The Guardians of Island X

by Rachelle Delaney

  “Captain?”

  Scarlet pulled herself back to the present. It was the morning after Operation Island Espionage, and Jem was squinting up at her from the grass, where he sat with his quill poised over his map. Several other crew members sat with him, all eyes on Scarlet.

  “Um?”

  “The King’s Men’s camp. It was about here?” He pointed to a spot east of the skull and crossbones that represented the pirates’ camp. Both he and Tim had come across the Dark Ranger’s camp while Scarlet was off having a McCray family reunion.

  “Sure, that looks about right.” She shrugged.

  Jem frowned. “It’s just that with cartography ‘about right’ isn’t good enough. You have to be very accurate…”

  “Perfect, then. It’s perfect,” Scarlet snapped.

  Jem looked surprised. “All right, all right,” he muttered and drew a large crown on the map.

  “That looks jolly,” said Tim. “But what do we do now? Are we actually going to attack them?”

  “Sure, why not?” Smitty piped up. “If you haven’t noticed, I’ve become rather skilled with a bow and arrow.”

  Scarlet gave him a tired look. Smitty’s arrow couldn’t hit the broadside of the Hop.

  “And we won’t be alone!” Ronagh added. “The pigs’ll help. Scarlet gave them my letter, right, Scarlet?”

  “Oh. Well, um…” Scarlet hadn’t actually gotten around to delivering the letter yet, partly because she’d had other things on her mind and partly because she didn’t want to pester the pigs.

  “What’d they say, anyway?” Liam asked.

  “They—uh—” Scarlet stammered, then sighed. “Look, Ro, I haven’t delivered it yet. But I will. I just don’t know…” Blimey, she thought, if there were a medal for Worst Leader Ever, I’d be wearing it today.

  Ronagh’s face fell. “You don’t think it’ll work? You think it’s a bad letter?” She blinked hard.

  Oh no, Scarlet thought. No tears. I can’t deal with tears today. “Your letter’s jolly, Ro. I’m sure it’ll work. I’m just waiting…for a good time.”

  “Uh-huh.” Ronagh didn’t look convinced.

  “Speaking of the pigs”—Jem looked up from his map—“did you know they were actually domestic in the Old World? The King’s Men brought them here not long ago.”

  Scarlet looked down at him. “So?”

  “Well, I was thinking that maybe that’s where they learned English,” Jem suggested.

  Liam laughed. “That’s a good one, Fitz. And maybe they learned to read compasses and sail schooners, too.”

  Cheeks red, Jem turned back to his map. “I think it’s a rather good theory.”

  “All right,” Scarlet broke in. “I have an idea.” She didn’t really. She just wanted to distract Liam and Jem from an argument and Ronagh from her sniffles. “Ronagh, I’ll need your help. Liam, too.”

  “What for?” Ronagh wiped her nose on her sleeve.

  “To…” Scarlet paused, thinking fast. “To see if there’s some way we can hide the aras.” It wasn’t a great mission, but it couldn’t hurt.

  “Okay.” Ronagh shrugged, and Liam climbed to his feet.

  Minutes later they were standing beneath the ara rookery, watching sparkles of red through the leaves.

  “Just as I thought,” said Scarlet. “They’re too easy to spot. A pirate could find those rubies in the dark.”

  “Or a King’s Man,” Ronagh added. Scarlet cringed, thinking of her father.

  Ronagh tapped her chin. “Maybe we can make a huge curtain with palm leaves.”

  Liam snorted. “We might as well put up a big sign that says ‘Guess What’s Behind Door Number One?’” Ronagh poked him in the stomach. “Ow!” He reached for one of her braids just as someone came crashing through the bushes behind them. They all turned to see Emmett, panting and flushed.

  “A King’s Man,” he puffed. “Headed this way.”

  “Already?” Scarlet cried. “I mean, what did he look like?”

  Emmett paused to think. “Um…he wore a blue coat?”

  “Forget it. I’ll go look. You warn the crew.”

  “We’ll come with you!” said Ronagh.

