Read Online The Spook's Sacrifice by Joseph Delaney - Free Book Online

taking Arkwright's advice, I slept in a hammock
under the stars while we headed south down the coast.
By dawn I hadn't exactly got my sea-legs but I was
feeling considerably better and was able to observe the
crew as they fearlessly climbed the rigging and
adjusted the sails. They had no time for us – it was as
if we didn't exist – but I didn't mind: they were always
busy, and when the ship was rolling or pitching badly,
it was a dangerous job for those perched high on the
masts.
    Arkwright knew a lot about seafaring, having made
quite a few trips along the coast in his army days. He
told me the names of the various parts of the ship: that
the left side was called 'port', the right side 'starboard';
and that 'fore' was the front of the boat and 'aft' the rear.
My dad had been a sailor, so I knew most of what he was
telling me already, but he'd also taught me manners so I
listened politely to everything he had to say.
    'County ships are always given the names
of women,' he explained. 'Take "Celeste", the name of
this one. As your study of Latin should tell you, Master
Ward, it means heavenly , and no doubt some women
are. But in a big storm a ship can be very unforgiving
if she's not handled correctly and treated with respect.
Some waves can be the size of a cathedral; they can roll
a ship like this over and swallow her up. Ships go
missing at sea, lost with all their crew. It happens all
the time. It's a hard life being a sailor – in its own way
just as tough as being a spook.'
    We had now sailed into the mouth of a big river
called the Mersey, and there, at anchor, we waited for
the tide. We hadn't left the County behind yet, it
seemed. We were to put in briefly at Liverpool to take
on additional supplies.
    Unlike Sunderland Point, Liverpool had a large
wooden quay where the Celeste could berth. Most of us
took the opportunity to stretch our legs, but the
witches stayed down in the hold. When I set foot on
the quayside, I experienced a strange sensation –
although I was standing on solid ground, it still
seemed to be moving under my feet.
    We waited about while the stevedores busied themselves
loading up our provisions so that we could
leave on the same tide. It was either that or be delayed
until nearly nightfall.
    Back on board, I stood beside Mam as the crew
untied the ship from her moorings. She had sought the
shade of the mainmast and kept shielding her eyes
against the sun and staring into the distance as if
expecting to see something. I followed the direction of
her gaze, and out of the corner of my eye saw her face
suddenly light up into a smile.
    Someone was running towards us. And to my
astonishment I saw that it was my master! He was
carrying his bag and staff and his cloak was billowing
out behind him. But the Celeste was already moving
away from the quay, the gap widening with every
second. The Spook threw his bag and staff towards us.
They landed on the deck and I quickly retrieved them
while he eyed the gap uncertainly. It was then that
Mam stepped forward and beckoned him towards the
ship.
    He turned instantly, ran back a little way, then
sprinted straight for the edge of the quay. My heart
was in my mouth. It seemed impossible that he could
leap such a distance. But leap he did: his boots landed
on the very edge of the deck, where he tottered and
started to fall backwards.
    Mam stepped forward and grasped his wrist, then
steadied him before pulling him forward to safety. He
seemed to fall into her arms as if they'd embraced, but
it was just the movement of the ship. He stepped back
a little and gave her a little bow before coming towards
me. I thought he had something to say to me, but he
picked up his bag and staff and headed for the steps
down to the hold – without even glancing at me.
    'I'm glad you're coming with us!' I called after him.
    He didn't so much as turn round.
    'Is he angry with me, Mam?' I asked.
    'More like angry with himself,' she replied. 'Give
him time. But for now I doubt he'll