Porter shook his head. “I wish I knew what you’re talking about.”
Tom caught a glimpse of a distant spec in the twilight, a spec that grew larger and larger as it fluttered toward them. “You’ll see.”
The crimson bird darted between the columns. It circled over their heads, hissing and cawing, then released a single, glistening gold object from its talons. Tom caught it in his palm as the bird darted away.
“Saved by the bell,” he murmured.
He held it up for Porter and Willa to see. They moved closer to examine it, their faces clouded with confusion. Porter scowled and shook his head. “A jingle bell? The bell from Zaputo’s slipper? That’s your plan? That’s how we’re going to get back to the Crimson Belle?”
“No,” Tom corrected him. “Not just a jingle bell. A jingle bell with a silk thread attached to it.”
He began pulling the thread as fast as he could, drawing it toward him until it began to feel heavy. A run of fine netting was knotted to the end of the thread. He pulled yard after yard of the netting until he reached a length of slim rope. He dragged that in, hand over hand, until he reached the coarse, heavy rope that would hold their weight and carry them back to the Crimson Belle.
“Brilliant,” Willa breathed.
Tom looked at Porter. “Can you tie a knot that won’t slip loose?”
At Porter’s nod, he handed him the end of the rope. Porter secured it to a pair of heavy stone columns. “Now what? We climb down the rope to the ship? It’s too far. Even if the tower doesn’t collapse on us, our arms will give out before we get halfway there.”
Tom shook his head and lifted a slick brass cleat. It was slightly curved, highly polished and smooth, with a bulky knob at either end for gripping. He positioned it across the top of the rope line.
“Where I come from,” he said, “this is called a zip line.”
He explained how the concept worked. One end of the rope was tied to a stone column in the tower. The opposite end was tied to the main mast of the Crimson Belle. All they had to do was position the cleat over the top of the rope, grab the brass ends, and jump. Gravity would glide them down to the ship’s deck.
Tom looked at Porter. “It’s not flying, but it’s pretty close. It might just work.”
“Might?”
“Will.”
“Listen,” Willa said, going suddenly still.
Tom knew from the look on her face what he’d hear. He cocked his head and listened anyway. The low moan of scavengers echoed up from the spiral staircase. They’d found the underground entrance. He shot a glance around the room. The staircase simply opened up to the top floor. There was no door, nothing they could use to barricade themselves in—or keep the scavengers out.
A lantern flashed in the distance, Zaputo’s signal that the rope was secured on his end.
Porter looked at Tom. “I don’t suppose you could think of another way to get us back to the ship?”
“Afraid not.”
“Is it safe?”
Technically, it was. Especially if they had adequate ropes, cables, helmets, safety harnesses, elbow and knee pads, and a thick foam landing spot. But as they didn’t have any of that, Tom modified his answer slightly. “As long as you don’t let go.”
“Perfect. I think I figured out that much already.” Porter’s mouth tightened as the sound of the scavengers grew louder. Except this time the sound was coming from a different direction.
Tom leaned forward, peering over the edge of the floor. Dozens of scavengers scaled the coarse outer walls of the tower, clawing their way upward. Now the creatures were coming toward them from both inside and outside the tower. The entire tower was erupting in scavengers. They were trapped. No way to escape except the zip line—if it worked.
“Get ready,” he said. “I’ll grab the book and—”
“No. We’ll use my sword,” Mudge said, lifting the Sword of Five Kingdoms.
Like sticking a knife in an electric circuit, Tom thought. He pushed the blade away. “Try it and it’ll kill you.”
“No it won’t,” Willa said firmly. “He’s right.”
Porter shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
“Whatever’s protecting that book doesn’t know us, but it will recognize the sword,” she said. “I should have thought of that sooner. Half of the blade belonged to Pernicus, remember?”
“Just do it fast,” Tom urged.
Holding the sword aloft, Mudge stepped forward and touched the tip of the blade to the space in front of the book. An orbit of neon sparks showered the book, revealing a glowing green mist swirling around it.
