“Why don’t you think about your position here,” said Owen. “You are outnumbered. There is nowhere to run.”
I lifted the tip of my sword. “Yield, and the crew of the sloop Destiny will show you mercy.”
“So you want war?” he replied. “You won’t live to see it. The Obsidian draws near, Captain L’Ollon approaches. His pirates will raid this island and slaughter everyone on it. They’ll take the Mer’s gold, then let loose their cannon. There will be nothing left. The Mer that fight will be netted and gutted like the stinking fish they are. But first, you will die. Miley, kill him.”
Miley came forward with his pistol aimed at my heart. My rapier was no match for his firearm.
“Drop your weapon and get down on your knees,” ordered Miley. “I said drop it.”
I dropped the rapier. It chimed as it struck the blue crystal mass beneath us. I went down on one knee. Owen chuckled. “End him, Miley. Ahoy!”
Miley pressed the barrel to my head. “You won’t feel a thing, mate.”
“No,” I replied. “But you will.” I pulled the dagger from my boot and plunged it into his chest. My other hand knocked the pistol away. The weapon erupted. Miley groaned in shock as the thin, cold blade entered him. He staggered back and clutched the handle that protruded from his chest, his watery eyes staring in disbelief. He tried to speak, but painful gurgles and desperate draws of breath were all he could manage. His legs trembled and his eyes clouded over. He fell forward, landing on his chest. The dagger shifted deeper into him. I heard him groan for the last time.
I picked up the rapier and moved toward Owen, who had nowhere to go. He stood dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. I had little time to attack. Owen was an experienced warrior, and while I approached he had probably calculated several moves against me. I relied on the swiftness of the rapier and the fact that he had little room to move. The handle of the golden sword rolled in my palm.
I lunged. The tip of the blade streaked forward at blinding speed. There was a terrible clash of steel on steel. Bright yellow sparks flickered. He had parried my attack with equal quickness. I was off balance. He grabbed the collar of my shirt, sidestepped, and jerked me forward. I stumbled and felt my feet slip. The ledge passed below me. I dropped the rapier and saw it spin as it fell into the swirling ocean. I fell over the edge of the massive stone cliff. In desperation, I reached out and clawed for the stone wall. My hand found and gripped the rock face. My body dangled over the edge. I struggled to hold on and fought to pull myself up. The churning sea clashed and roared under me.
Owen moved out of view for a moment, but when he returned, my heart filled with dread. He was holding a boulder of cerulean rock. He lifted it over his head.
“I’ve killed many men in my days,” he called down to me, “but never like this.”
He let the boulder fall. I closed my eyes and tried to move out of its path. It was no use. A tremendous explosion bloomed behind my eyes and blackness filled my mind. The last thing I felt was the rock wall slip out of my grasp.
Chapter 45
Cerulean War
When I opened my eyes, everything was blue. Waving columns of gold sunlight illuminated the strange world. I was underwater. I looked toward the surface; it seemed so far away. I kicked and clawed to lift myself upward, but the swirling ocean pulled me deeper. The pressure within my lungs was unbearable. The harder I tried to swim, the more fatigued I became. I am going to drown, I thought.
I watched the sky grow dim as the surface rose. I reached for it desperately. So far away…I closed my eyes. I had lost the strength to move.
I looked up at the distant sky one last time. It was as blue as everything else around me, but for a brief moment a shimmering banner of purple passed over it. In my delirium, I opened my mouth as if to say goodbye to the world. When I did, I felt a warm softness close over my lips. A gentle stream of air blew into my mouth. My lungs drew in the dry current. Another steady flow came. I was breathing!
The dreamlike cloudiness faded from my mind. My vision sharpened. I saw Cora’s beautiful face pressed against mine, our lips sealed as one. She held me firmly, and her rainbow hair flowed all around us. I held on to her. She kept her lips tightly against mine and continued to breathe into me. I drew in and exhaled through my nose. Bubbles danced up and away. She curled her lower half around me. Her elegant purple fin was like a great sheet of lavender silk wrapped around us. My body began to warm. The soft fin tightened and sealed out the water.
