by Rob Kidd
“I’m all right,” Diego said. “I’m used to much worse. Back home in Spain, when I was a boy working in your father’s palace, I slept on cold stone floors and worked in the stables through the winter in only a thin jacket.” It was your smile and your eyes and thoughts of you that kept me warm, he thought but did not say.
“I’m sorry I told them about being a princess,” Carolina said. “I know you didn’t want me to. Now I will have to work twice as hard to convince them I really want to be a pirate—and that I’m strong enough for it.”
“I think that much is obvious,” Diego said.
“Really?” Carolina asked hopefully, looking up at him. The basket of the crow’s nest was small, so they had to stand close together. Diego could feel his heart pounding. “I’m not like that horrible Marcella girl, right, Diego?” Carolina asked.
“Not at all,” he said quickly. “If you want to be a pirate, I know you will be a great one.”
“I do want to be a pirate,” Carolina said, her gaze dropping to the white-topped waves below. It was a gray and windy day, now shifting imperceptibly into dusk. The sea was the color of a gray whale, and bursts of spray flew up against the side of the ship. The mast was swaying more than usual, and Carolina could see that Diego was already feeling a little seasick.
She squinted at the horizon behind them. Suddenly she clutched Diego’s arm, and he nearly toppled out of the crow’s nest in surprise.
“Diego,” she said urgently, “is that a sail? Way over there—do you think it’s another ship coming this way?”
He rubbed his eyes and peered into the distance. Carolina was right. There was another ship out there.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” he reassured her. “It could be going in any direction. It’ll probably disappear in a short while.”
“What if it’s following us?” Carolina whispered, leaning against him with a worried frown. “What if…what if it’s my family still looking for me?”
“Then we’ll fight them off,” Diego said, feeling brave enough to touch her face with his fingers. “We won’t let them have you. But don’t worry yet. It’s probably nothing.”
She rested her head on his arm, and he took one of her hands in both of his. They watched the sail in the distance for a long, long while. By the time they climbed back down to the deck, they were both sure.
Someone was following the Pearl.
CHAPTER TEN
“Nothing to worry about,” Jack declared.
Carolina and Diego exchanged glances. “But what if it’s the Spanish? What if they’re coming for me?” Carolina asked.
“Then we’ll give you to them and carry on our merry way,” Jack said. Billy kicked him surreptitiously. “I mean, um—that’s not going to happen. Nobody can catch the Black Pearl, love. It’s the fastest ship in the world!”
“That’s true,” Diego said to Carolina. “This is the safest place we could possibly be.”
“Not when the Shadow Lord finds us,” Alex said gloomily.
Diego and Carolina looked at him askance and edged away. Jack tried not to show that he’d been thinking the same thing. He had no idea what kind of ship the Shadow Lord might have. But surely whatever it was couldn’t outrun the Pearl. Right?
Maybe it was only a pack of Spaniards, or Villanueva. If he just kept moving, there was nothing to fear from them. And they’d stay close to the coast, as they were doing now, so they could make very quick forays for water or anything they needed.
“We’ll keep a weather eye on the horizon, just in case,” he said.
Marcella stamped up the stairs onto the deck. “EW!” she declared loudly. “Something smells like BURNING! That is SO GROSS! It had better not be dinner! I’m not eating anything burnt! I want fish, and I want it as raw as possible!” She wrinkled her nose. “Somebody get rid of that horrible smell right now!”
“What in blazes is she on about?” Jack asked Jean. “I thought we’d all adjusted to Alex by now. No offense, mate,” he added to the zombie, who just stared at him blankly.
Jean shrugged, baffled. “Marcella has a remarkably strong sense of smell,” he said. “Maybe it’s something we just haven’t noticed yet.”
“Or maybe it’s something we have noticed, and it’s that your cousin is a loony brat,” Jack suggested. “Quite frankly, every Magliore I’ve met thus far, with the notable exception of you, mate, has been a bit…well…let’s just say, are you sure you’re not the bait-man’s son?”
“Whoever is burning dinner, throw it overboard THIS MINUTE!” Marcella bellowed.
