Icebreaker (21 page)

“I expect,” said First Officer Crab from somewhere up ahead, “that Albie will have the lectrics fixed within the hour, once the stranger is gone. Once this
untidiness
is rectified.”

The man who carried Petrel growled his agreement.

Not likely,
thought Petrel.
If Albie says it's a couple of days, then it's a couple of days, and chucking us overboard ain't going to make a scrap of difference.

But although her mouth was now free, she didn't waste her breath arguing with Crab. She'd only be able to get a few words out before she was gagged again, and she must make every one of them count.

She waited a few seconds more, trying not to tense up and give herself away. She licked her dry lips. Drew cold air into her lungs.

Then she shouted at the top of her voice. “Mister Smoke, there's a strange ship out there, wants to hurt the
Oyster
! And they're throwing me and Fin overboard! They think we murdered Orca but 'twas Crab—”

A hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her. Crab raced back down the ladderway, crying, “Shut her up! Why are you letting her talk such nonsense? Make sure her gag's tight this time.”

Then he climbed back to the head of the procession, muttering, “We are tidying things that should never have been untidied in the first place.”

The rest of the climb to the afterdeck was without incident. Petrel wondered desperately if Dolph believed her. She wondered if Mister Smoke or Missus Slink would come.

Probably not.

Her fear grew.

The afterdeck, when they stepped out onto it, was dark and cold. Fog crept over the ship like a gray blanket, and although there was a moon, its light came fitfully. High in the rigging, the wind fiddles played a mournful dirge.

Crab coughed and his breath froze on his beard. “The quicker this is done, the better.” He turned to the woman who had brought the rope.

“Wait,” said Dolph. “Why does she keep saying you killed Mam? Why would she say that?”

“She would accuse anyone to avoid punishment,” said Crab. “A person would have to be mad to listen to her.” He raised his voice. “However I am not a cruel man and will not send them to a lingering death. Remove their outdoor clothes so they will die quickly. Then lower them onto the ice.”

Petrel trembled and tried not to think about what was coming. Beside her, Fin's eyes were white-rimmed with horror.

The woman with the rope unslung it from her shoulders. “Quickly now,” said Crab, and Petrel's captor pulled Petrel's sealskin jacket and trousers off, leaving her in her ship clothes. Then he dragged her forward so that the end of the rope could be tied under her arms.

Petrel was shaking so much that she could hardly stand. She tried to loosen her gag again so she could cry out for mercy. She rolled her eyes at Dolph, and silently screamed,
'Twasn't us! Crab's the one who killed your mam, not us!

Dolph looked uncertainly at Crab, but said nothing. The rope tightened around Petrel's chest and she found herself suddenly lifted off the deck and dropped over the rail.

She grunted with the shock of it, and grabbed hold of the rope. She had never in her entire life been off the
Oyster,
never felt anything under her feet but the reassuring safety of the deck or the ladders or the nets.

Now there was nothing. She swayed in midair for a sickening moment—and began to fall.

At first she thought they had decided to drop her. But then her descent slowed and she clung grimly to the rope, knowing that she was going to die soon, but not willing to have it happen just yet. The great bulk of the
Oyster
rose and rose above her, and she wished she could reach out and touch it, but the angle of the hull was too far away.

When her feet hit the ice, she stumbled and skidded.
It's just like the afterdeck,
she told herself.
You have to be careful.

With fingers made clumsy by the cold, she undid the knot around her chest and watched the rope snake upward into the grayness. She took the gag out of her mouth and wrapped it around her right hand for what little warmth it could give her. Then she walked gingerly across to where the
Oyster
's battered hull disappeared into the ice, and stared at it, with tears turning to frost on her face.

It seemed like forever before the rope swung down again with Fin on the end of it. The bitter cold was galloping into Petrel's bones, and her ship clothes felt as if they gave her no more protection than paper. She began to wonder if perhaps Crab had changed his mind about the boy, and she was going to be left all alone down here.

“Wouldn't matter a-anyway,” she whispered, shivering. “I'll b-be dead before I know it. Having a bit of company won't make any d-d-difference.”

