The waves rose and fell; mountains became ravines in an endless cycle, lifting and dropping him as they rolled past. His head felt like a cork wobbling jauntily with each thrash of his legs to keep his mouth and nose above water. His teeth chattered in a frenzied staccato and his wide eyes flicked back and forth like he was watching caffeine junkies playing table tennis.
The spray lashed his face each time he was at the top of a wave, filling his eyes with water and blurring his vision so he couldn't see more than a bus-length away. His limbs were slowing as the cold seeped into him and his thoughts turned to slush.
Water sloshed into his mouth and he coughed it out. Which way had the ship gone? Perhaps he could catch up with it if he tried hard enough. Or maybe he could swim to land. But how far away was it? And in which direction?
Oh shit. It's no use. If it hadn't been for Voormama, I'd be on the boat with Nev right now. Maybe I should just let go. Let the sea take me.
His frustration boiled over. "Fuck you, Voormama!"
"Drome? Is that you?"
Am I hearing voices?
He shook the water from his ears.
"Hello?" he called. He twisted this way and that, searching every inch of the surrounding murk.
A wave lifted him and... There!
The jolly boat!
"Nev!"
"Drome!"
This time there was no mistaking the skeleton's voice.
"Nev!" he shouted again. "I'm over here!"
The water foamed around him as he paddled towards the boat. He screamed and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest when something bumped his legs.
A shadow glided away, turned, and there in the wave next to him was a blurred cigar shape, twice as long as he was tall. The tip of a fin, curved like a shark's but bristling with spikes, broke the surface as the wave rolled on.
His fatigue vanished. He whisked his arms back and forth, turning the water to froth, hoping to scare the creature off. "Nev! Over here! Help!"
The boat appeared through the haze. Nev's back was towards him, his neck twisted to look over his shoulder as he heaved on a pair of oars. He spotted Drome, pulled harder on the oar on one side and turned the boat towards Drome.
"I'm coming," shouted Nev.
Drome's entire body lurched as something brushed against his hip.
"Hurry up!" he shrieked.
Water swirled alongside him and the top of a sleek, black spiky fishtail showed briefly before slipping back underwater.
Drome churned the water with his frantic paddling, heading for the boat while jerking his head around, looking for fins.
Shit! This can't be happening!
With his imagination in overdrive, every lap of water against his face was a precursor of an attack. His stomach was in knots but he kept going and at last his hand whacked into the boat.
He lunged upwards and grabbed at the gunwale, but his timing was off and his hand just slapped the hull. Water poured into his mouth as he sank underwater.
Surrounded by bubbles, he gave a series of frenzied kicks and surfaced. A fin jutting out of the water was heading towards him as straight as an arrow.
With a desperate screech, he surged as high as he could from the water, and got his fingers around the gunwale. He hauled with all his strength, every ounce of energy going into pulling himself up and away from an imminent gut spilling by the fish hurtling towards him. But his strength evaporated and his fingers slipped closer and closer to the gunwales edge.
The fin was getting close. Very close. His legs dangled like bait-worms, as though begging to be shredded and devoured by the creature racing straight at him.
Sobbing with horror, his tears blended with the spray, and it took long seconds to sink in that Nev was above him, pulling on his numb arms.
He cast a glance behind him. A gaping mouth filled with large, sharp teeth broke the surface and rushed in his direction. He screamed and scrabbled his feet against the boat's hull.
Nev saw the fish too and leaned further out to get a better grip on Drome's arms. As he tipped his head forward, the gold chain slid out through his eye socket and plopped into the water. Glinting and sparkling, the jewel encrusted chain sank, only to vanish as the mouth that had been about to take a chunk out of Drome suddenly angled down and swallowed it.
With a mighty heave, Nev dragged Drome aboard the boat. The lycra-clad ex-cyclist coughed and spluttered on his hands and knees, barely believing he was safe. Nev sprang back to the boat's side.
"Bring it back, you bastard!" he yelled.
Drome finished coughing and looked up. "Thanks. I didn't think I was going to make it."
Nev flicked a glance at him. "Where did that damn fish go? It's got my loot! We have to get it back."
Shaking with cold and shock, Drome couldn't get his thoughts in order. "What?"
"We have to find a way to attract it... lure it closer. Then I could hit it on the head with an oar and stun it."
