The Edge of the Ocean Page 6

  Flick was grateful her sneakers and socks had dried out enough to be pulled back on—she hadn’t felt her toes for a while. The cold was only slightly offset by the flames of candles that had been balanced into every little nook and cranny imaginable. Lamps swung from hooks drilled into the rock, and there was scattered gravel on the floor, clearly added to make walking on the damp, slick surface a bit easier.

  Soon, the cave’s narrow shaft opened up like an upside-down bottle, and the interior space rose up into a large cavern, high enough to fit a house inside.

  “Keep with me,” Jereme said to them. “There’s more folks than we anticipated. Still not everyone, but here we are.”

  “How many people live in the Break?” Flick asked. She brushed against a pirate’s arm and muttered an apology, getting a hard stare in return.

  “Don’t know if anyone keeps count, to be honest. Less than there used to be. More lost ships, fewer babies. People don’t want to bring life into a world that might not be here for the child’s old age.” Jereme sighed as they passed one nursing mother—her baby strapped to her by means of a long strip of fabric, wound around and around so it left her hands free to do other things. Right now she was polishing a cutlass. “There’s always exceptions, of course.”

  People made way for them grudgingly, until the press of bodies got so close that they were stuck.

  “If you can get up on those rocks, you’ll be able to see.” Jereme indicated a spot to their left where the cave walls sloped enough for three young people to clamber up. “Wedge your feet hard against the stone and you’ll not slip. I need to be at the Pirate Queen’s side.”

  Flick forced her way through the crowd. The tension in the room was contagious—Flick felt her scalp prickle in anticipation. She led the way, pushing past pirates who were wider at the shoulder than she was tall, until she reached the slippery rock wall.

  It reminded her of climbing over the parking lot wall as a shortcut to get into the park back at the apartment she used to live in. And this was easier because the stone was lumpy and had places to put your feet in. Several other pirates clearly had the same idea of climbing up high to see better, but they were weighed down with their heavy equipment, and Flick, Jonathan, and Avery were able to squeeze past them and up onto a crop of rock that wasn’t so much a seat as a shelf. They ended up sort of leaning against the cave wall, their knees at the height of the heads of the pirates below.

  Flick looked down at the scene.

  In the center of the crowd was a raised stone dais or platform, like a stage. It was empty. There was a sudden shout from the direction of the walkway, and all heads turned in that direction at once.

  Captain Nyfe walked out from the crowd with a swagger only someone her size and build could ever hope to pull off. Her boots shone, the metal at her belt gleamed in the candlelight, and even her skin looked polished. She stomped up to the dais and stood on it, raising herself a foot higher off the stone floor, though she would have looked over almost every head in her stockinged feet.

  Flick felt in awe of her. The Pirate Queen had complete command of the place, and she knew it. Nyfe radiated confidence, and Flick couldn’t help wishing she herself had even a scrap of it.

  Nyfe raised her chin as she looked around, as if waiting for quiet.

  But the place had been silent and still since she walked into sight. These pirates knew their leader.

  A drum banged.

  Flick jumped, heart hammering, looking in the direction of the noise. Edony, who had removed her conical coat, was sitting cross-legged on a cushion, a skin-drum in front of her.

  Nyfe raised a hand. “Welcome to this sacred place. For those too young or too old to remember, this is the Whispering Cavern. The place our ancestors first found when they landed here, back when the world was new. They left their old selves here, and they entombed their bodies here—long before we learned the secret of sailing with the dead.”

  “Sailing with the dead?” Flick whispered, a shiver running up her back.

  Jonathan shrugged.

  Nyfe went on. “Our ancestors—those who came first—their spirits are still here. And if we need their input, they might choose to whisper to us. Everyone may have the chance to speak here, if they wish. But be aware—your words may not be your own.”

  The shiver on Flick’s skin turned into a cold grip. “Spirits? Does she mean ghosts?” she whispered.

  “Shh.” Avery nodded down at the speaker.

