Toby hit the boiler-room door like a tornado, already pulling his goggles over his eyes. As soon as his heart stopped pounding, his ears caught a strange sound.
“Something’s changed.” Toby pulled his screwdriver from his tool belt and stalked around the boiler.
The captain’s voice echoed from the speaking tube. “Why aren’t we reversing?”
Toby hesitated, his eyes narrowed. Over the whine of the turbines, he made out a gentle hissing, like a trapped snake.
“Toby, what is it?” asked Polly.
He spun back to the boiler and tapped the water-level gauge. “Water’s adequate and operational pressure is fine. When did I test the feed water for impurities?”
“Twenty-six hours ago.” Polly’s claws clicked on the floor as she followed him. “You injected the chemicals, it should still be balanced.”
Toby scrubbed furiously at the salt drying on his cheeks. “I can’t see anything wrong. Can you?”
Polly flew to her roost. “Nothing appears out of order.”
“Something’s not right; I can hear it hissing. Ashes, we haven’t got time for this.”
“Toby, we’re going to lose the salvage.” The captain’s tone was urgent.
“We’re not losing that plane, not after everything.” Shoving his worries to the back of his mind, Toby closed his ears to the distressing sound and reached for the lever that would send the paddles into reverse.
Polly bobbed up and down. “If you say there’s something wrong with the boiler, then there’s something wrong with it.”
“It’ll have to wait.” Toby closed his hand around the warm metal and moved the lever one notch. Immediately he heard the whistle of four-hundred-degree steam rushing along delivery lines that were usually only opened when manoeuvring the Phoenix into dock.
He licked his lips. He hadn’t pinned down the source of the hissing, but the boiler seemed to be running with no problems. The Phoenix bumped in the water as the paddles came back online and then, torturously slowly, she began to reverse.
Toby fidgeted as he timed her, thirty seconds … forty.
Then the captain’s voice came back over the speaker. “That’s enough, now.”
Immediately Toby slammed the lever back into position, returned the paddles to null and diverted all power back to the pump room.
The Phoenix was once again in position to salvage the plane. Toby paced around the boiler room, listening. The hissing had quieted.
Polly hopped on to his shoulder. “Go and see your plane come in. If there is a problem, you can work on it later.”
Toby hesitated, torn. Then he nodded. “You’re right, it can wait.” He gave the attemperator a tap and dragged the goggles off his head. “But I’ll be back.”
Toby anchored himself into a rope at the prow, never tired of the sight of the Phoenix closing up and shutting out the hungry sea. He could hear the bellows of the men driving the windlasses over the water’s roar as the doors got closer to sealing. Finally the sea pushed against the pressure of the determined Phoenix one last time and lost.
The clang as the doors locked rang out over the waves and Toby placed his palms on deck. Beneath him he could feel the pumps hammering as the last of the water rushed from the outlets.
For a moment the Phoenix was quiet as she bobbed in the water alongside the junk. Then the hatch in the prow cracked and the pirates from the pump room began to file on to the deck. Soon the pirates were all around Toby, rowdy with adrenaline. The captain jumped from the bridge.
“I’m going to check on Dobbs and his team in the wreck room. Raise the rigging, get those sails up. Then everyone have a rest.” He glanced at his son. “You too, Toby. If the furnace has enough fuel, you can leave the boiler room for a bit.”
Instinctively Toby looked behind him, tracking the storm.
Barnaby followed his gaze. “We have a few hours yet and the sails will give us some headway. Have some time with the crew, I’ll tell you when we need to get the paddles moving.” He pulled his glasses from his pocket and put them on. “I’m going to check on that plane.”
Toby opened his mouth.
“No, you cannot come, Toby. The salvage team don’t need you underfoot.” Barnaby smiled to soften his words. “I know it’s ‘your’ salvage, son. I’ll tell you if it’s any good.” He addressed the rest of the crew. “Sails up.”
“Perudo?” Dee appeared at Toby’s shoulder.
Toby’s legs moved in a restless jiggle as he considered. He should go and work out what was wrong with the boiler, but his captain had told him to take some time out. Besides, he wanted to be on deck when the verdict on the salvage was delivered.
His eyes went behind Dee to where Uma waited with Marcus and Rahul. If he went below, he’d be missing a good game. Finally Toby nodded and Dee led the group to a quiet spot among coils of rope and out of the wind.
