“Take a rope!” said Brendan. They had reached the ropes that led back to Kristoff House.
Cordelia shook her head. “My arm! I could barely hold a pencil.”
“Just use one hand; I’ll help,” said Brendan. As Cordelia gripped the rope with her good arm, Brendan lifted his sister’s feet while clinging to a metal bolt on the side of the ship. Cordelia laughed as she started to move toward Kristoff House—there was no other response to the pain of struggling with one arm and two feet to climb across a rope.
Brendan waited for Eleanor next. Behind her was Will, and behind him, the skeletons were closing in.
“I can’t!” Eleanor pointed to the rope and nodded to her bandaged shoulder.
“I know,” said Brendan. He took the rope and offered Eleanor his back. “All aboard?”
Eleanor wrapped her good arm around Brendan’s neck and locked her legs around his stomach. Brendan dipped out over the sea just ahead of Will, who had to struggle against the pain in his recently operated-on shoulder to grab the rope and start moving. Seconds later, the lead skeleton, which now had a blackened skull, buried its sword into the side of the ship where Will had been standing.
Eleanor closed her eyes, clinging to Brendan like a baby koala. The two of them followed Cordelia. The rope sagged toward the waves.
“Keep moving!” Will ordered from behind. The lead skeleton was climbing onto the rope now, wrapping its bony phalanges around it. The others were watching. Learning.
Will and the Walkers reached Kristoff House without a moment to spare. They collapsed on the roof and hurriedly scrambled into the attic window. They heard the spidery sound of the lead skeleton landing outside.
“Okay,” Cordelia said, staring out the window. The water had flooded the second floor; now the attic was the only thing above sea level. “T minus fifteen seconds. What’s your plan, Bren?”
“C’mon.” Brendan pulled everyone across the attic to a far corner, then panicked. “Where’s the rollaway mattress? It was here before—”
“The pirates probably took it,” said Cordelia.
A rattle came from the window. The lead skeleton was climbing into Kristoff House, bending its bony limbs at angles that were slightly too sharp for living humans to muster.
“This way!” Cordelia said, nodding to the hole in the attic floor, under which water now filled the upstairs hallway.
“Not without the mattress!” Brendan said. “That’s the plan—”
“There!” Eleanor pointed. The mattress was perched on one of the rafter beams. “It must’ve flown up there when Fat Jagger dropped us!”
The lead skeleton was halfway across the room now, sword out. Its brethren were making their way through the window two at a time. In a flash, Brendan grabbed Will’s cutlass—“Hey, now!”—and tossed it at the mattress.
The mattress wobbled and fell off the beam, landing with a thump directly in front of the lead skeleton. The skeleton clicked its teeth angrily before walking across it, headed straight for Brendan.
Brendan leaned down, grabbed hold of the mattress, and pulled hard. The mattress zipped out from under the skeleton, causing the creature to flip in the air and slam into a pair of its bony followers. The three skeletons fell, and their limbs became hopelessly intertwined—but Brendan knew it wouldn’t be long before they were back on their feet. He dragged the mattress to the edge of the attic hole and jumped into the water below.
“Come on, guys!” he yelled, bobbing up, sputtering seawater. “Get down here! Will . . . you go last and close the hole with the mattress!”
“A mattress isn’t going to stop these knobby numskulls!”
“It won’t have to stop them for long—” Brendan started to argue, but the skeletons provided a more convincing argument by slashing at Cordelia. She jumped down next to Brendan in the flooded second-story hallway. Eleanor followed; Will came last with his cutlass, tossing his spell scrolls to the floor of the attic so they wouldn’t get wet. (He figured the skeletons couldn’t read, let alone read Latin.) He pulled the mattress over the hole above him.
“Okay, now everybody grab hold!” shouted Brendan. “Keep it in place!”
They all tore a hand into the underside of the mattress, securing it over the hole, sealing themselves off from the skeletons.
“Now what?” Eleanor asked.