  Scarlet hesitated. If it was indeed the admiral, she couldn’t have her friends witnessing a father-daughter exchange. But if it wasn’t him, well, it would be nice to have some backup.

  “All right. Which way?”

  Emmett pointed, then ran for the clearing.

  They tiptoed through the jungle, and with every step Scarlet grew more and more certain that the intruder was her father. She could feel his presence in her bones, just the way she used to when she lived with Scary Mary and would lie awake at night, listening for the sound of his footsteps on the stairs when he returned home for a visit.

  “You two, go that way.” She pointed to the left. “If you see him heading toward the aras, distract him. I’ll go this way.”

  Ronagh and Liam headed left, and Scarlet continued on, sneaking through the bushes until she spotted him.

  It was indeed Admiral McCray, looking just as sour as the day before.

  “Father,” Scarlet greeted him, slipping out of the trees.

  He jumped, and for an instant his face brightened before he scowled again. “Scarlet,” he snapped, “I don’t like this one bit. I won’t have my daughter living like a…a…”

  “A what?” Scarlet asked. “An Islander?” He shut his mouth. “Come on. You can’t be here.” She led him back down the path the way he’d come.

  “Why not?” he asked, jogging to keep up with her. “You’re my daughter. I have a right to see how you live. And with whom.”

  Scarlet grunted. He certainly hadn’t given a fig about how she lived after they’d left the island. Or with whom.

  “Daughter.” He reached for her shoulder, and she turned to face him, hands on her hips. He looked flustered, as if realizing that commanding the King’s Men had nothing on commanding a twelve-year-old girl. “I must know what you’ve been doing these past years. You must tell me.”

  Scarlet swallowed and looked away. “Fine. I’ve been…” Now she had to choose her words carefully. “I’ve been leading a crew.”

  “A crew,” he repeated. “A crew of…”

  “Children.”

  “Children,” he said. “No parents?”

  “Uh-uh.” Scarlet felt a tiny twinge of guilt for leaving out the crucial details. Did that count as lying? she wondered. And did it even matter? The Lost Souls’ most important rule was that their identity must be kept a secret from the rest of the world. That didn’t change, even if Lucas had spilled the beans to his new crew. Or if one of them was reuniting with a long-lost parent. She went on to tell him that her crew’s mission was to protect Island X—skipping over the part about terrorizing the ships of both pirates and King’s Men.

  Then she shook her finger at him. “But you can’t tell anyone.”

  Admiral McCray opened his mouth as if to protest, then shut it, looking put out. Finally he asked, “Are there…Islanders in your crew?”

  Surprised, Scarlet shook her head. “Of course not.”

  The admiral frowned and looked at the ground.

  They walked in silence for several minutes, he staring at the dirt and she at the tree canopy. Morning light was weaving through the leaves, bathing the birds and bugs in sunshine. The admiral looked up now and then to steal glances at Scarlet, but she pretended not to notice.

  When he finally spoke, his voice was softer. “How long have you been living here?”

  “A…while,” Scarlet said carefully.

  “And you’re camped in that clearing back there?”

  She nodded. Then a thought occurred to her. “Do you remember the place all the Islanders used to visit?” she asked. “It was a special place, with a certain feeling…”

  He looked blank.

  “Oh, you must remember it,” she insisted. “The grown-ups would harvest spices, and the children would play, and ther
e was this particular feeling…”

  His shook his head.

  “But you used to—”

  “I don’t remember it,” the admiral interrupted firmly.

  Maddening grown-up, Scarlet thought. She pressed on. “How could you forget? And while we’re on the topic, how could you go and camp in our old village?”

  The admiral threw his hands up. “I just forgot! I’d completely forgotten what the old village looked like until you appeared and reminded me.”

  Studying his face, Scarlet knew he was telling the truth. And it occurred to her that had she not worked so hard to reconnect with the island herself, she might not have recognized the village site, either. That made her even more annoyed.

  “Well…why did you bring your men here in the first place?” she asked. “I mean, you must have known where you were going. Couldn’t you have picked another island?”

