“If they ever show up.” The gargoyle shivered. “This island is as empty as Admiral Westfield’s heart, and almost as cold. I hope we make it to Gunpowder Square before my snout freezes.”
HILARY LED THE way through the island’s winding streets, each just as deserted as the last. No buccaneers lurked on the front stoop of the mapmaker’s shop or under the striped umbrellas of the ice cream parlor. The farther Hilary walked, the more uneasy she felt. If the pirates of Gunpowder Island weren’t anywhere in sight, where in the world could they be?
Then Hilary turned the corner into Gunpowder Square.
“Oh, blast,” she whispered.
The square was positively teeming with pirates. Some were jolly and some were grim; some were round and some were spindly; some wore fine cloth coats and some wore thin, patched breeches. They sharpened their swords, checked their pocket watches, and leaned against the square’s statues of famous pirates from history. One enterprising scallywag was serving hot grog from a steaming iron kettle.
“Blacktooth hasn’t just brought a few supporters with him,” said Charlie; “he’s brought half the League.”
Hilary felt sure he was right. “They may have us outnumbered,” she told her mates, “but don’t let them intimidate you. Remember, we’re just here to announce our intentions; we’re not going into battle.”
“Yet,” said Mr. Partridge, who had turned nearly as green as his parrot. Hilary gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. Then she straightened her pirate hat, smoothed her braid, and led her mates out into the square.
All the pirates in the crowd raised their swords.
“Roasted,” the gargoyle muttered, “and served with potatoes. I knew it.”
Hilary walked down the narrow cobblestone path that ran between the ranks of pirates. She tried not to think about all the shiny steel blades pointed in her direction, or about how very sharp they were sure to be. Some of the pirates jeered as she passed, and others uttered words that Miss Greyson would have described as most unsavory.
“They don’t seem to like you very much,” Claire whispered in Hilary’s ear.
“No,” said Hilary, “and I can’t imagine that challenging their president to a battle will improve the situation.” She gritted her teeth and kept walking, though the crowd of pirates stretched ahead of her like a vast and ill-tempered sea.
At the far end of the square, a small and shivering group of onlookers stood apart from the pirates. The first was Sir Nicholas Feathering, who was bold enough to smile as Hilary passed by. “It’s pleasant to see you again, Pirate Westfield,” he said. “I’d greet your mates as well, but they seem to be glaring daggers at me, and . . .” He turned as pale as Miss Greyson’s mittens. “Alice! What are you doing here? It’s far too dangerous! Can’t you see these people have swords?”
“I’m here to support Hilary,” Alice snapped, “and I’m not talking to you. I don’t associate with Mutineers.”
Nicholas ran a hand through his hair and looked worriedly at Philomena, who stood next to him wrapped in a long woolen cloak. Hilary tried to walk past her as quickly as she could, but that didn’t prevent Philomena from grabbing hold of her arm with a surprising amount of strength. “You may think you can ruin Uncle Blacktooth’s career, Miss Westfield,” she murmured, “but I simply won’t have it. Soon I shall be the new Enchantress, and you shall be in exile.”
“Please let go of me, Miss Tilbury,” Hilary said as calmly as she could manage. “I can’t imagine the ladies and gentlemen of High Society think it’s polite to grab one’s acquaintances. Are you sure your mother would approve?”
Philomena frowned and let go of Hilary’s arm as Claire pushed her way through the crowd. “If you touch Hilary again,” Claire said furiously, “I shall turn you into a centipede on the spot! Perhaps if you’re quick enough, a pirate won’t squash you under his boot.”
“Exaggeration doesn’t suit you, Miss Dupree,” said Philomena. “You’re not talented enough to do anything of the sort.”
Claire clenched her fists, but Hilary put a hand on her shoulder. “Never mind Philomena,” she whispered. “Just keep walking.”
There had once been a time when Admiral Westfield would have refused to come within fifty yards of a pirate. Now, however, he stood willingly on Gunpowder Island, towering over the other Mutineers and casting a shadow that seemed to stretch the length of the square. Hilary wished he would disappear at once. He didn’t say a word as she passed him, but he stared at her intently, which was quite unpleasant enough.