For a second everything was quiet. The Walkers and Will treaded water in the hallway as their hands clasped springs in the bottom of the mattress. But they found it extremely difficult to tread water using only one arm each—and in Will, Cordelia, and Eleanor’s cases, their arms were injured anyway. As if that weren’t enough, there was only a foot of space between the water’s surface and the ceiling. And the water . . .
“The water’s rising!” said Eleanor. “How are we—”
Suddenly a sword slashed through the mattress, directly in front of Eleanor’s nose. This was followed by a spear, piercing swiftly down, just missing Will’s shoulder.
“They’re turning this thing into a pincushion!” Cordelia yelled.
And that wasn’t all: the mattress had started to move, inching to the side as the skeletons began to push it away from the hole.
“Hold steady!” Brendan said. “And watch out!”
The skeletons sent more swords, spears, and daggers plunging through the mattress. Many of the blades got stuck, trembling as the skeletons tried to pull them out again. The Walkers ducked and dodged the avalanche of weapons. . . .
And the water continued to rise.
Now it was less than six inches from the ceiling. “I can’t bloody breathe!” Will yelled. “We’re running out of air!”
“Only a few more seconds!” Brendan said. “Until the sun comes up!”
“Then what?”
A sword slashed down directly in front of Brendan’s chin, popping his zit.
“Owwwwww!” He grabbed his chin. “Then they turn into something we can kill.”
“That’s so gross on your face!” said Eleanor. “But I get it. You think the sun is going to change the skeletons back into people, like with the bat. And Penelope.”
“Exactly.”
“And who’s going to kill the blighters once they become human?” Will asked. “You?”
“Uh . . . sure,” Brendan said, dodging more weapons coming through the mattress.
“And you’re prepared to do that?” Cordelia asked.
Brendan hesitated. He wanted to be brave. “Look, not all of us get to be in a history-changing war like Will. But if I was born in a different place, in a different time, I might already be out having big-time adventures, fighting Nazis, hunting wild animals . . . being a man! So once those skeletons get turned back into normal pirates? Yeah! I’m gonna be the first one through that hole, and I’m gonna kick every one of their flabby butts! Now, are you with me or not?”
Everyone stayed quiet. Unbeknownst to them, the sun had come up.
“What?” Brendan said.
“Either the skeletons were enthralled by your rousing speech, or something else happened, because they’re not moving,” said Cordelia.
It was true: The hollow rattling sound of bones was gone from the attic. No more weapons slashed through the mattress.
“Does that mean it worked?” Eleanor asked.
“Not a moment too soon,” said Will, spitting out seawater. “My arm has just about had it. Besides, I don’t know what’s worse, the fishy taste of this water or the smell of you three.”
“Ironic,” Cordelia said. “An Englishman complaining about hygiene. Don’t you guys only bathe on Sundays?”
“And Wednesdays!” protested Will.
Brendan moved the mattress aside, reexposing the attic. “I’m going up.”
“No. I’ll go first,” said Will. “You may think you’re a killer, but I don’t believe you have the guts for it. And you haven’t a single weapon on you.”
Brendan responded by snatching the sword from Will’s hand.
&nbs
p; “Hey!”
Brendan quickly hoisted himself into the attic, the sword dripping wet between his teeth. Cordelia was worried he’d be cut down—
But Brendan said, “Come up, guys! You’re going to want to see this!”
Cordelia, Eleanor, and Will climbed back into the attic of Kristoff House. Two dozen people stood there, attempting to cover themselves, shouting in anger and confusion.
“What’s all this madness?” asked a pale fat man.
“My dress! My petticoat!” said a hysterical black-haired woman. “I’m exposed for all the world to see!”
The crowd—mostly men—appeared to hail from all over the world. Some of the gruffer ones had already picked up weapons.
“What’s goin’ on here, boy?” asked one, snarling at Brendan. He appeared to have come from a Polynesian island, complete with tattoos that had re-formed on his flesh. He held a sword in one hand and covered himself with the other.
“Y-Y-You . . . all of you have been brought back from the dead,” Brendan said.
“This don’t look like heaven!” laughed the pale fat man. He didn’t seem worried about exposing himself—a paunch hid his groin.
