Island of Echoes (2 page)

I won’t deny that the
Bigorneau
was more attractive than most of the other vessels in the area, primarily local fishing boats and foreign transports, but I was very much caught off-guard by her statement. It was certainly not the kind of ship a noble would seek out. The Captain felt likewise. “We don’t often take on passengers, Lady Pearson,” he informed her. “I’m afraid our accommodations are quite meager.”

The woman studied the vessel as well as the three of us on deck. “I realize that, Captain, but I am prepared to pay handsomely for our transport. This is not a matter of comfort so much as a sensitivity of time. I have been up and down this pier for the last hour and the port master tells me your ship is the next returning to Europe.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact we were about to sail out.”

The woman’s eyes twinkled. “And how much for the lodging aboard your vessel? It would just be me, my granddaughter, and young Miss Cynthia over here,” she acknowledged the maid who had gotten our attention.

“I’m sorry, madam, but we only have one cabin left and it’s rather small. The bed could not fit more than two.”

“Very well,” Lady Pearson said without missing a beat, “just my granddaughter and I then. I suppose we can make-do without a personal maid for a few days. I will pay double rent on the one room.”

Captain Travert stole a glance back at the ship. “Do you not wish to inspect the cabin first?”

Lady Pearson looked him straight in the eyes. “I have a gift for reading people, Captain, and you do not strike me as the type to swindle an old woman. I simply wish to get home by the quickest means possible and right now that’s you.”

Travert contemplated this turn of events for a few seconds longer but eventually gave in. “In that case, it would be our pleasure,” he stated, the joviality returning to his voice.

Lady Pearson nodded with a smile and opened the carriage door. “Ella, dear, come on out. We’re leaving. William, be so kind as to bring the trunks aboard.” The coachman stepped down and began lowering the heavy luggage from the back of the vehicle.

I leaned over to
Rémy
. “You were right when you said departure was in season,” I whispered.

He smiled and proceeded down to help the coachman bring the trunks aboard. Lady Pearson’s granddaughter emerged from the enclosed carriage and looked up at the ship. Her dress was as blue as the sky, with dark ribbon creating an intricate pattern along its bottom. The bodice opened up to reveal a chic pink collar which matched the ruffles of her hat. But despite the extravagant attire, I was struck most by her face. She had fair skin, light chestnut hair, and looked to be in her early twenties. Her lips were darkened ever so slightly, accentuating her natural beauty. I was suddenly very grateful for the unexpected addition to our roster.

Both ladies stepped aboard with the exaggerated grace of high nobility. We greeted them out on deck. Travert introduced Rémy, Father Daniel, and me. “Lady Constance Pearson,” the elder woman stated, properly extending her hand, “and my granddaughter, the Lady Ella Pearson.” The younger woman looked up at me, her emerald eyes glittering in the sun. I noticed a sprinkling of freckles adorning her cheeks and I could feel myself blushing. I smiled and bowed my head.

The Captain showed them the door to their cabin, the one right beside my own. “Now if you’ll all excuse us,
Rémy
and I will take the ship out. I hope you’ll join us for dinner this evening.” He bowed his head respectfully and climbed the stairs to the bridge.

“Ella and I shall retire for a bit,” Lady Pearson stated. “It has been a long day.” They stepped into their cabin and closed the door. Father Daniel likewise excused himself and I was left alone on deck.

I stood there for some time, gazing out at the port. The etesian winds must have pushed the chaos of the docks inland, for I remember feeling very much at peace as I took in the view. I remained on deck as the
Bigorneau
glided through the harbor and the salty breeze picked up. I greatly enjoyed sea travel. The lulling of the ship created a calming atmosphere. We passed the citadel of Qaitbay, an imposing fortress of stone at the entrance to the harbor, and I realized with a small pang that I was saying goodbye to Africa after all these months. I watched the city recede on the horizon until
, just as the sun was going down, there was nothing but open water around us.

It was late into the night. Dinner had ended many hours earlier though the wine continued to pour without restriction.
Rémy
had taken over at the helm and
so I sat only with Captain Travert and Father Daniel in the dining room. They primarily talked of ships and the ridiculous tariffs imposed upon them. Father Daniel’s eyes had begun to close slightly, though he still made comments of agreement here and there. The dark circles on his face made it look even bonier than before. Either due to the wine or a lack of interest, I had gotten quiet.

