Take Back the Skies (17 page)

‘I need to get changed.'

Not waiting for Fox to reply, she retreated to her room, staring at herself in the mirror. Her face was red, and she looked distinctly flustered.

‘Bloody boys,' she muttered to herself, pulling more appropriate clothes from her wardrobe.

The coat from her pickpocketing excursion was still slung over the chair, and she quickly rifled through the hidden pockets, pulling out the purses one by one. She frowned when her fingers touched rough paper, and let out a laugh upon pulling out the small bag of toffee squares. Storms, it felt like such a long time ago, she'd completely forgotten she'd bought them. Stowing them away in her desk drawer, she gathered up the purses and made for the lowest levels of the ship, wondering how long Harry and Alice needed her for. They had a lot of planning yet to do, if they were going to be ready to slip into the government compound during worship hours. Still, she supposed, they could hardly let down the people who were relying on the smuggled goods. The world didn't stop for them; not yet, at least.

Seeing the trapdoor open at the very bottom of the ship startled Cat; it was the first time she'd seen evidence of the lowest floor since she'd joined the crew. Presuming she would find Harry and Alice down there, she cradled the purses to her chest with one arm, using the other to climb down the ladder.

‘I brought these with me,' she declared upon seeing her captain's hat-covered grey hair. ‘Completely forgot about them until now.'

‘Excellent, excellent. Blimey, lass, you did do well!' Harry cried upon seeing the fat purses, a proud look on his face that made Cat feel warm inside. ‘Set them up there.' Cat nodded, reaching up to put the purses in a small crate resting on a stack of larger ones. There were a lot more crates than she'd expected, and Cat was impressed that they'd managed to smuggle so much without getting caught.

‘Where do we deliver to exactly?' she queried, wondering how they were going to get everything out without arousing suspicion.

‘Danley. We've got friends there who'll share it around,' Alice told her.

‘Danley's a good walk away. How are we going to get everything past the checks?'

Alice smiled mischievously.

‘Most of the guards are lazy, you see, and so bored with their jobs that they won't check the crate thoroughly. It's easy enough to hide things, especially since we're legally permitted to transport furs. They'll see two or three layers of furs and let us past,' she explained.

‘Fair enough. Still, I don't fancy carrying these crates all the way to Danley,' Cat mused, eyeing the stacks. Most of them were big enough for her to fit inside; how was she supposed to carry them?

Harry chuckled, shaking his head at her.

‘No, no, we're not carrying them. I'll rent a cart and mule from the man by the gate, like most traders,' he told her. ‘Right, we're ready to start unloading.'

Cat leaned against a crate, a frown on her face as she studied the tiny trapdoor hole. Harry dealt with her confusion by fiddling with a small gear plate on the far wall. Her jaw dropped as a panel of the wall folded and slid to the side, opening up a hatch that was big enough to offload the crates.

‘That's genius,' she breathed.

‘That was Fox's idea,' said Harry with a grin.

‘Yes, well, I suppose he has to have some half-decent ones every now and then,' she replied casually. Alice snickered, clearly picking up on how the secret hatch had gone from ‘genius' to ‘half-decent' in a matter of seconds.

Shifting the crates down the ramp that Harry pulled out from the floor was tiring work, but eventually they
got all eight crates on to the concrete outside. Alice and Cat sat on a crate while Harry went to rent a cart. Cat watched as huge, hulking men – some even bigger than Matt – carried barrels and crates on to other, larger trade ships, tossing them about as if they weighed no more than matchboxes.

‘Are we ready to get moving, then?' Harry called, jogging up with his hand gripping the reins of a dark grey, somewhat scrawny mule that didn't seem to appreciate being made to move.

‘He looks a little on the skinny side – are you sure he's up for the job?' Alice asked, surveying the animal critically. Harry shrugged, manoeuvring the mule so the cart was close to the pile of crates.

‘Richie says he's stronger than he looks,' he insisted, patting the mule on the withers. ‘Just a little reluctant to set off at first,' he added with a frown.

Cat eyed the mule; his ribs stuck out a bit, but his shoulders looked sturdy enough and his hips were full.

