Peter and the Secret of Rundoon

by Dave Barry, Ridley Pearson

  CHAPTER 70

  FIGHT OR FLIGHT

  THE CANOES WERE NOW CLOSE enough that Molly, from the deck of the ship, could make out the red-painted faces of the howling Scorpion warriors. Some of the closer ones raised their bows and shot; the poisoned arrows arced through the air. Most splashed into the sea, but several thunked into the hull.

  “Father,” said Molly, “they’re getting awfully close.”

  Leonard, his eyes on the canoes, nodded. “Steady…steady…” he said to Hook, whose dark eyes danced between the Scorpions and the sails. The De Vliegen continued on a steady course that kept her broadside to the oncoming Scorpions—an easy target.

  Leonard turned to Peter—actually, to Tink, on Peter’s shoulder.

  “Now,” he said.

  In a flash, she was over the side.

  More arrows thunked into the hull. One, then another, hissed across the deck.

  “Take cover!” shouted Leonard. Molly ducked below the rail, peeking over the top. Peter and the other boys, having climbed to various posts in the rigging, hid behind masts and spars. Leonard and Hook crouched by the wheel. All eyes were on the onrushing canoes. The closest Scorpions were crouching in the front of their war boats, ready to make the leap toward the ship, now only yards away. The warriors rose to their feet, howling.

  In an instant, their howls turned to cries of fear as the forward canoes rose straight out of the water, lifted by the blunt snouts and powerful tails of Ammm and the other porpoises, shooting upward from the depths in perfect unison. Four canoes were hoisted high and flipped over, sending the Scorpions and their weapons flying into the sea.

  With a flash of tails, the porpoises disappeared, diving deep. The next wave of Scorpions, fearful of capsizing, stopped paddling and grabbed bows and spears, warily watching the water around them. Suddenly they heard hoots and whistles coming from behind. They turned and saw…

  Women?

  A dozen mermaids had surfaced among the canoes; they waved and beckoned to the Scorpion warriors, who stared at them, openmouthed, not knowing what to make of these strange creatures. As it happened, they had no time to decide, as seconds later they, too, were hurled upward and out of their canoes as the precision porpoise team struck again.

  Now the water foamed with chaos. Scorpions splashed in the water as they tried to pull themselves into the remaining upright canoes. These, in turn, were capsized by the porpoises and the mermaids. The would-be attackers—now set upon from every side—struggled to keep from drowning. They paid no attention to the De Vliegen.

  “Mr. Hook,” said Leonard, surveying the scene, “I believe the time has arrived.”

  Hook spun the wheel, shouting out orders. George interpreted and repeated them. As the ship began its turn, the boys quickly changed both the arrangement and the angles of the sails. The effect was exactly as Hook had planned. Slowly, the bow began to rise. Water slapped against the hull; timbers groaned; masts and yardarms shook; lines sang. A shudder passed from bow to stern. For a moment it sounded as if the ship was going to break apart.

  Instead, it flew.

  The bow lifted free of the surface, followed by the rest of the hull, water cascading from it like a rainstorm. The deck tilted steeply. The boys hanging on to the rigging let out a cheer.

  “Well done, Mr. Hook,” said Leonard. Hook’s lips twisted into what could possibly be described as a smile.

  “Slightly!” called Leonard. “Take your crew and man the starboard cannons.”

  “Yes sir,” answered Slightly, climbing quickly down the rigging. Reaching the deck, he paused and said, “Which one is starboard again?”

  “That side.” Leonard smiled, pointing to the right.

  The De Vliegen soared over the capsized canoes. The Scorpions, already spooked by the porpoise-and-mermaid attack, pointed and shouted in fear as the dripping hull passed overhead. When the flying ship had passed over the Scorpions, Hook put it into a starboard turn; the ship was now between the island and the dozens of swamped canoes. One by one, the porpoises and mermaids surfaced beneath the ship, forming a line in the water.

