The Voyage to Magical North (14 page)

Ewan nodded. “She didn't want us loading you with extra work. Though if I'd known what you were doing, I'd have had you scrubbing the deck until you were too tired to think. What were you talking to him about, anyway?”

Progress. Evolution. The fact that Marfak West might have been trying to do something good after all. “Nothing,” said Peter. Nothing that Ewan would understand. “Don't worry,” he said. “I'll stay away from him.”

“Good man.”

But as Peter climbed the ladder, Marfak West's voice echoed between his ears.
Interesting choice of disguise.

It wasn't interesting at all. Peter knew he'd only picked it because he had no imagination, because he could only picture something if he knew what it looked like, and Marfak West had been sitting right in front of him. It was natural to go for the only thing he could see. He didn't want to be Marfak West. He didn't even want to be like him. Not one bit.

*   *   *

“This island is one big lie,” said Brine. “All your rules, all your talk of truth, and you're all liars.” She barely registered the book in Ursula's hands or the fact that Cassie had her sword halfway out. “It was right in front of me, and I almost didn't see it. Tom Girl is what you call a girl who acts like a boy. You were expecting a baby when you came to Barnard's Reach, weren't you? Only they don't allow men on the island. Or boys—not even baby boys.”

“Brine,” Cassie began, “this really isn't the right time—”

Brine shook her head. “Just look at Tom Girl. Look at her.… Look at
him.”

The room fell silent so fast it was like someone had turned a switch. Everyone stared. Tom Girl turned scarlet.

Ursula sat back down. She looked like she was about to crumble away. “I had no choice,” she whispered tremblingly. “I needed somewhere to go. I came here, and the Sisters took me in. I was sure my baby was going to be a girl. When Tom Girl—” She faltered. “When Tom was born, I loved him from the moment he opened his eyes. I couldn't abandon him, and yet I couldn't keep him.” She paused and drew in a shuddering breath. “I did the only thing I could. I pretended that Tom was a girl. I raised my son as a daughter.”

 

C
HAPTER
16

Barnard's Reach began as a single collection of books put together by a merchants' guild. The written word, however, has a power of its own, and soon the guild established the first library collection with the purpose of collecting and storing knowledge from all over the world. Without knowledge, we cannot take our next step in this world.

(
From
THE
RULES
AND
REGULATIONS
OF
BARNARD
'
S
REACH,
VOLUME
3:
HISTORY)

For what seemed like an age, nobody spoke. Tom Girl retreated into her—no, into his—robe until Brine could see only the tip of his nose poking out. “You must have known,” said Brine. “You couldn't not know a thing like that. There are differences.” She felt herself blushing. “Obvious differences.”

Tom bobbed his head. “Of course I knew.” He shot an apologetic glance at Ursula. “Sorry, Mum, but we live on an island full of books. With pictures. It wasn't that hard to work out.”

Ursula turned pale. “You never said.”

“Of course I didn't. I know the rules. And everyone else kept pretending, so it was easier to go along with it. I knew it would get sorted out one day.”

Ursula walked to Tom and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “The stories are true about you, Cassie O'Pia: You always bring trouble. Take your friends and leave.”

“Will you give us Boswell's book if we go?” asked Cassie.

“No,” said Ursula, Tom, and Brine all at the same time.

“You can't take books out of the library,” said Ursula. “It's the rules.”

“Never mind the book!” shouted Brine. “We're not leaving without Tom.” Belatedly, she registered what Cassie had said. “That's
Boswell's
book on the table?”

“The book won't do you any good,” said Ursula. “Only I can read it.”

Tom bit his lip. “I can read it.”

And there was the answer, shining in front of them. Some people would have loved to live in a library, but Tom was quite obviously not one of them. Clumsy, loud, and stupid, he'd said—but it wasn't because he was a boy. It was because you had to walk silently here, careful not to disturb a single book. Maybe he'd find he didn't belong on the
Onion
, either, but at least he'd have the chance to find out. A chance was better than nothing.

Ursula tightened her grip on Tom until she was in danger of choking him. Tom said nothing, but his eyes behind his spectacles were wide with longing.

