Peter and the Secret of Rundoon

by Dave Barry, Ridley Pearson

  “They’re watching for Peter,” said Leonard.

  Bakari nodded. “Do you think he’ll try to return?”

  Leonard allowed himself a thin smile. “If I know Peter,” he said, “he will indeed try to return.” The smile faded. “But I don’t see how he can get past all those rifles.”

  “Perhaps when it gets darker,” said Bakari.

  “Perhaps,” said Leonard. “If it’s not too late.”

  They stood in silence for another minute, watching the rocket preparations. Leonard was about to turn away when he thought he saw movement at the left edge of his vision. He pressed his face against the bars, straining to see in that direction, and saw it again: a darting glimmer against the sky.

  “Tink,” he whispered.

  The tiny shape zigzagged closer as Leonard and Bakari watched anxiously, fearing that she would be spotted. But the soldiers were watching for something far larger. In a moment she had shot through the bars and was hovering in front of the men in their dim cell. She glanced at the corridor, and, seeing no guards within earshot, chimed quietly.

  Peter sent me to you.

  “Is he all right?” said Leonard.

  Yes.

  “And Molly?”

  She’s with Peter, chimed Tink, with a disapproving expression. They’re hiding. They’re going to fly over the wall when it gets dark and the men can’t see them. They’re going to rescue you.

  Leonard shook his head. “No,” he said. “Listen, Tinker Bell, this is very important. Tell Peter and Molly that rescuing us will have to wait. The important thing is that they must stop the rocket from going up. Do you understand?”

  Tink nodded. Don’t rescue you. Stop the rocket from going up.

  “That’s right. Good.”

  How?

  “What?”

  How do they stop the rocket?

  Leonard rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know,” he said. “But they must stop it, somehow. If they don’t, the world will be…there will be no world.”

  Tink had no response, which was unusual for her.

  “Hurry, Tink,” said Leonard, glancing out the cell window. “Tell them there isn’t much time.”

  I’ll tell them, said Tink. She shot through the bars, a streak of golden light. Bakari and Leonard watched her disappear over the palace wall. The sky was getting darker; soldiers were lighting torches in the courtyard.

  “There isn’t much time,” repeated Leonard.

  CHAPTER 47

  MOLLY’S DECISION

  TINK, ZOOMING THROUGH the darkening evening sky, found Peter and Molly where she’d left them—in a narrow alley between two buildings close to the outer palace wall. Ignoring Molly, Tink landed on Peter’s shoulder and chimed into his ear for a full minute, Peter’s frown deepening all the while.

  “What is it?” asked Molly.

  Peter, to her annoyance, held up a hand to quiet her, then said to Tink, “What did he mean by that?”

  Tink chimed a few short tones.

  Peter shook his head and said, “Strange.”

  “What?” said Molly, exasperated.

  “Tink says your father doesn’t want us to rescue him right now,” said Peter.

  “What? Why not?”

  “He wants us to stop the rocket from going up.”

  “What rocket?”

  “There’s another rocket in the palace courtyard. Your father says if we don’t stop it from going up, there will be no more…” Peter hesitated.

  “No more what?” said Molly.

  “No more…world,” said Peter.

  Molly stared at him. “What on earth does that mean?”

  “I don’t know,” said Peter. “But he told Tink we haven’t much time to stop it…the rocket. However it is you stop a rocket.”

  Molly looked at Tink, then at Peter. “Whatever Tink thinks she heard my father say,” she said, “I still intend to go to him first.”

  The soft, golden glow that Tink usually radiated quickly turned to a deep maroon. She fired off a blast of bells.

  “Molly,” Peter said, “Tink says—”

  “I don’t care what Tink says,” Molly snapped. “I’m going to find my father. I’m going to rescue him, with or without you!” She drew her locket out from under her robe.

  Peter grabbed her arm. “Listen, Molly,” he said, “we’ll rescue your father, I promise. But he told Tink we have to stop the rocket first. Think about it. He wouldn’t say that if it wasn’t important.”

