Paradise Island

by Charmaine Ross

  “How do you propose to get this sail up,” Gregory said, indicating the heap of flax strewn on the decks. The ropes were in a messy tangle on top of the sail. Something hard and uncomfortable tightened in her stomach. The elation of moments before slipped away like wisps of a dream.

  “How … how do they manage to sail?” she gasped.

  Gregory shook his head. “As though by the hand of magic itself. But how does that work?”

  Estelle sat, ringing her knees up and resting her forehead on them. She refused to give in to the despair that welled inside. Where there was action, there was hope. Where there was a way, she would find it. But now, sitting on the black decks of an enemy ship, knowing that without hauling the sail, there was no hope of getting away. No hope of finding Paradise. No hope of seeing her friends. No knowing if they lived or if the worst had happened to them. Her father, alive but not.

  She choked off the sob that threatened to spill from her mouth, hiding her face from Gregory so he couldn’t see the hat she knew colored her cheeks. She would show no weakness.

  Images of her friend’s faces skittered through her mind. Claire’s fair face and her quiet, sublime smile. Dalia’s stern face and warm chocolate eyes. She would never see them again. She imagined herself pulling in the dock of Paradise, the children running to the pier, excited and laughing, wanting the presents they knew each trip would bring them. The images were so real, she could almost reach out and hug them.

  The decks of the ship lurched and the ship rolled in the quiet waters. Estelle clutched the boards with splayed fingers. “What was that?”

  Gregory flew to his feet, unseating his sword. Estelle followed. They both stood, frozen in place, eyes and ears taking in every sight and sound. Apart from a stray call of a seagull, there was nothing. All returned to quiet, the ship eventually settling beneath her feet.

  “The ship moved by itself.”

  Gregory looked about, jaw tensing. “Agreed. How else can these ships move so fast through the water at such speeds? They have no help of a sail. There has to be another explanation.”

  “You were right. It is magic,” Estelle muttered.

  “But how? Did you do something to make this ship move?”

  A frown crinkled her brow. “I did nothing.”

  “Think. There must have been something. There has to be a reason.”

  Her mind buzzed. There was no reason, she hadn’t moved a muscle, yet the ship had moved. She looked blindly around, palm on her forehead, searching for a reason.

  A black patch in the crumpled sail caught her attention. It was a piece of canvas caught in the folds. Catching the edge of the material, she pulled it out, flattening it on top of the sail. She knew what she saw in an instant. The skull and crossbones were seared into her mind. The dark foreboding feeling wound through her mind, as though suffocating any good she felt from her mind.

  It was the same feeling she had in the cave when she’d discovered the painting of the cave on the wall. It was the same image on the ring in her satchel. With unsteady fingers she pulled the ring out. The gold was hot to the touch, the metal buzzing with a powerful charge. As soon as it touched her skin, she felt the power surge through her.

  “You have my ring,” Gregory said.

  Hesitantly she took his hand and turned it palm side up. She held the ring between their palms. The energy from the ring pulsed between them. It rattled between their enclosed palms like a living things, writhing and jumping.

  “I saw the same image in the cave last night.” Gregory stabbed her with a hard stare, she swallowed hard, continuing, “When you were … asleep, I found it. The painting was very old, but there is no mistaking this is the same skull. This ship sails under the skull. This is the magic that gives it such great power.” Estelle scooped the ring and placed it on her finger.

  Gregory paused, raked his fingers through his hair, exhaling his breath between clenched teeth. “There’s more. I have to tell you about … the ring. It was magic that took your father that night.” His voice was rough and low and she stabbed him with a stare of her own.

  “How do you know?”

  “I found that ring on this night he disappeared.”

  “You said you found nothing! No trace! You lied to me!”

  Gregory faced her, hard lines etched his mouth. “Believe me when I say it is better you didn’t know of it. It’s all I found. There was nothing else. I found it in the shadows just after your father disappeared. Estelle, I … I have uncovered more of this mystery than I could ever tell anyone.”

  “And why then, did you keep this ring, if it were so dangerous to possess?”

  Gregory sighed. “I can’t say now whether I believe it or not, but if what has happened to me in the past two days is anything to go by, it seems I should have been more open minded years ago.” He turned to face her, watched the sunlight spark off her autumn locks. “You father had found a great secret and told me the night before he went missing.”

  “What did he discover?” She was breathless, watching him intently, her whole attention riveted to what he should say next.

  He chose his words carefully. “He had inadvertently discovered information pertaining to a government official and an ancient prophecy.” Gregory checked to make sure that she believed what he said, that there was no incredulous expression on her face, no fleeting twitch.

  She nodded. “Go on.”

  He thinned his mouth into a flat line. “I have told no others of this during all these years, but have only worked to reveal further truth from what your father told me that night. I’m not sure if you’re going to like what I am about to reveal, but it involves your General Marcus Worthington and a prophecy so ancient, so evil that I was astounded it survived the eons of years that it has.”

