Order of the Black Sun Box Set 11

by Preston William Child

  “Thank you,” Sam said. “Really.”

  Sam turned back to the waiting water and walked to the edge of the boat. Everyone else on Aya's ship gathered around to watch whatever was about to happen next. Sam knew what he had to do and he was going to make sure that it was done.

  Sam took out the other two pearls and held all three pearls in his hands for the first time. The currents seemed to crash much more loudly than before, like the ocean itself was growing excited about the reunion of Poseidon's possessions and the end of Sam's journey. He had really done it; even after thinking this whole trip would just be a waste of time. All three of the pearls were real and now they were in his hands. Part of him wanted to just bring them right back to the deep vault as trophies of his victory now that they had the complete set. Some of the newer members of the Order of the Black Sun might have made that choice but Sam knew better. He didn't want that power to completely flood the compound again. He knew that in situations like this one, it was always safer to complete the task even if it meant losing something valuable. If returning the pearls was the only way that would satiate Poseidon or whatever that voice had been, then that was what needed to be done. They had plenty of other artifacts at headquarters. They could survive giving away just three—especially if it meant that they wouldn't be killed.

  Sam clasped the pearls in a fist and then held that hand out over the sea. The other pearls on the necklace hung out through his fingers but he made sure all three of the actual pearls of Poseidon were safe in his clasp. He closed his eyes and pictured the bottom of the ocean. He pictured the sand, the rocks, and the seaweed down there gently swaying in the tides. He thought of an island rising from the depths to reclaim its place on the surface. He thought about land rising and as he thought about it, the sea around them started to stir and tumble.

  The boat rocked hard but Sam ignored the worried murmurs of the people behind him. He just kept mentally commanding the sea to pull the island up from its bowels and for the sea floor to ascend, to find air once again. Sam opened his eyes and stared down into the depths, trying to see what he was trying to control. He thought of the island coming up to meet him and his desire to see the island seemed to transfer from his mind through the pearls in his hands. His desire to raise that island up from the depths was being made into reality.

  The surface of the water started to bubble, gently at first but then quickly turning much more erratic as the water rippled and slashed around, trying to make way for what was coming from down below.

  “Pull the ship back!” Aya yelled somewhere behind him.

  Sure enough, the boat seemed to be right on top of where the island would be when it got to the surface. A minute later, Sam felt the vessel start to move backward in reverse but he did his best to not let the movement distract him too much. He just kept his thoughts and his gaze on the sea. Water helped push the ship back as the force of the rising island sent the surrounding water into hysterics. Rocks erupted from the water as the island poked out, breaching through to the surface. Sam didn't want to stop until he knew the island was exposed enough to be able to explore properly. It would be no good returning the pearls if they couldn't reach the actual resting place. He needed the majority of that island not to be submerged anymore.

  Most sailors on the sea were trying to reel in much smaller catches from the water. Even the biggest creatures they could catch didn't compare to Sam's prize. The island would put every fish to shame, but then again, he was using something much more effective than a net or a fishing rod. He doubted that he could reel in an island with a fish hook but he was sure the fishermen could pull up hundreds of fish with his pearls. It was all about what kind of equipment you used and it balanced itself out in the end.

  Water splashed wildly all around them as the trembling island continued to rise from the sea until it came to a slow halt. Sam withdrew his hand and let out a long exhale.

  The pitchfork-shaped island had risen. The trident was in front of them, waiting for its pearls to be returned. It was a very small strip of land that split into three sections where one end split into three sections, just like the map had shown. This had to be the right place. He hoped it wasn't some other random piece of land that he heaved out of the ocean. That would just be a horrid waste of time and energy.

  “Look at that!” Daisy exclaimed with a large grin. “Poseidon's trident.”

  While Aya stayed back with her crew on the boat, Sam, Erica, and Daisy took a rowboat out to the shore of the trident island. They were all feeling so excited to see what was next. That rising island was like something out of a dream. Who knew what other wonders lie ahead of them. The island wasn't very large so it wouldn't take long to get the pearls back.