“Lay your bets, pirates.” She settled herself comfortably.
“I’ll bet the boy has never kissed a girl in his life.” The voice that came from behind Toby’s back sounded like the rust of old hinges and ended with a low, satisfied snigger.
“Crocker.” Dee acknowledged the pirate, and Toby clenched his fists.
“I’ve got some bets to lay if you’ll ’ave me play.” Crocker wormed his way into the gap between Toby and Uma before anyone could object. His bow legs curved into the space and forced Toby to edge away to avoid pressing against him. Despite himself, Toby glanced sideways.
Crocker patted his hooked nose. “Doncha worry, boy, it’ll ’appen one day.” Then he sniggered again. “Oh, wait, there aren’t any girls on board, are there? An’ you aren’t allowed off ship, are you? So maybe it won’t ’appen after all. Might as well cut ’em off.” He gave a snort that sprayed over the box of dice.
“Say that again, you—”
“What have you got to bet?” snapped Dee, silencing Toby. She wiped the box with the sleeve of her windcheater.
“I got information,” Crocker grinned. “I know where the captain’s been taking us this last week.”
“If the captain’s been taking us somewhere and hasn’t shared it with the rest of the crew, then he has a good reason. You shouldn’t be spreading rumours.”
Marcus tucked his long red hair under the clashing scarlet scarf wrapped around his throat. “How would you know, anyway?” he sneered.
“I know because I delivered him his mornin’ brew and saw the map he’s usin’. You recall that garbled information we traded the spare sextant for at the last port? Well, he’s worked it all out and plotted a course. We’re on our way to something that’ll make this salvage look petty.”
“It won’t be petty.” Toby ground his teeth. “And he’ll tell us when he’s ready.”
Crocker shrugged but his leg muscles tensed against Toby’s. The pirate wasn’t as relaxed as he seemed. “Well, then, how about some of the spicy sausage we robbed off that farmer in Almeria? Chorizo, they called it. I got some of that off of Peel. And three pickled eggs left from Scilly.”
“All right,” Dee nodded. “You’re in. Marcus?”
Marcus scratched his head. “Got some free time on rotation tomorrow, I can offer that.”
“Vitamin tabs.” He patted the top pocket of his windcheater. “Ds. Half a pack.”
Uma leaned back. “I’ll do an extra laundry duty.”
Dee scratched a note with her penknife on the side of the bridge as the sails creaked and groaned overhead. “I’ve been making a short sword from a propeller I pulled on hook duty a few weeks ago,” she said finally.
“A sword?” Toby sat up. “Serious? No way food and free time is worth a sword.”
Uma and Marcus agreed, while Crocker rubbed his hands together. “Could do with a sword, me.”
“Up your offer, then,” Toby snapped.
Dee shook her head. “I’m happy to bet. I don’t reckon I’ll lose and then I’ll have a sword, all that food and some free time to eat it.”
“Yeah, but…”
“What’s your bet, boy?” Crocker leaned closer, his sour smoke-and-garlic breath told Toby that the chorizo was smaller than it had been.
Toby frowned, trying to think of something he could offer that was worth the same as a whole sword. “I-I’m not sure.” His feet tapped on the deck. “My tool belt. I’ve got that.”
“Your tool belt?” Uma frowned as she spoke to him for the first time. “You need that.”
“Not my tools.” Toby shook his head. “Just the belt.”
“Not much use then, is it?” Crocker smirked.
“Well…” Toby paused. “I’ve been working on some clockwork. I’ve got a little engine that goes—”
Crocker guffawed. “A toy! What’re we going to do with a toy? There ain’t no kids on this ship, in case you ’aven’t noticed, Toby. You’re the only one who wants to play with toys.”
“It’s not a toy, it’s a prototype.”
Dee and Uma glowered, but it was Rahul who spoke. Scratching his bad leg he tilted his head thoughtfully. “I would like a toy, Toby. It’s a good bet.”
“Pah,” Crocker spat. “What’ll you do with a clockwork engine? Trade it in the next port?”
“Could do,” Rahul nodded sagely. “See, so it is a good bet for all of us.” But he wasn’t looking at Crocker when he spoke. Toby followed his gaze to a rowdy card game run by Oats on the prow.
“You and Nisha?” he gasped. “You’re together?”
