Firebrand (9 page)

R
ose found my hand and twined fingers with me, but pulled away after just a moment. My pulse was fast, energy scattered. It was
our
ship, but we were shaking. How could we explain why we'd swum out in the middle of the night, or why Jerren was hiding with us?

The people in the corridor didn't speak, and finally they moved on. Not far, though—just to the end of the corridor, and Dare's cabin. That's when it dawned on me that they hadn't tried any other doors. They knew exactly which cabin they had come to see.

They were only in there a quarter-strike at most, which surprised me. We'd had days, and still hadn't discovered everything about the room. When they were done, they wasted no time returning to the deck and climbing down the rope ladder. It seemed like only a moment before I heard oars slicing into the water as their cutter retreated to Sumter.

I peered through the porthole, desperate to know who was out there. I was some way from the window so that they wouldn't see me lurking in the background even if they had been watching. They'd put out their lantern, however, and I couldn't see faces at all. I could only just make out their figures.

“They've gone,” I said.

Jerren huffed. “We're lucky they didn't find us.”

“No,” said Rose. “They knew we were here.”

Jerren turned his lantern back on, but covered it with a fold of his tunic to keep the glare down. In the faint amber glow it was difficult to see if he was amused by Rose's announcement or intrigued by it. “How come?”

“If Thomas and I could see the glow of your lantern in the window, it figures they could too, right?” she murmured. She tugged at her tunic, which hung tight against her chest. “Anyway, we're wet, so we must've left footprints along the corridor.”

I hadn't considered our tracks. But she was right: Even now we were dripping onto the wooden floor.

“Then why didn't they come in here?” demanded Jerren.

“Maybe for the same reason they didn't speak. Because they didn't want us knowing who
they
were.”

“They only went into one cabin,” I pointed out. “And last time I checked, the door to it was locked.”

Jerren clicked his tongue. “The men in this colony can open anything they want. Some of them used to be craftsmen. They know how to make things, fix things, and destroy them real effectively.” He made for the door. “As for that cabin, it's the only one they haven't seen. They might've been worried about what was inside.”

“Then why come at night? Why hide?”

Rose moved to the window and tried to spy the retreating cutter. “What are you thinking, Thomas?”

I was thinking about Dare's logbooks, and the pages explaining that he was attacking Hatteras as a way to get to the solution. Most likely, the Sumter colonists had never heard of a solution, and wouldn't know it was a person in any case. They probably hadn't even read the books. But instead, I said, “I'm thinking we need to get back to Sumter and hope that no one sees us.”

Jerren nodded. “Then we agree on something for once. Problem is, if Rose is right and they saw us, there'll be a welcoming crew at the main gate. We don't stand a chance of getting in without being noticed.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“We swim back by a different route.” He tapped the porthole. “Head to the nearest point of Sumter—the northern side. It's rocky at the base of the walls, so we can stop there. If there are no guards, we use the main entrance. If there
are
guards, we go the long way around to the animal enclosures. It'll take a while, but it's our best shot.”

“Are you sure you can get us in from there?” asked Rose.

“No. But I'm sure I can't get you in any other way.”

He turned off his lantern and we were swallowed by darkness. I led the way along the corridor, every plank and panel burned into my memory. We trod carefully across the deck and climbed down the ladder.

The water was calm. Quiet too, which meant that we'd have to worry about our strokes being heard. At least the breeze was blowing toward us from Sumter.

Jerren led the way, his powerful strokes easy to follow. When we were halfway across, he took an eastward turn. I wasn't sure why until I treaded water and caught a glimpse of the men standing atop the northernmost battlements, keeping watch. I hoped they were the same ones who'd ventured on board. Otherwise, we'd have even more people to avoid.

When we reached the rocky edge of the island, we climbed out and pressed ourselves against the fort's perimeter wall. It was slow going, but at least we were difficult to see.

“You do this often?” I whispered.

Jerren paused. “More than you'd think.”

No wonder he felt a connection with Alice.

