Renegade (8 page)

I
t was a long night of short tempers. Alice seemed flustered and impatient. Marin never stopped tending to Nyla, Rose, and Dennis. Jerren couldn't bring himself to leave his sister's side. Griffin was grieving too. It left us with only a skeleton crew on deck, so we kept our shift patterns brief. It was a good idea in theory, but I found it hard to go to sleep and even harder to wake.

My father and Ananias and I were in charge as the tepid light of sunrise broke through clouds to the east. Alice emerged a few moments later, carrying a breakfast of nuts and dried fruit. She didn't look as if she'd slept at all. Dark circles hung from her eyes.

“You need to rest,” I told her.

“I can't. There's too much to do.” She placed the tray of food beside us and slid a map from underneath. She studied the barrier island that ran parallel to us, engaging her element, telescoping the land so that she could work out our exact location. Then she ran a finger across the map.

“We'll probably reach the Oregon Inlet in one or two strikes,” she said, referring to the narrow channel that joined the Pamlico Sound to the ocean. Roanoke Island sat in the middle of the sound, just a few miles north of the inlet. We were getting close.

No one responded. Father and Ananias just stared into the distance, as if they too could see what lay ahead, and feared every part of it.

• • •

“We'll have to wait for the tide to turn,” Tarn announced one strike later as we approached the Oregon Inlet. But what she really meant was that Marin and Rose weren't around to use their water element to push us against the falling tide. Neither was Dennis, with his element of wind.

We sailed past the mouth of the inlet and turned the ship around in a slow circle so that we'd be in position to move as soon as the tide turned. There was a clear edge to the turbulent water. We drew in the sails, and lowered anchor just shy of it.

A half mile ahead of us, the inlet stretched forward invitingly. The whitecaps were no more than one foot high, but they were laced together, overlapping as the water fought to escape the sound. I hadn't passed through the inlet very often, but the unpredictable currents were legendary.

“Is this where John White's crew drowned all those centuries ago?” Alice asked, breaking the silence.

The question came out of nowhere. I hadn't thought about John White's expedition since we'd left Fort Sumter two days earlier. The Guardians had told us about White's Roanoke Island settlement, but they hadn't mentioned that his crew had drowned.

“What are you talking about?” demanded Ananias.

“It's just a story I heard,” said Alice, eyes fixed on her mother. “About the Oregon Inlet, and seven drowned sailors. Except, I don't think it's a story at all.”

Tarn took a swig from a water canister and recapped it carefully. “A story you
heard,
” she repeated.

“Exactly.”

A personal war of words was playing out here, only I didn't understand the meaning. And then it hit me: Alice hadn't
heard
the story at all. She must have
read
it. And the only source for new stories about John White was the missing third journal.

I wanted to ask Alice right then if
she
had taken the journal from Rose's cabin, but why bother when the answer was clear? The more important question was
why
she had done it, and why she'd hidden the truth from me.

Tarn held her daughter's gaze for a few moments. Then, instead of answering Alice's question about John White, she sloped over to the wheel and took it from Ananias.

Alice wasn't going to let her out of the conversation so easily. “Tell us what happened to White's expedition,
Guardian Tarn
.”

Although they were ten yards apart, my father stepped between them as if he were trying to avert a fight. “John White,” he murmured, playing for time.

“Yes, Ordyn. John White,” said Alice. “Let me refresh your memory. He led an expedition that established a settlement on Roanoke Island in 1587. The colony was in trouble, so he returned to England for extra resources. He got held up there for years. While he was gone, some of the colony's children developed the ability to control the elements. The shock of it divided the colony. Most people left instead of coexisting with the children. When White finally returned, he sent a small crew to Roanoke Island to look for the colonists. But the men never made it through the Oregon Inlet.” She tilted her head. “Sound familiar?”

It sounded familiar, all right, and not just to my father. But nowhere in the Guardians' account had there been any mention of drowned crewmen.

Father looked at Tarn, but she had her back to him. He cleared his throat. “White wanted to reconnect with the colony. But as he got nearer, the weather turned suddenly—strong winds and rain. He probably thought it was bad luck, but luck had nothing to do with it. It was the young elementals. They'd seen his ship approaching, and were warning him to stay away.

“He should've given up, or waited, but White was impatient. He'd waited years to get back. So he sent an exploratory crew through the Oregon Inlet. The elementals conjured ferocious currents and powerful gusts. When the crew still pressed onward, the elementals panicked. The children probably didn't mean to hurt anyone, but they didn't have complete control of their elements yet. It only took one wave to capsize the boat.” Father exhaled slowly. “Either the sailors couldn't swim, or they weren't strong enough to overcome the conditions. Seven men drowned.”

