THE FLAMES LEAPED up high, sending sparks dancing into the night sky. Tabitha gazed into the fire, holding her hands out for the warmth. She was dimly aware of the feasting, drinking, singing and dancing going on around her, but no more than that.
It had taken an hour for her clothes to dry out after the battle. Now they were stiff and uncomfortable, encrusted with sea salt. Not that Tabitha cared. There was so much more to think about. Old Jon. Pallione. And Joseph.
He was an idiot for believing Jeb the Snitch. And even more of an idiot for trying to help him. But when she remembered what she’d said in the warehouse, she felt horribly guilty. I’d be better off on my own. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t really meant it. Surely he knew that. It was obvious, wasn’t it?
A large man strolled round the edge of the fire towards her, half in shadow. The orange glow lit up Newton’s shaven head and the shark tattoo on his cheek. He sat down on the sand next to her, reached out to ruffle her hair, then remembered she didn’t like that and let his hand drop. They gazed into the fire together.
Tabitha stole a glance at him. It was only now they were together again that she realized how much she’d missed him. He wasn’t her father. Never was, never would be. But he was the closest thing she had.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘About Old Jon.’
Newton nodded. ‘Aye.’
‘You knew him for a long time, didn’t you?’
‘A long time. Not long enough.’
Tabitha didn’t know what to say to that, so she went back to staring into the fire. She felt so safe with Newton by her side. After all that had happened, she would have liked him to put his arms around her and hold her, like when she was little. Of course, if he had done that, she’d have squirmed away and told him off for treating her like a baby. But still.
She hugged her knees up close and scanned the ocean, trying to spot the flash of merfolk tails among the moonlit waves. But they’d all gone. Disappeared almost as soon as the fighting was over, taking their dead with them. It made all this celebration seem hollow, Tabitha reckoned. After all, it was Pallione who’d really won the battle.
Pallione. The Queen of the Merfolk.
‘I still don’t understand,’ she said out loud. ‘Why did she help us? After everything that happened?’
Newton didn’t reply. Tabitha glanced at him and saw that he was looking uneasy, rubbing at the red marks around his wrists. Clearly he had something on his mind.
‘Tabs,’ he said at last. ‘Something’s up with Joseph. Do you know what it is?’
Tabitha shrugged.
He turned to her with that expression on his face – the earnest look that showed he was trying to act like a good father but didn’t have a clue what he was doing.
‘Thing is, Tabs, friends are worth hanging on to.’
‘I know. What do you—?’
‘And I think, right now, Joseph needs somebody to talk to.’
Tabitha was about to argue, but then for some reason Old Jon came into her mind. Old Jon and Newton sitting in the corner of Bootles’ Pie Shop while the others played triominoes, just sitting together and smoking. Not even saying a word to each other, but content. From now on, when Newton smoked in the corner of the pie shop, he’d be smoking alone.
She got to her feet, using his shoulder to steady herself.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll go.’
‘… and if I never eat fried fish again, it’ll be too soon!’ finished Frank. The others around the fire laughed, and Joseph smiled along with them. It helped, somehow, having all this energy and happiness around him. Helped him think, without anyone noticing that something was wrong.
The Fayters all seemed so relaxed, as if this was over. But for him it wasn’t. He remembered his last sight of Jeb the Snitch, snarling and pointing a pistol at them. That last threat too. What about your father, boy? You’ll never see him again. If there was even a chance that Jeb meant to hurt his father …
Pallione’s face came to him, her white hair slicked back and dripping with water as she sat hunched on the raft, telling him how the King had died to save her life. Always do the right thing, she’d told him.
At last he was starting to see what the right thing was.
Joseph looked around at his friends and noticed Hal, sitting cross-legged on the sand next to him, cradling the wooden spoon and frowning through his spectacles at it.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘For saving us on that wavecutter.’
Hal flinched and looked up, as if he’d just been woken from a deep sleep.
‘Oh. You’re welcome.’
‘How does it work? The wooden spoon, I mean.’
Hal’s whole face lit up, as if he’d been waiting for someone to ask him that.
‘It’s a question of mental focus,’ he said. ‘Very little more than that. That’s the genius of it. Most wands require a kind of specific thought process achievable only by the most talented of magicians. Or a verbal trigger to unlock the wand’s potential. But in the case of this wooden spoon none of that is needed. You merely have to be in contact with the wand, with a clear line of sight to the target, then concentrate on your intention to take control of their mind. Extremely sophisticated.’
Joseph frowned at the wand as Hal held it up. Half of the spoon lay in shadow from the fire; the other half glowed orange.
‘Are you saying you don’t even have to be a magician?’
Hal frowned. ‘It would be unwise for a layman to use it. Only magicians have the necessary mental focus and—’
‘But you wouldn’t have to be.’
‘Well. Technically, I suppose not. Although it could be highly dangerous if used incorrectly. I read about wands like this when I was studying at the Azurmouth Academy, but I had no idea there were enchanters still capable of creating them.’
‘And if you take control of a person’s mind, you can make them do anything you want?’
