The Lost Treasure #4

by Ellis Byrd

  “Well . . .” Cosmo let out a slow breath. “I think I might be a little bit claustrophobic.”

  Wylie blinked. “What does claustrophobic mean?” He peered curiously at Cosmo.

  “Afraid of small spaces,” Liza explained. “Cosmo, I’m so sorry. I had no idea! Don’t worry, Greely and I will get us out of here.”

  While Wylie tried to calm Cosmo down, Liza and Greely inspected every inch of the short tunnel.

  “I suspect this wasn’t always a dead end,” Greely said. “These rocks are packed incredibly tight, but there are some cracks.”

  “Another cave-in, perhaps?” Liza replied.

  Greely frowned. “It would seem so. But what caused them?”

  “Maybe the question is who caused them,” Liza mused as she ran her paw over the rocky surface. “Oh, I can feel more roots here. Cosmo’s right—those trees really do have an incredible reach.”

  “That’s it!” Wylie jumped up and grabbed Cosmo’s arm. “That’s how we’re going to get out. Cosmo can ask the trees to help us!”

  Cosmo blinked. Then a slow smile spread across his face. “Of course!” He leaped up and hurried to the back of the tunnel, placing both paws on the root that twisted between the dense rocks. His panic subsided as he listened to the tree’s advice.

  “It’s not as thick as it looks,” Cosmo murmured at last, and Liza stepped closer.

  “The root?”

  “No, this wall!” Cosmo kept one paw on the root and reached the other higher until he felt a small rock wiggle. “This one’s loose!” He pulled it out and tossed it to the ground. Wylie pried loose the medium-size rock that had been next to it, followed by several more small rocks. Soon, the two koalas had created an opening large enough to see through.

  “Greely, you were right!” Cosmo cried. “This tunnel isn’t a dead end at all!”

  “Nice work, Cosmo,” Liza said, looking pleased. “We’ll be through these caves and on the beach in no time.”

  Cosmo grinned, patting the root thankfully. “And I was just starting to like it down here,” he joked.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Excellent—that’s shaping up to be a fine sail!” Graham beamed at the otters and monkeys busily sewing several of the enormous lily pads together. “Now remember, Eugenie is in charge while I’m gone. Any questions, just ask her!”

  Eugenie blushed. “Thanks, Graham. We’ll have the sails finished by the time you get back!”

  “I have complete faith in you,” Graham said, waving goodbye. He hurried down the beach to join Sir Gilbert and Peck, who were waiting at the edge of the jungle to help him search for the supplies he still needed. “Those lily pads were perfect,” he told them excitedly. “I daresay the new Wayfarer will be even faster than the old one.”

  Peck gazed out as several monkeys raised one of the smaller sails. “And they look so much cooler. I love that bright green color!”

  “Are you sure the crew can get along without you?” Sir Gilbert asked Graham, who nodded fervently.

  “Absolutely. Eugenie is exceptionally clever—she can handle any problems that might arise.”

  The three Alphas headed into the dense jungle, this time heading east, as they’d already explored the west. “What materials and tools are you still in need of?” Sir Gilbert asked, strolling alongside Graham while Peck hopped ahead, nose buried in the map.

  “Nuts, bolts, and washers. And propellers,” Graham answered promptly. “Two of them. That’s going to be the hardest thing to find, I think.”

  Sir Gilbert frowned thoughtfully. “If the boat catches wind in its sails to move, why do we need propellers?”

  “An excellent question!” Graham replied. “The propellers allow the captain more control over the ship. Sometimes the wind isn’t blowing hard enough, or it’s not blowing in the direction you want to go. That’s when the propellers come in handy.” He shook his head. “I should’ve thought to add them when I first designed the ship. Perhaps we might have avoided crashing.”

  “This way!” Peck called suddenly, making a sharp left off the path. Sir Gilbert and Graham followed her, brushing vines and low-hanging branches out of the way. The air was thick and sweet from the fragrant pink and yellow flowers blooming on the trees. After a few minutes, the canopy of leaves overhead grew so thick, it completely blocked the sun. The temperature dropped, and the three Alphas trekked through the dark, cool jungle in silence.

