The Golden Paw

by Jason Lethcoe

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” Andy called. “Ned is in danger!”

  He related to the others what he’d heard with Abigail. They all agreed he’d come to the correct conclusion based on the cryptic conversation the Potentate had had with Cedric.

  “Why, that double-crossing little quack!” Rusty growled. “When I get my hands on that tribal-masked fiend, he’s going to wish he’d never been born.”

  Betty, Dotty, and Abigail voiced similar convictions. To have one of their own betray the Society like this was the worst thing anyone could imagine. Each of them owed Ned Lostmore a great debt, and all considered him a dear friend. But to Andy, it went deeper than that. Ned was family! He couldn’t allow anything to happen to him.

  Andy tugged on the bars with all his might. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected much to happen. To his surprise, the door to his cell swung open easily.

  “Hey!” Andy shouted. “They forgot to lock my door!”

  “Don’t move!” Rusty shouted back. “It’s a trap!”

  Andy poked his head out of the cell door. All he could see was a long hallway with a trench of murky water flowing down the center of it. There didn’t seem to be anything dangerous.

  “But there’s nothing there,” Andy said.

  “This place is known in the criminal underworld. If we are where I think we are, most of them call it Prisoner’s Folly. Nobody knows the original name. It might never have even had one….I heard about it when my plane was grounded with engine trouble in the Caribbean. Had to spend the night in a very sketchy inn, a place I wouldn’t recommend to anyone,” Rusty said in a pained voice.

  “It looks like an ordinary dungeon to me,” Andy replied.

  “Trust me, it’s not,” said Rusty. “Every prisoner is given the opportunity to escape. I think it’s mostly for the entertainment of the people who put us here. This place is designed to drive a person insane. If you think the traps that the Collective put in front of us in that phony Death Maze were bad, you have no idea what this place can do.”

  Andy stared down the hallway at the place where he thought Rusty was imprisoned. He couldn’t see him, but he could hear his voice. Aside from the muddied trench, the corridor looked clean and well cared for. How in the world could it be dangerous to at least have a look around outside his cell?

  “Hey, Rusty, are you sure? I mean, how do you know that this is Prisoner’s Folly? What if we’re just in an old dungeon somewhere?”

  “Because I tried leaving my cell,” said Rusty. “And look what it did to me.”

  Down the hall, Andy saw a meaty arm poke out from the farthest cell. But an arm was all that he saw. Where Rusty’s left hand used to be was nothing but a stump covered with bloody rags.

  Andy felt sick. “What did that to you?”

  “So far as I can tell, it was a Dingonek,” said Rusty. “It’s a legendary creature that can only be summoned using the talisman of Magu Wandu. It’s part crocodile, part scorpion, and a hundred percent vicious. The minute you set foot on those flagstones, a door opens at the end of the hall and the beast is released. It came swimming at me down that trench quicker than lightning. Nothing I could do to stop it.”

  Andy paled. He’d almost charged right out of his cell without thinking!

  “Will you be okay?” Abigail called.

  “Just a scratch,” Rusty replied bravely. But Andy could tell by the sound of his voice that he was in a lot of pain.

  Think, Andy, think. This can’t be the end. There’s got to be a way out of here….

  Andy gazed around his cell, inspecting everything closely. He moved over to the rocks on the wall and began to meticulously scan them for any anomalies. He’d read about prisoners sometimes leaving messages for other prisoners who might be put in the same cell. Perhaps one of the pirates who used to be imprisoned there had done the same.

  The first wall he looked at yielded nothing. But while on his hands and knees in the far corner of the cell, he saw something worth noting.

  The mortar around this stone looks like it’s crumbled away. It was exactly the kind of thing that he was looking for!

  Andy held his breath as he tried to work the small stone free, desperately hoping that his instincts were leading him down the right track. After all, pirates were good at hiding treasure, weren’t they? Couldn’t one of them have hidden a message behind the stone?

  His fingertips grew scraped and bloodied as he worked, but hope kept him at it. Finally, after several minutes, there was a small pop and the stone came free.