He gently waved the blade back and forth, as though brushing the sparks aside. A dark hole appeared in the swirling field of green mist. Mudge thrust his fist through the hole. He grabbed the book and jerked it out. The neon sparks went black, abruptly extinguishing themselves.
Done. Tom looked at the slim black volume Mudge held. He looked at Porter, then at Willa. At Mudge. For a moment, none of them moved. Then slow, beaming smiles broke out across their faces.
“We got it,” Willa said.
“We did,” Porter agreed.
A sharp gust of wind whipped around them. The floor buckled and shook. The tower shuddered. It heaved. One granite column collapsed, then another, and another, crashing to the floor like dominoes.
“Go!” Tom shouted. “Now!”
Mudge passed the book to Tom, who tucked it into Willa’s satchel slung across his chest. Mudge moved to the edge of the tower, positioned his brass cleat over the rope, gripped the ends, and jumped.
Moving at an alarming rate, he shot down the rope and disappeared into the darkening twilight.
Tom peered into the darkness after him. He couldn’t see anything. There was no way to tell if he had made it to the ship, or been swallowed by the sea.
Willa was next. Her face pale, she stepped to the edge of the tower floor and readied her cleat. The wind whipped around her, so intense it was a struggle for her just to stand.
“Don’t look down,” Tom advised, raising his voice over the roar of the wind. “Just hold on tight and jump. The line will carry you straight to the ship.”
The scavenger’s moans grew louder. Their putrid odor drifted up the stairs. They’d almost reached the top. Willa muttered a brief prayer, closed her eyes, and leapt. She shot down the rope, disappearing as quickly as Mudge had.
The tower pitched and swayed. The western edge of the structure crumbled, raining rocks and debris down on the ground below.
Tom thrust a cleat at Porter. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”
“But—”
“Go.”
Porter looked as though he wanted to argue, but seemed to think better of it. He positioned his cleat and jumped.
The first scavenger stumbled up the staircase and staggered to the surface.
Tom sized the creature up. Enormous, male, with what appeared to be a large part of its brain oozing down its scalp. It sniffed the air like a beast locating its prey, then swung around and lunged toward him.
The scavenger hissed in excitement as his long yellowed fingernails caught Tom’s shirt.
The tower gave a final shudder. The floor split in two and gave way.
Tom wasn’t going to make it. Not now. Not with the tower crumbling into pieces, cracking and heaving and hurling itself toward the ground. Not with the scavenger tearing at his clothes.
But he had to try.
He positioned his cleat, grabbed the brass ends, and jumped.
CHAPTER TWENTY
BLACK BOOK
A vertical freefall. Tom was headed straight for the jagged rocks below. Or at least it felt that way. Then the rope seemed to catch, tensing a bit beneath his weight. He felt a slight bounce as the line straightened out, sending him shooting over the Cursed Souls Sea and carrying him directly toward the Crimson Belle.
The air exploded with a thundering rumble and the tower collapsed behind him. The rope on which he was gli
ding abruptly dipped. Tom could feel the slackening of tension on the line itself. He was dropping fast. But he was nearly there … so close …
The ship’s main mast suddenly loomed in front of him, and Tom realized there was no way for him to slow down for landing. There was no way for him to stop at all. He was about to slam face first into a thick wooden mast. He braced himself for impact, knowing there was a very strong likelihood he was about to end up looking a lot like the scavenger he just left up in the tower.
No sooner had he resigned himself to that fate when he felt a bone-jarring thud. Two of Zaputo’s crewmen tackled him as though he were a football dummy, knocking him off the zip line and sending him flying into a thick stack of canvas sails.
He lay motionless for a second, then slowly eased himself up into a sitting position. He put a hand to his head. His skull was still intact, though he had to shake his head to clear his vision. The first thing that swam into view was Willa. Then Porter and Mudge. They swayed on their feet, looking exactly how he felt—absolutely stunned to still be alive.
Before Tom could say a word to them, or even think of what he might say, Zaputo stepped before him, wearing silk pantaloons and a brightly colored vest. He stood with his feet planted firmly on the deck, his bulging biceps crossed over his broad chest, his thick gold necklace glittering in the lantern’s light. The crimson bird once again rode on his shoulder.