“That is the worst smell I have ever—”
“I am the captain on this ship,” Jack reminded her, “which is why I get the cabin and I give the orders around here. Savvy?”
Gombo stuck his head out of the galley, looking offended. “Nobody’s burning any dinner!” he said crossly. “I am making the best jambalaya any of you has ever tasted. None of which will be served to anyone who accuses me of ruining food!”
“Jambalaya?” Jean echoed with a dreamy expression.
Diego suddenly lifted his hand to his nose. “Oh,” he said. “Captain Jack—I think I’m beginning to smell it, too.”
Gombo drew himself up to his enormous full height. “No jambalaya for you, either!” he said ferociously.
“No, no,” Diego said. “It’s not your cooking, I’m sure of it. It’s something farther away.” He pointed to the land off to starboard. “Something over there, I’m guessing.”
Alex let out a low moan and pressed his hands to his face with an unpleasant squishing sound. “The Shadow Army,” he groaned. “The Shadow Army has been here.”
The rest of the pirates fell silent as the strange smell reached all their noses. It was as Marcella had described it: a charred, sickly, smoky smell that permeated their lungs instantly. They all felt as if they would never be free of it again.
Then they saw the ruins.
The fort’s tall, thick walls now lay in scattered piles of stone, as if giants had kicked them in, then brutally crushed the rest of the town beneath their feet. Blackened shells of houses were visible inside the town, where fire and the Shadow Army had ravaged every inch and left nothing alive. Worst of all, along the beach lay strange, bloodstained lumps that nobody recognized as corpses until Carolina let out a small gasp, covering her mouth.
Diego moved instantly to block her view, but she stepped back and nodded at Marcella. “Too late. Don’t let her see,” she whispered.
Obediently, Diego went over and took Marcella’s arm, steering her away from the horrifying sight. Jean’s cousin looked too overwhelmed to understand what she was looking at. She let Diego lead her to the port side, where there was nothing to see but the comfortingly empty sea. Diego offered her his handkerchief, and she pressed it to her face, taking shallow breaths.
“Something evil happened here,” Gombo said in his deep, solemn voice. “I have seen many evil things, but this…it reeks of the Other World.”
“I think you might be right about that,” Jack said.
“The Shadow Army,” Alex moaned again, refusing to look. “The Shadow Lord. He did enough evil here, long ago, with his army of men. But this is much worse, so much worse.”
Even Barbossa had nothing sarcastic to say. He pulled his hat down further and turned the wheel, taking them far away from the scene of devastation and death as fast as they could sail. The rest of the pirates returned silently to their chores. Their captain stood alone, contemplating the handiwork of his new enemy.
Something tugged at Jack’s coat.
He jumped, turning quickly to see nothing but shadows disappearing into more shadows along the length of the deck as night descended on them. Once again, he felt a cold weight stealing into his chest. The Shadow Gold was wearing off already, or perhaps being near the Shadow Army’s aftereffects sucked away some of the gold’s power.
He needed to find the second vial. And fast.
“All right, men,” Jack said.
“And, uh, you,” he added to Carolina. He dropped the quipu on the large round table in his cabin. It was the next morning, and the sun shone brightly through his windows, but it couldn’t chase away the nightmares that had plagued him all night. It was time to get to the bottom of things. “What is this wretched thingie and what does it do?”
Diego, Carolina, Billy, and Barbossa all leaned in to study it. The knotted string lay on the table in an innocent, unreadable tangle. Carolina reached out and poked it. Like any string, it did not react.
“Looks like string, sir,” she said with a straight face. “With knots in it.”
“Thank you for your brilliant observations,” Jack said. “What does it do, and how will it help me find the Shadow Gold?”
Diego picked it up and rubbed the knots between his finger and thumb. “Maybe you have to do something to it,” he suggested. “Like get it wet?”
Jack picked up a pitcher from the table and promptly poured water all over the quipu. Upon reflection, he realized he probably should have moved the maps and everything first. Billy and Diego scrambled to mop up and save the parchments as Jack lifted the quipu again and squinted at it.
