Peter and the Sword of Mercy

by Dave Barry, Ridley Pearson

  “Nerezza!” he said.

  “I’m here.”

  “It is gone.”

  “It had better be, because if it comes back, I’ll feed your daughter to it.”

  “It will not come back.”

  A moment later, Nerezza appeared in the cave mouth. As before, he had Shining Pearl by the hair, and a knife to her neck. He looked at Fighting Prawn, then at the other Mollusk warriors, who had also descended from their trees and now surrounded the clearing.

  “Tell your men not to come any closer,” he said.

  “They will not,” said Fighting Prawn, his eyes on his daughter’s terrified face.

  “Good,” said Nerezza. “Now before we leave, my men are going to build a fire to signal the ship. They will need to gather wood. Tell your men to let them.”

  Fighting Prawn grunted a command. Four of Nerezza’s men emerged from the cave and went into the jungle, walking warily past the Mollusk warriors glaring at them. They returned in a few minutes with armloads of wood, some of it green. The wood was wet from the storm, so it took them a while, as Nerezza grew increasingly impatient, to get a fire started. But eventually they did, and when it was blazing, they tossed the green wood on the flames, sending a billowing stream of black smoke high into the sky. “All right,” said Nerezza, “let’s go.”

  Cheeky O’Neal emerged from the cave with the rest of the men. Two of them were holding the chest, which, being full of starstuff, weighed essentially nothing; the men were holding it down as much as carrying it. Fighting Prawn stared at it, wondering if he could really allow these men to take away the source of so much of the island’s happiness. Then his eyes went back to Shining Pearl, and his heart sank.

  They started down the mountain trail: O’Neal in front, the two men with the chest next, then Nerezza and Shining Pearl, with the rest of Nerezza’s men behind. Ahead of them, behind them, and all around them were the Mollusk warriors, moving silently through the jungle alongside. Fighting Prawn stayed close to Nerezza, his eyes always on Shining Pearl.

  The trail was still wet and muddy, so the going was slow. It took the group several tense hours to reach the beach. When they did, the Nimbus, having seen the signal and moved around from the village side of the island, was waiting for them, steaming back and forth just outside the reef.

  Nerezza’s men uncovered their launch and dragged it onto the beach and down to the surf. They loaded the chest aboard. The Mollusks watched helplessly, gathered in a semicircle around the launch. When Nerezza’s men started to board the launch, Fighting Prawn stepped forward.

  “Now let my daughter go,” he said to Nerezza.

  Nerezza shook his head. “Not here,” he said.

  “Leave her here, and we will not try to stop you from taking the starstuff,” said Fighting Prawn. “You have my word.”

  “And you have my word,” said Nerezza, “that when I am aboard the ship with the trunk, I’ll send your daughter back on this launch.”

  Fighting Prawn’s mind raced. If he had a canoe, he might be able to reach a bargain with Nerezza: two warriors in the canoe would accompany the launch to the ship and bring Shining Pearl back. But he had no canoe on this side of the island. The Mollusks had all come on foot.

  With a quick, easy motion, Nerezza lifted Shining Pearl into the launch and climbed in after her.

  “We’re pushing off,” he said. “Don’t try to stop us.”

  Fighting Prawn looked at the warriors around him, poised to attack if he gave the word. He looked at his daughter, crying softly in the launch, the blade at her throat. Then he looked into Nerezza’s cold, hard, eyes, the eyes of a man who was capable of any cruelty.

  He stepped away from the launch.

  “Send her back,” he said to Nerezza, “or I will track you down.”

  For a moment the two men looked into each other’s eyes.

  Then Nerezza turned to his men and barked, “Shove off!”

  Fighting Prawn turned and grunted some commands of his own. Three warriors took off running down the beach; they would go back to the village with orders to launch the war canoes immediately. But as he watched his men sprinting away, Fighting Prawn knew that no matter how fast they ran, the canoes probably would not get to this side of the island in time to do him any good.

  He turned back to watch the launch, now past the breakers and heading toward the ship, Nerezza’s men pulling hard on the oars. Nerezza, at the tiller with Shining Pearl beside him, was looking back at Fighting Prawn. He was smiling. Fighting Prawn didn’t like the look of that smile.