  The Scorpions struggled to get their canoes righted; they bailed them out with their bare hands. They had recovered some of their paddles, but most of their bows, arrows, and spears were lost. They now faced a choice: they could try to get back to the island, which meant fighting their way past the demonic sea creatures that had capsized their canoes and the flying ship—a flying ship!—only to face the wrath of their chief, a man who was not merciful to those who had failed him. Or they could do something unthinkable for a Scorpion warrior—retreat.

  BOOM!

  The fire-thrower blazed from the ship’s side; a cannonball hurtled across the water, barely missing a just-righted canoe. It skipped twice across the water before sinking.

  BOOM!

  A second ball—this one blasted an overturned canoe to smithereens as the warriors who had been in it swam for their lives.

  The mermaids, hooting and whistling, began swimming toward the Scorpions. The porpoises, squeaking and clicking and dancing high on their tails, did the same.

  The Scorpions were panicked. How could they fight this enemy?

  BOOM!

  Another ball whistled past.

  The line of mermaids and porpoises drew closer. One of the canoes in their path began to turn away, its occupants using hands and paddles to escape the oncoming creatures. Another canoe turned with them, then another, then another…

  Panic swept through the Scorpions as the unthinkable became thinkable. They all turned away, every canoe, the entire attack force, paddling out to sea as fast as they could, away from these magical foes, away from their wrathful chief, away forever from this cursed island.

  A cheer went up on board the De Vliegen. “Cease firing!” Leonard shouted to Slightly and the gun crew below. A moment later Peter landed on the deck next to him, soon joined by Molly.

  “That was brilliant, Father,” she said.

  “The credit goes to Mr. Hook and the crew,” said Leonard.

  I beg your pardon? chimed Tink, alighting on Peter’s shoulder.

  “Not to mention Admiral Tinker Bell and her naval forces,” said Leonard.

  Tink glowed brighter with the compliment.

  Peter watched the Scorpions paddle toward the horizon. “Is that all of them, do you think?” he asked.

  “Not likely,” said Leonard, his voice suddenly grim. “They wouldn’t have left the Mollusks unguarded. There will be more of them on the island, and they will be well-armed. We’ll have to face them without the element of surprise, and—unless we can get them into the water—without the help of Ammm or the mermaids. We’ve improved our odds considerably, but I fear we may still be in for a battle.”

  Just then the De Vliegen lurched again, this time more violently than the first time. Leonard looked at Hook, who shrugged, having no idea of the cause. Peter quickly vaulted over the side. He returned less than a minute later with a worried look on his face.

  “The bulge is worse,” he said. “There’s a good-sized crack in the hull now.”

  Leonard and Hook exchanged glances.

  “It didn’t do her no good, coming down in the water,” said Hook. “No telling how long she’ll hold together.”

  “No,” agreed Leonard. “If we’re going to attack, we must do it now.” Leonard looked his crew over. Children…But what choice was there?

  “Mr. Hook, make your course for the Mollusk camp.”

  CHAPTER 71

  THE MONSTROUS MAW

  THE SCORPION CHIEF, surrounded by four of his senior warriors, had watched the water battle with disbelief from a rock outcropping just above the compound. He had watched his warriors paddle their canoes toward the ship; had watched as they were attacked and overturned by sea creatures, both natural and unnatural. He had watched—though at first he doubted his eyes—the ship rise from the sea as though its sails were wings, then fly over his men, and finally turn and fire
on them.

  And he had watched in disbelief, then fury, as his men—Scorpion warriors—had fled to the sea. He watched them for a full minute, then spat on the ground. Cowards. He knew every man in those canoes. When the time came, he would find them and kill them all.

  But first he had to deal with the flying ship. It was turning now, clearly coming to the island. The chief glared at it. If the men on that ship expected to frighten the Scorpions on the island into fleeing, they were greatly mistaken.

  He would see to that.

  Shining Pearl emerged from the thick jungle onto the path. The pirates stumbled out behind her one by one, the last being Smee.

