Lorali Page 19

  I have to get out. I can’t stay here.

  Then I hear voices.

  I flip onto my back. Could I escape?

  AGH, why don’t I know how to climb a tree? Of all the stupid stuff I did as a kid, why wasn’t tree climbing part of it? Shit.

  ‘Where is he?’ a voice says below. ‘Be a doll and bring him down for me, would you?’

  Him is me.

  I breathe hard. I am out of options.

  I can hear a woman’s gruff voice, flirting, giggling. She wants something before she hands me over.

  I peer over the nest. It’s that pirate. The same one. The one from The Serpent, the one from the shopping centre, the one who followed me back to the lighthouse.

  My heart begins to thud.

  Bang.

  Bang.

  Bang.

  I instinctively start climbing the trunk of the tree. It is a crispy old tree, covered in sap and more of that grimy, nasty bird shit and it keeps crumbling off in my hands like dried-up toothpaste. I try to carry my weight but I am so tired. Shit. And I have no shoes. I try again. Come on, legs, work.

  And then I hear another voice. One I recognise. One I know well. It can’t be. Not a chance. I peer over the nest again.

  Elvis.

  What? What is he doing here?

  And before I know it, one of the birds has me in her grasp and is winging me to the ground.

  ‘We know you lost her.’ The pirates circle me. My wrists are wrapped in rope. They are sore from where the bird women snatched me.

  ‘Lost who?’ I shake my head. I’m still pretending I don’t know who they mean. I know it means they might hurt me, torture me, even, but I can’t fall into this. I’d sooner die than give them any information about Lorali.

  ‘Oh, give it up. You had the girl.’

  ‘Why do you think I’d know anything anyway?’ I am hot. Getting sunburnt. Thirsty. Tired. Agitated. ‘You lot need to get off my back. Let me go. I don’t know who you mean, and why do you care anyway? I’m glad she got away, whoever she is, so she didn’t meet the likes of you!’

  One of the other pirates, a mad-looking one, lunges for me.

  ‘Jasper! No shank! No jook!’ the ringleader instructs. This Jasper skulks away. Pissed.

  Elvis. Why is he here? My own friend. Standing there. Now. He looks different. Older. Like a clone of himself. I think it’s cos he is scared; I’ve only ever seen him scared once like that before and that was when a man driving a truck nearly ran him over on his bike and yelled in his face to watch where he was going. That was minor in comparison.

  ‘Elvis … please? What’s going on?’ I plead with him.

  Elvis sheepishly looks to the floor.

  ‘Oh … so you two know each other? I see. Friends?’ The pirate giggles.

  I panic. Elvis is a prisoner too, isn’t he? Just not tied up. On some weird agreement, knowing Elvis. Just like him to find some way to hustle his way out of wearing ropes. He has probably come looking for me. He is probably undercover and I’ve just baited him up. Shit. Now the pirates know we are friends. I have to keep quiet.

  ‘No, we aren’t.’ Elvis lets the words fall out. ‘We aren’t friends at all.’

  Why is he lying? Does he have a plan? Good work, El. If he could just give me a signal, a sign. Let me know everything is OK. I don’t even care why he is here now. I just want to understand that we are in on this together. Hatch a plan. Make an escape and get away from these maniacs.

  ‘You two clearly have some peculiar bromance going on. Do you need a room?’

  ‘They can use mine!’ one of the bird women jokes, salivating at the thought; she obviously doesn’t get much young blood.

  I try to get Elvis’s attention, but he isn’t biting. ‘Elvis?’ I say. Loud. Clear.

  ‘Wait … now I know why I recognise you. You two were in the pub. Together. When I first saw you.’ The pirate clocks it.

  We fall silent.

  ‘That’s right. Now you boys got beef. Fallen out. Over a girl perhaps?’

  Elvis looks angry. Upset.

  ‘He was my best friend.’

  Was? What have I done wrong?

  ‘But then he dropped me.’

  WHAT?

  ‘You’re clearly vexed.’ The pirate touches Elvis’s shoulders in reassurance. ‘Really, I feel for you, bruv, and you can get your revenge, trust me. But only once I’ve got information from him.’

  I am proper baffled. What is going on?

  ‘El, what you on about …? I didn’t drop you.’