The ladies did not join us for dinner. In fact, they hadn’t emerged from their cabin all evening. I would have retired myself if not for the hope of chatting with the Lady Ella. After all, they could not stay without food forever. My suspicions were confirmed when both women came to the room just as I was beginning to lose hope. They appeared a bit tired, as we all were, but my energy was promptly renewed at their arrival.

“Ah, ladies!” the Captain exclaimed and we all rose from our seats. “I’m so pleased you could join us. May I bring you a glass of wine and perhaps something to eat?”

“Wine would be lovely,” said Lady Pearson, “but our luggage contained provisions so we shan’t require any food this evening.” They took a seat at the table. I was most pleased that Lady Ella took a seat beside me.

Travert walked, rather wearily, to the wall kitchenette and filled two glasses. I wanted to ask Ella what had brought her to Alexandria, though protocol deemed it too forward. I decided instead to strike up a conversation with the Captain in the hopes that she joined in.

“Captain, I noticed that it’s just you and
Rémy
working the ship. Are these vessels always staffed as such? I feel it must be a burden during long voyages.”

Travert placed the glasses in front of our newcomers and retook his seat.

“No, Mr. Laurence, we’re definitely an oddity right now. The ship used to staff a lot more. It gained a bit of popularity when it started taking on passengers. That’s when the fancy wood trimmings and details were added on. But that was another life, before I got a hold of it, and before it was called the
Bigorneau
.” He talked slowly and proudly, as if describing the accomplishments of a child. “We had another young lad helping us out, but he was an erratic youth from the start. We made port in Barcelona about two weeks ago and he left for the city and never returned. Cleared his room out and all. I’ve put a notice out in Marseilles and I’m hoping to find a replacement upon our arrival.”

“Good help really is so difficult to come by,” Lady Pearson observed and pursed her lips. She delicately picked up her glass and sipped her wine.

“Well I wish you all the best in your search,” Ella added, her first words since boarding the ship. Her voice was delicate and musical and it intensified the attraction I felt.

“Are you ladies returning from holiday?” I finally summed up the courage to probe.

“Family matters,” the elder Lady Pearson responded flatly. Ella bowed her head down and stared into her wine glass. I wondered what had happened in Egypt to cause such a strain, for the younger woman had been as quiet as a mouse. I suddenly realized that tears and not want of sleep may have been the source of her fatigued appearance. I inquired no further. Thankfully, the small talk around the table picked up again, though Lady Ella said no more.

I sat back in my chair and stared out at the vista. My vantage point at the table provided me with a charming view to the aft of the ship. The dining room windows extended the length of the wall and I had been watching the stars and their reflections throughout the night. Except this time I could not see them. I rubbed my eyes to be sure, but the light was gone.

“Captain,” came
Rémy
’s voice from the bridge, “you better come up here.”

Captain Travert put his glass down and stepped out. I excused myself and followed out of curiosity. The waters seemed peculiarly still outside, but it was not at all pacifying. The sense of calm created the opposite affect within me. I disguised my prying as a desire to assist and followed the Captain up the stairs.
Rémy
was standing attentively at the wheel when we got to the bridge.

“Yes, what is it?” Travert asked, but
Rémy
simply pointed at the compass beside him. It stood nearly four feet tall and looked like a miniature table. An elegant brass piece, it was intricately detailed. The legs, shaped to resemble those of a lion, were bolted to the floor. I knew Travert picked it up somewhere on his travels, for it belonged aboard a luxury vessel a dozen times larger than our little
Bigorneau
. It was only then that I noticed the dial below the glass window at the top. It did not point north, but spun slowly counterclockwise only to stop and spin back again.

“It’s been doing that for several minutes,”
Rémy
informed us.

Travert frowned and removed his own compass. It resembled a pocket watch. He opened the lid and I glimpsed the needle spinning directionless just like its larger companion.

“Mark our position,” he instructed and stepped back out into the warm Mediterranean breeze.
Rémy
looked at me and gave a reassuring nod.