Rahul blushed. “So, you see – a clockwork engine would not be so bad.”
Quiet dropped over the group. Finally Dee slapped the box of dice into Rahul’s hand. It rattled like bones. “We’ll miss you, Rahul: both you and Nish.”
“Yes, we wish that we could be together and remain on board. It will still be some time before we have to leave – weeks yet before she even starts to show. We’ll take our time and find somewhere to settle next time we are sailing in the waters off Bangladesh State.”
“Nish isn’t wanted any more? Has she been pardoned?” Dee frowned.
“That was the news we received in the port before last – why Nisha has been so happy. A regime change. The Minister had to escape with his family in the night. They were caught heading into Bhutanabad and hanged. No more hiding for Nisha, she can go home.”
“And you?” Toby swallowed. “What about you?”
“They won’t be looking for me in Bangladesh State, especially with such big changes to consider. We will blend in, hide away and raise our children in sight of the sea.”
Uma put her arm around him. “I’ll congratulate Nisha later.”
Rahul showed bright white teeth. “Not yet, Uma, wait till she shows. She’s superstitious.”
Marcus laughed. “We’re pirates, Rahul, we’re all superstitious.”
“Enough of this.” Crocker’s hand banged on the deck in the centre of the ring. “Toby’s bet stands. Are we playing or not?”
Rahul shook the dice into his hand and divvied them out, three to each of the six players.
“Toby starts, he’s the youngest,” Uma said. Then, as Polly squawked, she looked up sharply, understanding that she hadn’t thought her words through.
Toby tensed, sensing Crocker’s mirth. “Fine,” he gritted, looking at the dice hidden between his knees. “Four sixes.”
“Five sixes,” Crocker replied.
“Six twos.” Marcus rubbed his forehead and Dee grinned at him.
She leaned back, as she gave her response. “Six threes.”
“Six sixes.” Rahul rubbed his hands.
“Seven … threes.” Uma licked her lips. “Back to you, Toby.”
Toby ground his teeth. Were there likely to be seven threes showing among the group? He calculated swiftly. Eighteen dice and ones were wild. Crocker seemed to like sixes, the others had bet twos and threes. So were there likely to be more than seven threes and ones together showing in eighteen dice? His brain said no, that Uma had made a mistake. But she might have a handful of threes; it was possible. If she did, then among fifteen dice she only had to find four ones and threes. And Dee had also bet threes. Toby pressed his lips together and his feet jiggled wildly. If he didn’t challenge, he had to up the bet. But that meant he thought there was more of another number. Did he?
“Seven … fives.”
On Toby’s shoulder, Polly stiffened. “Polly want a cracker,” she muttered.
“Nah.” Crocker rubbed his hands on his greasy trousers. “No chance. Dudo.”
“You sure, Crocker?” Dee raised an eyebrow. “Eighteen dice out.”
“I can count. I’m challenging.” Crocker licked his lips. “Dudo.”
“Fine. Show your dice.”
Crocker moved his legs to reveal his. Two sixes, one three. No fives. That left fifteen dice and seven fives still to find.
Marcus held his dice on his thigh. He lifted one hand. A one, a two and a four. That left twelve dice and six fives to find.
Dee’s dice showed two threes and a six.
Nine dice, six fives to go. Toby turned his eyes to Rahul, pressing his nails into his hand. Rahul moved his foot to show two ones and a six.
Toby nodded. Six dice. Four fives remaining.
Uma grinned and opened her palm: two threes and a one.
Three dice left; Toby’s own. Three fives left to count. Crocker was already grinning, his chest swelling. He reached out a hand to Toby. “Come on, boy, hand over a die.”
Toby met Crocker’s eyes then, without looking at his own dice, he opened his knees.
“A one and two fives, Crocker. That makes seven.”
Crocker’s lip curled. “You little…”
“You challenged and lost, Crocker. Throw in a die.” Dee’s voice was low and calm, but they all knew she was the captain’s second for several excellent reasons, not least her ability to out-think and outfight most of the pirates on the ship.
“Fine.” Crocker threw a die so hard it bounced off Uma’s shoe and landed beneath Rahul’s. “There’s still a long way to go. My start.”
They shook again and looked to Crocker. He glowered directly at Toby. “Three threes.”
They went round again, until the betting reached Toby with Uma’s bet of five fives.
