by Rob Kidd
Jack immediately pulled the cork off the top of the vial and poured the Shadow Gold into his mouth. As he swallowed, he felt the warmth and the pale gold energy flood through him once more. This time it felt even more powerful and intense than before. He felt rejuvenated, whole, healthy. He felt as if he could rise up and fly straight into the sun, which was beaming down on him as he stood on the altar.
Villanueva was sputtering in disbelief. “What—you—what did you—you drank it!” he cried. “Why would you do that? You are mad! Out of your mind. Lunatic! It was beautiful! Now it is gone!”
“Gone to a better place,” Jack said cheerily. He jumped down from the altar and bowed deeply to Villanueva. “Excellent fight. Great to see you. Let’s catch up again some other time. Or never, that would be fine as well.” He bounded over to the steps and began to jump lightly down them, two at a time. A few steps down he paused and called back to Villanueva, “Oh, by the way—working with the Spanish, Villanueva? Don’t you think that’s a bit low, even for you?”
Laughing to himself at the Spaniard’s astonished expression, Jack continued down the mountain, feeling like he had wings on his feet. This Shadow Gold was amazing! If just two vials made him feel this fantastic, he couldn’t wait to see what happened when he found the third.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The trip down the mountain was far easier and faster than the trip up. Carolina and Jean looked surprised to see Jack returning so soon.
“Wasn’t it there?” Jean asked.
“Did you have trouble?” Carolina said, sounding concerned. “Do you need someone to go back up with you?”
“Not at all,” Jack said, too full of joy and energy to be offended by their doubt in him. “I have the vial right here.” He had wrapped the empty vial carefully inside his kerchief so the shape of it was clear, but no one could tell it was empty. He held it up and waggled it at his companions.
“Well done, Captain,” the Incan priest said. “You have indeed earned the Shadow Gold, as Tia Dalma believed you would.”
“Where are we going next?” Jean asked.
“A capital question,” Jack said. “Any suggestions, mate?” He turned to the priest.
The old man ran the quipu through his fingers again. His eyes closed and he nodded, murmuring to himself. Finally he opened his eyes again and tucked the quipu inside his robes.
“This will help you,” he said, picking up his spear and handing it to Jack. “It has the power of the sun god Inti in it.”
“Oh,” Jack said, hefting the spear in his hands. It was heavy and warm and reflected the sun’s rays from its golden surface. But it didn’t seem very strong—in fact, it reminded Jack of the time his sword had turned to silver, and then gold, back in New Orleans when he was fighting the curse of an amulet. It had been very pretty but surprisingly useless.
Besides, a spear wasn’t exactly a map to the next vial of Shadow Gold, was it?
“Very nice,” he said. “Very…shiny. Thanks for that.”
The priest escorted them back to the entrance to the tunnels. “We wish you luck in your quest,” he said. His face darkened, and his eyes were full of deep sadness. “The Shadow Lord is a man much to be feared,” he said. “He will bring great evil to the Seven Seas if he is not stopped. We hope you are strong enough to do so.”
Jack shifted uncomfortably. That certainly didn’t sound like him. “Right, well, let’s cross that bridge when we come to it, shall we?” He waved the other two into the cave ahead of him. “Back to the Pearl, sailors!”
In the cool darkness of the tunnels, the spear glowed with the same light as the quipu, but stronger, so they could see the rocky ceilings above them and the jagged path beneath their feet. They followed the light once more through the maze of caves until they emerged from the side of the mountain, back in the jungle where they had started, and, judging by the position of the sun, only moments after they had left.
“Well, that worked out very well, if I do say so myself,” Jack said, brushing off his coat. “Not that it’s unusual for a plan of mine to go smoothly, except in the sense that one never actually has before. Now all we have to do is—”
“Aqui!” a voice shouted behind them. “Los piratas!”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Jack said.
They spun around to see a Spanish soldier running through the trees toward them. Quickly they turned to run in the other direction—and found a group of soldiers crashing through the bushes there.
“Right,” Jack said. “Here’s the plan. You distract them, I’ll run.”
“Yes, sir!” Carolina said, drawing a sword and leaping into an attack position.
“Where’d you get that?” Jack marveled.
“Don’t worry, I’ll defend you, Captain!” she cried.
“Good, excellent,” Jack said. “I like this plan. Simple, easy to remember.” He sprinted away with his arms flailing wildly, vanishing downhill toward the path. Jean grabbed Carolina’s arm.
“He doesn’t mean it!” Jean cried. “Well, I mean—he does, but don’t listen to him! We should all run!”
“But shouldn’t we fight?” she asked. “Shouldn’t we listen to our captain?”
“Think of it this way,” Jean said. “What would Jack himself do if someone gave him those orders?”
“Good point,” she said, and they both turned to run after Jack.
The branches whipped at their faces and arms and legs, and roots seemed to sprout out of nowhere to catch and trip them. Behind them, pistol shots rang out, and the crashing of heavy boots through the undergrowth signaled that the soldiers were giving chase.
“I’m guessing Barbossa’s plan went well,” Jean gasped. “That must be why they’re all out in the jungle looking for pirates.”
“Wonderful!” Carolina called, dodging a thick tree trunk. “Thanks very much, Barbossa!”
