“Mama!”
A harsh laugh. “I’m not your mama, but we can find her and take her with us if you want!”
Antonio came towards me and pulled me out of the vault. The fisherman was guarding the steps again, so when Antonio let go of me to lock the door, there was nowhere for me to run, even if my cold, numb legs would have let me. Antonio passed the key back up to the fisherman. I heard the fisherman laugh and say something, then a shadow moved away from him.
“That was the easiest sixpence he ever earned,” the fisherman said. “Just for the loan of a key. I hope I get my money back, Antonio.”
“Once she’s on the ship, you’ll have your payment as we agreed.” Antonio held up his lantern so I could see the impatience on his face. “Time to walk. And walk fast!”
I knew the path we were taking down French Street and on to the quay. I should scream now. I had nothing to lose. If the ship was already waiting, they had no time to hurt Mama. I took a deep breath.
“Hel—” A hand clapped across my mouth. The stink of pitch filled my nostrils.
“I thought you wanted your mama safe,” the fisherman whispered in my ear. “For sixpence, Master Geoffrey’s butler will loan me a key to his vault. There are desperate men in this town who will take my money to do far worse. Your mama will not be safe until Antonio’s boat leaves these waters.”
The quay was deserted. I looked back towards the ramparts crowning the wall and wondered about the guns and archers who defended the town. Was there no one looking down who could defend me? Would they see the splashes of light from our lanterns and wonder who we were? They’d probably just think we were sailors returning from a good meal in a tavern. A ship was anchored further out in the river. That must be where we were heading. The journey there would not be long. My time had run out.
The fisherman walked ahead of me, Antonio behind. The steps down to the quay were slippery with seaweed and I stumbled. Antonio muttered something about not damaging the goods and held my shoulders. Their rowing boat was moored near the steps and Antonio guided me towards it. A thin length of rope was coiled across its seats.
The fisherman saw me looking.
“I can’t have you swimming back to shore,” he said.
I wished I could. I wished I had made Mama show me how swimming was done. I wished I could slip over the side of the boat and float back to safety. Now the fear was already rising in me as the boat rocked on the tide. The fisherman jumped in. He wobbled a little but quickly regained his balance.
“Now you,” Antonio said.
The tide made the boat veer away from the jetty.
“Steady it, will you?” the fisherman shouted.
Antonio yanked the mooring rope and pulled the boat closer.
“Hurry up!” he growled at me.
I took a step. The boat jerked at the rope and water lapped over the jetty on to my feet. Antonio swore, picked me up and dropped me into the puddle of water at the bottom of the boat. He unhooked the rope from its mooring and stepped in. He picked up an oar and pushed off from the jetty. The fisherman pulled me up to tie my wrists, testing his knot to make sure it was tight. I imagined my skin straining around my bones, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know that it hurt.
“You row,” Antonio said. “I’ll guard her.”
The fisherman grumbled about not being anyone’s servant, but picked up the oars and started rowing. Each splash of wood into water was taking me further away from home. My fear became a solid lump inside my stomach. The River Test was not as rough as the Thames, but it was hard to forget how small our boat was and how wide and deep the water. The waves rocked us. The motion of the oars rocked us. The growing breeze blowing in from the sea rocked us. I closed my eyes, but that made it worse because there was nothing to distract me. I opened them again. The ship ahead grew closer. It wasn’t a big ship, but I’d seen vessels that size on the Thames that had sailed in from foreign lands. It was big enough to take me far away.
I heard a splash from back near the shore.
“What was that?” the fisherman asked.
Antonio picked up the lantern. “Nothing.” His face was serious though. “We’re nearly there. Speed up.”
The fisherman had already started rowing quicker. He turned to judge his distance when the boat tipped sideways. He shrieked. There was a scream in my throat too, but it caught halfway.
“What are you doing?” Antonio yelled.
“Nothing!” the fisherman yelled back.
“Well, do something!”
The boat lurched again, even harder. We were thrown sideways. Antonio’s elbow cracked against the wood and he swore loudly. I looked up at Heaven. Maybe it was my time to die. Maybe my time had really been when I tumbled out of the wherry into the Thames. Mama shouldn’t have saved me. If I’d let Griffin read my stars, he would have told me that my destiny was to drown. I’d avoided it the first time, but now it had come looking for me.
“Hands!” the fisherman shouted. “Did you see the hands?”
Antonio looked left and right. “You’re mad! The only hands are yours and they’re not on the oars. Row, will you!”
We were so close to the ship I could see the sailors moving around the deck. A sail had been loosened and the wind had turned it into a taut triangle on a high mast.
As the fisherman grabbed the oars, the boat listed again. This time I saw the hands before they disappeared.
“It’s an octopus!”