The gentleman on Admiral Westfield’s left was young and tall, and Hilary nearly didn’t recognize him until she saw the satisfied sneer on his face. “Oliver Sanderson!” she cried. “Aren’t you supposed to be at some sort of school for impudent boys?”
“I graduated,” said Oliver, “with terribly high marks. When the admiral was released from the Dungeons, he was kind enough to take me back into his employment. He’s been like a father to me, you know.”
“Really?” Hilary raised her cutlass. “I wasn’t aware he was capable of it.”
The sneer on Oliver’s face grew broader. “What about you, Miss Westfield? Aren’t you supposed to be a proper young lady?”
“If I were a proper young lady, then I wouldn’t be permitted to slice off your nose.”
Jasper tapped Hilary on the shoulder. “Terror,” he said, “I’m not any more fond of Mr. Sanderson’s nose than you are, but we have more pressing matters at the moment.”
Reluctantly, Hilary lowered her cutlass and turned away from Oliver. There, in front of her, stood Captain Blacktooth, in his grandest coat and a hat so wide that Hilary wondered how he kept it from blowing off his head. Perhaps he’d frightened the wind into obeying his orders. “Hello, Terror,” he said. “I believe you have something to tell me.”
“You bet she does!” the gargoyle cried.
Hilary put her shoulders back and lifted her chin, for she knew perfectly well that a good pirate doesn’t slouch when she issues a formal challenge. “Captain Rupert Blacktooth,” she said as loudly as she could, “I am here to seek the presidency of the Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates.”
Admiral Westfield whispered something into Oliver’s ear, and Oliver smirked. Hilary glared at them both. “Therefore,” she said, turning back to Captain Blacktooth, “I challenge you to a High Seas battle. Do you accept my challenge, or would you rather leave the kingdom at once?”
This pronouncement had sounded terribly ferocious in Hilary’s head, but it must have gotten tangled up in the Gunpowder Island breeze, for Captain Blacktooth didn’t even flinch. Instead, he polished his spectacles, looking as exasperated as a governess with a disobedient charge. “I would rather be back in my office at League headquarters,” he said, “sitting in my favorite armchair, with a fire in the hearth and an interesting new treasure map to study. But as you’ve made that impossible, I am here to defend my position.” He stepped closer to Hilary. “I am, however, willing to give you a chance to change your mind. I have always thought you were a wise girl, but if I may speak frankly, this challenge of yours seems to me to be the height of foolishness. Are you truly so eager to throw away your promising career for a life in exile?”
“I won’t be the one in exile,” Hilary said firmly. “I’m not the one who’s plotting with a villainous admiral, either. Isn’t joining forces with the Royal Navy against nearly every one of the League’s rules?”
This time, Hilary knew she had struck a blow, for Blacktooth coughed and fumbled with his spectacles. “My business partners are none of your concern,” he said. “In any case, your father merely volunteers for the navy, and I’m quite sure there’s no rule against consorting with volunteers.” He settled the spectacles back on his nose. “Now, Terror, since you refuse to disappear quietly, I am forced to proceed with the formalities. Where are your supporters?”
“We’re right here,” Charlie said.
“And we’re willing to fight to the
death!” Alice added.
“Or very nearly,” said Jasper.
Blacktooth smiled. “That’s quite noble of you, Mr. Fletcher,” he said, “but I’m afraid your support isn’t of much use at the moment. The rules specifically state that each candidate must be vouched for by a current member of the League, and I’m certain you don’t qualify. In fact,” he said, letting his eyes wander over Hilary’s mates, “I’m not sure any of these unusual scallywags are League members. Without a qualified supporter, your challenge is—how shall I put it?” Captain Blacktooth smiled. “Dead in the water.”
The pirates in the square chortled.
“Oh, honestly,” said Hilary, “you needn’t be so pleased with yourselves. I’m well acquainted with the rules, and I’ve brought a League member with me. Mr. Twigget, will you please step forward?”
Blacktooth narrowed his eyes. “Did you say Twigget?”
Mr. Twigget had not stepped forward—in fact, he seemed to be trying to hide behind Mr. Flintlock—but Hilary took him by the hand and pulled him in front of Blacktooth. “I’m sure I don’t need to introduce you,” she said, “since Twigget was your first mate.”
