Spirits in the Park

by Scott Mebus

  Jimmy reached the old pub where Boss Tweed held court, making his way through to the back room, where Tweed awaited him. He pushed through the door without knocking, swaggering as he prepared to give an insolent hello. Instead, he was shocked to find a knife at his own throat. Terrified, he spied Tweed sitting at his desk, his big, full beard twitching with amusement.

  “Haven’t you heard of knocking, boy?” Tweed said merrily, though his eyes didn’t smile one bit. Jimmy felt the knife pull away from his throat and he spun to face his attacker. He recognized the boy in front of him; his name was Sammy “Two Blade” Liu since he always carried a pair of knives. He was a member of the Four Brothers Tong, one of the many mortal enemies of the B’wry Boys, and Jimmy opened his mouth to challenge him to a fight. But then he noticed Sammy’s eyes; they spun in their sockets like pinwheels. Jimmy staggered back away as he realized that Sammy was possessesd.

  “Have a seat, Jimmy,” Sammy said, but the voice wasn’t Sammy’s; it was deeper and much, much older. Truly scared now, Jimmy sat heavily in a chair in front of Tweed’s desk. Sammy sat across from him, his eyes still rolling around.

  “Who are you?” Jimmy demanded.

  “That’s not important, Jimmy, you know that,” Tweed admonished him. “What’s important is that our friend here has a job for you and your merry band of Indians.”

  “What job?” Jimmy didn’t know if he wanted to do a job for this scary creature, but something told him he didn’t have much of a choice.

  “You’ve done your work well, Jimmy,” the voice inside Sammy congratulated him. “People are more frightened of the Munsees than they’ve been in more than a century. And now that Mr. Stuyvesant has gone ill . . .”

  “I get ya,” Jimmy said. “People are saying that the only ones left to protect us from the Munsees are the Mayor and Mr. Kieft. Even though not everyone likes it, beggin’ your pardon.”

  “Why would I be offended?” the voice inside Sammy said. “So everything is going to plan, that foolish song notwithstanding.”

  “I hate that song,” Jimmy said. “It gets stuck in your head and never leaves. And who cares if somebody fell in love with a dirty Indian? Some people fall in love with goats, or so I heard.”

  “That’s the spirit,” the voice in Sammy said. “We need more of that around here.”

  “I told Mr.—” Tweed glanced at Sammy, stopping himself. “I told our friend here about how much you want to help.”

  “Here is what I need,” the voice in Sammy said. “I need one final act of terror to set the stage for the big show. I need a murder.”

  “A murder?” Jimmy shrugged. “Is that all? Who do you want me to kill?”

  “It’s not who, so much as how,” the voice in Sammy continued. “I need you and your friends to be Munsees for the night, as you do so well. And as Munsees, you’ll ransack the house and kill whoever is inside. But most of all, I need you to kill one person, and I need you to make it messy. I want the entire city in an outrage.”

  “Who?” Jimmy asked, eyes gleaming. Maybe he could work with this guy after all.

  “Nicholas Stuyvesant.”

  Rory wiped the spray from his eyes, peering intently into the black mist that surrounded him. He believed that they’d been sailing for over a day, though the fog made it impossible to tell day from night. Lanterns glowed along the deck, sending faint tendrils of light floating out into the fog, but nothing could pierce the dark beyond the bow. He felt like their ship was the only one in the whole world. How were they going to find his dad in this mess?

  “I think your friend up there has a death wish,” said a voice behind him. Rory turned to see Captain Kidd strolling across the foredeck toward him, pointing to the mast. Fritz was up at the top, in the crow’s nest, staring out into the black.

  “He’s just keeping a lookout,” Rory replied. “I wanted to go up there, but he wouldn’t let me. He said he’d do it for me.”

  “He looks out for you, doesn’t he,” Kidd said. Rory nodded. He didn’t know where he’d be without Fritz.

  “How can you tell we’re going the right way?” Rory asked.

  “I’ve been sailing into the mist for centuries, boy,” Kidd said, smiling. He always seemed to smile. “I know as well as anyone how to make my way. You asked me to find the Half Moon, and we will find it.”