“Ah, yes,” he said knowingly. “Now it looks like wet string.” He gave Carolina a sardonic look. “With knots in it.”
“Perhaps you have to wear it,” Carolina offered.
“Or eat it,” Barbossa said. “Or, I know, use it to strangle yourself with.” The others looked at him, and he made an innocent face. “What? I thought we were brainstorming.”
Jack took off his beloved hat and gingerly put the quipu on his head, on top of the red bandanna he always wore. Water dripped down into his ears. And judging from the way Diego and Carolina were smothering giggles, he looked perfectly ridiculous.
“You must be supernatural,” he said to the quipu, taking it off and shaking it in his hand. “Why would a mystic give me a bunch of string? Not that Tia Dalma is always the most lucid dame, but surely it has to do something.”
A piercing shriek came from the other side of the cabin door, followed by a few loud crashes, some shouts, and finally, an ominous splash.
Jack looked at Barbossa. Barbossa looked at Jack. They both looked at Billy.
“I’ll just go check on that,” Billy said. But before he got to the door, it opened. Jean leaped in and slammed it shut behind him.
“Nothing. Don’t worry,” he said quickly, pressing his back to the door. “It’s all under control.”
“Let me guess,” Jack said, pressing his hands together and pointing them at Jean. “Our darling Marcella has had another tantrum.”
Jean winced. “Gombo asked her to swab the deck. He said she could at least contribute to things around here if she was going to eat so much of the food he cooks.”
Carolina hid a grin. “Unfortunate phrasing,” she pointed out.
“You have no idea,” Jean said. “So there was a bit of a quarrel, but it’s all right now.”
Jack sat up straight. “She didn’t throw Gombo overboard, did she?” he asked. “I won’t be pleased if she did. We’d only turn around for a cook that good and my hat!” Seeing Billy’s expression, he added, “Oh, and for you, too, mate. Absolutely.” He winked at Barbossa, who only frowned in reply. “No, no,” Jean said. “Not Gombo. Only…the swabbing mop and bucket.”
“Hmm,” Jack said. “Delightful.”
“Hey,” Jean said, suddenly spotting what they’d been looking at. “What are you doing with a quipu?” He walked over to the table and picked up the discarded string. “And why is it all wet?”
“Never mind that,” Jack said. “You know what this is?”
“Of course,” Jean said. “It’s for sending messages. The pattern of knots spells out the message, so it can be carried back and forth without being read, because only a few people know how. I heard the Mayans talking about them when I was in Tumen’s village. Of course, the Mayans think their alphabet is far superior.”
“Superior to what?” Jack asked.
“Don’t you know?” Jean said. “The people who use quipus. The Incas.”
“Ah, yes,” Jack said, furrowing his brow and looking knowledgeable. “The Incas.”
“Who are the Incas?” Billy asked.
“Oh, come now. Everybody knows the Incas, mate,” Jack said. “Go on, Jean, tell him.”
“They live in the mountains of South America,” Jean said. “They used to be very powerful, before the Spanish came.”
Jack nodded sagely. “Obviously. Well, that clears things up.” He stood up, grinning. “The Incas have my Shadow Gold. And I’m going to get it back!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Black Pearl sailed along the dark green coast of South America as Jack held up his map and tried to figure out where they were. Up in the crow’s nest, Diego and Carolina searched with the spyglass for the ship that had been following them, but it looked like they’d managed to lose it.
“Regular maps,” Jack muttered, squinting at the charts. “Very confusing. A cartographic conspiracy, say I. Give me a treasure map any day.”
“The Incas live here, in the Andes, mostly in Peru,” Jean said, leaning over his shoulder, turning the map right side up, and tapping a section of the continent.
“Well, how are we supposed to get there?” Jack asked, turning the map upside down again. “By sailing all the way to the bottom and up the other side? That’s absurd.” He peered at the thin shape of Panama. “You know, somebody should build a canal here,” he said, pointing at it. “That would speed things up nicely.”