‘I can ride him there, if you like. I've ridden before. Horses, admittedly, but a mule can't be much different,' she said, jumping down from the crate to help Harry load it up the cart's ramp.

‘Without a saddle?' Harry asked, eyebrows raised.

Cat nodded, gently running a hand down the mule's flank as he started at the sudden noise behind him.

Having hauled the crates out from the ship itself, it didn't take too much effort to then get them on to the cart. Alice and Cat waited patiently as Harry retreated back through the hatch, closing it up behind him and emerging several
minutes later from the trap on deck, jogging down the gangplank to join them.

‘Need a hand up, lad?' Harry asked, and Cat blinked – before realising that, of course, they would have to treat her as a boy in public.

‘Please,' she said, shifting to the side. With Harry's help, she swung on to the mule's back with ease. It wasn't the most comfortable thing she'd ever sat on, but it was bearable.

Harry looped the reins back over the mule's head, passing them to Cat. She dug her heels firmly into the animal's skinny sides, tugging gently with the reins to turn him in the right direction. He didn't seem too bothered by her riding him; his ears twitched lazily every now and then, his pace slow and steady. Harry and Alice walked along beside her, arm in arm.

They got to the gate and were stopped by a narrow-faced guard. His mud-brown eyes landed on her, a sneer tugging at his thin lips.

‘Is your brat too lazy to walk, or just too stupid?' he remarked, looking amused at his own wit.

‘The brat isn't, but the mule is,' Harry retorted. ‘Sprog's just keeping him going.'

The guard glared, reaching out to the nearest crate. Cat held her breath.

‘Permit?' he requested sharply, and Harry handed over a ragged-looking piece of paper, which the guard ran his eyes over, handing it back within seconds. Leaning over the side of the cart, he peered into the crate, lifting several layers of thick fur. Cat crossed her fingers, silently praying to anyone who might be listening.

She sighed almost audibly in relief when the guard let the lid drop shut again, waving them forward.

‘Next!' he called, looking to a much larger cart waiting behind them.

Cat kicked the mule's sides, urging him forward, and relied on Alice for direction as they entered the city. In a few minutes they turned into an area that was unfamiliar to her, and it was only when the streets got dirtier and the buildings smaller and more rundown that she realised they were heading to Danley through the slums.

As they moved deeper and deeper into the slums, Cat gripped the mule's ragged mane. This was unknown territory to her, and as reluctant as she was to admit it, it frightened her. Several buildings were half collapsed, missing doors and windows. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw a shadow down a side alley, and a small boy – probably no older than six or seven – emerged. He was dirty and in ragged clothes, his arms stick thin. Harry didn't look surprised to see him, and merely patted him on his greasy head, drawing a hesitant smile from the boy before he ran off again. Before she knew it, they were being followed by a small crowd of people. Still, Harry and Alice carried on confidently, and Cat forced herself to be calm.

‘We were wondering when you would turn up. You're late, old friend.' The quiet, easy voice spoke from the shadows, and Harry broke into a grin.

‘We've had a few unexpected changes in circumstance, Gareth.'

As Harry spoke, a tall, thin man in a threadbare green
jumper walked towards them, embracing Harry. He nodded respectfully to Alice, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.

‘You help us more than you can imagine – a short wait is no problem.' Gareth's eyes landed on Cat atop the mule, and his white-blond eyebrows rose.

‘Who's this, then?'

‘One of our unexpected changes in circumstance,' Harry explained. ‘Gareth, meet the newest addition to my crew, Cat. Cat, lass, this is Gareth, a good friend of ours. He's the one who's so kindly distributing our goods to those who need them.'

Cat smiled hesitantly at the man, whose eyebrows rose even higher.

‘Lass? Pardon my saying so, but you don't look much like a girl,' he told her politely, and she laughed.

‘That's the plan. It's easier for me to pretend to be a boy than admit to being a girl and have everyone tell me I'm incapable,' she explained.

He nodded sagely, extending a hand to her. She leaned forward to shake it.

‘Sound reasoning. How did you end up flying with our Harry?'

Cat shrugged.

‘I ran away from home, and stowed away on the best-looking ship in the yard,' she said. Harry let out a bark of laughter.