  “What if we miss them in the fog?” That was Rory’s biggest worry, seeing as they couldn’t see ten feet in front of the boat. But Kidd simply smiled wider.

  “Don’t you worry,” he said, his bared teeth glinting in the lamplight. “I know how to find ships in the open water. Some might call that my specialty.”

  Alexa stepped out onto the deck from below. Kidd bowed.

  “I trust your quarters are sufficient?” he said, winking at her. Alexa blushed.

  “I’m fine bunking with the guys,” she said. “I don’t need special treatment.”

  “Nonsense,” Kidd replied. “When a lady seeks adventure on the Adventure Galley, we strive to make it a comfortable journey. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make certain my helmsman hasn’t fallen asleep at the tiller again. That’s one of the difficulties with all this cold mist: all the lads seek out rum to warm their bones. Excuse me.”

  He bowed to Alexa, deeply, and strode off down the deck toward the rear of the ship. Alexa joined Rory at the bow, watching the pirate captain disappear into the stern.

  “He’s a charmer,” she said, shaking her head.

  “He’s a pirate,” Rory answered her. “Aren’t they all charmers?”

  “Most pirates were dirty killers and rapists,” she said with a wry smile. “But I guess mortals remember pirates a bit differently.”

  “I’m not sure if I trust Kidd,” Rory said.

  “I don’t trust any of them.” Alexa turned to stare out at the darkness. “They’re pirates. And Kidd is the worst of them, I bet. But beggars can’t be choosers, and so long as we keep up our guard, we’ve got a chance.”

  She sighed, gazing out into nothing.

  “Something wrong?” Rory asked, hesitant.

  “Simon’s in my quarters, sitting on the floor, mumbling under his breath. He’s been cracking under the strain and I don’t know what to do about it. And you . . . you look like you want to punch somebody, all the time.”

  “No, I don’t!”

  “Yes, you do.” Alexa turned to him, smiling sadly. “Not that I blame you. But I feel like I’m failing you all. If Nicholas were here, things would be going so much more smoothly. I’m not really meant to lead people, I think. I’m a number two. I helped my father, then I helped Nicholas. But now . . . I’m in over my head and I’m afraid someone is going to pay.”

  “That’s crazy,” Rory said firmly. “You’ve been great. Look where we are! We’re almost at the end. We’ve almost caught up to my dad. And you’ve held us together. I don’t think Nicholas could have done a better job than that.”

  “That’s very nice of you to say.” Alexa patted his hand. “Of course we’re on a pirate ship surrounded by criminals we can’t trust, but still, I see your general point. I just . . . I can see you burning with this anger, and it really worries me. I don’t know what you’ll do. We need you, Rory, more than anything, and that means you need to keep your head. Tell me you’ll do that.”

  Rory took a deep breath.

  “I will, I promise,” he said. But could he keep that promise? Until he came face-to-face with his father, he wouldn’t know for sure.

  They sailed onward into the unchanging mist, hours passing with no sign of the Half Moon. Rory and Alexa checked in on Simon, who still hadn’t left his bunk. The older boy started when they barged in, stuffing something into his pocket while a guilty look spread across his face.

  “What was that?” Alexa demanded.

  “Nothing.” Simon tried to look innocent but failed spectacularly.

  Alexa looked suspicious but didn’t press. “Why don’t you come up to the deck with me. Some air wi
ll do you good.”

  “No thanks.” Simon waved her off. “I hate the mist. I’d rather be down here trying to forget what we’re sailing into.” His face was green.

  “Suit yourself.” Alexa looked worried, but she didn’t press the issue. She and Rory returned topside, where Captain Kidd was waiting for them.

  “May I borrow the young master for a moment, dear?” Kidd patted Rory on the shoulder.

  “Why?” Alexa said, clearly not trusting the pirate.

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d indulge an old sea dog like myself. I just want to speak with him.”

  Alexa glanced at Rory, who shrugged.

