by Petra James
‘Starts with A and sort of rhymes with kilogram,’ said Arkie.
TJ looked blank. ‘You know I don’t like rhymes,’ she said.
‘Anagram,’ said Arkie.
TJ shook her head. ‘I know what an anagram is but exactly what is an anagram?’
‘STAB SIENA,’ said Arkie. ‘It’s an anagram of SEBASTIAN.’
Anagram Scamagram
‘OMG! You’re right,’ said TJ, grabbing Arkie’s notebook and looking from one word to the other. ‘Brilliant deduction, Arkie.’ She took a bite of some toast and looked thoughtful. ‘You know, I think some of my genius might be charging into you – like an electric current. Scientific studies have shown that spending time with people more intellectually empowered does have a beneficial effect on less intelligent individuals.’
‘Thanks, I think,’ said Arkie, sipping her drink. ‘But I should have seen it ages ago. I know how much Dad loves anagrams. Whenever he meets someone he’s always thinking about what anagrams he can make from his or her name. And he’s always coming up with new anagrams for us. He called Mum “Ham Rat” for a while because that’s an anagram of Martha, but Mum hates rats so she said we couldn’t call her that.’
‘What did he call you?’ said TJ.
‘“Asleep Ark Irk”,’ said Arkie. ‘That’s an anagram of Arkie Sparkle.’
‘Sleep,’ said TJ, yawning. ‘Yes, I remember that.’
‘He had some good anagrams for Theodora too,’ said Arkie.
TJ scowled. ‘You know you’re not supposed to call me that. Especially at . . .’ she looked at her watch, ‘twenty past two in the morning.’ She paused. ‘Like what?’
‘“Dear Hoot”,’ said Arkie. ‘We had a good laugh at that one.’
‘Yeah, hilarious,’ said TJ. ‘If you want to be a crazy old owl. What else?’
‘What about “Toad Hero”?’ said Arkie. ‘That’s got a noble ring to it.’
‘If you’re a frog,’ said TJ.
‘You’re such a grump in the early hours of the morning, TJ,’ said Arkie. ‘But we’re finally making progress. Edie’s postcard said “Be Where Stab Siena” so Edie was warning Dad and Dad was warning us about the very same person: Sebastian Sparkle.’
‘They’re warning us about someone we didn’t even know existed till yesterday,’ said TJ.
‘Exactly,’ said Arkie. ‘And I reckon the reason we didn’t know he existed is somehow the reason all this is happening.’
‘Sounds reasonable,’ said TJ. ‘You said something dramatic happened before you were born and that’s why Uncle Ted doesn’t talk about his family.’
‘Yes, but there’s no one around to tell us what it was,’ said Arkie. ‘I bet Quincy could fill in the gaps but he was the first member of THinc to disappear. Edie must know about it too because Sebastian’s her brother as well, but where is she?’
TJ looked at her watch again. ‘It’s nearly half past two,’ she said tiredly. ‘Can we go back to sleep for a few hours? Please? My brain cells are bumping into each other and there’s no sense in that.’
‘Okay,’ said Arkie. ‘But I’m setting the alarm for 6 o’clock. We’ve got to find out all we can about my long-lost uncle: Sebastian Sparkle.’
8.30 am 8.30 am 8.30 am 8.30 am 8.30 am
Six hours later, Arkie and TJ were lying on the floor of the THinc Tank, surrounded by paper and files.
They had spent the last two hours sifting through all the documents in the filing cabinet, looking for some reference to Sebastian Sparkle.
‘TJ?’ said Arkie, looking up from a stack of the THinc field notebooks. They were filled with her dad’s scratchy handwriting, as though a flock of sparrows had stepped in ink and wandered through them.
‘Hmmm?’ said TJ, scanning BLUR’s log reports from the last five years with her Super Enhanced Goggles to see if there was any invisible writing.
‘Why do you think we haven’t got the clue to the fourth treasure yet?’ said Arkie. ‘The next clue is usually delivered as soon as we’ve found the treasure but we found the seeds in the Doomsday Vault yesterday.’
‘I bet they’re trying to keep us guessing,’ said TJ. ‘Just when we think we know what’s going to happen next, it doesn’t. That’s what I’d do if I were a devious kidnapper.’
