Legend of the Gypsy Queen Skull: The Devil's Triangle - Book 1

by otis duane

“Oh dear…” Zelia said in a sinking tone, when she realized the branch was flying them straight up into the dense cloud. Climbing up through it, she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face as Muenster howled with his displeasure behind her.

  Finally forging through it, they crested over the top of the waterfall as Zelia flipped her wet hair back and turned around.

  “You okay?”

  Soaking wet, Muenster looked up to her with his ears pulled back as his tail swished back and forth.

  Unacceptable, he thought in his cat’s mind.

  None-too-happy, he shook and wiggled to expel the unwanted water from his coat and quickly began to power groom his fur.

  ~*~

  As the flight wore on, and the further north they headed, the more sense the journey began to make to Zelia.

  We must be heading to the home of the gods, Mt. Olympus.

  It was said to be the heavenly place built by Zeus, the father of all gods, and was home to not only him but to a dozen other earthly gods. It was believed that no other human had ever visited it, much less seen it, as the mountain’s peak had always been hidden in the clouds.

  For the gods who had once dominated ancient Greek life, they had all but fallen out of favor with the last few generations. Nowadays their temples were abandoned and people rarely paid homage to them anymore. Mankind had grown tired of their pettiness and their meddlings in human affairs.

  ~*~

  Cresting over one last ridgeline, Zelia let out a gasp of nervous excitement and said under her breath, “Mt. Olympus.”

  Panning her eyes up the mythical mountain she noticed a cloud bank was obscuring the peak’s summit. Turning around, she asked Muenster, “Is this where you came from?” but he simply replied with a meow, and began to purr. He was taking it all in stride, sitting with his ears perked up and his paws curled up underneath him.

  ~*~

  Minutes later, ascending ever higher up into the dense cloud bank she cupped her hands together and blew warm air into them and looked around. She couldn’t see a thing with the visibility having now degraded down to only a few feet.

  I hope he knows where we’re going, she thought rubbing her rosy cheeks, working the feeling back into them, when suddenly they broke through and came face-to-face with an enormous white-columned Greek structure.

  “Temple of the Gods,” she mumbled to herself.

  ~*~

  The temple was the epitome of classical Greek architecture with its rows of tall marbled columns; each supporting a section of the gold-leafed roof pediment, which was filled with various godly sculptures. Encircling the roofline was an endless series of crafted gold inlaid friezes. Most interesting of all, the closer they came to the temple the more radiant it seemed to glow.

  Entering into it, even the angelic music score playing throughout the cavernous temple was enchantingly tranquil. Its harmonious melody was so warm and rich it seemed to soothe her very soul.

  There was no doubt in her mind now, this truly was a temple built for the gods.

  But where were they?

  The sanctuary appeared to be vacant.

  Flying deeper into the heart of the temple, they entered into an open-air courtyard and came to a stop. Panning around, Zelia’s mouth dropped wide open. The grounds were rich with lush green grass and perfectly manicured shrubs, while wispy vines hung down from the many trees and lazily swayed in the crisp breeze. All around were numerous marble statues of gods and goddesses in various states of pose.

  One was of the muscle bound Hercules wielding a broadsword high over his head. While another was of Athena, wearing an ornate battle helmet, stoically standing watch over the grounds with a spear in one hand and a shield in the other.

  In the middle of the courtyard was a placid pool of water filled with colorful Koi fish. Beside it, a man stood wearing a white tunic. He was tossing some sort of feed into the water as she and Muenster walked over to him.

  “Hello, Zelia. Thank you for coming,” he said, before turning around to face her.

  Just then the black cat charged at him and leapt into the air.

  “No Muenster!” Zelia said stepping forward, reaching her hand out, trying to intervene.

  Transforming into a crow, fluttering his wings, he hovered in midair until he landed on the man’s extended arm. Squawking aloud, the stranger scratched him on the back of his feathery neck.

  “It’s good to see you too, old friend.”

  “Oh, I see,” Zelia said, relaxing, taking a step back.

  As a witch, who’d worked with the supernatural on a daily basis, even she was taken back by him and the temple.

