The Expeditioners and the Secret of King Triton's Lair

by S. S. Taylor

  I carefully slid my spyglass out of my vest pocket and focused on Brioux and Leo Nackley, then pressed the button of the listening device. “—would be a fine thing, wouldn’t it, to ransom the famous Explorer Leo Nackley.” Brioux’s voice rang out of the tiny speakers on my spyglass, loud enough for all of us to hear. “I was hoping you had found the oil for me, but a hostage may do just as nicely. I wonder how much money BNDL would pay for you, Mr. N. We’ll find out once we sail back to St. Beatrice.”

  “They’re on their way,” Leo Nackley said. “In fact, they’ll be here any minute and I don’t think they’ll be very happy to see you.”

  Monty Brioux let out a loud laugh. “They’ll never make it. We’ll see them before they see us, and they’ll be sorry they ever sailed these waters.” He brandished his pistol in the air.

  Now it was Leo Nackley’s turn to laugh. “You have no idea,” he told them, his pale face sweaty and exhausted. “They aren’t coming in a fishing boat.”

  “Well, either way, we’re ready for them. You and your son will fetch a tidy sum. Now, sit there and don’t move.”

  The two female pirates were standing closer to us and now Monty Brioux approached them. The first one was a short, wiry woman with spiky blue hair and a blue cape. She looked lithe and fast and had a little dagger tucked into her belt. The other woman was much taller, wearing a long dress that was tattered and dirty at the bottom. She had bright pink hair in tangled braids and a scowl on her face.

  “All right,” Monty Brioux said in a low voice. “He says BNDL’s coming, so we’ve got to wrap this up. Bluebird: you, Rascal, and Hickory take the Nackleys out to the ship. I’ll stay behind to deal with the other two.”

  “Okay, but what are you going to do with them?” asked the small blue-haired woman. When she turned my way, I could see a pistol holstered next to the little dagger and a Longsword jammed into the other side of her belt. She kept a hand on the pistol while she talked.

  “What do you think?” Monty replied. “No reason to let them live. I’ll dump their bodies in the ocean and no one ever needs to know. We’ll tell the Nackleys we’re leaving them behind on the island so they don’t get too excited. Now go. Pearl,” he turned to the tall pirate with the braids, “you stay with me.”

  Through the spyglass, I watched Bluebird walk down the beach toward the three male pirates who were guarding Lazlo, Jack, and Kemal near the tents.

  “Hey, Rascal. Stop that,” she called to a tall man dressed in many shades of green. His kelp-green hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and his aqua leather boots reached up to his knees. He had Lazlo with his back against a palm tree, and held a wicked-looking dagger out in front of him, jabbing it into the tree, inches from Lazlo’s neck, again and again. Lazlo’s expression of terror seemed to strike the pirate as hilarious, and he laughed hysterically each time Lazlo flinched.

  “Monty told you not to be an idiot,” Bluebird said, slamming the palm of her hand against his upper arm.

  She pulled him away from Lazlo and through the spyglass, I could hear her whisper: “Monty wants to take your boy there and his father out to the ship. The other two are fish food, okay?”

  “Okay.” He smiled and moved his feet in a happy little dance, as though the idea that he’d get to kill Jack and Kemal had made his day.

  “In the meantime, Rascal, don’t do anything stupid,” Bluebird said. We watched as she stepped over to the other two pirates, who were also guarding Lazlo, Jack, and Kemal. One of them was short and fat, with long red hair hanging loose to his shoulders. He wore glasses with blue lenses and a woven cap that he’d bent into the shape of a captain’s hat.

  “Morris,” Bluebird barked. “You and Rascal are staying here to finish off the collateral once we’ve made the trade.” Then she grinned at the other pirate, a lanky straw-haired boy with a huge pistol strapped across his bare chest. She said to him, “This is your lucky day, Hickory. You and I get to take the most precious cargo out to the ship with Pearl and Monty.”

  I turned and looked at the others to see if they’d heard everything. The expression on their faces told me they had. We all nodded and made our way back to the far beach to make a plan.

  “If it were just the Nackleys, I’d be inclined to let Monty Brioux go ahead and ransom them,” Zander said, pacing around. “But you heard what they said about Kemal and Jack. We’ve got to do something.”

