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Abandoned Memories

Page 19

by Marylu Tyndall


  “So you think you’ve found your gold, I hear.” Blake kept his tone nonchalant.

  “Aye, we have. We be sure of it.” The twinkle in Ricu’s dark eyes confirmed his statement as he planted hands at his waist and surveyed the crowd.

  “Where?” Hayden asked as he took a spot in front of Magnolia.

  “In the temple.” Dodd clipped thumbs in his belt. “Can you believe it? Under our noses the whole time.”

  Silence, save for the crackle of the fire and sizzle of waves, permeated the group as nervous eyes skittered about. James shared a worried glance with Blake and Hayden.

  “You mean the moon and stars above the altar?” Eliza asked, voicing the hope they all felt.

  Pressing hair back at his temples, Patrick pushed his way through the crowd. “No. You may have those if you wish.” He flicked his hand through the air. “It is the gold beneath the temple that is the fortune we’ve been searching for.”

  James couldn’t believe his ears. Of all the places for this infernal gold to be located, why that heinous place?

  “Did you actually see this gold?” Blake crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Nay.” Captain Ricu stepped over a log and stood before the fire. “But maps led us straight to it.” He patted his colorful vest—where said maps were, no doubt, safely tucked—sending his pins sparkling in the firelight. “I should realize it before. The cannibals, the temple. It makes sense.”

  “I don’t understand.” James took a spot standing behind Angeline.

  “I ne’er told you tale of how I came by map?” A blast of wind tossed Ricu’s black curls behind him. “Aye, quite a tale it be.” His eyes, the color of the hot coals in the fire, sped to Hayden. “Thanks be to this estúpido who cut my anchor chain.”

  Ricu, now having gained an audience, lowered himself onto a stump, leaned forward on his knees, and swept his gaze over the assembled colonists. “We drift for week, hoist and lower sails, try stay close to shore so we fix anchor and not run into ground. We find berth in inlet near the port of Itaqui. And while we fix anchor chain, we go to town’s tavern.

  “There we met Bartolomeu Henrigues or Blastin’ Bart as he call himself, a Portuguese pirate, at least hundred years old. We had merry time drinking and playing cards into long night. But when I told him of gold I sought, he pull map from waistcoat. And this be the tale he told.” The captain’s eyes were alight with adventure while everyone leaned toward him to hear over the pounding waves.

  “His grandfather be a fierce pirate who sail under Portugal flag and raid along coast of Brazil and Caribbean. Legends of vast amount of gold—enough to buy entire world—lure him to land on Brazil shores. A search of jungle brought he and crew to strange temple with stone obelisks and steaming water pool.”

  “Just like the one we found.” Magnolia’s voice came out numb with shock.

  “Aye.” Ricu nodded, fingering the tuft of dark hair on his chin. “Only few cannibals remain and pirates torture them to find where gold be, but they ne’er say a word, kept make gestures about fierce beast who come up from ground and made tribe go louco and kill each other.”

  A few of the ladies gasped, including Mrs. Scott, who leaned against her husband.

  James swallowed a lump of dread.

  “Then pirates see things. Dead people talk to them. Terrible nightmares. Yet they keep search for gold, dig where cannibals say it buried. But visão get worse and worse, and nightmares grow until pirates get crazy and shoot and stab each other.” Red and gold flames danced over Ricu’s face as he stared at the fire, mesmerized by his own tale. Or perhaps as frightened by it as most of the colonists seemed to be.

  James gazed at Angeline, longing to see her expression, but her back was to him. Would that be their fate if they remained? If they allowed the visions and nightmares to continue? Would they all go mad and either kill each other or themselves?

  “What happened to them?” Dodd asked, the joy of only moments ago slipping from his expression.

  Ricu grunted. “Only four remained and fear to kill the others. They not care about gold, but they not want such fortune lost, so they draw four maps that when put together lead to gold. Then they each take map and leave Brazil. Go in different directions, get far from each other and temple. They say if God want, others bring maps together and get gold.” Ricu patted his vest yet again and proclaimed, “Blastin’ Bart gave me one map. These men”—he pointed at Dodd and Patrick—“had others. That is story.”