  Andy probed the spot where the stone had been. At first he didn’t think anything was there. Then his fingers brushed something in the farthest recesses of the hole. He strained to grab it.

  Andy’s pulse quickened when he saw what he’d found. It was a tiny piece of leather wrapped with a bit of thread.

  “I found something,” he called out.

  “What?” came Abigail’s reply.

  “I think it might be a message from one of the former prisoners,” Andy said. He fumbled with the thread and, after breaking it with his teeth, unrolled the tiny piece of leather. There were words written there in brown ink!

  Old blood, more like. Andy knew about all kinds of different inks because of his fascination with fountain pens. This wasn’t like any ink he’d ever seen. Besides, a prisoner wouldn’t have access to much. Whoever had been there before him had probably had to make do with what was at hand.

  Andy read the message written there first to himself. Then, unable to contain his excitement, he read it aloud to the others. Some of the message was faded, but Andy felt that there was enough there to figure out the note.

  “Beware ye the devil in the deep,” Andy read. “For she’ll surely take yer life.

  She cannae be harmed by mortal strength,

  but obeys the shipwright’s fife.

  Barnacle Billy took it below;

  he’s in the Rog Guffaw.

  So if ye dare to take a swim,

  beware the creature’s maw.”

  “What’s it mean?” Betty called out.

  “I really don’t know,” Andy confessed.

  “It’s got to be code for something,” said Abigail.

  Andy racked his brain, trying to figure out the meaning behind the rhyme. He was good with riddles and secret codes, but this one was different from most. It seemed like this one was less about figuring out a puzzle and more like understanding the language that the writer was using.

  Okay, let me try taking it line by line, he thought. He gazed at the scrap of leather, going over the words carefully.

  Beware ye the devil in the deep. Well, that one was easy enough. In this case, the writer of the poem was definitely referring to the monster in the water.

  For she’ll surely take yer life. Again, pretty obvious. Rusty’s injury was testimony to what the terrible creature could do if she caught you. Andy grimaced as he thought about the possibility of his friend bleeding to death.

  Poor Rusty. He needs to see a doctor!

  Andy tried to put his anxiety out of his mind and concentrate instead on the task at hand. He breathed deeply to steady himself and read on.

  She cannae be harmed by mortal strength,

  but obeys the shipwright’s fife.

  What was a shipwright’s fife? Andy stared at the phrase, trying to figure it out.

  Abigail interrupted his thoughts. “I’ve got an idea!” she called.

  “What?” Andy called back.

  “I was thinking about the words. Shipwright. That’s a carpenter who builds boats. But why would a carpenter be playing a fife? Isn’t a fife a small flute? It doesn’t make sense unless it has to do with being on a ship. Is there a special instrument associated with being on a boat?”

  Andy tried to think about all the books he’d read about sailing, like the Horatio Hornblower novels and Treasure Island. Was there anything mentioned there?

  Ok, let’s think about this. Is there another name for a shipw
right? What are the positions on a ship? There’s the captain, of course. He has a first mate. The person who steers is the helmsman. And the ship’s carpenter is a…

  “A boatswain!” Andy exclaimed. Then the other part of the phrase made sense. The boatswain had his own special instrument for calling the crew to attention.

  “I’ve got part of it,” he called. “The shipwright’s fife refers to a boatswain’s whistle,” Andy said excitedly. “It’s a funny-looking brass whistle that’s usually worn on a chain around the carpenter’s neck.”

  “Good job, Andy!” called Abigail. The others gave a weak cheer.

  “That means that this creature—what did you call it?” Andy asked.

  “Dingonek,” Rusty called.

  “The Dingonek must be sensitive to its sound. It says in the poem that it obeys the shipwright’s fife. Maybe the person who discovered that escaped, but hid this note for the next person imprisoned here to find.”

  “But where is it? Is there any boatswain’s whistle hidden in your cell?” called Dotty.

  “I don’t think so,” Andy said. He glanced over the poem again. “It says, Barnacle Billy took it below; he’s in the Rog Guffaw.”

  “Could it mean that whoever Barnacle Billy is, he’s buried beneath one of the cells?” Abigail asked.

