Storm of Sharks (13 page)

‘Ignore Skipper,’ said Gregor.
‘I say what’s what, and I say you stay put. You go wandering off
you’ll get us all hung. I want you where I can keep an eye on you,
y’hear?’

Drew sensed that the boy was more than happy
to harm him should the need arise. He winced as he tried to get comfortable.

‘Fetch a bucket of seawater,
Kit,’ said the girl as she manoeuvred round the injured lycanthrope. ‘Reckon
I need to change this bandage. Injuries ain’t been cleaned since we first dressed
’em.’

Drew heard the creak and rattle of a rickety
door as Kit left and Pearl immediately set to work.

‘You said … you said the
older folk had been taken away?’ said Drew, trying to continue the conversation to
take his mind off the pain of the bandage removal.

‘Aye,’ replied Gregor.
‘Fathers and mothers, all gone. Ghul’s had ’em rounded up. How else do
you think he’s winning this war?’

‘I don’t follow,’ said
Drew, gritting his teeth as Pearl tugged the soiled cloth away from his flesh. ‘I
thought Bosa had got the better of Ghul. That’s what we heard on the mainland,
anyway.’

‘Things change awful fast in the
Cluster Isles,’ said Pearl. ‘The Whale had the Kraken on the run, with every
free pirate on the White Sea sailing to his side. But Ghul’s no fool. The
Squidlord knows how to break the backs of his enemies …’

‘How does taking your parents help him
defeat Baron Bosa?’

‘Just about every man who sails the
White Sea has family or loved ones in Cutter’s Cove,’ said Pearl.
‘Every pirate is somebody’s son or daughter.’

‘Ghul got tired of being hounded by
Bosa’s fleet and took everyone connected to Bosa’s renegades. That’s
pretty much every free man and woman in the Cluster Isles,’ Gregor explained.

‘Where to?’

‘Out to sea,’ the boy replied.
‘Dunno where, but whatever he’s done it’s had an effect on the
Whale’s ships. Whole crews have turned themselves over to Ghul, every soul aboard
getting clapped in irons.’

‘What’s he doing with those
he’s kidnapped?’ said Drew.

‘No idea,’ said Gregor.
‘Little news gets to us here in Cutter’s Cove. Ain’t no ships coming
into the harbour, only
the military. They fly the Lion’s red and
gold, plus others – black flags from some distant land.’

‘Bast,’ whispered Drew.

‘What?’ asked the boy.

‘You mean, where,’ Drew replied.
‘It’s a jungle continent, south of Lyssia. That’s where the
Lion’s reinforcements have come from, shiploads of soldiers from
overseas.’

He’d travelled to the White Sea with
the hope of finding Bosa. To hear that the Whale’s fleet was being whittled away,
just as Violca had suggested, made Drew’s heart sink. And what had become of
Whitley, he dreaded to think.

‘Was there any sign of the ship
I’d been on when you fished me out of the sea?’

‘No,’ said Gregor. ‘If it
was Ghul’s men that attacked you, then there’s a few likely outcomes, none
of them good. The crew will have taken the Red and sworn fealty to the Lion, or else
they’ve been taken to the same place as our parents. Maybe they’re all dead.
Either way, that ship belongs to Ghul now.’

‘One of my friends was aboard,’
said Drew, sick with worry.

‘Then you’d best pray the
Kraken’s in a merciful mood,’ said Pearl, tugging the last tattered cloth
from Drew’s back. He cried out as Pearl gasped.

‘I don’t believe it. The wounds
have healed! They’re –’

Pearl’s words were cut short by
shouting outside. A whip crack and a child’s cry sent shivers racing down
Drew’s battered spine. More calls followed: it sounded like a chase was under way,
the calls of the men slowly growing distant. The door
suddenly creaked
open as a panting Kit returned to the room. Drew was utterly lost, still unsure of who
he was with, let alone what his surroundings were.

‘What’s going on?’ he
said.

‘Looks as though the Krakenguard
collared Kit,’ said Pearl quietly. ‘Here, let me look at that.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ said the
young boy. Drew heard the anger in his voice as he tried to stifle his sobs.

