Angel Arias (3 page)

N
aif hastened after Ruzalia as the pirate strode back into the dining hall.

Inside was chaos; tables and chairs upturned, food spilled. For a moment there seemed to be more noise than danger, but then Naif saw the knife at Markes’s throat.

Her heart contracted into a hard, painful ball.

Charlonge stood near him, paler than a Riper. The boy who held the knife was the one who’d spoken to her earlier. His face burned with fury, his skin shiny with sweat. The hand that held the knife to Markes’s skin trembled as though it might slip at any moment.

‘Put it down, Rajka. Or Long-Li will have his say,’ said Ruzalia.

The old man appeared in the doorway and sprang in front of Ruzalia to crouch like a predator. There was no age to his movement. Simply threat.

‘You think I couldn’t take him, Ruzalia? You think I couldn’t do them both?’

Ruzalia crossed her arms, her mouth settling into a grim line. ‘I think you couldn’t. And that’s a fact, Rajka, not a challenge.’

Perspiration trickled down from the boy’s hairline to his jaw.

Ruzalia noticed it as well. She extended her scowl to his companions.

Naif saw what she was looking at. They were all the same, sweating and glassy-eyed. They’d taken something and yet . . . there were no pods and beads on Ruzalia’s island. She searched everyone when they arrived and destroyed them.

‘Li.’ Ruzalia said the name so softly that Naif saw her lips move but barely heard it.

Long-Li kicked the knife from Rajka’s hand before Naif could let go of her breath. It grazed Markes’s throat and then flew in a high arc, landing on the next table. Those standing near it moved out of its way.

Or maybe it was the look that replaced Ruzalia’s frown that scared them. Lips pursed in fury, she lunged forward and smacked Rajka across the face with an open hand.

The force made him stagger back. Before he could recover, she slapped him again, so hard this time that he fell to the floor. Then she pulled him up by his shirtfront until her lips were almost upon his.

‘Where did you get the beads?’

Rajka stayed silent, his breath a little ragged.

‘I will give you one more chance to answer me. If you don’t, I’ll lock you in the low caves. You been down there, Rajka? The rats like it well. It’s damp and cold and very dark. The tide comes in and fills it so full that there’s no air left to breathe. Even if the undertow doesn’t pull you out, you’ll drown.
Now
: where – did – you – get – the – beads?’ She shook him hard as she spoke, so that his head jerked back and forth.

Naif stole a glance around the hall. No one moved.

‘Don’t know watcha –’

Ruzalia balled her fist and wound her arm back ready to hit him. Rajka was tall but Ruzalia was bigger, as tall as a Riper but strong and broad with it.

‘We got them from Jud,’ cried the girl in Rajka’s group. ‘Don’t hit him again. Please!’

Ruzalia froze.

As the entire hall held their breath, Ruzalia’s crew of pirates burst through the door: Jud, La and El Lobos and Plank. The Lobos twins led the way. They were small, agile-looking men with bald heads and blue skin from their myriad tattoos. Plank came last and by contrast seemed enormous and lumbering. His round face was made rounder by a huge wide mouth and gold front teeth. Between them was Jud. His dirty bandana had slipped down over one eye and he scratched at his long, straggling hair.

All of them stopped inside the doorway, surveying the scene.

Ruzalia let her grip on Rajka slacken and he stumbled as his feet took his own weight.

The pirate didn’t seem to notice. She was looking at her men. ‘La. El. Take Jud to my rooms. Wait with him.’

The meaning in her voice was clear.

Jud glanced at the others and plunged back into the hall. They flew after him but Long-Li was the quickest, a blur in the corner of Naif’s sight as he leapt into Jud’s path.

Jud threw out a hand to ward the old man off, but Long-Li dropped to his knees and in one fluid motion whipped a baton from inside his loose shirt. With a quick, emphatic movement he struck at Jud’s knees. There was a sickening crack and Jud collapsed screaming.

Everyone began to talk at once, and Rajka hastened backwards to his friends.

‘Silence!’ roared Ruzalia. She vaulted onto a table, kicking plates aside. All eyes in the hall shifted from where Jud lay moaning, to Ruzalia’s imposing presence. ‘Eat and go about your chores and stop your filthy whispering!’