‘You flatter me, brat,' he said. They had a lot more people following them now; evidently word spread fast. ‘She's bright as a spark and pretty sneaky with her fingers – got a good haul from the courtyard.'

Gareth gave Cat an approving look.

‘That's what I like to hear. Oi, Josh, hands off!' he snapped suddenly, directing a sharp look at a young boy who had climbed on the cart, a hand reaching for the lid of the smallest crate. He looked up with wide blue eyes, then hopped off, backing away hurriedly.

‘Sorry about him, he's new. Orphan,' Gareth said, startling Cat with his rapid changes in demeanour. Alice frowned.

‘Poor lad. Is he staying with Jess?'

Gareth nodded.

‘Joined us about a week ago and he's a bit of a wild one. Rory's taken him under his wing, though, and it seems to be serving well enough.'

As Gareth spoke, they turned a corner into a small open area. The floor was dirty, cracked concrete, with a single ragged tree in the centre, and it was almost full of people. As they drew closer they were practically flooded with children; climbing the cart, jumping on Harry and Alice, some even attempting to join her on the mule, hands grasping at her trousers and boots. There was a sharp, loud whistle from Gareth, which spooked the mule into tossing his head and skittering sideways.

‘Give them some space, or you'll not get a crumb,' he ordered, and every single child stepped back. Cat slipped down from the mule and stood by Harry's side.

Several strong-looking men came forward to help Harry get the larger crates unloaded, while both men and women started pulling the lids off, setting the furs back on the cart to get to the goods beneath. Gareth took the smallest crate; lifting the lid a fraction, his eyes widened.

‘Bless you,' he murmured, his eyes meeting Harry's. ‘All of you.'

Harry smiled, clapping the man on the shoulder.

‘Cat assures me that none of the men and women in Siberene will miss the contents of their purses terribly.' He paused, frowning. ‘There seem to be far more of you since last time.'

Gareth smiled sadly, looking at the assembled group. ‘There's fewer jobs than there were last time you were round. More and more people these days with nowhere else to go.'

‘Who's this, then?' one woman asked, patting Cat on the head.

‘That's Cat, Maggie. We actually have a favour regarding her; she ran away with nothing but the clothes on her back, and all we've got to give her is Fox's old things. Don't suppose you've got any dresses some of the girls have outgrown?'

Cat jumped as a hand grasped her upper arm, pulling her to the side. She sent a wide-eyed look of alarm at Alice as she was led over to a group of women, then stood quietly while Maggie explained the situation.

‘She's about as tall as my Annie was, but smaller around the chest,' one woman remarked in a way that made Cat want to cross her arms over her front.

‘It's a shame she chopped her hair off, she would look lovely in pigtails,' another said, stroking a hand over her short hair. Cat shuddered inwardly at the thought of having pigtails; she hadn't had them since she was five.

Her clothes were tugged at, her arms moved up and down,
and hands roamed all over her body as they decided whether they had anything to fit her. She threw pleading glances to Alice until the older woman finally took pity on her, thanking the women for their help and taking Cat back to the cart, where people were carefully distributing the goods.

‘Was that really necessary?' Cat hissed under her breath, causing Alice to shake her head in amusement. ‘I picked up some clothes from home.'

‘They're only trying to help. They don't think it's proper for a young woman to be wandering around in boys' clothes.'

Cat rolled her eyes; there was nothing wrong with wearing boys' clothes.

‘Whereabouts in Danley are we? I don't recognise the area,' she admitted.

‘Harringford. And you wouldn't recognise it, lass. I don't doubt your lord father would tan your hide were he to find out you'd been here. The people of Harringford are those who can't afford to support themselves. The sick, the poor, the elderly, the unwed mothers. They band together here, and we help them the best we can,' Alice explained quietly, her eyes darting to a young woman – barely older than Cat – with a tiny baby cradled in her arms. The child was wrapped in threadbare swaddling blankets. The mother was even scrawnier than Cat, with large purple circles under her eyes, and no shoes. Cat had heard, of course, some of the older government boys bragging; how they'd seduced a poor common girl and had their way with her, or paid for one at a brothel. She should have realised such behaviour might end in situations like this.