  Andy shook his head. “I have a feeling that below refers to the water.” He glanced uneasily at the deep channel of water that flowed down the chamber outside his cell.

  “Okay, but if that’s the case, then what’s the Rog Guffaw? It sounds like a location,” said Betty.

  “Maybe,” said Andy. “Let me think some more.”

  Rog Guffaw, Rog Guffaw. Andy couldn’t remember hearing that name in any story about ships. What could a Rog Guffaw be? And how could someone be in it?

  He gazed at the poem and tried separating the words. Rog. It could sound like log. Or maybe it was short for something. Reg could be short for regius and was also an abbreviation for the name Reggie. What if Rog didn’t sound like log, but Raj, like short for…?

  “Roger,” Andy whispered. “Okay, now if Rog is short for Roger, how could Billy be in the Roger Guffaw? Unless…”

  Andy brightened. Of course! It was so simple! Guffaw was another word for laughter. But in pirate speak, Rog Guffaw could mean…

  “Jolly Roger!” Andy exclaimed. “Barnacle Billy must have died and been wrapped in a pirate flag, commonly called the Jolly Roger. And since they couldn’t bury him at sea like pirates usually do, they must have dumped him in…”

  Andy’s voice trailed off as he gazed at the horrible trench. Somewhere down at the bottom of the trench was the ship’s carpenter, the boatswain called Barnacle Billy. The pirate who had left the note wouldn’t have wanted to risk his captors finding the boatswain’s whistle after he escaped. So he’d hidden it on Billy’s bones under the water.

  Andy gulped. The rest of the poem was easy now.

  So if ye dare to take a swim,

  beware the creature’s maw.

  Andy knew maw referred to the jaws or throat of a voracious animal. Now everything was clear. He knew what he had to do.

  “Looks like I’m going for a swim!”

  Andy stood, shivering, at the edge of his cell. He’d stripped down to his skivvies so that his clothes would stay dry.

  “Andy, be careful! Are you sure you want to do this? What if the note isn’t true?” Abigail asked.

  Andy called back, “It’s the only chance we’ve got.”

  Suddenly, a noise that sounded like booted feet echoed on the ceiling above them.

  “It’s the guards,” Betty and Dotty said in unison.

  Andy knew there was no time to waste. “I’m going in,” he said. “If I don’t make it back, please do everything you can to rescue my grandfather.”

  “Andy, wait!” Abigail shouted.

  But Andy ignored her. After taking a couple of steadying breaths, he leapt from the cell and ran as fast as he could to the deep trench in the center of the hall. As he ran, he heard the sound of a heavy door scraping open from somewhere and a huge splash.

  Don’t think about it!

  Andy hit the water. When it came to athletics, he wasn’t all that gifted. He wasn’t a particularly strong swimmer, but he knew he could hold his own.

  Andy kicked his feet like his life depended on it—which it probably did. He had no idea where the Dingonek was, and he cringed at the thought of its powerful jaws closing on his feet. The water in the trench was murky, but he could make out shapes beneath the surface. He dove deeper, hoping beyond hope that he’d deciphered the note correctly.

  His lungs were screaming for air when he spotted what he was looking for—a black flag wrapped around a bulky form. He could see the hint of a skull and crossbones along one side.

  Barnacle Billy!

  Andy kicked hard to the surface and grabbed a quick breath before diving back down again. Fearful that the Dingonek’s sharp teeth might pierce his legs at any minute, he tore away the rotted fabric that covered the bones and searched desperately around the skeleton’s neck for the chain a boatswain usually hung his whistle upon. There was nothing there! Then, just as he was about to give up hope, he felt the tiny links of a chain stuck between two of the neck vertebrae of the skeleton.

  Andy gave a mighty tug. The chain was stuck! If he couldn’t get it soon, he would be out of air!

  A shadow passed over the skeleton. Andy looked up and saw that a gigantic pair of eyes were suddenly even with his. The Dingonek was a monster unlike anything Andy had ever seen before. Its face reminded him vaguely of an anglerfish, with horrible pale eyes and long saberlike teeth that stuck out from its lower jaw. But the resemblance stopped there. On its head stood a large pointed horn, and its tail was barbed like that of a scorpion!

