“Lame?” Gilliam growled.
“Especially for a pirate. I would expect something scary, tough . . . maybe a snake or a spider, even a scorpion. But a dolphin? That’s so tween!”
“I’ll have yez know,” said a furious Gilliam, “that a dolphin’s the fiercest, meanest creature in the ocean! I been told! A dolphin’ll tear a man’s flesh from his bones in seconds!”
“You idiot! You’re confusing a dolphin with a shark,” said Brendan.
Eleanor whispered angrily, “Bren! Stop arguing! It’s not helping!”
“I am not confusing anything! Dolphins are man-eaters! Killers! Predators!” screamed Gilliam. But all the other pirates were now looking at one another and mumbling and raising their eyebrows.
“What are yez lookin’ at?” Gilliam demanded. One of the pirates cleared his throat. “We’ve been meanin’ to tell ya, Gilliam.”
“What, Scurve?”
“Dolphins are sweet, good-natured, intelligent-like creatures. It was a trick Kit and Phenny played on you, to give you that instead of a shark—”
Gilliam interrupted Scurve’s explanation by punching him in the nose. Scurve kicked Gilliam’s torso—and in a moment the two were in a heated, clumsy fistfight.
On the other side of the door, Brendan grinned in triumph. “See? All part of the plan.”
“That wasn’t a plan!” Cordelia said. “Help us find another way out!”
Brendan started swimming with his sisters, looking for a back door to the wine cellar—but they all stopped when they heard the familiar, booming voice of Captain Sangray. “What’s going on? What’s all this fighting?”
“Scurve called my tattoo a trick, Cap’n!” said Gilliam.
“It was a trick, you mindless gnat. I’ve half a mind to maroon you for falling for such an idiotic prank! We want to strike fear into the hearts of our enemies—that tattoo makes us look ridiculous!”
“Oh,” said a dejected Gilliam. “I understand, Cap’n. I’ll have it changed into a proper shark—”
“You may not need to. Perhaps I’ll simply remove it for you.” The Walkers heard the shink of a knife being drawn. “But now’s not the time! Here I am wading through a hallway like a lungfish to find men of the Moray fighting with one another and wasting gunshots on a magic door! Did I not tell you this house was enchanted?”
“Well . . . but . . . what do yez like us to do, Cap’n?” asked Gilliam. “The ankle biters are in there!”
“Then we shall blow the door with black powder,” Captain Sangray said.
The pirates murmured in agreement, except Gilliam. “But howzat gonna work, Cap’n? If’n it’s a magic door?”
“Nothing can resist black powder!” snapped the captain. “Fetch it, before I decide to take off your tattoo right now!”
Gilliam and a few other pirates splashed away on the far side of the door as the Walkers gathered by the wine rack.
“What is black powder?” Cordelia asked.
“Gunpowder,” said Brendan. “Like a whole barrelful.”
“But that won’t break the door, right?”
Brendan didn’t answer.
“Right?”
“I have no idea,” Brendan said, taking off his shirt and tying it around his head to stop the bleeding, “but it’d probably be better if we weren’t here to find out.”
“Little whelplings! I can hear you in there!” Captain Sangray called. “So far your floating wreck has provided little of interest for me and my men, so I do hope you’re guarding something of value!” His high-pitched laughter pealed against the door, making them wince.
“Hey, Captain!” said Brendan. “Your laugh’s even more girly than Gilliam’s tattoo!”
“Girly?” asked the captain.
“Yeah,” said Brendan. “You and Dolphin Boy should open up a nail salon!”
“Brendan,” whispered Cordelia. “Enough.”
“Son,” asked a furious Captain Sangray, “are you familiar with the practice of live human vivisection?”
“No . . . ”
“Oh no!” Eleanor said. “Bren, this is what I was talking about. He’s—”
“When I get through this door, I am going to take you apart piece by piece. I am going to use a saw for your bones. And I am going to take hours, days, just so I can hear your ‘girly’ screams of agony.”
“At least if he’s threatening us, he’s not doing any of that stuff to Will and Penelope,” Eleanor said.
“What if he already killed them?” asked a worried Cordelia. “We have to find another way out of here!”
