Read The Waterless Sea for Free Online Page B

watching as the old sailor forces the needle in and out of the canvas, pushing it through with a leather pad in the palm of his hand. Then he sees Arram glance about. Mouse shrinks into his hiding place between a barrel and the duck coop. Arram holds the sail out straight and begins to sing, a kind of song that Mouse has never heard before. The little boy sees the needle fly along the seam, darting in and out, but Arram is not touching it at all.
    Suddenly Arram looks up, and sees Mouse watching. He stops singing, and the needle drops, lifeless, into his lap. For a moment, the two stare at each other, the old sailor and the little boy. Then Arram smiles his toothless smile, and beckons Mouse closer. ‘You never heard a song like that before, eh, boy?’ Mouse shakes his head.
    â€˜I’ ll sing you another, if you like.’
    Mouse nods. The old man starts a low growling with words that Mouse can’ t understand, and the carved mouse in the little boy’ s pocket stirs as if it were alive. He pulls it out, and it sits up on his hand and cocks its head at him.
    Arram laughs. ‘You’ ll trap a fly in there, boy, if you don’ t watch out.’
    With a snap, Mouse shuts his mouth.
    Arram winks at him with his one eye. ‘Our secret, eh?’
    Mouse nods his head. Then his mother calls him to a meal, and he scampers away.
    Once or twice after that the little boy takes out his toy mouse and stares at it, but it doesn’ t move. He waits until he sees Arram sitting alone again, and he creeps up with his hands behind his back. ‘What is it, boy?’
    He holds out the mouse on his hand. Arram laughs his silent laugh, and sings softly. The mouse’ s tail flicks; its nose twitches. The little boy laughs too, and he listens to Arram’ s song, and watches the shape of his mouth as he sings.
    Night after night in his hammock, swaying with the ship, he practises the song. It’ s very difficult, but the little boy is clever and patient, and at last he makes the mouse’ s nose twitch. He does it again, and again, laughing with delight, until his mother comes in to see why he isn’ t asleep. He curls up obediently, clutching the mouse tightly in his hand, but he’ s too excited to sleep.
    The next day he shows Arram what he can do. The old man’ s face goes pale under its deep leathery tan, and he looks around fearfully. He seizes Mouse’ s arm and shakes him. ‘Never let anyone see that you can do that! Understand me, boy?’
    Mouse stares at the old sailor in mute rebellion. He wants to learn more. But Arram is afraid. ‘Tis a fearful thing to be a chanter, boy. I lost my home, my family, everything I ever loved, for the sake of this magic, and I were lucky not to lose my life.’ They strike a bargain: the old man will teach Mouse all he knows, in return for Mouse’ s silence. He doesn’ t have to tell him again to keep their songs secret; Mouse knows. The secret songs are called chantments . The magical tricks are called ironcraft .
    Before long the little boy can toss knucklebones without picking them up, and lace his shirt without touching the ribbons, and at night he makes the little mouse run up and down his arm.

    Night had fallen. Darrow trimmed the sail and let Heron rest on the waves, rocking gently just as his hammock had in those far-off days. He curled himself in the bottom of the boat, wrapped in a blanket, and stared up at the canopy of stars and the three moons. He had made good progress; the northern stars, the tip of the Spear, showed above the horizon.
    He had not dragged out these old memories for many years. It was surprising to find them, fresh as ever, as if he’ d opened an old forgotten trunk, shaken out some ancient garments, and found them scented like wildflowers. But there was an unhappy smell in the old trunk too, a dusty, suffocating smell. And it was that smell that pursued him into his dreams.

    The ship comes