‘Or maybe it’s because something’s wrong?’ said Arkie, standing up. ‘Maybe Mum got in big trouble for ringing me and they’ve . . . they’ve . . .’
‘They won’t have hurt your mum and dad,’ said TJ. ‘They want something from you. And we’re only halfway through the treasure hunt. We’ve got four more treasures to find. They need to keep Aunt Martha and Uncle Ted tip-top till the end.’
The end. The words clattered through Arkie’s head. Just a three-letter word. But it could mean so many different things. And most of them weren’t good.
‘Unless . . .’ said Arkie, standing up and walking over to the mahogany desk.
‘Unless what?’ said TJ.
‘Unless they’ve delivered it already,’ said Arkie, staring at the desk. ‘Is that your spyglass, TJ?’
TJ got up and joined her. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Isn’t it yours?’
They stared at the antique spyglass, sitting on top of the maps on the desk as though it had always been sitting on top of the maps on the desk.
‘No, it’s not,’ said Arkie. ‘And it wasn’t there last night. I’ve never seen it before.’
TJ switched her SEGs to FI for fingerprint imaging. She scanned the whole of the spyglass carefully. ‘Nothing,’ she said, removing her SEGs. ‘Whoever left it must have worn gloves. Or wiped it clean.’
‘You mean whoever crept through the house while we were asleep,’ said Arkie, with a grim face. ‘Some time between half past two and six o’clock this morning.’
‘A window of three and a half hours,’ said TJ. ‘Does that mean they’re near by?’
‘Depends how they’re travelling I guess,’ said Arkie. ‘We could be halfway around the world in BLUR in three and a half hours.’
‘But BLUR’s BLUR,’ said TJ. ‘There couldn’t be another BLUR.’ She paused. ‘Could there?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Arkie. ‘But someone has managed to hack into HAL’s security codes, break into BLUR, possibly plant a non-detectable bugless bug in the THinc Tank and now leave a clue right under our sleeping noses! We shouldn’t be surprised by anything they do.’
She picked up the spyglass and looked through it.
‘It’s like one of those old viewfinders,’ she said. ‘There’s a 3-D image at the end – a picture of a ship, and some writing. Probably a poem, like all the other clues.’
‘Can you read what it says?’ said TJ.
‘No, wait,’ said Arkie focusing the spyglass. ‘It’s not a poem. It’s an invitation. An invitation to . . . a party.’
‘A party?’ said TJ. ‘Well, it can’t be from the kidnappers then. They don’t sound like party people. Is it from Sophie Hampton? She said she was going to have a princesses and ponies party with pony rides and everything. I’ve got my casual equestrian outfit already just in case she invites me.’
‘No, it’s not from Sophie Hampton,’ said Arkie, lowering the spyglass and turning to TJ. ‘It’s an invitation to a pirate party.’
Ahoy!
‘A pirate party?’ said TJ. ‘Who’s inviting us to a pirate party?’
‘A pirate,’ said Arkie.
‘But we don’t know any pirates, do we?’ said TJ.
‘No, but I think we’re about to meet a whole heap of them,’ said Arkie.
‘The collective noun for a bunch of pirates is usually “a band”,’ said TJ, ‘but I’ve never thought that sounded daring enough for villainous cut-throats. I think a “plunder-rumba of pirates” sounds much better. I’m going to submit it to the Collective Noun Association for consideration.’
‘Good idea but we need to focus, TJ,’ said Arkie. ‘Try to think in a straight line. You like straight lines, remember?’
‘I do,’ said TJ. ‘We were talking about our unexpected invitation to a pirate party. Can I see it, please?’
Arkie handed TJ the spyglass and she began to read:
‘The pirate party of the century,’ said TJ, lowering the spyglass. ‘With a pirate called Blackbeard?’
Arkie was already researching Blackbeard on DATAMAX, the tablet linked to all the museums of the world.
DATAMAX glowed BLUE as it searched and then RED for found. Its electronic voice began to speak:
≥≥ Englishman Edward Teach, also
known as Blackbeard, was one of the
most notorious pirates of the 18th
century. Between 1716 and 1718,
ships and crews along the Atlantic
and Caribbean feared the sight of
his pirate flag on his ship the
Queen Anne’s Revenge and its 40
menacing canons. He came to a sticky
end after running his ship aground
22 November 1718. ≤≤
‘Thanks, DATAMAX,’ said Arkie. ‘His sticky end came only two days after the party.’
