But her brothers didn’t know about the hand. She should probably tell William … but she doubted he’d believe her.
Who would?
Back on deck, the Blackwells surveyed the sailboat. Peregrine was a mess. Her foresail was torn, and there was a ragged halyard hanging from the mast. Lines and sheets were strewn across the deck. The line that held the sea anchor was torn.
“We lost our sea anchor,” William said wearily.
“Our ensign is gone, too,” Emma added. William and Jonah both looked up. She was right. Their bright red flag was missing from the top of the mast.
“It’s never a good sign when a ship loses its ensign,” Jonah said.
“Stop it, Jonah,” William snapped. “No more talk of signs. The flag just blew away in the storm. We aren’t sinking, we’re all safe. Let’s clean up Peregrine, then just try to get home.”
“Where are we, anyway?” Jonah asked.
“I have no idea, and it’s impossible to tell in the fog.” William didn’t want to say it, but they could be anywhere. He didn’t know how long they’d slept, or where the storm had taken them.
They could be near land. Or they could be drifting out to sea.…
“Jonah, can you keep track of the compass? Mark the time and the compass heading in the ship log every five minutes. We can see if we’re drifting if we keep checking,” William said. He rubbed his eyes. He was suddenly very tired, despite the sleep.
Is this how Dad feels after a storm, when he’s captain? he wondered. He suddenly heard his father’s voice: A captain takes care of his crew first, William, then his ship.
“Okay, Emma, Jonah, listen. It’s been a strange trip. There’s that weird burning ship, which we’re not going to mention, then the storm, seaweed in our mouths, Emma’s shell, now this fog. But we’re okay. We’re here. Dad will be looking for us. And I promise I’ll get us home. But you both have to help.”
“How are we going to get home? We’re lost. We have no motor, no radio, no sails, no cellphone. We aren’t going anywhere.” Jonah peered into the thick cloud.
“The fog will lift eventually, and the wind will pick up again,” William answered. “We’ll paddle if we have to. Right now, let’s eat and clean up Peregrine. And Emma, get the foghorn going.”
Emma groaned.
“Can’t Jonah do it?” she asked. Some ships have air horns as foghorns, but their father believed in good old-fashioned breath. Their foghorn was heavy and made of brass. It was pretty to look at, maybe, but not very practical. She’d have to blow hard to make any noise at all. It was exhausting.
“Yes, you have to do it. Jonah is taking compass readings. You can switch in a while,” William answered.
So, the Blackwells did what any crew does after a storm. They put aside whatever weird things had happened (because weird things do happen at sea during storms), and they took care of themselves and their ship.
William handed out apples, water, and crackers with cheese. They ate in silence. Then William tidied up lines, sheets, and the torn sail. Jonah took compass readings. And every three minutes, Emma took a huge breath and blew three blasts into the hated foghorn.
BUUUUUU! BUUUUUU! BUUUUUU!
If any other boats were out there, they’d know that Peregrine was near.
They drifted in the fog for a long while. The only sound was the foghorn or the occasional slap of water against the boat. In all that dull silence, it was hard not to fall back to sleep.
Then, just as Emma was about to blow into the foghorn again …
“QUIET, EMMA! Listen!” William held his hand up to his ear.
CLANG. CLANG.
Suddenly a deep, low bell clanged! They all jumped to their feet.
“That’s a buoy! A harbour marker!” William shouted.
“Yeah, but which one?” Jonah answered.
The bell clanged again as the sea gently rolled past it somewhere out in the fog. It was eerie hearing a low bell from an enormous harbour marker nearby. Not being able to see it made it doubly creepy. It could loom up at them at any second.
Anything could.
“It means we’re near land!” William said.
He ran to the bow to listen. He concentrated and stared hard into the fog.
CLANG. CLANG. The bell was closer!
“It’s coming from over there.” Emma pointed.
CLANG. CLANG.
All three Blackwells leaned toward the sound … suddenly the boat lurched.
