Phoenix Rising Read Free

sun was at its brightest. Much of the Phoenix ’s deck was shaded to shelter the pirates from the glare.
    As if she heard his thoughts, Polly stretched a wing over Toby’s face. “Watch your eyes.”
    “I’m fine, there’re sight savers.” Toby pointed to the sprawling clouds that slid lazily towards distant shores that were finally turning green with new vegetation.
    “Look! Bad weather to come,” Polly squawked, drawing his attention to a line of grey on the horizon.
    Toby inhaled a deep breath of clean air and jumped out of the crow’s nest.
    “Maybe,” he called. “But not yet.”
    As he abseiled towards the scrubbed deck, he got a facefull of stinging spray and quickly wiped it off. A body length above the crew’s heads, he brought himself to a stop and kicked off from the pylon, swinging outwards with a cry. “Salvage mission!”
    Polly launched from his shoulder and flew beside him, his crimson and indigo shadow.
    As Toby spun over the crew, legs cycling, yelling his alert, the captain appeared from the control room. The crew immediately turned and looked to their leader, who pumped a fist.
    “Move it, we have salvage!”

    Bringing the Phoenix to a stop was no simple task. Barnaby Ford had built her to forge through the junk-filled sea. If she lost momentum there was a chance she’d be trapped in near-solid waste, unable to move.
    After half a dozen missions had left her wallowing as easy prey for the various Navies who sought control of Captain Ford and the Phoenix , he had dry-docked her once more and devised a system for salvaging junk that did not involve weighing anchor at all.
    Each crew member now had specific duties during a salvage mission – back-breaking tasks, which meant that if a mission was called unnecessarily they could get prettyresentful. The last mistake had old Arnav eating alone for a week.
    Swinging to a stop Toby muttered under his breath, “It’s good.”
    Polly fluttered back on to his shoulder and nuzzled his ear. “I’d have called it myself if I wasn’t a parrot.”
    Toby smiled. “I’d like to see their faces if you did. Even after all this time, they still think you’re an ordinary bird.”
    Toby dropped to the deck with a thud that vibrated through his ankle bones. He tossed the rope away and made for the sternward hatch that would lead him down past the galley towards the boiler room.
    “Divert power to the pumps, Toby,” the captain yelled, as though Toby hadn’t done the job dozens of times. “Slow this old girl down.”
    Toby waved acknowledgement of the order and ducked beneath a swinging canopy made of plastic chair backs. He spared a look upwards. Arnav was already shinnying towards the crow’s nest, his crooked toes confident on the rigging despite his age, his bow legs and the twisting of his weakened wrists.
    Coming towards him down the passageway, Big Pad was leading twelve of the strongest pirates. “All right, lad. Reckon you’ve spotted real treasure this time?” He jogged past Toby, already wrapping his hands with hessian inpreparation for turning the winding gear that would open the hull. Each of the four windlasses required three men to operate them.
    Most of the other crewmen were heading in the same direction, towards the bow, and now Toby had to fight against the tide.
    “I reckon you called salvage ’cause yer bored.” Crocker barged Toby with his shoulder. “No thought for those of us gotta do the actual work.”
    “Be silent, Crocker.” Amit slid in front of Toby. “Ignore him, Toby, he has a gaand main keera.”
    “A bug up his—” Amit’s teeth glinted as Ajay, his twin, translated. “Get to the wreck room, Crocker, we have a pump to prime.”
    “Let Toby through, you fools. You can’t do your jobs till he does his.” Dee was perching on top of the deck housing, sunlight shining on the dozen rings dangling from her right ear. Dee waved, then jumped down and started to herd her team of seven towards the hooks that