‘We must be after pirate treasure then,’ said TJ. ‘Gold coins, silver doublets, precious gems. Pirates were a looting lot.’
‘DATAMAX says that Blackbeard was supposed to have amassed a huge fortune but it wasn’t found anywhere on the ship when it ran aground.’
‘Maybe he buried it somewhere,’ said TJ.
‘According to DATAMAX, Blackbeard said he buried it in a place where no one but the Devil and himself would find it,’ said Arkie.
‘Great,’ said TJ. ‘That doesn’t tell us much.’
‘What about the party bags?’ said Arkie. ‘They might have some more clues. If we can find them.’
‘0.00001 degrees S, 0.000014 degrees E,’ said TJ. ‘Those coordinates are latitude and longitude.’ She keyed them into Codemode and soon it began to pulse loudly.
‘That’s weird,’ said TJ, lifting up one foot and then the other. ‘According to Codemode we’re standing on them.’
Arkie bent down and looked under the desk.
Two party bags with red bows were leaning against the leg of the table.
‘Right under our feet, of course,’ said Arkie, crawling under the desk to retrieve them.
‘I love party bags,’ said TJ. ‘I hope they’ve got some good stuff in them.’
They turned the bags upside down and laid everything out on the desk.
‘Looks like we’ve got the same,’ said TJ, looking at Arkie’s bag. ‘Let’s do an inventory.’
‘One gold earring,’ said Arkie.
‘Check,’ said TJ.
‘One cutlass,’ said Arkie.
‘Check,’ said TJ. ‘And a mouldy old cracker,’ she added, breaking it in half. ‘If this is the kind of party food we’ll be getting, we’d better nosh up before we go.’
‘What’s this?’ said Arkie, pulling out a blank piece of parchment. ‘This will be helpful for . . .’
TJ pulled out a bottle of VisiInk from her bag. ‘A blank piece of paper always screams invisible ink,’ she said.
She poured the liquid made from the seed pod oil of the Kapok tree over the paper and watched. Two words soon formed on the paper:
TREASURE MAP
but the rest of the paper remained blank.
‘That’s weird,’ she said, turning the paper over. ‘It’s a treasure map with nothing on it.’
Arkie was unrolling another piece of parchment from the party bag.
‘Another blank piece of paper?’ said TJ.
‘No,’ said Arkie, ‘I think it’s some kind of weather report. Although I’ve never seen one like this before.’
‘A weather report?’ said TJ. ‘Funny thing to put in a party bag. I’ve already got an app for the weather on my phone. My hair is very sensitive to barometric changes so I like to know what to expect.’
Arkie read out the weather report:
‘I’ve seen something like this before,’ said Arkie. ‘At the Treasure Hunters’ Summer School. There’s a clue hidden in the message. It’s a special kind of code called “steganography”.’
‘Ah, yes,’ said TJ. ‘The old “security through obscurity” approach. But how do we unlock the message?’
‘We just take the first letter of each word,’ said Arkie, ‘and see what they spell out.’
B L A
C K
P R I
N C E
R U B
Y
‘That makes no sense’ said TJ.
‘It does if we run some of the letters together,’ said Arkie, writing on a piece of paper. ‘Look.’
B L A C K
P R I N C E
R U B Y
‘It’s the Black Prince’s ruby,’ said Arkie, looking up at TJ.
‘Really?’ said TJ. ‘What’s the Black Prince’s ruby?’
‘One of the most famous rubies in the world,’ said Arkie. ‘It belonged to Abu Said, the Moorish prince of Granada, but it ended up with Edward of Woodstock, the Black Prince. It’s as big as a chicken’s egg. Dad used to tell me the story of the Black Prince’s ruby when I was little. It’s now part of the Crown Jewels in the Tower of London.’
‘The Tower of London,’ said TJ. ‘Isn’t that where people went to get their heads chopped off?’
‘In the old days,’ said Arkie. ‘I don’t think it happens so much anymore. Look. Here’s a picture of the ruby on DATAMAX.’
‘And the missing words in the sentence?’ said TJ.