  ‘Yeah you did. I saw you. I saw you and Flynn and Flynn’s nutty old granddad that night, dancing and eating, and I saw you with that girl. Hiding her. I watched you. I watched you all that night. Having the best time. Without me. She saw me. That’s when I knew you were avoiding me. Keeping a secret from me. You both ignored all my calls. That’s NOT what best mates do. She saw me.’ So it was him. Elvis. Not the pirates. He is losing it. He isn’t acting himself.

  ‘Who is “she”? What girl?’ The pirate turns. ‘See, Rory? We know you know something.’

  I bite down. Elvis. Man, whatever his plan is better be good.

  ‘Elvis,’ the pirate instructs, ‘refresh your ex-best-friend’s memory for me, would you? Which girl?’

  ‘HER! THE girl.’ Elvis is angry. He is trembling. I didn’t know he saw us. I should have answered the phone. I shouldn’t have left him out. Ignored him. He is genuinely hurt, isn’t he? He isn’t the thick-skinned Elvis I always thought of him as.

  ‘Carry on …’ the pirate says. ‘Let it go, get it off your chest.’

  ‘You blanked me every day. I always knew you and Flynn were closer than me, that you’d been mates longer, but it didn’t matter what I did, how hard I tried, you and him always liked each other better.’

  ‘Mate, El, that’s not true.’ I try to struggle free. I need him. He is all I have here. The other pirates watch on. The Sirens crack their necks and lick their lips. They love the drama. Perving on it.

  ‘Then when the girl came it was your little secret and you left me out. You didn’t answer the phone; you ignored me. I would have helped you. I would have made it better. I am smart, you know.’

  I try to calm him down. ‘I know you are. I know you are.’

  The pirate nods. ‘You are. Very bright.’

  Shut up. Stop brown-nosing Elvis!

  ‘Can I please just speak to my mate?’ I snap.

  ‘I am NOT your mate!’ Elvis screams. He picks up a big stick from the ground and holds it above my head. Is he going to hit me? I’ve never seen him like this. This charged. This angry. He is playing up. Just trying to act like the big boy.

  ‘Now, now, not violence. This here is your comrade.’ The pirate shushes Elvis, batting down the stick.

  Elvis huffs and puffs with rage. It must be the adrenalin. Showing off. Proving himself.

  ‘Where is the girl?’ the pirate asks me. ‘Where have you put her?’

  ‘I told you. I haven’t got her.’

  ‘So where have you hidden her? The last time I saw you, you were buying her clothes, and then you ducked when you saw me.’

  I close my eyes. I want to die. I wish none of this had ever happened.

  ‘I haven’t seen her since.’

  ‘But you headed back to the lighthouse after your little shopping spree and I thought … No … he hasn’t got her, but then …’

  ‘You followed me back!’ I am fuming with anger.

  ‘Yes, we did, well spotted. Because we thought you’d have the girl. But alas. We’d already visited the lighthouse.’

  I shake my head. I keep replaying Mum’s desperate fight for me. Over and over.

  ‘Well, if you haven’t got any information for us, and you lost her, or deny you lost her, you’re no use to us, are you? You’re just an extra mouth to feed.’ The pirate pulls a small flick knife from his pocket and starts to play catch with it. ‘So we may as well kill you now.’ He grins. ‘The girls are hu
ngry, aren’t you, girls? Come on, all together now …’ He pours into song: ‘Feed the birds, tuppence a bag … Rory, tell me, have you seen Mary Poppins? It’s my best one. I always wanted a Mary Poppins, didn’t you? A lady to come down from the sky to fix everything?’

  I say nothing, watching him strut about. I hate him. I hate everybody. I wish I could kill them all.

  The pirate chuckles. He is a fucking psychopath. ‘That’s right.’ He slicks back his hair, gaining control again. ‘There’s something about you I like. So, OK, one more time for luck –’ he presents the knife again, close to my face – ‘Where’s the girl?’

  ‘I’ve told you,’ I whimper. I find the strength to sigh. ‘I don’t know.’ A tear falls and then –

  ‘I do,’ Elvis croaks, his face as white as bone. ‘I know where she is.’

  LIGHT

  ‘It was our lucky day,’ one of them sniggers. ‘There we were, following that old crock of shit boat with them sodding amateur Ablegares aboard and then, what are the chances … Princess Lorali is getting chauffeur-driven across the ocean by a little boy.’ The man laughs. Dirtily.