Finally we turned a corner. Rock gave way to a paved path that ran beside the southernmost wall. The peninsula stretched into the darkness to our left. I could just see the outline of the enclosure, though the goats didn't stir as we stalked by.

After several yards, Jerren ran his hands across the wall. “There's a couple gaps in the brick here,” he said. “Good footholds. Then you grab the bolts in the wooden planks up there and . . .”

“And what?” I whispered.

He looked from Rose to me. “There's no way you're getting up here. Not in the dark. I know where to put my hands and feet, but you don't. And if you fall, well . . . getting caught would be the least of our worries.”

“So what are we going to do?”

He hesitated. “Okay, look, I'm going to climb over and create a diversion. Just something to distract the guards. Go around to the main gate and when the guards leave, get in quick. And I mean
quick,
understand? Head for the barracks. The ruins, you know? No one ever goes there at night. There should be stuff hanging up there too—maybe even blankets.”

Rose took my hand. “How will we get back to our room?”

“You won't. Not for a while anyway. Once the guards have given up, make a move. But not before.”

Jerren began to climb. He made it look easy, but I wasn't fooled. He was stronger than us, and knew where to put his hands and feet. When he reached the top, we approached the main gate. I didn't recognize the men keeping guard.

We lay on the grass, partly to keep low and out of sight and also to conserve energy. Now that we'd stopped moving, I felt tired and cold. Rose squeezed my hand tightly, eyes trained on the gate. For what seemed like an eternity, the guards remained still.

What if Jerren had double-crossed us? What if he was alerting the guards? My mind swam with possibilities.

Suddenly the guards looked over their shoulders. A moment later, they ran into the fort.

“Let's go,” Rose whispered.

We sprinted to the main gate. Luckily the guards had left it open. Once we were sure that no one was around, we headed for the barracks. We staggered through the maze-like crumbling walls, avoiding boxes and tools and clothes hung from crisscrossing lines. By the time we were safely hidden in one of the ruined rooms, the guards were returning to their post.

Rose pulled a few blankets from a drying line and spread them across the dusty ground. “We need to get these wet clothes off,” she said. “If we hang them up, they might dry by morning.”

We were shivering now, and I wasn't sure it was just because of the cold. I began to take off my tunic, and Rose turned away. But only for a moment. Then she was standing next to me, helping me. My tunic fell in a heap beside us.

I helped her too. She raised her arms and the damp cloth slid over her skin. I glanced at her breasts, and fought the urge to touch her. I wanted so much to look at her, but I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable. I wanted to speak, but I didn't know what to say.

The place was already quiet again, the diversion over as suddenly as it had begun. We hung up our tunics and removed the rest of our clothes.

Naked at last, Rose curled up in the blankets.

“So was it worth it?” I asked, joining her.

She gave a nervous chuckle. “I must admit, I do feel alive right now.”

“We still don't know what Jerren was doing there tonight.”

“No,” she agreed. “We don't.”

“And I can't stop thinking about—”

“Shh.” She placed a finger against my lips, silencing me. She ran the finger down my chin and across to my bare arm. “You have nice arms,” she said. “I like how I can feel every muscle.”

I felt the progress of her finger, sliding toward my hand, so light I couldn't tell whether she was touching my skin or just the hairs on my arm. All my senses focused on that one finger. By the time she reached my hand, my pulse was racing, each heartbeat so strong, I figured she could probably hear it.

We twined fingers. She was shaking. I wanted to pull her close to me, let us warm each other. I was as scared now as I'd been on the ship.

Rose let out a long breath. For a precious moment, I allowed myself to believe that it was a contented sigh, a sign that we could stay like this. But then she released my hand, and I knew that she still felt my echo. Felt the pain of my element flowing into her. Even weak, my element could be powerful enough to divide us.

We lay side by side, facing each other but not speaking. My pulse slowed completely, but it was too late for us to touch again. Finally, Rose turned away from me and pulled her blanket around herself.

We were apart once more. And Rose wasn't the only one crying.