But it would. She knew it would. And when she saw Fin's legs dangling above her she cried out with relief, and was ashamed, because now he was going to die too, and she shouldn't be glad about it.

Still, she
was
glad. “Better than being alone,” she said fiercely, as she undid the rope.

Fin swallowed and nodded. And as the rope slid upward, out of their reach, he wrapped his arms around Petrel and they clung to each other.

 

CHAPTER 22

AN ARMY OF MEN

The ice beneath Fin's feet groaned and his teeth chattered uncontrollably.
I am going to die,
he thought,
and it is probably just as well. Because when Brother Thrawn discovers that I have failed to carry out my mission, my life will not be worth living.

He still found it hard to believe that things had gone so completely wrong. He had tried and tried, but the ship had defeated him. The ship—and Petrel.

It was not her fault, he knew that. All along, she had merely done what she thought was right, just as he had. She had fought for her ship, while he had fought against it.

He was glad she was here with him now. He was glad she would never know how close he had come to betraying her.

As his shivering grew worse, he wondered what would happen next. Would Brother Thrawn and the Devouts come storming across the ice, thinking that the demon was dead? Would they find Fin and Petrel before it was too late? He hoped—

Actually, he was no longer sure what he hoped.

He looked up at the hull of ship, rising so enormously above them. “Nothing c-can save us now, can it?”

“Not unless Crab changes his m-mind,” said Petrel, “which ain't going to happen.”

“Is the ice strong enough to hold us? Will it c-crack under our feet?”

“I r-reckon it's strong enough. It f-froze up quick and solid like it d-does sometimes. We'd have fallen through already if we were going to.”

“Oh … We are f-friends, are we not?”

In answer, Petrel hugged him tighter. Then she said, in his ear, “T-tell me about your m-mam and da.”

Fin pulled back a little way and stared at her. “W-what?”

“I d-don't want to think about what's coming. I'd think about m-
my
mam and da if I could, but I don't remember 'em. T-tell me about yours. What're they like?”

“M-my father died before I was b-born,” said Fin. “My mother—” He broke off, as a far-too-thin face swam out of the recesses of his memory and placed itself firmly in front of him. His heart ached, but for the first time in years he did not try to push the face away.

“M-my mother—” he said, and stopped again.

“Better t-talk quick,” said Petrel, “'cos the blood's f-freezing in my veins already.”

“I h-have not thought about her for a l-long time.”

“'Cept when you were feverish. Then you c-called her
Mama.
”

“I d-did?”

Petrel nodded.

“I—” said Fin. “I—”

“Was she k-kindhearted?”

“Yes.”

“Did she l-love you?”

“Y-yes. But when I was three years old, she t-took me to the Citadel and g-gave me to the Brothers, so I w-would not starve.” Fin's voice cracked. “I d-did not want to go.”

He remembered how frantically he had cried and screamed and kicked. In the end, Brother Thrawn had locked him in the punishment hole, and left him there with the rats until he learned to be obedient.

“These B-Brothers,” said Petrel. “They the ones on the other ship? The ones who w-want to kill us?”

“Yes,” said Fin.

Petrel peered around uneasily. “We'll fight 'em if they c-come. Here, move around a b-bit.” And she jumped up and down on the spot.

Fin jigged from foot to foot, though it made no difference to how cold he was.

“Why do the B-Brothers hate us so much?” asked Petrel.

Fin did not want to talk about the demon, so he merely said, “B-because of the machines. They are v-vile contraptions that make p-people lazy. They can s-steal a person's soul. They must be d-destroyed—”

He paused, hearing his own voice as if for the first time. What he had just said did not make sense. He had been on the ship, surrounded by machines, for days. And had they stolen his soul, even when he was sick and helpless? Had they done
anything
other than drive the ship and keep the crew warm?

He was not sure. Perhaps his soul
had
been stolen. Perhaps that was why he was so confused.

“What h-happened to your mam?” asked Petrel. “After she g-gave you to the Brothers.”

“I-I do not know. I think she probably d-died.”

