Finder's Shore (12 page)

“Maybe we shouldn’t be too hasty,” Malky says. He ignores Abelton’s bluster, focussing on Ton. “A little change wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

Ton rubs his jaw.

“How this is handled will set the tone for the future,” Malky adds quietly. “Think, man.”

Abelton doesn’t like being ignored. “Colm’s still warm on the floor and you’re talking of deals with the strangers who as good as killed him!”

Farra steps close enough that the man has to tip his head back to meet his stare. “I take issue with that lie,” he growls. Abelton would be a fool not to be cowed. He scuttles back two paces.

Ton lifts a hand. “There are witnesses to how Colm died. You saw it, Marn? Tilda stepping in — I doubt she intended other than to stop Colm beating Sophie.”

“I saw it.”

“And you?” He looks to Wilum.

“Aye. That’s what I saw. And Ely Abelton, with a lad’s blood on his fists.”

Ton considers Farra. “It’s true, what Ness said?”

“Every word, and more besides. I’d be happy to talk it over with your Council. Trade could prove beneficial, both ways.”

Abelton makes a disparaging sound, and Farra spares him a quelling look before adding an afterthought. “Though I doubt Vidya’s governors will want dealings with men who take pleasure from inflicting violence on children.” 

“Maybe it’s time we took a close look at who sits on the Council,” Wilum says.

The silence stretches taut as a kite string.

“Our first priority is to deal with Colm’s death,” Ton says at last. “It’s more than I expected when Jed came home with his tale of another stranger on the headland.” He breaks off, his eyes narrowing as he considers Wilum. The old fisherman meets his gaze, and it’s Ton who turns away. “I’m sorry Marn, but we’ll have to take Tilda with us to Dunn.”

Marn begins to get up, leaving Ty to my care.

“And the boy,” Abelton says. “He’s my property.”

“Ty’s coming with us,” I announce. “Sophie too.”

Ton shakes his head. “Sophie will have to testify at the trial. After that, she can make her own decisions. Your brother’s free to go.”

I clamber up, set to argue, but Abelton gets in first. “You’ve no right —”

“Leave it, Ely. There are more important things at stake.”

“I’ll come with you to Dunn,” Malky says, interrupting their argument. “You’ll want testimony from all of us. Marn too, and —” he looks at Wilum.

“Wilum’s the name. I’ll give testimony happily, but I can’t delay getting back. My granddaughter needs that tonic.”

His lie reminds me of Ronan and the real reason for Wilum’s visit, and my stomach constricts.

“There won’t be any delay,” Ton says. “We’ll travel together. The sooner we start, the better.” His eyes follow 
Wilum as if he intends not to let him out of his sight.

“Well.” Farra scrapes one hand across his chin. “We’ll be on our way then. But you’ve not seen the last of us.” His smile holds more threat than warmth.

“Wait,” I insist. “I’m not leaving Sophie.”

At her name, she looks up. Tears streak her face but her eyes are wide and calm.

“Leave it, Ness,” Malky says. “Sophie’s done nothing wrong. I’ll make sure she’s fairly treated. Tilda too.”

I stare at their faces, but there’ll be no convincing them, that much is clear. “I’d like a moment alone. To dress her welts,” I add.

Malky nods. “Marn, you might want to gather some of Tilda’s belongings. I’ll take Colm’s horse to fetch my cart.” He turns to Abelton. “You might come with me. It’s a job quickest done with two.”

“And who are you to give orders?” Abelton starts to bluster. Wilum takes a grip on his arm and escorts him outside. I don’t hear what he says, but whatever it is, Abelton subsides.

“Seems to me you’ve a problem on your hands there,” Farra says, to no one in particular.

“One of many,” Ton answers. Turning, he gives me — finally — a curt nod of recognition. “Ness. You seem to tow trouble with you.”

I lift my chin. “It’s more that I don’t just look the other away.”

He chews that over before replying. “Maybe that’s as it should be.” Before I can find an answer he strides to the door and is gone. 

Farra helps Ty to a chair. Tilda stares about blankly. She seems not to know what’s going on. Marn’s expression is pained as he watches, but he makes no move toward her.

“Uncle Marn.” His eyes turn slowly to mine. The depth of sadness in them nearly undoes me. I swallow. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve grown up.”

I nod.

“Was it true, that you’re a trained doctor?” His expression shifts into a sagging smile when I confirm it. “Merryn will be pleased. She always said you had a talent.”