  “Worthington discovered the folklore of the ancients that dwelled in this area of the world for thousands of years. The Time before Time, they call it, their explanation of how the earth, heaven, and hell were created. But there was one such story that they never liked to tell. Worthington was curious, more curious than others. You father told me he discovered the tale of how gods can live of the earth as men.”

  “Worthington read tales of one such god, a power hungry god of the ancients imprisoned in a bottomless cave for his wicked deeds when the gods were allowed to walk the earth before men were created. If this god were to be set free, its glory would to become a god on earth. But having no body, it would need to enlist the help of men made of blood and bone to walk these planes again. Worthington subjected many of the local people to torture and was eventually shown a cave and a map. Your father happened upon this map a week before he disappeared, learning of Worthington’s deeds. He needed more evidence to put him behind bars, but Worthington had covered his tracks well, enlisting the help of one of the most corrupt seamen in this region.”

  “Cutlass,” Estelle whispered.

  Gregory nodded. “The then Able Seamen Jack Cutlass, who having been enlisted by Worthington, has grown to become the most ruthless and richest of pirates in the Southern Hemisphere.”

  “Are you sure about this information? I have only known the General to be kind to me.”

  “Kind to your face, but behind your back something else altogether. Since raising the god from the cave, however he has done it, he has risen through the ranks to General faster than any other. He was the one that stopped me from coming to get you after the disappearance of your father. All the way, General Worthington has grown more and more rich and has entwined himself into the upper echelons of power. Now Worthington is more powerful than even the prime governor.”

  “Was my father sure of all of this?” Estelle asked.

  “Sure enough that he met disaster at the hands of Worthington. Estelle, your father was my greatest friend, a father to me, a mentor. It has been my greatest anguish th
at he suffered as he has done, and for all these years. I have been powerless to help him until the day I was made Captain myself and had a crew and a ship for my own to command. I can only believe that the map he gave me is the key to uncover and stop that which was set in motion by Worthington.”

  She studied him closely kept her gaze steady. Eventually she drew the map from her satchel and opened it. He watched as she studied the lines. “They are the same as the images from the cave.”

  “You must tell me everything you know. If there is any chance of getting out of here, it is to put our heads and experiences together.”

  Estelle thought this over and eventually nodded, keeping a jaundiced eye on him. “You may be right. While you … slept, I discovered ancient paintings at the back of the cave wall.” She traced the tip of her finger along the ridges on the map. “They matched these lines perfectly. They traveled all the way to the painting of a cave. Even looking at the cave that was painted on the wall, it gave me such a distressing feeling I was unable to study it for too long. I couldn’t make sense of it then, but now looking at these mountain ranges, I think … It is! Paradise! The silhouette of Paradise!”

  A movement on the ridge caught her attention and a strangled sound fell from her mouth. In the idle of the line was the tall figure of Jack Cutlass. Gregory followed her gaze to the line of black-clad men lining the ridge. He gripped her shoulders, his long fingers wrapped over her. The heat from his hands permeated through her wet clothes, warming her bones. “We have to get out of here. Think, Estelle. You have to use the ring. There must be a power that links those men, and these ship. The ring must be the key.”

  “I … I don’t know how to make it work!” Desperation laced her words. The men silently moved down the cliff. The ships next to them started to roll and buck as the men closed in. They were sitting ducks on board Cutlass’s ship, caught at the end of a deadly trap.

  “Think, Estelle. Think!”

  Taking control of her growing fear, she blocked off the sight of the black-clothed crew steadily coming towards them. Gregory’s words ripped through her mind. Think. Thoughts. What had she been thinking about when the ship bucked?

  She gasped, looked at Gregory. “Paradise!” At her word the ship lurched forward. “That’s it!” she cried.

  “The anchor.”

  Gregory ran to the winch. Estelle was on his heels. Together they rolled the anchor winch. Using all her strength she rolled up the chain. As the anchor lifted from the sea bed, the ship drifted in the current.

  “Estelle! We’re heading for the shore!”

  She hadn’t realized she’d scrunched her eyes so tightly. Cracking them open she saw the men at the shore line. The ship had drifted, almost touching the white capped waves breaking into the shallow ground at the shore.

  “I’ll do this. Just do what you do and get us out of here!” Gregory looked at her, real panic registering on his face. Just seeing that on a face meant for command made her realize how close they were of failing.

  Clutching the ring, she pressed it against her heart. She pictured the island of Paradise as she would guide The Wanderlust through the narrow entrance to the quiet bay. She imagined the village, the huts dotted amongst the ferns and palms that lined the hill beyond the bay.

  “Paradise,” she whispered to herself over and over again. “Find Paradise.”

  The ring heated, energy pulsed through her palm. Beneath her feet, the decks rolled. Wind tossed her hair, whipping it across her face. She opened her eyes and the breath stuck in her throat. They were in the open ocean, seemingly flying over the waves. The furthest of the island were fast approaching, the ship automatically steering towards them, bringing them closer to her home.

  “It’s working!” Gregory stood next to her. The wind plucked at his open shirt, barring his bare chest to the elements. His hair streaked backwards with the force of the breeze as they raced forewords.

