The Castle in the Sea: Quest of the Sunfish 2 Read online

  Essie stopped to gaze at the large graceful building that rose up before them, its walls covered in carved and painted scenes which had once been vibrantly colourful, before the scouring salt air and wind took all the magic out of them. A mix of stylised human and animal figures interacted mysteriously; they probably told a story, but Essie couldn’t guess what it was. ‘I don’t think this is a castle,’ she said. ‘I think it’s a temple.’

  ‘Who cares what it is,’ Will said. ‘This place is awesome!’

  At the entrance was a large pair of carved ornamental doors, once gilded, most of the gold now tarnished and gone. Will gave them a push; they swung open easily. The two of them stepped inside. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the light.

  ‘It’s so beautiful,’ Essie said, gazing up at the vaulted ceiling, the tall decorative windows, the ornately patterned floor tiles.

  ‘Hey, look at this!’ Will said, his voice filled with excitement.

  Someone had been here before them; someone who was entirely of Will’s own mind. Carefully sorted and laid out in neat piles was a great quantity of useful stuff. There were containers of different sizes; lengths of rope—alas, none of them very long; plus glass bottles, plastic sheeting, sails, pieces of fishing net, buoys and floats. There were usefully shaped pieces of wood, which looked like they had come from boats, and, beside them, a smaller pile of bits of metal.

  Will gazed at it all hungrily. They were exactly the sorts of things he would have collected himself, and he appreciated the thoughtfulness with which they had been arranged. All at once, he was reminded of Spinner’s workshop, and homesickness rose in his chest.

  ‘I wonder who collected all this stuff?’ he said.

  ‘Someone else must have been stuck here,’ Essie said.

  They looked at each other, hope springing up in their hearts. ‘Hello?’ they called. ‘Anyone home?’

  They called at the tops of their voices, but heard nothing.

  ‘Maybe they’ve got other stuff too,’ Will said. ‘Like a radio transmitter.’

  ‘Or a boat!’

  They raced off to explore.

  They discovered that from the main entrance hall, one door led out to another courtyard—a kind of cloister—green and overgrown. An enclosed walkway surrounded the cloister, with two levels of rooms opening off them. These were all quite empty now, so it was difficult to guess what they’d been used for. Some might have been offices or bedrooms; others might have been classrooms. Behind these were outbuildings that might once have housed a kitchen, laundry, washing facilities, but had long since been stripped of anything useful.

  Another, smaller door opened onto a staircase which led up to the roof. Will and Essie climbed the stairs and stepped out onto the battlements, hoping to spot land or a passing ship, but the sea was empty. They went back into the stairwell and continued to climb. The breeze was murmuring above them and the sunlight filtering down. They emerged into a little tower room.

  It had once been a bell tower, and it still stood open to the weather. (The bell had lost its clapper—Will gave it a swing just to test it out, but it was silent.) In spite of the fact it was open to the elements, someone had turned it into a bedroom. A pallet on the floor made a bed, and boxes of different sizes had been stacked against the wall to make storage. A table and a stool—both very simply designed and made, with an old, pre-Flood look—stood under the window that looked out to sea.

  Essie looked through the boxes, and found a few pieces of greyish clothing; paperback books, a crime thriller and a book of poetry, both with curled, watermarked pages; a toothbrush, very shaggy. Essie thought there was something rather sad about the toothbrush. Meanwhile, Will had found real treasure in the next box: a fishing reel, with plenty of line still attached.

  ‘Look!’ he showed her gleefully.

  ‘Yay!’ Essie said. ‘Yummy fish!’ She had never particularly liked fish.

  Will’s pleasure dimmed a little when a search through all the rest of the boxes did not turn up any fishhooks.

  ‘Can you make one?’ Essie asked.

  ‘Maybe,’ Will said, frowning.

  There was also nothing resembling food in the tower room.

  ‘I guess he must have taken it with him,’ Will said. ‘Whoever he was.’

  ‘You think he got off the island?’

  ‘He must have,’ Will said, not wanting to consider the alternative.

