Navigator by Eoin McNamee

Author:Eoin McNamee [McNamee, Eoin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Action & Adventure, General
ISBN: 9780307497000
Google: 8_NAacevflcC
Goodreads: 7041593
Publisher: Yearling
Published: 2006-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The Convoke was crowded, but there was little noise. Shadows from the fire danced round the ancient walls. The Mortmain was on a low table in front of the fire, gleaming softly. The Resister leaders stood round it. All, that is, except Pieta. She sat in her usual chair by the fire. But this time she wasn’t slumped with a bottle. This time her back was straight and her eyes were bright and each hand rested on the shoulder of a child, a tall yellow-haired girl and a solemn yellow-haired boy, each with a look in their eyes that said that they had lived in their dreams for many, many years.

“The first thing we must say,” Chancellor began, “even before we start our discussion on what must be done, is how glad we are that Pieta's children have awoken from their long sleep.”

There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd. Pieta did not smile, but her eyes flashed and the children seemed to stand even more ramrod straight, proud and haughty like their mother.

“I agree,” the Sub-Commandant said, “but time is short. We must decide what to do with the Mortmain.”

“There is only one decision,” Pieta said, “and well you know it, Sub-Commandant. The Mortmain must be taken to the Puissance, the Great Machine in the north, and a way must be found to reverse it so that time flows the way it should.”

“I agree,” the Sub-Commandant said.

“I agree also,” said Contessa. Rutgar nodded sharply, and Dr. Diamond too. Wesley looked amused at the prospect. Even Samual did not disagree.

“Well, then,” Chancellor said, “we have agreed that much. The next question is, who will go?”

“Owen must go,” Contessa said. “It is his duty and his right.” Chancellor looked uncomfortable.

“What is it, Chancellor?” asked the Sub-Commandant.

“I fear I have bad news about Owen.”

“He is gone,” the Sub-Commandant said. “I knew that.”

“That is not all,” Chancellor said, his tone grave. “Not only has he left, but he has gone over to Johnston's side.”

There was a gasp from the hall. Cati cried out, “No!” Samual looked pleased. The only person who did not react was Wesley. He kept the same sardonic smile on his face.

“How do you know this, Chancellor?” said Contessa.

“I am not at liberty to say who gave me this information,” Chancellor said, his voice dense with sorrow, “but Owen was seen on the other side of the river—with Johnston. And Johnston had his arm around his shoulders. Owen was smiling.”

“A spy all along,” Samual said with satisfaction.

“No!” Cati shouted, jumping to her feet. “Owen was never a spy!” She burst into tears. People stared at her, but no one moved to comfort her. It was Wesley who walked over and put his arm round her, gently putting her back into her seat.

“This is grave news,” Contessa said. “I find it hard to believe.”

“I had difficulty believing it myself,” agreed Chancellor.

“Like father, like son,” Samual said. Cati leapt to her feet again, her face red, but Wesley hauled her back down in her seat and put his finger to his lips.

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