  “Perhaps you’ve forgotten, Scarlet,” he said, “that I’m not ultimately in charge. I take orders, too. And I was ordered to bring the men here to scout for wood and spices and…whatever else we could find.”

  “Well,” she sputtered, “couldn’t you have, I don’t know, steered them off course? That’s what I’d—”

  She stopped as an intense feeling of distress cut through her brain. Panicky, like that pesky monkey. Well, he’d just have to wait.

  “I hope you’re aware that there are pirates around,” said the admiral.

  “Oh, we know,” she replied, then realized that he might have useful information. “Are your men keeping an eye on them?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Although I doubt they’re much of a threat to us. Not with old Captain What’s-his-name in charge.”

  In spite of herself and the situation, Scarlet smiled. “He’s a few barrels short of a rum run. Thinks he’s as tall as his name is long.”

  For what was likely the first time in years, the corners of Admiral McCray’s mouth twisted into the tiniest smile. “And he squints,” he added. “As if someone stole his spectacles.”

  Scarlet gasped, forgetting her reservations at the sight of that smile. “You’re right! We did it ourselves, the time we raided the Dark Ranger to save Fitz. Pinched ’em right off his snout. Now Tim wears them every day and…” Scarlet stopped when she saw her father’s look of confusion. Scurvy! She could have kicked herself. “I mean…the time we raided their camp. To…save Fitz. Yes, he got himself captured, the clumsy oaf. But we saved him, no problem. Barely took a minute.”

  “You raided their camp?” Admiral McCray’s mouth fell back into a frown. “What were you thinking?”

  This is precisely why no grown-ups are allowed, Scarlet thought, rolling her eyes.

  “Don’t roll your eyes at me. This isn’t a game. You and your little friends might have been safe on this island until now, but—”

  “Father,” Scarlet interrupted, “we know how to fend for ourselves.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. I’ve been taking care of myself for three years.”

  He opened his mouth to argue again, then shut it. They walked on in silence.

  Finally he said, “Apparently the pirates think there’s treasure on the island. Rubies or something.”

  Scarlet tried to look disinterested. “You don’t say.”

  “Treasure. Hmph.” Her father frowned harder. “I personally wouldn’t care if there were a hundred treasures here. I’d move us out tomorrow if I could.”

  Before Scarlet could jump in and encourage him to do just that, the creature in distress barged back into her brain. She rubbed her temples. Deal with your brother yourself, Monkey, she tried to tell him. I’ve got my own family matters to take care of.

  She watched her father trudge along beside her. He was being an old boar, no doubt about it. But when he’d smiled just now, he’d been the old father, if only for a second. Maybe, deep down, he could still remember?

  Scarlet drew a breath. “When I came to this island, I couldn’t remember it, either. But then I searched inside myself, and everything started coming back to me. I remembered the village and the clearing. And I remembered my mother, too. I’d actually forgotten what she looked like.”

  The admiral swallowed hard and said nothing, so Scarlet pressed on.

  “And you, too, Father. I remembered how I used to sit with you while you carved the Islanders’ boats, and you’d make me those little wooden stars. You must remember that.”

  When he finally spoke, his voice sounded strangled. “I don’t remember.”

  Scarlet stopped. “Oh, come on—”

  “I don’t. And what’s more, I don’t want to.”

  “Well, I…” She couldn’t believe it. “You don’t have to be such a grump about it! I think it’s just awful that you won’t even try when—”

  “Not another word,” he commanded. “I must go see to my men.”

  “Fine then!” Scarlet cried. “Go!”

  “Oh no! Not this time. You’re coming with me.”

  “I most certainly am not!”

  Scarlet tried to stare him down while mentally composing a list of all the things she’d rather do than go anywhere with him: 1) Eat an entire plate of raw oysters. 2) Memorize the Latin names of every plant on Island X. 3) Clean the long drop for an entire year. 4)…

  Suddenly he stepped back as if he’d seen something truly frightening. “Fine. Fine then. I have to leave.” And he swung around and hurried off the way he’d come.