  “The pearls needed to be returned to the prongs of the trident,” Daisy said, as if recalling some old text she had read throughout her research. “Then Poseidon will be able to wield his weapon again.”

  Sam wasn't sure he liked the sound of that, since they would probably be that weapon's first victims if they weren't careful.

  Something caught his eye on the shore—a single large horse. That shouldn't have been possible for it to be walking on an island that just came from the bottom of the ocean. Where had the horse been when the island was submerged? How did it get there? Was it even real or just some figment of Sam's imagination after such a long journey?

  Sam blinked and that large steed vanished.

  He pushed the sight of it aside. Maybe it was really all just in his head, conjuring things that weren't really there.

  “We each take one of the proverbial blades then,” Sam said. “We get this done and we can finally put this to rest.”

  Sam realized it wasn't going to be as easy as it sounded. He saw something approaching out from the horizon—another ship. He knew in his gut who it was. It was Dajuan, on his way to finish what he started. Whatever he had done to track Aya before was obviously still in effect. Maybe there was a rat on the crew who was feeding Dajuan their location.

  They had to hurry and get the pearls back, before Dajuan came for them.

  INTERLUDE – THE WHARF MAN'S LEGACY

  The last time Dajuan had spoken to the Wharf Man, his boss told him that he had a lot of big plans for the future and he wanted Dajuan to help with them. The enormous man looked so excited to rise even higher in the world, to perhaps even spread his influence past the shores of Jamaica and expand into other lands. It was what he had always wanted. Despite being the real power on the island, the Wharf Man felt somewhat isolated and trapped. The ocean was like a barrier, not letting him press on to newer things. But now, he was going to reach out and take even more. The only thing that was standing in his way was his unsettled business with the man called David Purdue.

  Dajuan hadn't been present when the Wharf Man initially met Purdue. He wished that he had been but had been preoccupied with collecting some outstanding protection money. If he had been at the meeting, he probably would have advised his boss not to make any deals with this outsider. The Wharf Man, however, saw it as a prime opportunity to get even more finances. David Purdue was some world-renowned collector of artifacts and he just wanted the Wharf Man's help to find some pirate treasure. It seemed simple enough and the Wharf Man planned to murder Purdue and take all of the gold for himself. Unfortunately, David Purdue was smarter than he seemed and stopped the Wharf Man's men from enacting their mutiny. Dajuan had seen the Wharf Man angry before but never as angry as then. David Purdue had made off with the pirate gold, leaving the Wharf Man with nothing.

  It was soon after that the Wharf Man set off to get his vengeance. He wasn't kidding around, either. He was going to take a submarine and blow David Purdue out of the water once he got the treasure back. It was a foolhardy, reactionary plan but the Wharf Man did have a very short and explosive temper. Dajuan couldn't counsel patience or convince him to reconsider when he was like that. It would be the last time that Dajuan ever saw his boss—and soon after, he learned that the Wharf
Man was dead. He apparently died in his attempt to kill Purdue.

  The criminal underground in Jamaica immediately turned into a twister of confusion, power struggles, and upstarts trying to fill the vacuum that had been left behind in the Wharf Man's death. They didn't know that there wasn't really a vacuum; that seat of power had already been filled by Dajuan. It was what the Wharf Man had prepared him for—it just came a lot sooner than expected. Most of the criminal network fell in line and respected the change in leadership. Some of the others didn't—but Dajuan quickly made sure that they realized their mistake. It was a bloody few weeks on the island but Dajuan carved his name into Jamaica's soil, to let them all know that he was now in charge.

  But his predecessor's work had been left unfinished. If Dajuan was really going to take the Wharf Man's spot, he needed to settle all of his remaining affairs and get them in order. The one that needed to be put to rest was the one that had killed the Wharf Man—David Purdue needed to die, and all of his friends needed to die too. That was the only way Dajuan would feel he had earned his new position and could start looking to the future of the empire the Wharf Man had built.