CLUNK!
The boat lurched again, then it came to a full stop with a shudder. A loose plate rolled onto the cabin floor and broke. Everyone fell forward.
The Blackwells all peered hard into the fog.
“Is that … is that a tree?” Jonah whispered. A tree, then another tree and another, loomed out of the fog. It was eerie. What were trees doing off their bow?
“I think … I think we just ran aground,” William said. But he was far less confident than he sounded.
What he didn’t say?
But where are we? And what now?
CHAPTER SIX
THE DISTANT DRUMS
Peregrine was stuck.
“What did we hit?” Jonah ran to join his brother at the bow.
William lay flat on the deck and looked down at the water.
“It’s sand! We hit a beach.”
“Better than rocks,” Jonah said.
William nodded. “Yes, little brother, definitely better than rocks. Hand me the boat hook and grab some paddles.”
Jonah scurried down the ladder and came back up holding the long, curved boat hook and two paddles. He handed the boat hook to William, and a paddle to Emma.
William stabbed the boat hook down into the dark water. “It’s not very deep, but Peregrine is really stuck. We’re aground here until we get some wind again.”
“But where are we?” Emma asked.
“We should take a vote,” Jonah said. “Stay with the ship or go ashore and see where we are.”
William shook his head. “No. We aren’t staying with the boat. We might be on one of the islands near home. Or we might have crossed the bay in that storm and be near Dad. We could be anywhere. We have to go ashore and try to find out where we are.” William slipped over the side into water up to his knees.
“It’s not deep, and it’s sandy,” he said, heading to the beach. “Bring your paddles.”
“Wait!” Emma ran into the cabin and grabbed her backpack with her inky mermaid. She wanted her mermaid with her, plus her shell. Somehow her shell came back to her, or a shell did, anyway, and it now seemed more precious than ever. She ran up the ladder, and as an afterthought, she grabbed the foghorn.
She slipped over the side of Peregrine into the shallow water. She ran to catch up with her brothers.
The three Blackwells walked on the shore. The beach was narrow between trees and water. William carried the boat hook and led the way along the foggy beach, Jonah behind him. Emma came up the rear with her paddle in one hand, the foghorn in the other. It took a few moments to get used to solid land again, even if it was sand. It put them all a little off balance.
“Um, William,” Emma asked after a few steps.
“Yeah?”
“Do those trees look normal to you?”
William stopped. “What do you mean …?” But the words died on his lips. Emma was right. There was something a little wrong about the trees.
“Why are they palm trees?” Jonah added. William hadn’t noticed. He was so happy to find land, he hadn’t actually looked at it.
William considered the trees. “Yes, I agree that’s a little odd. Why would there be palm trees?” He sounded calm. Too calm. There WAS no explanation for the jungle of palm trees crowding the beach. There was a whole continent, not to mention an ocean, between their home and the nearest palm trees. He blinked. He swallowed. He tried to clear his mind.
“Let’s not think too much about the trees, please.” Emma and Jonah looked at their older bro
ther, but they were both too brave, or possibly too worried, to ask any more questions about why there would be palm trees.
“How will we find the ship again?” Jonah asked. They had only taken a few steps, and Peregrine was already almost hidden in the fog behind them.
“We’ll mark a trail as we go,” William said. He dragged his foot along the beach and made a large arrow in the sand, pointing back toward Peregrine.
William was acting too calm. And a little grim.
“We’ll see these arrows plus our footprints in the sand. And I’ll blaze a trail on the trees. Come on, let’s go.” Emma had a sinking feeling as she looked behind her and saw Peregrine fade in the fog.
She gripped the paddle and the foghorn a little harder.
When he counted fifty steps, William took his army knife and slashed an arrow on one of the palm trees along the shore. It pointed back toward Peregrine. Or where they all hoped Peregrine waited in the fog.
The island was quiet. The harbour marker had stopped clanging — everything was so still.
