CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

The ship surged on, its brig high above the brown water. For a moment Trinket gained on the ship. Her body seemed to float above the water, and her swimming strokes were powerful and crazy fast. But the ship was accelerating as whatever beasts that rowed the ship thrust the pole sized oars into the water, harder and faster. Trinket began to slow and the ship began to draw away. She gave up the chase. She turned and swam to the shore and came up with water running down her green skin and from her tunic. She shook in a way that sent a shiver down her body, and water droplets flew off in an emerald shower.

The ship continued, the giant oars pulling relentlessly, until it disappeared amongst the river trees on a wide bend.

Standing in the grass and thistle, Jane’s mouth was turned down, and her forehead was creased with a single line, and her eyes were filled with displeasure and resignation that all was failing. She crossed her arms.

Trinket strode across the meadow with an energy that indicated that she had already moved on from the setback of not catching the ship. She vibrated with anticipation of some new idea.

She marched up to Jane.

‘Let’s go.’

‘I thought the ship always stopped.’ Jane’s sounded sarcastic and weary. ‘I thought it was in the constitution of Paris or some such thing.’

Trinket put her hands in the air and let them drop, as if to say, no big deal.

‘We can still get the ship, but we will have to hurry.’

‘How?’

‘The ship now travels south for many miles where it goes through a large bend to come north again. I know a place we can get hold of more horses. We can ride the horses across the cornfields to intercept the ship at a place called Grime’s crossing.’

Just then an almighty rumble came from the south. Dark clouds were boiled up high into the air. A craze of lightning ran through them.

‘We will have to go now.’

‘Which poor fool are we going to steal horses from now?’

‘His name is Gibor. He is only young. His father was murdered.’

Despite her weariness, Jane was interested.

‘Why was his father murdered?’

‘The Emperor murdered the heads of all the major houses after they refused to cede to his authority.’

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Jane tried to think of something to say that didn’t sound stupid but when she opened her mouth the stupidest thing came out.

‘I killed my own father with a hammer.’

Luckily Trinket had already turned away and was putting her hand above her eyes to shield the angle of sunlight that poured down from the top of a nearby hill.

‘Come.’

Trinket took off, thrusting the long grass and yellow flowers aside with her hands, until she came to a single hoof-wide animal track that ran up the hill. Jane hobbled behind.

Because she had rested, Jane’s ankle and her hip and even her shoulder had all stiffened up, and now the pain of muscles trying to unstiffen ran right up to the threshold of tolerance. She stumbled on a grass clump, and swore quietly.

Trinket looked back and saw that Jane was in pain.

‘I am running out of energy,’ said Jane.

‘You need to eat,’ said Trinket.

Jane stopped walking and put her hands on her hips.

Trinket watched Jane for a moment then she said, ‘ You can have one sip of yellow syrup.’

‘I will need more than one sip of yelp our cordial.’

‘Here.’

Trinket thrust out the uncapped flask for Jane to take. A curl of vapour circled up from the open mouth.

‘This is better than any food … but only one sip.’

‘What happens if I have more than one sip? Will it kill me?’

Trinket looked deathly serious, and she nodded once and said, ‘If you have too much yellow syrup, it will kill you.’

If she hadn’t been so energy depleted Jane would not have drunk the syrup. Too much would kill … what kind of voodoo poison.

‘Just one sip now.’

Jane tilted her head back and tipped the flask up. The syrup was sweet, like Turkish delight, and creamy like eggnog. And it burnt, but not in a painful way. The syrup heated the whole way across the tongue, and the whole way down the throat.

‘Stop,’ Trinket said, and she put her hand into Jane’s face, and grabbed the flask.

Jane could have kept drinking. It was like eating fairy floss. You think, just one more bite. Then. Just one more bite. Next minute there is fairy floss in your eyebrows and fairy floss between your fingers, and your head is spinning like an egg beater because of all the sugar.

Jane burped quietly, and said, ‘My goodness.’

Trinket recapped the flask and slipped it inside her coat.

‘What is it doing?’

‘It is like fire. It is pure heat.’

Trinket smiled. Her teeth were pure white behind her green marble lips.

‘Oh, my,’ Jane put a hand to her face. ‘I must be red as a beetroot. I feel like I am flushed.’

‘Come,’ said Trinket. ‘Let’s hope that Gibor is still on our side.’

‘Is it possible he won’t be?’

‘We will see.’

They continued to walk. Jane felt the yellow syrup spreading heat through her legs. She felt warmth going into her hip.

The wind had risen in strength and there was a cold note that had been missing earlier. To the south the sky was one huge bruise of storm clouds.

The animal path zig zagged up the side of the hill, and Jane bounded behind Trinket. The yellow syrup coursed through her body, a nuclear explosion of energy in her muscles. The sunlight made ribbons of light and dark across the thistle and black rock, and clumps of yellow flowers.

Trinket reached the top of the hill, and stopped. She made a funny meowing sound, then said, ‘So we have a little problem.’