“Storm approaching!” came Travert’s voice several seconds later. I left the bridge and looked up at the darkness overhead. The stars were indeed blackened out as I thought.
Rémy
stepped out behind me and examined the horizon to the aft. The company below heard the Captain’s call and likewise made their way on deck to observe.

The odd calm which I noticed earlier disappeared instantly. A heavy wind hit our ship like a physical mass and the vessel began to sway powerfully in the rising waves.

“You all had better get inside!” Travert announced and returned to the bridge.

“Can I help?” I asked over the increasing wind.

“We’ve got it covered up here,” the Captain stated. “Not much room anyway. Go on below, Mr. Laurence, but thank you for the offer.”

“Just let me know if you change your mind,” I answered and went below. The others had instinctively collected back in the dining room rather than proceed to their own cabins. Strength in numbers, I suppose. Or, in this case, reassurance in numbers.

I closed the door behind me and we retook our seats around the table. The lurching of the ship had gotten more intense and I hoped the repetitive motion wouldn’t upset my stomach. I knew my pride would take a beating if I were to excuse myself due to sickness. As if in response to my thoughts, it felt like the ship jumped up thirty feet and came back down again. A handful of books fell off of the shelf on one of the walls and I could hear muffled shouting from the bridge above us. Another lurch. This time, all four of us grabbed the table and held fast. Father Daniel crossed himself and closed his eyes. More shouting from above as rain began hammering the little vessel.

Ella tightly gripped the tabletop and her hand briefly caressed against my own. I looked up at her and she met my gaze. I tried to smile reassuringly but another heave interrupted our thoughts and we shut our eyes. I could feel my heart pounding.

“Good heavens!” Lady Pearson cried. “At least the table is bolted down.” I had to admire her positivity. I was grateful for the brief intervals between the rolls of the ship.

I don’t know how long we were in that little room. It could have been ten minutes; it could have been an hour. The wine impacted my sense of time. The bottle lay shattered in a small crimson pool on the floor. We remained silent until the lurching finally decreased and
Rémy
entered.

“The waves died down, but it will go on for a while longer. Captain says you should make your way to bed. No sense in staying cramped in here.” His English was much more accented than that of his uncle.

“As if I could sleep through this,” Lady Pearson responded amusingly.

I nodded in agreement though we followed
Rémy
out onto the deck regardless. I hopelessly entertained the idea that the lurching may feel more like lulling once I stretched out on a mattress. Father Daniel appeared worst out of our group. Little red rivers ran through his eyes, which had now sunken deep into their sockets. He held onto the walls tightly as we made our way outside. Salt spray hit our faces though the rain seemed to have passed. I could barely make out the waves in the darkness. They appeared black and cold, like a thick murky pool tirelessly attempting to swallow our little vessel.

“Hold tight,”
Rémy
instructed. The railing was slippery.

He was about to open the ladies’ cabin door when the waves of the sea died out as swiftly as they had come. The sudden lack of motion after a prolonged exposure to the high waves was extremely uncomfortable. My body continued to sway against my will as if the movement hadn’t ceased. Even the wind disappeared, though the darkness remained impenetrable in all directions.
Rémy
stopped and stared out into the obscurity. I saw Captain Travert step out onto the upper deck. I could tell from their confusion that this stillness was as unexpected to them as it was to me.

And then it happened. The details are clouded in my mind but I remember the first burst of lighting well. It ripped horizontally across the sky above us. A thick vein of red and gold, which then split into countless smaller tributaries. It lasted a second at most, but the image of a burning tree or system of rivers became engrained in my mind like the flash from a photographer’s bulb. Then the thunder came. It was not deep or rumbling. Rather, it was like the crackling of a fire. So loud that the ship vibrated in reaction. Another burst of lighting; another burning trunk splitting the sky, growing ever wider into a system of branches. The thunder hit again, like the cracking of a whip. It felt close and consuming.

I didn’t have time to think before the sky erupted in lighting. The golden bursts came a dozen at a time and suddenly night turned into day. My hands instinctively flew to my ears as endless cracks of thunder turned into a roar. I looked down to avoid the intense brightness, for it was like staring directly into the sun. It was only then that I noticed the wood and metal of the ship glowing. It sparked slightly, as if it was catching flame. The tremor in the floor beneath me increased until I was certain the ship would fall apart. And then everything went dark.