“Here!” said Eleanor, swimming behind the wine rack.
Brendan and Cordelia joined her, but all they saw were three brick walls covered in faded tapestries illustrating scenes of ancient wine making. One had half-naked, buxom women smashing grapes with bare feet; one had men in elaborate costumes gulping wine from wooden barrels. . . .
“Where is the exit, exactly?” Brendan asked.
“I don’t know exactly, but it’s here,” said Nell. “It’s gotta be. Press against walls and stuff. Or maybe it’s under one of the rugs.”
The bottoms of the tapestries trailed in the salt water, so it was easy to pull them aside and look under them. There was nothing there.
“Hurry now, before the water gets too high,” said Captain Sangray. The Walkers heard the pirates push something against the door outside. Something wooden. Something big.
“They’re about to blow the door!” yelled Cordelia. Sure enough, splashes echoed down the hall as the pirates retreated from the wine cellar, leaving the hiss of a burning fuse.
“We’re goners!” said Brendan. “What do we do?”
Wait, Eleanor thought. That’s what we do. Don’t freak out. Wait. Think.
Eleanor knew that the idea she had must be right. There was something missing, though. The hiss of the fuse got louder in her head as she looked up and saw a small track against one of the walls, mounted in the brick, like the tracks in the Kristoff library that the ladders went on. It ran from the wine rack to a tapestry with a huge drooping grapevine. . . .
Eleanor grabbed the tapestry and yanked it down.
At water level, where she was, there was nothing. But three feet up, above where the track ran? There was a tiny metal door.
The dumbwaiter.
“Guys! Look! I knew it was here! This is where Kristoff must have passed his bottles up to the kitchen! There was a ladder, see, but now it’s gone—”
“No time, Nell! Great work!” Brendan leaped out of the water and hit the dumbwaiter door with the side of his fist. It swung open and fell into the water, damaged from Kristoff House’s many adventures. Brendan hooked his fingers on the brick below it and pulled himself into the shaft.
The dumbwaiter box lay crumpled at the bottom. Above Brendan the shaft went straight up, like a chimney, with light shining down. It was going to be a tight fit, but he could do it. Cordelia was next, grabbing Brendan’s hand. He pulled her into the dumbwaiter shaft. It was too close for comfort—as in her face was pressed against his bloody head—so she climbed over him, pressing her hands against the shaft like Spider-Man. Brendan knelt down to grab Nell.
She leaped out of the water, reached up—and just missed his hand. She splashed back down.
“Try again!” Brendan yelled.
Eleanor’s breath came in fast, panicked gasps. She was alone now, the only one treading water in the room. It was terrible to think that the door would blow open and Captain Sangray would get her—but it was even worse to think that she would lose Bren and Deal. I can’t. I won’t.
Eleanor jumped again, held Brendan’s hand for a moment . . . then slipped and splashed back in the water.
“Come on, Nell! I’m not letting my sister get vivisected!”
Eleanor pumped the fear from her stomach into her legs as she propelled herself out of the water—
And this time Brendan grabbed her wrists. And held. Eleanor screamed in triumph, her fe
et still dangling—but it became a different kind of scream as a deafening blast rocked the wine cellar and a spray of burning ash exploded onto her legs.
Eleanor was convinced that her legs had been burned to flaky ashes like the inside of her dad’s Weber grill. She’d be forced to spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair! But then she remembered: There aren’t any wheelchairs in Kristoff House! You’re going straight to Captain Sangray’s to get vivified!
Before Eleanor could imagine the scenario in more detail, a wave of water rushed into the dumbwaiter shaft, propelled by the blast outside the metal door. Eleanor sputtered and spat, touching her calves . . . and the ash was gone.
“Are you okay?” Brendan asked.
“Yes!” She had tiny red splotches on her skin, and it felt like she’d been playing too close to a campfire, but she didn’t need a wheelchair.
“Then climb!” ordered Brendan. “Will and Penelope, here we come!”
Eleanor winced and clambered over Brendan’s shoulders. As she wormed her way up the shaft, the pirates swarmed into the room.
“Eh, then! What’s this, a room full o’ wine?”
