Faint screams echoed in the cavern, sounding from above, high over their heads on the topside of the cavern. The clanging of metal on metal was distant, but audible. They all jolted as the muted noise of a pistol firing reverberated through the thick stone and down toward them.
Locks said. “The battle’s begun. And it be right overhead.”
“We need to hurry,” Ebba said, body tense. “Cosmo needs us, and the tribe.” But there was no way for them to move the boat along without oars. They were trapped here.
A beaming light illuminated their boat and Ebba craned her head to see upward, blinking at the sudden brightness.
“Would ye look at that hole up there in the cavern ceilin’,” Peg-leg whispered. “That wasn’t there a minute ago, was it?”
“No,” Barrels said, frowning. “We would have noticed the moonlight before now.”
Ebba tilted her head as a deep rumbling sound came from far, far beneath them. The rumbling was coming from under the boat. The river water surrounding them bubbled angrily. The growling roar grew steadily louder, and the boat pitched up and down on the spot.
“The water be turnin’ to mud,” Grubby whispered, peering over the side. “Ouch!” A speck of it landed on his arm. “Hot, hot, hot.”
Mud flecks were flying everywhere, thrown up by the pressure underneath. The roar grew, and Ebba got the sense that a very large something was about to crash into them.
“Geyser,” Stubby shouted.
Plank gripped the side. “I think this be the part where we hold on, lads.”
Ebba yelled as their boat was shot three feet into the air by the geyser before they slapped back down. The boat pitched side to side, and it was all she could do to cling out.
The roaring sped toward them from below with the force of a tidal wave, growing louder until Ebba wanted to release her hold on the boat’s side and cover her ears.
“It’s coming,” someone cried out.
“Hold on!” Stubby yelled to her left.
She screamed as the roaring mud geyser struck the underside of the boat. Her stomach shot into her boots as they were catapulted high. Impossibly high. Where was the roof of the cavern? Working to straighten against the intense force shooting them upward, Ebba tipped her head back to peer above. The top of the cave was drawing nearer. They were shooting toward the full moon and spattering of stars she could glimpse through the hole in the ceiling. At least Ebba hoped that’s where they were hurtling to. She screamed as they were propelled closer to the top, clutching the side of the rowboat. Her fathers’ shouts of alarm reached her ears, and Ebba shifted her eyes to squint back down.
She blanched. The luscious fields were far below. The rabbits mere dots. Abruptly, the sound changed from echoing to rushing, and Ebba stared at the black rock wiping past her eyes, realizing they were moving through a vertical tunnel in the cavern ceiling—a hole to the world above.
The rushing sound heightened as they approached the end of the tunnel. Then all sound was gone aside from the slapping of the geyser on the bottom of the vessel. They were projected from the underground cavern.
Rock and darkness were replaced by shadowed tree trunks and a luminous night sky high above them. They were back above ground. Her ears popped with the change in pressure.
Mud flew around them, flung out of the chute from the geyser three hundred feet below.
Then the pounding on the underside of the boat stopped. She shared a baffled look with Grubby at the sudden silence. She glanced over the side and saw the hole to the cavern below them, shrinking in diameter before her very eyes.
. . . The powerful geyser shooting them upward had retreated.
The boat containing the pirates of Felicity floated for a few seconds before the feeling in her stomach flipped from her boots to her throat.
They were dropping!
Stubby roared, “Abandon ship.”
In a tangle of chaos, they threw themselves over the side of the boat. Ebba caught her shin on the edge and went head over heels, flying for a few seconds before landing on her back.
Wheezing, she rolled over and watched as the white boat they’d abandoned disappeared back through the large hole in the grass that led back to the cavern underneath. The last of the mud fell back through, and a delighted feminine laugh echoed through the earth toward them.
In the blink of an eye, the hole closed, the boat and mud gone; the grass pristine as though nothing had ever happened.
Ebba rolled the other way with a moan.
They were back in the tribal village, behind the marae. Ebba patted herself to make sure she was in one piece, her fingers brushing the purgium. “What just happened?”
