by James Raney
Percival splashed down into the river. When he rose again to resume his tear to the ocean, the Brothers Ratt and Lacey joined in Jim’s whooping, crowing, and calling, heads held back and fists raised in the air.
“Jim!” cried George, shaking his head and splashing water from his long, dark locks. “How exactly did you come by your own sea monster, mate? It’s the most brilliant thing ever!”
“Yeah, Jim, that was fairly mad,” added Paul, smiling in the sunlight and nodding his head like a wide-eyed chipmunk. “Can’t be sure cause of all the water, of course, but I’m pretty sure Peter just peed himself.”
“I did NOT, Paul!”
“All of you, look,” cried Lacey. She pointed with great urgency out toward the eastern edge of the island, to the horizon. “Look at the sun. It’s almost up!” When Jim and the Ratts followed Lacey’s gaze, the bright yellow disc was indeed nearly two-thirds risen over the sea. But Percival, still roaring with joy, put Lacey’s fears to rest.
“Have no fear, milads and milady. Percival the Mighty shall not fail you! We will break through the Devil’s Horns with yet a quarter of the sun to spare.” Jim breathed a sigh of relief and patted the water dragon on the spine. But there was one more surprise when a sputtering, coughing squawk erupted from Lacey’s arms.
“I say, I say!” cawed Cornelius Darkfeather, coming to, for he had been passed out since his injuries in the cave. “I was only resting my eyes. There was no need to douse me, sweet Lacey, I’m awake, I’m awake!”
“Oh, Cornelius!” Lacey shouted, hugging the raven close to her chest. “I was so worried we were going to lose you. And we didn’t splash you, we just swam through a waterfall, that’s all.”
“Swam through a waterfall?” said Cornelius, black eyes darting about in utter confusion. “Where are we? Back on the Spectre? Have you five managed to confiscate a ship of some sort?”
“Actually,” said George, grinning obnoxiously. “We’re just ridin’ on the back of a giant sea serpent if you must know.”
“Riding on a sea serpent?” cawed Cornelius. The raven took such a start that he nearly fell from Lacey’s arms. But after looking about and finding George’s description true, the bird had but one thing to say. “Well, I do believe that this is a first.” Jim and the Ratts burst into laughter and Lacey kissed Cornelius on the top of his head.
“Look at that!” said Peter, pointing with his free hand to the green field rushing beside them. Through the trees and over the rolling hills, a swarm of lights flitted and danced like a flock of glowing birds, racing to keep pace with the furiously swimming water dragon.
“It’s the faeries,” cried Jim, waving wildly. The flitting lights in the great pack blinked and bobbed, waving back as they flew.
“Faeries?” asked Lacey. George then began to babble, nearly incoherently, about everything that had happened to him and Jim since they were separated by the owls at the dark forest. While George was yammering, mostly focused on how he had carried Jim with one arm for what was now ten miles while fighting off the giant owls all by himself, Cornelius squawked urgently to Jim.
“And the shell, my boy? For all we have suffered and bled, have we at least come away with the shell?” Jim answered with only a smile. He gave Cornelius a peek at the shell, glowing bright from between the folds of his drenched coat.
“What about your hand, Jim?” asked Lacey, trying to block out George, Peter, and Paul, who were now proclaiming themselves the greatest adventurers of all time. “What happened to your hand? How did you get rid of the poison?” Jim tucked the shell back beneath his arm and showed his open palm and wrist. His new white rose scar shone in the morning light. Lacey reached out to touch Jim’s hand. A hint of sadness lingered in her eyes, but a smile lit her face.
“It’s good to have you back, Jim,” she said, her auburn curls flying back from her face in the wind.
“Thanks,” said Jim. “Glad to be back.”
“Hold on tight one last time, friends of Jim Morgan!” Percival bellowed over the roar of the water. “The ocean approaches. And just beyond the shore, the Devil’s Horns, and home!”
“Percival!” Jim shouted. He suddenly remembered that though the adventure on the island was nearly behind him, danger still lurked through the magic gates ahead. “When we cross back into our world, you should probably know that there’s a battle going on. I think you might just surprise two boatfuls of pirates in the middle of it all.”