Twigget cleared his throat. “I’m here to support the Terror,” he said—rather shakily, Hilary thought, but it couldn’t be helped.
Blacktooth took one look at Twigget and shook his head. “I expelled this traitor from the League myself. Why are you wasting my time, Mr. Twigget?”
Twigget swayed back and forth until Hilary thought he would swoon like a High Society lady right there on the cobblestones. “It’s a funny thing, sir,” he said, mostly to his boots. “When you expelled me, you did a lot of blusterin’, but you never filled out the paperwork.”
“Nonsense.” Captain Blacktooth waved his hand, and a short, balding pirate hurried to his side, dragging a long scroll of parchment behind him. Hilary had met this pirate once before; he was Blacktooth’s private secretary. “Mr. Gull,” said Blacktooth, “please review the membership roll and show Mr. Twigget that his name has been crossed off the list.”
Mr. Gull made his way down the parchment, which flapped in the breeze and tangled around his legs. Miss Greyson murmured something about parchment scrolls being entirely impractical in the modern era, and Captain Blacktooth gave her a very dark look indeed.
“Here we are,” said Mr. Gull at last, pointing a finger halfway down the list of names. “Eustace Twigget. Expulsion forms have not been filed with the League.” He swallowed. “I believe they’re in a jumble on your desk, Captain.”
Blacktooth scowled at the membership roll. “The Terror’s challenge stands,” he said at last, though he sounded as if he regretted it. “Extract yourself from that ridiculous scroll, Mr. Gull.”
Mr. Gull did as he was told, and Hilary’s crewmates cheered. Captain Blacktooth leaned closer to Hilary. “By the way, Terror,” he murmured, “you might remind your mates that gloating is an unappealing quality, particularly in pirates. It tends to attract swords to one’s neck.”
“Perhaps it does,” said Hilary, “but you might remind your own mates that they’re not allowed to lay a hand on my crew before our battle.”
“Unfortunate, but true.” Captain Blacktooth shrugged and stepped forward to address the crowd of pirates in front of him. “I have accepted the Terror’s challenge,” he announced. “Our fleets shall meet in battle in exactly three months’ time, on the High Seas just south of Queensport Harbor. The champion will take charge of the Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates, and the defeated scallywag will be banished from the kingdom.”
All the pirates in the square roared and waved their cutlasses. Claire, who did not have a cutlass to wave, tossed her hat in the air instead. Miss Pimm clapped politely, and Admiral Westfield raised a flagon of grog high in the air, but Philomena drew her woolen cape around her shoulders and looked even more cross than usual.
“Now, Terror,” said Blacktooth, “you’d be wise to leave Gunpowder Island at once. I suspect you’ll need every moment of those three months to find two hundred pirates willing to support you.”
“Two hundred?” The gargoyle nearly leaped out of his bag. “I thought we only had to find twenty! Isn’t that right, Hilary?”
“That’s what it says in the guidebook.” Hilary held up her battered copy of Leading the League. “Twenty crew members, and not a scallywag more. As I told you, Captain Blacktooth, I’m quite familiar with the rules.”
“May I see that?” Mr. Gull reached for Hilary’s book and inspected its spine. He sniffed the pages. He held the book to his ear. Finally, he ran his finger across the cover and touched it to the tip of his tongue. “Just as I thought,” he said. “This is a fifth edition. We’re up to the seventeenth by now.”
Hilary’s stomach looped itself into a bowline and pulled itself tight. “And what does it say in the seventeenth edition?”
Mr. Gull looked rather apologetic. “I’m afraid the estimates have been revised due to inflation.”
“What does that mean?” the gargoyle cried.
“It means you’ll need to find two hundred supporters,” said Captain Blacktooth. “Two hundred at the very least, or you’ll have to forfeit. Isn’t that right, Gull?”
Mr. Gull nodded. “That’s right, sir.”
Captain Blacktooth gestured to the pirates in the square. “As you can see, I’ve already assembled my crew. I suggest you gather your own at once.”
The gargoyle stared at him. “But that’s impossible!”
