37. In which there is a reckoning
IN WHICH THERE IS A RECKONING
The black shadow grew, snaking away and then rounding back.
Hester stuck out her chin and braced her hands on her hips, standing by the tiller, Septimus behind her.
Orcus breached the surface in his killer whale form, the spray from his blowhole misting her face, prismatic rainbows dancing in the air.
Her heart beat a rhythm against her ribs, like the drums on a battlefield, a call to arms.
Orcus opened his maw, all sharp teeth and the stench of death. His pink tongue rolled.
In the bottom of the boat, tucked away under the deck, Winston, Peggy and Frank shook with fear. But Hester was no longer afraid. Let him come. She would face him. Together, they would face him.
Beside her, her mother’s wings flared, golden light spilling from her. “You knew he would come.”
“I did,” Hester said, reaching behind for Septimus’s thigh, her fingers digging into the reassuring bulk of him. She would not cower from the demon any longer.
Orcus spoke, his voice cold and grating in her head, “My offer still stands. Come with me, and I will reveal your history, give you everything you desire.” He closed his mouth, water running through his teeth, and turned a black eye on her.
The sea frothed around him, like even the water wanted to escape his presence.
“I have no need for history,” Hester said, ducking to grab the harpoon gun from the centre of the boat.
She pressed it into Septimus’s waiting hands with two harpoons.
She would save the third, the one Orcus had touched, as a last resort.
“And I have everything I desire.” It was true.
She had her friends. She had love. And while she had failed to find glory on this expedition, she had found so much more.
Hester crooked her fingers, flaring the power in her chest, and the black storm front that had retreated an hour ago crept back towards them, lightning flashing and illuminating the swirling mass of angry clouds.
The pressure in the air built, but she would weather this storm, as she had weathered all the others.
She threw a glance at her mother. There was no resentment left in her heart.
No, she still had no idea where she came from, but she knew who she was.
It had been inside of her all this time.
Another huff of mist blew from the orca. “You have everything you desire?”
“I do.” Her fingers tingled with power, the thunderhead rolling inexorably towards them. “The future is the only thing that matters.” A future that was shimmering just a little way out of her reach. A future with Septimus, with Charlotte, with her friends and her dog and even with Satan.
The first harpoon fired from behind her, the iron bolt spearing through the air to land in the black flesh of Orcus.
Time seemed to stretch. And then the great whale reared, screaming with rage.
Hester twisted her hands, bringing lightning streaking from the sky and crashing into the black monster.
Her heart thumped harder in her chest, wicked delight roaring in her veins.
To have the power to burn him was pure ecstasy.
She struck him again and again. “I would never abandon those I love to go with you,” she shouted over the foaming ocean.
“I will not help you drown the innocent, either.” The orca thrashed in the water, and the acrid smell of lightning filled the air.
Waves crashed into the side of the Tempest, almost sending them overboard, but Septimus gripped her as she struck the writhing devil again.
Hester panted, a snarl etched on her face. The power felt good. It flowed from her heart, through her blood, wrapped her up until she felt invincible, her cheeks flushing, skin prickling.
Orcus’s voice rang between her ears, “You cannot defeat me. I will devour you and all of your friends.”
Never. She would never let that happen. Would do anything for her friends, would give up her life for them. Wouldn’t even need to think about it. Sacrificing herself would be as easy as breathing. But no, it needn’t come to that. She would fight with everything she had and more.
She risked a quick glance at Winston, Peggy and Frank huddled in the bottom of the boat, and the magic surged around her, sparks dancing like fireflies in the air. She would never let him near enough. She would protect them until her last breath, and beyond it.
Hester smote Orcus again, lightning sizzling, dancing and spearing down from the sky, the pink afterglow zigzagging like scars.
Septimus fired another harpoon, carefully aimed, and it stuck just above the orca’s eye. The beast roared again, its enormous tail slapping the water, freezing spray raining down on them.
She passed the final harpoon into Septimus’s hands. The one she had stolen back from Orcus on the ice floe. It glowed faintly blue in her hands, like the heart of a glacier. The light faded when Septimus fitted it into the gun.
Septimus’s voice rent the air, “For the Intrepid.”
The bolt arced through the sky, hitting Orcus directly in the eye. Black blood sprayed, oozing into the water, pooling on the waves like oil. Hester turned to Septimus, her chest puffed out with pride in him, in the man she loved.
That had to be the end of it. She had carried that harpoon with her over hundreds of miles of ice and ocean.
Orcus’s tail whipped up, and slammed back into the sea, mere inches from the Tempest. Hester brought more lightning down, dragging it from the turbulent skies, but her power was close to an edge, almost spent.
And oh, God, he was still alive. She had counted on that harpoon.
What if she couldn’t kill him? Panic speared her. She tried to pull more lightning out of the sky, but her magic spluttered and died. Used up, with land tantalisingly close, but not close enough.
If they couldn’t kill Orcus, there was only one option.
