Ma and Dizzy is sprinting back towards the creek, so they’ll have Licorice Stix skimming the bay after us soon enough.
Across the risen sea we sail, working the Valley of the Sun boat as best we can. It’s fitted out a bit different to what we’re used to with seats and cushions and sunshades and all manner of beeping gadgets, but we’ve not got time to figure it out. We gotta get a good lead to stop Ma catching up and spoiling it all.
Black sails appear a long way behind and creep up on Marta’s little boat with its white sail, and they pull alongside. Both sets of sails drop. I don’t have spyglasses but I think there’s people climbing onto Licorice Stix.
‘They’ll be after us soon in Licorice,’ Saleesi says.
I nod. I’m thinking hard about what I’ll say to Jacob. What I’ll say to that old woman from Valley of the Sun when she catches up to me. How will I get them to listen?
It’s a long way to Jacob’s Reach and it seems like both sets of sails behind us are hoisted again way too soon. Licorice is faster than most boats. She’ll be on us like a tick.
Me and Saleesi work the sail, tacking back and forth across the inland sea, as the earth turns and puts the sun low in the sky, and finally Jacob’s Reach is in view. Licorice is hot on our tail. We turn and tack and it feels like we’re sailing right at them for a moment. They turn early and try to cut us off, but the tack slows them. It takes a moment for the sail to move across and refill. The people on the deck are slow pulling it tight. I think I know why. Only Marta, the old woman and two tall Valley of the Sun people are standing on the deck of Licorice. None of them as good sailors as Ma, Dizzy or Uncle Sorren, all left behind on Marta’s boat.
‘Ahoy!’ Saleesi yells, cheeky as a galah. ‘How’s the fishing!’
‘Shush!’ I say. ‘They got guns and they’s already mad.’
‘Drop your sail!’ the old woman yells.
We don’t. I guess a bit of Saleesi’s pirating ways rubbed off on me when it comes to doing what I’m told.
Our lead on Licorice Stix gets smaller and smaller the closer we get to Jacob’s Reach, and I’m wondering if all Jacob’s people will see is the silly croc-girl getting told off in their bay and hauled back to Cottage Hill.
We sail fast up to Jacob’s Reach’s jetty coz I don’t really care if we get a scrape on their tin boat. Licorice is so close someone will be leaping for the stern as I’m leaping off the bow. Saleesi drops all the sails and we coast up close to the poles. I leap for the deck with the tie off rope, wrap it around a pole and throw it back to Saleesi for her to deal with slowing the boat proper. Then I run up into the centre of Jacob’s Reach. ‘Hide! Hide! Valley of the Sun is here!’ I yell.
People come out and stare. None of them laugh, coz they all know they done something wrong.
‘Hide your littlies, they got guns!’ I yell. Then parents get moving, and kids is rounded up, grabbed by parents and they run up into the forest and over the hill.
‘What’s going on!’ Jacob shouts. He comes stomping down from a cottage, his face red and grumpy.
I point back to Licorice Stix tying off at their jetty. ‘They came to our village, waving guns, and now they’re on our boat,’ I say. ‘You gotta tell them what happened when their people came here. You gotta tell them so they don’t blame us!’
Jacob glares at me. ‘You’re in their boat. You brought them here!’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘And you better talk to them!’ I kick him in the shin. That only hurts my toe so I run back down to the jetty where Saleesi will help me whomp him if he comes chasing after me. I thought maybe to cripple him so he don’t run off but he jus’ growls and yells for people to grab knives and hide. That young man, Tyrell Weatherman, is hiding behind a big water trough near the windmill. I’m keeping my eye on him.
Jacob sits down at the fire-pit, and jabs at it with a big iron poker sending sparks shooting up. If I were Valley of the Sun people I wouldn’t be going near him.
‘Girl!’ Jacob yells. ‘You tell them come up here and talk like regular folk!’
This was what I wanted all along. That’s why I done all this.
The Valley of the Sun people is a bit quieter when they step off on this jetty and maybe Marta’s given them one of her talking-tos.
‘Troublesome child,’ the older woman mutters at me when she steps off Licorice. ‘Why have you dragged us out here?’
Marta heaves herself onto the jetty. ‘I told you, this also concerns Jacob’s Reach. That’s why she wants you here.’
The older woman with the black hair instead of grey is still scowling. ‘She told one of our people she had information about the murder of Gerra’s sister,’ she says. ‘We want to hear what it is!’
‘Did you say that, Neoma?’ Marta asks.
I nod. ‘But I said “death” not “murder”.’ Marta is right when she said words can be dangerous.
Marta waves up to the fire-pit. ‘Then we shall hear it. Perhaps we should all sit down and take tea, as is the custom in the Ockery Islands.’
And I don’t know what Marta thinks I know, coz I ain’t told her. How could I without admitting I been poking around out here spying on our neighbours?
‘A crime has been committed and we don’t have time for tea. We need the girl to tell us what she knows,’ the woman says.
‘The crime will have been committed whether you beat the child until she talks or whether you stop for tea, and hear her talk willingly. Which will it be?’ Marta says, and I don’t much like the idea of Marta suggesting I get beat till I talk!
I open my mouth to complain but Marta holds a finger up to my face. ‘Not a word, until they agree to be reasonable.’
Saleesi plants herself in front of me, waving her big pirate cutlass around. ‘Want me to whomp them for ya?’ she asks.
The Valley of the Sun people pull out guns and point them at Saleesi.
‘There’s no whomping going on here!’ Marta says, making Saleesi back down quick. ‘By anyone!’ Marta gives the people with the guns a hard look.
The older Valley of the Sun woman nods. ‘Very well then,’ she says. ‘Tea.’ But like she still don’t really have time for tea.
‘Come and meet Jacob,’ Marta says like she can’t see him sitting there fuming with a fire-poker in his hand. ‘You bring the others up when they arrive,’ she says to me. The little white sail of Marta’s boat is still a way off. ‘And then we’ll hear from you.’