  Shining Pearl held her finger to her lips for quiet, and they all listened for a moment. They heard the now-familiar crashing sounds of Mister Grin following them, but the sounds were coming from farther away than they had been. Shining Pearl allowed herself a small smile. She had deliberately led the pirates through a part of the jungle where the trees grew very close together. It had been hard going for the pirates, squeezing between the trunks; but it had been harder still for the monster croc. They had gained both distance and precious time.

  “Where does this path lead?” said Boggs.

  “To the village,” said Shining Pearl, pointing. “It’s not far now.”

  Boggs started to speak again, but he was interrupted by the sound echoing from the direction of the village.

  “What was that?” said Smee.

  “That’s a cannon,” said Hurky.

  “And what is that?” said Boggs, pointing skyward.

  “That,” said Hurky, not quite believing his own words, “is a flying ship.”

  “Fire two!” shouted Leonard.

  BOOM!

  The second ball whistled through the air. This one, better aimed than the first, smashed a hole through the high tree-trunk wall surrounding the Mollusk compound.

  “Fine shot, Mr. Slightly!” shouted Leonard.

  “They don’t seem pleased about it,” observed Hook, gazing down at the Scorpion warriors. They were swarming beneath the De Vliegen, shouting and shooting arrows up at it. But the ship, thanks to Hook’s deft airmanship, was just out of reach of all but the strongest archers. The few arrows that reached the ship had lost most of their velocity and bounced harmlessly off the hull.

  “No,” said Leonard. “They’re not pleased. But they don’t seem frightened, either. I had hoped we might scare them into fleeing. But clearly they intend to defend the compound.”

  Most of the Scorpion warriors were gathered in front of the main gate. Inside the compound itself were the sleeping hut and cooking fires, which were tended by Mollusk women and children, now slaves to the Scorpions. Peter, standing next to Leonard and Molly on the De Vliegen, felt his heart ache when he saw the condition of his Mollusk friends—gaunt, exhausted, barely able to lift their heads, even to see the flying ship.

  “They look awful!” said Molly. “Father, what can we do?”

  “I don’t know,” Leonard admitted. “We can irritate them with the cannon, but we can’t defeat them from up here. And we don’t want to risk harming the captive Mollusks.”

  The ship lurched. Leonard exchanged glances with Hook, then said, “For that matter, I don’t know how much longer we can stay up here. What we need is…”

  He was interrupted by a shout from James, high up the mainmast.

  “People coming!” he called.

  “Where?” shouted Peter.

  “There!”

  Peter looked where James was pointing, and in a moment he saw them—a line of tiny figures on one of the paths leading down the mountainside toward the compound. At this distance, he couldn’t make out who they were.

  “Do we have a spyglass?” asked Leonard.

  “There’s one below,” said Molly. She ran down and quickly returned with the glass, which she handed to Leonard. He put it to his eye.

  “Well, now,” he said.

  “What is it?” said Peter.

  “Take a look,” said Leonard, handing over the glass. Peter put it to his eye and looked at the mountain. It took him a few moments, but he found the path, and then the men, and then…

  “Fighting Prawn!” he exclaimed. The Mollusk chief looked gaunt and filthy, but he was trotting down the path with dogged determination, followed by what looked like at least fifty men, including…Were those pirates?

  “What’s happening?” asked Molly.

  “It looks as though Fighting Prawn intends to attack the compound,” said Leonard, frowning.

  “That’s good, then, isn’t it?”

  “I wish it were,” said Leonard. “But he’s still outnumbered. The Scorpions will cut him and his men to pieces. Unless…” He looked at Peter. “Is there a rear gate to the compound?”

  “Yes,” said Peter, pointing. “It’s back behind those huts. But it’s always barred shut.” He looked at Leonard. “But if it was open…”

  “Exactly,” said Leonard. “We can use the cannon to distract the men in the front, but the rear gate is likely to have guards. If you go in alone…”

  Excuse me? chimed Tink

  “I won’t be alone,” said Peter.

  “But what about the arrows?” said Molly, looking down at the Scorpion archers.

  Does she ever stop nagging?