“Maybe she d-d-didn't. Maybe she just went off to another—another d-deck or something. Maybe we could g-go and find her. When we g-get off the ice.”

Fin nodded, though they both knew they would never get off the ice. Death was rushing towards them, and nothing could stop it. “We—”

Petrel raised her hand. “Shhh! I heard something.”

“What?”

“I don't know—
Look! Up there!
”

A spark of hope flared in Fin's heart. A
third
person was being lowered on the rope. “Have they sent someone t-to rescue us?”

Petrel sighed as the figure kicked and struggled all the way down. “No such luck. It's D-Dolph. Look, she's all tied up.”

The older girl's feet skidded on the ice, and Fin ran to untie her. As soon as he had freed her hands, Dolph tore out her gag, tipped her head back, and screamed at the ship, “You grease-nosed fish carcass! I'm going to k-kill you, Crab! I'm going to cut out your l-liver and feed it to the Maw! Coward! T-traitor!”

The rope slid upwards. Fin could have warmed his fingers on Dolph's rage, it burned so hot.

“Murderer!” she shrieked. “I'll use you as t-toothy bait. I'll— I'll—”

“Save your b-breath. He's gone,” said Petrel.

Dolph snarled at her. “This is all your fault, rat-girl. You're the one who k-kept saying it was him murdered M-Mam. He must've thought I believed you, 'c-cos he waited till everyone else had gone b-back inside, then he grabbed me.” She glared upwards again and shouted, “Soup-brain! P-penguin-breath!”

The breeze had gone and the wind fiddles were silent. Fin rubbed his face. He was feeling dreadfully tired.

“I'm going to get you, C-Crab,” shouted Dolph. “Either me—or my g-ghost, we're going to—”

There was a flurry in the air above her, and something fell onto the ice. Fin stared in disbelief, wondering if the cold was making him see things that were not there.

“It's our j-jackets!” cried Petrel. “And t-t-t-t-trousers!”

Dolph pounced on her own outdoor clothes and began to pull them on with frantic haste. Petrel and Fin had been longer on the ice, and were slower to move. But in the end, helping each other all the way, they managed to drag the trousers and jackets over their freezing limbs, and put their mittens on, and their hoods and ice masks as well.

It was only when they were fully dressed, and the cold no longer chewed quite so ferociously at their bones, that Petrel shouted, “Who's up there? Is that you, Squid?”

The only answer was a slither of noise. Fin leaped back, just as the end of a rope hissed down the side of the ship and hung quivering in the night air.

“It's Squid,” cried Petrel. “Or K-Krill!”

“It's for m-me, not you,” muttered Dolph, and she grabbed the rope and began to climb.

“Dolph, wait,” said Petrel.

The older girl ignored her. But she could not ignore the weakness that the cold had already drilled into her limbs. She managed to climb to a point just above Fin's head—and there she stuck, grinding her teeth and snarling.

A small gray body slid down the rope towards her, one of its legs sticking out to the side.

An imp!
thought Fin.

“It's Mister Smoke,” cried Petrel. “Dolph, g-get off.”

Dolph didn't move. She stared at the rope as if she could climb it by sheer force of will. The imp crawled over the top of her and dropped onto the ice.

Fin's heart was bumping against his ribs. But Petrel fell onto her knees beside the imp and whispered, “You heard me sing out!”

“I
saw
you, shipmate,” said the imp in a rough voice. “Right back when they grabbed you. Me and Slink've been busy ever since. We're takin' you elsewhere as soon as reinforcements arrive.”

“The rat talks,” muttered Dolph, still clinging to the rope.

Petrel ignored her. “Where are you taking us, Mister Smoke? There's nowhere 'cept the ship.”

“And the rat-girl talks back,” muttered Dolph. “I should've guessed.”

The imp looked up. “'Ere they come.”

Fin followed his gaze and cried out in disgust. Dolph sprang away from the rope as if it were on fire. Down its length swarmed countless numbers of black rats, leaping and jumping over one another, running across each other's backs and dropping onto the ice in a squeaking, writhing mass.