Little Jane and the Nameless Isle

by Adira Rotstein

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Treasure Cave

  Jonesy crept along the black sand, watching the last of the sailors disappear over the black rocks. Now he planned to make his way back to wait for Little Jane and the magistrate.

  He checked the pistol for shot and powder, but discovered the entire mechanism was soaked and useless. At least the heavy weapon might prove useful to conk someone over the head with if it came to that.

  Suddenly, Jonesy heard a noise. He looked up and saw a figure sliding out of control down the slope of rock right above him. Before Jonesy could react, the man fell in a shower of stones at his feet.

  Jonesy, for all his supposed cloudy-headedness, had the newcomer pegged in an instant. As the large man stood up and began brushing off the stony debris, Jonesy moved forward and jammed the barrel of the recently-acquired pistol against his neck. “Well, if it ain’t me old china, Ned Ronk.”

  “Let me go,” whimpered Ned. His startled eyes moved over Jonesy’s face before coming to rest on the familiar prison brand on his shoulder. “Come on, ain’t I always been a decent customer down the pub?”

  “Hmmmm,” mused Jonesy, “frequent customer, more like. Hardly decent. Decent don’t hold me baby cousin over the side of a deck rail.”

  “It’s Captain Madsea you be wantin’, Jonesy, not me,” protested Ned, hands raised. “They weren’t my ideas, none of them things what I did.”

  “Maybe this Captain Madsea told you t’do them things and maybe he didn’t,” answered the barkeep amiably, still making no move to attack. “Don’t really matter now, do it? Much as it’d give me pleasure to see him go down, he ain’t here. So, I’ll just have to satisfy meself with knocking your loaf off instead, inn’it?”

  “Leave off,” begged Ned. “I ain’t the one what give the orders. I never harmed yer precious Jane, not really.”

  “And how’d you reckon whether you done her harm or no? Don’t matter who gave you the order. You was well chuffed to do it. You think I ain’t been around? You think you’re such an uncommon man? Pah! I knows you for what you are, Ned Ronk. Knowed men like you aplenty back in London. Still, we took you in, gave you a second chance, made you part of us. And in exchange you betrays us.”

  “Please, Jonesy. I didn’t mean it.”

  A deep furrow creased Jonesy’s brow. “Oh, I think you’re done, bruv. You’re done.”

  With his last chance to weasel out of his predicament evaporating before his eyes, Ned panicked. He struck out at Jonesy with a frantic lunge forward. Jonesy swatted him away as if he were nothing more than a large island mosquito. With a sharp crack, the grip of Jonesy’s pistol connected with the former bosun’s nose, but one hit wasn’t enough to take down a man as large as Ned Ronk. Jonesy, despite his bulk, was the older man and longer out of practice. His movements were slower than he remembered, Ned Ronk’s quicker than he expected.

  “Mr. Jones,” Ned taunted Jonesy, defiantly wiping at the stream of blood gushing from his nostrils. “Somethin’ wrong with yer pistol?”

  “No!”

  “Then why ain’t ye used it yet?”

  “Maybe something’s wrong with me pistol,” growled Jonesy, “or maybe I think you ain’t worth the shot.”

  “Ha!” spat Ned. And with that, he hurled himself at Jonesy, fists at the ready. Jonesy leapt back in time and Ned only managed to land a punch on the barkeep’s beefy upper arm, where it barely hurt him at all. Ned’s body continued to move forward from the force of his punch, and Jonesy took the opportunity to hit the back of his head with handle of the pistol as hard as he could.

  Ned hit the ground, out cold.

  “Like I said, not worth the shot,” repeated Jonesy as he stood over Ned’s motionless form. Still breathing hard from the unaccustomed exertion, he carefully rolled his foe over. Ned remained unconscious, but breathing steadily.

  “Now all we needs is something to tie you up with,” said Mr. Jones.

  In the cool confines of the cave, Bonnie Mary stopped to catch her breath and allow her vision to adjust to the gloom before venturing farther in. About twenty paces from the mouth of the cave she saw them, dozens and dozens of chests of varying shapes and sizes, from the most delicately carved ivory jewel box to wood crates large enough for a man to sit in.