Still half dazed, Drome moved over next to Nev and leaned out to look down into the water. All he could see was the reflection of his yellow helmet on the surface of the water. "It's probably miles away by now."
The surface erupted and a huge fanged mouth surged out of the sea and closed around Drome's helmet. He screamed and held on with all his strength as the fish jerked its head from side to side to dislodge him.
"You did it! Well done! Stay like that!" Nev sprang over and wrenched an oar from the rowlock. He swung it at the fish, missed, and hit Drome across the shoulders. Drome's arms crumpled, and he screamed as his torso slid over the edge in response to the wrenching on his bike helmet.
Nev swung the oar again, and this time smacked the fish on the top of its head.
A spasm shot along its length. Its jaws opened and released Drome. As he squirmed back to safety, the fish rolled belly up and sank. Nev gasped and tried to snag it with the oar, but failed and the creature drifted down out of sight.
Drome dragged himself back into a safer position right in the centre of the boat.
"It's gone!" shouted Nev. "Why didn't you grab it after I stunned it?"
"You're mad! You hit me with the oar! The last thing I could think of was grabbing your fucking fish!"
"Mind your language! It's become shocking since you started associating with those damned pirates. Oh! Now you've started me cursing too." He straightened up, glared at Drome, and then slumped onto one of the wooden boards that served as a seat. "It doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore. I've lost the gold. I won't be able to pay to get my body back. I'm going to be a skeleton forever. A freak."
"I'm s-sorry," said Drome. The chill was creeping into his bones. "It's m-my f-fault. If you hadn't helped me, you'd p-probably have g-got away much easier. P-probably wouldn't have been c-caught by p-pirates."
"You haven't exactly been lucky for me," said Nev. He hung his head and stared at his feet. "Oh, who am I fooling? The palace guards would almost certainly have caught me if I hadn't had you to help me find a ship."
Drome coughed and hugged himself. His teeth chattered, and he shivered like a washing machine on fast spin.
Nev raised his head. "You need to get out of your wet clothes. We left in a bit of a hurry. There wasn't time to pack blankets or anything. And you clearly haven't brought any food."
Drome's lips were turning blue. "W-what d-do you m-mean we l-left in a h-hurry? You m-mean you l-left in a h-hurry."
"I'll explain while we get undressed. You can put on my clothes while yours dry." Nev stood up, turned around and began to take off his clothes.
"Face the other way," said Nev. "I know you're watching me."
"D-does it m-matter?" said Drome. He swivelled around on his seat anyway and spent a few moments trying to get his wet shirt over his helmet before deciding it wasn't worth the effort. He undid the chin strap and removed his precious head protector. His hair flapped about in the wind as he exposed his scalp, and he clamped his helmet between his knees to prevent it being blown overboard. The thought of losing it was unbearable.
With numb fingers he took off his shirt and rubbed his hands up and down his sides to warm himself.
"Here," said Nev.
Drome twisted around.
"I told you not to look!" said the skeleton. He tossed his shirt at Drome. The wind grabbed it and flapped it across Drome's face, cutting off a glimpse of Nev's bare rib cage.
With Nev's dry shirt on, a flicker of warmth crept into his bones and his fingers weren't quite as numb as he took off his shoes and trousers.
As he pulled off his trousers he noticed his helmet, which he'd put by his feet. In addition to the sticking up flap and the scrapes and dings, a row of freshly gouged teeth marks marred the perimeter. The poor thing was in a sorry state. He picked it up, pressed it to his lips, then put it back on his head and gave it a pat.
"Well?" said Nev. "I'm waiting."
"What for?"
"Give me your shirt. I'm not going to let you see me naked."
"Eh? It's not as though you..." Drome trailed off as his mind whirred. Something was odd about Nev's behaviour. In fact, if he didn't know better, he'd think...
"You're a girl," he said. His mouth dropped open.
"I'm a woman, not a girl. What of it? It doesn't change anything."
Drome continued to gape. "No... Of course not..." Of course it did. It completely changed the way he thought about Nev. "You... You lied to me."
"No, I didn't. I never said I was a man."
"Yes, you did! You told me your name was Nev. It's a boy's name."
"No, I told you my name was Neve. You didn't listen properly. Please face the other way. You don't have any trousers on and I'm not wearing a top."
