The Seventh Tide (14 page)

Two figures stumbled along the rough coastline, scratched by gorse, tripped up by heather roots and hidden rabbit holes. Were they lost? No more than most of the other English soldiers combing the west coast of Scotland for the rebel prince. Were they deserters? Not necessarily. By chance or by choice, it was easy to become separated from your regiment when the mists came down or the thick woods hid one red jacket from the next. Were they bounty hunters? Of course. Since the collapse of the Glorious Rebellion, Bonnie Prince Charlie was the prize every foot soldier dreamed about – but short of that, any Scot would do.

Dead or alive.

At the end of this particular day, the two men made themselves a camp in the lee of some rocks by the shore. The dark night pressed in around them as they dozed, waking from time to time to feed the fire. The hours passed. There were no stars to be seen, and the
moon appeared and disappeared behind flying clouds.

‘Smells like rain,’ grunted one, as he tried to get more comfortable.

‘It always smells like rain,’ grumbled the other. ‘God’s Teeth, I hate this place.’

That was when they heard the noise from the beach. The two men were instantly on their feet. They reached for their muskets and, peering intently into the blackness, began to load.

They crept away from the fire. As they came closer to the pebbly beach, the noise separated out into voices, complaining bitterly, and the sound of someone being sick. Whoever the newcomers were, they were making no attempt to be stealthy. It was hard for the soldiers not to make a lot of noise themselves on the pebbles of the shore, but their prey wasn’t paying attention, and the rain had also arrived, helping to mask the sound of their approach.

‘Oh, that’s
all
we needed – that’s
perfect!.
First we go on the world’s worst excuse for a holo-ride and then we get dumped out in the dark in some smelly mud and
then –
it rains! But of course – what was I thinking? It
always
rains on amazing adventures. So why can’t we have an adventure indoors? At least it doesn’t
rain
indoors…’ The voice was young and shrill, like a girl’s.
And
I landed awkwardly and it feels like at least two pockets’ worth of stuff is broken already!’ she wailed.

‘Oh, shut up,’ said another voice. ‘You were the one who insisted on coming! Anyway, it’s worse for Adom – at least the Traveller doesn’t make you sick every time.’

‘He wasn’t sick last time,’ grumbled the girl.

‘Yes, I was,’ said a third voice. ‘Your machine, um, dealt with it.’

‘I suggest heading for some dry land!’ Yet another voice, chirpy and odd. ‘Off we go!’

The soldiers crouched down behind some rocks, judging the progress of their quarry by the sounds of squelching, stumbling and complaining.

‘See? What did I tell you? The torch is broken.’

‘Are you sure you saw a fire?
I
don’t see a fire.’

‘Yes, I’m sure – it was up there under the trees. You can’t see it from here because the rocks are in the way’.

‘I’m
soaked
!’

‘Let’s try not to scare them, whoever they are. We want to be making friends here, remember.’

‘Now
!’ hissed one of the soldiers.

Just as they leapt out, the clouds parted and the shore was lit up in the harsh glare of the moon. It glinted on musket barrels as the two men yelled, ‘In the name of the King!’

Three white faces swung round in astonishment and someone screamed. Then everything was happening too fast – the muskets swung wildly and at the same time something detached itself from one of the children and leapt through the air, shrieking like a fiend from hell. The soldiers reeled back, yelling, and the muskets flowered into a roar and a flash, once, twice. The first shot whined and sent up a stinging spurt of sand; the second made a thud. The devil became an army of sharp-toothed demons attacking the soldiers, biting and screeching and inflicting sudden excruciating pain on
legs, ears, hands. In fear for their souls as well as their lives, the men dropped everything and crashed away into the night, the devil on their tails.

At first there was nothing. Then Eo shifted, just a fraction, and the pain took him over. It grabbed him in its mouth and shook him savagely, back and forth, again and again, so that he couldn’t find room to breathe, and then couldn’t remember
how
to breathe. And then stopped breathing completely. The pain kept on at him, battering, savaging, but gradually it didn’t seem to matter any more.
Breathing
, he thought,
that’s the key. That’s what does it. If you don’t breathe, it can’t hurt you.
Eo felt mildly pleased with himself for working that out, and then that feeling ebbed away as well and there was only…

Adom could see Jay on her knees, whimpering, and Eo seemed to have fallen over in the excitement.