  In her mind, there was no doubt he was indeed a god, but the question was, which one?

  Chapter 8 - Heinz's Plan

  Present Day ~ Third Week of July ~ Bismarck’s Home ~ Alexandria, VA

  Later that afternoon Heinz popped his head into Tinnie’s room upstairs. Looking around, on her bed he saw a perfectly aligned row of her recently rolled socks. Next to them, her black cat was fast asleep on his back with all four paws pointing up into the air. Unaware of her brother’s nosy presence, Tinnie was intensely practicing with her nunchucks while she watched herself in the full length mirror.

  Her long black ponytail swished back and forth as she flung the pair of chain-linked wooden handles around her waist and then over her shoulders. She was wearing her killer bee yellow tracksuit with thick black racing stripes running down the sides of it. It was similar to the one Bruce Lee wore in his movies.

  Finishing up, she spun around and snapped a roundhouse kick into the face of her imaginary foe and shouted, “Keeeey-Aye!”

  “Can I come in?” Heinz asked, barging into her room.

  “What do you want, nerd?” she said in an annoyed tone, reverently bowing to her mirror.

  “Use your headset?”

  “No way.”

  “Come on,” he pressed.

  “I said no,” she replied, not even bothering to look at him.

  “Seriously, come on.”

  Biting her lip, she took three quick steps toward him, and used her foot to push-shove him out of the room. Slamming the door behind him, she said in a muffled voice, “Beat it!”

  Gathering his balance, Heinz stood up, pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose and walked away with a smile.

  Lifting up his T-shirt, he pulled out her phone from his waistband and punched in 0609 to unlock it.

  “Like candy from a baby,” he said proudly to himself.

  He’d guessed her security code was the same as the date she’d found Muenster.

  Too predictable, he smirked, shaking his head.

  Heinz knew if he annoyed his sister enough, she wouldn’t even give him the courtesy of looking at him. This gave him the time to slip his hand into her backpack, which was hanging on the back of her door, and swipe her phone. He’d slip it back into her room later, but for now he needed it for his upcoming surveillance mission.

  ~*~

  His next stop was the driveway, where Manny was shooting some hoops.

  “’Sup, boss man?” Heinz said to him as his older brother drove toward the basket, stopped, and smoothly sunk a 12-foot jump shot.

  “Nothing,” Manny replied running under the basket to retrieve the ball. Pivoting, he fired it over to Heinz, who casually stepped out of its flight trajectory, allowing it to noisily crash into the steel trashcans behind him. Covering his head, Manny ducked some as they continued to clang about on the ground.

  “Nice,” Heinz said sarcastically, slowly nodding his head.

  Manny shuffled over to the cans, righted them up and began picking up all of the spilled garbage as his younger brother looked on with a certain amount of amusement. Walking over to Manny, he picked up the basketball, and handed it to him.

  “So what’s up with the Bahamas?” Heinz asked him.

  “Dunno, but mom was pissed. Did you see the look on her face?”

  “Yeah, I think dad is
up to another one of his big schemes.”

  Heinz was referring to the events of a couple of years ago, when Paul took them to Washington State for a big surprise that turned out to be a Bigfoot expedition.

  “The Surprise of the Century,” Heinz laughed.

  “I still can’t believe he dragged us across the country to meet a Bigfoot hunter,” Manny added.

  “Not just a Bigfoot hunter, but a Bigfoot hunter from Craigslist,” Heinz added with an amused smile.

  In the wee hours of the night, Paul had in fact driven them to a forested rendezvous point near Mount Rainier in Washington. They were there to meet a man who claimed to have the body of a deceased Sasquatch that he wanted to sell.

  “Remember how giddy Dad was when we rolled up on that creeper’s van?” Manny continued, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “You mean the serial killer van,” Heinz humorously corrected him.

  “What was his name again?” Manny asked snapping his finger.

  Heinz pretended to spit tobacco on the ground and firmly shook Manny’s hand. “Jim Randle. Bonafide Sasquatch hunter,” he said as Manny busted up laughing.

  “How big did dad’s eyes get as he hung on that guy’s every word?”