  From the bow of the launch, Cheeky O’Neal watched the island recede. His eyes lingered on the tall figure of Fighting Prawn, standing rigidly on the beach, staring at the men taking his daughter away.

  “I can’t believe he let us go,” he said.

  “He had no choice,” said Nerezza from the stern, also watching the beach.

  “I suppose not,” said O’Neal. He paused, then added, “Do you really plan to send her back?”

  Nerezza turned to look at O’Neal.

  “Don’t be stupid,” he said.

  CHAPTER 80

  ANOTHER BOAT

  THE Jolly Roger WAS making good speed, considering her battered condition. Since the joyful moment when the island had been sighted, the crew had been busy rigging every possible square inch of pink sail. The men were giddy at the prospect of food—fresh food—and the pure, sweet island water. Even Hook was in a decent mood; with the improvement in the ship’s fortunes, the crew had forgotten the recent unpleasantness, and he was captain again.

  It was Tink, in the rigging with the still-weak Peter, who had spotted the island. And as they drew close, it was Tink who now spotted the steamship. She pointed it out to Peter, who pointed it out to the lookout, who pointed it out to Hook, who ordered Smee to fetch his spyglass. That had been two hours ago; now, as they drew close, Hook was still studying the ship, trying to make sense of its actions.

  “It’s going back and forth outside the reef,” he muttered. “Why d’you suppose that is?”

  “One thing I never understood,” said Smee, “is why it’s back and forth, and not forth and back. It seems to me it would go forth first, and then it would go …”

  “Smee!” said Hook.

  “Aye, Cap’n?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Aye, Cap’n.”

  “There’s another boat,” Peter called down.

  “What is he talking about?” Hook shouted to the lookout. Hook, refusing to acknowledge that the hated boy was a passenger aboard his ship, refused to address Peter directly.

  “He’s right,” replied the lookout. “There’s a launch coming through the reef, making for the steamer.”

  In a flash Hook had the spyglass to his eye. He found the launch. It was being buffeted by the surf around the reef, so it took him a few seconds to get a clear look. But then he saw it, between the bodies of two of the men rowing.

  A chest.

  A chest with gold fittings.

  Hook knew instantly what was in the chest. He’d been aboard the flying ship that had brought it to the island in the first place. And he knew it took a special chest to hold it. It was a treasure more valuable than all the gold on earth.

  And Captain Hook—Pirate Captain Hook—meant to have it.

  With fire in his eye, he grabbed the wheel and began shouting orders.

  Peter and Tink also knew what was in the trunk.

  They knew they had to get it away from the men taking it off the island.

  They also knew they had to keep it from falling into the hands of Captain Hook.

  Peter had not recovered from his long flight over the sea; he wasn’t he sure how far he could fly, if he could fly at all. He and Tink conferred briefly in the rigging. Then, unseen by the busy pirates below, Tink took off, streaking toward the island.

  CHAPTER 81

  OUT TO SEA

  NEREZZA YANKED THE TILLER, turning the launch to starboard as it
pulled alongside the Nimbus.

  Crewmen on the Nimbus deck dropped two steel cables down from the boat hoist. Nerezza’s men began securing them to the bow and stern of the launch so it could be lifted aboard the steamship. Nerezza glanced back toward the island; no sign of pursuit. Apparently the chief had taken him at his word.

  Fool.

  The cables were secure. Nerezza looked up, preparing to shout the order to start the hoist. He saw two crewmen waving frantically at him, shouting and pointing aft. He turned to look.

  His mouth fell open.

  Rounding the stern of the Nimbus was a craft unlike any Nerezza had seen, looking more like a collapsed building than a ship, with bright pink sails sprouting from it at all angles. It would have been funny, except for the look of the men on the ship, a look Nerezza had seen before, although not for many years.

  Pirates.

  “START THE HOIST!” he bellowed.

  A second later the cables tensed and the launch came wobbling out of the water. It rose slowly, and with each second the pirates drew closer. Nerezza saw their leader now, a tall man with dark deep-set eyes and a huge black mustache.