‘Jay?’ Adom said. Are you all right?’

He sounded strange to himself and there were afterlights blurring in his eyes that made it hard to see. He’d never been so close to a lightning strike before, though he’d heard stories.

Are you injured?’ He started to stumble towards her.

‘No… What?… I need some light.’
Her
voice sounded strange too. ‘My torch is broken. Get me a stick from their fire – a burning stick. So I can see…’

Adom was pretty sure the blurry light thing would pass off soon, but he didn’t fancy an argument with her just then. He went to do as he was told.

∗

Jay’s mind was racing.

She’d heard the thud as the musket ball hit Eo in the chest and the tiny gasp of surprise he made as he was flung on to his back. There was a Medi-kit in one of her pockets, as long as it wasn’t broken too, and there was medical information in her implant – but she was too shocked to think how to make use of either.

Exit wound. Exit wound.
Where had she learned about exit wounds? she wondered wildly. Must have been some old movie.
I know it’s important…

The last thing she wanted in the world was to touch him, but she did it anyway. As gently as she could, she levered him on to his side – but it was too dark to see anything properly with the moon half-hidden in cloud again, and his clothes were all soaked with seawater anyway, so how could she tell if there was something else staining his shirt, if there was blood?

I need light.

Where was Adom? And where was the wretched weasel when she needed him? He was the closest thing they had to an adult in this crazy outfit, but he seemed to have completely disappeared into the darkness. Gone mad, like everything else.

She heard Adom coming back with a sort of torch. He squatted down, looking into Eo’s face.

‘Not
that
side! Hold the light
here
, so I can
see
,’ she said, sounding brusquer than she meant.

‘Oh, Jay’ he said. His voice was hushed and hoarse, but he moved over to where she wanted him. ‘Did the lightning…?’

‘What? What are you talking about?’ Then she realized that of course he had no idea about guns. In his time
they just hacked at each other with spears and axes and things. He was hardly going to be much help.

But at least he’d brought her some light. It flickered and spat and cast shadows, but it did the job.

If exit wounds were important to have, Eo was all set. The hole in his back was clear to see.

Adom held the torch closer. ‘What are you looking for?’ he whispered.

‘The bullet – the thing that hit him – we have to make sure all of it came out OK, because if bits stay in his body it’ll make him ill… There it is…’

She dug a metal ball out of the coarse sand. It was coated in blood. She looked at it stupidly, unable to think what to do with it now, unable to do anything else.

‘But how could such a little thing have killed him?’

How to explain
? ‘It’s not the bullet just by itself that does it – it’s the force it’s shot at, out of the…’ She’d only just heard what he said. ‘Killed? Who’s killed?’

‘Eo. He’s dead.’

‘Dead? What do you mean?’ She seemed incapable of understanding what he was saying.

Adom pushed her gently aside and laid Eo on his back again. ‘I mean he’s not breathing any more, and his soul has left his body. Look at his face. See? He’s not there.’

There was a rustle from the darkness, and Hurple stepped slowly into the light from Adom’s torch. There were red stains round his muzzle and his sides heaved in and out. He looked at Eo and screamed.

It was like the cry of a banshee and the sound grated across their nerves.

‘Stop it
!’ whimpered Jay.

With a huge effort, Hurple pulled himself together.

‘This is bad,’ he panted. ‘It’s very, very bad. But not as bad… as you think… the boy’s dead… but only here… and only now…’

He turned his back on them, fighting to regain control. Adom and Jay looked at each other in confusion, too stunned to even begin to reach towards hope. At last the ferret was able to continue.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost it like that. For a minute there I forgot where we were – what we are in the midst of. It’s not as bad as it looks. I know this is strange, but then it’s
all
strange, isn’t it? The Rules hold, however. Whatever happens is only good for one Tide. Eo is dead, but only for the duration of this Tide. The next Tide is a clean slate.’

There was a short, incredulous pause.

‘You’re trying to tell us he’s going to come back to life?!’ shrilled Jay. ‘You’re trying to tell us he’s dead but
he’s going to get better?!
’

‘That’s the Rules.’