‘Collared him?’ said Drew.
‘Why would they beat him for fetching a pail of water?’

‘There’s a curfew at
night,’ replied Gregor. ‘You take your chances if you’re out after
dark. Did he follow you, Kit?’

‘I lost him on the front. This bucket
had better be worth the skin it cost me.’

‘Good lad,’ said Pearl.
‘Seems our guest’s wounds are healed, Sosha only knows how. May yet need
that bucket for the whip welts on your own back, little brother.’

‘So where are we now?’ asked
Drew as he heard the bucket handed over, and smelled the salt water. ‘And I mean
precisely.’

‘You’re in a hut in
Cutter’s Cove – one of many – and it happens to be our
home,’ said Gregor. ‘You understand now why I ain’t keen on
Hackett’s men finding us harbouring you? They’re killers. There’s been
four hangings already this last week. We all got homes in the town, but they turfed us
out, stuck us in this work camp in sheds and lean-tos. And they work us like slaves,
trawling the sea and tilling the land for them. We weren’t born to serve others.
We’re the Pirate Isles – we plunder, we steal, we take what we want.
Cutter’s Cove was once home to the most feared captains of the White Sea.
Ain’t a soul on these islands who isn’t connected to
piracy in some way, shape or form.’

‘Ain’t a soul
left
on
these islands, apart from us children,’ said Kit.

‘They’ve taken
every
adult?’ asked Drew, incredulously.

‘All the able-bodied.’

‘So there are
some
adults
left in Cutter’s Cove?’

‘A few dusty old seadogs and retired
tavern wenches. The town’s manned by children now, forced into labour by Hackett
and the Krakenguard.’

‘And who’s Hackett?’ said
Drew, struggling to piece the puzzle together.

‘He’s the Steward of
Cutter’s Cove,’ said Pearl, tearing a cloth from somewhere and dunking it
into the bucket. Drew heard the water slosh as the girl soaked it in brine.
‘Hackett runs the place in Ghul’s absence. He’s one of them
Werelords.’

‘You won’t ever find a meaner
piece of pond scum than the Crab,’ added Gregor. ‘Let me help you with that,
sis.’

Drew listened to the younger boy’s
sobs as his siblings saw to the wounds the whip had inflicted.

‘You mentioned Skipper,’ said
Drew. ‘Who’s he?’

‘He’s the jumped-up little toad
who thinks he can tell us what to do,’ said Gregor.

‘And he works with Hackett?’

‘Sosha, no!’ exclaimed Pearl.
‘He’s one of us, another kid, but he’s got big ideas.’

‘Big ideas for a small fry,’
muttered Gregor. ‘Thinks he can turn up and just start telling us what to
do.’

‘Gregor’s bitter because
Skipper’s half his size.’

‘He thinks we should do as he says just
because he’s served time on a ship,’ said the boy moodily. ‘That
don’t make him better than us.’

‘So then where’s Ghul?’
said Drew. ‘If Hackett runs Cutter’s Cove in his absence, where’s the
Squidlord?’

‘That’s what Skipper’s
trying to find out,’ said Pearl. ‘He and a few other lads took a fishing
boat out, to see what’s happening out there. We’re just praying they make it
back here.’

‘I hope my friends make it
back,’ said Gregor. Drew heard the boy spit. ‘As for Skipper, Sosha can take
him, for all I care.’

‘You really don’t like him, do
you?’ said Drew.

‘You’ve Skipper to thank for
still being a free man, pal,’ said the boy, his breath warm on Drew’s face.
‘Believe me, I’d have handed you over to Hackett when we dragged you ashore.
He’s the one who said we needed to hide you. The way I see it, the longer we do
that, the longer we put ourselves in danger with the Crablord’s men. If it
weren’t for your little guardian angel, and the song and dance he made over
keeping you safe and alive, you might’ve been hanging from the gallows in
Cutter’s Cove by now.’

Drew heard the boy rise. ‘Lights out,
Pearl. Guards’ll be round shortly.’