  Molly shook Peter’s hand off. “You do as you please,” she said. “I’m going to find my father now.” She opened the locket. Instantly the alley filled with a golden glow. She raised the locket and carefully poured a small amount of starstuff onto herself. As the glow traveled the length of her body, she began to rise up into the sky, which was now a deep blue black.

  “Molly!” Peter shouted. But before he could say another word, she leveled her body and disappeared over the rooftops. Peter braced to launch himself after her, but then stopped. He turned to Tink.

  “Were there people working on the rocket?” he said.

  Yes, chimed Tmk.

  “All right,” he said. “We’ll go see about the rocket first. Then we’ll help Molly rescue her father.”

  If there’s still a world, chimed Tink.

  “Right,” said Peter softly. “If there’s still a world.”

  CHAPTER 48

  THE SHIP WE WANT

  GEORGE AND THE OTHER BOYS were hiding amid a cluster of wooden barrels, up a gentle hill from the harbor. As the sun descended, they listened to the bustle of the docks ease into the lazy murmur of evening. As dusk deepened to night, the boys raised their heads and surveyed the scene.

  The harbor was shaped like a horseshoe, with five docks sticking out from the rocky shoreline. The docks were crowded with sailboats: some small fishing vessels, and some larger cargo ships. The sails were triangles, with spars connected to masts at odd angles.

  “Those are strange-looking boats,” said Prentiss.

  “Never seen nothing like ’em,” agreed Thomas.

  George frowned. “You mean,” he said, “you’ve never seen anything like them.”

  “That’s what I said,” said Thomas.

  George sighed. “Those ships are called feluccas,” he said. “Ancient sailing craft. Quite all right for rivers and low seas, but sadly lacking for our needs.”

  “Yes,” said Prentiss. “Sadly lacking, those feluccas.” Thomas giggled. George, annoyed, was about to say something when James tugged his robe.

  “What about that one?” he said. He was pointing to a tall mast directly below them.

  George crept forward between the barrels for a better look. The other boys followed. “Ah,” said George. “Now that’s more like it. Dutch or French built. Square-rigged. Nearing a hundred feet, I’d say. Excellent, James!”

  “But it’s not in the water,” Tubby Ted pointed out. He was right: the ship sat atop timbers, its stern aimed toward the sea.

  “It’s being repaired,” said George.

  “He wants to steal a broken ship,” said Tubby Ted. Prentiss and Thomas snickered.

  “We’re not stealing,” said George. “We’re borrowing. And it’s not necessarily broken; it’s under repair. Painting, refitting, that sort of thing. It looks to me as though it’s ready to be launched. But at the moment it has no crew, so we can easily take control.”

  “Right,” said Prentiss. “Control of a ship that’s not in the water.” Thomas giggled again.

  “Laugh if you want,” said George. “But that’s our ship. That’s the only one that can get us home.”

  “But how do we get it into the water?” asked James.

  “That’s the problem,” agreed George.

  “Will there be food on the ship?” said Tubby Ted.

  George ignored him, studying the ship. The sky was quite dark now, but there was light to see by, thanks to the fat moon just starting to peek over the horizon. Tubby Ted b
egan to poke around among the barrels, in case one of them contained food. He noticed that one seemed to be leaking liquid from a seam. He sniffed the liquid, then took some on his finger and licked it.

  “Umm,” he said. “Not bad.”

  “Ted,” said James. “This isn’t the time to—”

  “What is that?” said George, looking at Ted.

  “I dunno,” said Ted. “But it’s not bad.”

  George dabbed his finger into the seeping liquid, then tasted it. His gaze went from the row of barrels down the hill to the ship. He smiled. “It’s olive oil! Well done, Ted.”

  “You mean we can eat it?” said Ted.

  “No,” said George. “But we can definitely use it to our advantage.”

  CHAPTER 49

  THE APPETIZER

  SHINING PEARL AND THE PIRATE named Hurky crouched in the thick jungle around the clearing outside the gate to the pirate fort. By moonlight they could see that the gate hung partially open. They had been hiding there for half an hour, not moving a muscle, listening for Scorpion warriors but hearing only jungle sounds.