  ‘This really is a pretty amazing place,’ Essie said. ‘I wonder who it belongs to?’

  ‘I don’t think anyone’s lived here for years,’ Will said. ‘Decades probably.’

  ‘You think it was abandoned after the Flood?’

  ‘Probably.’

  Essie looked around her, musing. ‘So do you think you could just . . . live here?’

  Will looked at her askance. ‘You mean now? I don’t think anyone’s going to stop us.

  ‘Well obviously now,’ Essie said. ‘This place is awesome. I guess I just meant . . . generally.’

  Will looked around him speculatively. ‘I don’t see why not,’ he said. ‘Although you’d always be wondering when the real owners were going to come back. Come on, let’s see what else we can find.’

  They completed their search of the castle with the discovery of the kitchen garden—a few herbs and vegetables survived amongst the weeds—and the remains of a neat little cooking fire with a little firewood stacked nearby. There were no pots or knives, but they were pleased to discover one fire-blackened frypan.

  Will grinned. ‘Now all we have to do is find something to put in it!’

  Delicacies

  They continued their circumnavigation of the island, equipped with the hookless fishing reel and some containers Will had found in the great hall of the castle.

  Further down the second beach, the sand ran out and became rocks again. The other end of the island was a fat, rounded teardrop shape, with huge pointed rocks rising to cliffs, tall trees clinging vertiginously to the cliff face, and a lot of prickly undergrowth that snagged at them as they passed. It was hard going climbing round it, but Will did spot a few rock ledges jutting over the ocean with deep holes beside them where he could possibly find fish. Eventually they made their way back to the little cove where they’d started.

  ‘Okay,’ Will said. ‘This is where we find some dinner.’

  He walked along the water’s edge for a while, then began to dig. Eventually he let out a cry of triumph, and pulled something long and glistening from the sand.

  ‘Gross!’ Essie cried. ‘What is that?’

  ‘Dinner,’ said Will, with a gleam in his eye.

  ‘You can’t be serious,’ Essie said.

  Will, who had responded in exactly the same way when Spinner first showed him a sandworm, gave her a superior look. ‘They’re an excellent source of protein. In some places they’re considered a delicacy. Better if you don’t chew them, though.’

  Essie stared at him for a moment more, still hoping he was joking. ‘Is there really nothing else we can eat?’ she said. ‘Edible seaweed or something?’

  ‘If I can make us a fishhook, they’re bait,’ Will said. ‘Until then, they’re dinner. Are you going to help me dig or what?’

  Essie helped dig. They filled their container with sandworms, which writhed about horribly, trying to escape. ‘Can we at least cook them?’ she begged.

  ‘I don’t think it’ll improve them much,’ Will said, ‘but sure.’

  He built a fire out of driftwood and lit it using an old bottle as a lens.

  ‘It’s so cool you know how to do all this stuff,’ Essie said.

  Will enjoyed her admiration, but answered modestly, ‘Sometimes I wonder whether Spinner was secretly training us to go on the run.’

  ‘Just as well he did,’ Essie said.

  Will wrapped the sandworms around a stick and grilled them over the fire, then handed one to Essie and took one himself. Essie squinted at it, screwing up her face.

  �
�On a count of three,’ Will said. ‘One—two—three.’

  They lowered them into their mouths. Essie did her best to swallow hers without tasting it, but didn’t quite succeed.

  ‘That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever eaten!’ she said, when it was down at last.

  ‘They don’t taste any better cooked,’ Will said.

  ‘I thought you said they were a delicacy?’

  Will shrugged. ‘Some people like weird stuff.’

  ‘I guess if you’re really hungry you’ll eat pretty much anything,’ Essie said.

  ‘Now you’re getting it,’ Will said. ‘Want another one?’

  They ate the rest of them. At first they both felt a bit icky in the stomach, but that passed and some of the raging hunger passed away too, leaving them a little calmer, although not, unfortunately, full.

  ‘So what are we going to do?’ Essie asked. She watched Will feeding the fire with sticks. ‘Should we build a signal fire?’

  Will considered. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Might as well.’