“Fear not, lad,” said Percival. “Must I remind you again that I am an ancient water dragon of the deep? I have no fear of pirates or battles or dangers, in this world or any world. Now on we go!”
The beach came up quickly, and the ocean a moment after. As Percival reached the Devil’s Horns, Jim took one last glance at the rising sun and found it three-quarters of the way over the horizon. But when Jim blinked, it seemed to him as though a great candle in the sky had been blown out. What had been a bright yellow, rising sun, suddenly became one blood red, setting beneath the sea. What had been a warm morning breeze turned into a cold evening wind. On the back of that wind carried the sounds of pistols and swords and shouting men. Jim and his friends had rejoined the battle upon the sea.
EIGHTEEN
he fighting raged across the decks. The green-hulled Spectre sat knifed into the Sea Spider’s flank. A mist of pistol smoke hovered over the ships. Cutlasses and knives glimmered like lightning flashes within the gray cloud. Beyond the touch of the setting red sun, both sky and sea were growing black. In the deepening dusk, Jim saw that Dread Steele and his men were hopelessly outnumbered. The Corsair pirates were gaining the upper hand. They would soon have victory within their grasp. Jim leaned on one of Percival’s foremost spines, stepping so far forward he nearly stood on the sea serpent’s scaly brow, and shouted over the din of the battle
“Percival, the green ship and all her men are with us. It looks like they’re in a spot of trouble!”
“Well then, my new friend,” growled Percival. “Let us announce your arrival and turn the tide!” Percival surged forth. He twisted and turned around the jagged rocks until he spiraled up along the Spectre’s starboard side. He raised his great head over the railing, teeth bared.
There was a sudden, startled silence at the sight of the monster. The battle came to stunned pause - until screams and shouts of terror broke the quiet. The Corsairs and Dread Steele’s men split apart like oil and water. Each crew fell back into the frightened clutches of their mates. All swords, pikes, and pistols were now held toward Percival, as though such weapons offered any protection at all from the strength of a water dragon. Percival turned his molten gold eyes upon the Corsairs. He let his long teeth glisten blood red in the dying sunlight. He then roared with such force at the Sea Spider’s men that they fell over backwards or dropped to their knees. At once they threw down their weapons and covered their faces with their arms in fear for their lives. From atop the sea serpent’s head, Jim and the Brothers Ratt shook their fists at the fallen Corsairs, hopelessly trying to match Percival roar for roar.
When Percival stopped rumbling, a more lasting hush fell over the ships. The shaken Corsairs held up their hands, as if surrender might stop the sea monster from tearing them to bits. With the enemy humbled, Percival lowered his head to the deck. Down jumped the Clan of the Ratt. They were absolutely covered from top to bottom in dirt and grime. Holes and tears split the tattered remains of what had been, only a few days ago, their nicest clothes. MacGuffy burst through the ranks of pirates, a cutlass and rapier held one in each hand. His thin white hair stuck in all directions, mussed and matted from the heat of battle.
“Jim! Lacey dear! Even ye sea Ratts! How in the devil…and…and what manner of malevolent beastie is that which ye have brought along?” Giant Mufwalme, Murdoch, and Wang-Chi all stood dumbstruck beside the old salt, their weapons held tremulously toward the unexpected monster.
“Have no fear, old MacGuffy,” assured George. He strutted forward beside his brothers
with his thumbs stuck through two holes in his shirt as though they were suspenders. “Percival there in’t malleable at all!”
“That’s malevolent, Georgie,” said Peter, still supporting Paul under one arm.
“Exactly what I said, Peter,” said George. He nodded smartly at MacGuffy and then tossed his head back toward Percival. The water dragon still hovered over the deck, poised to strike at the cowering Corsairs. “He’s a bit of a personal of friend of ours, you see. I was even considerin’ inductin’ ‘im into the Clan of the Ratt, as an official member.”
“Oh you were?” said Lacey with a roll of her eyes.
“Yeah we were,” said George, looking to his brothers. “Weren’t we boys?”
