Authors: L J Leyland
Carved onto the prow of their boat was a demonic-looking creature. It bobbed and swayed in the current as though it was possessed. The boat was long and thin, hewn from one massive log. The vessel was decoratively carved with scenes from Highland folklore – wolves, deer, hunters and arrows. Rounded shields protected each rower from view and also from waves determined to drench both clothes and spirits. It was a fearsome boat, made all the more frightening when twenty-four Highland warriors began to row in time to an ominous drum beat, pounded out by Mhareen, dressed exquisitely in amber fox furs, her antlers crowning her head.
Fergus made Noah, Grimmy, and me sit on the prow whilst Matthias had been ordered to lie on a bed of fur blankets brought especially for him. The blood loss had left him feeling physically weak but did nothing to affect his acid tongue. One of the first things he did when he awoke from his concussion was to roundly and happily denounce Grimmy to the heavens. I laughed to see it; as weak as a kitten but with the roar of a lion.
Fergus was navigating. I had to duck whenever he turned his head to avoid getting clipped by his enormous antler crown. I offered my binoculars to him but he laughed. ‘Lass, I’ve been traipsing across this stretch of godforsaken sea for over thirty years now. If I can’t find my way by sight then I deserve to drown.’
So I took to using them myself. In the not too far distance, I could see other mountains, huge and craggy. There was a chain of them like the points on a crown. ‘Which one are we going to? Which one do you think Iris is on?’ I shouted to Fergus above the beat of the drums and the crash of the waves.
‘Ben Hevan,’ he replied, ‘home of the Eagle Clan.’
He pointed towards a far off north-westerly giant which was so vertical and steep that I wondered how anyone could actually live there.
‘Fergus … why are your clans named after animals? I thought Highland clans had family names?’
‘Aye, we used to, before the Flood. But the Flood caught everyone unawares. No time for the clans to gather with their kin. MacDonalds stranded with Munros, McKinnons with McClarens. It woulda been useless to try to keep the clan system going. Not to mention deadly, clan factions fighting for power on the islands that were left. That’s no way to live. In times like that, you have to stick together or else you all perish. So new clans were formed. Based on habitat and creatures. Each clan has formed a bond with their surroundings and their animal neighbours. It works well. At least for us – we got the deer, most highly respected of animals. Pity the poor clan that got the Highland shrew!’ He laughed heartily and slapped his leg.
I smiled uncertainly. He was quite a frightening man but not in the same way that the Mayor was frightening. I was frightened of him because I wanted so desperately to impress him; I wanted him to think me worthy of his attention. I didn’t want to let him down. But at the same time, I wasn’t sure what would please him. His laughed descended into a hacking cough and he pulled out a pipe and stuffed it with dried leaves that smelled like liquorice.
‘What was wrong with those deer yesterday? I’ve never seen animals act like that. Is it something to do with your … your special relationship with them?’ I asked. I was hesitant because I realised how ridiculous ‘special relationship’ sounded. But, I’d racked my brains all night and could come up with no other explanation for it.
His old eyes fixed on me. He took one last deep drag on the pipe and removed it from his mouth. Smoke seeped from him like he was smouldering. ‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘It’s nothing to do with us, it was The Flood. The deer on this island are very agitated. They can’t roam very far and they are hungry. The problem of being stuck on a small island with very little to eat. I guess desperation makes us all crazy, even animals.’ He took my binoculars and looked at the lenses. ‘How far can these see?’ he asked.
‘I’m not sure. Pretty far I guess.’
He took a wooden compass from his pocket and located directly north. ‘Look that way and let me know what you see.’
At first, the bright winter sunshine blinded me and all I saw was a white halo of light. But as my eyes adjusted, faint images were suddenly etched onto the horizon. A dark cloud hovered above the sea surface, quivering and changing shape regularly. I squinted but still could not make out what it was. ‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘Seagulls,’ replied Fergus but his voice was grim.
Oh. My heart fell. I was expecting something exciting and dangerous, possibly something to do with the Flood and the Arctic, considering that we were so high north.