  “But what can we do?” I said. “There are ten of them and five of us. And they have weapons and—”

  We all looked down at the swords that Joyce still had tucked into her belt. She smiled and handed one to Zander. When he pulled it out of its hilt, it gleamed in the early sunlight.

  He swung it at the low-hanging branch of a palm tree and it sliced the branch in two with a neat snick. Joyce pulled the other sword out of its sheath and got into her fencing stance, holding the blade out in front of her and swinging it a few times to test its weight. I knew it was heavy, but she wielded it gracefully. “Okay, Zander West, how are we going to do this?”

  Zander thought for a moment. “We need a two-pronged attack,” he said. “From the water and from the woods on the sides of the beach. It’s the only way. We might have a chance at fighting them if we can trap them on the beach. Here.” He drew a little map in the sand, making an X to represent the zone between water and beach. “M.K., what do you think? Can Amy help us out from the water? She was pretty banged up.”

  M.K. pushed her bangs out of her eyes and broke out into a big grin. “Of course she can! I may have to make a few adjustments, but I think she’ll be fine.”

  “Great. Now, our only hope is to force them toward the water and then take them out one at a time. Joyce and I are handiest with the swords.” Sukey frowned and said nothing, and Zander went on, “It’s just true, Suke. If we needed a pilot, you’d be my choice all the way. But right now, we need to figure out how to make it so Joyce and I aren’t taking on all six of them at the same time. We need you and Kit to distract a couple of them and draw them away from their friends. This may be the most important part of the plan. There are more of them than there are of us, but we can even things up if we can attack while their attention is elsewhere.” He drew a little arrow at one side of his diagram. “Walk out onto the beach here as though you have no idea what’s going on, as though you were just out for a walk and you’re coming back. At least two of them will go for you. Hopefully they’ll just try to tie you up.”

  “Hopefully?”

  Zander waved the stick. “Don’t worry. I’m sure they won’t shoot you or anything. Once a few of them are occupied with you, then Joyce and I will come down on the other side of the beach and take out the other ones. Then we’ll loop back around and rescue you two. Joyce, what do you think? Can the two of us take on the remaining four pirates?”

  Joyce took the stick from him and ran it along the diagram, thinking. “Or if we wait for the woman with the blue hair and the short one and the shirtless guy to get into the boats with the Nackleys, we’ll only have Brioux and the other man and Pearl to deal with. But I’m worried that if we wait that long, we’re putting Kemal and Jack’s lives in danger. Brioux has a pistol—when he sees us coming, he might decide to just get them out of the way. I think you’re right—we need to make our move. Zander and I will attack from the back of the beach. If we can drive them to the water, then M.K. can help take them out once she’s dealt with their ship. Kit and Sukey, you’ll need to untie the Nackleys and Jack and Kemal so they can help us. Okay?” We nodded.

  Zander silently traced his stick across the map, making little arrows and lines. I figured that he was weighing the different options for the attack, thinking through all the possible outcomes.

  “Okay,” he said finally. “It’s decided.”

  M.K. got into Amy and we all helped to push the submersible back into the water. M.K. started the engine and we waved to her through the glass as she disappeared under the surface of the water.

  Zander reached
out to touch Sukey’s cheek, then patted me on the shoulder. “You guys okay? You know what you need to do?” We nodded. I didn’t like the way Sukey held his gaze a couple of seconds longer than she needed to.

  “All right,” I said. “Let’s get going already.”

  We walked silently along the path back to the beach. I was terrified, my heart beating, my hands shaking. When we reached the edge of the beach, Sukey squeezed my hand. “Think of it this way,” she whispered. “For the rest of our lives, we’ll be able to tell the story of the time we fended off a wicked band of pirates.”

  Forty-three

  Sukey and I crashed through the undergrowth and came out onto the sand, singing and talking and generally making as much noise as we possibly could.

  “Hey everyone, we’re back!” I shouted, stopping in my tracks and trying to look surprised when I saw the pirates. “Wait, what’s going on here? Who are you guys?”