Marcus had bet fives, too. Toby glanced at his hand. Twos and threes. He shook his head. “Dudo.”
“Show your hand.” Dee turned hers up and Toby’s heart sank. Marcus and Dee both had fives and ones.
With a sheepish grin Toby tossed a die. Now he and Crocker both had two dice and the others remained with three.
Round and round they went, until Polly flew off to sit on the gunwale and Marcus threw in his last die with a groan. “It looks as if I’ll be working my free time tomorrow.”
Rahul was next to go out. He dropped his vitamins on to the deck next to his last die. A shout from the card game propelled him to his feet. “I’m going to see how Nisha is doing.” He limped over to the prow.
Crocker grinned evilly. “Last man standing, eh.”
“Stop it, Crocker.” Uma shook her dice with an angry flourish.
“Right though, aren’t I? I’m playing with women and boys now. Maybe you should just give me all the winnings. Save us some time.” He reached for Rahul’s abandoned vitamins.
Uma’s club materialized above the packet. “Touch them, Crocker, and I’ll break your fingers.”
“Humourless cow.” He curled a lip again. “Only joking, wasn’t I?”
“Maybe you should stop talking, Crocker.” Toby glared at him. “You’re the one losing. Down to one dice, aren’t you?”
“So’s Dee,” he snapped.
“Yes, but Uma and I have two.”
“We’ll see who wins, boy.” He pulled his hand back.
Toby’s eyes narrowed. “Stop calling me that.”
“It’s what you are, isn’t it? We’ve all seen you grow up. Except you ’aven’t grown up much, ’ave you, boy.”
“That’s enough, Crocker,” Dee warned.
Uma sat silently.
“We all think it. He’s never been off ship. Never been in a fight. A pirate what’s never been in a fight! He’s a child.”
Toby launched himself sideways at Crocker. Immediately Polly’s shriek rang in his ears and Uma blocked him from behind. “You can’t fight Crocker, Toby. He plays dirty. Look at him, distracting you from the game, trying to make you bet bad. He’s after winning. No less.”
Crocker laughed like sewage gurgling down a drain. “Yes, Toby, let Mumsy protect you from the big bad man.”
Polly landed between Crocker and Toby, hissing through her beak. Crocker aimed a kick in her direction. “Filthy bloody bird.”
As Toby struggled, Dee got to her feet.
“That’s enough, both of you. Without Toby, Marcus would’ve been hanged or drowned in the salt. You’re nothing but trouble today, Crocker. It’s time you left.”
Crocker smiled a narrow, self-satisfied smile. “No can do, Dee. A bet’s been bet and accepted. The game has to be played out. That’s your own rules, ain’t it?”
Dee stood for a long moment, fuming. Uma’s arm tightened around Toby. His whole body felt like a combustion chamber ready to burst. But he didn’t dare take his rage out on Uma. He sagged, and Dee sat, dragging him to her side. Polly scuttled to press her body against his thigh, glaring with her yellow eyes at Crocker.
“We play,” Dee murmured. “But quickly.”
Uma bet first. “Two threes.”
“Two fours,” Toby ground out.
“Two fives.” Crocker grinned and rubbed his remaining die between his fingers.
“Three threes.” Dee licked her lips.
Uma hissed. “Only six dice left.” She looked at Toby. “Four threes.”
“Five threes,” Toby snapped, without thinking it through. Then he froze. To win there had to be five threes and ones showing in only six dice. No chance. He had just given the game to Crocker…
“Who’s a pretty birdie?” Polly grumbled. She knew he’d lost, too.
“No take backs,” Crocker crowed. “Dudo.” He jiggled his shoulders.
“Let’s see it, Crocker.” Dee gestured and Crocker opened his hand. “A five, there’s a surprise.” Dee looked at Toby as she showed her single dice. “A three.”
Uma opened her hand. “Two threes.”
Toby swallowed and lifted his own hand from his thigh, where his dice were waiting. “Two ones, Crocker. That makes five for me.” He could barely believe it.
“Your last die, Crocker.” Dee held out her hand. “Give it here.”
Crocker leaped to his feet. “Cheats,” he growled.
Uma rose slowly. “How dare you!”
“I saw you look at Toby back then. He knew what you had.”