  “What did she say?” asked Molly.

  “She said we’ll be careful,” said Peter. He took two quick steps and launched himself off the deck, with Tink right behind.

  Leonard and Molly watched them go, two figures arcing high across the sky to stay out of range of the Scorpion archers.

  “Yes,” Leonard said softly. “You be careful.”

  Fighting Prawn, staggering down the mountain as fast as his hunger-weakened legs would carry him, kept his eyes on the path, occasionally glancing up at the miraculous sight of the flying ship. He didn’t know how it came to be there, although he suspected his flying friend Peter was involved. What he did know was that the ship was firing on the Scorpions, and therefore was, at least for now, his ally.

  He reached the base of the mountain. Ahead, on the other side of a clearing, lay the village. His village. He turned and looked at the ragged band of Mollusk warriors and pirates—a few armed with whips and knives but most holding only rocks. Not much of an attacking force, but it would have to do.

  He raised his head and, with all the strength he could muster, shouted the Mollusk war cry. His men answered in parched, hoarse voices. Fighting Prawn turned and began trotting across the clearing toward the compound, and the battle that would decide the fate of his people.

  Peter and Tink flew high in the brilliant blue sky, their plan being to come down with the sun behind them, thus blinding any Scorpion looking up in their direction. At the moment, though, the Scorpions were occupied with the De Vliegen, which was firing on the front of the compound, providing the distraction that Leonard had promised.

  He heard faint shouts, and looked down to his right; Fighting Prawn was leading his men across the clearing. If Peter was to get the rear gate open, he would have to move quickly. He glanced up to check the sun’s angle, then, with Tink alongside, went into a steep, fast dive. He hoped to reach the gate and have it open before the Scorpions saw him.

  It nearly worked. As Leonard had expected, Scorpion sentries—two of them—had been posted at the rear gate. Both sentries, however, had been distracted by the cannon attack, and had wandered toward the center of the compound to get a better view of the action. Peter dropped gently to the ground behind them and ran to the gate. It was a single door, barred shut by a log set into forked tree trunks on either side. Peter went to the left side and strained to lift it, but it barely budged. He glanced behind him; the sentries were still looking away. He put his shoulder under the log and strained upward with all his strength. Slowly he inched it out of the fork.

  Look out! chimed Tink.

  THUNK!

  The arrow slammed into the log two inches from Peter’
s head. Trapped under the log, Peter gave it a desperate heave. He got it clear of the fork and let it fall, diving to the side as a second arrow pierced the gate where he’d been standing. Facedown on the ground, he turned sideways to see one of the Scorpion sentries aiming another arrow at him. He started to push himself up, but as he did, the Scorpion released the arrow. Peter was sure it would hit him—yet somehow it didn’t. It skimmed just past his face, making the strangest sound, and as it slammed into the gate next to him, Peter saw that it had been deflected by Tink, who had somehow grasped it in mid-flight. She was still clinging to the shaft with her tiny hands, a dazed look on her delicate face.

  “Thanks!” said Peter, springing to his feet.

  I am NOT doing that again, she replied.

  There was no more time for conversation; the sentries, having abandoned their efforts to shoot the elusive boy, were sprinting toward him. Peter waited until they were close, then flung himself upward, leaving them grasping air and grunting with surprise and a hint of fear—A flying ship, and now a flying boy.

  Peter hovered just above their heads, shouting at them, hoping to distract them from the log now resting in only one fork. The Scorpions leapt up and down, trying to reach the infuriating boy’s dangling feet. Realizing that was hopeless, they reached for their bows again. As they fitted arrows to strings, Peter shot over the compound wall.

  Fighting Prawn’s lungs burned, and he was having trouble moving his legs. Twice he had stumbled and fallen, as had many of the men behind him. Each time he willed himself to get back on his feet and move forward. Assuming that the rear gate was locked, he had decided to divide his force in half and send them around both sides of the compound to attack the Scorpions in the front. He was about to issue the order when he saw a familiar figure fly over the compound wall.