Blimey, thought Scarlet, I’m going to miss tomorrow’s lesson. I should have asked Sina for a dozen words to practice by myself. Now I’ll be behind, and I’ll—
“We’ll be back tomorrow afternoon,” Jem reminded her, appearing at her side. “And nothing will have changed.”
She shook herself back to the present. “Right. Yes. I know.”
Jem handed her some nuts he’d brought along with him. “If you don’t mind my saying, Captain,” he said, “sometimes it’s best to stop thinking and just…do.”
Scarlet gulped down her nuts. He was right, as usual. She had a mission to complete. It was time to act like a captain.
She looked around. “Emmett and Edwin, weigh anchor!” she yelled at the twins. “Tim, take the wheel, and, Smit, mind the mast. Liam, this deck looks like bilge—swab it quick, will you? And, Fitz?” She turned to him. “Check the ropes for frays, and replace the worst ones.”
Jem nodded and saluted. “Yes, Captain!” He set off to check the ropes.
Good old Fitz, she thought, watching the boy march off in his surprisingly clean trousers and boots. What would I do without him?
Soon they were out in the open ocean, sailing east toward Port Aberhard, away from the setting sun. Scarlet took a deep breath of cool, salty air, then another. Life on board the Hop wasn’t so bad. In fact, it had been a jolly home for two years, just when she’d needed it most. She owed all she knew about being a pirate to this old boat and its crew.
She ran her hand along the weathered railing, suddenly ashamed at having neglected the Hop. Tim was constantly pointing out new holes in her sides and rips in her mast. “Thank you,” Scarlet whispered, patting the railing.
She walked across the main deck and up to the fo’c’sle, leaning over the edge to watch a pair of glowing jellyfish bobbing in the water below. Then she dug around in her pocket for Uncle Finn’s old spyglass and pressed it to her eye, scanning the horizon for approaching ships.
“See anything?” Tim yelled from the ship’s wheel, where he studied a map and compass.
“Not a speck, Swig,” Scarlet called back. Tim’s love of nautical books and maps had earned him the nickname “Drivelswigger,” or “Swig” for short. “Too bad—it would have been a nice night for a ship raid.”
“Doubt we’ll be able to get away with raiding anymore, Captain,” Tim replied, and Scarlet lowered the spyglass. She’d forgotten, but Tim was right.
The legend of the Ship of Lost Souls had begun some ten years before, when a ship had set out carrying a class of geography students and schoolmasters from a port school. They’d gotten themselves lost in a hurricane, and when they eventually found their way home, they learned that not only had they been presumed dead, but that sailors who spotted their ship believed it to be haunted by ghosts. They called it The Ship of Lost Souls.
Instead of setting them straight, the children decided to play along, dressing up like ghouls in long, black cloaks and swooping down on the ships of pirates and King’s Men when they needed food or supplies. The ship soon became a magnet for children orphaned in the tropics or running away from boarding schools or ships—or, in Scarlet’s case, home.
“The legend had a good run,” said Edwin, joining her and Tim at the wheel.
“Suppose it had to die sooner or later.” Emmett sighed.
Scarlet grunted. “It’d still be alive and well if it weren’t for that dog Lucas Lawrence, leaving to join a ‘real’ pirate ship.” She still couldn’t help but sneer whenever she thought of her former crew member.
“He’s a bilge rat,” said Emmett.
“A scurvy swine,” Tim spat.
Scarlet nodded. Those were the only ways to describe someone who’d not only defected from the Lost Souls but told his new crew the Lost Souls’ secret. Now everyone knew that they were just children. Brave and strong and clever children, of course, but children nonetheless.
“Wonder what old Lucas is up to now,” said Edwin.
“No good,” Scarlet answered with complete certainty. Lucas had taken off with Uncle Finn’s map, so he knew exactly where the treasure was. He and his new crew from the Dark Ranger had tried to steal it once and would certainly try again soon. It was just a matter of time. “Can we hurry?” she asked Tim.
He frowned at her over his spectacles.
“Sorry,” she muttered. Sometimes a good captain had to know when to leave her quartermaster to do his job.