  She scanned the boxes until she spotted one decorated with carvings of elephants. This particular chest they’d taken off a British merchantman south of Calcutta a few years back. Though it’d been a while since she’d seen the ivory-handled dagger it contained, she still remembered the damage its previous owner had caused with it. If only it would work so well for her.

  None of the chests were ever locked, the remote location of the treasure cache considered protection enough against thieves. The rusty clasp of the elephant box proved resistant, but after some prying the lid of the chest finally opened with a loud complaining creak.

  At last!

  Bonnie Mary stared into the chest, stunned. She blinked, as if to clear her vision of the implausible sight. Where was that tell-tale glimmer of precious stone? That happy shimmer of silver and gold?

  She rubbed her eyes and looked again.

  Impossible!

  She raised the chest over her head and shook it, but the only thing inside the chest was … well, the inside of a chest! And even that wasn’t fully there, she realized with escalating panic. There was a gaping hole in the back of the chest, as if something had eaten straight through the wood. Rats? Termites?

  Bonnie Mary tossed the chest aside. There were other weapons in other boxes — jewelled daggers, silver pistols. She picked up a large, heavy-looking box. She nearly fell backward, the chest was so much lighter than it should have been. With a feeling of ominous dread, she yanked off the lid.

  Of course it was light, light as air; for air was all it contained.

  Desperation setting in, she tossed the box away and pulled the rusty latch up on a third. This chest, too, was empty.

  With short, panicked breaths she grasped at another. And another.

  Empty. Empty.

  All empty!

  Bonnie Mary could not understand it. It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be true. Her mind churned with questions.

  To take all the treasure in one go was physically impossible without a large crew of people. It’d taken her and Jim years to accumulate all the chests in the cave, carrying only a few between them every year. Some of the chests were even older than that and had been put there for safekeeping by old Thomas Bright, long ago. Why would someone take all the treasure without the chests to carry it in? It just didn’t make sense. They’d last been on the island only a few months before. The treasure had all been there then, hadn’t it? When was the last time she and Jim had checked inside any of the chests?

  Bonnie Mary thought back, trying to remember. Was it five years ago? Ten?

  But it all had to be there — a haul like that didn’t just vanish. And yet it was gone, all gone.

  How to explain it? Theft? Ludicrous! How could a pirate get any safer than a cursed island with no name, never committed to any naval chart with no known inhabitants? Bonnie Mary glanced furtively around the shadowy cavern, checking for signs of any foreign presence. Nothing. No new marks in the grey-black dust, apart from the usual orange bird tracks. All was as it had always been, no different from when she and Jim last left the cave.

  Not a thing was out of place, and yet there were holes in the chests and the gold and weapons were gone. It was too much for her weary mind to comprehend. The realization of it whirled around her like the confounding winds of a hurricane.

  A sudden noise outside the cave made her jump. In her shock over the missing treasure, she’d momentarily forgotten the men pursuing her and the fight down below, the outcome of which remained a mystery. She tensed as she listened to the echoing sound of footsteps on the rocks outside the cave. The sound of her pursuer’s even gait only confirmed what she already suspected — it was her enemy, Fetz, coming up the path
now, her sweet Jim lost to her forever.

  Her hands curled into fists at her sides as she sniffed back her tears. Nothing for it! She cast her gaze desperately over the chests for a weapon, any weapon she could use against him. With grim determination she picked up the elephant box. You don’t need the dagger, she thought. You don’t need no more than this. His blood for what he done to Jim!

  She raised the chest above her head just as a dark silhouette appeared in the mouth of the cave.

  As she suspected, it was the scarecrow-thin shape of Fetzcaro Madsea.

  In a red haze of fury, Bonnie Mary hurled the chest at his head, but Madsea sidestepped her throw, suffering only a glancing blow. The box crashed to the ground behind him and bounced over the edge of the cliff, smashing to pieces on the rocks below.

  Somewhere far away, a peculiar orange bird screamed, echoing her rage and frustration.

  Cautiously, Madsea entered the cave, the crutch slung over his shoulder.