She gave me one last deep breath; it was all she had left within her. She pulled her lips away and looked to the surface, as if asking if I was ready to return. I nodded, though something in my heart wanted to stay down there forever with her.
Her magnificent fin loosened. The cold of the sea enveloped me. Her grip tightened. I held my breath. Her sparkling purple eyes began to glow. The soft white light was enchanting and came from a distant place within her gaze. With a thrust of her hips, a tremendous force propelled us toward the surface.
We broke through the water. I opened my eyes but winced from the bright sun.
“Hold tightly to me,” said Cora. “I will take you to the shore of the main cove.”
~~~~~~
I crawled from the shore as Cora remained in the shallows.
“Lord Sydin has let his grief cloud his judgment,” she said. “He has given up on this sacred island, but I have not, and neither have the others. The Obsidian has dropped anchor and the pirates are coming. You and your crew are our only hope. Please, Jacob, find a way to save us.”
A tear fell from her purple eye. It was small, but shined brighter than the surrounding waves.
“I will, Cora. I promise.”
I heard Owen shouting a command. “Row faster!” I ran in the direction of his voice. I spotted Owen and Hammock riding the waves. They had commandeered one of our rowboats. Hammock worked the oars. The hulking barque waited patiently in the distance. I could see several rowboats coming toward the isle. I guessed it would take them close to an hour to reach us.
“Owen! Stop,” I yelled to him. “Come back and finish what you started.”
“It is finished, fool! I will be rich and you will be deceased. Farewell!”
I ran into the water. The ocean rushed over my legs and lapped against my chest. Cora came up suddenly and stopped me.
“No. Let him go,” she said. “You cannot catch him. He is too far at sea.”
“I have to stop him!”
“Stay with me. Wait and watch if you must.” She turned from me and looked out at Owen and Hammock.
Hammock rowed swiftly. Their boat bounced atop the rising waves, yet they appeared to be stuck on something.
Two large hands came from the water and gripped the stern of their boat.
Owen lifted his cutlass to hack at the hands.
The blue water burst at the stern, and through the splash I saw Manta’s colossal frame come down upon the boat. The green Merlord used his overpowering might to force the stern into the water. The boat’s bow lifted. Owen stumbled and collapsed atop Hammock. Manta growled viciously as he pulled the rowboat into the sea.
Owen and Hammock screamed in terror as they tumbled into the water. There was an enormous splash, and in it I glimpsed a wide green fin thrash and flail. As suddenly as the chaos began, it ended. The boat sank and the water calmed. Owen and Hammock did not emerge.
Cora looked away and sighed. She pressed her head against my chest. I held her as she whimpered. “Forgive Manta,” she said softly.
“He deserves praise, not forgiveness,” I replied. I took her face in my hands and looked tenderly into her liquid eyes. “I must find Grant and the others. We will protect Cerulean Isle with our lives. Tell this to Sydin. Tell this to any who will listen. Most importantly, Cora, stay clear of L’Ollon’s men. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Cora Star gave a small smile and nodded her understanding. I pulled away from her and trudged through the water to the
sand, hurrying to find my friends.
~~~~~~
“Jacob. Over here,” called Grant. He was crouching behind a large boulder, clutching his jeweled rapier in his good hand. I rushed to his side. He pointed to the sea, where six longboats swam over the waves, closing the distance between the Obsidian and Cerulean Isle. “They’re coming. I estimate ten men in each boat. Here, take this and follow me.” Grant handed me my Mer-forged sword and led me into the wild of the island.
A wide trailhead opened just beyond the entrance of the crystal forest, making the area look much like a spacious cavern with blue and silver walls. Jagged corners and gnarled boulders cast strange shadows throughout the large, stone room.
“Our crew is hiding behind the stone pillars and atop the high ledges,” Grant explained. “We will draw L’Ollon’s men into the cavern to surround and overwhelm them. We’ll have one chance for victory with our trap.”
“What trap?”
“There isn’t time to explain. Just fall back and take cover when you hear me call.”
We hid behind corners of blue rock on opposite sides of the trail and peered around the stone walls, watching the beach outside the cavern.