And it was weirdly hot. It was summer, but this was different. Almost a tropical heat. They were too hot even in T-shirts. They walked quietly along the beach for a few minutes. Then they reached a wall of boulders. They couldn’t go any farther along the beach.
A sandy pathway led into the trees.
William stopped suddenly and held up a hand for quiet.
BOOM BOOM da-dum!
BOOM BOOM da-dum!
William looked at Emma and Jonah. Jonah’s eyes were huge. Emma clutched the foghorn and the paddle.
The sound came again.
BOOM BOOM da-dum!
BOOM BOOM da-dum!
“What is it?” Emma whispered. William shook his head and put his fingers to his lips, listening hard. It came once more.
BOOM BOOM da-dum!
BOOM BOOM da-dum!
“I’m not sure, but I think it’s … drums. Far away, though.”
“Drums? Why drums?” Emma asked. The place was weirding her out. She didn’t want to look too closely, but she was pretty sure she just saw a parrot flitting in the palm trees.
That can’t be a parrot. That’s a tropical bird, she said to herself. You’re seeing things.
William dropped his voice to a whisper. “Jonah, run down the pathway into the trees, fifty steps, look around, then come right back.”
Jonah looked a little worried. “Why me?”
“Okay, I’ll go, you stay here with Emma,” William said.
“No! Don’t leave me with Jonah,” Emma begged. William shot his little brother a “see ?” look. Jonah swallowed.
BOOM BOOM da-dum!
BOOM BOOM da-dum!
“Can I have the boat hook?” Jonah asked. William swapped the boat hook for Jonah’s paddle. Emma had never seen her twin looked so scared.
The drums were probably nothing, right? A drumming group practising.
In the middle of nowhere. In the fog.
On a weirdly tropical and lonely beach.
“William, maybe we should stick together?” she said.
But William shook his head. “No, I want two of us to stay on the beach to keep near Peregrine. Besides, Jonah is the fastest runner. Just run into the trees, take a look, then run right back.” Emma was about to argue that they could all run into the trees and back together, but Jonah interrupted her.
“Okay, wish me luck,” he said. Emma could see he didn’t want to do it … but she also knew he didn’t want to seem scared. So she and William stood on the beach and watched Jonah disappear into the dark, strange palm trees.
“You don’t have to go far, just let us know if the pathway keeps going,” William called after him.
Jonah jogged onto the pathway. It was dark as soon as he left the beach. The palm trees blocked the light, what there was of it in the fog, almost right away. He counted as he ran: one, two, three steps. He kept going until he hit twenty-three steps.
What was that?
Something moved in the trees to his right. Something fast.
Jonah stopped. His heart hammered. He gulped and gripped the boat hook with both hands.
Something whipped past him again, just out of sight. He held his breath. He gripped the boat hook tighter. He turned to run back toward the beach …
… but a huge, dark figure stepped onto the pathway.
Jonah’s shriek filled the air.
When William and Emma reached the spot a minute later, the boat hook lay on the ground.
Jonah was gone!
CHAPTER SEVEN
MIGHT THEY BE MERMAIDS?
“Jonah!” Emma shouted into the dark trees.
“SHH!” William clapped his hand over her mouth. He shook his head and put his finger to his lips. If William were alone, he probably wouldn’t have been acting so calm.
But he wasn’t alone. He had his little sister with him. And he was trying hard not to scare her. Or show her how scared he was. Her eyes were huge, and she clutched the paddle and foghorn with white knuckles.
Where was Jonah? Why had he dropped the boat hook?
I shouldn’t have split us up, William thought. Emma was right. Or maybe we should have stayed with the boat until the fog cleared and the wind picked up, like Jonah wanted.
He had to decide what to do.
It’s possible that Jonah just went to … pee? Or maybe he’s hiding and trying to scare us? He’d think it was hilarious.
But what about the shriek?
I really wish Dad was here.
“William, do you hear singing?” Emma whispered.