The hall went quiet again; some nodding, some just looking down at their feet. Rajka held his tongue but smouldering anger had replaced the fear in his eyes. The girl who’d spoken up about Jud was clutching his arm as if holding him back.

Ruzalia gave him a long and meaningful stare before climbing down from the table and leaving the others to drag Jud after her.

After she and her crew had gone, voices rose in a quick spike of noise and everyone clustered in groups until a clanging brought all their attention to the back of the hall.

Mesree stood next to the serving tables with a metal soup ladle in one hand and a heavy skillet in the other. A platter piled with hot cakes rested in front of her.

Suddenly the clusters broke apart and merged into jostling lines. Only Rajka and his friends stayed at their tables, glowering at Markes, Charlonge and Naif.

‘Pissers!’ hissed Rajka.

Naif felt Suki’s absence again, fiercely. Her friend would have known how to cut the boy’s sullen anger dead. So would Kero, or Joel or Dark Eve.

To her surprise, Charlonge stepped in front of Markes. ‘You know Ruzalia bans bead and pods.’

‘Who is she to ban anything? This place is nothing more than a frossing prison. I’d prefer to be on Ixion.’

‘Then you’re even more stupid than you look,’ said Charlonge.

She turned and grabbed Markes’s arm and towed him towards Mesree.

Naif kept her focus on Rajka.

‘Ixion’s not the answer,’ she said to him as Charlonge and Markes joined the queue. ‘Not for any of us.’

‘Naif,’ called Charlonge. ‘Come.’

Naif gave Rajka one last look. She knew that Ruzalia had not quelled him. There would be more trouble.

She joined Charlonge and Markes in the line. Markes held a kerchief to his neck where the blade had pressed. A shallow cut, but a cut nonetheless. He looked rattled.

Up ahead, Mesree bellowed clean-up instructions as she slammed hot cakes on plates. Those on kitchen duty had been dispensed to pick up chairs and mop the spills.

Rajka and his group left the hall, ignoring her call for them to pitch in and help.

‘What did you say to him?’ Charlonge whispered.

Naif shrugged. ‘The truth. But he won’t listen. Char, I’m worried. Others have knives too. I’ve been watching them.’

‘Do you think Ruzalia knows?’ she replied. ‘Should we tell her?’

‘Shhh,’ said Markes.

People in the line were staring at them, and those closest seemed to be straining to hear their conversation. Though the tension in the room had eased there was still an air of watchfulness.

None of them spoke again until they reached the servery table. Markes took his plate first and held it out.

‘You all right, young ’un?’ asked Mesree. The cook was as wide as she was tall, with beefy arms that showed she tended to muscle rather than fat. Her face was broad and her eyes deep-set, making her expression hard to read. She reached across the table and grabbed his shoulder to pull him forward so she could peer at his neck. ‘Come and see me at the infirmary later if that cut you got don’t stop bleeding.’

He nodded and she resumed her serving pose, slapping extra food on his plate.

Charlonge collected hers next.

When it was Naif’s turn, Mesree gave her a sharp look. ‘You know that boy?’

‘Rajka?’ Naif shook her head. ‘Never spoken to him before.’

‘Keep it to that then. He’s one to stir trouble. Stick with your friends.’

Naif didn’t need the warning but she nodded her appreciation for the cook’s concern.

This time the three took their food to the back corner of the dining hall.

‘Charlonge,’ called a pretty girl with long curly hair at the last table next to the wall. ‘Come and sit here.’

The girl nudged her friends so that they’d shift along the bench seats and make room.

Charlonge glanced at Naif and gave a tiny nod. Naif went to sit down but the girl stalled her.

‘Boys first,’ she said. ‘And what’s
your
name, other than
divine
?’

Markes realised she was speaking to him and blushed. He stood there awkwardly but she grabbed his arm and pulled him down.

‘Be nice, Riss.’ Charlonge’s tone was disapproving as she sat on the other side of Markes.

That only left a space next to the boy on the other side of the table. Naif had noticed him before. He was attractive, with messy brown hair and dark skin, but something about his smile was empty. She’d seen that in a few of them; the pods and beads they’d consumed on Ixion had stolen something from their personality.

‘Sit,’ said the boy, patting the space next to him. ‘I don’t bite.’