  And a hook.

  Now Nerezza knew exactly whom he was up against.

  “FASTER!” he yelled to the men on deck.

  But the hoist had only one speed, and it was not quite fast enough. As the launch dangled on the side of the Nimbus, fifteen feet above the water, the pirate ship plowed into it. The launch spun and flew sideways, spinning out of control, then, with a sickening lurch, slammed into the steamer’s steel hull.

  Then the aft cable snapped.

  The stern of the launch dropped like a rock, dumping everyone and everything into the sea.

  Everything, that is, but the starstuff chest. For a few seconds, it hung in midair. Then it began to descend lazily, drifting in the breeze, until it settled gently on the foredeck of the pirate ship.

  With a roar of triumph, Hook spun the wheel.

  Shining Pearl was a good swimmer, but she had the bad luck of being at the stern of the launch, which meant that the other occupants landed on top of her. An instant after she plunged into the water, a booted foot slammed into her head, stunning her; a second later another impact drove her deeper. Losing consciousness, she swallowed water and felt herself drifting down into the dark water below.

  And then strong arms wrapped around her, and she was being lifted toward the light. She burst through the surface and turned to see her rescuer: it was Teacher, leader of the mermaids and an old friend of the Mollusks, who had been summoned by Tink. A moment later, Teacher’s powerful tail was propelling Shining Pearl swiftly toward shore and her anxious father.

  There were three other mermaids in the water, and they were not being so kind to the rest of the swimmers. They swarmed around the flailing men, nipping at their arms and legs with needle-sharp teeth. The terrified swimmers screamed for their crewmates on deck to throw down lines; they grabbed these and climbed them with desperate speed. When things finally got sorted out on deck, the crew realized that two men were missing: O’Neal and Nerezza. It was assumed that they had fallen victim to the savage mermaid creatures. Nobody wanted to go looking for them, not in these unwelcome waters. The remaining officers quickly made their decision. The Nimbus turned and, at full steam, headed out to sea.

  Far astern, a pile of floating debris—some seat planks and canvas that had fallen out of the launch when the cable broke—moved slowly but steadily toward the island.

  CHAPTER 82

  SO CLOSE

  PETER, CLINGING TO THE RIGGING in the Jolly Roger, was trying to decide what to do.

  Below him, Hook—who for the moment had apparently forgotten about his unwelcome passenger—was loudly celebrating his courageous defeat of the enemy ship—now steaming rapidly away—and his brilliant capture of the treasure. Hook stood on the foredeck, one foot on the chest, declaring to his crew that its contents would make them the most feared pirates on the sea, and even on the land, because now the ship could fly. Hook had seen it with his own eyes!

  The pirates cheered. Hook beamed.

  Looking down, Peter worried. Because Hook was right: with that much starstuff, he could do unimaginable damage, if he didn’t kill himself and his crew first. Peter looked around for allies. The mermaids had departed, apparently satisfied that when the steamship left, their job was done. There were Mollusks on the beach, but that was hundreds of yards away. Even Tink, at the moment, seemed to be missing. That left Peter, who wasn’t sure he was strong enough to fly down to the deck, let alone take on a shipload of pirates.

  But who else was there?

  “Hook!” he shouted.

  The pirate captain looked up, and the triumph on his face changed to fury.

  “You,” he said. “Get off my ship!”

  “The chest is dangerous,” said Peter. “You’ll all die if you open it. You can’t keep it.”

  “Is that so?” said Hook. “And who’s going to take it away from me?”

  Peter stood up in the rigging. His knees felt weak; he hoped he had enough strength.

  “I’m going to stop you,” he said.

  Hook smiled, revealing the row of irregular brown stumps that passed for his teeth. He drew his sword.

  “All right, boy,” he said. “Come down and stop me.”

  Peter took a breath. His plan was to swoop down close to Hook, drawing him away from the chest. Then Peter would pull up and swerve around him, grab the chest, and carry it overboard. It was a good plan. The question was, did Peter have the strength?

