Teel clenched his fists together. ‘We’ve gone too far from home, my lord, and we’re being punished for it.’
Jaco smiled.
‘The Machinery,’ he said.
Teel nodded. ‘Yes, my lord. We’re from the Overland. We’re a part of the Machinery. It felt us leave it behind, and it’s punishing us. That’s why we’re lost, out here. We lost ourselves, when we left, and now we’re lost at sea.’
There was a sound, in the dark – the screech of a bird. The crewmembers on the deck muttered to one another in hushed voices.
‘Second,’ Jaco said, ‘the Operator has sanctioned our voyages. He would not have done so—’
‘No, sir, no.’
Jaco’s eyes widened. He seemed unaccustomed to being interrupted. He was so like Drayn’s mother. He’s higher than the rest of these folk, and it’s nothing to do with a title.
‘I’m sorry, my lord, truly.’ Teel bowed his head. ‘But the Operator is not the Machinery. They are not the same thing.’
Jaco looked back to Harra.
‘Do you think it sees us here, Teel?’
Teel nodded. ‘Yes, my lord. The Machinery knows all.’
They were back in the cabin.
‘My lord.’
Jaco turned towards Teel, who stood at the door again. ‘Death is coming,’ said the captain. ‘Who is it this time?’
But Teel shook his gleaming head. ‘No. That’s not it. Come.’
They all followed Teel through the memory ship, back up to the deck.
‘It’s land,’ said Teel.
Jaco grunted, and stared out into the ocean, which glowed in the light of the dawn. Drayn saw it, then – a grey mass.
‘Have we come home?’ Jaco asked. ‘Or back to the South?’
Teel silenced Jaco with a shake of his head.
‘This is not the Overland, or the southern lands, my lord. We have not found our way by accident.’ Teel squinted out into the greyness. ‘I don’t know where we are.’
Jaco nodded. ‘Have we seen any other ships?’
‘No. There’s no sign of life here at all. But the coast … I cannot be certain, my lord, but to my eye, this is the edge of a wide land. It is no outcrop. If it’s large, then it could be inhabited. And we don’t know who they are, the people that live there.’
Jaco sighed. ‘We have no choice. We must go there.’
The memory took them somewhere else: an expanse of pale-green grass and black, broken stone, at the side of a forest. The wind howled at them.
There were about a dozen crewmembers left untouched by the Blight. They had carved out a small camp at the side of the woods, in the shadow of three great boulders. They had food, and a supply of firewood: a hog was burning on a spit.
‘Why’s it stopped?’ said a voice.
Drayn turned her head, and saw Teel and Jaco, sitting on one of the boulders. Teel seemed healthier than before: his skin was pinker, his flesh thicker, and there was even a thin layer of stubble on his scalp.
‘The Blight?’
Teel nodded.
Jaco shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps it’s the climate.’
Teel grunted. ‘It’s like we were being poisoned by someone, and now they’ve decided to … stop poisoning us.’
Jaco did not argue.
‘If someone was doing that to us,’ he said, ‘I wonder why they’ve stopped?’
Teel glanced at the captain. ‘Maybe they’ve got us where they want us.’ He gestured to the other crewmembers, below the rocks. They were spread around in little groups, talking to one another and eating. ‘Everyone’s taken their mind off their work,’ Teel said. ‘Do you know what I mean, my lord?’
Jaco nodded. ‘I do.’
‘It’s just that … I feel something here, my lord. That’s all.’
Jaco stared at their surroundings.
‘Then what should we do, Teel?’
Teel jammed a thumb over his shoulder. ‘We should get back to the ship, my lord.’
Jaco glanced behind him, down to the shore beyond. Drayn could not see it, but she imagined the ship was there, tied to some rocks.
‘We should get back to it, and take our chances on the waves,’ Teel said. ‘Death is coming here, as well. I can feel it.’
The memory shunted forward, into the night. The crew were asleep around their little camp, all except Jaco, who sat at the edge of a rock, staring out into the woods. Drayn glanced quickly around. She saw Jandell and the older Jaco, watching this memory with the same fascination as her.
A noise came from the woods, one that could not be ignored. It was the cry of a newborn baby.
Teel was awake and on his feet, staring out into the trees, tightly grasping a blade. Jaco scrambled down from the rock to Teel’s side. The cry came again, closer than before. This time there were other sounds: the shifting of undergrowth, the crackle of sticks and twigs breaking underfoot.
‘We should get away from here,’ Teel said, in a quiet voice. ‘Nothing good is coming from those woods.’
The memory Jaco shook his head. ‘We don’t have time. And we don’t run away from crying babies.’
Teel grunted. ‘It’s not the baby I’m worried about. It’s whoever’s carrying it.’
The sounds came closer, almost as if the wanderers were at the very edge of the treeline, before they stopped altogether. Even the baby ceased crying. Perhaps a hand has been placed across its mouth.
‘They’ve seen us,’ Teel whispered. There was a tremor in his voice that was oddly unsettling. ‘They’re watching us.’
‘Wouldn’t you?’ Jaco whispered back. ‘If you were carrying a baby through the woods, and you stumbled across a group of strangers, would you run out into the middle of them?’ He glanced at Teel’s blade. ‘When they’re armed?’
The rest of the crew were awake now, too, on their feet and staring out into the woods. The only light came from the moon and the dying glow of the fire. ‘Light a torch,’ Jaco ordered a woman to his right.
He walked forward as the torchlight flickered around the camp. Teel grabbed him by the shoulder, but the captain shook him off. He approached the trees as quietly as he could, raising his hands in the air.
‘I don’t know if you understand me,’ he said, in what Drayn took as an attempt at a friendly voice. ‘We are from another land. We came here by accident, and we only wish to go home.’
There came a noise from the woods. It was not the cry of a baby, but a hushed whisper.
Another moment passed.
‘Please, come out to us,’ Jaco said.
There was silence. Nothing happened.
‘Please,’ Jaco said again. ‘I swear, we mean you no harm.’
And then she came.
The woman was young to look at, somewhere in her twenties or early thirties. But there was an air of something old in the way she carried herself, and in the glances of her eyes. And what eyes they were: green as grass, green as emeralds, green as a snake. Almost as green as the dress she wore, a long gown