  Moonlight dripped pearly wax on Captain Ricu’s ebony locks as the fire snapped and spit sparks into the night sky. Some of the colonists continued to gape at him as if they thought him as crazy as the pirates he spoke of. Blake gazed numbly into the fire. Eliza looped an arm through Angeline’s, while Hayden drew Magnolia close, a fear rolling across his features that James felt in his gut.

  “You can’t dig there, beneath the temple,” James spoke up, forcing authority into his voice. “You’ll release the fourth beast.”

  Captain Ricu stared at him as if he were a two-headed fish that had just emerged from the sea. A similar expression twisted Patrick’s features. Dodd, however, dropped his gaze to the sand.

  Patrick released a long sigh. “Of course we can. And we will.”

  “Dodd, you know this to be true.” James turned to the ex-lawman. “You’ve seen what we’ve seen. You know what happened to Graves when he released the third beast.”

  Though hesitation sparked in his gaze, Dodd shrugged. “I’m not sure what I’ve seen.”

  “Beasts! Ridiculo!” Ricu spit onto the sand, his outburst causing a few colonists to flinch.

  James shook his head. “But, you just told us there were beasts, Captain, the ones who drove the cannibals and pirates mad.”

  A rumbling broke forth from the captain’s throat. “You believe?” He tried to contain his amusement. “This be louco pirates’ tale.”

  “But you believe the part about the gold.” Eliza raised a brow. Snorting, Ricu rose. “We dig up gold. You see. I am Captain Ricu, and I take what I want when I want.”

  And with that, he marched away.

  Later that night, after everyone had retired, James sat alone by the fire with the ancient book in hand and his father’s Bible lying on a log beside him. He alternated between praying, reading the Bible, and interpreting more of the Hebrew script. But his eyelids kept sinking, and he wasn’t sure he was learning anything useful. He chastised himself for not studying Hebrew with more diligence when he’d been a young man learning to be a preacher like his father. But back then, he hadn’t taken life very seriously, except the feel of a beautiful woman in his arms. What a wastrel he’d been and a disappointment to his parents. Especially when he’d run off to become a doctor and joined the war.

  The wind had lessened, the waves now stroked instead of pounded the shore, their caress so soft, he could hear the pirates snoring down the beach. Sand crunching brought his gaze up to see Blake and Eliza heading his way, their drooping eyes telling him they’d lost their battle with sleep as well.

  Blake acknowledged him with a nod before tossing a log into the fire and taking a seat beside his wife. Moments later Hayden and Magnolia joined them.

  “I thought you were still awake when I left the tent.” Eliza patted the spot beside her for Magnolia, who sat, adjusted her skirts, and drew her long braid of flaxen hair over her shoulder. “I heard you leave and decided it was better to have company than lie in the dark alone with my thoughts.” She gazed up at her husband standing by her side. “No sooner did I step outside than Hayden dashed up to me.”

  He winked at her. “At your service, Princess.” He turned to James. “So, Doc, can the pirates release this fourth monster?”

  “You finally believe?” James gave a grin of victory he didn’t truly feel before he closed the book and set it down. “Only a man with pure darkness in his heart who speaks the phrase above the alcove can release the beast.”

  “Whose heart is darker than a pi
rate’s?” Magnolia dug her toes into the sand.

  “But what pirate knows Latin?” Eliza added with a hint of hope.

  “What cannibals do?” James shrugged. “They don’t have to know the language. They only need to speak the words out loud. We can’t risk it. We must stop them from digging for that gold. If the fourth beast exists, we cannot allow him to be set free. From what I’m reading, his release would affect the entire world.”

  “The entire world? How can that be?” Hayden asked.

  “Oh my.” Eliza shook her head.

  Magnolia grabbed her husband’s hand and gazed at the jungle. “Look what Destruction has done to us already.”

  “Nearly destroyed us,” Blake said.

  Wind blasted over them, whirling sand through the air. Hayden coughed. “And I don’t think he’s finished.”

  “Then even if the pirates get their gold and let us go, leaving Brazil wouldn’t help.” Blake’s forehead wrinkled.