  Nyfe looked around her at the assembled crew. “I thank you, for assembling here. I trust you to relay what is discussed here back to your crews, and to let them all know they are welcome to join in our parley with the mer-folk. We sail tonight, around the Break, to meet them at the Cove of Voices.” She paused and looked around, catching more than one eye as she did so. “We have to decide. All of us. What is to happen with our world. What we can do to save it. And, if we cannot stop the coming end, how we can escape our fate.”

  There was general mumbling among the gathered people.

  “Has a cause been found, Pirate Queen?” a woman at the front asked. “Do we know why our world is breaking apart?”

  Nyfe adjusted her stance on the dais and sighed. “Our world has always been impossible—the scours in our sky tell us as much. And yet it has always existed. It has always survived. Now something has changed. My advisers have assured me that the cause of the collapse is no fault of ours—it is an outside influence. Someone, or something, is taking whatever magic it is that holds our world in place.”

  “Years ago, a man from another world came. He told us youngins stories about magic,” an old man piped up. “He came from a world of crystal, he said. He gave us gifts.” He held up a necklace with a shaft of quartz dangling from it.

  “Can you recall what he said, Old Mebby?” Nyfe asked.

  Interested, Flick leaned forward to see better. A world of crystal? Had the visitor paid a visit to the Crystal Forest and brought gifts from there? But you weren’t supposed to take anything from one world to another, after all.

  “I was only a boy,” Old Mebby said apologetically. “But I remember he said that magic is like water in a bowl left out in the sun. Eventually, the water will dry up, you see?”

  “Unless you pour more in?” said Nyfe.

  “Unless it rains,” Mebby corrected, smiling with his gums. “Sun dries up the water, but then it forms clouds and the sky lets it back down again. A natural process, you see, Pirate Queen? Always the same amount of water, just some in the bowl and some in the clouds.”

  This made sense to Flick. Magic was a type of energy, so it could change just as light changed into heat when you left a lamp on for a long time.

  She blinked as another thought occurred.

  If magic was like water stored in a bowl, what would happen if there was a leak?

  Could it run out?

  Worry lurched in her insides, and she gripped at the rock to steady herself. For a moment she felt as if she could almost see the golden-white magic spiraling down into some sort of dark multiverse drain, never to be seen again.

  Nyfe was thanking the old man and putting a finger to her chin as she thought. Flick wondered if the voices in the cave were whispering to her. She didn’t like the thought very much. Nyfe was enough of a force by herself.

  “How can we leave our entire world?” someone called out, clearly unable to wait until his leader had finished considering.

  “People have come here from other worlds before,” Nyfe said, shrugging.

  “Yes, but we are no wizards. We are sailors. Fishers. Soldiers. We don’t have a way of finding other worlds.”

  Jonathan shifted on the rock, and Flick wished more than ever that she had the suitcase in her hand.

  “And why do we need to parley with the Queen of Weeds, anyway?” someone else shouted. “What’s she giving us?”

  “Nothing,” Nyfe said.

  There was a sudden dull roar of activity, as everyone began to voice an
opinion.

  “The mer are our enemies!”

  “An alliance would never work!”

  “They’re thieves and godless fish!”

  “Hardly godless,” Jonathan murmured to Flick. “My guidebook says the mer-people have over a dozen different gods for the tides alone.”

  Nyfe folded her arms, and the hubbub died down. She glared out into the audience. “I know nothing of the ways of gods,” she said, “but I know the sea. And I know this world. It is decreasing every moment. Would you have me leave others to die?”

  There was a current of uncertainty.

  “It is time to make allies of our old enemies, to have them on our side. To figure out a plan—together.”

  “You’d join forces with our enemies?” A man stepped forward. It was Jask, the man they’d passed on their way into the caves. Flick tensed all over. She’d been right to be worried about him. Jask sneered, his teeth sharp. “You’d offer those killers—those thieves and murderers—safe passage? This could be our chance to get rid of them once and for all.”

  “You’d rather have dead bodies than greater forces?” Nyfe asked, as if bored.

  “Aye,” he said. “I would. They’ve never given us reason to trust them, and if anyone has to offer the hand of friendship, it shouldn’t be us. We might get bitten.”

