Devil's Rock (23 page)
Authors: Chris Speyer
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As he began to climb, it occurred to Zaki that, in all the years they had been coming to the Orme, he and Michael had never attempted to scale the rock. Had they been told not to? He couldn’t remember it ever being discussed. Perhaps it just lay outside their private world of Dragon Pool. It wasn’t particularly difficult but in the twilight it was hard to scout out the best route and on several occasions Zaki found he had reached an impasse or an overhang and had to climb back down and search for another way up. His bulky wet-weather clothing got in the way and snagged on the protruding roots and branches of the stunted gorse bushes that grew out of the cracks and crevasses. He considered taking it off, but his clothes underneath were wet through and the waterproofs gave some protection from the biting wind.
When he reached the summit, he was careful to keep low. The top of the rock was like a miniature plateau, dipping slightly to the middle. There were some larger gorse bushes and a few weathered boulders but otherwise it was quite bare.
He wanted to know what Maunder was doing but he didn’t want to be seen, so he crept forward using the bushes and boulders for cover. In the near-darkness, with the howl of the wind drowning out all sound of his movement, he was able to get within a few metres of Maunder and remain undetected.
Maunder was removing the stones that covered his hoard. He was bent over, throwing the stones aside as fast as he could, without looking up, without stopping – like a dog, thought Zaki, digging for a bone. What did he intend to do with it all when he uncovered it? Would it still be of any value?
Zaki strained his eyes to see if Maunder was still wearing the bracelet. Yes – good. He could find out what Maunder was thinking. Zaki took the other bracelet out of his pocket and slipped it on to his own arm. He was careful to keep his own mind quiet. He listened – there was nothing. There were no thoughts. Maunder was acting out of some base instinct – the desire to reclaim what he felt to be his. He was like a beast that will fight to the death to defend its territory. After so many years in the cave, his spirit was less than human. Lying on the wet ground in his wet clothes with nothing but a gorse bush between him and Maunder, Zaki shuddered. But this creature was not just Maunder, it was also Michael – Michael, who had taught Zaki to row, to build dams, to ride dragons. This was his big brother, his remover of obstacles. He had to reach Michael – wake him – bring him back. The bracelets connected them. He must think things that Michael, and not Maunder, would understand.
Two boys astride a dragon. The smaller one behind – the bigger one holding the reins. The smaller boy has his arms around his brother; his head is turned to the side and rests against his big brother’s warm back. They are flying high, so high that, although the earth is already in darkness, they are still in the light. The dragon has huge golden wings that shimmer and flash as they beat up and down, catching the last rays of the setting sun. The dragon’s body, legs and tail are jewelled with sparkling, green scales. Flames leap from the dragon’s mouth. Now they are plunging down, down – the boys waving and whooping with excitement.
Zaki saw all this in his mind. But when he looked up, he saw that Maunder was looking up – staring in astonishment because in the sky there was a great, fire-breathing dragon with two boys on its back.
In the glow from the dragon’s fiery breath Zaki could see that Maunder’s face was changing, softening – the terrible white scar fading to nothing. And it was no longer Maunder but Michael who stood there, face upturned, watching their dragon. The bracelet on Michael’s wrist lit up; the engravings flashed and danced.
Zaki sprang to his feet, ripped the bracelet from his brother’s arm and hurled it with all his strength over the cliff. He watched it fall, still shining, spinning around and around, until it was swallowed by the dark heaving waters below. When he looked back, the dragon had gone.
Michael’s legs slowly bent, folding under him, until he was sitting on the pile of stones. He hunched his shoulders, wrapped his arms around himself and began to shiver. Zaki took a step towards him but stopped when he heard the roar of powerful engines out to sea. An elongated circle of bright light swept across the water and seemed to bounce along the reef. The beam halted when it found the wrecked yacht on the bar.
The noise of the engines came closer, the unmistakable throaty growl of a lifeboat. Now the light was searching the water and rocks near the wreck, probing the darkness. A second finger of light shot out from the boat and slid up the rock. Zaki raised his arms and waved wildly. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Michael was also standing. The light stopped short of the summit and slid back down.
‘They haven’t seen us. We’ve got to get down. They won’t look for us up here.’ Michael look dazed and confused. Zaki took him by the arm. ‘Come on – follow me. I know the way.’
Climbing down in the darkness was more difficult than climbing up and Michael needed constant prompting and guidance. Several times Zaki missed his footing and almost fell but halfway down the searchlights found them and the rest of the climb was easier.
As soon as they reached the bottom, an inflatable rescue boat darted through the reef and around the rock to meet them. There, strong arms helped them aboard and they were whisked swiftly out to the waiting lifeboat.
‘Are there any others?’ asked the lifeboat’s coxswain as soon as they were inside. Zaki explained about the two aboard
Morveren
and the crew of the rescue boat was dispatched to fetch them. Zaki wanted to go with them but the coxswain wouldn’t hear of it.
‘Did you get our Mayday?’ Zaki asked.
‘They picked it up in Plymouth. That’s where the inshore rescue boat came from. But it was your grandad who knew where to find you. He called us out. Seems he guessed you’d be here. Though heaven knows why anyone would try to get into the Orme in this weather. Good thing you fired that flare, though.’