I stared at the inlet and pictured the scene. It wasn't hard to imagine how it would have happened. “Why didn't the children rescue them?” I asked. “Whoever had the element of water could've swum out.”

“Depends how close they were. No one knows where the children were at the time. Anyway, if they'd done that, the sailors would've discovered the truth: That the children wielded impossible power.”

“Who cares?”

“Everyone cares, Thomas.” This from Tarn. She spoke softly, measuring each word. “Ever since the beginning, ours has been a story of incompatible groups. Elementals and non-elementals don't coexist equally. They never have, and never will.”

“It's true,” agreed Father. “Even White recognized it. The next day he saw smoke rising above Roanoke, and tried to get there again. This time the elementals didn't stop him. He found them, and discovered what they could do. He was so amazed that he sketched the children. Even made notes about them. Maybe he didn't realize they were responsible for the drowned crewmen, but he knew what would happen if anyone else saw the children: They'd be burned to death as witches. That's why he lied to everyone . . . told them he hadn't found a soul on Roanoke Island.”

Tarn turned to Alice, one arm loosely draped across the wheel. “So now you know. Unless . . . there's more.” She made it sound like a question.

Alice smiled, but didn't answer. “We should ready the sails,” she said. “Looks to me like the tide is slowing. It'll turn soon.”

She was right about that, so whatever battle of wills was playing out was momentarily put on hold. All the same, I stole a glance at Alice as I joined Ananias in turning the sail winches. Nothing she'd heard seemed to have surprised her at all. She'd known the story already, and she hadn't shared it with me. I could have forgiven her for that. But the only way she could have known the story was if she had taken the journal. Which meant that she was responsible for preventing Griffin from reading it. That was too much.

The ship kicked as the sails filled. Waves crashed against the prow. Tarn gripped the wheel tightly with both hands, struggling to hold a course against the constantly shifting currents.

We passed the southern tip of Hatteras Island—nothing but sandy beaches and dunes tufted with windswept grass. It was a wild, desolate place, but I couldn't escape the feeling that I was returning home. If only we could know what we'd find there.

A bridge had once spanned the mile-wide inlet. Now all that remained of it was a series of columns that loomed large a couple hundred yards ahead of us. It wasn't until we drew closer that I recalled the words that Alice had seen painted on one of the columns as we'd left the inlet more than a week before:
Croatoan,
and
murder
.
Croatoan
was a reference to the elementals' abandoned colony. I figured that
murder
was a reference to the drowned men from John White's exploratory crew.

Seeing the columns reminded me of the other thing I'd spotted on the day that we'd left: an abandoned settlement on the south side of the inlet. I tried to spy it again now, but couldn't. So I climbed the ladder that ran against the mast.

“What are you doing, Thomas?” my father shouted.

“There's an old settlement to the south,” I said. “Tarn told us about it . . . about how you used to trade with them years ago.” That wasn't all that Tarn had said. She'd explained that rats had brought Plague to the settlement, and that the people had opted to stay together, even though it was a death sentence. Hard to believe that they'd surrender so easily when survival was as simple as crossing the sound and joining us in our colony on Hatteras Island.

“You shouldn't be up there,” my father protested. “These currents are unpredictable.”

Not as unpredictable as they were on the day that White's men drowned, I thought. Unless . . .

An image formed in my mind then: the abandoned settlement's inhabitants crossing the sound in an attempt to escape the rats. Only something was holding them back—the very same thing that had held back John White's exploratory crew centuries earlier.

“That bridge column didn't exist when John White's men passed through the sound, did it?” Alice asked no one in particular.

Neither of the Guardians seemed eager to answer her. “No,” said my father finally. “The bridge was built centuries later.”

“So the words were written later too.”

“What
words,
” my father chided. “There's only one word.”

“There are two,” I called down. “The word
murder
is written on the blind side of the column. I saw it when we were leaving. But then, you already know that, don't you?”

Father and Tarn exchanged glances.

“It doesn't mean anything,” said Tarn.

“The people from that settlement wanted to join you, didn't they,” Alice fired back. It wasn't a question, either. “They wanted to join you, but elementals and non-elementals can't coexist, right?”

“Some of them already had the Plague,” snapped Tarn.

“So? Nyla has the Plague now. Rose and Dennis too.”

“Enough!” Marin emerged from below deck, hands raised as if she were surrendering. “You want to know the truth? We chose to save ourselves, yes.”