“Come with us — you and Sophie. They can’t stop you. Or we can come back to fetch you both, after the trial.”

“You’ve a look of Bella about you,” he says. My memories of my aunt are vague, as if my childhood on Dunnett, at Leewood, is no more than a story, half forgotten. “We’ll be all right,” he adds. “You look after Ty.” His voice breaks. He looks broken himself.

Tilda has begun mumbling quietly. Marn snugs his arm around her back and steers her from the room. I turn to the sink, damping a cloth and wringing it out, fumbling on the shelf above for a salve. Once I have myself in hand, I turn. Someone has thrown a blanket over Colm.

Sophie stands. “I’ll fetch my things.” She embraces Ty and turns away. I follow her. At the foot of the stairs to the room we once shared, she turns. “It’s all right,” she says. “I can manage on my own.”

“Sophie, I … Are you sure you won’t come with us?” 

She shakes her head. “My place is with Marn.” She seems brittle as a frost star, and as pale. I want nothing more than to wrap her in my arms. The stiffness of her spine holds me back. “I’ll convince the Council to return Leewood to him, or if they decide it comes to me, as Colm promised, then I’ll gift it to Marn.”

“If they don’t, if … We will come back.”

Sophie smiles faintly. “Don’t worry about us.” Her chin lifts. “What of you, Ness? Will you be returning to your mainland?” I nod and Sophie’s eyes drift away, to Ty, then past, to the blanketed form on the floor. Confusion swells in her face. “He told me he’d take care of me. That he treasured me above all.”

When I pull her against me, her resistance is gone. She quivers like a reed as she rests in my arms, but when she steps away her eyes are dry. “Goodbye, Ness.”

I swallow. “Take care, Sophie.”

“I will,” she says, and is gone up the stairs.

Sophie climbing into the cart behind Shehan’s old draft horse, Drake, puts me in mind of another dawn departure from Leewood, but it seems so long ago it’s like a figment from a dream. With Tilda and Sophie settled, Colm’s body loaded beneath a shroud, and Marn and Wilum side by side with their legs dangling over the tailgate, Malky slaps the reins and steers the lumbering cart out of the yard.

At the last, Farra offers to accompany them. “If it would be of use, I could come to speak with the Council.”

Abelton leans sideways from the saddle to spit on the ground. Ton’s reaction is more measured. “Our first priority is to deal with Colm’s death. It would serve no purpose to confuse the issues.”

“Till next time, then. We’ve some talking to do, once you’ve sorted your immediate problems.”

Neither Councillor replies. As their horses clatter onto the road, Farra grins. “Can’t have them thinking they’ll be able to brush us under the carpet.” The cart reaches 
the turn that will take it from sight. “I only hope that Wilum knows what he’s doing. That Abelton’s a nasty piece of work.”

At my side, Ty grunts assent. A hollowness swells within me as I turn back to the house, empty of all but my childhood. When I left three years ago there’d been no time for farewells, or to gather any mementos of my past. I’ve no need of them now. The only farewell left to make is to my memories that linger still at Skellap Bay.

Despite the sun’s warmth on my back, I shudder as Farra leads us back to the shore. There’s no longer the need to creep about Dunnett in secrecy: the Council — maybe the whole of Dunnett Island — will soon enough know of our visit. Still, we’re eager to be away.

Sunlight dapples the wind-ruffled surface of the sea as Dev readies the boats. Farra turns to my brother. “That’s some nasty bruises you’ve cost yourself, and a pile of trouble you’ve caused.”

Ty lowers his head. He looks beaten, in more ways than one.

“I can understand why you wanted to help your cousin,” Farra adds. “All the more, having seen what it was she was up against. But the way you went about it: lad, you can’t just go acting on your own without a thought for the consequences.”

Even though I agree, I have to hold myself back from leaping to Ty’s defence. He stares at the sand at his feet. His injuries look not so bad now that I’ve had the chance to clean and dress them, but he’s scarcely spoken since Sophie’s departure. 

“I expect Lara will have things to say to you when we get back to
Explorer
,” Farra adds. “It was her dinghy you took.”

“Borrowed,” Ty says. “I was meaning to bring it back.”

“Aye, well. That might have proven less feasible than you’d hoped, in the circumstances.”

“Colm told me I was a fool. He said they knew where they’d find me.” He glances up, both plea and defiance in his eyes. “I had to talk to Sophie, to tell her what he was really like.”