Barbossa snorted. “Oh, yes. I’m sure someone will get right on that,” he said.
“I guess we could leave the ship up north and get there over land,” Jean said dubiously.
“Capital!” Jack said. “Let’s do that! Barbossa, find a place to hide the ship.”
Grumbling, Barbossa swung the ship closer to shore. Soon they found an inlet that led to a sheltered cove, surrounded by swaying palm trees and thick jungle. White sandy beaches curved around them in a welcoming crescent of warm sand. It was easy to sail the ship right up into the shallow water. Jack’s crew jumped out and began to haul the Pearl up on the sand.
“All right,” Jack said, surveying his options with a doubtful expression. “Barbossa, Diego, Gombo, Jean, you’re with me. Billy, you stay and guard the ship with the others.”
“What about me?” Carolina said. “I want to help.”
“And I don’t want to be left alone with a bunch of smelly pirates,” Marcella said, stamping her foot. She sidled over and wrapped herself around Diego’s arm. “I want to go with Diego.”
Diego was more than a little alarmed by this turn of events. Why, oh, why couldn’t it be Carolina who couldn’t bear to be parted from him?
“No, no, no, absolutely not,” Jack said.
Marcella looked furious, took a deep breath, and opened her mouth to scream. “All right, shut it,” Jack said quickly. “Fine. Just don’t blame me if you both get eaten by panthers.”
Marcella opened and closed her mouth several times, but didn’t seem to have anything to say to this.
Carolina just smiled.
They climbed over the rail and splashed through the water up to the beach. Diego edged away from Marcella and studied the sand curiously. He walked up the beach to the high tide mark as the others caught up.
“What is it, Diego?” Carolina asked.
“Yes, what is it, Diego?” Marcella said instantly, crowding Carolina aside.
Diego held out his hand, keeping her back. “Wait, don’t walk here yet,” he said. “Captain Sparrow, come look. I think someone has been here before us.” He pointed to some indentations in the sand. “The tide has nearly washed them away, but I think there were footprints here, coming up the beach. Meaning another ship—and whoever it was must have gone into the jungle.” He glanced around. “Maybe over there; it looks like there could be a path.”
“If they’re not Incas, I’m not interested,
” Jack said. He glanced around at the thick mass of foliage pressing in around the beach. “Well, perhaps a path would be useful.”
It was, in fact, a path, although it looked like it was meant to be hidden from the beach by a screen of woven palm fronds. When they pushed through, they could see signs that someone—more likely several people—had come through with machetes or something similar and carved a definite route through the undergrowth.
“I don’t like this,” Gombo said darkly. “It might be of the Other World. Where could it lead? Would we want to meet whoever might be at the end of it? No, I fear we have more enemies than friends out there. I say we stay away from the path.”
“That’s stupid!” Marcella objected. “It’s so much easier to take the path. We’ll never get anywhere climbing through all this leafy stuff!”
“And surely whoever was here has gone,” Diego said, “since there is no boat in the cove waiting for them.”
“Thank you for agreeing with me, Diego,” Marcella said, batting her eyelashes at him.
Carolina hid a smile as Diego turned red.
“I take your point, Gombo, mate,” Jack said, “but I’m afraid that we are in rather a hurry, so the fastest route is, ipso facto, ergo sum, e pluribus something or other, the best route. And maybe it leads to the Incas.” He took out the quipu and shook it. Nothing. Ah, well. He put it back in his pocket and set out down the path, drawing his sword in case they did run into any nasties.
Gombo offered to scout ahead, and they all watched him silently run off along the path on bare feet.
“How are you feeling, Jack?” Barbossa asked solicitously. “Ill? Slightly unwell? Horribly unwell? Close to death? How close to death?”
“I’m quite all right,” Jack insisted, trying not to jump every time he saw a shadow moving beside him.
It was odd to be on land again after days on the ship; the ground seemed to wobble below them, and the sounds of the jungle were very different from the sounds of the sea. Instead of rushing waves and seagulls, their ears were full of the noise of parrots squawking, monkeys howling, and insects chirping and buzzing all around them.