I
barely slept at all. The ground was hard and I was afraid that I wouldn't wake up before the colony came to life in the morning.

I nudged Rose while it was still dark. We dragged our wet clothes back on, shook out the blankets and hung them back up where Rose had found them.

I peered over the crumbling walls to see if the coast was clear. The guards seemed to have left their posts, so we slipped out as far as the entry to the barracks. Then I checked again. It still seemed clear.

We didn't see anyone as we crossed the grounds and padded up the metal steps. Beyond the walls, the ship was still. Going over had been a mistake—one we couldn't repeat. We needed to embrace our new life and win the trust of everyone at Sumter. And we had to hope no one woke up as we crept back into our room.

At the end of the walkway, we turned into the corridor and stopped abruptly. Griffin and Nyla were sitting together, backs against the wall, a lantern between them and a small book in each of their laps. They startled as they saw us, and snapped the books shut.

Even in the low light I recognized the books. They were the journals we'd found back on Hatteras Island, hidden inside the Guardians' dune boxes. Before we'd left Roanoke Island, the journals helped Griffin uncover some of the colony's secrets. From the way he kept the book pressed against him now, I figured he'd discovered something else that interested him.

But why had he shown them to Nyla?

What. You. Doing?
I asked him.

He placed the book in his lap deliberately.
Reading
.

Why. With. Her?

“Because you weren't around,” muttered Nyla, before he could sign again.

I froze. “Wait. Did you really understand all that?” I asked her.

Nyla shook her head. “One or two signs, that's all. But I read your face well enough.” She added her book to the one in Griffin's lap. “Look. I get that you and Griffin are close. He's told me about you. But, you know, Griffin is the closest I've come to having a friend since I got here. So there's no way I'm going to tell anyone about what's in these books, all right? I promise.”

It still felt wrong to me. But from the way Griffin was avoiding my eyes, I was fairly sure he wasn't in the mood to discuss it. Besides, Nyla was probably the closest
he
had come to having a real friend too.

Rose pointed to the journals.
What. Find?
she asked Griffin.

Glancing from Rose to me, he opened the first journal and held it up. At the top of the page was a single word:
CROATOAN
.

Nyla pulled the journal around so that she could see it too. “What's Croatoan?” she asked.

I wished I knew exactly how much she'd already learned. “It was written on an old bridge column in the region we came from,” I explained. “Alice saw
CRO
written on the wall of a cabin over on the mainland too.”

Nyla never took her eyes off me. “But what does it
mean
?”

“Tarn says it's a legend—an ancient colony that disappeared.”

Griffin was still holding up the journal, his finger pressed against another line of text farther down the page. The handwriting was faint, the glow from the lantern barely enough to read by. But the words were all too familiar:
union of Ananias and Eleanor.

“Why does it say
that
?” Rose's voice shook. “I don't understand.”

Neither did I. Had Ananias and Eleanor been promised to each other? Had an arrangement been made without them knowing?

Griffin leafed through the pages again, stopping at one that featured a strange diagram, like the branches of a tree connecting different names. Ananias and Eleanor were joined by a straight line; another smaller line hung down from it, and beneath the line was the word
Virginia
.

Virginia. I'd read that name before, but I couldn't remember where.

Nyla handed Griffin the second journal—the one from our father's dune box. He opened it to a page I'd seen back on Roanoke Island. It was an illustration of a little girl with giant flames shooting from her fingertips. Beneath the drawing was the same word:
Virginia
.

Nyla must have seen this page too, but if so, she didn't seem to make anything of it. Maybe she thought it was just a picture, nothing more.

I studied the journals side by side. I had an inkling what it must mean, but it seemed impossible that there had been another Ananias and another Eleanor. And that they, too, had been connected.

Griffin tried to get my attention again. He was pointing to Ananias's last name: Dare. Before I could process this, he slid his finger above Eleanor's name. Her father was named John White.

I looked at my brother, confused. The name meant nothing to me, and yet Griffin behaved as though this name, not Dare, was the one I should be focusing on.

