As dawn nears, the walking becomes easier. The space between the trees and shrubs widens. Suddenly the woods open up, and we are on the beach. I look around in surprise. “We have walked in circles!” I shout, cupping my hand to my mouth so that he can hear me above the roar of the wind and the crashing of waves onto the shore.
“Nay, lad,” Peep says. “We have crossed through the woods to the other side of the island. There’s nothing beyond but sea.”
Wiping the rain from my eyes, I see a rocky overhang stretching from the woods into the water. It is the cliff I saw from the ship when we first came, I think, surprised that I had forgotten it until that moment.
Solitaire Peep hands me the leather satchel and wades into the water, his thin body leaning forward against the wind. The water is just below his waist when he reaches the cliff. He grabs a handful of the vines that hang from the rock. With a dozen or so quick swipes, he thins them out. He wipes away the rain streaming down his face and beckons me into the surf. “Bring me the satchel, boy, and keep your hands wrapped tight around it!”
I hold the satchel above my head and wade out to Peep. He snatches it from me and holds it safely above the water. With the other hand, he grabs the vines he has left hanging and pulls them to the side.
My eyes grow wide when I see the narrow opening gouged into the cliff’s side. “A secret cave,” I whisper.
“Aye, ’Tis that,” Solitaire Peep says smugly. “And only two people know it exists: me and the Captain. Not even Queen Anne …” He stops and his good eye begins to twitch. He turns so quickly that he almost knocks me over. Grabbing my collar, he yanks me close. “Breathe a word of this to another living soul, and you’ll rue the day you were born,” Peep says. “The Captain will cut out your wagging tongue and use it for a hair ribbon. Get my meaning, boy?”
I push him away. His breath smells of the clams Cook served for the evening meal. “Get your hands off me,” I say. “I gave the Captain my word that I wouldn’t tell what happens on this night.”
Peep lets his hands fall to his side. “Let’s step quick then,” he says. “The others will grow suspicious if they wake before we return.” Grabbing the satchel, he turns sideways and squeezes through the gap. A shiver runs down my back as I follow him into the cave.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The light from Solitaire Peep’s lantern flickers suddenly. He stops and shields it with his hand. “Stay still for a minute, boy,” he whispers, looking around as if he is trying to decide which way to go.
My eyes adjust gradually to the darkness. It is humid inside the cave and the moldy smell makes it difficult to breathe. I sneeze twice, startled when the sound echoes back to me. A sudden flapping of wings overhead makes me gasp and duck. I press my hand against the wall to steady myself, and I feel slime beneath my palm. Wiping my hand against my breeches, I follow Peep’s lead and step around a small pool of water. Whatever we are here for must be done quickly, so we can leave this foul place.
Peep moves cautiously, his hand cupped around the mouth of the lantern. I know he is being careful not to risk our only source of light. I follow silently behind, the shovel gripped tightly in my hands. Every few steps, Solitaire Peep stops and listens; I listen too, but all I hear is water dripping down the cave’s walls and the flight of winged creatures I cannot see.
The ground twists and turns with some passages so narrow that we must press against the wall to pass through. After walking for a while, we approach an incline where the floor seems to tilt upward. The passage widens, and we come to a large space; two stone ledges protrude from the side of each wall, as if the middle above our heads had been cut away. Solitaire Peep stops and looks around. His patch gleams in the darkness. “We’ll work here,” he says. Reaching up, he drops the satchel onto the widest of the two ledges, Turning to me, he jerks his thumb toward the ledge. “Hoist yourself up and be quick!”
Tossing the spade onto the ledge, I clutch the ledge with both hands and pull myself up halfway until the slab presses against my stomach. Peep grabs my ankles and boosts me over the edge. He hands the lantern up to me, and I place it against the wall where it won’t get knocked over. Then I stand and brush the dirt from my hands onto my breeches. Peep pulls himself up beside me. His nostrils twitch as the smell of clay and mold fills them. “Take a sniff, boy,” he says. “Smells like the earth itself. ’Tis the perfect spot.” He looks around, studying the area, as if he has lost something, and then points to the base of the back wall. “Get to work. Dig a deep spot there.”