‘Only after parties,’ said Riss.

The other girls groaned but he looked pleased.

Naif bent her head to her plate, hoping to get through her food quickly and go back to her room.

‘That Rajka’s an idiot,’ said Riss. ‘We would have died on Ixion. At least here we have a little longer. Shotz and I got away in the airship only a little while back. Someone was taken by the Night Creatures while we were being lifted.’

‘Yeah, we saw it as we went up on the gantry thing. He was ripped in half. His guts came out,’ said the boy next to her.

‘Don’t be gross, Shotz,’ said Riss. ‘There were no guts.’

‘Were!’ insisted Shotz.

‘Some people will only believe things if they see them,’ said Charlonge, turning the conversation back to Rajka.

Riss pulled a face at Shotz. ‘And some people make things up even when they do.’

He grinned at her and slipped an arm around Naif.

‘She believes me, don’tcha, darling?’

Naif sat stiffly. ‘I think I was there when that happened too. I saw a boy being pulled into the dark. He’d been standing next to me in the crowd. He wanted to help Dark Eve and Clash fight them. Clash tried to save him.’

‘Dark Eve . . . what a legend.’

‘And Clash. Though he’s not as pretty as you,’ said Riss, turning back to Markes.

He blushed again and forked hot cake into his mouth.

Riss’s bold words reminded Naif of Cal. But there was no malice in her tone; she was teasing. Cal would have added spite.

‘You coming to the rec room tonight? We’ve got some new music. Mesree gave it to Riss. She said it floated in on the tide,’ said Shotz.

The group of friends all laughed at that.

‘More like Ruzalia robbed a merchant ship,’ Riss added.

‘You should come,’ said Shotz, squeezing Naif tighter. ‘I’ll show you how good I can dance.’

Naif peeled his fingers from her shoulder, dropped his hand back on his lap and kept on eating. The others rolled their eyes but it was Markes’s scowl that got her senses truly humming. He didn’t like Shotz’s manner either.

‘Great idea,’ said Riss. She clapped her hands together. ‘You’ve been keeping to yourselves. Time you came and danced. There’s sod all else to do here. If we’re gonna die soon we might as well enjoy what time we have.’

Again she reminded Naif of Cal. ‘Are you from Grave North?’ she asked.

Riss nodded. ‘But we can’t go back to Grave. Not ever.’

Naif repressed a shiver. The girl was right.

Yet it was exactly what Naif planned to do.

R
iss pleaded and cajoled them until Charlonge said she would go to the rec room. Taking her lead, Naif and Markes reluctantly agreed too.

As they got up to leave the hall, Mesree shouted more clean-up instructions to those on her duty roster.

Naif put her plates on the stacking shelf and glanced to the door. At least Rajka and his friends were gone.

‘You like my hot cakes?’ asked Mesree. She’d come over to stand behind the bain-marie and was scooping the last of the dinner stews into tureens.

Naif nodded.

‘Could do with a few more of them, young ’un. You’re as skinny as a starved fish.’

Naif smiled at the cook.

‘Come on,’ urged Shotz over her shoulder.

Mesree winked and Naif’s smile widened. Something about the woman was solid and likeable.

Naif took care to walk between Markes and Charlonge, so that Shotz couldn’t get close to her. The whole group followed Riss along the main corridor to the west wing of La Galatea.

Naif and her friends had explored this part of the resort in the first few days after their arrival but had never ventured over there in the evenings, preferring to keep their own company and to stay clear of any arguments.

‘Why do you want us to go with them, Char?’ Naif whispered.

Charlonge wore a resolute expression. ‘If I’m to stay and help, I have to know what’s going on,’ she replied softly.

They passed out of the corridor into an anteroom and then into what those living there called the dance room. In truth it was a huge ballroom. The walls were edged with tarnished gilt wood and a luscious frieze covered the high ceiling.

Naif stopped just inside the entrance and stared up. Naked angels danced wildly around a central holy figure. In some places the mural had been eroded by damp, leaving the angels without fingers and toes.

The ballroom was lit by oil lamps and music leaked from a phonogram set into one of the window arches. It reminded her of Agios on Ixion, though the lights weren’t as low and the music was softer. Ruzalia allowed them to listen to music but set curfews on how late they played it.

