And so, as perplexed as she was by her meeting with the new Ben Hodgins, she had to admit she had no better ideas. She would listen as hard as she could and hope for an answer to her most pressing question, “How the flotsam am I going to deal with this blasted situation?”
Listen inside and out. Scarlet squeezed her eyes shut and tried to listen. Beside her, tangled in her own hammock, little Ronagh muttered in her sleep. Something about a pet monkey that juggled daggers and played the trombone. Despite herself, Scarlet giggled. Not exactly the answer she was looking for.
She slipped out of her hammock, pushed her bare feet into her boots, noted a new hole under the left big toe, and crept out of the cabin. No one else was awake except a pair of pirates on lookout duty. Even the sun had yet to peek over the horizon, although the sky was growing pale in preparation.
Listen. She stood on the quarterdeck and closed her eyes again. She heard the slap of waves against the hull and the cry of two gulls overhead. The wind whooshing in her ears. A fish breaking through the water close by. But no answers.
Maybe they weren’t going to make themselves heard so easily. Maybe she’d have to be quieter, stealthier, sneak up on them when they least expected it. The thought amused her, although she suspected that her lack of sleep was making it more amusing than it really was. Still, she decided to approach the task like a spy. She’d make herself scarce and listen all day.
The other Lost Souls began to emerge from their cabins just as the sun climbed over the horizon. They divvied up a few loaves of bread and some bananas stolen from port the previous day, then got down to their chores, quieter than usual. No one mentioned Lucas, but he was clearly on everyone’s mind.
Scarlet heard the first rumors while rounding a corner on the cabin deck, mid-morning. At the sound of hushed voices, she flattened herself against the wall and peeked around it, spying two boys whispering as they untangled fishing nets.
“They say the pigs got him, but I think he’s hiding,” said Elmo. “That’d be just like old Lucas, trying to get revenge by scaring us.”
“Shh,” Monty hissed, glancing around. “I heard Lucas went mad with fright that night and joined up with a band of monkeys. He’s out there now, swinging in the treetops.”
“That’s bilge!” Elmo exclaimed, then lowered his voice. “How would anyone know that?”
“I heard it from Stephen who heard it from Ronagh who heard it from Emmett, and Emmett was on the island searching for Lucas last night, so he’d know better than anyone.”
Monty shrugged. “Could happen.”
“Could not. Lucas is too big to swing in treetops. The branches would break.”
Scarlet rolled her eyes and moved away. Of course it was ridiculous—Lucas, captain of a posse of monkeys? Fitting perhaps, but complete bilge. Still, if rumors were already making the rounds, they’d probably grow more far-fetched by the hour.
She was sneaking past Lucas’s own cabin when her ears—now in full spy mode—picked up another intriguing conversation. This time one of the voices belonged to Gil Jenkins; she could tell even before she peeked into the room and saw the boy standing beside Lucas’s hammock with Sam and Charlie. Gil, looking regretful, held an old dagger that had lost its handle.
“This was his first weapon,” Gil told the others. “But it’s mine now, since I was closest to him.”
“Gil, you don’t know he’s dead for sure,” Charlie pointed out.
Gil shrugged and touched the dull blade. “But it’s most likely. Even Lucas couldn’t survive a pack of smelly wild pigs.” He bowed his head. “He would’ve made a good captain. Now there’s no way we can mutiny. Too bad. Would’ve been good fun.”
From her hiding place on the other side of the doorway, Scarlet gasped. So they had been planning to mutiny. Those rotten little stinkers. She edged closer to the door, imagining the looks on their faces if she leaped into the room and caught them in this act of treason. What was the punishment for treason, anyway? Maybe a good old-fashioned keelhaul, a torture reserved for only the nastiest offenders. It involved binding a traitor’s hands to a rope that passed underneath the ship, from bow to stern. He’d be thrown overboard, and the pirates on board would pull him back and forth under the vessel, like a human careening tool. Scarlet could practically taste the satisfaction she’d feel watching horrible little Gil Jenkins sputtering in the dark waters, begging for mercy.