  “They must have left,” whispered Shining Pearl, finally.

  “Or they’re sleeping,” said Hurky, his eyes on the fort.

  “Either way,” whispered Shining Pearl, “I’m going to go in.”

  Hurky looked at her for a moment. “All right, then,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  Keeping to the edge of the clearing, they crept to the gate. Reaching it, they stood still for a minute, listening. Shining Pearl glanced up and saw a bright streak shoot across the sky, then another, then another. She had seen shooting stars before, but never three so close together; she wondered if it was a sign.

  Hurky’s attention was on the gate. He put his hands on the rough wood and pushed. The gate swung open slowly, making a creak that sounded much too loud to Hurky and Shining Pearl. They waited another minute but heard nothing. They went inside. Shining Pearl jerked to a stop. Just a few feet away, the body of a pirate lay on the ground, an arrow sticking out of his chest, a reminder of the battle that had taken place here when the Scorpions had overrun the fort.

  Shining Pearl stared at the body. It looked ghastly pale in the moonlight. Hurky tugged at her arm.

  “Nothing to be done about him,” he whispered. “The cap’n’s cabin is over there.” He pointed to a hut across the compound.

  They went to the hut, where a piece of canvas served as a door. Shining Pearl pulled it aside and entered. She gagged at the stink of sweat. At first the cabin appeared to be empty, but then she saw something dark on the floor in the corner. She picked it up and examined it by the moonlight. It was a ragged pair of pants, worn, tattered, full of holes. And very smelly.

  “That’s what you asked after,” said Hurky, wrinkling his nose. “The cap’n’s pants. He hardly ever took ’em off.”

  They left the hut, trotted across the compound to the gate, and slipped out. Hurky pulled the gate shut. Shining Pearl was holding Hook’s pants at arm’s length; even in the open air, they reeked. She started across the clearing, then stopped, her eyes scanning the dark jungle.

  “What’s wrong?” whispered Hurky.

  “Listen,” she answered.

  Hurky cocked his head. “I don’t hear nothing,” he said.

  “That’s what bothers me,” whispered Shining Pearl. “The jungle is too quiet.”

  “Maybe it’s because of us,” said Hurky.

  “No,” said Shining Pearl, pointing across the clearing. “It’s because of them.”

  Hurky looked up and gasped. Four Scorpion warriors, each holding a spear, had stepped out of the jungle and were moving across the clearing, spreading out to prevent their prey from escaping. Shining Pearl and Hurky, with nowhere to go, backed up toward the fort. The Scorpions stopped a few feet away. They were grinning, their teeth bright white in the moonlight.

  One of them said something. Neither Shining Pearl nor Hurky understood it. Their backs were now against the gate. The Scorpions laughed at them, enjoying their terror. One of them raised his spear and pointed it at Hurky, then at Shining Pearl, then back at Hurky, then back at Shining Pearl again, as if deciding which one to impale first.

  The Scorpions found this game so entertaining that they didn’t notice the movement in the jungle behind them. But Shining Pearl saw it: the treetops shaking as the trunks were shoved aside by something huge and powerful coming through. A moment later Shining Pearl saw the two orbs glowing red in the moonlight—eyes, reptile eyes, impossibly big, impossibly far apart.

  Now the taunting Scorpion warrior pulled back his spear for the kill. He had chosen his target: Hurky would die first. Hurky did not see the massive thing in the jungle behind the Scorpions; he had dropped to his knees, his eyes on the gleaming tip of the spear that was about to end his existence. Hurky’s lips moved in soundless prayer. The warrior’s hand tightened on his spear; his arm tensed for the kill.

  And then the jungle night was filled with a blood-chilling roar, and the ground shook as a massive creature longer than a war canoe lunged from the jungle. The Scorpions turned and gaped at the sight of the giant crocodile known as Mister Grin lumbering toward them, opening jaws huge enough to swallow a standing man in one gulp.

  The Scorpion warriors froze for an instant, and that was an instant too long. The huge croc, moving faster than would seem possible for a thing of such monstrous bulk, was across the clearing and upon the warriors, whose spears were no match for Mister Grin’s snapping jaws and long, sharp, jagged teeth.

