The Turning Tide

by Rob Kidd

  “If it’s someone who threatens the safety of this ship—” Jean said, taking a step forward. Marcella shoved him back.

  “It isn’t, all right?” she hissed. “It’s just a friend. I said we could give her a ride to India. She’s not bothering anybody!”

  “A ride! To India? Marcella, we can’t have a stowaway on board!” Jean protested. “What if Jack finds out you’ve been hiding her?”

  “He won’t!” Marcella said threateningly. “Why do you have to be so bossy and interfering? Why can’t I have a friend for once? I never complain about all your stupid friends that I’m stuck with all the time, day in and day out, on this smelly, cramped ship!”

  This was quite far from the truth. Marcella, in fact, complained nonstop about Jean’s friends and had been doing so from the moment she and Jean had come aboard the Pearl.

  Jean sighed. “Look, why don’t we just tell Jack about your friend, all right? I’m sure he won’t mind dropping her off wherever she needs to go.”

  “No!” Marcella said vehemently, seizing his arm. “Don’t you dare, Jean Magliore! You say one word of this to Jack Sparrow, and I’ll march right into his cabin and tell him the secret you are keeping from him!”

  Jean gaped at her. “He’ll leave us all in India if you do that!”

  “Exactly.” Marcella folded her arms. “So you’d better keep your bouche shut.”

  The shadows jumped and darted around them as the lantern swayed with the ship. Jean was horribly torn. Who was hiding back there, among the boxes and rigging? Was it someone dangerous? But then, what could one person do, outnumbered by all the pirates in Jack’s crew?

  Maybe it was just an innocent stowaway, after all.

  Jean ran his hands through his hair in frustration, leaving it sticking up in fluffy reddish tufts.

  “All right,” he said, pointing at her. “But she gets off in India. And if she does anything suspicious, you tell me right away.”

  Marcella rolled her eyes. “Will you please just take the barrel now, Monsieur High and Mighty?”

  Reluctantly, but feeling like he had no choice, Jean hefted the barrel in his strong arms and edged up the ladder. Marcella slipped by him in the passageway and pattered ahead to the galley with two bottles of rum in her hands.

  Jean paused for a moment, listening.

  He was almost certain he heard quiet laughter rising from the dark, hidden corner of the hold.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Diego swung down the ratlines, clambering nimbly from rope to rope. He reached the cross-beam of a sail and paused to look down.

  Carolina was standing at the railing, watching the shore of India slip by. Her long, dark hair blew freely in the wind. She was barefoot, wearing the loose dark trousers and white shirt of a pirate. A long sword hung from her belt.

  She was so beautiful, it made Diego’s chest hurt to look at her. For years, he’d adored her from afar—a stable boy with an impossible yearning for a Spanish princess. But then she’d turned to him for help with her escape from a Florida fort, and he’d immediately agreed to help smuggle her out of San Augustin. Anything to get her away from El Cruel, the scheming old governor she’d been betrothed to against her will.

  Now here they were, halfway around the world, living the wild, free life of pirates. Still, Carolina was a Spanish princess at heart. Surely it was too much for him to hope that she felt the same way about him…wasn’t it?

  Carolina glanced up and spotted him. Her face lit up in a brilliant smile. She turned and checked around the deck, then beckoned to him.

  “I think it’s safe to come down,” she called in a stage whisper. “Marcella is napping again.”

  Marcella had always slept more than anyone else, but she’d been doing a lot of extra “napping” since they left Hong Kong, disappearing belowdecks for hours at a time. Not that anybody minded. As long as Marcella wasn’t on deck, nobody had to listen to her complaining loudly about the food, the smell, the waves, the hygiene of everyone aboard, or the way the sun was deliberately and—she was sure—spitefully shining in her eyes no matter where she sat.

  The only person she didn’t complain about was Diego, but he rather wished she would. It would be much easier than being the object of her affection.

  Diego dropped lightly to the deck beside Carolina.

  “You need a haircut,” Carolina said, brushing back a lock of his dark hair. “You’re starting to look like a wild pirate or something.”

  “Whereas you make such an effort to look like a lady,” he joked with a smile.

  “Maybe Marcella could cut your hair for you,” Carolina teased.