  Sir Gilbert watched Peck hurry down the path, checking the map every few seconds. “Peck,” he called mildly. “Perhaps we should move a bit slower and take the time to observe our surroundings? After all, we don’t know where we might find the materials Graham needs.”

  “Not yet!” Peck replied, quickening her pace. “We’re almost there . . .”

  “Almost where?” Graham wondered, and Sir Gilbert sighed.

  “I suspect Peck is searching for something aside from shipbuilding materials . . .”

  The bunny Alpha darted ahead, and her companions lost sight of her. Just as Sir Gilbert was beginning to get concerned, they heard her cry:

  “Here! I think I found it!”

  Sir Gilbert and Graham followed the sound of her voice, stepping into a small clearing. Peck was in the center, where a patch of dirt stood out inside the grass.

  “This is the X, I presume?” Sir Gilbert asked, his voice a mix of amusement and exasperation. Peck nodded vigorously, double-checking the map.

  “Yes—I’m totally positive this is it!” she said. “Help me dig?”

  “Peck,” Sir Gilbert said slowly. “We really need supplies. Not treasure.”

  “But supplies might be just what we find!” Graham announced before Peck could respond. The two Alphas turned to see him holding up a dirt-encrusted spade. “Found this lying over here in the grass. Apparently, someone has buried something!”

  “I knew it!” Peck squealed.

  “That means someone has been here,” Sir Gilbert said. “But who?”

  “Only one way to find out!” Graham exclaimed.

  They set to work digging, Graham with the spade, Peck and Sir Gilbert with their paws. Peck was wriggling with excitement as she worked.

  “What do you think they buried?”

  “Hopefully more tools,” Graham replied, tossing a pile of dirt over his shoulder. The next time his spade hit the ground, there was a loud THUNK. “Aha!” he cried, unearthing the top of a black-and-gold chest.

  Peck gasped. “Oh my gosh. We found the buried treasure! Oh, I can’t wait to tell Liza!”

  But Sir Gilbert wasn’t looking at the chest. A smooth, perfectly round stone sticking out of the dirt caught his eye. Unlike the other rocks and pebbles, it was a light purplish blue. He plucked it out and his eyes widened.

  “Look at this,” Sir Gilbert murmured, showing the others. The perfect imprint of a feather covered one side of the stone, long and graceful—and very familiar. “It looks like . . .”

  “A heron feather,” Graham finished. He set his spade down and scratched his head. “Do you think Mira left this treasure for us to find?”

  Peck clutched the map to her chest, her eyes bright. “I bet we’ll know when we see it!”

  Eagerly, she reached out and unlatched the clasp on the chest. The lid popped open, and the three Alphas leaned forward.

  The chest was filled with grimy gold coins and jewels that were probably colorful beneath their thick coating of dust. For a moment, no one spoke.

  “That’s it?” Peck said finally, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “The treasure is just . . . well, treasure?”

  Sir Gilbert chuckled. “So it would seem.”

  “But Mira wouldn’t lead us to gold and jewels.” Peck began digging through the chest’s contents. “Maybe there’s something else in here . . .”

  Graham picked up a coin
and squinted at it through his goggles. “Fascinating. This one has a hole in the center.”

  “Lots of them do,” Peck agreed, holding up a handful. “And the ones with no holes have an engraving instead.”

  “A heron feather?” Sir Gilbert asked, but Peck shook her head.

  “An eye.”

  An uneasy feeling settled over Sir Gilbert as he inspected a coin. The engraving of a slightly narrowed eye glared up at him beneath all the grime.

  “Ah!” Graham cried suddenly. “Bolts!”

  “What?” Peck asked.

  “Some of these jewels are perfectly shaped to make nuts and bolts. And these coins with the holes would make perfect washers to hold them in place!” Graham plucked a coin with a hole from the chest. “See?” He slid the coin over a glittering sapphire and beamed at Peck. “Looks like this treasure is more valuable than we thought. It just might help us rebuild the Wayfarer!”

