The Lost Prince

by Matt Myklusch

  Dean massaged his aching nose. It hurt, but it wasn’t broken. “We’re fine,” he told Verrick. “Just a little disagreement between friends. Isn’t that right, Ronan?”

  Ronan snorted as Verrick’s men held him fast. “Aye, Captain. Friends to the end.”

  Verrick put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “If this is how you are among friends, I’d hate to meet your enemies.”

  Dean let out a nervous laugh. “You can say that again.”

  • • •

  The Tideturner sailed all day and through the night. The next morning, Dean woke up with the sun and found that most of Verrick’s men were still asleep. A full day’s journey into the Bermuda Triangle, and all hands on deck were snoring loud and resting easy. So far, no one on board had given Dean any reason to believe they were the con men that he first took them to be. Could they really be from Zenhala? Do they really think I’m their prince? Dean spotted Ronan at the bow of the ship, whittling away at a small piece of wood. He joined him there and looked out on the horizon in silence. Not a word had passed between them since their fight the previous morning. The tension was as thick as the fog clouds up ahead. Dean wanted to clear the air before they went any further.

  “Look what I found below deck,” Dean said, holding up a kiteboard and sail from the Santa Clara raid. “They must have brought it on board with the rest of us.”

  Ronan barely looked up from his woodwork. “Lucky. You can use that to jump ship when it’s time to cut your losses here.”

  Dean grimaced and set down the kiteboarding rig. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you? I know you’re hurting right now, Ronan. You loved Gentleman Jim like a brother; any fool can see that. The man made a lasting impression on me in a day, so I can’t imagine what you’re feeling after sailing with him for years. But whatever’s gone before … however we got started … we’re in this together now. We’ve got to have a truce between us. You’ve got to trust me and follow my lead. This is what I do. We’ve got a chance here, but not if I can’t count on you to do your part.”

  Ronan’s knife slipped and he nicked his thumb. He cursed and threw the whittled cross he was working on to the waves. “Let me tell you what you can count on. You see those mists up ahead? They mark the center of the Bermuda Triangle. I’ve only come this far one other time. That’s where this journey’s going to end. Finding Zenhala is no plan for settling our debt with One-Eyed Jack. It’s suicide. The Golden Isle’s a myth, and we’re all going to die chasing it.”

  “I see you remain as hopeful as ever.”

  “Make jokes if you like, but you’d share my optimism if you’d ever sailed these waters before.”

  “Look, I thought this was crazy at first too, but now I’m not so sure. Think about it. Would these men sail this far into the Triangle if they weren’t really after the island? Would One-Eyed Jack let us go after Zenhala if he didn’t think we might find it?” Dean pointed to the impenetrable fog up ahead. “What if the Golden Isle’s really out there somewhere waiting for us?”

  Ronan scoffed at Dean. “There’s nothing out there but a watery grave. One-Eyed Jack’s obsessed with Zenhala, Seaborne. He only sent us here because he’s too scared to go himself. I was with him the last time he went looking. It didn’t end well.”

  Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “You sailed with One-Eyed Jack?”

  Ronan nodded. “Nine years ago, I sailed with him. On board the Maelstrom. I was there for his final expedition.”

  “What happened?”

  “Something I’ll never forget. I was just over six years old when I joined his crew. A lowly cabin boy no one ever spoke to unless they needed someone to yell at, that was me.”

  “Sounds familiar,” Dean said.

  “Not likely. I lived through more foul weather than you can imagine, all of it right here.” Ronan shivered, as if someone had just walked over his grave.

  Dean looked around. The fog clouds ahead were as dark as smoke from a fire, but other than that, conditions were dead calm. “The ocean seems gentle enough this morning.”

  Ronan wagged a finger at Dean. “There’s always a storm raging somewhere in the Triangle. Believe me, I know. Not a day went by that One-Eyed Jack didn’t have us out here in the thick of it, scouring these waters for the Golden Isle. How is it you don’t know that about him? One of his own spies?”

  Dean scratched his head. Seven years had passed since One-Eyed Jack had sent him out on his first spy mission, stowing away on board a gold-laden trade ship. In all that time, One-Eyed Jack had never left St. Diogenes, but anything before that, Dean was too young to remember. “What made him stop looking?”

