.

‘Gentlemen. Congratulations. Where is Major Turnbull?'

Metcalfe frowns. ‘Somewhere in the village, your grace. Finishing the work.'

The Duke nods. Turnbull has always been the most enthusiastic of his officers where the pursuit of demonspawn is concerned.

Over the shoulders of his majors, at the corner of the square, he can see a pair of white-coated marines battering on a locked door with their muskets.

‘How long before we are done here?'

‘An hour, your grace, at most.'

‘Good. I believe the Fayters will come soon. They will not allow us to sail into their harbour.'

‘Let them come,' says Major Metcalfe. ‘We will stand firm against them.'

‘Indeed.' He traces a finger across the map, taking in the Middle Islands. Illon. Eld. Immel. And Arla, of course. The largest, where Port Fayt lies.

The Jewel of the Middle Islands.

In the corner of the square, a crack has appeared in the door. The marines redouble their efforts, slamming it harder and harder with their musket butts.

‘See it through,' he says. ‘And then return to your vessels. We must be at sea by noon. The whole fleet. We
shall show the demonspawn what a force they have to reckon with.'

The door gives way at last and the marines rush inside.

There are screams.