  He recalled a conversation he had with the Wharf Man when Dajuan was nothing more than a boy on the precipice of his teenage years, a street rat with nothing to lose and everything to steal. He had tried to steal from the Wharf Man, but that hadn't gone quite as planned. It ended with that enormous whale of a man towering over him, and Dajuan thought at the time that his life was going to end very early. Instead of removing his arm or putting a bullet in his head, the Wharf Man put those plump hands of his on Dajuan's shoulders and smiled.

  “You have fire in you, boy. You know what that means? You know what that means to have a furnace in there? It means no one can touch you or they'll burn themselves unless they've got the same fire.” He tightened his grip on Dajuan's shoulders but it wasn't threatening, it was comforting. He had the same fire. “We have the same thing driving us, don't we, hmm? To everyone else though, your fire burns a little too hot. Your fire can spread real far...so far you could burn this whole island to the ground if you wanted. But unless that fire is maintained, it's going to go out. You want your fire to go out?”

  Dajuan shook his head. “No.”

  “Of course you don't, hmm?” The Wharf Man let out a bellowing cackle that reverberated through his big belly. “You want that fire to be big and bright, like the biggest fire that has ever been seen. People are going to be scared of that. They will try to dowse that flame at any chance they get, understand? But you can't let that happen, even when you're scared that you are setting the whole world alight.”

  Dajuan had spent his whole life up to that point—his whole childhood—fighting for scraps, garbage, and anything he could get his hands on. He never expected that he would ever get a chance to have more than that. But in that moment, on their first meeting, the Wharf Man had come with words that made him feel like that fire inside really did exist, that he did have a chance to be more than just some thief on the streets. He was being handed the opportunity to be so much more than he ever dreamed he could be.

  The Wharf Man was famous and, even then, every Jamaican knew to fear that name. Dajuan had feared it for a long time but now, that name was taking a much more positive place in his mind. That huge man didn't seem like he would crush him if he got too close. He seemed like he would pull him into a hug, and assure him that everything was going to be okay. The Wharf Man was a dangerous man, but he was only dangerous to his enemies. If they shared the same fire, like he said, then Dajuan didn't have to fear him. They were connected, bonded by a shared power inside. That's what the Wharf Man said, and he believed him.

  “You tired of being nothing?”

  Dajuan nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good,” the Wharf Man chuckled. “Time to be so much more then.”

  Now here Dajuan was, mourning the loss of his mentor, but having seen the Wharf Man's promise fulfilled. Dajuan wasn't just a street urchin begging for trash on the streets anymore. His fire had just grown in its size and intensity thanks to the Wharf Man's care.

  The Wharf Man's fire might have gone out—put out when he was drowned in the sea—but Dajuan shared that flame, and as long as his burned, then the Wharf Man's wasn't truly lost. He would make sure that the person responsible for ending his mentor felt the heat of that fire, and he would make sure David Purdue burned alive, and that the flames spread to anyone else he cared about.

  15

  THE HOOVES

  Once they reached the island, Sam, Erica, and Daisy each took a pearl. Sam watched as Erica and Daisy started jogging away from him, each going toward one of the “blades” at the edge of the island. Sam looked back nervously and saw that their enemies were already closing in.

  Dajuan and his men were coming toward them down the beach. The towering Jamaican man looked out of place with his fine suit in the sand but he didn't seem to care about that. His eyes were fixed on Sam, filled with contempt and determination to see him dead. It was unnerving, to say the least, but Sam knew he could defend himself. He had his pearl still, and that pearl's power had been enough to get rid of the Wharf Man. Surely it would be enough to get rid of his apprentice.

  “Did you really think you could outrun me?” Dajuan said as he drew close. “You cannot. No matter where you go, I will see to it that you die. And then I will send your body to David Purdue, one piece at a time.”