She picked up the spyglass again and forced herself to not look back at Island X. Instead she looked forward, at their destination, where she’d soon be meeting her father. These father-daughter meetings truly scuttled, but she’d take Jem’s advice and stop thinking about them. She’d just answer her father’s questions and assure him that all was well on Island X. Then she’d be back on board the Hop and sailing home in no time.
She reached out and tapped the wooden railing for good luck. Just in case.
“Smit, quit splashing me,” Liam complained.
“Splashing? Who’s splashing?” Smitty said innocently. After dropping anchor in the bay near Port Aberhard, they had all piled into their dinghy to row ashore. Smitty had insisted he take the oars.
“Argh! He did it again! Scarlet!”
“Shh. Quiet, Liam,” Scarlet whispered. The last thing they needed was the attention of some pirates or King’s Men. “One more time, Leander, and I’m tossing you overboard,” she warned Smitty.
“Then who would row us to port?” said Smitty. Despite the darkness, Scarlet could tell he was grinning.
“Me,” Edwin volunteered.
“I’d do it,” said Tim.
“Or me,” Jem offered.
“Oh, so I’m that replaceable, am I?” Smitty tsked. “Fine then, I’ll just—”
“Argh! Again!” Liam cried as Smitty’s oar flicked seawater up into his face. “That’s it! I’m gonna pound you!”
“Liam, sit down, you’re rocking the boat!” Scarlet commanded.
“Hey!” A voice shouted from nearby. The crew froze, then slowly looked to the right, where a grizzled old sailor stood in a rowboat, holding up a lantern. “What’s goin’ on there? Who are ye?”
“Tim!” Scarlet hissed, for she couldn’t very well answer herself.
“Just some cabin boys, sir,” Tim called. “Heading in to port for the night.”
“Well, get on with ye,” the sailor told them. “’Cause I sure ain’t gonna rescue ye when ye capsize.”
“Yes, sir!” Tim called.
Scarlet kicked Smitty. “Row!”
“Bilge rat,” Liam added under his breath, but Smitty pretended he hadn’t heard.
They made it to the docks without capsizing and scrambled out of the boat, which Tim tied to a post. Already Scarlet could hear the raucous sounds of port: shouts and hollers from some drunken pirates, tinny piano music from a nearby tavern, and the crunch of heavy boots on gravel. She tried not to think about the insect and ara orchestra that played all through the night on Island X, lulling everyone to sleep.
“Come on, crew,” she said once they were all up on the dock. “Let’s get this over with.”
The only good thing about being in port was that children were rarely noticed. The pirates were too busy insulting and spitting at one another, and the King’s Men were too busy trying to look important and keep their blue uniforms spotless. Which made it nice and easy for the Lost Souls to nab what they needed and disappear before anyone knew they were there.
“All right.” Scarlet motioned for the crew to duck into an alley, where they huddled in the shadows. “We need some food—Edwin and Emmett, I’ll leave that to you. Jem, get whatever supplies you need to finish the houses. Tim and Liam, you’re on weapons—Charlie and Gil need new daggers. Oh, and some shirts and trousers. Smit, that’ll be your—” She stopped when she caught sight of Smitty’s face. The boy was chewing on his lower lip. “What now?” she growled.
Smitty sighed. “Well, if you must know, I just saw a piece o
f rope, and it reminded me of the way Sina braids her hair some days, and I—”
“Smitty!” Tim threw his hands in the air. “We’re on a port raid! We’ve got things to plunder, pockets to pick! This is no time to be a swoony sea dog!”
“Wait. I know,” Jem said. “Smit, why don’t you find a gift for Sina? You know, something nice. While you’re stealing the other stuff, that is.”
Smitty perked up immediately. “That’s a jolly idea, Fitz. Maybe I’ll get her something for her hair. One of those…clip thingies.”
Scarlet opened her mouth to point out that a gift he’d actually paid for might be more thoughtful, then shook her head. There was no time to argue. “Right. Good luck with that,” she said. “Let’s meet back at the dock in a few hours.”
She put her fist in the middle of their huddle, and the others, who knew the tradition well, piled theirs on top of it. “No prey, no pay, mateys.”