Barrels stood with a grimace, rubbing his back. “I’m goin’ to be rather sore tomorrow.”
Her other fathers were groaning, clambering to their feet, clutching various aching body parts.
“We were just shot through a cavern ceilin’ by a mud geyser of epic size,” Locks said, scanning their faces.
Ebba nodded.
“Just checkin’,” he said.
A pistol fired from the right, and they hushed, limping behind the prison where her fathers had been locked up.
Ebba crouched with her fathers, listening.
A series of ringing clangs and booming shots were coming from the north. Indiscernible yelling and bellowed commands drifted close behind. The taniwha had said Malice would come from that direction. Had the three warriors from the cavern arrived back in time to warn the tribe? How long had the fighting been going on? They’d set out before sundown, and Ebba knew more than two hours had passed for night to be set in as it was.
She wanted to help the tribe, but Cosmo needed her. “Come on,” she said, staggering to her feet. They’d heal Cosmo and then help the tribe fight.
“Where is he?” Peg-leg said, peering through the darkness.
A mass of torches appeared ahead of them, on the other side of the marae, by the tribe’s housing. There had to be at least twenty of the fiery beacons moving up and down, as though held by people who were running—or searching. War cries echoed from all directions. It was impossible to tell if the people were tribe or pirate.
Ebba jabbed a thumb at the group of bobbing flames. “Through there.”
Peg-leg sighed. “O’ course.”
Twenty
They crept to the corner of the marae, pistols cocked.
“What does that look like to ye, lads?” Stubby asked.
Peg-leg squinted. “My eyesight ain’t what it used to be.”
Stubby peered out. Ebba and Grubby did the same. There were more than twenty torches, now that the marae wasn’t blocking their view of the tribal huts.
The bearers of the torches were weaving between the huts. She tightened her hold on her pistol.
“I can’t see which side they belong to,” Stubby said after a minute. “They’re holdin’ the torches high.”
They shrank down as footsteps pounded from their right. There was an almighty cry, and Ebba sucked in a breath as a warrior erupted out of the marae, throwing a spear at one of the torchbearers. The spear sliced through the person’s chest with a firm thud, and the person toppled over.
“Pirates,” Ebba hissed. “Some o’ them got past.”
“Or just went the other way,” Barrels observed. “They seem to be coming from the south, not the north as the taniwha said.” He pointed toward where Cosmo was supposed to be resting.
There were two other pirates ahead, and one held a pistol to the warrior’s head. Ebba swallowed and a cry lodged in her throat as Peg-leg and Locks moved out from behind her.
Each had a pistol, and both fired at the two remaining pirates.
Ebba jumped as one of the pirates fell to the ground immediately, a smoking hole in his gut. The other clutched his knee in agony, still very much alive.
Peg-leg gave Locks a look, who shrugged. “I haven’t killed anyone in eighteen years. I didn’t want to mess up my streak.”
&nbs
p; The pirate clutching his knee with both hands tripped and fell forward onto the upturned end of his dead comrade’s cutlass. The sharp tip extended through his back and he stilled.
“That doesn’t count,” Locks blurted.
The warrior wrenched his spear from the pirate’s chest and nodded at them before setting his eyes to the other torch-wielding invaders weaving between the huts. He couldn’t be serious about taking them all on? They probably wouldn’t get a choice. The torches were bobbing toward them, drawn by the pistol shots.
Ebba rushed out from the shadows of the marae. “Ye need to tell the chief there be pirates in the village.”
“I cannot,” the warrior said. She didn’t recognize him. “The women and children are in the huts.”
“Ye didn’t leave warriors here?” she said in exasperation.
“We did, Rangatira. They are dead.”
“Ye need to get more of yer tribespeople,” Ebba said.
“But who will protect the village?”
“We will, ye codfish,” she hissed at him. “Go now.”
The warrior dipped his head. “Ae, Rangatira. As you command.” He slipped off into the darkness.
Locks swooped down on the felled pirates to pillage their six guns. Their crew crossed the grass strip between the marae and the closest hut to take refuge underneath, using the stilts for cover.