‘What, seagulls don’t interest you, girl?’ He registered the look of disappointment on my face.
I shrugged. No, they most definitely did not – but I didn’t want him to think that I was being difficult. ‘We call them pirates in Brigadus. Because they steal. I built a scarecrow to stop them from taking the drying fish from my roof but they stole the damn thing as well. Just flapped off with an entire straw man dangling from their claws. Wanted the stuffing. It was quite funny to hear the townsfolk in the docks the next day, talking about how the seagulls were beginning an uprising and kidnapping children. Never seen them so panicked. But no, apart from that brief interlude of amusement, they don’t interest me. What’s so special about seagulls at sea?’
‘Look again. Have you ever seen a flock as big as that?’
I raised the binoculars to my eyes and pulled back the focus. I realised that I had only been looking at a tiny portion of the flock the first time that I observed them, but now, I could see that there was hundreds of thousands of them.
Millions
, possibly. The flock was about a kilometre wide and goodness knows how deep. It was like a tornado, swooping, diving, and circling. ‘What the –?’ I breathed. It was a plague of squawking, beady eyed pirates. ‘What are they gathered for?’
Fergus scratched his beard. ‘We’re not sure but we guess feeding. A lot of dead things float down from the North now. Whole shoals of dead fish, sharks, jellyfish, whales. They eat anything.’
A whale had once beached itself on Brigadus shores. It was such an exciting day. The townsfolk children even got out of school for the occasion. We all piled down to the shore to watch the monster slip away into unconsciousness and then death. The children danced around it and climbed on it like dwarves triumphing over a giant, shaking their hard little fists in victory as though they had personally slain it. It was albino; white with humorous, intelligent black eyes and a rounded head. One of the more adventurous fishermen had said that he had heard that these albino whales were called belugas and that they lived in the Arctic. That’s why they were white, to blend in with the snow. Only there was no snow now.
I didn’t even stop to think that this creature may have been the last of its kind. It had lost its home and its entire purpose for living. Perhaps that’s why it died, out of loneliness and heartbreak. I still relished eating its soft, blubbery flesh, though, and I would probably do it again given the chance. The Flood has turned us all into pirates and scavenger seagulls.
‘These things, whales, fish, are all dead because of the Flood? Because there’s no cold water left? No ice?’
‘Possibly,’ Fergus said, but his tone was non-committal.
‘You don’t believe it’s just that, though, do you?’
‘No, lass, I don’t. We have trade links with the very northernmost islands, the Shetlands, Faroes, Iceland, Scandinavian islands. All illegal of course but the reach of the Metropole doesn’t always extend to the frozen wastelands of the high north. The pampered puppies don’t like the cold that much. The traders tell us that at night, they can hear sounds. Some nights, we can hear them too if the wind is very still – a rare occurrence in this wild region but sometimes the wind drops and we can hear far-off noises from the North. The traders think the noises are getting more frequent. They think they are getting louder, too.’
My voice fell to a whisper and my heart beat in time to the solemn drum Mhareen struck. ‘What sort of noises?’
‘Explosions, rumbling, crunching. I don’t know. There are earth tremors, too. The traders feel them often. We felt one about a month ago. Everything lurched to the right.’
‘Fergus, about the Flood. We think it was man-made, we think the Metropole melted the ice to get to the oil and gas underneath, we think that the Mayors of Britannia were in on it –’ The words tumbled from me in one great gush but I was too excited to explain properly.
‘Whoa, whoa, whoa, lass, I know, I know. Remember, us Highlanders have known about this since our neighbours found your Iris floating around the sea in a wooden rowing boat years ago. We know it was done on purpose, she told the Eagles everything she saw between your Mayor and those bastards of the Metropole. That’s what the noises and tremors are, we think. Machines hacking away at the earth to get to the oil and gas. God knows what sort of devastation they are wreaking up there but let me tell you this; none of the creatures can stand it. They all float down here, dead as dormice.’