  “No.” James glanced up to see Angeline emerge from the shadows, the same blanket he’d given her wrapped around her shoulders.

  “I heard voices.”

  “We didn’t mean to wake you.” Eliza stood and gestured for her to sit beside her.

  “I wasn’t sleeping.” She lowered to the log. “What are we discussing?”

  When no one answered, she lifted her violet eyes to James, moist and glimmering in the firelight. Moonlight circled her head like a halo. James swallowed. Was there ever a more beautiful woman? “Pirates and beasts,” he said. “Not exactly topics to aid restful sleep.”

  “But important ones we need to discuss,” Blake added.

  Stowy peeked out from Angeline’s blanket and began pouncing on the firelight flickering over the cloth. “What I don’t understand is how a fortune in gold came to be hidden beneath the temple,” she said. “Whose gold is it?”

  “I don’t know,” James said. “Perhaps it was put there as bait to lure men to dig up the beasts.”

  Blake nodded. “Good thinking, Doc. That makes sense. Why else would it be placed in the tomb of the last beast?”

  “Mercy me, who would do such a thing?” Magnolia asked.

  James rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s almost like God Himself planted a test for mankind. Much like the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Will man choose evil for riches? Or will he deny himself and choose good?”

  “But the pirates drew the maps that led to the gold, not God,” Eliza shot back.

  James smiled at her defense of the Almighty. “No, but God knew they would. He also knew what the first two beasts would lead man to do. Beasts whom I believe the cannibals released accidentally.”

  “Is that to be our fate?” Angeline’s voice caught. “Are we to end up killing each other?” She lowered her chin, and James knew she thought of her plunge into the sea.

  “We won’t allow it to get that far,” Blake stated with authority.

  An ominous growl sounded from the jungle, drawing all their gazes. Several minutes passed as the crackling of the fire joined the sound of waves lapping ashore.

  “Wait, I just remembered something.” Hayden rubbed the stubble on his jaw, his eyes wide. “Remember that priest I told you about? The one I met in Rio?”

  James nodded. “You said he mentioned a fire lake.”

  “Yes, and something about a temple and pure evil. A force that could not be defeated.” Hayden stared at the fire. “He also said something really odd. At the time I thought he was crazy. He told me I was one of the six. That I had to go back. That only the six could defeat the evil.”

  “Six.” James thumbed the scar on his cheek. “Didn’t Graves say something about six?”

  “That’s right,” Eliza said. “I remember him saying that there weren’t six yet. That there can never be six.”

  “Six what? People? Us?” Angeline asked.

  “I don’t know, but I’m hoping this book holds the answer.” James gripped the large leather tome and drew it back into his lap.

  “The answer to stopping pirates?” Hayden snorted. “I doubt it. We have no weapons and they outnumber us.”

  “No. Not pirates.” James swallowed. “The beasts.”

  Hayden chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, that’s so much easier than defeating pirates!”

  “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord,” James said, wondering where the phrase came from. Had he read it in scripture? Either way it poured from his mouth before he gave it a thought. The effect was astounding. Instead of snorting in disbelief or taunting him for uttering a religious platitude, his friends nodded and stared at the sudden explosion of sparks from the fire ascending into heaven.

  James had no idea how they would get out of this mess. But he knew one thing: This was not just a battle against pirates. This was a battle against pure evil.

  C

  HAPTER 23

  Angelina’s face hit the sand. Hard. Grains imbedded in her cheek. They filled her nose and mouth. Wind howled in her ear, holding her down. Muffled screams surrounded her. What was happening? She’d been dreaming of trains—large trains with their chug-a-chug clank of wheels turning on iron tracks, their huge snorts of steam filling the air, and their mighty roar when they reached full speed. It was that roar that woke her, sent her barreling from the women’s shelter with Stowy in her arms.

  Straight into a wall of wind that knocked her to the ground on her stomach, shoved the air from her lungs, and sent pain across her shoulders.