Flare? There was no flare. The dragon. Zaki looked at Michael –
their
dragon. No way of explaining that to their rescuers.
As soon as Anusha and Rhiannon were safely on the lifeboat, exhaustion took its toll. And afterwards Zaki’s memory of the trip back to Salcombe seemed a disordered jumble of noises and pictures: Michael, silent and dazed, wrapped in a silver survival blanket; Rhiannon with her head bandaged; Anusha, her face so pale, asleep in a lifeboatman’s arms; people asking questions that seemed to float in the air around him without finding answers; sudden, unexpected rushes of emotion – gratitude, guilt, elation. He remembered Anusha hugging him and one or other or maybe both of them crying. He remembered taking off the bracelet that was still on his wrist and giving it back to Rhiannon, and he remembered her saying, ‘I suppose that makes us even,’ and then suddenly smiling, and he had never thought she would have such a warm smile. And he remembered wishing and wishing Michael would say something, anything, to prove to him that he was bringing back the real Michael, the whole Michael and not just an empty shell.
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Of the faces in the small crowd that waited as they were helped off the lifeboat, his mother’s was the only one Zaki really saw. That face was still there many hours later when he opened his eyes after the deepest sleep of his life.
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Several weeks went by during which no one in Zaki’s family seemed to say very much about anything in particular, as though a need for quiet had settled on them all. Although they said very little to each other, they sought out each other’s company and if all four of them were at home at the same time they would usually be found in the same room. Zaki’s father gave up working late and meals were eaten together at the kitchen table. During this time, the house itself began to change. Small additions at first: a painting on the wall here, a blind for a window there. Then carpets were laid and shelves were built for books that had been in boxes since the last time the family moved. Zaki made a close study of his parents’ behaviour. They asked each other’s opinions about home improvements and discussed the usual domestic arrangements, but when they spoke it was with a slightly strained politeness that Zaki found unsettling.
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The way the story of the wreck of
Curlew
was reported in the local paper was that ‘Three brave young people from Kingsbridge rescued a lone sailor when her yacht was wrecked on the notorious Devil’s Rock.’ And that ‘Zaki Luxton, in a feat of quite remarkable seamanship, steered his family’s yacht through a maze of reefs in a south-westerly gale to effect the rescue.’ Grandad was generally considered to have been the source of the story.
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During a spell of calm weather,
Curlew
was refloated and towed back behind
Morveren
to Grandad’s slipway. Her black hull was deeply scarred and her rigging gone but Grandad set to work rebuilding her.
Zaki never saw Rhiannon at the boat shed, but when he asked his grandfather why he was repairing the boat he said, ‘Because she asked me to.’
Zaki and Anusha often wondered where Rhiannon went during the weeks when her boat was out of the water. Zaki thought she was probably at the old cottage but they decided she wouldn’t want them to go looking for her.
Then, on a raw, cold November morning, Grandad collected Zaki, Michael and Anusha and drove them to Salcombe to see
Curlew
launched. And Rhiannon was there to meet them.
At high tide,
Curlew
slid back into the water and lay rocking gently, her new varnish gleaming in the pale sunlight. Rhiannon stepped aboard, raised the sails and cast off. Zaki, Michael, Anusha and Grandad followed
Curlew
down the harbour in Grandad’s launch, stopping only when they reached the harbour mouth. As they watched,
Curlew
’s sails were lit up by the low winter sun, shone for a moment, and then faded as she vanished like a ghost ship into the morning mist.
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Anusha became a frequent visitor to the Luxtons’ house and one day when she, Michael and Zaki returned home after school, they found Grandad’s car parked outside and something very like a party going on, laughter erupting from the kitchen.
‘You’re just in time for the celebrations!’ Zaki’s mother called as they came in.
‘Why? What’s happened?’ asked Michael.
‘I’ve just sold the
Queen of the Dart
, that’s what’s ’appened, boy! And I’ve sold ’er for an awful lot of money!’ boasted Grandad.
‘You never!’ said Michael.
‘I ’ave. And guess what we’re going to do with all that money?’
Michael shrugged. ‘No idea, Grandad.’
‘We’re going to build another boat.’
‘What sort of boat?’ asked Zaki.
‘Do you remember this one?’ asked their father. And Zaki saw that the old plans were once more spread out on the kitchen table.
‘Do you want to sail round the world?’ asked their mum.
Zaki and Michael looked at each other.
‘Not if I have to share a cabin with him!’ said Michael.
‘Who’d want to share a smelly cabin with you?’ mocked Zaki in return.
‘Just have to go without you, then,’ their mother laughed.
‘Can I come?’ asked Anusha. All turned to look at Anusha who said, ‘Well? I mean it!’ – rather defiantly.
‘Better ask your parents, this time,’ said Grandad.
There followed an hour of heated argument over what the new boat should be called – which might have gone on all night if hunger hadn’t forced them to go out for fish and chips.
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Bloomsbury Publishing, London, Berlin, New York and Sydney
First published in Great Britain in 2009 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
36 Soho Square, London, W1D 3QY
Text copyright © Chris Speyer 2009
The moral right of the author has been asserted
This electronic edition published in January 2011 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
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A CIP catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978 1 4088 1828 2
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