“She found that out for herself, and better now than later.” Farra stares out to sea, his fists cocked on his hips. “Who knows how this would have ended if your aunt hadn’t taken matters into her own hands. I wouldn’t have felt happy leaving things as they were.” He turns, his gaze running back and forth between us. “Sophie might not see it the same way. It’s easy for us to think she has no cause to be grieved, but you shouldn’t underestimate the impact of something like that. She’ll be in shock.”

“Marn will take care of her,” I say. Ty stares at me, his pupils distended and dark.

Farra scrutinises him. “Are you content to be coming with us now, lad?”

I hold my breath, but Ty doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll come.”

“All right. But having made that decision, you abide by it. If you have a problem, you talk it over with Ness or with me. No more sneaking off.”

“I’m sorry,” Ty mutters.

Farra claps him on the shoulder. “You’ve a lot to learn about the way we do things in Vidya, but Ness made 
the adjustment. I’m prepared to give you the benefit of doubt on the strength of that. I suggest, though, that an apology to our captain is in order.”

Ty’s chin falls to his chest.

“Things will change with Colm gone,” I say, to hearten him.

“The chances are good,” Farra agrees, “though men like him leave a legacy that can be difficult to shift.”

“Difficult, but not impossible,” I say.

“Aye.”

A thought hits me. “Do you think it might be the same with the Paras? Flet proves they’re not all bad. Maybe there’s hope that they can change as well.”

Farra considers me. “Maybe. The history is different. Harder.” With a hand on Ty’s shoulder he directs us down the sand to where Dev is waiting, the dinghy already bobbing in the surf. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting all the world to be at peace, Ness. But let’s just take it one step at a time.”

One step. In terms of securing the potential for trade between Dunnett and Vidya, I suspect we’ve not come as far as Marta might have hoped. Nor as far as I had, in my desire to bind together all the strands of my life. Still. My eyes rest on my brother. The surfboat rocks beneath his weight as he clambers onboard.

“Just when I was growing accustomed to having something solid beneath my feet,” Farra complains.

With a final look at the sea path that leads up to Leewood, I wade into the water. Ty’s expression, beneath the bruising, is impossible to read as Dev pushes us into 
the outgoing tide.

The first time I watched Skellap Bay shrinking behind me, I felt certain I’d return. I no longer do. There’s a finality to this leaving that tells me my future lies elsewhere; that no matter what happens regarding trade, I’ve likely seen the last of Dunnett Island.

Narrowing my eyes against the glare, I scan the horizon, though it’s too soon by far to expect any sign of
Explorer
. Behind us, the dinghy trails like a goat on a lead. My brother sits silent beside me, Farra tense and straight in the prow. I glance at Dev, his whole body caught up in the rhythm of rowing. “I can take an oar if you like,” I offer.

His teeth flash. “I’ll manage,” he says. “Let me know when you see her.”

Whether it’s
Explorer
or Lara he means makes no difference. For him, I finally understand, it’s the same: Dev has found his life’s purpose. As our wake widens behind us like a skein of migrating geese, it’s not the past I’m thinking of, but Merryn’s salve.

Two days out from Dunnett, I wake to the list and lift that tells me the weather has changed for the worse. It can’t dampen my mood. When we boarded
Explorer
, Kush’s expression alone told me that Ronan was improved. When I checked his hand for myself, something wound tight within me eased off a half-turn.

I look in on my way past, but Ronan is sleeping, his bandaged hand flung out from his bunk. He doesn’t stir as I lift his arm back to the bed. I watch for a moment before closing the door gently behind me. Sleep is what Ronan needs most.

On deck Malik turns from his task of adjusting the sails. “All right there, Ness?”

“Fine,” I say, squeezing myself thin against the rail to stay out of his way.

The sea is slate-dark, broken into ranks of rolling waves that split with an angry hiss as we belly against them. “I can’t say the same of your brother,” he says, tilting his head aft. 

Ty is sitting in a miserable huddle, his face whiter than sea foam. I fetch a jacket and a measure of Kush’s seasickness medicine.

“I can’t keep it down.” Dark shadows underscore his eyes, stark against his blanched face.

“Try. It’ll help.”

He does as I bid, with bad grace. I settle beside him. “It gets easier,” I promise. “My first storm was the worst, but it troubles me less now.”

“I don’t see how anyone can get used to this.” His eyes are closed, his hands hanging limp between his bent knees.

