Wild Waters Page 4

  Jack was sorely tempted to aim his chair in the direction of her voice, but somehow he was sure she would know it was him, even in the dark. And he had no desire to meet her daggers—he’d run afoul of them quite enough as a young lad.

  Something whizzed past his ear and he ducked, wondering what Grandmama was throwing now.

  Who was attacking them? The enemy fought in eerie silence, melting in and out of the shadows. Every “oof!” and “OW!” Jack heard sounded as if it came from his own crew. Who were these dangerous, powerful fighters that had struck so suddenly?

  Was it Benedict’s army, back again? Surely they couldn’t have caught up to the Pearl so quickly. Not only that, but the Royal Navy tended to be a lot noisier about their battles. Lots of clanking and pistols and yelling orders and so on.

  Suddenly, Jack felt a hand clamp around his boot. Startled, he whipped his other foot around and kicked his assailant in the face with a loud crunching sound. The hand released him and he heard a thud as the person hit the floor. “Sorry,” he called over the battle sounds, hoping it wasn’t a friend he’d just whacked (he wouldn’t mind if it were family).

  What if these were King Samuel’s men? Jack ducked as something else flew over his head. He danced across the table, trying to tiptoe around the food platters while knocking pirates over the head as he went. Why would King Samuel be attacking Captain Teague’s house? Perhaps he’d heard that another Pirate Lord was here and wanted to test his mettle. Jack preened for a second before realizing that didn’t make much sense—again, how would he have gotten here so quickly?

  Then something tugged on Jack’s long dreadlocks, and he felt a stab of fear in his gut. Worst of all…what if they were being attacked by the Shadow Lord? He could be anywhere, anytime, as far as Jack knew, and it made sense that his army would prefer to fight in darkness. Perhaps these were his deadly shadow warriors, sent to stop Jack before he could find another vial of Shadow Gold.

  Jack remembered the carnage they’d seen in Panama—the smoking town and lifeless bodies left behind after the Shadow Army attacked.

  From what Alex said, it sounded as if they could appear and disappear like smoke, destroying everything in their path.

  His heart hammered in his chest, and he took a careful step back to the center of the table. Whoever they were fighting, he had his own demons to fight as well. His shadow-sickness always got worse in the dark, as the shadows gathered gleefully to pull on his braids and clamber along his coat. His shoulders felt heavier and heavier, weighed down by the shadows piling onto his back. Nausea built up in his stomach, and he fought a wave of panic.

  Jack took another step back, away from the fighting, and felt something solid brush against his shoulder. He jumped and flailed and nearly sliced his sword through it before he realized what it was…one of the bronze lamps hanging from the ceiling over the table.

  An idea struck him. If they were fighting shadows, what better to fight them with than light? Or at least they could get a look at who they were dealing with. It would be nice to know if he was kicking his own people in the face.

  Jack threw the chair in his hand out into the room, where it landed on someone who yelped in pain. He fumbled through his coat, searching for a tinderbox. He knew he had one somewhere in his pockets…no, that was his folding spyglass…a handful of gold coins…something that felt like a hairball—where had that come from?—and then, finally…

  “Aha!” he cried in delight, whisking the tinderbox out of his pocket. Quick as a wink, a flame flared between his hands and he set the oil of the lamp ablaze. In just a few steps he was able to do the same to the other two lamps.

  As light filled the room, all the battling pirates stopped fighting and shielded their eyes for a moment. Blinking, they looked around in surprise.

  They were not fighting shadows after all. The fierce strangers who had burst through the windows were men—tall, muscular men with long daggers and very piratical outfits. Jack squinted. A few of them looked oddly familiar.

  “Jack Sparrow?” said a voice behind him.

  Jack whirled and spotted the leader of the attack. His mouth dropped open.

  “Gombo!”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Back at the beginning of his adventure with the Shadow Gold, Jack had helped a runaway slave named Gombo escape from New Orleans by giving him passage on the Pearl. Gombo had later left the ship to captain his own crew, but Jack hadn’t expected to find him here—certainly not at the other end of his sword!

  The tall pirate captain gave Jack a stern look. “It’s Gentleman Jocard now,” he said. “Not Gombo anymore. You must remember that.”