“You have the Black Book of Pernicus?” Zaputo demanded.
Tom nodded.
“Give it here.”
He hesitated. It had almost cost them their lives to get it, so naturally he was reluctant to simply hand it over. On the other hand, even if he resisted, Zaputo’s men would have no trouble taking it from him. With that in mind, Tom retrieved it from Willa’s satchel and passed it over.
Zaputo studied the book for a moment, weighing it in his hands. Then he looked at Tom. “This will rid our lands of the scavengers?”
“That’s what I’ve been told.”
Zaputo attempted to open the book, but no matter how much he tugged at the pages, he couldn’t pry it open.
Tom shook his head. “Keegan and Mudge must open it together. It won’t work for anyone else.”
Zaputo transferred his gaze to Mudge. “Is this true?” he demanded.
Anyone else might have trembled under the weight of Zaputo’s dark stare. Mudge merely nodded. “Yes.”
“Then I will keep it safe until we arrive.”
“Very good,” Mudge said. “You may.” With that, he gave a regal nod of dismissal.
Zaputo stood motionless for a long moment, scowling down at Mudge. Watching him, Tom couldn’t help but wonder if Zaputo saw the same chameleon-like quality in Mudge that he had noticed. And if so, he wondered what his thoughts were about Mudge’s uncanny ability to slip so effortlessly between young boy and dignified ruler.
But whatever they were, Zaputo kept them to himself. Turning to his crew, he bellowed, “Divino!” and strode toward the quarterdeck.
Willa and Porter watched him walk away. Then they sank down beside Tom on the pile of sailcloth. Mudge collapsed next to them. Exhausted, Tom leaned back and stared up at the sky, gazing at the early evening stars. Actually, exhausted wasn’t even a strong enough word for what he felt. He was so tired his bones ached.
Zaputo’s crew adjusted the sails and the Crimson Belle veered about, heading back out into the agitated waters of the Cursed Souls Sea. One of the former captives brought them water, another brought food, and still another brought blankets. Their gestures were kind, but they did nothing to shake the bleak sense of worry that settled over Tom.
The Black Book of Pernicus.
They’d finally retrieved it, so he should have relaxed. Instead, the opposite was true. Tension churned through him, setting his nerves on edge. The book was evil. He’d felt that in the brief moments he’d held it in his hands. That was the problem. They had to open it if they wanted to find a way to rid the kingdom of scavengers. But opening it would only subject them to more evil.
His thoughts spun around and around in fruitless circles, just as they’d physically circled the tower at Arx. The key, the sword, the book. There must be a solution, but it remained outside his mental grasp. Their efforts to gain the book had taken a toll. His brain was simply too foggy for him to think properly, and the rough seas through which they traveled didn’t help him focus.
His gaze fell on Mudge, who’d fallen sound asleep the moment he’d finished eating. Tom shook his head, amazed at the boy’s ability to sleep when so much was still at stake.
Finally they reached the Coral Canyon. It had been nearly impossible to cross in the bright light of day. Tom had no idea how Zaputo hoped to repeat the feat in the dead of night. Surely they would be ripped to shreds. As it turned out, however, he needn’t have worried.
Umbrey waited for them on the other side of the canyon, the Purgatory lit up like a Christmas tree. Brightly blazing lanterns hung from the masts, the beams, the crow’s nest, the stern, the port, the ship’s rail. Every inch of the vessel was aglow. The ship burned brighter than a lighthouse. A shining beacon meant to lead them safely through the Coral Canyon and back to Divino.
That was the last thing Tom saw before the exhaustion he’d been battling got the best of him. Sleep dragged him under. But it wasn’t a restful sleep. In his dreams, the image of the Zaputo’s hungry bird flashed before his eyes. Only this time he was the one being pecked apart, not some flopping fish. As he fought to escape, the howling laughter of Pernicus echoed in his ears.