  Essie looked at him doubtfully. Something about the way he’d said it made it seem they wouldn’t have much need for a signal fire. ‘You really don’t think they’re coming back for us?’

  ‘Who, Annalie and Pod? I doubt it.’

  Essie stared at him now, her anxiety beginning to rise. ‘They wouldn’t just abandon us, would they?’

  Will shrugged, poking unhappily at the fire. ‘You know what the chances are of us surviving a storm like that, and both washing up somewhere safe? They probably think we’re already dead.’

  Essie was silent. She didn’t want to believe that Annalie might not be standing by ready to swoop in and rescue them, as she always had before. But then, she hadn’t really tried to rescue her when she was washed off the boat, either.

  ‘Annalie saw me, you know,’ she said softly. ‘When I went overboard. She tried to throw me the life-preserver but I couldn’t get to it.’ Essie paused. ‘I thought maybe she’d get the dinghy and try to rescue me, but she didn’t. She just turned away and left me to drown.’ She felt the tears welling up in her eyes and started to cry.

  Will looked at her helplessly from across the fire. He hated it when people cried. ‘Hey, don’t do that,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t like that.’

  ‘That’s exactly what it was like,’ Essie sobbed.

  Will tried awkwardly to explain. ‘Spinner always taught us that if someone gets washed overboard in a storm, you don’t go in after them.’

  ‘Why not?’ Essie said, shocked.

  ‘Because the most likely thing that’ll happen is no one gets rescued and you’ll both die,’ Will said.

  ‘Well, I didn’t die,’ Essie said stubbornly. ‘Neither did you.’

  ‘That’s not how it usually pans out, though.’

  ‘If it had been you on the boat, what would you have done?’ Essie demanded. ‘Would you have gone in after me?’

  Will thought about this, and she could see him wrestling with whether or not he should tell her the truth.

  ‘You would, wouldn’t you?’ she pushed.

  ‘Well, maybe,’ he admitted. ‘But it would have been a stupid thing to do.’ He paused. ‘I’m kinda known for that.’

  Essie gave him a half-smile.

  ‘Don’t blame Annalie,’ Will said. ‘I bet, the way she saw it, if she stayed on the boat and rode out the storm, she could always come and look for us later. If all three of us went overboard, there’s no way Pod could have done anything to help. Not all by himself.’

  Essie could see the logic of this, even though the sense of betrayal still stung. ‘So you do think she’s going to come and look for us, then?’

  ‘Well, I hope so,’ Will said. He could see that Essie didn’t find this answer very reassuring—and she needed reassuring. ‘Don’t worry. I’m going to get us off this island. Tomorrow I’ll start building a raft.’

  ‘We don’t have any tools or materials.’

  ‘There are loads of materials,’ Will said. ‘There’s all that stuff up at the castle, and there’s plenty more washed up here in the cove. Materials aren’t a problem.’

  ‘What about tools?’

  ‘Well—yeah,’ Will admitted. ‘Tools are a problem. I’ve still got my pocketknife, but that’s it. I’m just going to have to build it out of whatever I can find and lash it all together. I’ll need a sail, and something to steer with. We’re lucky the prevailing winds ought to take us in the right direction.’

  ‘What direction is that?’

  ‘You noticed the wind back on the other beach, right? You can tell by looking at the way the trees all grow that the wind mostly blows from west to east, and that’s the way we want to go, towards Dasto Puri.’

  ‘How do you know where Dasto Puri is if you don’t know where we are?’

  ‘Well, I’ve got a rough idea. It’s somewhere to the east of us. And we need to get there, pronto.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because that’s where she’ll go next. We have to catch up with her before she moves on.’

  ‘But she wouldn’t move on, would she?’ Essie asked, her earlier worries rekindling. ‘Not without us?’

  ‘I’d rather not have to find out,’ Will said.

  They spent their first night in the castle together in the little tower room.

  Essie felt a little shy about sharing a room with Will, but they were both so exhausted they fell asleep almost as soon as they put their heads down.