I open my mouth to ask why, and then think better of it. If I ask, Solitaire Peep will simply tell me my nose is too long. Besides, the sooner we finish what we have to do, the sooner we can return. Dropping to my knees, I jam the spade into the crevice between the floor and wall. The dirt is hard as stone, and it takes all my strength to chip away the smallest amount.
Soon, I’ve dug out a small crevice. Peep holds the satchel against it. When he sees that the hole is still too small, he begins to rant. “Dig faster, you lazy good-for-nothing!” His tone is harsh, and when I stop to rest, he gives me a hard kick in the legs to spur me on.
I lift my head and snap, “I can work faster if you do not cripple me.”
I try to hurry, but the wind surges through the cave. Every now and then, I hear a noise that makes me stop digging and wonder about the source. Could a tree have snapped from the force of the wind? Or has lightning struck one of the tall oaks in the woods? There is no way to see out, but I can tell the storm is a bad one.
I look up and shiver. Dampness has eased into my bones and they ache. The lantern’s light throws shadows upon the sweating walls. I dig harder, anxious to leave.
Finally, I wipe my hands on my muddy breeches and stand. “There, I’ve done a good job of it.”
Solitaire Peep snorts. “Don’t be getting ahead of yourself. Time will tell what kind of job you did.” He kneels and sticks his hand inside the hole. Satisfied it is deep enough, he grabs the leather satchel, holding it up for me to see. “’Tis England’s future inside this leather, lad,” he says. “Maps of a New World. Pray God these walls keep them safe.”
I draw a deep breath, remembering the Captain’s words. For weeks I have sketched what I thought to be maps intended to lead England’s ships to new ports. Instead, I have drawn territories that could be seized in Queen Anne’s name to give England a stronghold in the New World. If the satchel falls into enemy hands, France or Spain will rule the New World.
Solitaire Peep shoves me aside. He covers the satchel with loose dirt and fills the hole. Using the water running down the side of the wall, he smoothes the edges until there is no sign the wall has been altered. He brushes his hand over the wet clay. “Should dry within the hour, boy,” he whispers. “The old blending with the new. And only you, me, and the Captain will ever be the wiser.”
I squat beside Solitaire Peep and run my fingertips along the wall. Wasn’t it just like Peep to take all the credit? He’s right, though. No one will ever know. “Aye,” I say. “We can sail for one year or for ten. Time matters not, for it will await our return.”
Solitaire Peep doesn’t answer. His face grows tight and his eye begins to twitch. “Did you hear that?” he asks.
I listen for a moment but hear nothing unusual. “It’s only the wind blowing,” I say.
Peep waits a few moments and then nods. “You could be right. Just me nerves, that’s all.”
“Best we start back,” I say. I jump down from the ledge. Peep passes the lantern carefully down to me.
“Hold up, boy,” Peep says, dropping down beside me. “We won’t get far with the storm outside. What say we rest here for a while before starting back?”
“Won’t the Captain expect us back soon?” I ask, anxious to leave the cave.
“If we leave now, the sea will try to snatch you up,” he says. I don’t want to be toting you on my back because the waves are covering your head.” He drops the shovel at his feet. “We’ll wai
t a bit until the winds ease.”
As if the matter is settled, he sits down on the floor and leans his head back against the wall.
Sighing, I place the lantern on the ledge and sit beside him. Arguing with Peep is pointless.
Though the wind shrieks loudly outside the cave, Peep dozes off quickly. Closing my eyes, I try to drown out the sounds of the storm so that I can rest too. My arms hurt from burying the satchel, and yesterday I worked hard rigging sails to the new mast.
I drift off into an uneasy sleep. I dream I am standing by the ship’s railing scooping up buckets of water. I cannot work fast enough. Black water pours over the ship’s sides and swirls around my legs. It rises to my knees and then to my waist. I bail faster: up and over, up and over, but still the water grows deeper, until it reaches my neck. I open my mouth to scream and the sea pours in.
I awake choking. Water covers the floor. I give Peep a hard shake. “Get up!”