He resumed his pipe smoking and his expression became philosophical. ‘Never in my life would I have believed that people could condemn their fellow humans to a life of such suffering for a few years of comfort. But human beings are constantly surprising. You can’t trust them. Now, a wolf you can trust. You can trust that he is going to try to kill you and eat you. But a human? You can never plumb the depths of a human’s mind. Therefore, people cannot be trusted.’ Disgust had filled his eyes.
‘You can trust some people,’ I replied meekly, thinking of Noah and Matthias.
He laughed. ‘A folly of the young.’
I turned my back on him sulkily.
‘Ah, lass, I’m not having a go at you. Just preparing you for your future.’
‘I don’t want a future where I can’t trust anyone.’
‘Then I guess you’re gonna have to change the world and all the humans in it.’
‘I guess I will,’ I replied.
His hooded eyes danced with amusement but also a sort of surprise. ‘Well, good luck with that.’
I tried to adopt a look of haughtiness but my desire for knowledge overcame my desire to sulk; I turned to face him once more. ‘Why would there still be noises if they finished their melt over thirty years ago? Wouldn’t all the oil and gas be out by now?’
‘I guess they are still drilling and excavating … must be difficult to reach …’ He trailed off, looking shifty.
‘What? You know something, don’t you?’
‘Not really. Just rumours. Rumours that came from your Iris and speculation from the traders.’
‘I don’t like guessing games so just tell me what rumours you’ve heard.’
‘Ah listen, I don’t rightly know. That Iris … she’s not all there. Half the time no-one can make head nor tail of what she says, plus we’re not on the best of speaking terms with the Eagle Clan … They don’t let us know everything that they’ve learnt. Inter-clan politics.’ He spat out a leaf that had somehow found its way from his pipe to his mouth. ‘Just wait ‘til we get to Ben Hevan and you can ask Iris yourself why she thinks the noises are getting more frequent and louder. Ask her about the earth tremors, too.’
He turned his back to me and I had to dive to the deck to prevent his antlers from swiping my head off. I took that to mean that I was dismissed.
Ben Hevan’s shadow grasped us whilst we were still about a mile away. Soaring above us, it rose majestically out of the water and dwarfed everything in sight. The air turned cooler as we sailed into its shadow and drizzle fell as soft puffs of sleet. Upon seeing it, I understood why it was the home of the Eagle Clan. The land was so vertical that I doubted that anything other than birds could make its home there. Huge eagles circled the mountain, coasting through the air effortlessly on their enormous wings. Wooden houses clung to the mountainsides like nest boxes designed for birds.
Noah wrapped a fur coat around me, one kindly donated by Mhareen. The fur was smoky and unbelievably soft. The dusky grey colour reflected the colours in the sky. ‘You don’t suffer from vertigo, do you?’ he asked with a smile.
‘I’ve never seen anything as big before,’ I replied.
Fergus had lent Noah a coat made from the soft ochre skin of stags. It was short-haired, supple, and warm as I stroked it. It reminded me of the way that Wolf’s skin felt after he had lain by the fire all afternoon. A sudden pang of anguish deadened me as I longed for Edie, Aiden, and Wolf. On cold afternoons like this, we would gather by the stove and make tea from the herbs that Edie collected to stem our hunger, hoping the liquid would be a satisfactory replacement for food. It never was.
When winter came, food became scarcer and we would have to break into our stores of dried and preserved food, prepared during the spring and summer. It was a special day, breaking into the first batch of dried fish or preserved plums. Despite the fact that it signalled the beginning of the lean months, we celebrated it. We celebrated the fact that we had been as clever as to prepare for the cold and misery. We felt proud of our ingenuity and hard work. We would not starve … well, we would not die from hunger, at least. On the first day, we would make garlands from mistletoe and holly to decorate the boat. As a yearly treat, we would exchange some of our dried fish for sheep’s cream at the docks and make a thick, delicious drink of hot cream, spices, and honey. It was our special winter warmer to celebrate our survival for another year. I wondered what Matthias’s grandmother was feeding them and whether they had shown her how to make the drink. What on earth was I doing so far away from them? How could I leave them to fend for themselves whilst I gallivanted off on an adventure?