Sam wiped his nose with his sleeve. “He was a strong pirate,” he said as if he’d come to Lucas’s empty hammock to pay his last respects.
“He probably would’ve led us to the treasure,” Charlie added. The boys fell silent for a minute, then looked at one another and shrugged as if they’d run out of respectful things to say. Even Scarlet couldn’t think of anything else to add. Strong and driven by the promise of the legendary treasure summed Lucas up pretty well.
The boys abandoned their eulogy and made ready to leave. Scarlet scurried back down the hallway and up the stairs to the main deck where she busied herself studying cracks in the floorboards. This listening-for-answers strategy had only resulted in a dozen more questions—like, for instance: Would Lucas really have made a good leader? A better leader than her? She tried to picture him as captain and decided that while he might keep their pockets full of pieces of eight (well, his own pockets, anyway), life under Lucas’s command would scuttle.
Lucas simply wasn’t a true Lost Soul. The Lost Souls’ way of life had never been good enough for him, and he’d even gone against one of their core beliefs to hoard bounty for himself. Lucas didn’t care about the crew. He only wanted the pillagings. Scarlet, on the other hand, cared fiercely about the Lost Souls. She wanted to lead them, and she wanted to do it well.
She stopped and looked out at the ocean. The sun shimmered on its surface as if fireworks were exploding just underneath. As she watched the sea, her ears picked up one last important sound, an almost foreign noise. It was the sound of silence on deck. Her crew was going about their chores without songs or jokes or banter, each on his or her own.
Scarlet chewed her lip. This would never do. The Margaret’s Hop was supposed to be a jolly home for children throughout the islands, and the Lost Souls counted on Scarlet to make it so. They also looked to her to fulfill their mission and lead them to the treasure.
It was time to make good on her promises.
“All good pirates, come to order!”
Scarlet stood on the poop deck near the wheel, looking down on her crew. She planted her boots firmly on the deck, swept her hair off her face, and set her fists on her hips. The crew looked back at her expectantly, and she saw a few glances pass between Lucas’s allies. Be strong, she told herself. Be Captain.
“I’m sure you’re all wondering why we dropped anchor for this meeting,” she began in her best captain voice. More glances passed, along with a few shrugs. “Well, you see, it’s . . .” Scarlet stopped. This wasn’t right. She sat down on the poop deck, swinging her legs out over the edge toward them. The Lost Souls clustered closer.
“All right. First I want to . . . apologize.” It was one of the hardest words she’d ever had to spit out. A few murmurs and eyebrows rose before her. “Of course I’m talking about Lucas. I didn’t mean for this to happen, and I’m no less upset than any of you that he’s disappeared. He broke an important rule, yes, but he didn’t deserve to . . . you know . . . if indeed he is . . .” Scarlet found that she couldn’t even say it. “Anyway, it’s made me think about my position as captain, as I know some of you have been doing, too.” Here she looked directly at Gil Jenkins, who flushed and folded his arms over his chest. Behind him, Jem was studying the floorboards with an intensity that told Scarlet he’d known about Lucas’s plan. Would he have joined the mutiny? she wondered, then dismissed the thought. Jem Fitzgerald was too good for that.
Scarlet shook her head and continued. “From
now on, if there’s a problem with the way things are run on board, I want you to tell me. Not your cabinmate. Me.” She surveyed Lucas’s followers, letting her eyes linger on Gil for a long moment. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then seemed to think better of it and shut it. Neither Charlie nor Sam made a sound. This didn’t surprise Scarlet; without Lucas to lead them, the rebels were practically powerless.
All the same, she still wouldn’t have minded keelhauling their sorry rear ends.
“I want you all to know that I’m not giving up on Lucas,” she said. “We’ll head back to the Island of Smelly Wild Pigs first thing tomorrow for another look around. We’ll look for clues and hopefully find some answers.”
A few crew members nodded. Gil looked a little nervous, probably because he’d already claimed some of Lucas’s belongings.
“We’re also not giving up on the treasure,” she added. “Our first attempt failed, but we’ll learn from it and try again.” She looked at Jem, who looked up from the floorboards and nodded. “I made a promise, and I’m not going back on it.