Drome was suddenly aware of his naked nether regions. He covered his crotch with his hands as he turned so back was toward Neve.
"Here," said Neve. Drome stretched his arm hand behind him without looking.
Neve passed him her trousers. "Don't you dare turn around."
"I won't," said Drome. He put on her dry trousers. They were too tight, but kept the wind off his legs.
There was a rustling of wet clothing, then Neve said, "You can turn around now."
She had put on Drome's riding gear. The colourful wet Lycra clung to her bones and for the first time Drome wondered what she'd looked like before her flesh had been spirited away.
Nev's a woman! How did I not notice before?
He looked guiltily away. The view past the sides of their little boat was still cut off by the heaving sea.
"What do we do now?" he said.
"We may as well get this tub moving. Damned if I'm going to row though."
"What do you mean?"
"The boat has a mast and there's a sail rolled up under the stern seat."
Drome was grateful to have something to occupy him other than pondering Nev's - Neve's - sudden gender swap. Between them they managed to work out which end of the sail was the top, attach it to the mast, and raise it. Before long, the wind was bending the canvas and leaning the craft to one side.
It was a little too much of an angle as far as Drome's confidence was concerned. He sat down at the rear of the boat, next to Neve, who was holding the tiller.
"So, um," said Drome. "Do you know where we're heading? I mean, you must remember showing me on the map where we were. You know, before the ship sank."
"No." Neve adjusted the tiller, and the boat corkscrewed wildly for a few seconds until she got it back under control. "How do you expect me to know which direction we're going? I can see as much of the what's around us as you can."
Drome was about to say something else when there was a thud against the side of the boat. He leaned over the side. The face of a garflung stared lifelessly up at him.
He yanked his head back. "It's a body." His stomach churned.
"Must be one of the sailors. I expect we'll see a few more. Maybe that's what attracted that thieving fish." Neve sighed. "Oh well, easy come, easy go."
"I don't expect the sailors think that."
"I wasn't thinking of them. I was thinking of my jewellery."
For a while, all that came to Drome's ears was the slapping of waves against the hull and the howling of the wind. Then Neve said, "What happened by the way? How did the ship catch fire?"
"I went looking for the cook like you said. I went down to the bottom of the ship and found a kynbar who'd been locked up. He, ah, sort of found his, um, wand - he's a wizard - and shot fireballs at me."
"Hang on a minute," said Neve. "Why did you go below? The galley was on the deck. Didn't you notice the cook with a wooden leg? Pots and pans on a stove? Lots of smoke? Bit of a giveaway, really."
"That was the cook? I thought he was doing the laundry. I even asked some sailors," said Drome.
"Is everyone from Earth as naïve as you? Did you honestly think you'd get a straight answer from those morons?" Neve shook her head. "I can't believe you were so stupid. And then to go upsetting a kynbar! Everyone knows how touchy they are... but you didn't even upset an ordinary one. You upset a wizard! What did you say to make him shoot at you?"
"Um... nothing. Well... I'd sort of met him before..."
"You'd met him before? How could that have happened? Did he come from Earth with you?"
"No. When I was flying from Amblesby something went wrong and I crash landed on a giant vegetable - a skishba I think it's called - that belonged to a kynbar and he thought I was a devil so I had to fight a duel but that ended when I was yanked back into the air again, so Voormama started shooting at me and-"
"Voormama?"
Drome huffed. "That's the wizard's name. He's called Voormama. Look, if you keep interrupting, I'm never going to get to the end of the story."
"If you told it properly, I wouldn't have to."
"I'm doing my best. Anyway, Voormama was banished from his tribe because I'd escaped. He set out to hunt me down and by sheer bad luck he was captured by the pirates. Apparently Sak thought he could use him as a weapon. I suppose he wanted him to shoot fireballs at other ships or something. He'd have been better off sticking to cannons."
"There probably isn't enough iron in the entire world to make even a single cannon. You must have noticed the Slasher Queen didn't have any?"
"Er, no. I was too busy being chased by a homicidal wizard to do any sightseeing. By the way, I was a little surprised when I got to the back of the ship and you weren't there. I thought you'd abandoned me."
"When I saw the ship was on fire, I thought I'd better take to the water before anyone else came looking to escape in the boat. I thought you'd see me and jump into the sea so I could pick you up. The problem was, I couldn't row fast enough to keep up with the ship. I saw you at the rail and shouted, but you were too far away and didn't hear me. You're lucky you jumped when you did or I might have been too far away to find you."