Cassie cleared her throat. “Brine, the
Onion
is a pirate ship, not a playground. I wasn't planning on filling it with children.”

“You said you never plan,” said Brine. “You wait to see what happens. Well, this has happened. What are we going to do about it?” Her heart beat hard. “Tom can read Boswell's book for us. And he can write up the voyage—the whole story of how we sailed to Magical North and back. Someone once told me not many people get to have stories like ours. What's the point of having a good story if no one gets to hear it?”

Cassie frowned, her gaze becoming thoughtful. Then she smiled her bright, familiar smile, and Brine relaxed.

Cassie sat down on the edge of the table. “Speaking of stories, Brine, did you know that many centuries ago, men and women lived on Barnard's Reach together? They were famous as explorers and adventurers. Then it all stopped.”

Ursula tightened her lips, her arms still tight around Tom. “A Book Sister's duty lies in the library, not in the world.”

“The reason was seasickness,” said Cassie. “Their Head Collector of Manuscripts had it so bad she threw up if she even saw a boat. Rather than just admit it and stay behind while other people went exploring, she decided everybody should stay on the island and extend the libraries. And because some of the men refused to destroy their ships, she sent them all away. All the book collectors became book keepers. The Head Collector destroyed all the records so nobody else would know, but I know. Because four hundred years ago, the
Onion
belonged to Barnard's Reach. It was one of the ships that wasn't destroyed. The story has been handed down with her. That's the secret of these libraries—one woman with more stubbornness than sense.”

Tom wriggled. “Mum, please.”

“This is your home,” said Ursula. “You don't even know these people.”

Tom flicked a glance at Brine. “You don't have to know someone long to know what they're like. Brine saw who I was right away.”

Ursula released him and pulled a cord by one of the shelves. “If you leave Barnard's Reach, you won't ever be allowed back, you know. Do you really want that? You need to forget all this nonsense. Captain O'Pia, you will be escorted out now. Please leave quietly.”

Brine heard footsteps outside. Quiet footsteps, but lots of them. Then the door opened and Book Sisters crowded in. Some of them held swords. They gripped them stiffly, as if they'd learned how to fight by reading about it.

Ten librarians against two pirates. Brine hoped Cassie and Trudi wouldn't hurt them too badly. But then the ranks of Book Sisters parted and another woman walked into the room. She was dressed in a library robe like the others, but while everyone else walked almost silently, her shoes had heels that clicked on the floor. Brine fought the urge to stand up straight and push her hair back neatly.

Ursula took a step back. “Mother Keeper, I was just—”

“Be silent,” snapped the Mother Keeper. She folded the hood of her robe back with thin hands. She had a sharp and pale face, framed with yellow hair, and her lips, painted pink for some reason, were set in an angry line. “These people don't have a proper appointment. They should never have been allowed in. Take your daughter and go to your room. I'll deal with them.”

Ursula bit her lip. Brine could see the struggle in her face. If she obeyed the Mother Keeper, she'd have to keep the lie going forever. But if she told the truth now, she'd lose Tom, maybe forever.

“Come on, Tom Girl,” whispered Ursula.

“Stop!” shouted Brine. Her voice surprised everyone, including herself. The Mother Keeper's sharp frown told her she ought to keep out of this, and she almost agreed.

Almost, but not quite. She snatched Boswell's book from the table where it lay and held it up by the corners. “We're leaving,” she said, “and Tom's coming with us. Stand aside, or the book gets it.”

Books: the one thing the librarians cared about more than the rules. Cassie gave a grunt that sounded suspiciously like laughter. Brine took a step toward the door, and the Sisters edged back from her.

The Mother Keeper stopped her. “Yes, destroy the book,” she whispered. Her voice was as thin as a paper cut. “Aldebran Boswell's last journal. The record of his voyage to Magical North, and there is only one copy in the whole world. Rip it up, then. Tear out the pages. Destroy that piece of knowledge forever.”

Brine looked down at the book. Boswell's name was on the front cover. Inside, thin scrawling handwriting, almost unreadable, and drawings of maps covered the pages.