Uma shook her head. “Pathetic. You’re out, Crocker. Bring the sausage and eggs to Dee and give us your die.”
Crocker shook his head. “Cow!” Then he threw his die towards the sea as hard as he could.
Toby rose and the four of them watched as it disappeared from view.
“You owe me a die, Crocker, and you won’t be playing with us again.” Dee shook her head. “You’re a louse.”
“No,” Crocker shook his head. “I’m a man. And there ain’t no one can argue with that.”
Crocker marched off, his bow legs joggling beneath his windcheater.
Toby turned back to the others. “I—”
“It’s all right, Toby.” Dee pressed his arm. “One day you’ll be bigger than he is, then you can whip him from bow to stern and no one will say a word about it.”
“His brother will,” Toby swallowed.
Dee pressed a little harder. “By then you’ll be able to take him, too.”
“Right.” Toby glowered down at his feet, too big for his legs; his legs, too lanky for his body; his wrists, too thin for his arms. His shoulders were starting to broaden but everyone still thought of him as a boy. Even Marcus, and Toby had saved his life.
“You know –” Uma’s voice came from above him – “I think I’ll forfeit. I’m not into the game any more.”
“Me, too.” Dee smiled down. “Here, Toby.” She reached inside her windcheater behind her back and pulled. Toby gasped as her hand came round clutching a short sword. “Take it.” She offered it to him and he blinked.
“You’re forfeiting?” Toby hesitated and Dee nodded, reversing the blade so that the pommel faced Toby. “It’s yours.”
Toby’s hand closed on the rounded handle. He gave an experimental swish and Polly whistled.
“Ha, I believe your parrot’s impressed.” Dee laughed. “It’s just like your belt knife really.” She guided his hand. “Callum can give you pointers next time you have combat training with him.”
Toby nodded, eyes bright. “This is brilliant.” The blade winked at him in the sunlight; Dee had polished it to a high shine. The pommel was wrapped in leather. Toby lifted the blade to see it more closely. “Is this…?”
“A phoenix. Well, the best picture of a phoenix I could do with a chisel.” Dee laughed.
“It’s wonderful. It really looks like a phoenix should.” The tail feathers swooped around from the blade into the pommel and the head was held high, beak pointing up to the point of the sword. “She’s wonderful.”
Uma nodded sagely. “Will you give her a name?”
“A name?” Toby blinked.
“Every great weapon has a name. Ask the captain if you don’t believe me.”
“Like what?” Toby frowned at his sword. “Betty?”
Dee folded in half. “No,” she said when she had stopped laughing. “Like Excalibur, Mjölnir…”
“Or Siegfried’s Nothung,” Uma put in. “Although I quite like Betty.”
Dee glared. “I’ll have her back first.”
Toby stroked the blade. “How about … Nix. Short for Phoenix.”
“Nix.” Dee tilted her head. “Which means: ‘to make something become nothing’. I like it.”
“And in my own country,” Uma smiled, “a nix was a water spirit. It’s a wonderful name, Toby.”
Toby couldn’t take his eyes from the sunlight glimmering on the sword blade. He twirled it. “Nix,” he said. “She’s perfect.” He tore his eyes from his prize to look at Dee. “Thank you, Dee.”
The captain burst through the hatch beside him, propelling Polly skyward.
“That salvage,” he roared, looking for Toby. When his eyes fell on his son, they gleamed. “That salvage is … wonderful. Enough fuel left in her to get the old engine running for a while and some excellent machine parts. Suitcases full of clothes and –” his beard split in a wide grin – “best of all, she was a Médecins Sans Frontières plane.” The crew cheered and Toby breathed out with a blend of relief and joy. “They must have been taking medical supplies to one of the principalities after the war. They had vaccines, penicillin, bandages, painkillers, anaesthetics. There’s stuff I haven’t even heard of.”
Uma was already moving when the captain gestured at her. “The crew is stacking it up below for you, Uma. When you’ve catalogued it, let me know what we’ve got.”
“Penicillin,” she whispered. “Anaesthetic.”
“Let me know if there’s anything we don’t need. Anything we can trade,” the captain shouted, as she disappeared below. Then he turned to Toby. “The team is pumping fuel into the lines right now. Well done, son. You found us a grand prize. Cheers for Toby.”
The crew around him raised their voices.