The torchbearer reached the marae, and the presence of crimson sashes confirmed the group were pirates from Malice. Was that all of them? Ebba scanned the huts at her back but couldn’t see more torches. They’d all converged here.
One of the Malice pirates crouched behind his dead crewmates.
“They’re dead,” shouted the pirate to another with a bicorn hat. “There be savages here.”
The pirate wearing the bicorn hat stared down at the three dead. Ebba could barely make out his silhouette. “Split into groups and start goin’ through the huts. Start with this one.” He faced the marae. “It looks important-like. They’ve probably hid it in there.”
“There be too many of them,” Plank said, shifting behind one of the wooden pillars under the hut.
“Aye, and I need to get to Cosmo,” Ebba said, looking over her shoulder to where his hut was on the outskirts of the tribe village.
“How long does he have?” Barrels asked. “How was he when you last saw him?”
“He was screamin’ in an endless nightmare,” she answered, voice low. “Jagger said it was okay as long as he were screamin’. The screamin’ ended when I came to free ye all.” They couldn’t waste any more time getting the purgium to her friend.
The amassed Malice pirates split into three groups. Two of the groups strode back toward the huts. One of them passed close to where their crew was pressed against the stilts. They moved past Ebba and the others, none the wiser, walking farther into the rows of huts.
The other group disappeared into the marae.
“Shite,” Plank said, his eyes tracking the three groups. “That ain’t good.”
“I have an idea,” Locks said, staring at the marae. He jerked his head. “That thing don’t have any windows, does it?”
“Nay,” Ebba said, heart pounding. Where were the women and children? Was Aroha somewhere? They weren’t making any noise. Had they escaped into the trees or were they trapped in the huts?
“Got the dynami, Grubby?” Locks asked.
“Aye, ye want it?”
“Just for a smidge. Cover me.” Locks took the dynami and, with a careful look around him, snuck across to the marae and up the two steps. Ebba and the others inched forward, pistols drawn and ready to help if need be.
She whispered to Peg-leg, “What’s he doin’?”
Standing to one side of the marae doorway, Locks clasped the dynami in one hand and reached up with the other to grip the huge taniwha carving adorning the entrance. The one that looked as though it took ten people to put it up. He tugged and the huge carving tore off, splinters falling to the ground. Losing no time and gripping the massive carving as though it was stick, Locks jammed the carving over the doorway. The piece was taller than the entrance, though not wide enough to cover the full width. Locks pushed gently and, with a groan, the carving wedged into the doorway, busting through the top of the door to accommodate its height.
“He’s trapping them inside.” Barrels grinned.
Shouting was coming from inside the marae, and Locks pushed the carving in a bit more. The group of Malice pirates within threw themselves against the piece to no avail. They slid their arms out the sides, but the spaces were too small to get any more of their bodies free. Someone slid their pistol through and Locks plucked the pistol from the pirate as though he were a toddler.
“Porrey-porrey will be glad to’ve been useful,” Stubby said, nodding his head at the taniwha carving.
Ebba doubted that.
The group of Malice pirates who’d disappeared past them were running back.
“Get back,” Ebba called in a low voice to Locks.
He jogged back over to them and handed the dynami to Grubby, who tucked it back into his sash.
“We’ve got company. Back to the hut,” Stubby said.
They stepped back into the protection of the hut’s stilts. “Just one o’ the groups?” Peg-leg asked.
Plank tilted his head. “Aye, sounds like. But not after we fire a pistol.”
Shadows burst from the hut behind them, and hearing her fathers’ pistols go off, Ebba aimed at one of the shapes and fired. Her heart thundering as the person crumpled to the ground.
She’d killed someone. Ebba stared numbly at the dark form.
Two of the pirates sprinted away, shouting for the others. The rest were systematically taken down by her fathers as she stood numbly by. Soon, only one pirate remained. He spun back and hid behind a pillar of the hut opposite.
“Cat and mouse?” Barrels asked Grubby.