“But now, before heading back to Island X, there’s something we have to do.” She hoped they’d be up for this next part. “This is an important step in finding the treasure. Plus, it could be fun.” She hopped off the deck and stood among them. “Tonight, we’re going to get suited up for a raid.”
“A raid?” one pirate exclaimed.
“Yesss!” Ronagh punched the air.
A few others exchanged crafty grins and began to whisper among themselves.
“I’ll have to mend my cloak!” one cried.
“I’ve been practicing some new ghostly noises,” another pirate said excitedly. “Wanna hear?”
Scarlet smiled. Nothing brought the Lost Souls together like a ship raid.
“So what are we raiding for?” Emmett and Edwin chorused.
“Seriously,” Emmett added, “what’s the purpose of the raid?”
“Who cares?” Smitty yelled. “It’s a raid, mates. Let’s go.”
“Actually, there is a purpose. Three purposes, really. One: to scare the pants off some deserving pirates. Two: to steal the usual food and supplies. Three: to get some answers. From the Dark Ranger pirates.”
Someone gasped. “We’re raiding the Dark Ranger again?”
Scarlet scanned the crowd until she found the horror-stricken face she was looking for. “Don’t you worry, Fitz,” she said. “You can trust me.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“You look fantastic, Fitz.”
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
“If only you could see yourself. You’re high fashion in the world of ghosts and ghouls.”
“Raiding the Dark Ranger? Scarlet, are you out of your mind?”
“Look out, afterworld—here comes Fitz! C’mon, let’s see your most ghoulish strut.”
“You’re mad.”
She was madder than mad. Scarlet McCray was absolutely insane if she thought he was going to set foot on that ship again. Jem didn’t care how many layers of black cloth disguised him. He’d been lucky to escape Captain Wallace and his crew once; no way was he going to chance it again. No way. He folded his arms across his chest.
“Now, Fitz. It makes all the sense in the world,” Scarlet pleaded as she pinned up the hem of his cloak so he wouldn’t trip when he walked. (This, of course, only emphasized his being short and made him even less willing to cooperate.) “We know that the so-called Dread Pirate Hammerstein Captain Jones Wallace—or whatever his name is—is ridiculously afraid of us, and so is the rest of his crew. So we’ll hop on board, scare the trousers off ’em, search for some clues as to your uncle’s whereabouts, then leave. Oh, and maybe pinch a tin of herring or two. And some preserves if they have any.”
Jem stared at Scarlet, wondering if this whole Smelly Wild Pig fiasco had somehow altered her ability to think straight. She honestly seemed to believe that he’d benefit from this raid, that hopping onto the Dark Ranger might actually prove that his uncle was still alive. It was a nice thought, and one he wished he could believe in, but it didn’t seem possible. Scarlet seemed to have overlooked the fact that if Captain Wallace and his crew got their hands on him this time, he’d be shark bait. No doubt about it.
Smitty gave a whistle of admiration as he strolled through the cabin door, carrying his own cloak. “Nice outfit, Fitz.” Tim, Liam, and Ronagh followed, each with an armload of black cloth. They’d smeared coal dust all over their faces so only the whites of their eyes and their bared teeth would stand out against their cloaks.
“It suits you,” Liam commented, giving Jem a once-over.
“Brings out your eyes.” Ronagh laughed and batted her eyelashes at him.
“See?” Scarlet stood up to survey her hemming work. “I told you.” She turned to her friends. “Fitz here is scared he’ll get discovered even with the disguise. What d’you think?”
Smitty and Liam shook their heads.
“It’s never happened. Pirates everywhere fear the Ship of Lost Souls,” said Tim. “The legend has been around too long, and we appear often enough to keep them from forgetting it. Anyway, your cloak’s big enough to hide a cutlass underneath in case anything goes wrong. I’ll see if we have a spare for you.”
Jem gulped. He’d never wielded any weapon larger than his pocketknife, and even then it had only been to butter his bread.
“Now, Scarlet,” Tim said. “What’s going on with Gil Jenkins and Lucas’s little band of sheep? What were you talking about when you said some sailors have been questioning you as captain?”