"I didn't jump. I fell. Sak and Voormama were trying to kill me."
Another thud came from the prow. Another body floated past. Planks, ropes, hats, shoes, canvas, barrels and other debris were scattered across the sea.
"The ship must have broken apart," said Neve.
"I suppose so."
"Something's wrong. I don't like it."
Drome snorted. "You're not kidding! We're stuck in a tiny boat in the middle of the ocean and we have no idea where we're going!"
"Don't be dense. I mean, surely everything aboard the ship would have burned before the fire weakened the ship enough to break apart?"
They sat in silence.
Drome's thoughts drifted to his former life. He wished he was back in his mundane job in Huddon - at least no-one had tried to kill him there - and his boring life in the village with his mother. What was she doing right now? She must be worried sick about him.
The waves seemed to be getting higher. Each time the boat went over the peak of a wave, the bow dropped and the craft fell with a speed that left Drome's stomach behind. The sail flapped like a mosquito's wings, and the planks creaked in alarm.
Above these sounds Drome became aware of a low, distant roar.
"I'm not sure if it's important," said Drome, "but there's a noise I haven't heard before."
"What sort of noise?" said Neve.
"It sounds like... like... surf. You know, the sound the sea makes at the beach."
"What? Keep quiet so I can listen."
They sat in silence, ears straining (in Drome's case at least - he wasn't sure how Neve's ears worked). Through the sounds of the boat and wind came the low, faint roar he had heard earlier.
"It's breakers!" said Neve.
"Breakers? We must be near land!" Drome punched his fist in the air. "That's the best news I've heard all day."
"It wasn't good news for the ship."
"What do you mean?"
"Something happened to it before it reached the beach." Neve slapped her hand against her head. "Of course! Rocks! It broke apart on rocks."
"Rocks? Really?" Drome peered past the front of the boat, narrowing his eyes in an effort to see through the spray. "What are we going to do?"
"I'll steer a path through them," said Neve. "Go to the bow and keep a lookout. Shout if you see anything."
"What sort of things?"
"Oh, for the gods' sake! White water! Rocks poking out of the sea! Are you stupid or just plain daft?"
"There's no need to be like that." Drome's face burned. He'd only asked a straightforward question after all.
Swallowing his pride, he crouched to get past the sail and sat in the bow. There wasn't anything to see in front of the boat and he looked back towards Neve. His cycling gear looked odd on her, but despite that she had the bearing of a queen going into battle.
"Stop staring at me," she said. "You're supposed to be watching out for danger."
"OK. I mean, all right." Drome faced forwards. There wasn't much to see apart from the waves and floating debris. He gritted his teeth and turned his attention forward, trying to pierce the murk with his gaze.
This isn't easy. If only the wind would drop.
With a sickening crunch, the boat lurched. Drome pitched forward, and he grabbed the gunwale to steady himself.
"Rocks!" he shrieked.
Shuddering with the strain, the boat scraped along the rocks until it was lifted by a wave.
"You're supposed to warn me!" yelled Neve.
"I didn't see them in time!" Drome pushed himself back upright.
"Be more careful, you idiot! And don't look at me, look out the front!"
Drome faced forwards again. Spray lashed his face, and when his eyes cleared a chill shot down his spine. "More rocks!"
"Which side?"
"Um... starboard. That's left isn't it?"
"Just call left or right!"
"Left!"
Neve steered to the right, and the boat juddered over a spine of rocky fangs.
Drome's knuckles whitened as he clutched the gunwale. "Sorry!"
"Stop messing around!" yelled Neve.
The sail was flapping madly with the change in direction. In a succession of nauseating lurches, the jolly boat grated over the black rocks until it was raised by a wave. Neve wrestled with the tiller and brought the boat back into line with the wind.
Drome kept his hands on the sides of the boat while he scanned the sea.
It's not my fault. It's the waves that hide the rocks. I can't help it if they only show up in the troughs.
The roaring was getting louder. Much louder. And it had gained a rhythmic quality: the sound of individual breakers.
The boat topped a wave and as it careened down the other side, his mouth opened wide and he screamed, "Watch out! Rocks!"