  ‘It was like being handed a golden platter. Like stealing sweeties from a baby, wasn’t it?’

  ‘You should have killed him,’ one of the Cavity women mutters. ‘Slit his throat right there.’

  I have to agree with them now.

  ‘Nah, he was young. He has something, that boy.’

  ‘Let him live with sin. The guilt will kill him. Far more fun.’

  ‘Besides, if I slaughter him now, who would be my messenger? Pass on the beautiful bad news that the Cetus Cavities are coming?’

  ‘You’re so dirty, Cornway.’

  ‘Half the fun though, innit? The chase.’

  ‘Right, let’s get her out.’

  ‘Pity she ain’t got her tail no more.’

  ‘Price for newly resolved royal tapestry. My god.’

  ‘Still, better we have her than any of them others. That queen will sacrifice one of them for the return of this one. I wonder what her legs can do …’

  ‘Or what’s in between ’em, more like.’

  They laugh. Dirty. Disgusting. Wretched. Filthy. Snigger. Cackle.

  My heart explodes. I am fierce. A monster. Blood rages through my arteries. I feel my premature legs lock. It gives me strength. Adrenalin.

  I think of Rory. Whether or not he loves me back, I know I love him.

  They open the lid again. A few of them tower over me now. Faces blackened. I can’t even tell their sex. Their race. They are drenched in years of oil from the Cetus. Thick black sludge. Men and women, I’m sure. But it is difficult to tell the difference. They have long sticky hair, overgrown; they are a new species entirely. Inbred. Unfinished. Terrible.

  And before I know it, I am fighting their faces. Ripping, pulling, tearing, biting, kicking, hitting, slapping – and they are laughing at my efforts. Pushing me, elbowing me, humouring me.

  And then one of them, a woman I’d guess, something in her arm, a weapon, heavy, lifts her arm high above my head and I am out. Cold.

  OLD FRIENDS

  I want to kill.

  My ears do not accept the information.

  For her tapestry? For her tail? He swapped her? Lorali. My girl. To the Cavities? The CAVITIES? The ones that took Lorali’s grandmother? I can see that the pirates are not best pleased with him either. They are gathering their shit together, getting ready to set sail. They want to find her too. But why? Why can’t they all just leave her alone? Let things remain as they were?

  Then it dawns on me once more how little I know about this strange girl. About Lorali. Yeah, I know her as a human. Who she is now. That she loves eating raw butter and she loves music. And the stupid glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling. But even Iris said that all Mer had been salvaged, that they had history … so what is hers? Does she know these boys? Had this pirate fallen for her too once before? Iris said the Mer remain the age they were when salvaged … so how old is she? And he said that they have minimal memory, if at all, of their time as a human … so maybe she doesn’t even remember what happened to her? She could be running around making dickheads like me fall for her all over the world and then pissing off. For all I know I am just another mug in the waiting line …

  I don’t know her at all.

  Then again …

  I didn’t know Elvis either and we’d been friends since we were kids. Look where that has got me. I don’t want to know Elvis at all now.

  I am still tied to this post. The pirates stand around me, sorting their stuff, sussing what to do next with me. I guess they don’t need me any more. I am useless to them now Elvis has fessed up. I am a waste.

  I am fuming. Fuming and shoeless. It is almost laughable.

  I kick the stump I am tied to. My skull hits it as I rebound. It feels like blood but I don’t care. I can feel Elvis’s eyes watching me. He comes close. But not close enough to untie my wrists. Not that I want anything from him. I wish I was free just so I could escape him.

  ‘Rory, I’m sorry,’ he tries. ‘I am. I didn’t know how much she meant to you. I was jealous. I thought if I got rid of her then we could all just go back to being friends like before.’

  ‘Don’t talk to me,’ I snarl.

  ‘But we can get out of this together. Let me help you. These pirates are proper safe. Otto, he’s the main one, he’s letting me stay with them. He’s made me a pirate – me! He actually said that I’m recruited. Can you believe it, Ror? How cool is that?’ He is trying to convince me to trust him but it is coming across as arrogant self-obsessed shitty bullshit. AGAIN.

  ‘Do one, Elvis.’

