As the sun began to lower in the sky, Toby checked the leads again.
Polly nudged him with her cold head. “You’ve done all you can.” He ignored her. “Toby?”
His knuckles turned white on the handle of his pliers. “If we hadn’t had the coordinates of the panels, the Banshee would never have attacked. We wouldn’t have needed to dock in Tarifa.” He continued to coil and uncoil wires. “Our friends died for those panels and now they’re worthless?”
“Toby, please stop.”
Carefully, he placed the last wire. “We’re ready to go.” He cleared his throat. “I suppose we’d better go and tell the captain.”
As Toby stepped on deck, the Phoenix rolled against her anchorage. He automatically adjusted his balance and wiped the stinging spray that splashed his face. Once, he had been told, the salt had been clean, but seven billion people had filled it with rubbish. Then the super-volcano had poisoned the sea with gases and the tsunamis had broken up the great garbage patches. Fifty years ago, people had swum in the sea; now it was the salt and he had to wipe it from his face in case it burned his skin.
Under a swaying canopy, Uma was repairing a net. She looked up as he dried his hand on his trousers. “How are you doing, Toby?”
Toby shook his head, unable to answer. “When will Theo and Simeon be back with news?”
Uma looked up. “A week? Sailing day and night, it’ll be at least two days each way.”
Toby groaned. “Any word from Rahul?”
“He and Nisha are still going through the inventory with the captain. If there’s a box or piece missing, we’ll know about it. Here, hold this.” Toby caught hold of the needle she offered, while she examined the netting she had just sewn.
Toby took a moment to check the sky; they were anchored a day out of Reykjavik and he worried about hail. He and the captain had weighed the danger that bad weather posed to the solar panels against the fact that the oil war between Reykjavik, Scotland and St George, which had started over the North Sea oil reserves, would keep St George ships away from Faroe Rocks. They had decided the anchorage was worth the risk.
At the moment the clouds seemed to be racing away from them. Toby squinted up at the crow’s nest where Arnav was keeping watch, then over the swinging plastic shades to the bow where Peel had set up a barbecue and was cooking gull stew for dinner.
As he watched Peel stir the broth, Toby thought of how the awful cook had tried to save him from the Banshee. That led his mind down familiar pathways back to Ayla. The last time Toby had seen the Banshee, she had been facing a St George naval vessel and fighting for her life. Even with one arm broken, she had whirled like a tornado.
“You’re thinking of her again.” Uma touched his arm.
Toby flushed. “How do you know?”
Uma smiled. “I remember how you looked when you brought her to me, injured.”
Toby shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Even if the Banshee escaped St George, we’ll never be together again.”
Uma tied off a knot. “Because the Phoenix left the Banshee to the Greymen?”
“Because my mother betrayed Nell and had her family killed.” Toby sat at her side and adjusted Nix so that the sword wouldn’t dig into his thigh. “Nell blames the captain.”
“If the captain hadn’t fled, Judy would never have been in Nell’s home – it would never have happened.”
“I know.” Toby leaped to his feet as the deck hatch that led ultimately to the wreck room was flung open and the captain appeared. He climbed up the ladder and stood with his shoulders bowed.
Toby froze. “Bad news?”
“We’ve been through that inventory three times.” Rahul climbed on to the deck behind the captain. “We never pulled any inverter out of the salt.”
The captain growled. “It must have been in a separate shipment.”
“All of this for nothing?” It was Oats. He was standing with Marcus by the winch and his hook glinted as he raised it over the panels. Toby couldn’t tell if he meant the work they’d done getting the solar array fixed up, or the loss of his hand.
The other pirates started to mutter and Polly hopped quickly across the deck, her metal wings clattering as she spread them for balance. Toby lifted her on to his shoulder.
“You’d a known we needed that inverter from the start,” Crocker snapped. “You shoulda made sure it was there before we worked our butts off gettin’ those panels all fixed up.”
“Watch it, Crocker.” Dee stalked forwards. “That’s your captain you’re speaking to.”
“Crocker’s right,” Rita called. “Why wasn’t this checked before we started?”
“The box was there—” Rahul began.
Toby raised his voice. “There’s no use arguing about it. What’s done is done. Your work’s not been for nothing. All we need is an inverter. Fix the panels in place, then I’ll fire up the boiler and we’ll find one.”
“There’s a problem with that.” Marcus tugged at the scarf that covered the scar on his throat. “The solar panels on land were all destroyed in the riots – that’s why our salvage was so precious. And if the panels were all destroyed, their inverters likely were, too.”
“Marcus is right,” the captain said roughly. “There might not be any inverters left to find.”
Toby swallowed. “But you can make anything out of anything, right? Make an inverter.”
The captain spread his palms. “I can try, but I’ll need components compatible with the Solaris array. I just don’t know…”
“So, we’re screwed,” Oats spat. “That’s just great.”
“Well, there’s a surprise. Looks like the Phoenix needs me again.”
Toby’s brain stuttered. It was the voice he had been hearing in his mind for weeks. Polly jerked upright, digging her claws through his shirt.
As the rest of the Phoenix erupted in furious cries, Toby slowly turned. He could barely believe it, but his ears hadn’t lied. Ayla was climbing over the side of the Phoenix, the beads in her hair clattering on the railing.
“Ayla!” D’von’s face was bright as midday. “You came back.” He grabbed her arm and helped her over the gunwale.
“Let go of me.” Ayla swung her legs over the side of the Phoenix and brushed rust from her hands.
“Arnav, what the hell?” the captain yelled up at the crow’s nest as he pulled his blunderbuss from his belt. Dee grabbed a hook.
Arnav waved frantically. “I were distracted – listenin’. Sorry.”
“Are there more of them?” Marcus shouted.
Arnav pressed the binoculars to his eyes. “Only the girl.” He called eventually. “She’s come alone … again.”
“Well, now,” Crocker hissed. “Weren’t that stupid!”