Hilary knew the gargoyle was right. She wasn’t even acquainted with two hundred pirates, and most of the ones she had met were sure to be loyal to Captain Blacktooth. If she could barely find one League member willing to vouch for her in Gunpowder Square, however was she supposed to find two hundred who would follow her into battle?
“If you’d prefer,” said Captain Blacktooth, “my mates can chase you into the sea right now, and we’ll be done with this nonsense once and for all.”
Hilary retrieved her book from Mr. Gull and snapped it shut. “That won’t be necessary,” she said. “There have got to be at least two hundred pirates who dislike the Mutineers as much as I do, and I promise you I’ll find them.”
Captain Blacktooth raised an eyebrow. “If you and I were still on good terms,” he said, “I would wish you luck, for I suspect you’ll need it.” Then he nodded to Philomena, who hurried to his side. “My dear, could you see that we are transported back to Tilbury Park? We have affairs to arrange with your mother.”
“Of course.” Philomena reached into the folds of her cloak and pulled out a golden goblet large enough to hold grog for half a dozen pirates. The gargoyle’s ears twitched, as they always did when a magical item drew near. “Magic,” said Philomena, holding the goblet firmly in both hands, “we five Mutineers would like to leave this uncivilized island before we all catch a chill. Please send us to Tilbury Park as quickly as you can.”
One moment Philomena was there, and the next she simply wasn’t. In her place was nothing but empty air and cobblestones. The other Mutineers had vanished as well; even Blacktooth’s extravagant hat had been whisked away. From the far corners of the square, a few of his mates applauded.
Miss Pimm put her hands on her hips and frowned at the space where Philomena had stood. “Impressive,” she said.
The gargoyle rolled his eyes. “Those Mutineers are nothing but show-offs.”
Truthfully, Hilary was relieved to see them go, though she wished she hadn’t missed her chance to acquaint Oliver with her cutlass. “Show-offs or not,” she said, “I’m afraid Captain Blacktooth was right about one thing. If we want to find two hundred pirates who’ll lend us their support, we’ll have to start searching at once.”
* * *
A LETTER FROM ROYALTY!
HER ROYAL HIGHNESS
Queen Adelaide of Augusta
Pirate Hilary Westfield, Terror of the Southlands
The Pigeon
The High Seas
Dea
r Pirate Westfield:
As I read the Queensport Gazette this morning over my royal breakfast, I learned that you will be facing Captain Rupert Blacktooth in battle in three months’ time. I do not typically involve myself in the affairs of pirates, for I understand they prefer to operate ever so slightly outside the law. I believe, however, that every contest should be judged by a wise and fair observer, and your battle with Captain Blacktooth is no exception.
The leadership of the Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates happens to be a matter of particular interest to me. Therefore, I shall attend the battle to ensure that all is “shipshape” and “aboveboard,” as I am told you pirates are so fond of saying. I shall be returning from my annual goodwill tour of the southern kingdoms on the morning of the battle, but I trust you will not begin to fire your cannons until I have arrived. Needless to say, I would appreciate it if you and your colleagues would keep your cutlasses at a safe distance from my royal person during the skirmish. I have requested this courtesy from Captain Blacktooth as well.
I look forward to seeing you on the High Seas this spring!
Regally yours,
The Queen
* * *
* * *
Dear Hilary,
I am writing this from our carriage as we speed south along the road to Pemberton. I hear the Southlands Hills are quite beautiful at this time of year, but I’ve barely been able to glimpse them through the window, for Miss Pimm has been keeping me occupied with lessons and exercises ever since we left Gunpowder Island. I’m afraid I’ve been making quite a hash of even the simplest enchantments: instead of lifting Miss Pimm’s hat off her head, I somehow managed to lift the entire top of the carriage. The coachman seemed awfully displeased. Miss Pimm says I must learn to control myself, and I am trying my best, but I don’t know how much use I shall be to you in your battle against Captain Blacktooth. Until then, I shall devote myself to my studies. (Actually, I shall start devoting myself as soon as Miss Pimm wakes up from her nap. While she is sleeping, she cannot point out all the things I am doing wrong, and I believe she would be sorry to miss the opportunity.)
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