  Scarlet had just turned to look behind her, wondering what could have possibly scared him off, when she was filled with a feeling of panic like none she’d ever felt.

  She pressed her hand to her forehead. Either the entire jungle was upset, or this was one powerful creature. “Shivers,” she whispered.

  That’s when she heard the noise. The last noise she would have expected to hear on Island X.

  The crack of a gun.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  When Emmett dashed through camp with the news of the approaching King’s Man, Jem waited to hear Scarlet’s commands come thundering across the clearing. They didn’t. On his second lap around the clearing, Emmett added that she’d gone ahead on her own to investigate the intruder.

  “What do we do?” Edwin cried.

  “Should we hide?” Elmo asked.

  The rest of the crew began to fumble for their weapons.

  Jem swallowed hard. Once again, the Lost Souls were seriously in need of direction. He quickly assessed the situation and concluded that there wasn’t a soul in camp capable of giving it. He swallowed again. It would have to be him.

  “Everybody just…calm down,” he said in his best take-charge voice. A few Lost Souls actually stopped and looked at him. “Um…” Jem racked his brain for the next confident-sounding thing to say. “Let’s…ask the pigs for help?”

  The Lost Souls nodded and kept looking at him.

  “Oh. You want me to do it?”

  “You’ve talked to them before, haven’t you?” said Elmo.

  “Well, yes. Good point.”

  Jem sniffed hard, picked up a scent, and followed it toward the rookery, where he found a wrinkly, hairy, and very smelly wild pig.

  It wasn’t the chief, to whom Jem had spoken once before, but he decided to give it a go. He hoped all pigs were equally well versed in English. He assumed the same tone that had worked for him the last time.

  “Sir. The King’s Men are invading our camp, sir. I know that you pigs want nothing to do with them, and frankly we don’t, either, but I’m not sure we can fight them off without you…sir.” Jem looked anxiously at the boar, who grumbled, smacked his lips, then ambled off into the jungle.

  Moments later the pig chief emerged. Jem repeated his plea, adding a few more sirs and even one Your Excellency, hoping that if the pig had learned English in the Old World, he’d appreciate this. The chief snorted and sniffed, then let out a tremendous belch.

  “Yikes,” Jem said. He didn’t have Scarlet to translate, but he was
fairly certain that meant “No.” Now they’d need another plan. He ran back to camp, where everyone was still fumbling with their weapons.

  “Where are the pigs?” Sam asked.

  Jem shook his head. “I don’t think they’re coming.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Are you sure you asked the right way?” asked Edwin. “The way Scarlet does?”

  Jem threw up his hands. “I know how to talk to the pigs! I did it in the first place. And I could tell the chief wasn’t interested.”

  “So what now?” asked Sam.

  “I say we get ready to ambush.” Smitty hoisted his bow up on his shoulder.

  Jem didn’t want to put his faith in the Deadly Parrot of Death’s archery skills, but he didn’t have a better plan. “All right,” he said reluctantly. “Emmett, which way did you come from?”

  Emmett pointed, just as a deafening blast caused everyone to gasp.

  “Was that…?” Sam puffed.

  “Sounded like a musket.” Tim straightened his spectacles and pointed to the right. “Over that way, I think.”

  Jem’s stomach flipped. “The way Scarlet went?”

  “And Ronagh and Liam!” cried Emmett. “What do we do?”

  “We’ve got to go make sure they’re safe.”

  The Lost Souls agreed that this was a good idea, but no one moved.

  Jem gulped. “All right, follow me, then.” And he set off for the edge of the clearing, hoping that they’d follow. What good could he do by himself? A moment later, he heard soft footsteps behind him and turned to see Elmo a few feet behind.

  “I’m with ya,” Elmo said.

  “Thanks.” Jem glanced back at the rest of the Lost Souls, who were straightening their trousers and retying their bootlaces, obviously stalling. “So much for strength in numbers.” He started off again, Elmo stepping in his boot prints.

  They hadn’t even reached the edge of the jungle when Ronagh came flying out of it, one hand covering her mouth.

  “Ronagh! What is it?” Jem reached out to grab her sleeve.