  “And his story about how he tracked it down by its footprints and droppings,” Heinz added.

  “And discovered the secret Sasquatch burial cave,” Manny chimed in.

  “Where all Sasquatches go to die,” Heinz said with a giggle.

  “Dude, the best part was when Jim told us how he’d knelt down beside the Bigfoot, held its paw, and comforted it as it lay dying,” Manny said.

  “And bid it farewell, in Sasquatch talk. A series of chirps and whistles!” Heinz blurted out as his eyes teared up from all the laughing.

  The brothers continued busting each other up recounting the other details of their ill-fated trip and finally bumped fists.

  As it turned out, the Craigslist Squatcher claims were nothing but a hoax. And his dead Sasquatch body was really his drunken brother-in-law, whom he’d dressed up in a cheap gorilla suit after he passed out.

  “Dad means well. He’s just kinda impulsive with an overactive imagination is all,” Manny said in his defense.

  “Maybe so, but his overactive imagination usually translates into toil and misery for us. Remember the Lost Dutchman Mine fiasco?” Heinz said as Manny looked straight on at him. “Or how about panning for gold in the sewers of Boston over spring break? All because he read hot tip in a Reddit thread.”

  “Man, that totally sucked… What do you have in mind, anyway?”

  “He’s up to something. I just need to figure out what it is... Can I borrow your phone and headset?”

  “That’s cool but where’s yours?”

  “Tinnie stomped on my phone and flushed it, when she found out I’d hacked her calls.”

  “You hack mine too?”

  “Yeah, but your calls were kind of boring, so I quit listening in.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Sorry, you were like listening to paint dry.”

  “Should I even ask what you’re going to use them for?”

  “Probably not … I’ll get them back to you later.”

  “I think I left them in my gym bag,” Manny said.

  “You did, but I already snagged ’em,” Heinz replied with a grin on his face.

  “Thanks,” Manny said sarcastically. “Think fast!” he said hopping to his feet, firing another pass over to his brother. But once again Heinz simply stepped out of the way and let the ball fly by him and bounce on down the street.

  “Seriously?” Manny said. Taking off after the ball, he ran behind Heinz and laughed as he playfully smacked his little brother on the back of his neck.

  Chapter 9 - The Last Barbary Pirates

  Summer, 1689 ~ Pirate Ship ~ Barbary Coast Waters

  The final pirate ship was making a run for the Port of Algiers with the Lexington in hot pursuit. Darcy and his men were about a quarter-mile behind the corsairs when they started noticing bales of hemp and barrels of ale bobbing up and down in the water. Captain Gliv was lightening their load to gain some much-needed speed to outrun the royal warship.

  With quill in hand, Captain Darcy duly charted the contraband’s nautical coordinates on his map. In time they’d return to retrieve the discarded spoils and divvy them amongst his crew. True leadership, he believed, sometimes meant bending the rules to reward one’s crew for their service. Even Darcy, a sworn rum drinker if ever there was one, had been known to indulge in an occasional hemp-infused cigar.

  ~*~

  As the Lexington closed in, things suddenly became deadly serious on the pirate ship.

  Grabbing a slave by his neck, Captain Gliv snarled into his ear.

  “Let’s see if His Majesty’s navy pities your soul,” and tossed him overboard. Turning to his fellow cutthroats he growled, “Throw the lot of ’em into the sea!”

  One of the slaves, who was still shackled in chains, dropped to his knees, clasped his hands together, and sobbingly pleaded.

  “Please master, I beg thee, spare my wretched soul.”

  But Gliv sneered and backhanded him with his meaty paw, knocking him down to the deck.

  “Throw this chum to the sharks.”

  His henchmen quickly seized ahold the slave and dragged him kicking and screaming to the railing where they tossed him overboard. His cries were only silenced when he plunged into the waves, never to resurface.

  “Unchain, the others,” Gliv added. “Maybe they’ll slow ‘em down.”

  Moments later, the pirates tossed more of their captives overboard but at least this time they were able to tread water.