  The sight filled Andy with such horror that, without even thinking, he jerked back on the chain he was holding. The skeleton’s bones cracked and the whistle came free.

  The Dingonek lunged, its mouth open wide like a great white shark’s. Andy, driven by adrenaline and fear, ducked under the creature at the last possible second. He barely managed to avoid the stinger tail as he swam beneath its belly.

  He was screaming bloody murder inside, terrified to death of the creature. But the extra boost of adrenaline that the fear gave him enabled him to kick harder and swim faster than he ever had before in his life!

  Andy broke the surface with a huge shuddering gasp. He wasted no time in leaping over the edge of the trench. Scrambling on all fours like a frightened crab, he raced toward his cell. He was dimly aware of figures standing at the end of the hallway, pistols drawn, but he didn’t have time to think about them. The Dingonek was amphibious, and it leapt right out of the water. It was hot on his heels, its gigantic crocodile-like form slamming down on the flagstones just inches from his left foot!

  Andy knew he would never make it to his cell in time. The creature was faster than he was and, as evidenced by Rusty’s arm, would bite him in two the first chance it got.

  He fumbled with the chain and raised the boatswain’s whistle to his lips. At first, there was no noise other than water bursting through the hole. But then a high, piercing note rang through the prison corridor.

  Andy heaved and collapsed on the floor. Blowing the whistle had taken every last ounce of breath he had possessed. He glanced behind him and saw that he’d deciphered the poem correctly. The Dingonek, huge and terrible, was writhing on the ground, gnashing its terrible jaws. A second later, it began to shimmer. And then, with a golden burst of light, it disappeared, leaving behind what looked like an ancient amulet.

  “Get the artifact!” a voice shouted. Three guards rushed toward it, but Andy lunged for it just before they got there.

  “Back off!” he shouted. “Or I’ll release it again, and this time it’s going for you!”

  The guards hesitated, their eyes round with fear. A man dressed in a military jacket and goggles, who Andy could only assume was th
eir leader, said, “Give it here, sonny. That belongs to us!”

  “N-not anymore,” Andy said. His teeth had started to chatter because of the trauma and the chilly dungeon. “Get back and throw down your weapons.”

  The leader nodded to the others, who tossed their pistols on the ground. They all backed up several feet, evidently terrified of Andy’s threat. Andy had no idea how to activate the amulet that summoned the Dingonek, but he didn’t want them to know that.

  “Rusty, Betty, Dotty, Abigail, if you could help, please, I’d appreciate it,” Andy called.

  His friends exited their cells, wide-eyed and impressed with Andy’s feat of courage. In spite of his weak condition, Rusty quickly gathered the pistols, keeping one and tossing the others to Betty and Dotty.

  Andy nodded and ducked into his cell, eager to get his dry clothes back on. He shivered violently as he pulled on his shirt, trousers, and jacket. Inside, he felt triumphant. He’d accomplished something that had been nearly impossible!

  While Rusty ushered the guards into one of the cells, Betty and Dotty found an old lock. The twins gagged and bound the prisoners with tattered rags that they’d discovered in a couple of old barrels, then locked the cell door.

  Abigail rushed over to Andy and threw her arms around his neck.

  “That was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen anyone do in my whole life,” she whispered. “I’m glad you made it.”

  Then, suddenly, she kissed his cheek, and Andy felt all the coldness disappear as a warm glow suffused his cheeks.

  Fortunately, the guards had left the door through which they’d entered unlocked. Andy knew Rusty was too weak to lead the group, so he volunteered to be first through the door.

  “Stay close,” he said. The others nodded. Perhaps it was because of the courage he’d shown when confronting the Dingonek, but the others seemed to sense a change in him and didn’t question his leadership.

  As they opened the heavy wooden door and went cautiously through, Andy wished again that he had his Zoomwriter. He wondered where it was. Did the Potentate have it locked away in her private chambers? Or was it lying in a box somewhere with all their other belongings?