I felt an arm around me and turned my head, expecting to see Noah. Instead, Matthias was leaning heavily on my shoulders, using me as a staff to take the weight off his injuries. ‘Do you think it’s snowing in Brigadus?’ he asked.
‘Probably. You know how the weather suddenly turns without any warning. Do you … do you think they’re safe?’
‘Yes,’ he replied, stoutly.
I raised my eyebrow at him.
‘Yes,’ he said again, but he gave my shoulders a reassuring squeeze.
Fergus had also lent him a coat. It was thick and deep; it made him look five-foot wide. Apprehension crept up on me.
‘What if the Mayor has realised Noah has disappeared? What if he thinks that I’m with him, after he saw Noah help me escape from the Complex? And, what if they realise you’re gone from the factory and think you’re with us, too? If the Mayor has sent Parrots looking for your grandma and sees Edie and Aiden … Matt, what if they have taken Edie and Aiden?’
Matthias made shushing noises and squeezed my shoulder until they hurt but he didn’t offer any words of comfort.
‘Maida?’ said Noah; his eyes were as calm as a summer lake. ‘You’re being irrational. My parents told the Parrots that I’d contracted marsh fever so they think I’m at home, at death’s door. The Mayor has no idea where you live. No-one knows about the boat so you’re not on any of the Parrot’s records, remember? Essentially, you, Edie, and Aiden don’t exist.’
‘And my grandmother has told the factory that I’ve caught a blood infection from an untreated cut and have to stay home for a while,’ added Matthias.
‘No-one knows about our plan, honest. They won’t come looking for Edie and Aiden, ‘said Noah.
Matthias relaxed his grip from my shoulders and said, ‘I think you’re giving the Parrots far too much credit – they’re too dumb to figure out that Noah’s disappearance is linked to us somehow. It’ll be fine. Let’s not worry about it.’
But his brow still had worry lines etched into it and I knew he was feeling the flicker of fear that I felt. The closer it got to the finale, the more apprehensive I was feeling. Matthias was wrong about the Parrots being dumb. Sure, the minor, low-level ones were morons who even children could outwit (as we had proved since I was twelve). But there were cold-eyed, steel-hearted men who surrounded the Mayor. They were experienced, ruthless, and certainly not dumb. After all, hadn’t they helped to engineer the deception of an entire nation of people? Hadn’t they managed to subdue us with carefully crafted lies about the Flood? Didn’t they maintain control in the most subtle of ways, by removing our hope and killing our spirits, making us utterly dependent on them? No, I for one would not underestimate them. My fear stayed firmly lodged in my chest.
The Highland rowers began to make their strokes shorter and less frequent, letting the boat coast towards the island. The coloured flags dotted the landscape here too but, more intriguingly, a strange high structure had been built around the entire island. From far away, I had just thought it was a giant cliff but now I could see that it was manmade. It was like a giant fence had been built around the island. Boulders, wood, and sand were piled high, forming a ten-metre barrier, separating the island from the outside world.
‘Mhareen, what is that for?’ I asked, pointing towards it.
‘We’re not entirely sure, love. They’re an awful secretive lot, the Eagles. Fergus thinks its protection from another Flood, or so he hears from rumours and the like. But maybe it’s just to stop the Metropole from getting landmines close to the shore.’
‘
Another Flood?
What?’
But Mhareen shushed me. ‘Quiet, lass. Now’s not the time. Talk to Iris and Fergus when we land.’ She straightened her antlers and mussed her hair, presumably to make herself look as big and wild as possible.
A loan figure waited on a rock platform. He gave a signal to a person hidden from view and a crack opened up in the barriers. An enormous wooden gate creaked open and we sailed through the gap, into a small, calm lagoon between the barriers and the shore. We had made it to Ben Hevan.