The sun had only just set and the sounds from the radio caught Naif’s attention. She’d never heard music like it.

‘What is that?’

‘Radio Rangol,’ said Riss. ‘We found it accidentally. The music is cool, huh? All plinking sounds, but pretty as well.’

Riss was right; somehow it was discordant and melodious at once.

Naif glanced at Markes and saw the rapt expression on his face. Without seeming to realise it, he was drawn to the radio. She and Charlonge kept close to him, skirting the clusters of people.

In the far corner of the ballroom, Naif noticed rows of desks set up with games featuring little wooden pirates and dolmen. Only one table was occupied.

Naif felt drawn to the games in the way Markes was to the music, as if the puzzles might hold some explanations for her; some wisdom. On Grave she’d played simple memory games but nothing with such beautifully carved figurines and smooth lacquered boards.

‘Who is it?’ asked Markes.

The circle around the phonogram opened to let Markes enter. Too late, Naif saw that Rajka and his friends were part of it.

‘What do you want?’ said Rajka, his face flushed.

Markes stopped, but held his ground. Naif applauded him silently.

‘The music is beautiful,’ he said simply.

‘What would you know?’

Rajka’s friends sniggered.

‘You are the one who knows nothing,’ said Charlonge angrily.

‘Don’t waste your time on them, Char,’ said Riss, who’d strolled up behind them. Shotz and some of the other boys were with her. She pushed Charlonge aside and slid an arm around Markes’s waist, then spoke directly to Rajka. ‘He’s one of ours, idiot. They all are. So back off from now on.’

Rajka’s eyes sparked at the challenge and his friends all looked at him for a signal.

‘
Not
yours, Riss,’ he said. ‘He’s with Ruzalia. The three of them are spying on us. It’s obvious.’

‘That’s just stupid,’ said Charlonge.

‘You’ve taken too many pods, Rajka. I’ve seen that kind of paranoia on Ixion. You’ve lost it.’ Riss’s taunt was clear and loud.

Tension ran through the circle and beyond into the ballroom, the same way it had in the dining hall earlier.

Naif saw hands move to pockets and inside shirts, where home-made knives were hidden. Now, though, there was no Ruzalia or Long-Li, or the threat of Plank’s enormous size.

Desperate to stop the situation escalating, she touched Markes’s elbow and spoke in a voice that cut across the waiting quiet. ‘I want to play one of the dolmen games.’

Markes kept staring at Rajka but nodded. ‘Sure. The music doesn’t sound so good over here anymore.’

Naif gave Charlonge a steady look and they began to back away, pulling Markes from Riss’s grasp.

The muscles in his arm were rigid, his legs stiff as he walked, but he let them shepherd him to the other side of the room.

‘Yours is coming, Riss,’ called out Rajka. ‘And you can’t be with
them
all the time.’

Markes faltered but Naif urged him on. ‘He’s baiting her. And us. Don’t let him.’

But as the three of them walked past the clusters of young people, she caught snatches of their conversations.

‘They’re spies!’

‘Rajka’s sayin’ . . .’

‘. . . got beads . . .’

‘Riss and Rajka . . . tonight.’

‘. . . gonna stay in my room . . .’

‘You think they’ll fight at the . . .’

They stopped at the tabletop with the game and stared at the figurines.

‘It’s not over, is it?’ said Charlonge.

‘I saw their knives.’ Markes began to tremble now he was away from Rajka.

Naif opened her mouth to try to reassure them but Long-Li appeared silently at her side.

‘Come,’ he said. ‘Ruzalia wants you.’

The huge pirate Plank was standing behind him and reached out to slide his thick fingers around her upper arm.

‘But I want to stay with my friends,’ she said to Long-Li. ‘We’ve been . . . threatened.’

Long-Li glanced across the ballroom to where Rajka and Riss stared at each other. ‘Trouble?’

‘Yes.’ Naif looked back at her friends.

‘Markes and I will go to our room,’ said Charlonge.

‘Please, will you take them?’ Naif asked Long-Li.

He scowled and nodded, flipping his long plait over his shoulder. ‘Follow me,’ he said to Charlonge and Markes.

They followed quickly, after casting Naif warning glances.

‘Now we go!’ said Plank, and with a grip that brooked no resistance, he hustled her out.