She grasped for Septimus. “I love you. I love you all. Make it to South Georgia. Go and save my crew. Tell them…” the words stuck in her throat, “tell them it was my honour.” She pulled his head to hers, kissing him hard on the mouth, teeth clashing.
She pulled out of his arms, determined not to look at his stricken face. If the only way to keep them safe was to go with the demon, so be it. She would go. Hell, there wasn’t much he could do if she then refused to help him, was there? Other than kill her.
“Hester, no,” Septimus shouted, reaching for her.
She stepped up onto the stern deck and cupped her hands to her mouth, filled her lungs with air.
“You want me, Orcus?” She cackled, clenched her fists.
“You might live to regret it. I’m a nightmare, honestly.
” She turned to Septimus, and the corners of her eyes crinkled.
“Isn’t that right?” He looked utterly defeated, his eyes without light, without hope.
She turned away. Couldn’t bear it. She would not be afraid.
She was saving him, saving Winston, Peggy and Frank, the crew on Elephant Island.
But oh, to have found his love and have to give it up so soon…
Her lower lip wobbled, and she clamped her teeth down on it, tasting iron. It wouldn’t do for him to remember her like this.
Orcus lay wounded on the surface, the waves crashing over him. “Come,” he rasped.
Clenching her fists, she took a step forwards, her toes on the edge of the deck.
Her mother flared her beautiful wings, light pouring from her. “No.”
Hester snapped her gaze to her mother. “It’s the only way.”
“I can bind him with my soul—now he is weakened—but it will use every last scrap of my existence to do so,” her mother said.
She sped across the waves and clasped her hands around the final harpoon, still stuck in the orca’s eye.
She yanked it free and flew back to Hester, handing over the weapon.
The metal burned cold in her hands, but a blue glow lit it from within.
“My darling daughter, I swore an oath when you were born that I would keep you safe, no matter what. I have not broken that oath, and that oath will bind Orcus. I have watched you all these years, and I am so proud of you. I beg your forgiveness. Everything I did has meant that you know life and love and joy.” She laid a hand on Hester’s cheek, a faint chill seeping into her skin.
The words seemed to swim slowly in the air between them.
Her mother was going to give up the last of herself.
Her mother, who she had only just met, who she still had so many questions for.
Hester looked into her mother’s eyes. Sea green, flecked with brown.
Her own eyes, staring back at her. For a brief moment, her heart tugged, and a memory swam to the surface.
A cabin on the side of a fjord. Laughter.
Sunshine. Sitting in her mother’s lap, two toddlers running on the lawn, an older boy, his head in a book.
Her father. Family. She started, her heart galloping against her ribs.
They all had wings. She rolled her shoulders, a weight there, translucent golden feathers at the edge of her vision.
Longing swelled in her heart, and she opened her mouth to speak, to ask, but no sound left her lips.
“Forgive me, darling. I wanted you to live, so that you might have what I had.” The ghostly hand swept across her cheek one last time.
“Cut the water with the harpoon. It will open a rift into the Underworld.” There was a blur of golden feathers, and her mother was darting across the waves towards Orcus.
She looked back once and then collapsed her wings and dove under the water.
The sea glowed golden, the light spreading far and wide.
Hester clutched the harpoon, her heart shattering upon her mother’s final words.
She raised it, the final sparks of her magic flowing into the cold metal, right to the very tip of the weapon.
She leant over the gunwale and tore the harpoon through the water.
The tip seemed to snag, and then there was a tearing, the noise of a thousand waves roaring, and the harpoon rent the ocean, a dark and gaping hole appearing, water spilling down into it.
There was a throb of power, as if energy from the storm itself had been sucked down. The writhing outline of Orcus was a shadow in the centre of the blaze of her mother’s light.
Infinitely slowly, the shadow and the light moved towards the rift. It gained momentum until the dark bulk was at the edge of the tear in the sea. And then the golden glow faded, the shadow disappeared into the void. The waves quietened.
Hester gripped the harpoon in both hands, drawing it back through the water, closing the tear she had made.
Septimus gripped her around the waist, pulling her back, thunder booming all around them, so loud the peals of it hammered through her chest. The harpoon weighed heavily in her hands, still glowing faintly. The feathers at the edge of her vision faded to nothing.
Hester stared out at the ocean, stared until the last of the light vanished, gripping Septimus so hard that her knuckles turned white. A tear slid down her cheek.
Gone.
Her mother was gone. Was never coming back.
She knew that for certain now, after all the years of wondering.
Because she had always wondered. Had a sickening hope that maybe they’d come back for her one day.
Had forever swung between a conviction that she’d been left because of the magic or left because they had no choice.
And now she knew it was the latter. Did it make a difference?
Yes. It made the world of difference. They had wanted her.
Had loved her. Had done what they thought was right to keep her safe.
She twined her fingers around Septimus’s.
They had kept her safe, so that she could have this wild and wonderful life.
She whispered, voice hoarse, drowned by the crash of the waves, “I forgive you.”