“You killed them!”

“We killed
no one
. The Plague killed those people. We're convenient scapegoats, that's all. Always have been. Always will be.” Even from partway up the mast I could see that Marin was crying. “When my children die of this disease, you won't see
me
running away. I won't let them suffer alone through the last strikes of life.”

“But that's
your
decision.” Alice remained insistent, but seeing Marin clearly affected her. “They'd made a decision too, and you stopped them from saving themselves. You can be as noble as you like for yourself, but you have blood on your hands, Marin. All of you do.”

Marin brushed her tears away. “Spoken like an enemy, Alice. But then, that's not so surprising, I suppose. You were always going to show your true colors eventually.”

In the silence that followed I wondered what exactly Marin meant by that. And why Tarn didn't say a word in Alice's defense.

O
nce we were through the inlet and on the open waters of the Pamlico Sound, the Guardians left us. Tarn went first, as Ananias took the wheel. Father followed her. It was impossible not to wonder if they were still trying to hide something from us.

From my position on the mast, Roanoke Island appeared as a hazy outline to the north. I climbed down the ladder and savored the feel of stable planks beneath me again.

“We should anchor off the southern tip,” said Ananias. “It'll keep us out of sight of the pirates.”

Alice shook her head. “We'll head for the eastern shore. Anchor off Shallowbag Bay.”

“Are you crazy?” I snapped. “The pirates will see us from Skeleton Town. They'll know exactly where we are.”

“No, they won't. They'll see the ship, but we won't be on it.” She waved her hand at a point in the distance. Maybe she was engaging her element and could already see that far. “When we pass under the bridge that connects Roanoke and Hatteras Islands, the columns will block the pirates' view of the ship for a moment—long enough for us to jump overboard. While the pirates continue to watch the ship, we swim to shore. Then we circle around Skeleton Town and approach them from the rear. We'll have the element of surprise.”

“We'll be outnumbered,” warned Ananias.

“Surprise isn't our only element,” Alice reminded him. “Our powers are strongest on Roanoke. Anyway, we're not looking to fight the pirates. The plan is just to rescue your mother and grandmother . . . if Tessa's still alive, I mean.”

First Alice had hidden the journal from me. Now she was deciding our next move as if no one's opinion mattered except hers. I wasn't in the mood to play along. “I suppose the ship will sail itself, right?”

Alice rolled her eyes. “Rose and Dennis and Nyla aren't fit to come. Marin will want to stay with them. Between her and Tarn, anchoring the ship in Shallowbag Bay won't be a problem.”

“And what if the pirates row out to the ship while we're gone? Only Tarn and Marin are strong enough to put up any resistance.”

“They won't need to resist at all. If Tarn sees the pirates coming, she'll weigh anchor and Marin will use her element to move the ship away. In the meantime, we'll have fewer men to deal with on the island. It's a win-win.”

“What if the pirates shoot at them?”

“We'll tell everyone to stay below deck.”

Ananias seemed convinced, but I wasn't. “Even if we rescue Skya and Tessa, and somehow manage to avoid getting drawn into a fight—
then
what? We can't set off on another voyage, Alice.”

“We won't have to. To be honest, I don't think the pirates are going to fight us at all. Not once they get an up-close reminder of what our elements can do.” Alice flared her nostrils. “Look, if you have a better plan to offer, Thom, then go ahead. I'm listening.” She waited a moment and raised her hand in mock salute. “Thought so.”

She turned on her heel and strode to the prow, where she could get an unobstructed view across the sound to Roanoke Island. I followed her. “How did you know that stuff about White's expedition, Alice? About those men who drowned.”

The corner of her mouth twisted upward in a smirk. “I wondered when you were going to mention that.”

“Well?”

“You know perfectly well how I know. I read it in the third journal.”

I froze. Somehow it had never occurred to me that she'd admit it. “So where's the journal now?”

“In the ocean. Best place for it. Trust me.”

I brought my fist down on the deck railing, which gave a low metallic clang. Then I flexed my fingers to make sure that nothing was broken.

She glanced at my hand from the corner of her eye. “I guess you want to hit me. Did you think the journal was yours, Thom? Is that what you thought?”

“Well, it sure wasn't
yours
. You know how much Griffin wanted to read it. He could've pieced together the whole story of who we are.”

“Not who we
are,
Thom. Who we
were
. Anyway, it's time we started looking forward, not backward.”

“Who says we can't do both? Griffin deserves to know the truth.”

“The
truth
.” She snorted. “The truth is that the Guardians have lied to us for years, in more ways than we can probably ever know. And about more things than we can ever forgive.”