Then the captain lifted a hand. “We have enough fuel to make our objective, so it’s time to tell you. The old man we traded with at the last port gave me the location of solar panels.”
“Solar panels,” Toby breathed.
“Yes, there’s a whole cargo container full. The ship went down before the riots, before all the solar panels on land were smashed. No one bothered salvaging it at the time, because the panels were useless without the sun. Now the sun’s back. The old man knew where his captain’s ship went down, but hadn’t the resources to go back for it, so he was willing to trade his notes on her location.”
“With solar panels, we can fit the Phoenix so she goes and goes.” Toby couldn’t resist a small cheer.
“That’s right. No more reliance on salvage, no more slow sailwork, no more scrabbling for engine fuel. We’ll be unstoppable.”
“It would change everything.” Toby looked around at the ship as if seeing her for the first time. He pictured a solar array on deck, reflecting the sun like a piece of trapped sky, and imagined electric lights blinking inside her dingy passageways. He stared at his hands, closing his palm around the black lines that told his story – he couldn’t recall ever seeing his hands clean. No more brushing soot out of the boiler. No more pressure to seek the dwindling combustible junk they needed to keep the boiler running. And who knew what they would find in deeper waters? Acid-free salt, fish that hadn’t been poisoned…
“Then we can search for the island,” Dee added.
“That’s right.” The captain nodded.
“The island!” Crocker snorted from the back of the group. “Bah, it’s a myth.”
The captain shook his head. “I don’t think it is a myth. When Yellowstone erupted there were several landmasses that rose from the seas and sunk back again, but some of the larger ones remained. We’ve all heard of the atolls that ringed Hawaii.”
The crew nodded.
“Then what’s so strange about a whole island rising and not sinking back?”
“It’s a children’s story,” Crocker sneered. “No one’s ever found it.”
“It’s real,” the captain snapped. “A whole island, untouched by man, with its own natural resources, free of governments and their military Greymen.”
“You just want it to be real,” Crocker suggested.
The captain raised his hands. “What do we do if we’re not looking for the island, Crocker? Sail aimlessly our whole lives, hiding from Greymen, slinking from port to port? The island is our goal. If you don’t like it, I can put you and your brother in at the next stop and you can take berth in another ship. The Banshee perhaps.”
Toby’s heart rose. Were they about to get rid of Crocker and his terrible brother?
Crocker disappointed him. “We can’t stay any time on land. You know that, Captain. We’re wanted men, me an’ Peel. An’ we like the Phoenix, she’s a solid berth.” Crocker patted the railing absently. “We’re useful to you, ain’t we? My brother’s the best cook you ever ’ad. An’ he saved your life, way back when.”
“Then get on board, Crocker.” The captain lowered his head. “We’re going for the solar panels and once they’re installed, we’ll be putting all our resources into searching for the island. We’ll sail deeper into the ocean than we ever have and further from any port. We’ll comb the seas until we find it. Then we’ll settle down. That’s the aim of the Phoenix and that’s what we’re going to do.”
“Here, here,” Marcus raised his voice and the rest of the pirates joined him.
Toby couldn’t resist. “The island!” he cried, mainly to annoy Crocker.
Toby hadn’t been off the Phoenix since he first boarded, when he was four years old. He had no idea what it would be like to live on land, couldn’t imagine how it would be living without the sea beneath his feet and … he looked around. Who was he supposed to settle down with? When they got to the island, he would be the only person his age. His eyes flicked to Rita. Almost eight years older than he was, she was the nearest. But despite her infectious childish giggle, he knew she saw him as a kid.
A gust of wind hit them and Toby inhaled the scent of clean air. Then a shout shattered the crew’s celebratory mood. Old Arnav was waving urgently from the crow’s nest. Toby followed his pointing arm and his jaw dropped. A false twilight was behind them, and it was gaining fast. The dark sky was broken by lightning so bright that Toby’s eyeballs seared with each flash. The storm was almost upon them.
“There must be a bloody hurricane up there for it to be moving so fast,” the captain yelled. “Get the sails down, Carson, or we’ll lose them.” He turned to Toby. “We need the paddles, son. Fast as you can.”
“What about the old engines?” Toby was already running for the hatch, Polly gliding at his side. “I can start them up.”
“The fuel won’t be filtered in time. Focus on the paddles. We can still outrun this, but we have to get some speed on now.”