‘Naturally. That’s what mind control is.’
‘So you could make them tell you something they didn’t want to tell you?’
Hal’s eyes darted from the spoon to Joseph’s face, narrowing slightly.
‘I suppose so. Why do you ask?’
‘Just wondering.’
The magician relaxed and turned his attention back to the wand. At this angle his spectacles were two solid orange discs in the firelight.
‘Well, I’m glad. No one else in the Watch has an appreciation for the art of magic. Except Newt. And he doesn’t talk about it much.’
‘No,’ said Joseph absently.
You could make them tell you something they didn’t want to tell you.
‘Hey.’
They both turned at the voice. Tabitha was standing there, her face lit up from below so that strange shadows danced across her features, and Joseph couldn’t quite tell what expression she wore.
‘Tabs,’ he said cautiously.
‘Can we talk?’
He nodded and scrambled to his feet. Hal went back to his wand without a second glance.
They set out across the beach, away from the firelight, music and drunken songs. They passed a pair of trolls, stripped to the waist and wrestling while spectators cheered them on; a dwarf with a bandaged leg telling tales of the battle to a circle of friends; scores of folk smiling, laughing and dancing. Further up the beach, Joseph made out the shadowy figure of Governor Skelmerdale. He had arrived an hour before to congratulate the fleet, and now stood drinking firewater with Colonel Derringer and a group of blackcoats, smiling and laughing. Joseph watched him pat the colonel on the back before moving on to another group.
Their feet sank deep in the sand, still warm from the day’s sunshine. As they got further from their fellow Fayters, Joseph began to notice the surge of the sea, and the cries of the birds that lived inland. One took flight from a nearby tree, the blue and yellow of its wings still just visible in the dusk. It was a perfect evening on a beautiful island that, just a year ago, he could never have even imagined visiting. For a moment it made him forget everything. Made him feel sad and happy at the same time.
Tabitha stopped and sat down on the sand. She hadn’t said a word yet. Joseph lowered himself down beside her.
‘Tabs,’ he said, and his voice shook. He took a deep breath and tried again. ‘Tabs. I’m so sorry. About leaving you in Fayt. And … and about everything.’
‘That’s all right.’
‘You must be really angry with me, and you’re right to be. I was—’ He broke off, realizing what she’d just said. ‘Did you say “that’s all right”?’
Tabitha nodded. She still wasn’t looking at him, but something about her had softened.
‘I think I just want to forget about it.’
Joseph could barely believe what he was hearing.
‘Besides,’ she went on, sifting sand through her fingers. ‘The truth is …’ She sighed. ‘Well, I’m sorry too. When we were in the warehouse, and I said … I said I would be better off without you.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Joseph. He tried a smile. ‘I mean, I suppose you were right.’
She smiled back at him, and it was the best thing he’d seen all day.
There was a silence, but a comfortable one.
‘There is one thing though,’ said Tabitha finally. ‘I want to know what happened. Why did you help the Snitch?’
Joseph hesitated. He didn’t want to talk about it. But after everything he’d put her through, he owed her an explanation at the very least.
He reached into his coat pocket. There it was, nestled next to his heart. He pulled out the watch and handed it to her. Against all the odds, it was still ticking.
‘It’s a watch,’ said Tabitha. ‘So what?’
He turned it over in her hands so that the engraving was face up. ‘See? Elijah. My father. Jeb gave it to me. He was going to take me to him. To the Old World.’
Tabitha stared at the engraving. Then, slowly, she shook her head.
‘Bilge,’ she said.
Joseph felt as though she’d slapped him. His ears twitched.
‘This is Jeb the Snitch we’re talking about. Listen to yourself! I already told you, he made it up so that you’d help him.’
‘You don’t know that,’ said Joseph, as calmly as he could.
‘He tricked you, Joseph. He got someone to make that watch for him. Or maybe it was your father’s, but that doesn’t mean he’s alive. Look, don’t feel bad – he even tricked Newt into trusting him, before he betrayed us all to Captain Gore and his pirates. I know how hard it is not having a ma and a pa. But that doesn’t—’
‘That’s not what this is about.’
Tabitha raised an eyebrow. ‘Really? Are you sure about that?’
He wasn’t. Not at all. But he wasn’t going to tell her that.
‘Forget it,’ he said unsteadily. ‘Forget I said anything.’
‘Even if it was true, and even if you helped him, he still wouldn’t tell you. Why would he?’
‘I’d make him.’
There was a pause. Something about the way he’d said that had thrown her. He swallowed. ‘I mean, I’d—’
‘Hey,’ said Tabitha. She smiled at him and punched his arm. ‘I’m sorry. Let’s just forget about it, all right?’
Joseph looked back at the Fayters sitting around their fires, celebrating, and for a moment he felt like he was looking at them from outside. Like Pallione and her father, bobbing in the waters of the bay and wondering at the strange way these land dwellers behaved. He thought of the mermaid princess hunting for shells and chasing shoals of fish. Fighting in the shark pits. Singing for the Boy King. And he thought about her father, waiting for her, and dying for her.
Forget about it.