  Then suddenly he broke into a wide smile. “Hello, Jack.”

  “Captain Jack,” Jack reminded him, delighted to see his old friend. “How are you? Sick of captaining your own ship by now, eh?” he asked hopefully, sheathing his sword. “You must be ready to come back and be our cook again. Well, tell you what, agree to a pay cut—half your wages, say—and I’ll think about it, savvy?”

  “What wages?” Jean asked ruefully, rubbing a lump that was forming on his head. Jack winced guiltily.

  “Thanks for the offer, Jack,” Jocard said, amused, “but I’m afraid life aboard the Ranger suits me very well.”

  All the pirates jumped as loud thumping noises echoed through the room. Jack glanced around at his pirates. Teague and Grandmama were at either end of the table, still brandishing their weapons. Barbossa was staggering to his feet with a furious expression, cod soup dripping from his hair and blood dripping from his nose. Uh-oh, Jack thought, noticing the fierce glare Barbossa was directing at Jack’s boots.

  And Carolina was standing with her back to the wall, sword in hand, facing three of Jocard’s pirates. She glanced around as Jack did, frowning quizzically.

  Someone was missing…two someones.

  THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!

  “Help!” cried a muffled voice.

  Carolina strode over to a door in the side wall and threw it open, revealing a small closet—and Diego and Marcella!

  Marcella had her arms around a flustered Diego, while he was struggling to get away. He’d realized his mistake moments after the door closed. In the dark, he’d grabbed the wrong girl! Of course, there was no telling Marcella that; she was convinced that he was her savior.

  “Wait!” Diego cried, seeing Carolina. “I didn’t—this isn’t what it looks like! It was an accident!”

  Carolina gave him a disgusted look and strode over to stand beside Jack, resolutely turning her back on Diego.

  “Oh, it’s you,” Marcella said, spotting Jocard. She disentangled herself from Diego and sauntered into the room, fluffing her hair. “What an unpleasant surprise. I thought we’d finally gotten rid of you.”

  “If I had known you’d be here,” Jocard said to her, folding his arms, “I never would have come.”

  “Now there’s a sentiment I can agree with,” Jack said heartily.

  Marcella stuck out her tongue at Jocard.

  “Gentleman Jocard,” Teague said thoughtfully. He twirled his sword in his fingers, clearly not willing to sheath it yet. “I’ve heard much of you. In only a few short months, I hear, you have become one of the most prosperous and respected pirates in the waters around Libertalia.”

  Jocard gave a small bow of acknowledgment, and Marcella rolled her eyes. “Ooooh, aren’t you fancy,” she snipped. “La la la, sooooo good at being a pirate, like that’s anything to brag about.”

  “At least I am good at something,” Jocard said gravely, “unlike certain people, who are good for nothing but whining and eating nine times their weight in food.”

  Marcella gasped with outrage. “Diego!” she cried. “Defend me!”

  “Ahem,” Teague said, clearing his throat. “If I may interrupt this touching reunion—would anyone mind explaining why you were attacking my mansion?”

  Jocard gestured to his pirates, motioning for them to stand down. Daggers vanished under shirts and
into boots; Jack saw at least two men slip their weapons into their hats. Suddenly the room seemed a lot less troublesome. Jack jumped off the table and wiped yams off his boots onto the carpet, until Grandmama gave him a beady-eyed stare and he stopped, trying to look innocent.

  “I heard that you were entertaining a Pirate Lord,” Jocard said to Captain Teague. “I assumed it was King Samuel…but I am most pleased to discover that I was wrong.” The corners of his mouth twitched as he glanced at Jack. “Of all the Pirate Lords—I must admit you were the last I would have expected to find here, Jack.”

  “Oh, me, too, mate,” Jack said fervently. “Would love to be a thousand miles from here, if I could. No offense,” he said to Teague, who shrugged.

  “So,” Jack went on, studying Jocard’s fierce, proud expression. “You have a problem with King Samuel, eh?”

