The Turning Tide

by Rob Kidd

  “Getting a little perspective,” Jack said. “That and waiting for the guards to stop looking for me.”

  “I think they have,” Diego said. “I heard a couple of them on the way out here.”

  “Given up already?” Jack said, sounding aggrieved. “Well, that’s not very sporting of them.”

  Carolina wiggled out of the tight space and climbed back onto the statue’s knees. Balancing her bare feet lightly on the folds of its robe, she clambered up to its arm and then scooted up to Jack. Nervously, Diego climbed up behind her. It looked like a very long way down from the top.

  Jack was fiddling with his knife. The statue’s face was serene and blank.

  Something glittered from the center of the statue’s forehead.

  “Jack!” Carolina cried. “Are you trying to steal that ruby again?”

  “No, no!” Jack protested. “Much better—I am waiting for it to fall into my pocket again. Could happen any minute. You never know.”

  “I knew it!” Carolina cried. “You’re going to steal back that ruby!”

  Diego realized she was right. The large jewel that formed one of the statue’s eyes was the same gem Jack had just returned to Sri Sumbhajee. The Indian Pirate Lord had already returned the ruby to its original home.

  “Am not!” Jack protested.

  “Are, too!”

  “Am not!”

  “Are, too!”

  “I just happen to be sitting here,” Jack said. “I am merely taking a short rest that happens to be in close proximity to the ruby in question. Is that such a crime?”

  “No,” Carolina said, “but—”

  “And if that same ruby should happen to fall into my pocket again, would that be such a crime, either?”

  “Yes!” Carolina said. “Don’t make Sri Sumbhajee mad at us! We need him to believe us that the East India Trading Company is coming. We have to get out of here as soon as we can.”

  “Absolutely,” Jack said. “First thing tomorrow morning.”

  “No, right now!” Carolina said. “We have no idea when they’ll get here!”

  “Ah, ah, ah,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Nobody wakes Sri Sumbhajee once he’s asleep.”

  “I heard the same thing,” Diego admitted.

  “What about for emergencies?” Carolina cried. “Emergencies, like, say, your archnemesis finding out all your secrets and coming to kill you possibly within minutes? Wouldn’t he want to be woken up for that?”

  “Certainly not,” Jack said. “Even pirates need their rest, love.”

  “It’s all right, Carolina,” Diego said, touching her shoulder. “I doubt they’ll be here before morning. If there’s to be a fight, we’ll be more ready for it after a good night’s sleep.”

  “Fine,” Carolina said. She slid down glancing back at her crewmates. “But if we’re captured, I am not going back to Spain or San Augustin. I would rather die.”

  She jumped down, landing amid the marigolds at her feet, and vanished out the door before Diego could get to her.

  “Come on, Jack,” Diego said. “Back to our quarters.”

  “You go on ahead,” Jack said, squinting up at the roof and trying to look casual. “I’ll be along in a minute.”

  “No, Jack,” Diego said. “Leave the ruby alone.”

  “I am leaving the ruby alone,” Jack said in mock outrage. “I’m not touching it, am I? It’s not my fault that its setting is a little loose.” Jack bumped the statue’s head as he spoke and then whirled around with his coat outstretched.

  The jewel stayed in place.

  Disappointed, Jack gave the head a few more “accidental” shoves. It didn’t budge, and neither did the ruby.

  “Well,” he muttered, “it used to be a little loose.”

  “Let’s go, Jack,” Diego said.

  “Captain Jack,” the pirate muttered. “Captain Jack. Why doesn’t anyone ever remember that?”

  They climbed down the statue and made their way back to their rooms, skulking along the dark corridors without encountering any guards. Once in bed, Diego tossed and turned for hours, replaying his kiss with Carolina over and over again in his mind. What did it mean? Did Carolina love him, too? What would happen next?

  In her part of the palace, Carolina couldn’t sleep, either. She stared up at the shimmering fragments of mirror embedded in the ceiling, glittering like tiny stars all around the dark room. She ran through Benedict and Barbara’s conversation a hundred times, trying to figure out their next move. Where was Barbara hiding? How had she gotten in here? And most important…when would Benedict and the East India Trading Company attack?