"Which side?"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaagh!" replied Drome.
With a sickening crunch, their frail craft crashed into the rocks. Sea foam and spray spewed into Drome's wide open mouth. Neve was thrown from her seat but managed to cling to the tiller with one hand.
There was an awful groan of tortured wood, which stopped when the next wave shoved them upwards and onwards. The boat slued sideways and Drome was no longer facing the direction they were travelling. Rolling from side to side, the wind pummelled the wet sail and water slopped over the gunwale. Neve dragged herself back onto her seat and gave the tiller a mighty heave which nearly sent her flying when with a sharp crack like a pistol-shot it came loose in her hand.
"The rudder's gone!" she shouted.
White water surged and heaved. They could barely see through the wind-whipped spray streaming past. Drome yelped as icy water swilled around his ankles, gushing in through gaps in the boat's stressed planking. A wave slapped the side-on hull and Drome's yelps turned to scream as the world tipped and span. A mass of rigging fell on him as the mast snapped and smacked against his helmet. He flailed helplessly among a web of loose ropes and canvas. The boat rolled and for a second his head cleared the tangle and he caught a glimpse of the stern. It was empty. Neve was gone.
The water was around his shins now, but he couldn't free his arms and legs from the snarl of broken rigging. Again the world lurched as another wave hammered the boat and tipped it upside down.
Before Drome had a chance to take a breath, water frothed and swirled around him, and he flailed his arms in panic. Bubbles swirled and danced past his bulging eyes. The wave moved on and his head emerged into the air under the inverted hull. It was dark and he could hardly see. Another surge filled his mouth and throat with seawater as the hull banged and crashed against the unforgiving rocks.
The boat jolted to a stop. The water dropped away, and he found himself dangling face down in a net of tangled rigging. Foam-flecked water streamed past a few feet beneath him.
The last wave had left the boat wedged upside down between two large, shell-encrusted rocks. He wriggled and his left leg dropped free, but the other remained trapped, the same as his arms and torso.
As he struggled against the ropes, the movement of the sea drew his gaze to the front. He watched helplessly as a wave heaved towards him. His heart hammered and he tensed for the impact, but the wave was smaller than the previous one. It passed below without touching him.
That was close!
It was no good panicking like a fly caught in a web. The only way to untangle himself was to methodically work out what to do. His resolve lasted all of three seconds before he threw himself into another frenzy.
Wrenching his limbs and bouncing up and down in the network of ropes had no effect. Wave after wave rolled passed underneath him, some slapping his dangling body with their foamy crests, but none tall enough to reach the boat.
His eyes grew wild, and he writhed and twisted with a burst of frantic strength that rocked the boat. The prow scraped a handspan down the rock, then settled again. He froze. If it fell any further, he'd drown.
Another douse of icy spray brought him to his senses, and he concentrated on freeing his left arm. Forcing himself to stay calm, he wiggled his elbow and twisted his wrist, inching the cords along his skin until his arm slithered from its binding. He bared his teeth, unwrapped the rope around his shin, and his right leg dropped free. With nothing holding him up except the tangle around his right arm, his body swung down. For a second he hung by his arm until, with a painful wrench, it slipped from the tangle.
He dropped like a stone into the seething water, bracing himself for a collision with unyielding stone, but an enormous wave whacked into him and pushed him head over heels through the gap between the rocks and out the other side. As he tumbled he banged his knee, gasped in agony and choked on a mouthful of water.
Seconds whirled past in a mist of pain until his brain hammered on the door of his consciousness to alert him to the fact that his feet were touching something solid.
Sand!
Grunting as he strained to keep his mouth out of the water, he paddled forward, dimly aware he was being pummelled by surf. His chest, then his belly emerged from the foam and his feet gained traction.
Groaning and panting, he hobbled through knee-high water onto a beach.
His chest ached. Sobs tore from his throat. His limbs were like jelly, and he fell to his hands and knees.
The wave that had pushed him to the shore was flowing back down the beach, pressing against his forearms and thighs as it retreated, threatening to return him to the sea. He crawled against it, panting and shaking. An age later, his fingers sunk into dry sand and he dragged himself another few feet before he collapsed.
His mind slipped into the comfort of unconsciousness and the last thing he heard was the cry of a solitary bird.
************
The story continues in book 2 - Dangerous Ideals