“People seem able to get used to most things.”

“Is it true, what you told Ton, about being a doctor?”

“A medic is what we call it in Vidya, but yes.”

“You didn’t tell me in Dunn.”

I struggle to dredge our conversation up in my mind. It feels months ago, not days, and it grieves me that I’ve not found time before now to sit and talk with him. I take a breath and begin. “The mainland is completely different to Dunnett,” I tell him. I don’t know whether he’s listening. “It was hard at first: I didn’t feel like I belonged. I still don’t, at times. But there’s so much to learn, Ty.”

Slowly, like a ribbon unravelling, I tell my brother about my life, about Vidya; about Ebony Hill and Truso, about the Paras’ attack and Ronan. Ty sits silent throughout, even when I tell him about Esha’s death, and Rys dying in my arms, and Hetti.

“I’m not sure whether I’ll go back to the farms or stay 
in Vidya,” I say finally, as I come to the end. “Brenon asked me to join the Scouts, but I don’t want to. I want to be a medic in the way Merryn is, looking after sprained limbs and children’s coughs. I don’t want to deal with carnage.” I stop, uncomfortably aware that I may not be doing a good job of convincing my brother that he’s made the right decision, coming with us.

He shifts beside me. “I thought you were the lucky one,” he says at last. “That it had been easy for you, but it hasn’t, has it Ness?” He rolls his head to look at me.

“Maybe there isn’t an easy way. There’s just the way you choose.”

“Or that others choose for you.”

We’ve both made our own course from the path that Colm pushed us to. I doubt that any of it turned out as he planned. “Wherever I end up working, Ty, I want you to come with me. I’m not leaving you on your own.”

“The way we left Sophie.”

A hard scatter of raindrops slaps against us. I sit without moving, the rain like tears on my skin.

“Before Colm and Abelton arrived at Leewood, I tried to talk her into coming with us,” Ty says. “She wouldn’t listen. She didn’t want to hear the reasons she shouldn’t marry Colm.” His hands jerk, tension in every sinew of him.

“She didn’t think she had any alternative,” I say. Sophie knew what Colm was like, whatever he might have done to convince her otherwise. I lean my shoulder against his. “She’ll be all right. She has Marn beside her, and Wilum. Sophie’s not done anything wrong, Ty. The 
Council can’t claim that she has.”

“I shouldn’t have gone to Leewood.”

“If you hadn’t, Sophie would be worse off by far. Sophie and Dunnett.”

He looks no less miserable. “And Tilda?”

“She has allies. You heard Malky and Ton — it was you who told me years ago that Ton wasn’t so bad.”

The smallest of smiles hastens across Ty’s face. “After you left, Ton was the only Councillor who spoke out for Marn. Not for you: he said you were trouble. But he argued for leniency for Sophie and me.”

“Tilda will get a fair trial.”

“Not from Abelton.”

“Abelton won’t last. Things will change now, Ty. They’ll have to. Wilum will make sure of it.”

Silence expands around us like ripples in a pond. My brother, beside me, feels fragile within his lanky frame.

“Did Sophie say anything to you before we left?” he finally asks.

“Just … nothing much.”

“When I helped her onto the cart, she told me not to worry about her.” Our eyes meet. “She seemed calm about the way things turned out.”

I nod, remembering Sophie in a crisis.

“She told me she was proud of you,” he says. I blink.

Another scatter of rain finds us and I squint up at the sky. It’ll get worse before it gets better. “Let’s go inside,” I say, scrambling to my feet. “There’s more rain coming.”

We lurch our way to the main cabin and stagger through the door. “You must be frozen,” Lara greets us, 
pushing a hot mug into my hands. “How about you, Ty? How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Ty says.

I squeeze rain from my hair. “Me too,” I say.

The storm has blown past us by the end of the day. Lara pours over her charts, making no effort to hide her enthusiasm for leaving Dunnett behind. “I hadn’t planned to take us this far north, but since we’re here, we might as well make the most of the opportunity to extend our data. We’ll take a test catch every day; two if we can manage it. Malik, you better see if you can get that storm gib mended. We’re likely to need it again before we get home.”

Farra groans. Dev, busy taking measurements on the chart spread across the table, looks up with a grin. I share Farra’s reluctance. The ship’s motion doesn’t trouble me as much as it does my brother, but I feel ill at ease sailing beyond sight of land.