  He let out the breath and dove for the rigging.

  The first part of the plan worked: as Peter swooped down, Hook came toward him, away from the chest. But as Peter tried to stop his descent and swerve around Hook, he found that he was far weaker than he’d feared. He slammed into the deck, barely breaking his fall with his arms, and rolled to a stop at Hook’s feet, groaning.

  The pirates started forward. Hook bellowed at them to stay back.

  “This moment is mine,” he said.

  Peter, on his back, his body screaming in pain, opened his eyes to see Hook standing over him.

  “This time,” Hook said, “I’ll make sure you’re dead.”

  Slowly, enjoying the moment, he began to raise his sword. Peter tried to roll sideways to escape, but Hook’s boot came down on him, shoving him back. The boot pressed against Peter’s pocket. Peter felt something sharp.

  The tip of the Sword of Mercy. He’d forgotten to drop it with the sword. Frantically, Peter reached for his pocket.

  “Now, boy,” said Hook. “Die.”

  He brought the sword down. He was aiming for Peter’s neck. His aim was true, but Peter’s hand was just quick enough as he brought the sword tip up to meet Hook’s downward thrust. There was a clash, and then a clattering sound, as the tip of Hook’s sword tumbled across the deck and into the sea.

  Hook held up his broken sword, staring at it in disbelief.

  From the deck, Peter saw a brilliant light over the pirate’s shoulder.

  Tink. To Peter, she looked like an angel.

  Stay down, she chimed.

  For a moment, Peter wondered why. And then he saw the sleek silvery shape hurtling through the air.

  Ammm.

  The porpoise, having launched himself from the water on the starboard side, slammed into Hook’s body, sending him sprawling on the deck. Ammm’s momentum carried the porpoise over the port side. Before he reentered the water, two more airborne porpoises appeared on the starboard side, both aiming for the starstuff chest, their blunt noses hitting it at precisely the same moment.

  “NO!!” screamed Hook as he watched the starstuff chest slide off the ship and into the sea. Realizing what was next, he shouted “GET THE BOY!!”

  But it was too late. With a roar of fury, Hook watched as Peter, who had crawled to the edge of the deck, slipped over the side, landing gently on the starstuff chest, which bobbed in the water like a c
ork. Gathered around it were a dozen smiling porpoises, and a very self-satisfied Tinker Bell.

  “LOWER THE BOATS!!” shouted Hook. “GET THE HARPOONS!! I WANT THAT BOY, AND I WANT THAT CHEST!!”

  His crew, who knew that the Jolly Roger had no boats to lower, and no harpoons, did nothing.

  “Cap’n,” said Smee, tugging Hook’s sleeve.

  “WHAT IS IT?” said Hook, whirling in fury.

  Backing away nervously, Smee said, “I think we’d better be going.”

  “WHY??”

  Smee pointed, and Hook looked. Coming around the point of the island were two dozen or more big canoes, each full of Mollusk warriors.

  Hook looked down at the sea, where the chest—the chest that would have made him the most feared pirate on the sea or the land—bobbed gently in the waves, so close….

  Then he looked at the oncoming canoes.

  Then his shoulders slumped, and he gave the order.

  “Make for Pirate Cove,” he said.

  The battered ship made it that far, and no farther. When it reached the cove, its overburdened pumps finally gave out, and it settled to the bottom, in exactly the spot where it had sat for more than twenty years.

  As if it had never left.

  CHAPTER 83

  CONCERNS

  THE SUN WENT DOWN on a boisterous celebration in the mollusk village. There was much to celebrate, with the safe return of the children and the recovery of the chest. There was also much to talk about. Peter, with considerable prodding from tink, told of his harrowing adventures in the strange place called london. Shining Pearl, Little Scallop, and the Lost Boys told of their ordeal at the hands of Nerezza and O’Neal. There was laughter, a lot of hugging, and some crying, including a tearful promise by Shining Pearl to her father that she would never, ever, ever again disobey the rule about leaving the village at night. She also promised him she would give him something for his birthday, although it definitely was not going to be a white starfish; Shining Pearl had decided those weren’t such good luck after all.