He jerks awake and looks around. He pats the floor around him, and then licks his palm. “’Tis salt,” he says, his eye growing wide. “’Tis the sea, boy. The sea has come to us!”
I shake my head, trying to remain calm. “It’s just a little flooding because of the storm,” I say. “Come on. We’ll go back the way we came. Look, the water’s only at our knees. If we hurry, there’s time.”
I grab the lantern from the ledge and turn back toward the cave’s entrance. The water is heavy against my legs, but I keep moving. When it has risen to my waist, I raise the lantern above my head. Peep splashes along beside me, his bony legs struggling against the rushing water.
Soon, the water is almost at my chest. I try to move forward, but the force of it pushes me back. “Move closer to the wall and edge ahead!” I yell to Peep. “Don’t try to walk in the middle!”
“Hold the lantern my way, boy!” he croaks. “I cain’t see!”
I grip the lantern tighter as we move through a narrow section. Behind me, Peep walks close behind, tugging on my shirt so that he is close to the light. The cave twists and turns, and after several minutes, I stop to get my bearings. I hold the light high in front of me to try and gauge the direction we must go. In the flickering light, I see that the cave splits not too far ahead. I turn my head to tell Peep that we are almost at the entrance, when a roaring fills the cave. Peep pushes me, urging me to keep moving, but I hesitate, unsure of this noise that is suddenly all around me. As I move forward, a wall of water rushes from one side of the cave. I shout a warning to Peep and press against the wall to try and get out of its path, but it’s too late. The water crashes into me, tearing the lantern from my hand. I lunge for it, but the rushing water carries it away.. Horrified, I watch as the lantern disappears. Peep’s fingers claw at my arm. I reach out and grab him, trying to hold on to him, but the current is too strong and too fast, and he is ripped away. Within seconds, he is gone. I can see nothing now except a swirling mass of black seawater as it roars past me.
“Peep!” I scream.
But he doesn’t answer. A deep darkness fills the cave. I cling to the wall, calling out for him again and again, but the sound of water churning past me and the echo of my own words are all that I hear.
I turn back to go after him, bracing myself against the wall so that I can stay on my feet. I move deeper into the cave, screaming out Peep’s name. Perhaps he is just around a turn, waiting to yell at me for losing the lantern. I can go only a few feet before I am forced to turn back. The water is almost at my shoulders. I push on in the darkness, one hand against the wall, and the other an oar that I use to push the water from me. With every step, I call out, hoping Peep is behind me, but all I hear is the sound of rushing water.
After a while, the water rushing past me slows, and the sounds inside the cave begin to change. I am still yelling for Peep when I hear someone call my name. I think I am imagining it, for the voice comes from in front of me. I stop moving and press against the cave wall, peering into the darkness. Then, a gash of light falls over me, and I see the vine-covered gouge in the wall Peep and I climbed through. Forcing himself through the narrow gap is the Captain.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Two days after the storm, we pull anchor and sail from Crossed Island beneath calm winds. I stay up on deck until we round the bend and the cliff comes into view. Looking quickly away, I whisper a prayer that Peep will rest in peace.
The first day at sea is hectic as the crew adjusts to life back onboard. I keep busy and turn my mind from what happened in the cave. But when night falls, the thoughts jumble together inside my head and I cannot sleep. I close my eyes, and once again I am pressed against the cave’s wall, feeling Peep’s hands on my arm. The Captain says I am not responsible for his death, but his words sound hollow, for I am here and Peep is not. Sometimes, I forget that he is gone. In the morning I awake and hear a voice overhead. For a moment, I think it is Peep calling out orders. Then I remember.
News of Peep’s death shocked the crew. The Captain did not tell them the truth, only that Peep had taken me to the other side of the island to seek the goat and piglets so that we might bring them onboard ship. There, he said, Peep was swept into the surf by a raging tide. It was a weak lie that no one believed. Gunther’s scowl said as much, though he wouldn’t dare question the Captain. When we were alone, Cook asked me if Peep had suffered. I said nothing, for I did not want to remember.