“No prey, no pay!” they echoed.
“May you die peacefully on Island X rather than have your hands chopped off by the merchants you stole from.”
“Die peacefully!”
“Now get going,” said Scarlet. “I’ve got an admiral to meet.”
Scarlet made sure all her hair was tucked inside her cap and pulled it down over her eyes before slipping out of the alley. This way, if one of the King’s Men spotted her father during their meeting, he’d assume the admiral was talking to some scruffy cabin boy and not his long-lost daughter.
She headed down Port Aberhard’s main road, past a tavern packed with rum-soaked pirates singing off-key chanteys. She passed an apothecary’s shop boarded up for the night and sidestepped a pack of rats squealing over scraps outside the door. She could smell the jungle nearby, but its lush scent was overpowered by port smells like sour rum, horse manure, and rotting wood.
If there was one place in the tropics that did not and would never feel like home, it was Port Aberhard. Or any port town, for that matter. Not even Jamestown, where she’d lived for five years, felt remotely like home.
Her father had taken her to Jamestown after the Island Fever came to their village when she was five years old. Scarlet’s mother had begged her father to take her off the island and keep her safe from the disease that was taking many Islander lives—including, eventually, her mother’s. They’d settled in a rickety old boardinghouse, and John McCray had gone back to work for the King’s Men, leaving Scarlet to learn Old World ways from the world’s creepiest governess, whom she called Scary Mary. After five years of English lessons, petticoats, and boots that pinched her toes until she was certain they’d fall off, she decided she’d had enough and ran away to join the Lost Souls.
Even now, port towns made Scarlet’s skin crawl. It wasn’t just the memories of Scary Mary forcing her to forget her past as an Islander that haunted her. It was more than that. The longer she lived on Island X, the more she felt the island’s pain at being torn down and taken apart by the Old Worlders. And nowhere was that more pronounced than in port.
Don’t think about it now, Scarlet told herself. Get to your meeting, then get home to the crew.
Dodging a pair of pirates stumbling toward her, she continued on, looking for the tiny clapboard house her father had described.
Admiral McCray insisted on holding each of their meetings in a secret location—someplace the other King’s Men would never think to look for him. Last time they’d met in the cellar of a tavern, which was freezing cold and crawling with spiders. This time, however, he’d chosen someplace he insisted would be better: Voodoo Miranda’s house.
It stood near the end of the street, squeezed between two ramshackle brick buildings. Scarlet paused out front and swallowed hard. Every window was dark, but that didn’t mean the voodoo queen wasn’t home. She was probably cooking up some potion that would turn an unsuspecting person into a two-headed lizard.
Stop thinking, Scarlet told herself again. Just do. She gathered all the courage she could find, stepped up to the rotting door, and knocked twice.
Even though she’d seen Voodoo Miranda several times over the years, she still jumped when the front door swung open and the woman peered out, baring her crooked teeth. Easily six feet tall, Voodoo Miranda wore a long green dress that glimmered in the light of the twisted black candle she held. She had long, matted black hair that hung down to her waist, and her lips were painted a deep purple.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. Coiled around her left wrist, like a big poisonous bracelet, was a shiny green python. Another snake, this one a striped viper, was nestled in her enormous hair, watching Scarlet closely.
Scarlet took a hasty step back, wiping her sweaty palms on her trousers. She hated snakes, especially the small ones that looked harmless but could kill you with one bite. “Um. Hello.”
Voodoo Miranda squinted at her for a moment. Then her mouth spread into a wide purple smile. “Come in.”
She stepped aside, and Scarlet darted past into a room full of dusty furniture that probably hadn’t been used for years. There were black candles everywhere, and the loose floorboards creaked underfoot. Scarlet couldn’t help but wonder if Voodoo Miranda hid something underneath them. Or someone…
Stop! she told herself. “Um, where am I meeting him?”
“In the kitchen,” said Miranda. “This way.” She led Scarlet down a pitch-dark hallway into another room—this one lit by a single lantern. The kitchen was cluttered with bottles and jars of every size and color, and it smelled like long-dead flowers that had never been tossed out.
“Don’t mind my work,” Voodoo Miranda said, gesturing at some mounds of wax on the table.
