The Reject. Edyth Bulbring

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СКАЧАТЬ I’m a Reject. You can stop staring at me with those big eyes of yours.” He fills a bowl with water and drinks. Burps. “Now, where’s the food, Cow-Eyes?”

      Cow-Eyes. It’s a name I have been called many times. My eyes are too big on my face, my body too long and skinny, my hair too Savage, my skin too pale. I am the ugly friend of Kitty, the beautiful pleasure worker. But Nicolas found me beautiful. And when I was with him, I felt beautiful.

      “Juliet! Juliet, my lovely. Are you alright?”

      The Reject turns as he hears the cry from below deck and groans. “I think I’ll take your advice and push the old rubbish overboard. Gab-gab-gab, gab-gab-gab, the whole time I was tying him up. I had to punch him in the head to get some peace.”

      I hiss at him. He will regret using his fists on Reader.

      “Hang on.” The Reject stares at me slyly. “Juliet? That’s a name I’ve heard in the market. There’s a price on your head, Juliet Seven.” He rubs his fingers together. “A large number of credits.”

      I strain against the rope. Rejects are loyal to no one – the traders of Slum City treat them with as much cruelty as the Posh do. The boy would sail the sloop back to Mangeria and trade me to the Locusts.

      I look towards the horizon. Reader was right, a storm is brewing. The sun is rising in the grey sky, and clouds are massing above Slum City. But it is not smoke – the fires have died down. The bird did not lie.

      “The war is over,” I say. “No one will pay credits for me. I’m worth nothing to you. Let me go.”

      The Reject laughs. “The price on your head stands. There’re a few Guardians who want a piece of you. You must have pissed off a lot of people.”

      Mistress, my mother. She will not have forgiven me for sabotaging the procedure and endangering Larissa’s life. And Nicolas’s father. He will want to teach me a lesson for kidnapping his son, or so he believes.

      “What’s your name?” I ask. If this Reject is going to sell me for credits, his name will be the last curse on my lips.

      He shrugs. “I’ve been called lots of things by my masters. A name means scat to me.”

      I smile through my teeth as I bunch my fists. “I think I’ll call you Gollum. It’s a favourite of mine.” Gollum, the hideous creature from a book Reader once lent me; despised and cursed for stealing a precious ring. “You look like a Gollum. A handsome, sweet-tempered boy with goodness in his heart.” My words drip with honey. “If you release me, Gollum, I’ll show you where we keep the food. I can cook you porridge. And maybe you’d fancy some banana?”

      And when your back is turned, a knife between your shoulder blades.

      The Reject nods. “Gollum’s a strong name, better than most. And maybe I will let you cook and serve me before I hand you over to the Locusts. But if you burn my food, Cow-Eyes, I’ll beat you.” He grins. “I think I’ll beat you anyway.”

      The noise of banging comes from below deck. “Juliet, please answer me. Tell me that you are alive. The storm is coming. We are not safe. We need to raise the anchor and set sail before it is too late.”

      “Raise anchor? I can do that. Then I’ll take you home. There’s a cell in Savage City with your name on it.” Gollum crosses the deck and begins to winch up the heavy chain. He has no meat on his bones, but as he secures the anchor on deck, I see that his arms and back are strong. “Time to head on back to shore.”

      Suddenly a rogue wave smashes against the hull of the seacraft. Gollum falls and scrambles to his knees, but the sloop broaches and water sweeps him along the deck. The mast groans against the rising wind.

      Laughing like a madman, Gollum crawls down the length of the deck. He clings to the railing as a giant wave breaks over the stern, drenching him in sea water. His satchel is whipped down the deck towards me. I stretch out my foot and trap it. I know I’ve found the knife when it stabs my hand. I pull it out and attack the rope around my waist and my ankles. The wind screams in the rigging and I cling to the mast.

      As Gollum reaches me, another wave hits the seacraft, throwing it over on its beam ends. My hands slip; the wind pulls me towards the railing. Before I can be swept away, Gollum grabs me, pushing me against the mast, and wraps his arms around me.

      2

      THE PIRATE

      I stumble out of the cabin onto the deck. Pain slices through my shoulder; the side of my head is caked with blood. I shade my eyes against the sun. There is no sign of land, only an endless stretch of black sea. Hot wind swirls across the deck.

      Someone moans behind me. Gollum is curled in a ball around the mast. I kick him in the gut, grab his face and push it down. “Don’t breathe. Don’t move. One sound and I’ll make your face uglier than it is already.”

      Tears bite my eyes as the bones grate above my breast. I ignore the pain and tie his hands and feet, and loop the rope around his neck. I wrench up his head and fasten the rope tight to the mast. It’s his turn to be trussed up like a slab of meat.

      “Looks like you got hurt, Cow-Eyes. And from the way you’re huffing and puffing, it sounds like maybe you broke something.” Gollum swallows, and moistens his lips. “I need water. Get me some. I’m asking nicely now. Pretty please.”

      I raise my arm and the movement makes me gasp. I press the tips of my fingers across my shoulder blade. It is tender.

      Scanning the deck, I see that our water provisions are gone, probably swept overboard. Containers are upturned, rope and sheeting turfed out of their boxes.

      Banging and muffled cries come from below.

      I slam back the bolt on the door to Reader’s berth. He’s lying tied up on the floor with a jumble of books and clothing, staring blindly at the ceiling. I kneel and trace my fingers over the blue-and-purple bruises on his cheek. I think of Gollum’s stinking fists beating this old face. I think of all the things I am going to do to the Reject when I get above deck. When I am done with him, he won’t smirk at me with that broken-toothed mouth again.

      Reader jerks. “Juliet, is that you?”

      “I see you put up a good fight, old man. Lie still and let me untie you.”

      “You sound breathless, Juliet. Are you hurt? Did that boy harm you?” Reader shakes his hands free of the rope and flexes his fingers, rubs his feet. He sits hunched over, his head in his hands.

      “Stop fussing. The storm came just as you said it would. I thought it would crush our seacraft or we’d capsize. It’s stopped now, but I think it will be back.”

      Reader lifts his head. “The boy took me by surprise. I tried to warn you but he was too strong. I could not bear to think what he was doing to you. I lay here like a foolish parcel unable to do anything. Did he hurt you? Did he?” Tears leak from Reader’s eyes and he sobs.

      “I’ve dealt with the boy. He won’t mess with us again. Come, have some water. You’ve drained most of it from your body with all that wailing.”

      We climb up on deck. The sea stretches forever. Black glass, cracking. The giant СКАЧАТЬ