  “Stop that,” Diego said. “Don’t even joke, or she might hear you and come at me with a pair of scissors. What are you looking at out there?” He leaned on the railing next to her, close enough to smell the jasmine scent of her hair.

  “I’m watching for tigers,” Carolina said dreamily, resting her elbows on the rail. “Or elephants. I was reading about them in one of the books from Jack’s cabin. It said they’re bigger than horses! Do you think we’ll see any?”

  “Maybe.” Diego gazed into the dark green jungle, separated from them by a stretches of sparkling sea and muddy sand. He could see flashes of red and yellow and light green as birds darted through the trees. Above them in the clear, blue sky, hawks were circling. According to Barbossa, they were close to Bombay now; the first of the islands ruled by Sri Sumbhajee was just coming into view ahead of them.

  “Actually,” Carolina said, looking at Diego’s hair again, “didn’t Jack say that Alex was a barber?” She leaned around him, searching the deck for the shuffling, mumbling, decaying character Jack had been “given” by Tia Dalma.

  Diego gave her an alarmed look. “Don’t even think about it,” he said. “I’m not letting him near me with a razor!”

  “That is just outright unfair bias against zombies,” Carolina said. “So he smells a bit like a graveyard; I’m sure he’d do an excellent job. Although he might leave a finger in your hair.” She giggled, wrinkling her nose.

  “Why are you torturing me?” Diego asked, but he couldn’t help smiling, too.

  A sudden cry from the forecastle wiped their smiles away. “A sail! A sail!” Jean cried. He pointed out to sea. “There’s a ship coming this way!”

  Jack shot from his cabin, blinking, as Carolina and Diego hurried up to the prow. There was indeed a ship sailing out from a gap between the islands ahead of them. Was it the East India Trading Company? A military vessel? Or more pirates? Carolina shivered, and Diego knew she was thinking of the Spanish navy, which as far as they knew was still out there looking for her.

  Jack took the spyglass from Jean and peered through it. “Ah,” he said. “As I predicted. Where’s Barbossa? He loves it when I’m right.”

  “You mean it’s one of Sri Sumbhajee’s pirate ships?” Carolina said eagerly.

  “On the contrary, love,” Jack said. “That’s the Otter, so it’s Sri Sumbhajee himself. See that long blue pennant with the black cutlass on the top mast? That’s his jolly roger. The Pirate Lord himself is gracing us with his presence. He must know it’s me coming.” Jack preened for a moment and then stopped, looking worried. “Oh, dear. I hope he’s forgotten about the…incident.” He shot a guilty sideways look at his crewmates. “Um. Back in a moment.” Jack hurried off to his cabin. After a moment they could hear thumps and bangs from behind his door, as if he were flinging trunks around the room.

  Carolina and Diego exchanged glances.

  “That’s ominous,” Carolina commented.

  “Should we try to run?” Diego asked Jean.

  “I don’t think so,” Jean said. “I mean, this is who we’re looking for. We need his vial of Shadow Gold. Let’s just hope he’s feeling friendly.”

  BOOM!

  A cannonball flew out from the other ship and landed with an enormous splash in the water beside them. The waves rocked the Black Pearl violently.

  “Oh, sure,” Car
olina said, seizing the railing to stay upright. “They seem friendly enough.”

  Without waiting for his captain’s orders, Jean grabbed the white flag of Parlay and waved it in the air. “Parlay!” he yelled. “Parlay!”

  There was no response from the Otter, but no further cannonballs either. As the ship slid closer and closer, Carolina and Diego could see three men standing at the prow with their arms folded. Two of the men were tall and wide and looked exactly the same. Both had long, black beards and thick, bristling moustaches that swept out to precise points at the ends. And both wore dark green turbans and woven goldand-green vests over brown, striped tunics, with wide gold sashes wrapped around their waists.

  In between them stood a tiny Indian man with graying black hair. Despite his diminutive size, Carolina and Diego could tell right away from the imposing look on his face that this was the Pirate Lord Sri Sumbhajee. He had fierce brown eyes over a long nose and a thick beard which seemed to be parted down the middle. The carefully folded turban on his head was a richer green than his companions’, and it was clasped with an enormous gold-and-pearl brooch as big as a man’s hand. His robes were long and opulent, woven and embroidered in green, red, and golden-brown patterns.