  “That sounds like a severe waste of delivery packages,” Sam called back. “You would save quite a lot of money on postage if you just sent all of me at once.”

  Dajuan at first looked flustered by the cavalier response but that confusion quickly transformed into anger. Sam wasn't that afraid, though. If Dajuan was already angry enough to brutally kill him, making him any angrier wouldn't make much of a difference.

  “But really, Dajuan, you can't just wait to go looking for Purdue? You have to keep harassing me instead? This is only going to end one way.”

  “I know it is,” Dajuan hissed. “I will make it happen.”

  “No,” Sam said. “I might not have killed the Wharf Man but I am holding the weapon that did.”

  He held up the pearl between his fingers, making sure that Dajuan could see it clearly. Dajuan stopped his approach and his eyes narrowed, examining the strange little pearl.

  “Purdue used the power that this pearl contains to drown the Wharf Man, to command the water to pull him right down to the bottom of the sea. I saw it happen and believe me, it wasn't a good way to go. Unless you turn around now, then I'm going to have to be forced to do the same to you and your friends. One thought from me and those waves can come right up here and pull you out to sea. This is your last chance.”

  Dajuan shook his head. “Empty threats. Why haven't you done it already then?”

  “Because I take no pleasure in murdering a whole group of people. I know mercy is something of a strange concept to you but I really don't want to get unnecessary blood on my hands. Just leave. Forget about this stupid vendetta of yours. The Wharf Man was a horrible human being. You must know that. He doesn't even deserve to be avenged.”

  Dajuan scowled and took a step closer. Sam held the pearl out in front of him with an outstretched arm, ready to send the ocean hurtling at his enemies if he had to. It wasn't an empty threat. He would do what Purdue did and put an end to these Jamaican crime lords if they didn't back down.

  “You are going to have to do it then,” Dajuan hissed. “Because I am going to kill you.”

  Dajuan started his march again and Sam knew it was now or never. He had to make the choice that he wished he didn't have to make—but it wasn't a choice anymore. It was either this or he died, and he had no intention of being killed by Dajuan.

  Sam tightened his grip on the pearl and closed his eyes, thinking about the waves coming up like whips and snatching his opponents away. He waited to hear the rush of water as a plume suddenly shot out like a missile from the sea...but that sound
never came. He opened his eyes and found that Dajuan and his men were still closing in. They hadn't been pulled away. The water hadn't even stirred at all. Sam looked at the pearl and then out to sea and tried again. Once more, the sea didn't obey the pearl. That wasn't possible.

  “Come on, damn it,” Sam swore under his breath.

  It was a horrible time for the pearl to decide to suddenly malfunction. Dajuan and his goons were getting too close now, almost within reach. He kept thinking about what he wanted the ocean to do and he was holding the pearl so tightly that his knuckles were white. Nothing was happening. It was like he had brought a gun that wasn't loaded with any ammunition. The weapon wasn't working. It was useless, but why?

  A horrible thought came to mind—he had the wrong pearl.

  His thoughts raced back to the moment when he had handed off the pearls to Daisy and Eric to put back in their resting places. He was so sure that he had held onto the one that commanded the ocean but clearly, that might not be the case. Somehow, during that exchange, he had accidentally given that pearl away. It was across this island, of no use to him in these precious seconds before his demise. Daisy probably had it, and had no idea that she had the weapon that he desperately needed.

  “What's wrong?” Dajuan laughed. “Your magic not working?”

  Sam's mind was racing now that the advantage he thought he had was moot. He tightened his grip on the pearl again and tried to summon an earthquake, just in case he had Erica's family's pearl but the ground didn't tremble at all. Of course he didn't have Erica's. She kept that pearl close. She wouldn't have taken the wrong one across the island. It dawned on Sam that he had an almost useless weapon in his hand—the pearl that controlled horses.