  ~*~

  Gliv’s cruelty made Captain Darcy’s blood boil as he watched the slaves drift by the Lexington, shrieking out for help. But the veteran sea captain knew better than to take the bait. During battle, momentum was everything, and now wasn’t the time to flinch. Any delay would surely allow the pirates to slip away.

  Even more worrisome was their proximity to Algiers. Should Gliv and his pirates manage to escape, they would surely rally a fleet of Barbary Coast pirate ships to mount a counterattack. The royal convoy would have a day’s jump on them but they’d never make it to a safe port in time. The only option was to deal with this last corsair boat now, but the sun was already beginning to dip below the horizon.

  ~*~

  “See to it they throw any nonessentials overboard. We’ve gotta lighten her up,” Darcy said to his lieutenant. “We’ve maybe 40 minutes of daylight left to catch ’em, then our goose is cooked, aye.”

  “Aye,” Fairfield replied and hurried off.

  Turning to his detail on the main deck, the captain shouted out.

  “Cut loose all the lifeboats!”

  If they didn’t catch Gliv and his thugs, the rowboats wouldn’t do them any good anyway. Once the Barbary pirate fleet had caught up with them, they’d blow every vessel they had out of the water. At least now the slaves in the water could use them.

  ~*~

  Fifteen minutes later, the Lexington was now only feet away from the rear of the pirate ship, but the real task was yet to be had. They still had to capture the pirate flagship and Gliv’s crew wasn’t going down without a fight. Also, the other royal convoy ships were still dealing with their own corsair vessels and wouldn’t be able to assist them. Darcy and his men would be on their own in this fight.

  Drawing his two flintlock pistols from his waistband, Captain Darcy double checked them, ensuring they were loaded. This mission had become personal, and he had murder in his eyes. These dogs were going to pay dearly for what they had done, beginning with their brutish captain.

  ~*~

  As the Lexington pulled up alongside the pirate ship, Captain Gliv could hear their oars crackling and snapping into two.

  Thrusting his fist into the air, he made the first move.

  “Give ’em hell, boys! FIRE!” he ordered and instantly his ship�
��s cannons roared to life, ripping into the Lexington with stunning ferocity.

  Everywhere on the English warship, decks and railings were exploding apart as burning debris rained down on her crew.

  Soon, a thick cloud of spent gunpowder, the true fog of war, began to linger over the decks of both ships.

  Although he would have preferred to sink Gliv’s ship, Darcy had ordered the Lexington’s cannons to remain silent. He didn’t want to endanger the remaining innocents held captive aboard the slave ship.

  ~*~

  With chaos reigning all around him, Seaman Jansen crawled behind a cannon’s mount, seeking cover, when a nearby explosion propelled him out from his hiding place.

  “Ahhhh!” he screamed as a sharp stabbing pain shot up his leg. Grimacing, he looked down to see a sharpened piece of timber sticking straight through his calf muscle. Reaching for the wooden shard, he tried futilely to remove it but only managed to amplify his pain.

  With the color in his face quickly leaving him, senior crewman, Joshua Burnham, seized ahold of his wrist.

  “Leave it be sonny. Otherwise, you’ll bleed to death.”

  “Now, hold still,” Joshua added and broke off the protruding ends of the shard from either side of his calf as Jansen gritted his teeth.

  Tearing off one of the boy’s sleeves, Joshua used it to bandage his leg.

  Finishing up his handiwork, he slapped the greenhorn on his shoulder and said, “Get ready sonny. We’re going over the railing lickety split.”

  The speechless seaman’s jaw nearly hit the deck.

  Fight? I can’t even walk!

  ~*~

  With the intense barrage of fire coming from the slave ship the Lexington’s casualties began to mount.

  “Keep firing!” Gliv screamed out, handing another cannonball to one of his gunners.

  With the Lexington’s boarding party pinned down behind their own hull wall, Darcy had to do something, and quickly. Otherwise, the corsairs would get away, as the setting sun dipped further below the horizon.

  Jumping down off of the bridge deck, to the main deck below, Captain Darcy sprinted across to their position. Diving below the railing, he pressed his back up against the hull wall and turned to Joshua.