To busy myself, I head for the galley. Cooking helps me feel less redundant now that our mission to Dunnett is done. Lara looks up as I sort through our stores. “We’ll miss you on our next trip, Ness. That fish you cooked yesterday was delicious.”

Fish fillets, fish soup, fish stew, fish fritters. “Do you ever get sick of it?” I ask.

She grins. “I can hardly admit to that when I’m busy promoting it in Vidya.”

“Admit to what?” Kush asks, as he joins us in the cabin. “I’ve been crewing with you for years, and I’ve 
never known you admit to anything.” He slings his
rain-jacket
over a peg. “Ness, when you’ve a moment you might pay Ronan a visit. It’s a good sign that he’s restless, but it’s better he takes things slowly.”

I set the onion I’m holding back in its sack.

“The infection is under control?” Lara asks.

“Thanks to Merryn’s salve,” Kush says, sliding into a seat. “I’d give a lot to learn exactly how she makes it. In fact, it would be good to know more about the toxin as well as the antidote. We may have a similar strain on the mainland.” I rinse out my mug, spreading the towel to dry on its rail. “Merryn’s preparations should be high on the list of items we aim to trade, perhaps for some of our own medicines that the island doesn’t have,” Kush adds.

“Talk to the governors when we get back.” Lara dismisses the topic. Having fulfilled the mission she was tasked with, her focus has shifted to her fishery research. I don’t hold it against her.

“I’ll start on dinner later,” I say.

“I’ll cook,” Kush offers. “Take some time off, Ness. I’m sure Ronan would appreciate the company.”

As I head for the door I notice my brother considering me speculatively. It only deepens the colour that rises in my cheeks.

Ronan is standing by the bunk, his good hand
outstretched
to the wall. He looks rueful when he sees me. “Kush told me I wasn’t to try getting up till tomorrow.”

I raise my brows.

“I didn’t believe him when he told me I’d be weak.” 

“But you do now?” I reach past to straighten the blankets. “Kush is right about rest, you know. Your body burned up the bulk of its resources fighting the infection. It’ll take time to get your strength back.”

Ronan lowers himself onto the bed. “I can barely walk across the room.” I reach for his wrist and check his pulse. “How’s your brother?”

“Better.” There’s a world of things tied up in that word. “His bruises are healing, and the worst of the seasickness has passed.”

“Kush told me he was suffering. I mostly slept.” He turns his bandaged hand palm upward. “Ness, I’ve been wanting to thank you for saving my arm.”

“It was Wilum who fetched the salve.”

“Because you asked him to.” He looks at me square.

“If it had come down to your arm or your life, I’d have supported Kush’s decision to amputate, but I knew the salve would work, if we could only get it in time.”

“I appreciate it.”

The room feels suddenly warm. I turn to the shelves where Kush keeps his supplies. I don’t know why I should find tears prickling in my eyes. Perhaps it’s relief, that Ronan is safe, and Ty too. I feel brittle as driftwood,
salt-bleached
and hollow.

As soon as I remove the dressing from Ronan’s hand I can tell that Kush has only just changed it, but I continue as if I don’t notice, cleaning the wound and applying fresh salve. The gash is healing well, the redness that marked the infection reduced to a faint smudge that runs only as far as his wrist. 

“There’ll be some scar tissue, but it shouldn’t prove too much of a liability,” I tell him. “You were lucky there was no damage to the ligaments of your hand.” I place a pad of gauze over the wound and gently re-bind it.

With his good hand, Ronan tucks a strand of my hair that’s fallen loose behind my ear. Startled, I look up.

“Are you all right, Ness?”

I let out a little puff of breath. “I’m fine. I’m a bit tired, that’s all.”

His finger brushes my cheek.

I’m not ready for whatever else it might be that Ronan wants to say. I stand up. “You should get some sleep. And tomorrow, you might like to get up on deck for some fresh air.”

“I’ll do that.”

There seems nothing more to say. “Goodnight, then.” Before I can let myself think, I lean forward and brush my lips against his. It startles me more than him. Without waiting for his reaction I hurry from the cabin, blood beating hot in my face.

The deck is empty except for Malik at the wheel. I wrap my fingers around the ship’s rail, welcoming the evening’s chill air. The sky is a wash of pale orange, the sea indigo beneath it. I take a breath and hold it. Dunnett is behind us, and who knows what lies ahead. For the first time since I left Ebony Hill a year ago, I find within myself a freedom that lets me welcome that unknowing.