  There were scattered cries of “AYE!” from the back of the cavern.

  Flick pinched Jonathan’s sleeve. He glanced at her, eyes wide, face pale. “This could end badly,” he breathed.

  Jask folded his arms. “You’ve been a solid leader, Nyfe, but you’ve got the softness of a woman when it comes to the difficult decisions. I think you should reconsider your position.”

  “I will not.”

  “Then”—Jask put a hand to his cutlass—“I’ll ask you to step aside, Pirate Queen. If our world is in such a state as you say it is, we need firm leadership. Leadership that can withstand the future.” He inched the sword out, enough to show the blade.

  The audience gasped, and there were shouts of displeasure at the scene. But there were also some scattered roars of encouragement, and that made Flick extremely nervous. Jask looked confident. If it came to a fight between him and Captain Nyfe, Flick had to admit that at first glance they looked equally matched.

  Nyfe raised a hand.

  Flick expected a sword to be put into it.

  But instead, Nyfe swept her arm out in a clear invitation. She put her head to one side and stepped down from the platform, so neither of them had the high ground. “I see you challenging, Jask Irontasker,” she said. “But you don’t move. Do you yield before you’ve tried to strike a blow?”

  “Your sword,” Jask said uncertainly. “You don’t have it.”

  “What does that matter?”

  He glanced at the people watching. “Nyfe, this isn’t honorable. You’re doing this to shame me.”

  “Yes,” she said. “I am.”

  “Nyfe.” Jask unsheathed his cutlass completely and held it out. “I don’t wish to fight an unarmed sailor, but if I have to…”

  “If you want me to step aside,” Nyfe said, stepping close enough for the sword to reach her if Jask swung it, “you will have to.” Jask was still. Nyfe reached up and adjusted her eye patch. “Not ready to fight an unarmed woman lacking an eye, Irontasker? You criticized my softness, but here you are the one pausing. How soft of you.”

  There was some laughter from around the cavern. Flick realized the joke was on the man holding the sword. This seemed to flip a switch in his mind. He drew his arm back, and Flick saw his thick muscles tense; then he thrust the blade forward, hard.

  Flick gasped.

  But Nyfe moved like a snake.

  She grabbed his sword arm with one hand, bringing her other down like a lump hammer on Jask’s tattooed forearm.

  The CRACK echoed around the cavern like an explosion.

  Jask screamed, his legs giving way. Nyfe lifted his broken limb higher, forcing Jask to try to stand. Avery was hiding behind her hands, and Jonathan had gone as green as Flick felt.

  “Do you still want to fight?” Nyfe asked Jask.

  “No!” he yelled, tears and sweat pouring off his face.

  She looked at him impassively, still holding his arm. “No?”

  “No, my—no, Captain!”

  That seemed to be good enough. Nyfe dropped him, and Jask screwed himself up into a ball, cradling his arm.

  “You see?” Nyfe shouted to the onlookers. “You try to harm an unarmed foe, and it comes back to hurt you. The mer-folk are our enemies, yes. We have a chance to drive a blow at them that they will never recover from, yes. But we will not. Fighting a dishonorable fight brings only pain. Back away when you can, when the world offers you the chance to change your actions. Not afterward.” She looked at Jask. “Someone see to his arm. And who is first mate of the Sola?”

  “I am, Pirate Queen.” A woman raised a hand.

  Nyfe nodded. “Take control of the Sola, Jennirum, until your brother is fit to turn the helm again.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Does anyone else object to joining forces with the Queen of Weeds?” Nyfe called.

  The answer came back instantly. “NO, CAPTAIN.” Water droplets rained from the ceiling as the cavern shook with shouted calls and stamping feet.

  Jonathan puffed out a breath. “Well. That certainly shows us what we’re dealing with.”

  “Yeah,” Avery said, staring. “A woman who can break a man’s arm with one punch. I feel really reassured.”

  Flick nodded weakly. She felt slightly light-headed, as if she’d learned something she wished she could unlearn rather quickly. “Yeah,” she said. “Super safe.”

  They looked back at the scene.