“Work?” Scarlet stepped closer. One of the mounds had a distinctly human shape. A voodoo doll, she realized, just as Miranda snatched it up and tucked it into her pocket. She’d heard sailors whisper that if you ever needed to get revenge, Voodoo Miranda could help. She’d whip up a little wax doll that looked just like your enemy in the time it took you to say “scalawag.” Then she’d stick little pins in the doll’s back and ears, and the unfortunate person would be keeling over in pain in no time.
“Sit.” Miranda pointed to a chair, and Scarlet obeyed, finding herself staring into the eyes of a long-dead frog, floating wide-eyed in a jar of yellow liquid. When Miranda wasn’t looking, she quickly turned the jar so the creature was facing away from her.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Miranda said.
“Thanks,” Scarlet said weakly.
“Ah. Think I hear your father,” said Miranda.
“Really? I didn’t hear anything,” Scarlet replied, but Miranda had already slipped back out the door.
“Huh,” Scarlet muttered, peering into a jar on the counter, which appeared to hold several hundred small, green beetles. “What does a voodoo queen eat, anyway?”
Fortunately, before she could find the answer to that question, the door swung open again, and Admiral McCray walked into the room.
“Scarlet!” He stopped and took off his blue cap, a wide smile spreading across his face. She stood up and let him pull her into a warm hug. For the tiniest moment, she even let herself relax, enjoying the feeling of having someone around to take care of her. But then she felt Miranda’s eyes on her back, and she wiggled out of her father’s arms. The voodoo queen was watching them intently, stroking her python’s head.
“Thank you, Miranda,” said the admiral. “We won’t be long.”
Miranda nodded. “There are cookies on the counter if you get hungry.” She narrowed her eyes at Scarlet. “Looks like you could use a good meal.”
“I just ate,” Scarlet said quickly, although it had been several hours since she’d snacked on the nuts Jem had packed. If the jars around the kitchen were any indication of the ingredients Miranda baked with, she’d rather pass.
Miranda shrugged and slipped away again, leaving Scarlet and her father alone.
Even now, it still surprised her to see him. Not that he’d changed much in their time a
part; she’d known him the moment she saw him on Island X, about a month before. He’d arrived with his men, scouting the island for untouched resources, and she’d quickly realized that he’d completely forgotten everything about the island—he didn’t even recognize it as the place he’d called home for years.
“Please, sit down.” He gestured to her chair, and she sat again. He picked up his cap, then set it back down on the table. “So.”
“So,” she said.
“Are the tree houses finished now?”
“Almost,” she replied. “They look jolly—Fitz did a great job.”
“And the garden?”
“Done. Gil took a real shine to weeding and planting. Sina thinks we’ll have squash in a month or so.”
The admiral nodded and fiddled with his cap. “And no sign of that pirate captain…what’s his name again?”
Scarlet shook her head. The Dread Pirate Captain Wallace Hammerstein-Jones led the Dark Ranger, the ship Lucas Lawrence defected to. He was just as treasure hungry as Lucas himself, which meant more trouble for the Lost Souls since Lucas had Uncle Finn’s treasure map. Scarlet tapped her feet on the floor, her thoughts flitting back to her crew. Hopefully her father wouldn’t keep her long.
“Speaking of captains,” her father continued, “do you have a plan to stop this new one from getting the treasure?”
Scarlet started. “What new one?”
The admiral looked down at the frog in the jar and noticed it for the first time. He grimaced and turned it so it faced the wall.
“The new pirate captain,” he repeated. “Surely you’ve heard of him.”
Scarlet leaned forward. This sounded serious. “Fill me in.”
The admiral frowned. “Everyone’s talking about him, though, I have yet to meet anyone who has actually met him. Apparently a new pirate is rising to power, and he’s gathering a crew of the filthiest and fiercest pirates around. Rumor has it he aims to be the most powerful pirate in all the tropics.”
“What?” Scarlet cried, then lowered her voice. “What does that mean?”
The admiral frowned. “Well, he wants the most powerful crew, the fastest and biggest ship, and control of all the treasure around.”
The Guardians of Island X Page 16