‘But… I found
this!’ Jay
held out her hand, with the bloodstained ball on it. ‘I was looking for exit woun–’ She choked up completely then and, dropping the ball, stumbled blindly away up the beach.

Hurple nudged the thing with his nose and shuddered. ‘So this is what the Tide has given him. Pick it up, will you,’ he said to Adom, ‘and put it safe in his bag.’ He drew a deep breath that sounded very like a sob.

‘Unless… it’s death he was given,’ said Adom in a low voice as he stowed the bullet in Eo’s bag. ‘They gave him
that –
and freely.’

Hurple shook his head. ‘No, because he won’t be
taking it with him when we move on. He’ll be leaving that behind.’ He looked up at the boy. ‘You’ll have to trust me on this, even though it’s not very
likely.
’

Adom stared numbly at him. ‘Didn’t he say before that he could heal himself? Except for those sores on his arm – that normally his people could
do
that?’

Hurple shook his head. ‘Not when they die. It doesn’t work like that. He can’t heal if he’s not
consciously
doing it.’ He took a deep breath and tried to speak reassuringly. ‘Come on, lad – you believe in the resurrection, don’t you? That’s all that’s happening here. It’s just a question of timing.’

‘Then why did you attack those men and chase them halfway to Loch Ness?’

Hurple bristled along the whole length of himself.

‘
Nobody
shoots at
my
boy,’ he said, showing his teeth.

‘Do you think they’ll come back?’ asked Adom.

‘They wouldn’t dare,’ Hurple said flatly.

Adom nodded. It didn’t even occur to him to find this statement absurd. The bigness of the Professor’s personality quickly blinded everyone around him to the smallness of his body.

‘Would you like me to pray for him now?’

Hurple cleared his throat, a little ferrety cough of emotion. ‘Thank you. You’re a good lad. I’ll go and see to Jay meantime.’

After praying for a while, Adom got off his knees and went up towards the tree line, where the soldiers’ fire was. It had almost burned itself out, but he salvaged the branches that were still glowing and bought them back to where Eo lay. Then he returned and collected the men’s gathered wood. He built up a fire near the boy’s
body. All the time he was working, he was aware of Hurple’s voice, rising and falling in counterpoint to Jay’s tearful protests and disbelief. He didn’t know just what finally made it through her distress, but something the ferret was saying to her did.

‘You must be getting cold – come to the fire,’ he called.

Hurple came first, and Jay followed reluctantly. She was rubbing angrily at her face, as if ashamed of her swollen eyes and blotchy cheeks. She reminded him suddenly of one of his sisters, who always hated it if anyone saw her cry. He was hit with a completely unexpected stab of homesickness so strong it made him gasp.

‘What are you staring at?!’Jay snapped. She plonked herself down as close to the fire as she could get without setting herself alight, and hugged herself hard. ‘This is a
lousy
adventure. In fact it isn’t an adventure at all – it’s a disaster! It’s a fiasco! It’s a… mess!’

Adom began to fiddle with his wrist computer. A calamity. A catastrophe. A bad patch,’ he murmured. ‘The Slough of Despond…’

‘So you’ve found the thesaurus mode. Big deal. It doesn’t mean you’re all of a sudden smart.’ The girl glared at him.

‘Now, children!’ said Hurple in a warning voice. ‘Don’t squabble.’

Jay turned on him. And you’re not all of a sudden my mother!’ she snapped.

‘How true,’ the ferret murmured sympathetically. ‘But never mind.’

Jay caught Adom’s eye and couldn’t help bursting out laughing. It was a nervous reaction to all the tension,
and the idea of the Professor as
anybody’s
mother was just so ludicrous…

‘Look, I’m sorry I said you were stupid, Adom. You’re not – you’re a better class than me altogether, and I guess I’m just jealous.’

‘But I
am
stupid – Brother Drostlin tells me that ten times a day. Even the Holy Father thinks so. I can’t… read or write and I have been trying for
months
.’ His voice sank low.

‘Well, of course not,’ said Jay. ‘No D’s going to be able to lay down the connections in
that
length of time, not by themselves, no matter what system you use. What system
does
your teacher use, by the way?’

‘Shout and hit?’ said Adom with a shrug.

Jay stared at him for a moment. Then, ‘Give me your arm,’ she said.