“That's not good enough, Alice. Griffin wants details. After all he has been through, don't you think he deserves that much?”

She ran dirty fingers across her chapped lips. She was staring at the sound, but her mind seemed to be elsewhere. When she spoke, her voice was gentler than before. “I thought Griffin was going to die, Thom.” She exhaled slowly. “I was so angry. We rescued him from Sumter, but the next morning he seemed sicker than ever. I thought we'd been wrong about him—that he wasn't the solution after all. And, I don't know if this makes sense, but . . . I didn't want him to spend his last days reading that journal. You have to believe me—it would've raised more questions than it answered. Griffin could spend the rest of his life reading this stuff and never get to the bottom of it all. But you're right: It wasn't my place to keep the journal from him. I'm sorry. I was just so angry with all the lies, you know? They never end.”

An apology—another surprise. Alice had always been impetuous and mercurial, but I'd never had such a hard time reading her before. She was always the girl with a plan. So what was the endgame this time?

“I understand that you hate me right now,” she said.

“I don't hate you.” It was the right thing to say—almost true, as well.

“Detest me, then. Loathe me. Whatever. You have more reasons to hate me than you even know.”

Another cryptic remark, almost like she was inviting me to delve deeper. But it was also an olive branch, and I had to take it. “You saved Griffin from Sumter,” I said. “After losing your sister and your father . . . you still risked everything for my brother, and I'm grateful for that.”

We were reverting to our usual roles: Alice, keeper of secrets; Thomas, peacemaker. Only, Alice didn't seem reassured at all.

She pointed to the Roanoke–Hatteras bridge in the distance. “Remember a couple weeks ago when we went to spy on the pirates? How we kept to the shadow of the bridge?”

“How could I forget? I was petrified.”

“You did well.”

“Only because you told me what to do,” I said honestly. “When Dare walked right by us on the beach, I almost screamed. Then he chopped that guy's finger off, and stuck his own hands in the fire—”

“Dare scared me too. Back then, anyway.”

“Not so scary now he's gone, is he?”

“No.” She chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “He doesn't scare me anymore.”

She rolled her neck. Hands resting against the railing, she stared into the distance, eyes narrowed, element engaged. A few moments later, she shook her head slowly as if the element wasn't working properly, or she didn't believe what she thought she'd seen.

“What is it, Alice?”

She studied the surface of the water. “There's something out there.”

I squinted in a vain attempt to see what she was seeing. “What is it?”

“A raft, I think. Yes, it's definitely a raft.”

She pointed. Sure enough, there was something out there, though it was hardly more than a speck.

“Tell Ananias to steer due north,” she said, voice quiet and urgent.

Something about her tone made it clear that this was no ordinary raft. I ran back across the deck and showed Ananias where to point the prow.

“What's out there?” he asked.

“A raft.”

Ananias spun the wheel to the right, and we lost speed as the ship turned. “Did she see anything on it?”

“Must've done. She wouldn't have told us to shift course otherwise.”

Ananias pursed his lips. “I think it's time you got Father. Tarn too. We're on enemy water now.”

I shouted down the stairs for Father and Tarn to rejoin us. When I returned to Alice at the prow, I saw something on top of the raft. “Are those—”

“Bodies,” said Alice. “Three of them. . . . No, four.” She bit the knuckle of her thumb. “They're not moving. Something's not right.”

“What is it, Alice?”

She blinked twice and stared at the water again. Whatever she saw, she didn't like it. She backed away from the rail and turned to leave.

“Where are you going?”

She looked at me, then at the steps leading below deck. I couldn't tell what was playing out in her mind. “I need to tell . . .” She didn't finish the thought, because just then, Father and Tarn emerged.

Finally I saw what she had seen: Four people on board the raft, and not one of them was moving. Three were turned away from us so that we couldn't make out their faces, but one had her head tilted slightly toward us. And as her long gray hair was ruffled by the breeze, I knew exactly who it was.

Tessa. My grandmother.

I glanced back at Alice. She was watching me with a faraway expression. “There's only one reason to stick four bodies on a raft and cast them off,” she said. “And we both know what it is.”

Yes, we did. I just couldn't believe that Tessa might be dead so soon after I'd begun to know her.

“You realize what this means, don't you?” she continued.

“They're all dead.”

“More than that. The other three look like pirates, and I'm guessing they didn't shoot each other. Which means there must be another killer on Roanoke Island.” Alice lowered her eyes, as if she was frightened by her own realization. “And I have a horrible feeling it's Plague.”