William strained to listen. The sun peeked through the trees. The fog was lifting.
And yes, there was a song on the breeze.
But a strange one. A weird, shrieking, high-pitched sound, if you could call that singing.
“I hear something, but I can’t imagine what’s singing with a voice like that,” he whispered. And I’m not sure I want to find out.
A bizarre and watery song filled the air. It sounded like water bubbles popping while someone shrieked.
“Let’s go find who’s singing. Maybe they know where Jonah is,” Emma whispered.
William looked down at his little sister. What choice did they have? “Okay, stay close,” he said quietly. He carried a paddle in one hand and the boat hook in the other. Together, the two remaining Blackwells walked quietly along the sandy pathway, deeper into the palm trees. They followed the strange singing.
It got louder.
They weaved through the trees. Shafts of sunlight fell to the sandy pathway; the fog had lifted now. And still they walked on.
The singing got louder.
Suddenly, the trees stopped.
The singing stopped, too.
William and Emma stepped onto a sandy beach that overlooked a shallow lagoon. Rocks broke the surface of the water, which rippled like a living thing. Emma ran down to the water, and William followed. There was something odd about the water, though. It rippled and moved, and suddenly William saw what lay just beneath the surface.
“Wait, Emma!”
With a burbling yell, bodies rose from the water all around them!
Emma froze. An army of terrifying creatures filled the lagoon. Hundreds of scaly, green faces and wet, black eyes stared at her. Long, green seaweed-hair waved, and upturned teeth jutted from wet, bulging lips. The horrifying creatures shook shark jawbones and pointed at Emma with spiny, wicked fingers.
Emma dropped her paddle and screamed. William grabbed her hand and turned to run back across the beach …
… but the army of ferocious mermaids (for what else could they be?) threw their swampy nets.
William fell! A seaweed net covered his head and shoulders. A sea-kelp rope snared his legs, then shark jawbone spears fell along the beach. The kelp rope dragged him — tug by tug — toward the watery horde. Each fishy mouth opened, and horrible shrieking screams filled the air. Emma stared in shock.
“Run, Emma!
Run back to the boat!” William yelled. Emma jumped and tried to pull the net off her brother, but it was no use. The net clung like barnacles (in fact, the merfolk used barnacle juice for that very reason), and the rope held like steel.
The mermaid mob crowded the shallow water, crawling onto the beach, slapping their tails in the unfamiliar air. They dragged William through the sand toward them, netted like a giant land fish.
“RUN, EMMA! RUN!” William screamed, just before the writhing mermaids dragged him into the water and fell upon him.
Emma turned and fled along the pathway, back into the sheltering trees.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ZOMBIE PIRATES FROM THE BRINY DEEP
“Boil his bones! Shiver me timbers!”
“The queen will want to speak with him!”
“You great, lumbering fool!”
Jonah heard angry voices. He couldn’t remember much after something big had grabbed him on the pathway in the trees. Huge, bony hands had covered his eyes with a blindfold, stuck him in a sack, then dumped him here, wherever this was.
His whole body hurt, and he had a terrible headache. Plus he was thirsty.
And cramped. He sat in a box with his arms tied behind his back. He slowly opened his eyes and realized he was sitting in a wooden cage. Light shone through the wooden bars, and he could dimly see two enormous people, or two enormous somethings anyway, moving around.
They were yelling at each other.
“But what if he’s a friend of hers?” said a man’s voice.
“Well, he’s ours now!” said a woman.
“But we should tell her!”
“And why would we want to do that?”
“For the …” the man dropped his voice to a theatrical, loud whisper, “… curse. You havn’t forgotten about that, have you?”
The room rocked gently, and Jonah could hear sails flap in the wind. I’m on a sailboat, he thought. But WHAT sailboat?
“But who is he?”
The man said, “How should I know? He’s probably hers, and she’ll pay handsome to get him back. We should bang the drums again, let her know we got one of hers.”
Blackwells and the Briny Deep Page 3