  “Where am I gonna go?” he asked, and Alexa couldn’t really argue with that. So Rory followed Kidd belowdecks, down a claustrophobic corridor, past the first mate’s room, where Alexa was staying (Hendrick, who couldn’t seem to catch a break, was sleeping below with the crew). Through the slats in the boards he walked on, Rory spied the room below where ammunition was stored: gunpowder and cannonballs for the dozens of cannons that poked out of each side of the Adventure Galley. Nearby, oars lined the walls, waiting to be dipped into the water in case of a sea battle. One of the sailors, who went by the unlikely name of Hugh Parrot, had explained to Rory that having oars gave the ship more maneuverability during those deadly fights, which often meant the difference between victory and sinking to the bottom of the ocean. Rory hoped he never had to see any of the oars or cannons in action.

  Kidd reached the door to his cabin and invited Rory inside. Stepping into the large room, the boy had to admit he was impressed. Everything was gold: the paint on the walls, the furniture, even the rug. A large dining-room table sat in the middle of the room, which Kidd explained he used to entertain rich captives he kidnapped. A large cabinet stood behind the table, filled with expensive plates and goblets. The dinnerware was tightly lashed to the shelves, but Rory wondered if they’d survive a big storm. A half-open door to the side led into a similarly opulent bedroom, with what appeared to be a four-poster bed, whose sheets, Rory was not shocked to see, were also colored a bright gold. Windows lined the back of the dining room, looking out the stern of the ship. Stepping up to glance outside, he could see their wake disappear into the fog. Kidd leaned forward beside him to stare out at the water.

  “I didn’t begin my life at sea as a pirate, you know,” he said. Rory glanced over, but the man was still looking out into the distance. “I was hired by the good people of New York to chase pirates. And any French ships I might come across, of course. The King of England himself put money into my campaign. A privateer, they called me. I did very well. I shared the loot with the crown and the colony, and everyone was happy. I was a respected member of the community. I even helped build Trinity Church! And then . . . things began to go poorly for me.”

  “I grew up hearing all about your treasure,” Rory said, glancing about the gold-infused cabin. “It doesn’t look like you did too badly.”

  “It’s all relative, my boy,” Kidd said, repressing a smile. “Poorly from a respectability standpoint, at least. I lost most of my loyal crew to the British navy, who in those days would often sail right up to your ship on the open sea and take many of your ablest men by force to work their own sails. I replaced them as best I could, but most of the new men were old pirates with no loyalty to anyone but themselves. So when I began to have trouble finding French ships to plunder, they began to rumble. Mutiny was in the air. It came to a head when I happened upon a rich ship loaded with gold and silk and silver. They had French passes but an English captain. I knew it was a mistake, but my crew would have set me adrift in the middle of the ocean if I had refused them the spoils. So we took everything and sank the ship and thus did I truly became a pirate.”

  “So what you’re telling me is that you’re really not that bad a guy,” Rory said. Kidd laughed.

  “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.” He strode over to the small bar near the table to pour himself a drink. “I’d offer you some, but your fierce friend Alexa might run me through for corrupting a youth.”

  “Probably,” Rory answered absently. A growing sense of discomfort was rising up in his belly. This was going somewhere and he had a feeling he wouldn’t like the destination. Kidd took a long drink and set the glass down with a satisfied sigh.

  “Rum, a pirate’s best friend. Washes away all the guilt.”

  “What are you guilty about?”

  “I finally placed you,” Kidd said casually, refilling his glass. “You look just like one of Tew’s Boys. Their leader; at least I always believed him to be. An ancestor, I suppose?”

  Rory froze. “What are you talking about?”

  “Come now,” Kidd said, smiling. “I can see the way you look at me. What have you heard? That I hunted poor Thomas Tew down and murdered his crew and left him for dead? Such tales.”

  “That isn’t what you did?”

  “Goodness no. Tew hunted me down. He was tired of the competition. I fought him off, finally sinking his ship and leaving him on an island to rot.” Kidd’s eyes flashed and Rory saw a little of the hard pirate under the roguish charm. “But don’t worry. I have nothing but respect for you. After all, you are a Light.”