  As the ship pulled closer, Jean signaled to Billy to drop the Pearl ’s anchor, and the sailors on board the Otter did the same.

  “Parlay!” Jean called again.

  “Yes, all right,” said one of the big men aboard the Otter in heavily accented English. “We heard you.”

  “Sri Sumbhajee would like to know what the notorious Jack Sparrow is doing in his waters,” said the other big man. “Sri Sumbhajee sensed he was coming by the tingling in Sri Sumbhajee’s beard.”

  “When Sri Sumbhajee’s beard tingles, he always knows something bad is on its way,” the first man added ominously.

  Diego glanced at the Pirate Lord, who had his arms folded and was glaring at the Black Pearl. “Why doesn’t he speak for himself?” he whispered to Carolina.

  “Oh, he never speaks,” she whispered back. “He always has his aides do all his talking. Nobody knows why. I read about that.”

  Jean pressed his hands together in front of his chest, palms facing each other, and bowed slightly to Sri Sumbhajee. “Thank you for allowing us safe passage,” he said.

  “Sri Sumbhajee has not granted you safe passage,” rumbled one of the big men.

  “Sri Sumbhajee has not forgotten the last time he was honored with a visit from Jack Sparrow,” growled the other.

  “But we’re here on important business,” Carolina interjected. “We’re going around the world warning the Pirate Lords of the Brethren Court about the Shadow Lord!”

  The funny part, Diego reflected, was that at this point Carolina had worried about the Shadow Lord so much, she probably believed that was their real mission. Most likely she had forgotten all about the Shadow Gold.

  The aides glanced down at Sri Sumbhajee, who made a small gesture with his left hand and nodded.

  “Sri Sumbhajee knows all about the Shadow Lord. Sri Sumbhajee sees all and knows all,” said one.

  “Nonetheless,” the other added quickly, “Sri Sumbhajee will allow you to tell him what you know of this Shadow Lord.”

  “Wait!” Jack’s voice called from the cabin. “Here it is! Got it! Coming!” He dashed out of the cabin and sprinted up the steps, waving something that glittered red in the sunlight. Diego blinked at him and realized Jack was holding a bloodred ruby the size of a fist.

  “Sri Sumbhajee!” Jack called out. “Nice to see you again! Except in the sense of it actually being pleasant in any way. Were you looking for this?” Jack held up the gem so the sun shone through its facets, casting flickering reflections like fire on the boards of the ship.

  Sri Sumbhajee glared even more. He kicked one of his aides in the shins.

  “Sri Sumbhajee wishes to observe that the item in your hand belongs to him and has been in his family for generations,” the man said, wincing. “He was most displeased to find it missing after your last visit to our shores.”

  “And, I assure you, I was most displeased to find it had accidentally fallen into my pocket,” Jack said charmingly. “One moment, there it was, gleaming from the eye of a statue in the middle of the jungle, and then all of a sudden—poof—in my coat. I can’t imagine how that happened. I absolutely had to turn around at once and bring it back.”

  The men on the deck of the Otter narrowed their eyes at him. “It seems to have taken you a few years,” observed one of the aides.

  “Well, you know how it is,” Jack said, waving one hand in the air. “Big world, busy pirate things to do, lots of, er…waves in the way.”

  “Jack, tell them about the Shadow Lord,” Carolina prompted him.

  “Yes, yes,” Jack said. “All in good time. Perhaps we could go back to your palace and discuss it?” he said to Sri Sumbhajee with a winning smile. “Very big danger, you know. Worldwide threat and all that. Well, I’m sure you know. Your, er, beard has probably been muttering about it for a while now, eh?”

  Sri Sumbhajee’s moustache twitched. He grabbed his aides’ robes and forced them to lean down so he could mutter in their ears.

  “So he can speak,” Diego whispered to Carolina, “he just chooses not to.”

  The aides stood up and beamed at the crew of the Pearl with wide, insincere smiles. “Sri Sumbhajee welcomes you to India,” the first one said with a little bow. “He invites you to stay in his palace while you are here.”