Crossed Island suffered greatly from the storm’s wrath. Trees were felled on both sides of the island, and dunes flattened into the sand. Had the Captain not come to the cave in search of us, it is unlikely I would have been able to trace my steps back to the other side, for the path Peep and I took no longer existed.
The ship seems quieter now, and the storage room no longer feels the same without the animals. I like to think they are safe on Crossed Island. At night, when sleep won’t come, I imagine the goat, my first friend onboard ship, nibbling the tall grass that grows between the charred oaks, and the pigs rolling about as they sun themselves on the white sandy beach.
On our fourth night at sea, the Captain and Cook come down to inventory the food stores. Earlier at supper, the grumblings of the crew grew loud when Cook ladled the watery soup into their trenchers. We have no more than a week’s worth of flour left, and so little meat that Cook stews it now for broth, as there is not enough to serve for meals. The fish we salted is gone and Cook’s net contains nothing these days save for seaweed and shells and, if we are lucky, a few crab claws. He claims the fish that sought refuge from the storm deep in the ocean are taking their time coming to the surface again. The Captain says the storage room will be filled soon, for a letter of credit bearing Queen Anne’s signature is registered in Charles Towne. He will purchase supplies as soon as we dock.
A surprise greets me when I go up on deck on our sixth day at sea, for we have arrived at the mouth of Charles Towne’s harbor. Though for months I have dreamed of returning home, I feel sick in my stomach when I see the steeple atop the meeting house.
At the Captain’s orders, Jabbart hoists the Queen’s standards. We are noticed immediately. Within the hour, two merchants send messages by longboat offering their goods for sale and asking what goods we have brought. I hide near the bow and stay out of sight. Last night, I thought to protest when the Captain said I must stay below deck once the ship drops anchor. Who would see me now and think of the boy who ran away? My hair falls past my shoulders, and I stand tall even in bare feet. But the memory of Charles Towne’s jail lingers still, and so I do as I am told and conceal myself without complaint.
Across the deck, Ferdie tosses aside the sail he has spent two days mending and strides toward me. He shoves me hard on the arm. “So, you’re back home,” he says. “Are you standing here planning how to sneak off the ship?”
I shrug. I have no plans to sneak anywhere, but it is my business to know that, not his.
Spitting into the water, Ferdie says, “Best not let Gunther see you wasting time. I heard him tell you to mend the fi
sh nets.”
“Reknotting the nets is your duty” I reply, glancing over at the till, where Gunther stands. With Peep gone, Gunther has taken over the job of steering the ship and passing out assignments each morning. So far, the Captain hasn’t interfered, though I wish he would. I am sick of Gunther’s commands. I raise my voice. “You should do your own work and stop pushing it off on others.”
Grinning, Ferdie yells over to Gunther, “The lad says you can mend the nets yourself since you do little else.”
Gunther doesn’t look at me. Another ship has entered his view and his eyes are upon it. Over his shoulder, he says, “You’ve wasted the morning, boy. Knot the nets before supper or you’ll go hungry.”
Lifting my chin, I say, “I’ll eat as I do every night. What right have you to lord it over me or anyone else?”
Scowling, he swats at a fly that buzzes near his head. “Old One-Eye is dead, thanks to the devil’s luck you brought upon this ship. From hereon, I’ll carry out his duties. Best watch your tongue if you desire to keep it in your head.”
I swallow hard, but when I speak my voice is calm. “It is not my fault Solitaire Peep drowned, but I have no need to explain that to you. You have no right to assume his position as second-in-command.”
I can feel the eyes of the crew on me. A few oarsmen mumble in agreement, but a fierce glance from Gunther silences them. I can see that they believe Gunther to be in charge. I clear my throat and say loudly, “If you truly were second-in-command, you would know that the nets are mended by Ferdie. Peep would not have forgotten such a simple thing.”
Gunther hands the tiller off to Jabbart. I know he is coming for me, but I stand my ground. With three long strides he is upon me. He grabs me by my hair and yanks me so close that his mouth brushes my ear. “I’ve stood silent whilst you brought bad luck to this ship. Had the Captain heeded my warning, we would not have lost the mast in battle and Peep would not have drowned. Do not close your eyes tonight, brat, or it will be the last time that you do.”
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