  Peck brightened considerably at this. “Well, in that case, let’s get it back to the ship!” She tugged hard at the chest, but the bottom half was still buried, and it wouldn’t budge.

  “Leave it to me!” Graham picked up his spade and slid it down the back of the chest, deep into the dirt. With a grunt, he pulled down on the top of the spade, and the chest slowly began to tilt. “Almost got it . . .”

  Sir Gilbert noticed something slither beneath the dirt like a worm. Or rather, several worms, he thought. In fact, it looked as though the entire ground was moving just underneath the surface.

  The trees to their left and right both rustled loudly, and before anyone had time to react . . .

  “Yikes!”

  Graham and the chest soared high into the air, lifted by the palm fronds that had been hidden in the dirt. Two long poles extended from either end of the fronds, connecting the trap to something hidden in the trees. Sir Gilbert gasped in surprise.

  “Graham!” Peck cried, staring up at the monkey Alpha. He’d grabbed on to a high tree branch, the chest hanging from his other paw. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine and dandy!” Graham replied. “It seems whoever buried this treasure also set a trap—a catapult made of bamboo and palm fronds! Unfortunately for them, the trap backfired.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Sir Gilbert.

  “Because those materials are just what we need for the propellers!” Graham sounded delighted. “If we can get that contraption to the Wayfarer, that will be everything I need to rebuild!”

  Sir Gilbert smiled. “Outstanding!”

  Graham tossed the chest to Sir Gilbert before scrambling down the tree. “Great news, isn’t it, Peck?” he asked, clapping her on the shoulder. Peck smiled and nodded, watching her fellow Alphas pull the catapult out from the trees. She pictured the chest filled with grimy coins and shivered despite the heat.

  “Peck?” Sir Gilbert said, coming over to stand next to her. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s my fault Graham walked into that trap,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have brought us here. You were right, I was too focused on finding the X on the map, and look what happened!”

  “But Graham is perfectly safe now,” Sir Gilbert reassured her. “And if you hadn’t led us here, we wouldn’t have found what we needed to rebuild the Wayfarer!”

  “That’s true,” Peck admitted. The two Alphas glanced back at the chest filled with treasure.

  Peck knew Sir Gilbert was wondering the same thing she was: Mira would have never left a trap for them like this one. But someone else had.

  The question was, who?

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Hello, sun! I missed you!”

  Cosmo was the first to leave the caves, and he danced a little jig that made Wylie and Liza laugh. Greely followed the others, surveying their new surroundings. The cave behind them cut through a cliff that rose high above their heads. The rocky land that stretched out before them sloped downward. Greely couldn’t see what lay beyond, but the smell of salt in the air told him they weren’t far from the shore.

  “I believe we may have reached the eastern coast of the island,” he said. “Or at least, we’re very close. If the others made it to the northern beach in their lifeboats, we should be able to reach them soon.”

  Liza climbed a few nearby rocks, testing their sturdiness with her staff. “Finding a safe path might pose a challenge. Some of these rocks are loose.”

  Turning, Greely stared up at the cliff. His eyes quickly scanned the crevices and narrow ledges and saw a trail to the top of the cliff—a very steep, dangerous trail, but one that would give him an ideal vantage point.

  “I’ll climb the cliff,” he told the others. “From that height, I will be able to identify a safe path leading to the northern tip.”

  Cosmo craned his neck to squint at the cliff. “From that height, you just might spot the Wayfarer!” he said cheerfully.

  “Be careful, Greely,” Liza said. “That’s a steep climb.”

  Greely didn’t respond—he just leaped nimbly to the first ledge. His instincts kicked in, and his paws quickly found the most stable ridges. The sound of the others’ voices was soon lost to the wind, and Greely welcomed the silence.