  “The worst storm any of us ever saw stopped him. Dead in his tracks.” Ronan pointed ahead. “It was out there, right where you and I are headed now. The weather was unnaturally cold. The clouds were black curtains drawn across the sky, and the wind scraped against our faces like frozen chunks of coral. Rain stabbed down like nails, and the waves …” Ronan shuddered. “Huge swells rose high above the ship and crashed down on us over and over again. I had to tie a line around my waist just to keep from getting washed away, but not One-Eyed Jack. He stood rooted to the spot like the trunk of a tree as the ship pitched up and down, nearly flipping us over.”

  Dean shrugged. “Doesn’t sound like the storm got the better of him.”

  “It wasn’t only the storm. We hit something out there. Or should I say, something hit us.” Ronan took a deep breath. He eyed the mists up ahead with grim trepidation. “I’ve never spoken of this to anyone. Not ever. I didn’t get a good look at first. I only caught a glimpse. A flash of lightning lit up the sky, and a tall winding shadow cast itself over the sails. I spun around to see what it was, but I was too slow. The light was already gone. A moment later, something big and heavy slapped against the boat like a whip. Decking splintered and a cannon flew through the air. Jim Harper pushed me out of the way as a hundred pounds of iron flew by, just missing me. He was saving me even then.”

  Dean looked out at the fast-approaching mist. “What hit the ship, Ronan?”

  “It was hard to make out in the darkness, but I know what I saw. There was no doubting its giant size and twisting shape. When the lightning flashed again, I got a good look. Big as a whale and twice as long. Its snakelike body rose up out of the water in arcs as it looped around us. Armored scales covered its hide like shields, and waves of sharp fins ran down its back like swords. That thing moved faster than anything its size had a right to. One minute I spotted its head on the port side, and then in the blink of an eye, I saw it again on the starboard. It was half the size of the ship, and it roared loud enough to drown out the storm.”

  Dean searched Ronan’s face for a sign that he was playing with him. Instead, Ronan’s eyes burned with haunted intensity. His hands gripped the handle of his knife hard enough to turn his knuckles white. He wasn’t making this up.

  “What happened next?”

  Ronan shook his head with a sigh. “Nothing, or I wouldn’t be here to tell the tale. The beast dove back down beneath the waves, and we never saw it again. But One-Eyed Jack was useless from that point on. He stood at the helm with his mouth open, just staring into the ocean. Jim waved his hands in front of his face but couldn’t reach him. We would have died out there if he hadn’t taken control of the ship. To pay him back, One-Eyed Jack made him a captain at the age of twenty. I joined his crew that day, and have sailed beside him ever since. But that’s over now.” Ronan shook his head mournfully. “I swore I’d never come back to this place, no matter what. Seems the years have made a liar out of me.”

  “Yer a liar, all right,” Rook called out. Dean and Ronan turned their eyes up to find their unsavory comrade perched high in the rigging. “Don’t pay no mind to that rubbish, Seaborne. Ain’t nothin’ to it but barnacles and bilgewater. There’s no such thing as sea serpents.”

  “Actually, you’d be surprised what manner of beasts are lurking out there,” Verrick said, com
ing up behind the boys. Dean turned around and saw the captain had changed into a formal dress uniform. He looked like a naval officer, but his colors belonged to no fleet Dean knew of. “It’s true,” Verrick continued. “All manner of terrible creatures prowl these waters. They weather storms you wouldn’t believe for most of the year, but not to worry. They’re out of season at the moment.”

  “Out of season?” Ronan asked.

  “Aye. For one month out of every twelve, the storms around our island clear up. The sea serpents sleep a deep slumber, and the compass points north just as it should. This is the month when the traders ship out the golden harvest. It ends this week, when the moon is full.”

  Dean looked at Ronan. “Lot going on this week, you might say.”

  Verrick smiled broadly as the Tideturner entered the mist. “There’ll be a lot going on this very morning. We’re nearly there.”