  Bonnie Mary grabbed another empty treasure chest and held it out as both a shield and a weapon. “Halt!” she cried in warning, as she stepped back into the darker recesses of the cave.

  Somewhere close by, Madsea heard the eerie, echoing cries of the Nameless Isle’s peculiar orange fowl. From under the shadow of the box, Bonnie Mary’s good eye flashed malevolently back up at him. He shivered involuntarily, but then his expression softened.

  Gently, like an animal tamer coaxing a savage tiger from its den, he whispered, “Please, Mary. I won’t hurt you.”

  She was weeping now, he could see, tears marking clean tracks down her dusty cheeks and he was sure he could turn her weak, feminine feelings to his advantage if he just used the right words.

  “You was just a girl when Jim betrayed me,” he said softly. “You were wounded. It wasn’t your …” The next part proved exceedingly difficult for him to say, even in such circumstances. “It wasn’t your fault. Not your fault at all. I know that now. I’m not a man without reason.” He attempted a smile. “Now it falls to you to use your reason and do what’s fitting. No more tricks. Just show me the treasure and I’ll let you go, you have me word.”

  He stuck out a long-fingered hand, but she made no move to lower the chest, though her arms ached from holding it aloft.

  “Show me your cache of gold and I’ll let you go,” Madsea repeated. “You can leave here free as a bird. Free to find your daughter. Think of that. All you must do is show me. Be sensible. There’s nothing to be gained from this. Surely, you see that.”

  He paused, giving her time to consider.

  But his generous offer of clemency was only met with an explosion of bitter laughter. “Oh, Fetz, you’re such a fool.”

  A cannon boomed somewhere in the distance.

  “Can’t you see you’re beat? You and me both. Chance take us all, we’re done. There’s nothing here. Nothing for me and nothing for you, so by all means let’s share.” She laughed shakily.

  “Silence, woman!” Madsea barked, raising the crutch again. “What’re you babbling about?”

  She brushed her sleeve across one eye, then the other. He wasn’t sure whether she was laughing or crying or both. “If I ain’t knowed better, I’d say your ship’s under fire.”

  “I know about me ship!” he shouted. “Now where’s the bleedin’ treasure?”

  She shrugged. “See for yourself.”

  He glanced at the open chests scattered around her. They were all empty. It made no sense. Could Jim and Mary truly plan that far ahead? Who was here to do their bidding with them in the brig of the Panacea the whole time?

  Madsea shook his head. “Enough tricks, woman! Open the rest of the boxes.” Under his watchful eyes she began opening the remaining chests. One by one, Bonnie Mary lifted each lid. One by one they found each as empty inside as the last. All had the same holes at the back as that first chest. What obscure instrument was used to make the holes and what manner of man had wielded it remained a mystery.

  After nearly half an hour of prying open rusty clasps they were down to the last chest in the cavern, but still they’d found no treasure.

  Madsea refused to accept what his eyes plainly told him. It had to be a trick. Just another one of Jim’s tricks.

  In a sudden motion he crossed the space between them and seized Bonnie Mary by her shirt. He shook her like an oversized doll, the cowry shells woven into her braids clacking noisily together.

  “What’ve you done with it all, wench?”

  “Why won’t you believe me? It’s gone, and I gots just as much idea of where to as you do,” she spat back at him.

  The wheels of thought were beginning to turn again in Bonnie Mary’s mind. Madsea would not remain shocked by the treasure’s disappearance for long, she knew. And without the treasure, there would be nothing preventing him from destroying her and Jim. Assuming, that is, that Jim wasn’t already—

  No! She gulped. The only thing to do was buy some time.

  “Poof! Just up and vanished. What do you take me for?” Madsea asked angrily.

  “You might be rather put out if I told you,” she retorted.

  “Open that last one. I’m on to you now. The rest are decoys, aren’t they? The whole lot’s concentrated in that last one, inn’it?”

  But when Bonnie Mary pried the final chest open, it was identical inside to all the others; empty, with the same strange holes bored into the back.

  “But there must be more,” muttered Madsea desperately. “There must be.” He crouched down to peer into the shadows of the cave. “I saw something over here. What’s that?”