  The castaway life

  They woke the next morning, hungry, thirsty and slightly cold, to the harsh reality of life as castaways. If they wanted food, they had to find it. If they wanted a drink, they had to fetch water. If they wanted a fire, they had to gather the wood, build the fire and tend it. The warm seas of the archipelago meant the climate was mild, but the nights could be cool, and they had no clothes apart from what they stood up in.

  Although Will was eager to get started building his raft, he knew they were going to need more than sandworms to eat. He spent his first morning fashioning a fishhook out of scrap metal.

  While he worked, he laid out their plan of attack. ‘Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. Today I’m going to teach you how to make a still, how to light a fire and how to fish. That way you can keep us fed and watered while I get the raft built.’

  ‘Don’t you think we should try and work as a team?’ Essie asked.

  ‘We don’t have time for that,’ Will said. ‘We’ll get more done if we split up.’

  ‘But we’ll work more efficiently if there are two of us,’ Essie said.

  Will held up the metal he was working. ‘One fishing reel,’ he said. ‘One hook.’

  ‘Yes, but once you’re building the raft—’

  ‘Someone needs to feed us and someone needs to build,’ Will said, a little crossly. ‘Which is it going to be?’

  ‘Fine,’ Essie said. ‘I’ll fish.’

  As soon as the fishhook was finished, Will gave Essie a crash course in still-building, fire-lighting and fishing.

  ‘If you don’t know a place, you’ve got to start by reading the water,’ he explained as they headed for the rocks at the rounded western end of the island. ‘Look at the colour of the water, where the waves and the still bits are. Where the tide runs. Where there are pools, or drop-offs or rock ledges. You got to look for bait fish too.’

  ‘Bait fish?’

  ‘You know those little tiny fish you see swimming around in schools? They’re important, because the big fish want to eat them. So where there are bait fish, there are bigger fish, and if you watch the water, and get to know it, you can work out where the big fish might go to catch the little fish.’

  ‘You know, you’re making this sound very complicated,’ Essie said. ‘Don’t you just put the hook in and wait for something to bite?’

  Will narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, then explained. ‘Everything in the water is looking for food, and food travels on the tides. Some fish are
following the food, others are just waiting until it comes by. Hopefully, we can find a spot where we’ll find both.’ They had reached a long rocky outcrop jutting into the water. ‘This looks like a good place.’

  They clambered out to the end of it, and then Will showed her how to bait the hook with some sandworms they’d dug up along the way. He threw out the line and let it fall into the water. They waited for what seemed to Essie like a long time. Then Will gasped, and began drawing up the line.

  It was empty. ‘Took the bait but not the hook,’ he said, disappointed. He handed her the reel. ‘Okay. Your turn.’

  Essie wincingly jammed the hook through the wriggling worm and dropped it into the water. Again they settled in to wait.

  ‘Do you see how the tide’s really moving now?’ Will said. ‘See there? And there? That movement in the water?’

  ‘I guess so,’ Essie said, although the water didn’t really look any different to her. A moment or two later, she thought she felt the line shiver and go taut. ‘I think I’ve got something!’

  ‘Here, give it to me!’

  Will grabbed the reel from her eagerly and hauled in a fish—not large, but an actual fish. He turned to her with a grin. ‘There, you see? Easy! Tomorrow this is your job.’

  He kept baiting and throwing in the line, until he had three fish.

  The wait for the right tide, and the fish, had taken most of the afternoon, and they were both hot and thirsty. ‘Let’s go see how your still’s doing,’ Will suggested.

  They walked down to the beach where Essie had built her still. It was gone. She stared and stared, and then realised what must have happened. ‘I think the tide must have washed it away,’ she said.

  Will turned to look at her as if she was a complete idiot. ‘What? How?’

  ‘I thought it would work better if it had more water coming up into it,’ Essie explained. ‘I didn’t realise how far the tide was going to come up.’

  ‘You can see how far the tide comes up!’ Will snapped. ‘You just have to look for the seaweed.’

  ‘How was I supposed to know that?’ Essie cried.

  ‘It’s obvious!’ Will said.