  It wasn’t long before he stood at the edge of the cliff, gazing out at the island. The sea sparkled to his left, and the beach appeared to be covered in pebbles. To his right, the jungle trees were so thick Greely couldn’t see the ground, although he did spot a small tar pit nestled among the trees. The terrain between the cliff and the beach was a maze of rocks, but Greely spotted a path almost immediately. Unfortunately, it led south. A shame, he thought, because it was almost a straight line, as if someone—or something—had carved their way through.

  Just as Greely thought this, an odd smell reached his nostrils; a rotten, sickly sweet smell. Crouching low, he prowled along the edge of the cliff until he spotted a fork in the path. One branch led to the beach, where the water had a strange green tinge to it. The color gradually grew darker and darker, leading out to the source: a ship.

  But it wasn’t the Wayfarer.

  Greely cataloged every detail as quickly as possible. The ship was black and purple, with dirty patched-up sails and a seemingly perpetual cloud of smog surrounding it. The green sludge in the water clearly came from the ship; even from this distance, Greely could see barrels of the nasty stuff on the deck, all emitting the same unnaturally green glow. His gaze moved to the figurehead on the bow, which at first glance appeared to be a black fish . . . until Greely spotted the single glaring eye on its head.

  The ship was moving slowly up the coast, spreading sludge through the water. As it turned slightly, Greely caught sight of a black flag bearing its name: Befouler.

  Memories of the storm flashed through Greely’s mind: the gray smog swirled with purple, that same green hue to the water. The storm had hit so quickly, and now Greely knew why: It had not been a natural storm.

  It was caused by Phantoms.

  Greely continued along the edge of the cliff, and a bay came into view. One look at the strange ramshackle structures covering the bay, and Greely knew this was where the Befouler was headed.

  Without wasting another second, Greely made his way down the cliff at top speed, leaping from ledge to ledge with extraordinary precision. When he reached the bottom, Liza took one look at his expression and immediately grew somber.

  “What’s wrong, Greely?”

  The wolf Alpha filled the others in quickly. “I believe they created the storm that caused us to shipwreck here.”

  “That might explain the cave-in, too,” Cosmo said, shaking his head. “Destruction is what the Phantoms do best.”

  “Not just Phantoms,” Wylie whispered with a shiver. “Pirate Phantoms.”

  Liza nodded grimly. “Pirate Phantoms who just might know we’re here.”

  Wylie swallowed. “The other Alphas, and the crew . . . Yo
u don’t think the Phantoms got them, do you?”

  “There was no sign of any animal on that ship,” Greely said immediately. “However . . .”

  “The Befouler is sure to reach the northern beach, and the others, before we do,” Liza finished. She looked from Greely to Cosmo, and knew they were thinking the same thing.

  “What?” Wylie looked at each of them in turn. “What’s going on?”

  Cosmo smiled grimly. “It looks like we need to change our plans.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Just off the northern shore of the island, several animals crowded behind the overturned Wayfarer. Each one was holding on to one of the thick vines tied to the mast and the deck’s railing, waiting excitedly for Graham’s command.

  “On three!” the monkey Alpha called through a conch shell he was using as a megaphone. “One . . . two . . . three! Heave!”

  With grunts and shouts, the crew pulled as hard as they could. Slowly, the Wayfarer began to tilt toward them, until finally it landed in the water with a splash.

  “Well done!” Graham cried, beaming at the sight of the lily pad sails blowing in the wind, and the crew cheered. “Now we can get to work installing the propellers and repairing the hole in the hull. Everyone, please see Eugenie for your assignments!”

  The crew huddled around Eugenie, who began dividing them into groups: one to clean the mounds of grimy jewels and coins from the treasure chest; the second to separate them into piles of makeshift nuts, bolts, and washers; and a third to drag the two giant propellers onto the ship. As the animals got to work, Graham spotted Sir Gilbert and Peck on a large dune just up the beach. Sir Gilbert was peering through a spyglass, while Peck was, as usual, studying the map. She had been a bit despondent ever since the incident with the treasure chest and the trap, and Graham decided to go cheer her up.

  “Good news, my friends!” he called as he hiked up the steep dune. “Now that the Wayfarer is right side up again, the rest of the repairs should go quickly!”