  Nyfe had lit what looked like a sparkler. She was using it to draw in the air. But unlike the sparklers Flick used on Bonfire Night, the shapes Nyfe drew didn’t fade. They lingered in the air, a sort of burnt-orange glow of light against the cavern gloom.

  “We sail tonight,” Nyfe said, still drawing what was now clearly a map. “Around the Break. Larger ships to follow the smaller. We don’t need to lose anyone in the wake. Smaller ships leave immediately, larger within the next two hours. Go around the Break and moor at the Cove of Voices. You will encounter mer-folk as you sail. Do not provoke them. We are allies. We aim for the same end. Understand me?”

  “AYE, CAPTAIN.”

  “Very well. Dismissed. Back to your ships, the lot of you.” Nyfe blew out the glowing sparkler, and a thin trail of smoke kissed over her face.

  11

  Jereme tapped Flick on the arm. “The captain wants the three of you aboard her ship.”

  “Really?” Flick felt her insides tense.

  “Not an honor I’d refuse,” Jereme said plainly.

  “Not more than once, anyway.” Edony appeared and nudged him aside. She had put her coat back on, and in the gloom she looked like a looming shadow. “I’ll escort you. Your clothes have already been taken aboard.”

  The three of them scrambled down the rocks to the walkway and followed Edony out of the cove. She didn’t seem to believe in politeness—she barged into the people ahead of her, expecting them to give way, and snorted and huffed if they didn’t.

  “Why does Nyfe want us on her ship?” Flick asked when they paused for a moment, caught behind a slow-moving family. After what they’d just seen, she felt safer with Edony than she would have if they’d been walking with Captain Nyfe.

  “You’re important people, you suitcase-bearers,” said Edony. “Nyfe isn’t going to leave any ship to shelter you. She wants you on the best there is.”

  “Where she can keep an eye on us?” Flick suggested.

  Edony grinned. “That’s part of it, yes.”

  Flick did not feel reassured at that.

  At that moment, Captain Nyfe stomped past them, Jereme at her heels. She gave them a curt nod as she swept past. Once out in the fresher air, she was stopped by a group of
sailors, who crowded around her eagerly.

  “Where is the ship?” Flick asked.

  But her question wasn’t answered. Instead, there came a frightened yell from the other end of the jetty.

  “Captain! Look!”

  Heads swiveled to look at a sailor, who was pointing out to sea, one hand to their hat.

  “Look!” they shouted. “It’s happening.…”

  Everyone, Flick and the others included, crowded to the edge of the jetty. Nyfe took a collapsible telescope from her belt and pulled it to length before putting it to her eye.

  But the telescope was unnecessary.

  There was a sudden shaft of light on the horizon, shooting up from the dark ocean, splintering into the air. And along with it came a noise—a sound like the crunch of rock on rock, except one hundred times louder.

  Flick gasped as a section of the seafloor rose above the edge of the horizon, the sea gushing from it like water pouring off a plate. Part of the edge of the world had broken away completely, and was rising up like it weighed nothing. It hovered in the air, a chunk of sparse, bare rock caught in the beam of light, and then the rock glowed bright white and vanished completely.

  There was no twinkle or sparkle of magic (Flick cursed not getting the magnifying glass out of her pocket, but in the shock of the moment she simply hadn’t remembered), no floating dust, not even a sound to accompany the disappearance. One moment the rock was there, the next it had vanished. The world of the Break was now smaller—Flick had seen it happen with her own eyes.

  The horror of it was all-consuming; it felt as if she had been hollowed out and filled with cold cement. This was nothing like the breaking up of the City of Five Lights, where streets had vanished but the world had knitted together to hide the fact they had ever existed. This was a brutal breakage of the world for all to see.

  It was awe-inspiring and terrible. The world of the Break was too far gone to save—Flick knew that deep in her soul. The pirates here didn’t hoard magic, they barely used it at all. Like the old man had said, the magic in the world should be held safe in a bowl, but it was leaking away so fast it was taking huge chunks of the world with it at a time. There was no supply of magic to release back into the world—it was simply being stolen, taken away, removed. And it could never be replaced.