Ten minutes before midnight, the Crimson Belle and the Purgatory sailed through the walled gates of Divino—the very gates Tom had leapt from only days ago, though it seemed much longer ago than that—and docked in the warehouse district. As they disembarked, Keegan’s army was there to greet them. The Watch lined the streets, dressed in their signature black capes with the glowing red eye fixed at the shoulder clasp.
Three of Keegan’s men stepped before Umbrey and Zaputo. “You will come with us,” said the largest of the group, raising his sword and holding it before his chest.
Umbrey arched a single brow. He glanced over his shoulder. “Such a pretty invitation, lads. What do you think, should we accept?”
“Yes,” replied Zaputo, his face stony.
“Yes,” said Mudge.
“Well, there you have it!” Umbrey brought his hands together in a sharp clap and rubbed them briskly. “Excellent, gentlemen. We’re all in agreement. Lead on. It’s time to finish this thing.”
They walked though the streets in pairs. Umbrey and Zaputo (with Zaputo’s crimson bird riding on his shoulder), Willa and Mudge, Tom and Porter. A few of Umbrey’s crew, along with a few of Zaputo’s men, trailed behind them.
Tom noted that while they had been away, Keegan had managed to barricade the city. A blazing ring of fire surrounded them, pushing the scavengers out of the inner district. Though he couldn’t see the creatures, there was no doubt they were there. Their distinct moans echoed through the streets and their rancid scent hung in the air.
Keegan’s men led them to the courthouse, opened the door, and ushered them inside. Keegan waited for them on the elevated stage that had once been the judge’s box. But that juror’s compartment had been removed. In its place he had installed his throne.
“My, my, my,” he purred as they entered, leaning back in his velvet seat. “You do like a dramatic entrance, don’t you?” He cocked his head and put a hand to his ear, listening as the clock in the market tower struck midnight. “Right as the bell tolls. How very stirring.”
His gaze slowly traveled over Tom, Porter, Willa, and Mudge.
“I trust you had an enjoyable journey,” he said. “How wonderful it is for young people to have the opportunity to travel. Broaden their horizons and all that. And a cruise, no less. Exciting.”
Umbrey sighed. “God, man. You do like to prattle on, don’t you?”
Moving with panther-like grace, Keegan sl
id from his throne and slowly circled Umbrey. “Umbrey. Delighted to see you back in one piece.” He paused, staring pointedly at Umbrey’s peg leg. “Oh. Forgive me. I meant to say, almost one piece.”
“You are wasting my time,” Zaputo announced.
Keegan turned. “Ah, Zaputo. My burly friend. Welcome. What brings you to our little party?”
“The Black Book of Pernicus.”
Keegan’s gaze sharpened. “You have it?”
Zaputo reached inside his vest and removed the slim black volume. He held it up. Keegan reached for it, but Zaputo drew back before he could touch it.
“My ship and crew were used to retrieve this book. Therefore you will hear my terms before you have it.”
Tom cut a questioning glance at Porter and Willa. Their expressions mirrored the same confusion and apprehension he felt. Mudge, however, merely looked curious—or rather, intently interested in hearing Zaputo’s terms.
A slow smile broke across Keegan’s face. “Ah. Well done. Exactly what I would do in your position, Zaputo. Let that be a lesson, children. Power is only effective if you aren’t afraid to use it.”
“Open this book,” Zaputo said, “and there will be no further contact between the people of Aquat and the people of Divino. Ever. We will not come to your land, you will not come to ours.”
The statement hung in the air between them. “Dictating terms, are we?” asked Keegan.
“Yes.”
“Very well.” Keegan gave a cool nod and rapped his nails together. “Here are my terms: I will take the book, and use the people of Aquat in any way that pleases me.”
“No,” countered a low, female voice, “I will take the book.” Zaputo’s fiery bird dove from its perch on his shoulder and snatched the book away. The bird soared over their heads, then allowed the volume to slip through its talons, dropping it into the hands of a dark-haired woman who had stepped quietly into the room.
Vivienne.
Beautiful, deadly, cold, and calculating. The woman who’d guarded the Lost Lake and the Sword of Five Kingdoms—and had threatened to drown them all if they failed to retrieve it.
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