‘I reckon it’s: Find the Black Prince’s Ruby and complete the — — ’
‘Treasure map,’ said TJ.
‘Exactly,’ said Arkie.
‘Well, that sounds straightforward,’ said TJ. ‘So that’s why we’re going to the party. To find the ruby. What do we wear to a pirate party?’
‘The usual, I guess,’ said Arkie. ‘Swords and cutlasses, parrots on the shoulder, arms with hooks, wooden legs, swashbuckling boots, flouncy hats with long feathers at jaunty angles, and frilly shirts.’
‘OK,’ said TJ. ‘I just need an hour to rummage in my sister’s wardrobe. Isabella was in The Pirates of Penzance a few years ago – before she became a Goth. She won’t miss a frilly shirt, or two. And I have to take Cleopatra home, anyway. Mum’s taking her to the vet for her shots.’
Cleo pricked up her ears when she heard her name. Then she put her paws over her eyes.
‘I can still see you, Cleo,’ said TJ, lifting her off the leather couch. ‘Don’t be such a scaredy dog.’
TJ and Cleo clanked up the spiral staircase.
party party party party party party
As BLUR sped across the world, Arkie adjusted the buckle on her pirate pants and blew the feather on her hat out of her face.
The parrot perched on her shoulder was trying to nip her ear.
‘OUCH. Stop it,’ she said, pushing it back. ‘Did you have to bring a real parrot, TJ?’
‘You said that’s what pirates had,’ said TJ. ‘And we have to look like real parrots – I mean pirates. And I was very lucky to borrow it. It was the last one in the pet shop. It’s not just an ordinary old parrot, you know. It’s a proper pirate’s parrot – a macaw.’
Arkie and the parrot eyed each other.
‘What’s it called again?’ said Arkie.
‘Micawber Macaw,’ said TJ. ‘But we can call it Mawby for short. The pet shop owner said it’s a real star at pirate parties.’
‘Why? What does it do?’ said Arkie.
‘She didn’t say but I guess we’ll find out,’ said TJ.
‘We can timeslip once we reach North Carolina,’ said Arkie. ‘Because we’re going back more than 250 years, it’s safer to travel to the actual destination first. Less chance of arriving in pieces.’
‘PIECES OF EIGHT. DON’T BE LATE,’ squawked Mawby.
‘Great,’ said Arkie. ‘A parrot poet.’
As BLUR emerged through the clouds, the sun began t
o rise above the horizon. They could see the long line of the North Carolina coast below them.
‘Ocracoke Island ahead,’ said Arkie.
TJ was already setting the travel parameters into TimeSlip.
They climbed into TimeSlip and Arkie turned the shower nozzle from PRESENT to PAST.
‘I don’t think this will be like any party we’ve ever been too,’ she said as TimeSlip heated up around them and swallowed them in steam.
Mad, Bad Pirates
Ocracoke Island was ablaze with bonfires.
Sparks from the flames fizzed and spiralled into the night sky and the burning wood crackled and hissed.
Arkie landed in the sand with a thud and then a shout as TJ landed on top of her.
‘Thanks for breaking my fall, Arkie,’ said TJ, rolling over and standing up. ‘Very considerate.’
Arkie grunted and rubbed her shoulder where TJ had kicked it.
Micawber Macaw shook the sand off his wings and settled back on Arkie’s shoulder.
They had arrived in a huddle of tall trees, about 100 metres from the beach and opposite the harbour.
‘I think we’ve landed in a cemetery,’ said TJ, looking around. About a dozen stone tablets were laid in rows beneath the trees.
‘Captain Scrubby Yellowbeard,’ said TJ, reading one of them.
‘It must be a pirates’ cemetery,’ she said. ‘I thought pirates were buried at sea?’
‘They were,’ said Arkie, ‘but maybe their friends put these stones here to remember them.’
‘Pirates are so thoughtful,’ said TJ.
At least fifteen ships were moored in Ocracoke Inlet. Some of the decks were lit with lanterns and the reflections of the lights quivered on the surface of the sleek black sea.
There were as many as 100 pirates already partying on the beach.
Huge hogs were turning on barbeque spits and the smell of the roasting meat sank greasily into the night air.
Some of the pirates were fighting each other with swords while others circled around them, egging on their favourites and throwing coins in the sand to bet on a winner.