Exasperated, he stabbed a finger against the picture of Virginia in the other journal. Below it were two letters, presumably the initials of the artist:
J.W.

John White.

“What does this mean?” asked Rose.

I struggled to piece it together. “Tarn said Croatoan was a legend. But what if that ancient colony
didn't
disappear? What if these people were our ancestors?”

Rose continued to stare at the page. “The Guardians reused their names and possess their journals. I'd say we're definitely related.”

Griffin watched us carefully. He no doubt had ideas of his own. When he had my attention, he put down the book and signed:
Need. All. Dare. Logbooks.

No,
I responded, the motion short and sharp.
Dangerous.

“What's he talking about?” demanded Rose. “What Dare logbooks?”

Griffin was already annoyed at me. So was Nyla. But Rose would be angriest of all once she knew the truth.

“Answer me, Thomas,” she pressed.

I rubbed my eyes, heavy from tiredness. “Alice found a key to Dare's cabin. Griffin's been reading Dare's logbooks.”

Griffin waved a hand.
When. Get. Logbooks?

No,
I signed again. I pointed in the direction of the ship.
Much. Dangerous.

“He's trying to work out who we are,” snapped Rose.

“Doesn't matter.” I shook my head vehemently. “We have to stop this now. We could've been caught last night. We risked everything . . . and for
what
?”

Griffin slapped his palm against the book.
Sign!

I knelt down beside him, wishing so much that Nyla wasn't around to see all this.
No. More
. I picked up the two journals and laid them gently on the ground.
Everything. Different. Now.

I didn't expect him to agree, but I at least hoped that he'd understand.

We. Safe,
I tried again. He watched the signs, but I may as well have been speaking out loud for all the effect they had.
Safe.

Nothing. Safe,
he responded. He picked up the journals and pulled to a stand. With a nod to Nyla, he limped into the room where the others were still sleeping.

There was no mistaking the look Nyla gave me then. I'd broken up their meeting, and let Griffin down. Both were unforgiveable. She took the lantern beside her and turned it off, so that I could barely make her out as she retreated to her room.

Rose moved in front of me. “What's going on, Thomas?”

“I'm sorry. I should've told you about Dare's cabin—”

“I don't care about Dare's cabin,” she hissed. “When you first discovered your element, you said you wanted to know who you really are. Now you won't even let Griffin find out about himself. If he's the solution—”

“We didn't come here to find out if Griffin can cure the Plague.”

“I know. We came here to start a new life. But what about the old one?”

“The old one was a lie. You said so yourself.”

“That doesn't mean we can ignore it. If we pretend our life on Hatteras never happened, this place will be a lie too.” She crouched down beside me. “We can't ignore what we are, Thomas. We're elementals. What else do we have to offer this place?”

“There are other ways we can help.”

“Like what?”

I hesitated. “Food-gathering squads. Chief sends groups out to get food from other islands in the harbor.”

Rose leaned against the wall. “Tell me there aren't any rats.”

I wasn't willing to lie, so I said nothing.

“Let me get this straight,” she continued. “You'd sooner risk your life on a rat-infested island than let me use my element to catch fish.”

“We can't just live on fish, Rose. Chief says there are vegetable gardens on the islands. This is how life has to be here. We're part of this colony now.”

“Is that how it felt while we were hiding on our
own ship
last night? Like we were
part of it
?” She folded her arms. “Seems to me, Chief has you saying all the right things already.”

“He's a good man, Rose.”

“I hope you're right about that.” She looked over her shoulder at the empty parade grounds. Or maybe she was looking beyond, to the harbor, and the islands, and whatever might be on them. “At least tell me you'll take Griffin. If he's the solution, he can protect you—”

“No! Our elements are done now.”

She flared her nostrils. “Not using them doesn't mean they're done. We are what we are. Denying it doesn't change a thing.”

“I just want to keep him safe,” I groaned.

“So do I. But sooner or later you're going to have to let Griffin decide what he wants for himself. And whether or not there's such a thing as safe anymore.”