  Shining Pearl reached down and grabbed the arm of Hurky, who was still kneeling and too shocked to react to the carnage in front of him.

  “Come!” she said, jerking him to his feet. “Hurry!”

  She ran along the fence and into the jungle, Hurky stumbling behind her. They plunged into the undergrowth. Shining Pearl angled to the right, pushing through the thick vegetation until she found the path that led to the place where Smee and the other pirates would be waiting for them. With Hurky right behind, she raced up the path, away from the clearing and the awful screams of the Scorpions.

  Gradually the screams grew less frequent. Then they stopped. Shining Pearl was breathing hard, but she dared not slow down. She knew that what had drawn the giant crocodile into the clearing was the pants she held in her hands, which smelled so strongly of the croc’s favorite delicacy: Captain Hook. Now that Mister Grin was done with his appetizer, he would be after the next course.

  He would be coming after Shining Pearl.

  CHAPTER 50

  UNANSWERED QUESTIONS

  PETER AND TINK, keeping to the shadows, flew up the side of the massive palace-compound wall, away from the guard towers. The moon hung low on the horizon, but the heavens above were coming alive. Fiery meteors streaked across the sky every few seconds in a dazzling display.

  Peter poked his head over the wall and surveyed the scene. He saw the palace courtyard illuminated by a large ring of torches on poles thrust into the ground; in the center of the torch-lit ring stood the rocket, next to which a scaffold had been erected. Slightly and the other boys were lugging buckets of black powder from a distant wagon to the rocket. There were soldiers everywhere, most of them holding rifles.

  As Peter and Tink watched, Slightly and the other boys finished loading the powder. Viktor Glotz shouted an order, and two soldiers appeared carrying a cage containing a monkey.

  Franklin! chimed Tink.

  “Who’s Franklin?” said Peter.

  The monkey, said Tink. I know him.

  “Not well, I hope,” Peter said grimly. “It appears he’s going to steer the rocket.”

  He’s a nice monkey, said Tink.

  They watched as Glotz, aided by Slightly and Tootles, climbed the scaffold and put Franklin into his compartment near the top of the rocket. After they descended, Glotz had soldiers bring the fuse roll.

  “He’ll be putting the fuse in soon,” muttered Peter. “Tink, I’ve got to get down the
re.”

  Tink fluttered into his face. They’ll shoot you.

  Peter nodded, looking at the soldiers. “If I fly in, they will,” he said. “I need another way.” His eyes scanned the courtyard. The powder wagon was being drawn away. Trudging behind it, surrounded by guards, were Slightly and three other boys. They turned right, heading toward the dungeon. Peter frowned. Then he pushed away from the wall, hovering in the darkness.

  What are you doing! chimed Tink.

  “Thinking.”

  About what?

  “About Slightly and the other boys. I bet they’re going to get the starstuff to load onto the rocket. Glotz and Zarboff don’t dare go near it themselves.”

  So?

  “So,” said Peter, “they’ll be coming back with the trunk.”

  So?

  But Peter was gone, zooming low along the outside of the wall. In an instant Tink was after him, a tiny blur of light, angrily chiming questions that for the moment went unanswered.

  CHAPTER 51

  NOT ALL RIGHT

  MOLLY FLEW OVER THE PALACE-COMPOUND WALL, immediately spotting the rocket, which was surrounded by a ring of torches and the shadowy shapes of soldiers. She flew away from this activity to the far end of the compound, where she dropped to the ground in the deep shadow next to a large building. Entering the compound had been easier than she’d expected. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw small windows with bars along the bottom of the wall. The building was evidently a prison.

  Hardly daring to believe she’d been lucky enough to land next to the dungeon, she ran along the side of the building, looking for a way in. She turned a corner, and in a few feet, came to a large wooden door with iron bands. She took a breath and tried the handle. To her surprise, it turned. She pushed open the heavy door and peered inside; seeing nobody, she stepped into a small space from which low, torch-lit corridors ran off to the left and right.