“I dunno, Georgie. ” Paul looked back and forth between his older brother and the scaly beast behind them. “I mean, he’s fairly handy in a pinch, I’ll give him that. But somethin’ tells me sneakin’ about and pickin’ pockets might come as a struggle.”
“What are ye sayin’, ye blasted sea mice?” MacGuffy finally snapped, waving his swords about excitedly. “That ye rode that beastie here? And from where exactly did ye pups acquire this new friend?”
“It’s sort of a long story, MacGuffy,” said Jim. He stepped forward with his bundle held tightly in his arms and a rascal’s grin splitting his face. “But maybe for now I might just skip to this.”
Jim pulled aside the folds of his ruined coat.
The pirates gathered about. They murmured and whistled and made oaths to the sea and the sky when Jim produced the shell. Even MacGuffy, who had seen more treasure and magic than most in his long life, took a step back, growling some unintelligible curse.
Dread Steele himself braced at the sight of the gleaming shell. He stepped quickly through the ranks of his men to cover it again with Jim’s coat, some whispered incantation on his lips. But before the Captain could fully conceal the talisman, one last ray of fading daylight struck the shell’s polished surface. The shell thrummed to life in Jim’s hands. A violet glow swam over the smooth surface, until it coiled up and leapt into the sky. The pulse of magic streaked through the darkening air and disappeared far away into the night. The pirates of the Spectre fell back from the shell. Even from a distance, the Corsairs murmured amongst themselves, whimpering and moaning of magic and ancient curses.
“Beware, Jim Morgan,” Percival warned. “Like me, the shell has not tasted the air of this world for many years. And like me, it is not entirely tame, nor entirely safe.”
“Your scaled ally speaks true, Jim,” Steele said, casting a wary glance in Percival’s direction as he finally managed to cover the shell completely. A shadow passed over the pirate lord’s face. Jim could hear concern at the edges of Steele’s voice. “Keep the shell hidden for now, Jim. Magic draws magic. We must beware the attention of such forces.” Jim hardly knew what to make of such dire tidings, but he caught Steele’s eyes glanced skyward, as though some dark power might be lurking just overhead.
“And what became o’ those curs, the Cromiers and Splitbeard, I wonder?” MacGuffy asked, spitting on the deck. Jim looked back at the Devil’s Horns. The rocks were quiet and still, and the setting sun was about to wink out of existence below the horizon.
“I think we may have seen the last of them, MacGuffy,” he said. “If you stay too long on the island, you turn to stone forever. And their time is nearly over.” Jim’s own words caught him by surprise as he considered what they might mean. The men who had taken everything from him, his father, his fortune, his home, they were gone - gone forever.
“You faced the Cromiers and Splitbeard upon the Veiled Isle?” Steele asked, raising a curious eyebrow.
“Oh, they was there, Cap’n,” George chimed in. “Had us at the end of our ropes too if Jim and Percival hadn’t come bustin’ in at the last moment…well, between them and the giant owls…and the faeries…”
“And possibly being turned to stone,” Lacey said.
“And the harpies!” Peter and Paul added together. The corners of Dread Steele’s mouth finally twitched and pulled into a half grin on his dark and dangerous face. He looked down on Cornelius, his gray eyes laughing.
“Have you nothing to add, old friend, of such goings on? This seems a tale to rival even your own, exaggerated stories from the days of your youth.” At this, Cornelius cleared his throat and would have flapped up into the air, full of indignation, if his wings were strong enough to do so.
“I hardly exaggerate, Captain. But this time, I have the scars to prove the tale true!”
“The scars will be worth it if we can at last have some peace,” Jim said. He glanced down at his palm before looking up once more to the horizon. The last lip of the sun clung to the edge of the sea, a final finger of light losing its grip on the world.
“As long as I am able, I shall accompany you to the end of this journey, Jim. We may yet see more storms and bear more scars, but we shall also see the sun rise again on a happier day.” The Captain put a hand on Jim’s shoulder and let the smile linger on his face.
“Steele and Morgan, together again?” Jim asked.