Scarlet crouched to adjust Jem’s hem. “There was a plan to mutiny,” she murmured through the pins she held between her lips.
“Mutiny?” Ronagh screeched.
“What? Those little swabs! I’d like to see them try!” Smitty put one hand on the hilt of his cutlass.
Jem tried to look surprised at the news. He wondered how long Scarlet had known, and if she also knew that Lucas had asked him to join.
“Surely you aren’t taking it to heart, though,” Tim said. “I mean, they’re just a few troublemakers who need their ears boxed.”
Scarlet shrugged and drove a pin through Jem’s cloak.
Jem highly doubted that, if it came right down to it, anyone would actually mutiny against Captain McCray. But he didn’t offer his opinion aloud. Since he’d been on board for only a few days, his observations probably wouldn’t count for much. Plus, he had bigger, more pressing things to dwell on at the moment. Like the completely illogical plan to hop onto the ship of the pirates who’d kidnapped him and killed his uncle. And the nausea growing in his gut.
“Let’s not talk about it now. We’ve got a big raid ahead of us, and I want to make sure we’re organized so it goes smoothly,” Scarlet said. She took the pins out of her mouth and motioned for them all to sit down. They formed a circle, cross-legged, on the cabin floor. “There’ll be three parts to this raid, so I want to divide us into three teams. First, we’ll have a stealing crew made up of our best pillagers and led by none other than Quickfingers Smith.”
“At your service, Cap’n.”
“Then there’ll be a scaring team, which I’ll lead. Liam and Ronagh, you’ll come with me. We’ll terrorize the pirates until they tell us what we want to hear.
“Last, we have our searching team. Jem will lead that crew, and Swig, you’ll go, too. You’ll sneak around looking for clues as to your uncle’s whereabouts. Steal and scare if you must, but concentrate on the clues. Sound good?”
“Jolly!” the other pirates chorused. But Jem, though flattered that he’d been made captain of his very own team, could only muster a halfhearted “Great.”
“Come on, Fitz. We could do this with our eyes closed,” Smitty said. “Trust us. No one will ever recognize you
. No way.”
“Steady now, Smitty. Sure you can do this?”
Smitty paused, grappling iron and rope in hand, and shot Tim an irritated look. “Course I can do this, Swig. All it takes is a little aim.”
Tim shrugged and stepped back beside Jem and Scarlet. They stood on the quarterdeck with all the other Lost Souls, dressed in black, faces coated with charcoal. Beside and above them, the Dark Ranger loomed against the midnight sky. It felt like just yesterday that Jem had escaped this very schooner. He still couldn’t believe he was willingly going to climb on again. This was so far beyond logic it made his head spin.
Smitty squinted, lifted the grappling iron again, and prepared to hurl it over the Dark Ranger’s edge so they could get on board by climbing the rope attached to it.
“He’s never done this before?” Jem whispered to Scarlet as everyone watched Smitty take a few practice swings.
Scarlet shook her head, and her forehead wrinkled under a layer of coal dust. “Lucas always did it. He was the strongest and had the best aim.”
“I heard that,” Smitty called out. “And I’ll have you know I’m just as strong and just as—”
“Shut up, Smit,” Tim hissed. “Do it quick, before they spot us.”
“All right, all right.” With a grunt, Smitty wound up and launched the grappling iron toward the schooner’s side. The Lost Souls held their breath and watched the iron arcing through the air, illuminated by the moonlight. For a moment, it looked like it wouldn’t quite clear the ship’s edge, but it did, just barely, and anchored to the wood with a satisfying crack.
“Told you,” Smitty said. Scarlet patted him on the back.
“Jolly. All right, pirates, gather round. Quickly now. We’ll only have a moment before they notice the rope, and we want to be on board before they try to cut it.” All the Lost Souls, even Gil Jenkins, who’d previously taken orders only from Lucas, huddled around her. She placed a fist into the center of their circle, and one by one, they all wriggled their arms out of their cloaks to place their fists on top. Jem eyed the tower of hands. He could still refuse to go with them. Maybe he could guard the Margaret’s Hop. That sounded like an important job. Maybe . . .
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