Her hands trembled. Boswell's own book, in his own writing. Cassie gave her an encouraging smile; Trudi just looked confused. Tom met her gaze, and she saw the hope die in him. He nodded slightly to show he understood. He wouldn't have been able to damage a book, either, especially not that one.

Brine shut her eyes and tore out the first page. The thin paper came away with a little stab of sound that echoed the sudden pain at the back of her throat.

The Mother Keeper screeched. Brine held up the severed page. “There are plenty more where this came from. Shall I go on?”

“Get back,” the Mother Keeper whispered to the Sisters. Slowly, they sheathed their swords and shuffled away from the door. Brine gripped Boswell's book on either side of the spine.

“We're leaving,” she said. “If you try to stop us, this book is confetti. Tom, if you want to come, you have to come now.”

She walked through the door between the murderous gazes of the Book Sisters, with Cassie and Trudi on either side of her. Tom hopped from foot to foot in a fury of indecision. Then, as the door started to close, he squeaked, “Sorry, Mum,” and dashed through after them.

*   *   *

They clattered up the stairs, Brine walking backward and holding Boswell's journal up by the corners. It seemed to grow heavier by the second, so that her arms were trembling by the time they reached the iron door at the top. She stepped through backward into sunlight and lowered her hands with a moan of relief. She couldn't believe what she'd just done.

“That made for a change,” said Trudi cheerfully. “Cassie trying to talk us out of trouble, and Brine resorting to violence.”

Brine felt empty inside, as if she'd torn something out of herself along with the book. She slid the ripped-out page back inside the cover and handed it to Tom. “You can mend it, can't you?”

He nodded, his eyes wide. “No one's ever threatened a book for me before.”

Brine smiled back, feeling better.

“Well,” said Cassie, “that could have been worse.” She looked a little queasy as she gazed down the steep cliff path to the boat. Trudi set off first, and Cassie followed. Tom came last, dragging his feet now that the chance to leave the island had become a reality.

They reached the bottom, and Cassie let out a long breath that sounded like she'd been holding it all the way down. “I'm sure your mother meant well,” she said. “She only wanted what was best for you.”

Tom shrugged. “It doesn't really matter now,” he said in a tight little voice. “I doubt I'll ever see her again.” He lifted his glasses to rub his hand across his eyes and sniffed.

Cassie gazed into the distance, watching the birds circle over the cliff. A few minutes ago, they'd been hurrying to get away, yet long minutes passed and still Cassie didn't move. Brine wondered what she was looking at and then she spotted a figure high above them and she understood.

“Well,” began Cassie at last, “let's—”

“Tom!”

It was a real, actual shout. The call echoed off the cliffs, sending birds screeching for cover. Ursula ran down the cliff path awkwardly, partly because her robe kept wrapping around her legs and partly because she was clutching several objects to her chest with both arms. She slid to a halt at the bottom and thrust them at Tom. A birdcage containing a pair of black and white gulls and a bag large enough to hold several books—and judging by the corners that pushed through the cloth, that's exactly what it did hold.

“I've brought your things,” she said. “And messenger gulls, in case you want to write home.”

Tom flung his arms around her. Cassie put her hand on Brine's shoulder and steered her off to wait by the boat.

“Thank you,” said Brine.

“For what?”

“For this.” She felt her eyes prickling as she looked at Tom and Ursula. Nobody on Minutes would have hugged Brine good-bye. Only Tallis Magus and Penn Turbill knew she'd left, and they wouldn't care for long. Cassie was the first person she'd met who'd really cared about anyone. “And for everything else, too,” Brine added. “Even though you tried to sell me and Peter. You meant well.”

“I usually do,” said Cassie. “That's the problem.” But she looked a bit misty-eyed.

Ursula drew away, then hugged Tom once more and ran back up the path. He stood and watched her go. When she'd reached the top, he straightened his shoulders, pushed back the hood of his robe, and gathered up his things. He walked to the boat and clambered in, holding the birdcage in front of him like a shield.