“People this savage and disgusting only exist on the third level of Hades!” said the black-haired woman.
“No, you’re still on earth,” said Brendan. “I mean, not earth, exactly, but—”
“Shut yer mouth!” the tattooed man warned. “This is some sort of magic trick. Last thing I remember, Captain Sangray had me chained to a table in his quarters, preparing to vivisect me—”
“That happened to me too!” said the woman.
“And me!” said the pale man. “Although I was on the floor; he said I was too big for the table—”
“I say these four are in league with Sangray. I say we cut their throats from ear to ear in exchange for Sangray’s treachery!” said the tattooed man, shaking his sword at Brendan.
“Quiet!” ordered Will. “I am Captain Will Draper! And these are my trusted mates: Cordelia, Brendan, and Eleanor.”
“Power trip, here we come,” Cordelia whispered to her brother.
“You seem a little young to be a captain,” said the pale fat man.
“Yeah, captain o’ what?” asked the tattooed one.
“Of the Kristoff, the vessel on which you stand,” said Will. He grabbed the cutlass back from Brendan and paced with it, cutting quite a figure. “Your memories do not deceive you, my friends. All of you were victims of Captain Sangray, and after your deaths you walked the earth in skeletal form. But the Kristoff is a magic ship shaped like a house, and using this attic that you stand in, which is activated by sunlight in this magical realm, we have restored your lives. We have also slain Captain Sangray. Now all we ask is for your help in taking back his ship, the Moray!”
The ex-skeletons looked at one another. The tattooed one asked, “Wait, we were dead and you brought us back to life?”
“Correct,” said Will.
“Well . . . ” He turned to the others. “We can all support that, can’t we?”
The ex-skeletons nodded and shrugged. “Long live Captain Draper!” “To Captain Draper!” “Huzzah!”
“Um, would any of you like clothes?” Brendan asked.
“Yes!” “Of course!” “Oh, please!” “Long live Captain Draper!”
“I’ll get them,” Brendan said, heading toward the hole in the floor. “There’s plenty in Mom and Dad’s closet. They’ll be wet, and salty, but at least it’s something.”
Brendan took a deep breath, jumped into the water, and breaststroked through the flooded hallway, surfacing in the master bedroom. He took a quick breath in the bubble of air that lined the ceiling and began grabbing things from his parents’ closet.
Meanwhile, back in the attic, the pale fat man held up one of the spell scrolls that Will had tossed on the floor. “What is this . . . Latin?”
“Give me that!” Will ordered, grabbing it. “None of you are to touch these scrolls. They contain confidential captain’s orders!”
Will hurriedly picked up the rest of the scrolls from the floor.
When Brendan returned with a bundle of sopping wet clothes, the ex-skeletons hurriedly got dressed, completely ignoring the gender of the clothing they were putting on. This resulted in some men wearing Mrs. Walker’s silk blouses or skirts—and some women stuffing themselves into Dr. Walker’s sports coats and checkered golf pants.
“Is there any food, perchance?” asked one of the men, who now wore Dr. Walker’s pajama pants and his gag-gift Bermuda shirt.
“There’s canned corn if you wanna swim for it,” said Brendan.
“There’s no fresh food here on the Kristoff,” said Will. “But back on the Moray there are plenty of things to eat. All we need to do is take the ship from Captain Sangray’s men.”
Will gave a knife to the black-haired woman, who now sported a pair of Dr. Walker’s slacks and one of his Izod shirts.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” she asked.
“Kill pirates,” said Will.
“I beg pardon, Captain Draper, but I’m an importer’s wife from Philadelphia. I’ve never held a dagger in my life. And I’ve certainly never killed anyone.”
“Well, you did just fine when you were a skeleton!” Brendan snapped.
“Look,” Will told the crowd, “you all took a long road to get here. Some of you were merchants, some sailors, some—”
“I was a pharmacist!” called a wizened old man in one of Mrs. Walker’s dresses.