  All the pirates in Jocard’s crew scowled, and Jocard’s face darkened. “He must be stopped,” the captain said in a low, passionate voice. Something in his tone hinted at a personal vendetta, but when he didn’t elaborate, Jack decided not to press it.

  “Well,” he said, “it just so happens that we’re looking for this Samuel fellow ourselves.” Jack tapped his nose, thinking.

  “We should look for him together!” Carolina burst out. “And fight him together! We can stop him, I know we can!”

  “I say!” Jack gave her an outraged look. “What did I say about who the captain is around here? It’s me, that’s who! I give the orders, savvy?”

  “Yes, I know,” Carolina said. “But—”

  “Ah, ah, ah!” Jack said. “No buts! Shush! I have a fantastic idea!” He turned to Jocard. “We should fight King Samuel together! Strength in numbers, eh?”

  Carolina sighed.

  “You with all your brawny pirates,” Jack went on, “and me with my brains and cunning and savoir faire and exceptional fashion sense. I think this could work.”

  “No way!” Marcella complained. “This coldhearted pirate abandoned us! I don’t want to work with him! Make him go away!”

  “Interesting,” Jocard said, ignoring her. “Pirates working together—most unorthodox.”

  As they were speaking, Teague drew his chair out from the table and sat down, flinging his coattails out behind him regally. He lifted his eyebrow at the food on the table, most of it now clearly covered in Jack’s bootprints, and rang the small silver bell again. As servants hurried in quietly to clear the table, Teague folded his hands in front of him and regarded Jack and Jocard.

  “What you are proposing is very unwise,” Teague said darkly. “King Samuel is impossible to defeat. Don’t you think I would have done it myself otherwise?”

  “Not necessarily,” Grandmama said from the other end of the table. She grabbed a hunk of beef off one of the untrampled platters before the servants took it away and started gnawing on it with gusto. “You’re not as daring as you used to be, my boy. Now, if I were still running things, no one else would dare call themselves king around here!”

  Teague gave her an unpleasant look and turned back to Jack. “If you do this,” he said, “and if you fail, which I am certain you will, King Samuel will seek revenge on all the pirates here. I guarantee he will attack Libertalia and destroy it. I have no love for Samuel myself, but at least right now we have an uneasy truce. We leave each other alone. You break that truce—and many will suffer for it.”

  “Many are suffering!” Jocard cried, slamming his hand on the table. “Every day King Samuel allows more and more of our people to be sold into slavery. We cannot stand by and let him go on like this!”

  “Besides,” Jack pointed out, “he is a pirate, remember. Which means he could change his mind at any moment and come charging over here with his slave-trading ships ready and waiting for new cargo.”

  “Exactly,” Jocard said. “We overthrow Samuel, and then a better Pirate Lord of the Atlantic Ocean can ensure the safety of Libertalia for a long time to come.”

  Teague snorted. “Easier said than done. King Samuel’s fortress is south of here, on the western side of Madagascar, on a cliff high above the sea.

  It is impossible to scale. A thicket of warships waits in the bay below, and cannons line the shore. You’ll never even get close enough to shout a feeble threat before you find yourselves at the bottom of the sea. I’m certainly not joining you on this foolhardy mission.”

  “Tut, tut,” Jack said, waving one hand dismissively. “Leave all the planning to me! I’ll do the thinking, Jocard will do the fighting. Sounds perfectly fair.”

  “Hmmm,” Jocard responded. He stroked his beard and studied Jack. “We shall see. Let’s meet again tomorrow night, on my ship. That should give you enough time to come up with this ‘plan’ you mention, and then I shall decide how I feel about it. Deal?” He reached out his hand, and Jack, grinning, shook it.

  “Deal!” he said.

  “No deal!” Marcella shouted, but no one paid any attention to her.

  “We are doomed,” Teague muttered darkly from his chair.

  But Jack wasn’t worried. After all, overthrowing King Samuel wasn’t exactly his real priority. All he needed was a plan that would distract Samuel long enough for Jack to get inside the fortress and grab the vial of Shadow Gold. He told himself he didn’t particularly care what happened to Samuel or Libertalia afterwards. The Shadow Gold was the most important thing if Jack Sparrow was to survive to fight again another day.