  ‘Rory, you have a right to be mad, but are we really going to sacrifice years of friendship over some dumb girl? If you just stay quiet I might be able to convince them to make you a pirate too. Otto is so safe. You’ll get on like a house on fire … Look how sick these boys look … What a life – sailing, shooting, lighting cannons, finding treasure, getting pissed, getting with exotic women all around the world!’ He is trying to joke, but it isn’t funny. He is desperate. ‘Please, Ror. I can’t guarantee that they will spare you the way they’ve spared me, so let me save you. I mean, it’s obvious that I’ve got what it takes to be a pirate but I just don’t know if your skills immediately shine out on a first impression. Come on, mate?’

  I don’t want him to say another word. I look him dead in the eyes. ‘If being kept alive meant one more day spent with you, I’d rather be dead. I don’t ever want to see you again,’ I spit. ‘Ever.’

  Elvis’s face falls; he prods me in the forehead with his finger. ‘Be a dickhead then, Rory. See how far that gets you. You’ll regret that mistake.’

  The Sirens begin to moan and cry when the pirates take to the ship. They are a right bunch of sluts. I hate them. I wish my mum had killed them. The pirates pretend to miss them already but I can see the loathing in their eyes. They can’t wait to leave. It doesn’t matter where you come from, if you don’t fancy someone back, well … you just don’t.

  Watching Elvis dicking about, acting like a pirate, is ridiculous. It is like watching a kid that has been given an empty saucepan and wooden spoon to play with whilst their mum makes dinner and the kid thinks he’s the one doing all the hard work. Searching for approval. It sickens me. He is a cheat.

  The Sirens are watching me. A couple have already sniffed me out properly and are probably planning what to do with me. I bet they are the kind of cannibals that eat you raw. Just bite into your side or whatever. Shit, why am I torturing myself? I don’t want to be eaten alive!

  The big pirate, I think Elvis said his name was Egor, the hench one, lifts me and the stump out of the ground, proper de-roots us both, and carries me over his shoulder.

  ‘PUT ME DOWN!’ I wail, my veins squeezing out of my neck.

  ‘Quiet,’ Egor says. ‘Save your energy.’

  So I shut up. There is something cinematic about his voice that just make
s me clam up. The girls wave goodbye to me, pretending to wipe puppy-dog tears from their eyes, whilst some scratch their arses. Then they run to the ship where the rest of the pirates are already waiting, including Elvis. Prick.

  Egor carries me aboard. I can’t believe it. This is a ship. It looks like an old-fashioned house … but it’s a boat. But I am so scared. I am breathing hard. My wrists are killing. My arms hurt. My shoulders feel crushed. My neck is wrecked. I am positioned on the main bit of the boat. I don’t know what it’s called. I’m surprised by how clean and tidy it is. The boat itself is old but it’s still so grand and elegant. Regal. Proper …

  I see them now. These pirates. Otto. Yes. Jasper. He looks nutty. His eyes all wild. Oska. He is smoking. The bearded one … OK. And the one who lifted me, Egor. Then there is Elvis, still trying to look cool. Thinking he is some kind of boss, winding a telescope in and out. What a plum. He’ll ask for a parrot, a patch and a sodding peg leg in a second. Cringe.

  ‘WAIT!’ whimpers a scratchy voice from the island. It’s one of the bird women. ‘WAIT!’ she caws. ‘You’re not dumping us yet again for them ridiculous fishy fannies, are you? Why eat fish when you can eat bird?’ Her face peers over the side of the boat.

  The other girls join in. ‘Where’s our payment?’ another sniffs. ‘I don’t think so, Ablegares.’ They pout, but with greed in their eyes. ‘A deal is a deal. You promised us the boy if we went hunting for you.’

  Otto looks irritated. He doesn’t have the time for this. Elvis shrugs at me like told you so. So smug. I want to rub that face right off him.

  ‘I did?’

  ‘Don’t try it, Ablegares. Yes, you did. You said once you’d talked to him, if he didn’t know where the girl was, that you’d feed him to us. It’s dangerous for us to go to land. We’re starving. It’s not our problem the boy doesn’t have the girl. We brought him back unharmed, didn’t we? We made a deal.’

  ‘A promise is a promise; I appreciate you risking your lives for me, ladies, and bringing back the boy.’ Otto sighs deeply. Surely he could just sail off? Then again the women do have claws and wings. ‘You kept your side of the bargain, now I’ll keep mine.’ Otto looks me up and down.