  The blue-haired woman and the tall shirtless pirate were untying Leo Nackley’s hands in preparation for marching him to the boat. Bluebird looked up and yelled, “Who’re they? I haven’t seen those ones before. The Indorustan boy said there weren’t any more people on the island!”

  “Well, we lied,” Kemal said, looking up at me, trying desperately to communicate something with his eyes. I shot him a look that I hoped let him know we were in control. “And I’m not Indorustan,” Kemal said, “I’m an Ottomanlander.”

  “Where did you two come from?” Monty Brioux bellowed. He swung his pistol around, pointing it straight at my head.

  “We’ve been here for days. We just went for a walk,” Sukey said. “Who are you? What’s going on here? Did you get shipwrecked too?”

  Sukey and I started walking down the beach, toward the water. We had to draw them right down to the waterline.

  “Hickory!” Monty Brioux yelled to the shirtless pirate. “Don’t just stand there!”

  “Don’t move, you two. Stay right there!” Hickory shouted. He and Bluebird followed us down the beach, walking very slowly, their hands on the pistols at their belts.

  “If I waited for you two to handle the situation I’d be here all day!” Monty Brioux strode down the beach to us, sticking his pistol in my face and saying, in a low, controlled voice, “I won’t ask you again. Who are you?” Close up, I could see that his long purple cloak was made of Gryluminum chain mail. In addition to the pistol, he had a sword, sheathed in a thick metal belt at his waist. I wished there was some way I could warn Zander about this extra weapon we hadn’t factored into our plan.

  “You two, get over there with your friends,” Bluebird said. “Tie them up, Morris.” We put our hands up and the fat red-haired pirate started toward us. But before he reached us, I waved my hands in the air.

  “Hey, Morris,” I shouted. “Come and get me.” I did a little dance on the sand, waggling my fingers and swiveling my hips, all while sticking my tongue out at him. It seemed to make him mad.

  “You little brat,” he yelled and made a leap for me. I jumped to the side and he fell flat on his face on the sand.

  “I love your hair,” Sukey called to Bluebird. “Do you dye it yourself or was there some kind of accident?” She took off running down the beach. Bluebird followed.

  Two down. Now it was up to Zander and Joyce.

  Morris jumped in my direction again, his red hair swinging, his small eyes angry behind the lenses of his glasses.

  From the thick vegetation up above the beach, we heard two loud whoops, and Zander and Joyce came leaping out of the trees at the back of the beach, both of them brandishing their swords.

  “On guard, Monty Brioux!” Zander shouted.

  Monty Brioux whirled around in confusion, holding the pistol out in front of him. We heard a loud bang, but instead of a bullet, we saw a long thin stream of light come out of the barrel. I closed my eyes, but it was Morris who fell to the ground in front of me, clutching his leg.

  “My leg! My leg! You shot me!”

  “Shut up, Morris!” Monty Brioux snapped. “It’s just a little burn. Get up and fight!”

  Hickory and Pearl, her pink braids swinging, unsheathed their swords and advanced slowly upon Zander and Joyce. The green-haired pirate named Rascal was still trying to untie Leo Nackley’s hands, but it looked like he was having trouble.

  “Come on!” Zander shouted to Hickory. “I don’t think you can catch me!”

  Hickory lunged with his sword, which allowed Zander to strike a blow that knocked Hickory’s weapon to the ground.

  Hickory reached for the pistol slung around his chest. But Zander delivered a quick conk to the back of Hickory’s head and the pistol fell from his hands. The lanky pirate sank down onto the sand, looking like he would be out for a while.

  Meanwhile, Joyce and Pearl were circling each other warily, swords drawn. They were both nimble as they moved carefully around each other. If Mr. Turnbull had been here, he would have shouted, “Engage! Engage! This isn’t a dance party!”

  Joyce feigned a move to the right and then darted back, bringing her sword down on Pearl’s shoulder. Pearl stumbled but came back up, swinging her sword and catching Joyce on her left arm. A thin line of blood appeared on Joyce’s bicep and I heard Sukey say, “She got you, Joyce! Careful!”

  “I’ll get you again,” Pearl said, waving her sword in crazy, swooping arcs.