  The ship passed through the murky vapors and emerged from the fog a few moments later, to be greeted by clear skies and gentle waves. The only creatures in sight were the dolphins splashing about off the starboard bow. “What did I tell you?” Verrick said. “Out of season.” He patted Ronan on the back and continued making his rounds, checking up on the ship and his crew.

  Ronan stared out at the sparkling blue water, dumbstruck. He couldn’t believe the ocean wasn’t churning about, black as tar. Dean put a foot up on the bowsprit and looked out on the waves with hope. “Just admit it’s possible, Ronan. It’s possible the island’s out there.”

  Ronan scoffed at Dean’s buoyant attitude. “You sound like every other swab who got himself drowned chasing golden trees.”

  “Maybe so. But I’ve got my sights set on bigger things than gold.”

  “And what might that be, pray tell? You think you’re going to end up a prince and call a castle your home?” Ronan had a good laugh at Dean’s expense. “If that’s what you’re after, you’re a bigger fool than I thought.”

  Dean took a moment to reflect on Ronan’s dream scenario. That’s all it was. A dream. It would have been nice to have a home and actually belong somewhere for a change, but Dean hadn’t set his sights quite that high. He stepped back down to Ronan’s level. “You know better than that, Ronan. I’m not a fool any more than I am a prince. And I’m not a saint, either. I’m here to get free. Mark my words, I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

  Before Ronan could say anything in reply, Rook jumped down to the deck and wedged himself between them. “Look there!” He pointed out across the horizon. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Ronan cast his eyes out across the waves and froze when he saw it. “Blow me down and pick me up,” he said, pulling his bandanna from his brow.

  “Let me have a look!” Dean pushed Ronan and Rook out of his way and searched the sea. His heart sped up as a tiny island came into view, far off in the distance. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Don’t ya?” Rook asked, elbowing Dean in the side. “Whatever it takes, Seaborne … that’s what you said. Yer gonna get the chance to prove it.”

  CHAPTER 12

  THE RETURN

  Gather ’round, lads! Gather ’round. I’ve been waiting thirteen years to fly these colors.”

  Verrick took out a bright blue flag and held it for all to see. A mighty cheer rose up from the crew, and Verrick tossed the flag to the nearest sailor. Dean watched as a man with bushy blond sideburns snatched it from the air and scampered up the mast, light as a feather.

  “Is that the flag of Zenhala?” Ronan asked as the man raised the banner high above the sails. It was a striking shade of blue, emblazoned with the same mark that was branded on Dean’s arm.

  “It’s not a flag at all,” Verrick said. “It’s Zenhala’s Royal Standard, hoisted only to note the presence of a monarch.”

  Ronan came up behind Dean. “That’s you, don’t forget.” He gave a mock bow. “Your Majesty.”

  A horn sounded in the distance, startling Dean. Its clarion call rang out far and wide, cutting across the waves in every direction. Dean leaned out over the gunwale and put a hand to his ear. It was coming from the island. He heard the horn sound again, and something else besides. People cheering … for him. A whole island full of people were making their voices heard.

  Dean ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t believe this.”

  Verrick laughed out loud. “You keep saying that. Can I ask what it was you expected to find?”

  Dean looked up at Verrick. “I don’t think I expected anything. I merely hoped.”

  Verrick’s smile could not be contained. “That makes two of us, Your Grace. Today, at last, my hopes have been fulfilled.”

  Verrick bowed his head and returned to the helm. Dean stayed at the railing to marvel at the view. Rook and Ronan stood on either side of him as the Tideturner flew across the sparkling water. The ocean around Zenhala was bluer than anything Dean had ever seen. Vivid shades of deep turquoise water contrasted with radiant shallow patches where the sea all but glowed. Alternating streaks of brilliant blue liquid surrounded the island like a seascape painted by an artist. Indeed, the whole island looked like something out of a painting. Lush green mountains with majestic waterfalls rose up behind pristine beaches covered with sand like crushed ivory. There was a rocky harbor with a stone-built dock, and the buildings of the port town were cast in a vibrant array of pastel colors. Bright, happy houses were packed in tight on the bayside rocks and scattered across the face of the large mountains to their north. The kingdom had a thriving population, and in the center of it all, an opulent white palace sat high atop a hill. There was no doubting it now. The Golden Isle of Zenhala was not only real. It was breathtaking.