The pirates of the Obsidian landed on the island. Their rowboats sliced the white sand. As they grouped, they assessed the island and crystal forest. They were seasoned warriors dressed in dark tunics with skin charred from the sun. Long silver blades gleamed from their belts. From the midst of the mob came an older man with long gray hair.
He wore a dark red cloak over his shoulders that looked like a bloody bed sheet fluttering in the wind. His black tunic was studded with gold. A curving cutlass clanged against his hip, and the smooth stones of the shore crunched under his tall black boots. He stared at the island, his black eyes like nuggets of coal. I watched him pull the sword from his belt. His surrounding men fell silent. The shore lapped behind them and the indifferent ocean stirred.
The gray-haired man gave an order. Although his voice was hoarse and strained, I recognized Captain Jean L’Ollon. “Raid the island.” He drew in a long, labored breath. “Kill anything that lives.”
The men roared and rushed forth. When the first one entered the cavern, Konopo gave a shrill battle cry and let loose an arrow. The shaft streaked through the air and pierced the man’s heart. L’Ollon’s men looked in the direction of the shot, but Konopo had moved out of sight. Enraged by the quick death of their mate, they poured into the stone room, trampling their dead comrade and shouting threats.
Nearly sixty men filled the cavern, with swords drawn and eyes blazing. Another tribal call echoed loud and at this, Destiny’s crew pounced from their places of hiding and engaged the pirates of the Obsidian. The clashing of steel on steel rang as loud as the groans and cries of battle. Blades flashed and whirled, sending a faint red mist into the air.
Grant called out over the clamor of war. “Jacob, are you ready?”
I nodded, wringing the handle of my broadsword.
Grant grinned, lifted the tip of his rapier, and hollered, “For the Merfolk, for Grenada, for us!”
He leaped from around the corner and entered the fight; his jeweled sword gleamed like the walls of cerulean stone that surrounded us. He took down three men, moving fast, ducking and shifting from side to side. His deadly weapon stabbed true and chimed as he parried the thrusts of his attackers. Even with one arm in a sling, Grant was a formidable opponent. His curling red hair thrashed like fire. His movements were well practiced and nearly impossible to predict. The enemy, realizing that Grant and his rapier were quickly reducing their numbers, closed in around him.
I rushed in, my azumetalla sword cutting through their blades as if they were wood. My sword was nearly weightless in my grasp, and all that came at me fell fast with fatal wounds. Grant and I stood together, covering one another. My blade sliced and hacked as Grant’s stabbed and cut.
Beyond our fight, Waylin fought with precision, his skill more refined than Grant’s. He moved away from his attackers’ advances and struck them dead when they were off balance. I noticed a pirate readying to attack him from behind. I called out to Waylin, who spun around and stabbed the man in the throat. The bleeding man doubled over, but Waylin took hold of him and shoved him into an oncoming group. They fell back as their dying mate crashed on top of them. Our crew moved over the toppled pirates for an easy kill.
L’Ollon’s men could not stop the deadly accuracy of Konopo’s arrows. With each kill, Konopo disappeared, only to emerge seconds later atop a new perch where he’d shoot down another, often saving the life of one of our own.
Though we fought well, we were outnumbered. It seemed that for every pirate killed, two more entered the battle. Grant slipped away and moved toward the entrance of the cavern. He yelled to our men, “Fall back, Destiny! Take cover!”
Our crewmates peeled themselves from the fight, each man ducking under a stone eve or retreating to nearby tunnels or grottos; L’Ollon’s men stood massed in the center of the room. I pulled my blade free from my attacker’s chest and backed away, taking cover under a stone overhang.
Konopo rushed to Grant’s side at the forest entrance and pulled back his bow string. He aimed his arrow overhead. I looked up. Above the room hung Destiny’s largest fishing net filled with sharp broken shards of cerulean stone and jagged lengths of crystal. Konopo’s arrow severed the line holding the netting in place.
As the net gave way, the deadly shower began. Screams filled the room as flesh ripped and bodies broke. Long, gleaming spikes impaled the pirates. Blood sprayed over the walls and pooled on the floor. A handful of men survived, only to be killed as Konopo emptied his quiver.