“Morgan and Steele, to the end,” Steele agreed. For one brief moment Jim saw an easier road stretched out before him. But that daydream was shattered by a piercing scream.
“Look!” Mufwalme bellowed in his deep voice, his eyes wide and staring at the Devil’s Horns.
From the Devil’s Horns, just as the last crescent of burning sun fell beneath the waves, a trio of great owls burst from the gate in a flash of green magic. The leader screeched a battle cry as he arched into the air, leading his flock over the head of Percival the water dragon. Percival roared in rage. Atop two of the owls sat Count Cromier and Bartholomew, hateful glares in their eyes. Jim felt the malicious eyes of the villains fall upon him alone.
The owls circled low. The Count and Bartholomew leapt down from their mounts, swords drawn. They beckoned their pirate thugs back to their feet. The winged hunters circled once over the decks and came to rest atop the Spectre’s masts, taunting the water dragon below. But the third owl landed at Count Cromier’s side. A pale-yellow light burned amongst its feathers. The giant owl shrank and twisted into the form of a man, smiling darkly as he stood in the dim light of evening.
Splitbeard the Pirate, sorcerer of the seas, had returned.
“I don’t believe it!” Jim sputtered.
“He controlled the owls when he took us, Jim,” said, Lacey, shrinking back into the small huddle of friends. “But I never thought he could become one!”
Splitbeard laughed with delight at Lacey’s revulsion.
“It is said upon the seas that Dread Steele is Lord of the Pirates, a master of the arcane arts. But it is I, Splitbeard of the Corsairs, who has plunged deepest into the depths of the black arts. I cannot be so easily undone.”
“You have something that belongs to me, Morgan!” Count Cromier cried, mad rage swimming in his eyes. “Fifteen years have I searched and waited – fifteen years since your father took from me what was mine. I shall have it, boy, even if it costs me everything. Even if I must bathe in blood to take it back. The Treasure shall be mine again!”
Bartholomew screamed then, beckoning the Corsairs behind him with his naked blade. “Charge!”
The battle before the Devil’s Horns began again.
Dread Steele and his men rushed into the fray, clashing with the Cromiers in the center of the Spectre’s deck. Jim and his friends fled to the safety of the quarterdeck. They watched as the remaining owls launched themselves into the sky to attack Percival with outstretched talons. Percival fought back, but the crafty owls flitted just beyond the reach of his snapping jaws.
Jim gaped at the battle before him. Pirates, sea monsters, and great owls were locked in combat. Who could believe such a thing that had not seen it with his own eyes? He was sure that nothing could surpass such madness on the Spectre, until he looked back over the ocean, where the last of the evening light was fading away.
&n
bsp; A shadow darker than night moved across the sky. It crawled through the air with purpose, a stalking animal hunting its prey. At the first flash of lightning Jim’s heart dropped into his stomach. His arms and legs went weak. A storm was coming. But this was no ordinary storm. The clouds churned pitch black, but the edges glowed blood red.
The Crimson Storm from Jim’s nightmares had come.
NINETEEN
he first drops of rain fell hard on the Spectre’s deck. They splashed on the railings and spattered Jim and his friends. Whipping winds, monstrous waves, and thunder followed. The storm’s fury quickly drowned out the sounds of the pirate battle. Jim huddled close together with Lacey and the Ratts, their backs pressed against the aft railing.
“Of all things,” George growled. He pulling his ragged coat tightly around his shoulders and threw the sky a nasty glare. “A storm on top of this fight.”
“The storm didn’t come out of nowhere, George,” Jim said, shouting now so that his friends could hear him over the thunder and fighting. “It came here on purpose. I think it came because of the shell.” Jim nodded down to the bundle in his arms. He squeezed it to his chest as though afraid the storm might reach down with a hand of lightning and snatch it from his grasp.
“Storms don’t decide to go anywhere, Jim,” Lacey cried over the rain, her auburn hair dripping wet and slicked to the sides of her face.
“Magic storms, do,” Jim said. He looked down at Cornelius, who was still cradled in Lacey’s arms. “Don’t they, Cornelius?”
“I’m afraid they do, my boy. They do indeed.”