  “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” Dean said. “It looks like paradise.”

  Rook raised an eyebrow. “Who’s to say it ain’t?”

  Ronan snickered. “Don’t get your hopes up, Rook. They won’t be letting the likes of you into paradise.”

  Rook reached over Dean to give Ronan a shove. “You self-righteous toerag. I’ll make you eat them words!”

  Ronan shoved Rook back. “Don’t you put your hands on me again. You’ll get them back with fingers missing next time.”

  “Enough!” Dean said, pushing them both apart. “Are you two trying to sabotage us?” Dean looked around the ship. Ronan and Rook’s quarrel had drawn the attention of the crew. Again. “Unbelievable, the pair of you! We’re this close to our goal, and still you can’t control yourselves!” Dean spat on the deck. They were going to arouse suspicion if they kept fighting like this. As the only member of the group with any experience as a spy, it was up to him to set Ronan and Rook straight. He pulled them in close and spoke firmly. “This petty squabbling ends now, understand? This is no vacation we’re on. It’s business and we have parts to play. Get in character. We’re all close friends here, savvy? I just found out I’m a prince. Heir to the greatest fortune in all the Caribbean. You two half-wits are here to protect me like the good friends you are. You’re not here to meddle with each other, or with me.” Dean leaned in close to Ronan. “Can you remember that?”

  Ronan pouted. He was older than Dean and didn’t seem to appreciate being bossed around by him, but it was obvious to all that Dean was the expert here. At least when it came to spying. “What do you know about how friends treat each other?”

  “I’ll fake it,” Dean shot back. He poked Ronan in the chest. “If you want to bring One-Eyed Jack back the golden harvest, you’ll do the same. Got it?”

  Sufficiently chastened, Dean’s partners in crime each gave a cursory nod and backed away. Dean took a deep breath, wondering if the two of them had the chops to pull this off. He wasn’t worried about himself. All he ever did was fake who he was, so he was used to this sort of thing. Ronan and Rook were new to the spy game, and they were getting thrown into the deep end on their first time out. The very deep end. As the ship pulled into the port of Zenhala, Dean realized that the magnitude of this mission dwarfe
d all his past experience. A crowd had gathered at the edge of the dock. People who had been swimming on the beach, fishing in boats, or riding over waves on long wooden boards had all stopped what they were doing to watch the Tideturner come in. One pretty young surf rider caught Dean’s eye as she passed. She stared up at him a little too long and nearly crashed into a fisherman’s skiff. Dean hoped she was all right. The waters around the ship were filling up fast. Even up on the ship, Dean started to feel claustrophobic. It wasn’t just the number of people that irked him, it was the level of adoration they poured his way. They were paddling out to meet the boat, excited beyond belief. People waved at Dean and embraced each other, bobbing up and down with tears in their eyes. Everyone was thrilled just to get a look at him. It was as if their wildest dreams had all come true.

  Verrick motioned for Dean to join him at the wheel of the ship. “I told you the people would rejoice.”

  “You spoke the truth,” said Dean. The frenzied display of affection boggled his mind. “This is crazy. They don’t even know me.”

  “They know that you’re their prince.” Verrick pointed to the Royal Standard. “That’s all they need to know.”

  Verrick took the boat in, and Dean looked down at the teeming masses that had assembled on the dock. The crew tied off the ship, and half the men on board jumped out to make way for the landing party. Dean’s presence on the ship made it a royal party, which meant precautions had to be taken. Verrick’s men formed a human barricade as the people of Zenhala stood on their tiptoes trying to get a look at Dean and reach out for the chance to touch him. The walk from the ship was a dizzying experience for Dean. He tugged at his collar. Never before had he impersonated anyone of such stature. Never had he drawn such attention to himself on a mission. A horse-drawn carriage with gilded trimmings pulled up to the end of the dock. Dean knew it could have only one destination. That’s when another “never before” occurred to him. He had never before pretended to be someone’s long-lost son.