  Jack, on the other hand, fell asleep as soon as he returned to his quarters.

  But his sleep was neither peaceful nor dreamless. Shadows wreathed around his legs as he walked through a swirling fog, alive with shapes darting like cats in the mist. Others flew down from the sky and tried to snatch his magnificent hat, but Jack clutched it to his head and fended them off.

  “Away with you!” he proclaimed, flapping his hands at them. “Away! Leave me in peace!”

  “Ah, there you are, Captain Jack Sparrow,” a voice hissed.

  “Finally someone gets it right,” Jack said. Then he paused, looking concerned. He whirled. All around him he could see nothing but fog and shadows. “Ominous fog?” he echoed in the same whispery tone the voice had used.

  “I’m surprised to see you still alive,” said the voice.

  “Most people are,” Jack said airily. “Technically you’re not seeing me, though, are you? At least not with…eyeballs. Given that I don’t currently see any eyeballs, er, seeing me at the moment.”

  “I can see you fine,” the voice whispered.

  “But you won’t see me until it is far too late.”

  “Well, from the sounds of it, you’re not very pretty,” Jack said with an apologetic grimace, “so I think that’s a plan that works for both of us.”

  “Why aren’t you dead?” murmured the voice, as if it were talking to itself now. “I killed you myself.”

  “Also something I hear quite a lot,” Jack said. He jumped as a patch of fog suddenly whooshed toward him and then dissipated. “Turns out it’s harder than it looks to kill Captain Jack Sparrow.”

  “You have been infected with the shadow-sickness. Why hasn’t it progressed further?” Another shadow whooshed toward Jack, circled him a few times, and flashed away.

  “Oh, was that from you?” Jack said. “Thanks ever so much for that.” He was pretty sure he knew who was behind the voice now. Or at least, in the sense of knowing it was the Shadow Lord. Other than that, Jack didn’t know much about the mysterious pirate who had destroyed an entire town in Panama without leaving a trace of his army behind. Except that he seemed to hold grudges, the vials of Shadow Gold had once belonged to him, and he really didn’t like the Pirate Lords—especially Jack.

  “What is this?” The voice sounded angry. A shadow hurtled up out of the fog and twined itself around Jack’s neck. He grabbed it and tried to pull it off, but it squeezed tighter and tighter. It felt uncomfortably like a noose—and Jack had already been too close to too many nooses in his lifetime. It was one of the hazards of being a pirate.

  “You have tasted Shadow Gold!” The fury in the voice was so powerful it singed Jack’s skin. “That Shadow Gold is MINE.”

  “Well,” Jack croaked. “Your own fault, innit?

  Giving me this—aurk—shadow thingie—’course I’d try not to die.”

  “WHERE?” Fog blasted past Jack’s ears. “WHERE IS IT? WHERE IS MY GOLD?”

  “Don’t…have it,” Jack wheezed. He was getting dizzy. He tried to tell himself that it was an illusion; if the Shadow Lord could send shadows to actually choke Jack to death, he would have done that from the beginning instead of messing about with lingering illnesses. This was just a nightmare. But it still felt awfully real.

  “I will find out for myself, then,” the voice snarled. Tendrils of black smoke ro
se from the shadow around the figure’s neck and plunged into Jack’s ears. Jack could feel them poking around in his brain.

  “Stopitstopitstopitstopit!” Jack shouted. “Leave my brain out of this!”

  “Pirate Lords,” the voice fumed. “I should have known. I loathe the Pirate Lords.” The smoke withdrew abruptly, sucking back out of Jack’s ears, away from his neck, and into the fog around him. Jack dropped to his knees, gasping for breath.

  “You won’t get away with this, Jack Sparrow,” growled the Shadow Lord. “I will stop you. That Shadow Gold belongs to me.” Jack glimpsed a pair of red eyes glaring from a monstrous shape in the swirling clouds. It blinked at him once and then vanished.

  “That’s…Captain …Jack Sparrow.” Jack gasped, and then he keeled over and passed out.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Carolina was up at dawn the next morning, watching the sun rise over the peaceful gardens of the women’s quarters. She couldn’t believe that Company agents might come storming in at any minute to destroy all this. Sri Sumbhajee’s palace seemed so safe and far away from everything.