  Joyce still looked calm, but I could tell that she was angry. She swung her sword viciously, forcing the pirate back toward the trees.

  Morris was still on the ground, rubbing his leg. I looked behind me and saw Bluebird advancing on Sukey, pushing her back toward the water’s edge.

  The last pirate, Rascal, had his sword out and he was advancing on Zander. Zander waited for him to come for him and then danced away, moving them to the other side of the beach.

  Clang. We heard steel meet steel and then turned and saw Pearl sprawled on the sand, her sword a couple of feet away from her outstretched arm. Joyce picked it up and tucked it into her belt. “Stay where you are,” she told Pearl and went to Sukey’s aid, sprinting down the beach toward Bluebird. The blue-haired pirate whirled around, pointing her pistol at Joyce, who swung at her arm with the sword and knocked the pistol to the ground. Sukey kicked her in the rear end while her back was turned and Joyce forced her down onto the sand and kicked the pistol out of her reach.

  “Take the Nackleys to the ship!” Monty Brioux called to Rascal.

  “Ahoy! A little help!” He called out to the ship.

  “Be careful, Zander, there are more on the boat,” Kemal said quietly.

  And indeed, the pirates out on the ship had noticed what was going on, and a few of them were getting ready to jump down into the water and wade to shore.

  We all watched the little bay. It looked peaceful, the water blue and serene despite the scene on shore.

  “Hurry, you idiots,” Monty Brioux shouted.

  Come on, M.K.

  “Now I’m going to deal with you, young man,” Monty Brioux said. “Rascal, get him!” Rascal turned his pistol on Zander, inches away from pulling the trigger.

  And just then, Amy’s egg-shaped head broke the surface of the water with a huge splash, like a giant gleaming sea creature leaping from the depths.

  Her tentacles whipped back and forth. We could just barely see a determined-looking M.K. through the glass, her arms working away at the controls.

  “What the hell is that?” Rascal said, dumbfounded. In one fluid movement Zander had leaped upon him, tackling and disarming him, then pinned him to the ground. “Whoa,” Joyce called out. “Good one.”

  Zander punched Rascal once. “Stop struggling,” he said, then punched him again. The pirate lay back, defeated.

  Amy’s hose arm whipped back and forth and then, with a great whoosh, it sprayed water at the pirates on the pirate ship. M.K. motored forward to spray them again at even closer range.

  The men scurried to the long swivel guns on deck. I hoped that M.K. knew what she was do
ing.

  A deafening boom echoed across the beach and we saw a cannonball shoot out of Amy’s eighth arm and blow a hole in the starboard hull. The pirates leapt screaming off the deck. Monty Brioux stood there, dumbfounded, watching as his ship began to sink.

  “Monty Brioux,” Zander shouted, “you’ve been beat.” He ran toward the pirate, brandishing his sword, and Brioux spun around and pulled his own sword from its sheath on his belt and countered Zander’s first swing with his own.

  Sukey gasped as Brioux swung again, forcing Zander to jump back.

  Zander and the pirate danced across the sand, matching each other blow for blow, their swords clanging against each other.

  “Drop your sword, boy!” Monty Brioux shouted to Zander.

  Zander grinned as he delivered a wicked blow to Brioux’s blade. He swung again and I was sure he had him when Brioux leapt out of the way and then turned his sword on Zander, whacking him on the back of the knees and forcing him to the ground.

  “Let him go!” Joyce picked up Bluebird’s sword and advanced on Brioux. He looked momentarily panicked and then turned to defend himself, giving Zander the opportunity to pick up his sword again and hold it to Brioux’s back.

  “We’ve got you,” Zander said. “Now, why don’t you drop your sword?”

  But before Brioux could answer, we all heard an impossibly loud whoosh from the bay, and a hulking, dark monstrosity broke the surface of the water.

  The giant submarine rose from the water like a city emerging from the deep. It was as long as a city block and shaped like a torpedo, its nose pointing up as the water ran off the hull in torrents.

  It looked fit to travel in the world’s most dangerous waters, a warship impervious to storms or tides or giant eels. No wonder the turtles had had to destroy the city. They never could have kept this thing away, not with a thousand turtles whipping up waves.