  He glanced at her, held her gaze for a moment then looked back to the fast approaching islands. “Why is Paradise so dear to you?”

  Why? There were so many reasons. It was her home. The home she had created for herself when no one would provide her with any shelter at all. Her friends were there. All souls she’d save at the hands of the mistreatment of men bound by a loyalty that would never be broken.

  They were more than friends. They were her family. A family she had chosen for herself. All of them, everything there meant more than life and death to her. How could she explain the powerful emotions she connection with her chosen land?

  “You wouldn’t understand,” she said.

  When she looked up, she was caught in the intensity of his gaze. “Try me.”

  She swallowed hard. “I don’t know why I chose that island in particular. It had a quiet bay, it’s protected. Many ships have sailed past without noticing the island. It is a well-kept secret.”

  “You could be telling me about any island,” he said.

  She glanced out at the ocean without really seeing it. “I … can’t really describe it. It called to me … as though I couldn’t live anywhere else in the entire world. When I first landed there, I could almost see the village and all the people that would eventually call it home too.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It was overwhelming, but something I knew would be so right. Do you understand what I mean?” She tried to tell herself she didn’t care if he didn’t understand, or if he thought it was a stupid idea.

  His face softened as he watched her, his eyes roamed her face. “I don’t think it was a stupid idea at all.”

  She turned quickly, hiding the quick sting of heat in her eyes. It wasn’t good to show weakness. Particularly in front of him. But he understood and somehow that made it even more special.

  “There it is!” she cried. The familiar silhouette of Paradise merged from the horizon and quickly became more solid as they raced towards it. “That’s Paradise.” She smiled, turned to face Gregory and stopped short at the horror on his face.

  “And they are behind us,” he said.

  She spun around to see several of the ships streaming towards them. They were going faster and catching up to them at great speed. Estelle clutched the ring, pressing it to her chest. Paradise was coming close, but the ship behind were fast approaching.

  “How could have found us?”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Gregory said. “They have been on our tails since yesterday. They found us in the middle of the high seas, and on the shore of that island. But how?”

  “The ring,” Estelle said. “Who knows how the magic works, but it has to be the only way they could have tracked us. Have you ever noticed it being this hot?”

  Gregory shook his head. “It’s always been a normal ring. Cold to the touch, not that I’ve gone out of my way to wear it.”

  “Supposing it’s linked to other rings … ” Estelle stopped speaking.

  “What is it, Estelle?”

  “Jack. He was wearing a ring like this.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I saw it on his hand, a flash of gold, a skull just like this one. There’s no other explanation.”

  “That means as long as we have the ring, they will be able to track us.”

  Paradise was fast approaching, but the ships behind were clearly visible. “We’ll have to swim to the island. I can’t have them following us to the village.” Estelle swallowed. “They are all innocents who live there. They won’t stand a chance against Jack and those cursed men.”

  The muscle at Gregory’s jaw worked. “This ship is on a course to your village. How are you going to change it?”

  “I … I’ll think of another bay. We’ll jump ship and leave the ring on board.”

  Gregory gave a sharp nod. “Keep course then change at the last moment. As long as they don’t see us swim, they will follow the ship.
If the rings are linked, they will unwittingly follow it. Hang fast, Estelle. We will have to act quickly.”

  Estelle’s gaze was torn between the island of her home and the dark ship cutting a path directly to them. She could only pray this would work. She thought of the innocent lives she was responsible for, the children that had only known Paradise as their home. She would not sacrifice them.

  She saw the waves breaking on the rocky shore line of Paradise. This was a little known point of the island, the bay being at the opposite end, but still the best point from which she could trek through the bush to reach her village. Hopefully the ship would sail past, and Jack would be none the wiser to which island was that of Paradise and her secret home would remain safe. If not … she didn’t like to even think about it. It simply could not happen.

  “Ready yourself, Estelle.”

  Together they perched on the edge of the deck. The water raced below her feet, rushing past in a powerful torrent. She had never sailed at such a clipped pace, but knew at this speed a false move could be fatal. By the tense lines at the corners of Gregory’s mouth, he also knew the same. Many a sailor had died at the hand of the very thing that gave them their life.

  “It has to be now, Estelle. Think of somewhere at the opposite end of the world.”

  Estelle clutched the ring to her chest and remembered a shore so cold that it was white and frozen most of the year. So cold, The Wanderlust had almost been iced in for the term of winter. She had luckily escaped and knew no better location than to send Jack Cutlass.

  The ship swerved at a sharp angle, and tipped violently. Her feet slipped from beneath her. She grabbed the gun rail, legs swinging in midair as the ship tilted, altering its course.

  “Now, Estelle. We have to jump now!” Gregory perched on the edge of the deck, balancing on the edge between the boards and the side of the ship. He held into the gun rail with one hand, reaching towards her. “Take my hand!”

  She let the ring go, watching as it clattered across the boards, wedging itself on a corner of the cabin and the deck. Gregory’s hand wrapped around hers. She was pulled through the air feeling as though she weighed no more than a feather. He wound his arm about her waist and held her as she balanced on the lip of the deck.