  She hadn’t forgotten about the would-be assassin, either. And since everyone else was still asleep, she decided the only thing she could do was keep trying to solve that mystery.

  A nut flew out of a nearby tree, hitting her in the head. Carolina looked up and spotted Toolajee’s face grinning mischievously down at her.

  “Good shot,” she said, rubbing where the nut had bounced off.

  “The monkey did it!” he said, pointing. Next to him on the branch, the furry animal chittered and blinked innocently.

  “You really are going to be a perfect pirate,” Carolina said.

  The boy’s mischievous grin grew a little wider. “Yeah. But only if I can get out of here. I hate living in the women’s quarters! I want to go on a ship! I want to see everything!”

  “You should ask Sri Sumbhajee to take you with him when he goes out pirating,” Carolina suggested.

  Toolajee swung his legs, looking grumpy. “He won’t take me. He thinks I’m too little.” He gave her a fierce expression. “I’m not too little! I’m bigger than any of the other seven-year-olds at court!” He yanked another nut off the tree and hurled it into the distance.

  “I’m sure you are,” Carolina said diplomatically.

  “Maybe I could come with you!” Toolajee said suddenly. “You are pirates. I mean, I know you’re not as great or fierce or powerful as Sri Sumbhajee, but at least you have a ship! I could be helpful!”

  “No doubt,” said Carolina, smiling at the innocent little boy’s pirate dreams and remembering her own. “But you wouldn’t like it on our ship. For one thing, there aren’t nearly enough sweets. And Marcella is there. She’s really hard to avoid.”

  Toolajee’s face darkened. “I could make sure we leave her behind,” he said. “My mom is really good at getting what she wants. She’d do anything to make me a Pirate Lord.”

  “Really?” Carolina said thoughtfully.

  “If you won’t take me,” Toolajee said, “maybe I’ll just hide on your ship, and then by the time you notice, it’ll be too late to bring me back!”

  “Being a stowaway is no fun,” Carolina assured him. “I’ve done it. You get SO hungry. And you wouldn’t believe how many rats there are in the hiding places on a ship. Besides, Captain Sparrow isn’t very fond of monkeys—I don’t know if your little friend would be safe.”

  Toolajee’s monkey jumped into his lap and threw his arms around the little boy’s neck.

  “We could leave Jack behind, too,” Toolajee offered. “Maybe you could be captain. Or me! I could be captain!”

  Carolina hid a smile. “I’ll think about that,” she said. “Can you tell me where the kitchens are?”

  Toolajee pointed. “But you’re not allowed in there,” he said.

  “I’m just taking a look,” Carolina explained and wandered away. She hoped she looked nonchalant; she didn’t want Toolajee following her out of curiosity.

  She could smell the kitchens before she spotted them; the cooks were obviously already up and preparing breakfast. Parvati had told her the kitchens were carefully guarded, but Carolina wasn’t expecting the high walls she found when she followed her nose. The path ended in blank red sandstone, twice as high as the other walls, with no holes in it for her to peek through. She could see smoke rising when she looked up at the sky; most of the kitchen was an open courtyard, which was why they had to keep the walls too high for anyone to climb over. Parvati had explained that poisonings were a fairly common problem in Sri Sumbhajee’s family.

  Carolina followed the wall until she found the only entrance to the kitchen. A pair of whip-thin guards stood in front of the closed wooden doors, holding long, pointed spears. Wicked-looking curved swords hung from their belts.

  Carolina tried to saunter right past the guards, but their spears clashed together in front of her.

  “You’re not allowed in here,” one of them said sternly.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “Toolajee asked me to get him some sweets. I didn’t think anyone would mind—I’ll just be in and out.” She started forward again, but the spears still blocked her way.

  “No one is allowed in,” growled the second guard.

  “And don’t try to bribe us,” said the first. “We were specially selected because we care for neither food nor money nor”—his gaze traveled over her—“anything else.”

  Carolina frowned, pulling her shawl further around her. “But what should I tell Toolajee? I would hate to make him angry.”