“We’ve gone to heaven, mate!”
“Who’s got the corkscrew, then?”
“Who needs one? Just bite the top off!”
“This is pinot noir! I’ll not be ruinin’ it with little bits and bobs of glass particles! No, we need a proper corkscrew!”
“I’m chewin’ off the top! Now leggo—ow!”
Brendan paused in his climb and smiled as the pirates degenerated into wine-crazed beasts, fighting and splashing and cursing.
“Look here, what’s this, then? 1899?” asked the pirate named Scurve. “This is grog wot’s from the future!”
“Yez be lyin’!” said dolphin-faced Gilliam. “It says nothing o’ the sort!”
“How would you know, Gilliam? You can’t read!”
“Quiet, all of you!” ordered Captain Sangray. The wine cellar went completely silent. Brendan froze inside the dumbwaiter shaft. “Scurve is right! These vintages are labeled with dates that haven’t happened yet! What’d I tell you about witchcraft? This entire house is cursed! You aren’t to open a single bottle, understand?”
The pirates looked at one another, waiting for someone to respond. Gilliam did.
“But Cap’n Sangray, begging your pardon, yez told us we could take any provisions we found on this vessel.”
“Did I? Gilliam, your memory is so astute! Can you remember anything else I told you today?”
Brendan grimaced. He could hear the menace in Captain Sangray’s voice, but apparently Gilliam couldn’t.
“Yez said to shoot the ankle biters to wound, Cap’n. . . .”
“That’s right . . . anything else? Do you recall anything about a dolphin tattoo?”
“Oh! Right! I’s to have it covered up . . . no, wait, yez are gonna remove it . . . wait, Cap’n! No! Not now, oh no, at least let me drink some wi-iiiiiii—”
Brendan climbed the shaft as fast as he could while Gilliam’s voice became a high-pitched scream. The only thing higher was Captain Sangray’s hysterical laughter.
“Move, guys!” Brendan hissed when he ran into his sisters. “Sangray’s doing something horrible down there!”
Cordelia and Eleanor were perched at the entrance to the upstairs hall. “We can’t,” whispered Cordelia. “Stump!”
Brendan saw the diminutive pirate guarding the hall. “So? He’s like four and a half feet tall! We can take him!”
“No way. He’s got a gun. He’s cleaning it.”
“That’s perfect! Now’s the time!”
Brendan shoved his head into Eleanor’s backside, which really hurt his injured ear. Eleanor yelped and pushed Cordelia, who tumbled out of the dumbwaiter shaft into the hall.
“Ankle biter!” yelled Stump.
He fired at Cordelia, who leaped to the side. The bullet streaked into the dumbwaiter shaft, burying itself in the bricks above Eleanor, raining down dust. Brendan had to hold his breath, bite his tongue, use every bit of his inner strength to keep from sneezing.
“Cap’n Sangray! I got one of ’em!” Stump called. He pointed another gun at Cordelia’s head. She backed against the wall and raised her hands.
“Where are your friends, missy?”
“Behind you,” Cordelia said. She wasn’t kidding: Eleanor was creeping out of the shaft right behind Stump.
“You think I’m gonna fall for that?”
“You’re right,” said Cordelia. “How silly of me.”
Eleanor eased herself to the floor. She was looking for a weapon—but the only thing she saw was a souvenir paperweight from her father’s hospital. It was a black hexagonal lump about half the size of a Coke can. Eleanor reached for it as Cordelia kept Stump distracted. “In fact, I bet you never fell for a stupid trick like that in your entire pirate career. Obviously you’re very intelligent. . . .”
Stump scrunched his eyebrows. He’d been called many things in his life, but intelligent wasn’t one of them. Suddenly he didn’t trust Cordelia. He turned his head slightly—and saw Eleanor!
Cordelia screamed. Eleanor slid the paperweight across the floor between Stump’s legs. Stump fired at Eleanor, but the shot went high, cleaving her hair. Cordelia grabbed the paperweight and raised it above her head. Stump cursed and drew his cutlass to finish off Eleanor—
And his chin shot up as Cordelia struck the top of his skull.