  Bonnie Mary took this brief lapse in his attention to heft up the chest she had just opened. In one strong, unbroken motion she swung it at Madsea’s head. But the pirate hunter saw the movement out of the tail of his eye, and just in time he managed to parry the chest with his club. The strength of the meeting between the two sent the timber of the crutch to shivering in Madsea’s hand. As the violence of the contact ran up his arm, the wooden instrument split in two and Madsea fell to the ground.

  With her enemy distracted, Bonnie Mary tried to make a break for it. She lunged toward the mouth of the cave, but once again Madsea was too fast for her. He grabbed her ankle with his hand, bringing her down, hard. He stood on top of her now, panting, the adrenaline coursing through his starved system, one foot planted securely on her chest. He dug the heel of his climbing boot into her and Bonnie Mary cringed as she felt his cleats pierce through the material of her shirt. Still, she managed to spit out what they both could plainly see: “Fetz, whatever you be wanting to believe, there’s no conspiracy here — me and Jim’s got nothing to do with this. It’s just gone.”

  She was truly frightened now, for she knew there would be nothing to stop Fetz from destroying her right there in his anger. Not to mention that whatever force had violated the chests was still out there, lurking somewhere. It was just a matter of waiting for the blow, whichever party it came from first. “Just accept it.” She sighed helplessly. “It’s gone.”

  “No.” Fetzcaro was suddenly calm. A benign, almost placid smile spread strangely over his hollow features. “No, it’s not.” His gaze had moved from Bonnie Mary and he was now staring at something at the back of the cave. Something had caught his eye.

  Straining, Bonnie Mary finally saw what he was looking at — a single gold sovereign lying on the floor, glittering in the dim light.

  “Look!” Madsea shouted gleefully. “There’s more!”

  He glanced down at Bonnie Mary, still lying under his boot, then back across the cavern. More pieces lay glittering there, a trail of bright gold against the black rock, winking seductively at him from the shadows. To go after the gold he would need to release her.

  “Here,” he said, pulling her roughly to her feet. “You walk ahead. I know that treasure’s still here. Don’t think I won’t figure out what you done with it.”

  Grateful for this sudden reprieve, Bonnie Mary stood and brushed herself off.
r />   Madsea pushed her ahead. “Move. No tricks.”

  Together they followed the little trail of coins that led to the back wall of the cave, Madsea picking them up to line his pockets with as they went along.

  “That’s it,” Bonnie Mary said flatly as they reached the back wall of the cave. “There’s nowhere else to go.”

  Except, much to Bonnie Mary’s astonishment, she saw that there was. The interior of the cave did not end in a flat back wall as she and Jim had long supposed. Instead, the floor slanted down. Madsea pushed her roughly ahead as the incline got steeper. As she walked farther, the walls began to narrow. Soon they found themselves in a tunnel, just wide enough for one person to pass through with ease. They proceeded in single file, with Bonnie Mary in front, feeling their way through the inky darkness, the walls close around them.

  The air grew hot and stale as they descended. With Madsea’s hand still pushing, Bonnie Mary forced herself to go on, knowing the weight of the mountain overhead could crush them at any moment. As the roof of the tunnel sank lower they had to walk with their heads bent, no longer able to stand erect. The air grew so stale she felt like she couldn’t breathe, the darkness around them more complete than any night she’d ever seen. And still, Madsea pushed her onward, deeper, into the bowels of the mountain.

  Occasionally, Bonnie Mary would hear the echoing call of a bird as she felt her way through the blackness. Oddly, the birds’ cries seemed much closer now, though she knew that was impossible. She wondered if she was beginning to lose her mind from the terrible pressure of the mountain above her.

  She crawled on with her eyes closed. Closed or open, it made no difference, all was dark.

  She prayed desperately. Dear Lord, please don’t let me die here, caught in a tunnel of rock, so close and cramped about me. Don’t bury me in this great black mountain. Me, who’s lived me whole life like the wind on a wave. Just let me see the green water and blue sky again, Lord. Oh, don’t let me end here. No, no, no, not here.