Sarah Driver - Sky

To Granny, for inspiring me to rove the great wide and knowing the sea like you were Sea-Tribe.

First published in Great Britain 2017

by Egmont UK Limited

The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

Text copyright © Sarah Driver, 2017

Illustrations copyright © Joe McLaren, 2017

Additional interior illustrations by Janene Spencer

First e-book edition 2017

ISBN 978 1 4052 8468 4

Ebook ISBN 978 1 7803 1764 9

www.egmont.co.uk

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet.

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication and Copyright To Granny, for inspiring me to rove the great wide and knowing the sea like you were Sea-Tribe. First published in Great Britain 2017 by Egmont UK Limited The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN Text copyright © Sarah Driver, 2017 Illustrations copyright © Joe McLaren, 2017 Additional interior illustrations by Janene Spencer First e-book edition 2017 ISBN 978 1 4052 8468 4 Ebook ISBN 978 1 7803 1764 9 www.egmont.co.uk A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet.

Hackles

Trianukka

Skybrary

PART 1: The Great Wide

1: Sea Urchins

2: Bragful Boastings

3: The Dread

4: Witch-work

5: The Mountain

6: Hackles Rising

7: The Dredging

8: Sawbones

9: The Star Door

10: Abomination

11: The Runesmith and a Borrowed Longbow

12: Hidden, Secret

13: Swift Feathers

14: Stench Songs

15: Trespass

PART 2: Hidden Places

16: Bedraggled

17: Yapok’s Iceberg

18: Tea and Books and Butterballs

19: Owl-weather

20: Crow and the Dream-dancer

21: Debauchery

22: The Wild Tastes like Old Blood

23: Dead Runes

24: Black Rain

25: Quiet Warriors

26: No Hearth-welcome

27: One Tribe’s Poison

28: Monstrosity

PART 3: Unity

29: Spirit Battles

30: Da

31: Naming Ceremony

Acknowledgements

Back series promotional page

I stand on the deck of the Huntress , blinking snowflakes from my eyelashes. In the palm of my hand rests a green jewel. When I peer inside it, my own grey eyes stare back, jolting ripples of shock through my chest in time with the oarsman’s drum.

The jewel turns cold, wet and blubbery. Then it grows a spotted skin, like a whale shark. Gills wheeze open in its surface, oozing foam.

I know, sure as the Sea-Tribe blood in my veins, that I’m holding the Storm-Opal of the sea.

And I know I have to protect it, with every stitch of me, but the burden presses on my shoulders, heavier than the beat of the drum.

The jewel splutters and a speck of saltwater prickles my lips. It needs the sea.

We need the sea.

I raise my arm to throw the Opal overboard, its gills struggling against me, but freeze when an urgent voice coils through the roots of my mind, like fog.

Keep this hidden, Little-Bones. I cannot return, there is grave danger. Seek the scattered Storm-Opals of Sea, Sky and Land, before an enemy finds them and uses them to wield dark power. Take them to the golden crown before all Trianukka turns to ice, trapping the whales beneath a frozen sea. Remember the old song? The song will make a map. Keep your brother close by your side, and know you’re never alone. I will find you when I can. Da.

A ragged breathing makes my skin shiver, as though spiders are tiptoeing along my spine. As I turn my head towards the noise, my ship begins to shift – until her deck is slick with blood and her flanks are studded with huge, fire-spitting guns.

A face blurs into focus. The eyes dark and full of rage, the brows heavy and black, the thin lips pulled into a sneer.

The face belongs to the murderous-false captain; the man in a red cloak and boots with brass buckles, the navigator who stole our ship. The one who took Grandma away.

Stag.

Even in the dream-world my muscles squirm to run from him.

A stooped man in a cloak of purple lightning appears by Stag’s side. Stag whispers in his ear. Then the two of them raise their arms slowly to point at the Opal in my hand.

I close my fingers around the jewel and tuck it close to my heart. My bones feel scalded. I wish their greed-filled eyes never touched the Opal.

There’s a flurry of movement and when I look up Stag’s pointing a gun out towards the plank. My eyes follow his to a bundle of rags huddled there.

Grandma.

Before I can move, or shout, or anything, fire explodes from the gun and the grey world is streaked with splashes of red. The sky blinks, and the edges of the dream wobble like air above a flame, and then my hand’s empty. And the loss makes me stagger. The Opal spins away and suddenly it’s in Grandma’s eye socket. But she’s falling, crashing into the sea, wrenching out my heart as hers drowns.