“Exactly. A pharmacist. But now you’re a crew. My crew. And you have to be strong, and brave, and quick. Captain Sangray is dead, but his bloodthirsty pirates live on! Don’t you want to take revenge on the men who let your insides be torn out?”
A resounding cheer and several cries of “Yes!” went up.
“Then follow me!” Will went to the attic window—
Where Cordelia stopped him. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she whispered.
“This house is still sinking,” Will answered. “Either we take over the Moray or we go in the drink. Do you have a better idea?”
Cordelia tried to come up with one—but Will’s solution was all she could think of. She stepped aside and let the pilot climb out the window. The ex-skeletons followed. Brendan and Eleanor brought up the rear . . . and stopped when they saw their sister. She was almost crying.
“What’s wrong, Deal?” asked Brendan.
“It looks like the Moray’s going to be our new home,” Cordelia said. “I’m going to miss this place.”
“Why?” Brendan asked. “Think of everything it’s put us through! Kristoff House sucks!”
“True,” said Cordelia, “but when the going got tough, Kristoff House really stuck together.”
“Like us,” said Eleanor.
“And . . . being here,” Cordelia, said, her voice cracking, “it feels like we’re closer to Mom and Dad.”
“But we’re only gonna see Mom and Dad if we move on,” said Brendan.
Silence held the trio for a moment. Then they clasped hands and climbed out onto the roof.
The tears that had been welling in Cordelia’s eyes were instantly blasted away by the wind. The Walkers could feel salt spray on their cheeks. Will was leading the ex-skeletons across the rope to the Moray, hanging underneath it, toughing out the pain in his shoulder. A dozen men and women trailed him and the next dozen waited their turn. The ex-skeletons looked a lot less intimidating now that they weren’t made of bone—and that some of the men were dressed in ladies’ clothes.
Suddenly, a pirate called from the Moray’s stern: “Eh! What in blazes is this?”
Will tried to sound tough. “I am Captain Draper and I order you to stand down! I sent Sangray straight to hell and I’ll do the same to you!”
“Bah, you’re nothing but a boy with a bunch o’ funny-dressed prancers at your back,” said the pirate, aiming a gun at Will. “Killed Captain Sangray—a likely st
ory!”
The pirate cocked his pistol, seconds from putting a bullet into Will’s skull—
But a spinning knife thumped into his shoulder. The pirate lost his balance and went tumbling into the sea. Will whipped around and saw the tattooed man grinning as he clung to the rope. He might have been wearing a blue dress, but he was deadly with a blade.
More pirates gathered at the Moray’s stern. “What’s them on the rope?” “Basil’s gone over!” “Shoot ’em!”
The pirates took aim. The black-haired woman couldn’t stand it; she let go of the rope and plopped into the sea, screaming as she was carried away by a current. The pirates watched her with amusement, giving Will a chance to bargain. He began, “I am Captain Draper—”
“No,” said a pirate from behind his gun, “you are fish food.”
“Please!” “No!” “You can’t!” yelled the Walkers, back on the roof. They were in absolute terror. They knew they couldn’t survive without Will. And he was their friend. They couldn’t imagine him dropped into the water as a lifeless hunk of flesh—
“Stop!” a voice called.
Tranquebar stood on the deck of the Moray with his chin up and his good eye glinting.
“Stay your weapons!” Tranquebar ordered. “You’re all to let them on board.”
Grumbling, the pirates holstered their guns. Will opened his eyes; he had shut them tightly in anticipation of his death, although he would never admit that to anyone.
“Who are you, sir?” Will asked. “To whom do we owe our lives?”
“The name’s Tranquebar,” said the pirate. “First mate on this vessel. I served Captain Sangray—and now, it appears, I serve you.”
In short order, under Tranquebar’s direction Will, the Walkers, and the ex-skeletons were brought aboard the Moray. Tranquebar took “Captain Draper” and his mates into his quarters and explained the situation from his point of view.
“I’ve had a very eventful morning. Not five minutes ago I was going to speak with the captain, to deliver my daily report, when I found him missing and his quarters completely destroyed. But what caught my attention most of all . . . was a huge burned spot on the wall. And I found that very strange.”
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