  “Doesn’t matter to us,” said the first guard. “He gets enough sweets from his mother anyway. That’s probably what’s wrong with him.”

  Carolina gave the second guard a pleading look, sensing that he might be a bit more sympathetic. His eyes shifted to the ground.

  “Nisha will be getting her breakfast soon,” he said gruffly. “He can get something from her.”

  “All right, thanks,” Carolina said, backing away. An idea was forming in her mind. But could she make it work? She pretended to wander off slowly, glancing back now and then. As soon as she caught both guards looking in the other direction, she ducked behind a bronze statue of a man with the head of an elephant.

  More and more birds started twittering in the trees as the sun rose and Carolina waited. Finally the kitchen doors opened, and a woman emerged carrying a tray of food. She was covered from head to toe in a long sky-blue cloak, with only a slit for her eyes. The guards nodded as she went past them.

  Carolina crouched lower as the woman passed her hiding place, and then, checking to make sure the guards were looking the other way, she hurried after her.

  Several corridors later, Carolina saw the woman stop at a carved wooden door and knock. Carolina hid around the corner and peered out, watching as the door opened a few inches and the cloaked woman slipped inside. There was no one else in the hallway. Carolina crept up to the door and pressed her ear to it, but the wood was too thick; she couldn’t hear anything.

  Suddenly the door opened and the woman came out again. Carolina didn’t have time to run; she jumped out of the way, so the person inside didn’t see her—but the woman in the cloak certainly did. Her eyes blinked rapidly at Carolina as the door closed again.

  “Sorry,” Carolina said. “Um—I was just wondering—I know this is going to sound strange—but I was wondering if I could borrow your cloak for a little—”

  “Sure,” the woman said promptly, before Carolina could even finish her sentence. She lifted it over her shoulders and shook her hair loose. “It’s awful. It weighs as much as an elephant.” She threw it at Carolina, who staggered as she caught it. It really was heavy.

  “Oh,” Carolina said, startled. She’d been sure she’d have to come up with an elaborate explanation. If it was this easy—had it happened before? “Um—”

  “I’m Sara,” said the young woman. She looked like a younger version of Jhumpa; Carolina wo
ndered if they were sisters. “I’ll let you borrow it if you give me those gold earrings.”

  Carolina touched her ears. “I would, but they’re not mine. Parvati only loaned them to me.”

  “Oh,” Sara said with a shrug. “Well, a few minutes of peace is fine, too. Are you trying to sneak into the kitchens?”

  “Um,” Carolina stammered. “I—um—”

  “Don’t worry, I don’t care,” Sara said. “The longer I can stay out of those hot, awful kitchens is fine by me. I’m trying to get promoted. If I’m lucky, she might make me her official dresser.” Sara tilted her head at Nisha’s door. “And then I’ll be handling silk saris and precious jewels all day instead of hot pans and heavy buckets of water.”

  “So you’d pretty much do anything Nisha asked?” Carolina said, slipping the cloak over her head. Such as lend her your cloak for a short visit to the kitchens? Or slip poison into someone’s food at her request? she thought.

  “No question,” Sara said. “And she’s an odd one, I warn you.”

  “Warn me?” Carolina said. It was dark and stuffy inside the cloak, and very difficult to see out through the slit in the front.

  “Well, you have to go back in there and get her tray when she’s done—unless you give the cloak back to me, and then I can do it,” Sara said. “But you can snoop around the kitchens first. You have about half an hourglass.”

  “Thank you,” Carolina said.

  “I’ll be asleep in that garden when you come back,” Sara said, heading for a patch of tall grass under a magnolia tree. “Don’t be late.”

  Carolina nodded and hurried away down the hall. She’d memorized the twists and turns that led back to the kitchens, so it didn’t take her long to get back. And this time the guards didn’t even look at her as she walked between them.

  On the other side of the door she was hit by a blast of heat. Small cooking fires were burning around the courtyard and a huge wood-burning oven blazed from one of the walls. Cooks were bustling here and there, tasting sauces and wrapping bread and chopping vegetables and turning spits of meat. Nobody even looked at Carolina.