I was wet with blood, some of it my own. Mangled corpses filled the room, but the one I wanted was not among them. Grant ordered the crew to remain in the cavern as he and I made for the beach to find Captain Jean L’Ollon.
Chapter 46
Reunion
The white-sand beach was quiet. As the sun began to set over the water and the warm breeze blew, it was hard to believe that a bloody battle had just concluded. Grant and I paced along the shore of the cove, panning the area for any sign of Jean L’Ollon. The sloop Destiny remained ensnared in the shallows and beyond, the Obsidian drifted. It was then I heard a rustling on the wind, like a small sail flapping nearby. We looked toward the edge of the cove and from behind a wall of boulders stepped Captain L’Ollon, his scarlet cloak rippling around him.
In addition to the cutlass in his hand, L’Ollon wore two ornate pistols tucked into his belt. The handle of a long dagger protruded from the top of his boot. L’Ollon watched, undaunted, as we approached.
I stopped a mere five feet from him and realized that he did not recognize me. I knew his face instantly, though it wore the weathering of a decade and deep scars from his battle with James Shanley. The lower lip that was once split in two healed imperfectly. It was now folded and thick with scar tissue. His black eyes were unchanged as he looked at us. His dry mouth formed a crooked smile.
“Stand down, sailors,” he ordered. “There will be no heroes on this island.” He inhaled, making a long, dry “eeeeee” sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Come at me if you will, fools. You seem,” he wheezed again, “ready for death.”
“You will address us properly, L’Ollon. I am Jacob of Rosewing, sworn guardian of Cerulean Isle.”
Hearing my name made his dark eyes widen.
“And I am Grant of Rosewing, your old cooper!” He stood at my side with his rapier drawn.
L’Ollon struggled to speak. “Quite the reunion, lads. No longer will I see boys in my memory.” His breath whistled. “Nay, I will see men, and dead ones at that.”
His swift cutlass slashed in a wide horizontal arch. Grant leapt back, escaping the slice by the grace of an inch. With equal quickness but greater power, I met L’Ollon’s blade with mine. The broadsword of azumetalla broke his cutlass in half.
L’Ollon watched the shards of his blade fall to t
he sand, his moment of distraction giving Grant an opportunity to attack. He stepped in, lunging forward with his deadly rapier. L’Ollon, to my complete surprise, grabbed hold of my blade and pulled me toward him. His palms were cut deeply, but he wasn’t slowed. His strong, old arms entwined me and forced my body in front of Grant’s attack. There was no way to stop his rapier. The sharp tip entered my side. I gasped as the cold steel went through me. Grant quickly pulled the blade out of me and stared, in horror, at the fount of blood. L’Ollon wheezed and laughed.
“Jacob! I’m sorry… I…,” cried Grant.
I fell to the sand, one hand clutching my wound and the other clutching my sword. “Get him,” I groaned.
Grant went for L’Ollon. Weary from battle, his offense was awkward; his broken arm an obvious hindrance. The old captain was quick and slipped away from the streaking rapier. After creating enough distance, he drew his pistols and ordered Grant to yield. I fought the pain in my side, stood up, and charged.
L’Ollon turned a pistol on me. “Halt or the cooper dies,” he shouted.
I had no choice. The vile captain stood with his back to the ocean and the falling sun.
“For ten long years,” L’Ollon hissed, “I have searched for you backstabbing bastards. You could have had a great career among my crew but, like foolish children, you chose to throw it all away.” He sucked in another breath. “Every time I breathe I think of you, Jacob.” He touched his chest. “What did you leave me with? One lung and one goal. At long last I will reclaim my fortune and rid myself of your troublesome existence, just as your father did long ago.” The breath from his one lung screeched in my ears.
“As for you, Cooper. That old dream of piracy still burns inside you. One time you asked to be an articled crew member; in honor of that memory, I make you an offer. I will give you half of the gold on this island. We will sail up the north coast to meet some allies,” he wheezed, “and you can buy yourself a galleon and a crew to sail her. All of your dreams will come true. Just drop your blade and stand by my side. What say you?”
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