  “If you will follow our ship, we will lead you back to Suvarnadurg,” said the other. “And there you may return the property of Sri Sumbhajee to him.”

  “Splendid,” Jack said. “Right. We’ll follow you.”

  “Sri Sumbhajee will be watching,” one of the aides said darkly.

  “Well, I expect so,” Jack said. “Do you mean with his eyes or with his beard?”

  None of the three men responded to this. Instead, their sailors ran to lift the anchor, and Jack commanded his to do the same.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea, Jack?” Diego said. “What if it’s a trap?”

  “Oh, it’s definitely a trap,” Jack said expansively. “But it’s a trap with Shadow Gold in it, isn’t it? Don’t worry, lad. Escaping from traps is my specialty. That or getting thrown out of them because someone realizes they don’t want to keep me around after all.” He sauntered off to check the jib, tossing and catching the ruby in one hand.

  Diego knew that what Jack was saying was probably true. All the same, as they followed the Otter between the high green shores of the islands, Diego had an uneasy, sinking feeling.

  Once they were inside Sri Sumbhajee’s fortress…would they ever get out again?

  CHAPTER THREE

  From a distance, the island of Suvarnadurg looked no different than any other island near the port of Bombay. The cliff walls that faced the sea were perhaps a little too straight, a little too steep even at the top, but it was hard to tell through the greenery that grew along the shore and up the rocky sides. It wasn’t until you sailed right up to it that you noticed the cliffs looked an awful lot like fortress walls.…

  “Well, I’ll be,” Billy said, shoving his hat back on his head to stare up at the huge stone walls that ran the entire way around the island. Under the heavy moss, the enormous black stones seemed to meld together, creating one sheer, imposing façade with nary a foothold in it. Bleak, jagged rocks lined the shore at the base of the wall; if any ship tried to attack, they would founder on the rocks long before its sailors could even attempt the perilous climb into the fort. The crew of the Pearl couldn’t see a single break anywhere in the wall. Suvarnadurg was the definition of “impregnable.”

  “How do we get in?” Billy asked nervously. “What if Sri Sumbhajee is just luring us to our deaths upon these rocks?”

  “There are much easier ways to kill us,” Jack said, not very reassuringly. “Besides, he wants this, doesn’t he?” He hefted the ruby again,
looking thoughtful. “A pity to part with it.”

  “Jack, no,” Carolina said. “I know you’re plotting how to steal it away again, but don’t do it! We need Sri Sumbhajee on our side for the battle with the Shadow Lord.”

  “On the contrary, he needs us on his side,” Jack said flippantly. From the way his eyes were fixed on the ruby, Diego had a feeling Carolina’s advice might be falling on deaf ears.

  Marcella popped up behind Diego, too suddenly for him to escape. She clutched his arm dramatically. “Look!” she cried, pointing at the island. “What are they doing?”

  Just ahead of them, pirates had appeared at the top of the stone walls on a stretch of the island and were flinging ropes over the edge. With lightning speed, several of them swarmed down to the ground. Diego saw them uncover long ropes from inside the foliage and under the rocks clustered at the base of the wall. The ropes seemed to lead out to sea. Gripping the ropes in their hands like they were in a tug-of-war, with half the pirates pulling one rope and half pulling another, they heaved and yanked and tugged with all their strength.

  Carolina gasped. “San Cristobal ! The rocks are moving!”

  Indeed, the jagged points of rock that stuck out of the sea right in front of them, blocking the way to the fort, were suddenly bumping and sliding off in either direction.

  “The rocks are tied to the ropes,” Diego said in awe. “They’re not real—it’s an illusion.”

  “They’re probably real everywhere else but here,” Jean pointed out. “I wonder what these are made of.”

  “It’s the perfect disguise,” Carolina marveled. “No one would sail close enough to notice a gap in the wall here, because they’d be too afraid of smashing on the rocks.”

  “Sneaky pirates,” said Marcella, without easing her death grip on Diego’s arm.

  The Indian pirates dragged the line of fake rocks up onto the real rocks and caught them carefully. Suddenly the way forward was clear.

  The Otter sailed into the gap as a false curtain of moss slid up on the fortress wall, revealing a dark, watery passageway leading into the island. Up above, the pirates that had raised the moss waved to the Black Pearl.