  Rory suddenly felt like he was going to throw up, but he refused to give in to it.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, bluffing furiously.

  “Don’t you?” Kidd laughed before taking a smaller sip of rum. “There have been rumors lately, about a Light who survived infanthood. That Light is you, is it not? There was a time, hundreds and hundreds of years ago, when your kind was more common. The walls between Mannahatta and Manhattan were thinner then, I guess. I even knew one of you when I was mortal. He was my first galley cook, John Tenpin, and he’d rave about what he’d seen. And some of his mates would whisper about spying these crazy things as well, once John pointed them out. After a while no one would speak with him for fear of what he’d make them see. It’s a difficult life, being a Light. But no one knows that better than you do, am I right?”

  Rory felt out of control. “What are you going to do?” he asked quietly. “Give me over to Kieft?”

  “Oh no,” Kidd replied, waving his drink in the air. “I despise the man, always have. If you are on some noble journey to take him down a peg, I am all for it. But as for my help . . . here is where it gets tricky.”

  “You promised!” Desperation made Rory bold. “You said you’d help me because Hendrick tried to kidnap me. You said we’d work something out.”

  “We are working something out,” Kidd replied, smiling with cold eyes. “What you ask of me now, sailing after a ghost ship, putting my entire crew at risk for no gain, that is far more than you get for simply being the victim of one of Hendrick’s little schemes. I need something more.”

  “Why did you wait until now to tell me this?” Rory asked.

  “Because I know how to bargain!” Kidd laughed. “Out in the middle of the ocean is a hard place to refuse an offer. Now, will I throw you overboard and let you sink to your death if you refuse me? Maybe. I’ve done it before. But if you say yes, then I will consider our bargain struck and I will help you all that I can.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?” Rory asked.

  “Because I will give you what you want first,” Kidd said. “I will continue to sail this ship in the direction you choose, until we find what you are looking for.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then, one day, I will arrive at your door. You will pack up your things and come with me on a long sea voyage. More than that, I will not say.”

  “When . . .”

  “Not now. Not tomorrow. Maybe not even next year. The time is not right yet. The world is too out of whack. But one day I will arrive and call your debt due. And you will come with me to see what only a Light can see. Do we have a deal?”

  Rory stared back at the old sea captain, wondering if he could trust him. But in the end, what choice did he have?
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  “I agree.”

  “Shake.” Kidd stepped forward, spitting on his hand. Rory spat on his hand as well and they shook. As their hands pumped, a shock ran up Rory’s arm and through his body. Kidd’s satisfied smile made him sick to his stomach.

  “Feel that? That means it’s a sealed deal. Now let’s go find that ship.”

  Alexa had questions for Rory when he rejoined her on deck after his meeting with Kidd, but he didn’t feel like sharing. He felt like an idiot. He should have seen this shakedown coming. The man was a pirate after all. What had he just signed up for?

  He stared out at the mist. Something in the air had changed. One of the sailors noticed it, too, and gave him a look.

  “Storm’s comin’,” the sailor said. “And it’s gonna be a big one . . .”

  20

  HOWLS IN THE DISTANCE

  Bridget and her companions decided to leave Seneca Village while everyone was still at church. Bridget wore a backpack Pierre had given her, which he stuffed with heavy jackets for the climb up the Great Hill (not that she needed one). Hans did an emergency check of his armor’s heating system, and after almost melting his eyebrows off, he pronounced everything shipshape. As she turned to say good-bye to Pierre, Bridget saw tears in his eyes. He gave her shoulder a squeeze.

  “Good luck,” he said. “And if you do ever find Abigail, tell her I’m sorry.”

  Bridget didn’t know what to say, so she gave the old trapper a hug. She hoped the old man found some peace here in his shack filled with lost memories.

  They passed out of the village quickly, heading into the trees to the north. Finn took the lead, with Soka right beside him. Bridget walked a bit behind, Hans in her pocket and Tucket by her side. Soka laughed at something Finn said, and Bridget grumbled.

  “Stupid boy.”