  Besides, he knew just who to ask for a crafty idea—Alex, the man who had sailed with the scheming Shadow Lord himself. Surely there was something in the Shadow Lord’s bag of tricks that Jack could use against King Samuel.

  Or if not…Jack just had to hope that his own brains were more than a match for any other Pirate Lord!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It was an odd group that assembled on Libertalia’s dock two mornings later. The sun shone brightly in an azure blue sky, burning away the early morning clouds. On one side of the dock, the Pearl was swarming with activity as pirates and retired pirates climbed all over it, hammering and swabbing and putting everything to rights again. Once word got out that the captain, Jack Sparrow, might or might not be related to Libertalia’s own lord, Captain Teague, Billy had had no trouble finding skilled men who were eager to help fix up the ship. He told Jack they would be ready to sail again in just one day.

  “Ah, we’ll be back by then,” Jack said, clapping his old friend on the shoulder. “I mean, how long can it take to walk across an island, sneak into a king’s fort, steal a vial, and overthrow him? Right? Right.”

  Billy looked glumly dubious, but he didn’t argue. He was willing to stay with the ship waiting for Jack, but if word came back that Samuel had defeated him, Billy was also more than willing to take the Pearl and sail on back to North Carolina without him. He missed his wife and son, whom Jack had promised to return him to months ago. At this point, he knew he had no choice but to sail on…he just had to hope he’d get home again at the end of Jack’s latest wild adventure.

  “You know, I could stay with the ship instead of Billy,” Barbossa offered slyly. “He’d be a great asset to you in this battle, and you can certainly trust me with the Pearl.…”

  “Nonsense!” Jack cried, and Barbossa frowned, worried for a moment that Jack knew how untrustworthy Barbossa really was. But then Jack went on: “You’re a great asset, too, Hector. I mean, not amazing or anything, but don’t sell yourself short; I bet you can take out at least one pirate with that pistol of yours. Or scare ’em off with your face! Ha! And away we go!” He swung down to the dock on a long rope, missing the ferocious glare Barbossa sent after him.

  Barbossa’s nose this morning was enormous and purple as a result of the battle in the dark. He’d covered it with a hideous bandage, but it gave him an even more menacing look than usual. Not to mention that he could not seem to get the smell of cod out of his hair. The first mate fumed. He knew exactly which pirate he wanted to take out with his pistol…as soon as he had a chan
ce.

  Carolina was already on the dock, stretching. She felt tense and uncomfortable from two nights of sleeping on a regular bed again. Teague was a hospitable host, and his food was much better than what they got on the Pearl, but Carolina had a hard time sleeping without the creak of the hammocks and the swaying of the boat. She longed to be back at sea again as soon as possible.

  The only upside to being on land was that it was easier to get away from Diego and Marcella. Whenever Diego came looking for her, she could escape into the jungle around Teague’s mansion and just walk for hours. Madagascar was full of strange animals and plants she’d never seen before; it was also one of the most beautiful places she’d ever been. She could see why the pirates had chosen it for their secret utopian hideout.

  Marcella sashayed past, batting her eyelashes at herself in that silver mirror again. Carolina was so sick of that mirror. She wished she could grab it and throw it into the bay. But then Marcella would pitch a fit and Carolina would have to hear about it for the rest of the voyage, so it wasn’t worth it.

  On the other side of the dock, an old, practically rotting ship bobbed alongside the gleaming Ranger, Jocard’s vessel. This was a key part of Jack’s clever plan (extremely clever, if he did say so himself, even if it was based on tales Alex had told him of the Shadow Lord’s methods). Jocard’s first mate, Marcus, would sail around the island on the Ranger, towing the old ship behind him. Then the Ranger would hide, and a skeleton crew of a few brave men—the best swimmers on Jocard’s crew—would sail the old ship at Samuel’s fortress as if they were attacking it. This decoy would draw the attention of the fort’s defenders…while the real threat snuck up on them from an entirely different direction.

  Jocard shook his head, looking over the ragtag bunch of pirates who followed Jack. He squinted particularly suspiciously at Catastrophe Shane, who had already tripped over his boots and nearly fallen into the bay four times.