  Through the blur of sand, she saw the pink hue of dawn lining the horizon, lifting the shroud of night. She tried to move, but it felt like a hundred bricks lined her back. Sarah dropped to her knees beside her, Lydia bundled in her arms. She tugged on Angeline’s arm. Her mouth moved but the wind stole her words. Hayden clutched Angeline’s other arm, and they hefted her to stand, only to be shoved backward. All three of them rammed into the women’s shelter. The wood snapped with a loud crack, and the palm fronds that made up the roof flapped and flailed until the wind broke them free and they billowed toward the sky like wings of a giant bird. The other shelter beside it suffered the same fate, disappearing into the clouds as the tempest scooped up clothing and supplies and tossed them like an angry, spoiled child.

  Thiago darted toward them gesturing toward a cliff down shore. Shielding her eyes from the wind and sand, Angeline scanned the beach. Blurs that must be people darted back and forth, falling to the ground and then struggling to rise again. Beyond them, the sea was calm, clear, and smooth…

  Like glass. What?

  The sting of sand and salt in her eyes was, no doubt, making her see things. She rubbed them, but it only made them hurt more. Still, the placid sea remained. Thiago wrapped an arm around Sarah and started toward the massive rocks at the north end of their beach where several people took shelter. James came alongside Angeline, while a call for help sent Hayden down shore. Protecting her with his body, James drew her close, shoving his back to the wind. But it kept changing direction. Stowy let out a chilling howl, and Angeline hunched to shield him between her and James as they turned and twisted their way over the sand. Or, more like, through the sand as there seemed to be more of it in the air than on the ground. Grains pricked her skin and clothes like a thousand needles.

  Pieces of wood, clothing, even small tools flew through the air. A chunk of firewood struck James. He moaned and forged ahead. His scent of sweat, smoke, and James filled Angeline’s nose, bringing her a modicum of comfort.

  Once at the cliffs, he pressed her against the rock wall, kissed her cheek, and sped away to help others. The wind’s violence reduced to but a slap as the cliff absorbed the force of its punch. Angeline hunkered down, along with other colonists, and shielded her face as best she could. Something struck her head. Loosening her grip on Stowy, she reached up to rub the wound. The frightened cat leapt from her arms and sprinted away. Within seconds, his black fur was swallowed up in a cloud of sand.

  �
�Stowy!” Shoving from the cliff, Angeline dashed after him, fear cinching her throat shut. Someone called her name, but it didn’t matter. This wind would toss Stowy around like a rag doll, and she couldn’t stand to lose him. Dodging flying branches and half blinded by sand, she plunged into the jungle. “Stowy!” A flash of black fur up ahead kept her stumbling forward.

  Leaves slapped her. Branches stabbed her. Dirt and sand assailed her. Her skirts billowed, then slammed against her legs, then flapped right, then left. Her hair flailed about her head as if someone tugged on it from all directions. She struggled for each breath, barely able to hear her own thoughts—even the ones that shouted the invisible beast’s name, Destruction. Was he the cause of this mayhem?

  “Stowy!”

  The cat crouched near a boulder, his fur standing on end, his eyes skittery with fright.

  Someone darted past her, dove onto Stowy, rolled onto his side, and came up with the cat in his arms. Wind tossed light hair in a frantic dance above sky-blue eyes.

  Dodd.

  He smiled, rose to his feet, and fought his way through flying debris toward her. Dodging a large frond, she reached for Stowy, but he held the cat back. Instead he leaned toward her ear and shouted, “I know a cave nearby. It’ll be safe. I’ll take you there.” His spit splattered on her neck.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you!” She tugged on Stowy until finally Dodd released him. He took a step back, disappointment burning in his eyes. Then grabbing her hand, he tugged her forward. “I’ll keep you safe,” he shouted, ducking a flying branch.

  Jerking from his grip, she hugged Stowy and backed away. The wind drove her against a tree trunk, whipped hair in her face. Squinting against a blast of dirt, Dodd went for her again, but she turned and sped away. A crack as loud as thunder pummeled her ears. She spun around. Something above Dodd moved. A massive branch loosened from the canopy and came crashing down. Dodd’s eyes met hers. She started toward him, gesturing for him to move. He looked up. Terror rang in his eyes just as the branch struck him.

 

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