“Aye,” Grubby said. Taking aim, he fired to the left of the pillar. Barrels cocked his weapon and when the shadow dashed to the right, he fired. The Malice pirate shouted and fell to the ground.
“Stay here, Ebba,” Locks said, running past with Plank and Stubby to collect the pirates’ pistols.
She wasn’t going anywhere. The pirate she’d shot down still occupied her full attention.
Peg-leg ushered her forward after a time. “We need to move now. The other group would’ve heard that.”
“Right, aye,” she whispered, shaking her head.
They kept to the shadows, running toward the outskirts of the village on the riverside of the tribal lands.
“Cosmo’s hut be down the end,” she called softly.
A burst of battle cries rose in a wall behind them.
“The tribe is here,” Stubby said, relief evident in his tone.
Pistols fired at their backs as those of Malice’s crew within the village realized the same. At least that would distract the remaining group of pirates they hadn’t taken out from following them to Cosmo’s hut.
“Lead the way, Ebba-Viva,” Locks said, standing back.
She burst into a run, keeping her pistol out in case of company. There could well be others close by. Her fathers panted behind her, trying their best to keep up.
Plank was right behind her when she took the steps to Cosmo’s hut two at a time and burst through the open entrance.
The room was empty.
“Where is he?” Plank panted.
“I left him right here,” she said, searching the vacant bed in a panic. “With Jagger.”
“That slimy—”
A knock came from the underside of the floor. Ebba and Plank shared a glance and ran out of the house and down the stairs.
Her other fathers had already discovered Cosmo and Jagger underneath the house. Ebba pushed through their midst and dropped to her knees. A sound of horror escaped her lips. “Is he . . . gone?” The ground seemed to disappear beneath her for a second.
Jagger crouched in the shadows by
Cosmo’s head. At some point, he’d changed back into his Malice uniform. Already preparing to desert them, by the looks. “Nay. But close.”
Ebba sagged in relief, but she couldn’t get over the change in her friend from three hours before. Cosmo’s eyes were wide open and unmoving. His jaw was clenched, but it was as though his mouth couldn’t open to scream.
Loud clanging sounded from the direction of the marae, metal meeting metal, but Ebba couldn’t focus on any of that now. Stubby and Grubby had their pistols drawn and aimed into the darkness.
Peg-leg hunkered down on one knee and made to grip Cosmo’s hand. Jagger batted him away. “Don’t touch him. The taint will be everywhere on him now.” He pulled the wood carving out of his sash and used it to lift Cosmo’s tunic. Ebba moaned.
His chest was nearly solid black, flooded with the taint that had been working toward his heart for weeks.
“Did ye get it?” Jagger asked Ebba, tucking the carving away.
“Aye.”
Jagger stared down at Cosmo, and dual emotions wrestled for top spot on his face. His fist curled tight and he swore, whirling away.
“What’s corkin’ his grog?” Stubby asked.
“He can’t decide if he wants Cosmo dead or not. He won’t say why.” Ebba freed the purgium from her belt, but paused with it over Cosmo’s chest. “The Earth Mother. She said the greater the injury, the greater the sacrifice. The black be everywhere. What will it take?”
Jagger’s voice came to her through the shadows. “He’ll give anythin’ to be freed from where he is.”
“Ye’re sure?” Ebba asked. Sacrifice was so vague. Would it take money? Or his first born?
Cosmo’s chest began to rattle, and she stopped thinking.
Unsure of how to go about it, Ebba ended up simply pressing the purgium over his heart. She whispered, “Heal Cosmo. Please get rid o’ the taint.”
An invisible hand picked her up and batted her away like a fly. She let out a muffle oof and rolled off of Jagger, not bothering with an apology. Each of her fathers had been scattered across the grassy ground, and Cosmo. . . .
The purgium stuck upright from his chest. It was as though the glowing object was sucking up the black like a person sucking water through a river reed. A dark cloud hovered around his body. Cosmo’s back arched off the ground and then lowered with each dragging pull of the object.
Ebba-Viva Fairisles: Stolen Princess (Pirates of Felicity Book 2) Page 23