Stump crumpled to the floor. Cordelia dropped the paperweight. Eleanor caught her breath. Brendan climbed out of the dumbwaiter shaft.
“Are you okay? Do you need help? Oh.”
“You’re a little late,” said Cordelia.
“Wow, you did awesome! I mean, girl power, right?”
“Shut up, Bren!” Cordelia shoved him. “You almost got us killed!”
“I’m sorry,” Brendan said, “but I knew you’d handle yourselves.”
“Should we keep his gun?” Eleanor asked, nodding to one of Stump’s pistols. The pirate was out cold.
“Wouldn’t be much use,” said Brendan. “I saw this Discovery Channel thing about pirates. The guns they used were single-shot flintlocks. You have to reload them between each shot, and they mess up if there’s moisture in the air. That’s why they carry so many.”
“What about his sword?” Eleanor asked.
“That we can use to help Will and Penelope,” Brendan said. “We’re going to need something to save them from the pirate ship.” He reached for the cutlass—but Stump’s body started to stir.
The Walkers took off down the hall. By the time Stump groggily got to his feet, they were in the attic, staring out the window, trying to figure out how to get to the Moray.
The mighty ship was towing Kristoff House with huge ropes. The ropes were attached to the house’s roof on one side and the ship’s stern on the other. At the stern, the Walkers saw the Moray’s rear cabin, with stained-glass windows featuring goats and howling men.
“Sangray must be taking us somewhere horrible,” Eleanor said.
“Not if we rescue Will and get him back his Webley,” said Brendan. “He could take out these pirates no problem.” Brendan sounded confident, but his face quickly went from hopeful to terrified as he heard the pirates themselves downstairs.
They were charging toward the attic. “Shoot to disfigure!”
“That was Captain Sangray,” Eleanor said. “We can’t let him get us!”
“What are we going to do, go back in the water?” Brendan asked.
“Maybe we don’t have to,” said Cordelia. She stepped onto the windowsill as the pirates’ rough hands appeared around the hole in the attic floor.
“This way!” “Aye!” “Arrrgh!”
Cordelia grabbed the molding that ran above the window. She pressed her feet against the inside of the frame, swung her legs over the top, and pulled herself onto the shingled roof. She didn’t make it look easy, exactly, but even she was impressed at what adrenalin
e could make you do.
“How do you expect me to—” Eleanor started, but Brendan grabbed her and leaned out the window while holding her. Cordelia took her wrists and pulled her up. Then Brendan hoisted himself onto the roof, his butt disappearing over the top of the window just as the pirates fanned out across the attic.
“Where’d they go?”
“Out the window, Cap’n!”
The Walkers scrambled to the peak of the roof, squinting in the punishing sun, their feet slipping and sliding on the shingles. They were desperate for a place to hide, trying to stay low so none of the pirates on the Moray could spot them. Cordelia noticed a large, six-sided cone of shingles at the corner of Kristoff House. It was the ornamental peak that crowned the bay window in the upstairs hall.
“We can hide behind that.”
“What?” Brendan asked. “There’s nowhere to stand! We’ll fall—”
“Ringrose, pull me up!” called a pirate below them, and Brendan reconsidered. He and his siblings slid down the roof, stopped themselves on the gutter that hung over the sparkling waves, and shuffled their feet sideways to edge to the cone of shingles.
They pressed their backs against three of its six sections and held on as the wind tugged their clothes. Brendan’s bloody shirt, still wrapped around his head as a bandage, whipped into Cordelia’s face.
“Bren! Would you control that thing?”
“I’m trying not to fall in the ocean—”
“Hold on,” Cordelia said, “I have an idea.” She ripped the shirt off Brendan and let the wind sling it out to sea.
“I need that!”
“No you don’t! You stopped bleeding!”
“Why’d you throw it in the water—?”
“I’ve got a plan. When the—” began Cordelia.
“Shhhh!” hissed Eleanor. “Pirates!”
The pirates had reached the top of the roof. Brendan peeked. He first saw Tranquebar, the pirate with the eye patch who had spotted him before. Tranquebar was old, with a pockmarked face. Next to him, casting a long shadow, was a man who had to be Captain Sangray.
House of Secrets Page 18