‘Wait,’ said Drew suddenly.
‘I had a sword on me when I was tossed overboard – at least I think I
did. I don’t suppose it was still in my weapon belt when you found me.’

‘Weapon belt? Sword? Are you having a
laugh? You must have lost it, and I’d be grateful too, if I were you. A piece of
steel would’ve dragged you to the ocean bed for sure, dirtwalker.’

‘So you never saw it, then?’ said
Drew, irritated.

The stick was under his throat instantly,
cutting off his air supply.

‘I don’t take kindly to
accusations. Your sword’s gone. If you ask me, Skipper’s a fool to protect a
dirtwalker like you. What makes you so special, exactly?’

‘Leave him alone.’

The voice was new to Drew, coming out of
nowhere, causing Pearl and Kit to gasp.

‘Never heard you come in,’
grunted Gregor to the new arrival. ‘Taken to creepin’ around like a mouse,
have you, Skipper?’

‘If it keeps me alive, I’ll
creep like a roach,’ said the boy quietly, his voice strangely familiar to Drew.
‘Step away from our guest, Gregor.’

‘Or what? I’m getting tired of
you flouncing around like you own the place, just because you once served some
highfalutin’ Werelord. You’re no better’n us,
Skipper
.’

‘Maybe not. But I’ll put you in
the dirt if you cross me, Gregor, I swear to Sosha. Now clear off.’

Drew heard the bigger boy depart, Pearl and
Kit following him to the other side of the hut, where they were soon engaged in muted
conversation. Drew blinked, grey shapes shifting through the white mists that fogged his
eyes.
Is my sight returning, or is my mind playing tricks on me?

‘My lord,’ whispered Skipper,
his voice suddenly close to Drew. ‘I can’t believe it’s really
you.’

‘Do I know you?’ said Drew
hesitantly, afraid of what the answer might be.

‘I should hope so,’ said the boy.
There was a lightness to his voice, as if he were smiling.

‘I can’t
see – I’m blind,’ said Drew.

The boy gently traced his finger around the
Werelord’s eyes. ‘It’s me, Drew. It’s Casper.’

Staring up into the clear blue sky, the
water of the Redwine lapping about her ankles, Gretchen couldn’t help but be
transported to her childhood. There was a pool in a glade, deep in the heart of her
father’s woodland, far removed from the city. As a child her nurse would accompany
her, enabling the young therian to play to her heart’s content. Occasionally her
friends might join her in the glade, girls from other courts across the Seven Realms,
daughters of nobles her father entertained. They would laugh, and play, and sometimes
just lie on the bank, staring at the clouds while their toes dangled into the pool. This
was a place secret and special to the ladies of Hedgemoor. Her mother had told her about
it, and Gretchen had hoped to tell her daughters about it. One day. She sighed as the
daydream jarred her back to reality: that day would never come.

Gretchen allowed herself a moment more of
relaxation, closing her eyes while the Redwine massaged her feet, the sounds of spring
surrounding her. She caught the distant voices of her men from their campsite, the odd
peal of laughter carried on the wind to her secluded spot. She ground her teeth. If she
could hear them, who else might?

Sitting upright, she reached a hand through
the grass to snatch at her boots, her eyes trailing over the river. They skimmed over
the moss-covered outcropping of a rock, its tip breaking the surface as the Redwine
raced over it. At that instant, the ‘rock’ shape blinked. She dropped her
boots, her eyes flying back to the river, just in time to see it disappear.

Gretchen kept very still, her eyes fixed on
the surface of the water.
Are my eyes playing tricks on me?
She was tired and
weary, her Harriers constantly on the move, changing camp from day to day, never staying
in one place for too long. Trent had the most military experience in the group, but he
wouldn’t lead. That task was a Werelord’s; this was Gretchen’s role.
The command of the band had fallen upon her shoulders, and the responsibility weighed
heavily. She squinted at the spot in the river where the head had surfaced, her eyes
growing bleary as the water constantly moved.
No,
she thought
. I’m
not going mad. There was a head there … wasn’t there?