They broke through to the path and found Jack locked in a spirited sword fight with three soldiers who were guarding the way back to the beach. He still had the Incan spear, which he was using to fend off whichever soldiers he wasn’t presently sparring with. Jean and Carolina jumped into the fray, each taking one of the soldiers. Their swords clashed and clanged, driving the Spaniards back toward the fort. But each moment they were held there was a chance for the men behind them to catch up, and then they’d be far outnumbered.
“Quick!” Carolina shouted, grabbing one end of the spear from Jack. Holding the spear horizontally like a bar across them, they ran forward and drove the three Spaniards back until they all tripped and tumbled to the ground.
“Nice trick,” Jack said to himself. “I should remember that.”
The pirates leaped over the soldiers while they were still climbing groggily to their feet. By the time they’d figured out what had happened, Jack, Jean, and Carolina were running as fast as their feet could carry them along the path to the beach.
They burst out of the trees onto the warm white sand and saw the Black Pearl already in the water with her sails raised. Barbossa was standing on the deck arguing with Diego, Billy, and Gombo.
“Clever Barbossa!” Jack cried, racing ahead. “He knew we’d have to make a quick exit, so he’s all ready to go! I knew there was a reason I kept him around.”
Carolina narrowed her eyes. She had a hunch Barbossa had been planning to make a “quick exit” of his own—no captain required.
They dove into the water and swam up to the ship, seizing the rope ladders that Diego and Billy threw down to them, and they swarmed up onto the deck.
“Oh, hello, Jack. We, uh…heard you comin’,” Barbossa, with an insincere smile on his face, said to Jack.
Distracted by the troop of men chasing them with swords, Jack didn’t stop to question his first mate’s intentions. “Haul anchor!” he bellowed. “To the sails! All those other things! Away at top speed! Oh, and Barbossa, it’s Captain Jack.” His men leaped into action, scurrying about like madmen.
Back on the beach,
soldiers poured out of the jungle, frantically firing their muskets at the Pearl. But it was too late; the Black Pearl was already on her way out to sea, and the open horizon shone brightly ahead of the crew.
Carolina had never been so relieved. It felt like home, standing on the deck of the Pearl. Diego ran up and threw his arms around her, lifting her and spinning her around. From near the main mast, Marcella put her hands on her hips and glared at them.
“I was worried about you!” Diego said, setting Carolina down again. He thought she looked even wilder and more beautiful than she had when he’d left her a few short hours ago.
She laughed. “I think I have more reason to worry about you. You left half the Spanish army thrashing around in the jungle looking for us! Very smooth, Diego!” She punched his arm.
“Si, they’re not very pleased with us,” he said. “We may have relieved them of a few gold coins.” He flipped one into her hand, and she held it up admiringly.
“Hermosa,” she said happily. “Isn’t being a pirate fun, Diego?”
“But it’s also dangerous,” he said, lowering his voice. “I found a letter from the Shadow Lord. He sounds like a monster—Carolina, I’m not sure it’s safe to be sailing with one of the Pirate Lords, when someone so powerful hates them all so much. I would…I would hate for anything to happen to you.”
“So would I,” she said. “For instance, I would hate to marry a man I don’t love or be forced to live in a fort doing embroidery for the rest of my days. Being a pirate and fighting an evil man sounds much better than that, doesn’t it?” She squeezed his hand. “Besides, at least this way we’re together, right?”
He couldn’t help smiling. “That is true.”
“Oh, Dieeeeego,” Marcella called from across the ship. “Could you help me figure out how to work this?” She held up the spyglass and pouted.
Carolina laughed. “Your lady summons you,” she said playfully to Diego.
With a sigh, he climbed up to where Marcella was standing at the stern of the ship. They had sailed out of the cove and were speeding along the coast of South America, heading east. Black storm clouds were beginning to gather in the evening sky; it looked like it was going to be a rough night.
“I just can’t figure this thing out at all,” Marcella said, tapping Diego on the chest with the spyglass. “It’s soooo complicated.”
“Not really,” Diego said, holding it up to his eye. “You just look through here—” He broke off suddenly, staring fixedly at the sea behind them.
“Oh, through that end?” Marcella said. “My goodness, I thought it was the other end! No wonder it didn’t work! Oh, I’m so silly, that didn’t even occur to me. I wish I were as clever as you are, Diego—”
“Captain Sparrow!” Diego shouted. “Captain Sparrow, quick!”
Jack sprang up the steps beside him. “Oh, what is it, now, mate?”
Diego handed him the spyglass, although at this point they didn’t need it to see the sail in the distance, rapidly closing in on them. “I think it’s the same ship, sir,” he said. “The one that followed us from New Orleans.”
Jack frowned. He’d been sure they’d lost that ship. Who could they be? Whoever they were, they were awfully determined. Was it Villanueva? But he wouldn’t have been in New Orleans—and he couldn’t have gotten to South America as quickly as the Pearl if he’d been behind them. Perhaps it was more Spaniards searching for Carolina. Or could it be someone looking for Jack?
If only it were someone looking for Marcella. That wouldn’t be so bad, Jack reflected. Whoever it was could certainly have Marcella.
“Alex,” Jack said, “take the wheel and aim for those islands up ahead. We’ll try to lose them in there. Savvy?”
“Aye-aye, Captain Jack Sparrow,” the zombie said, going obediently to the wheel.
“And then sail away north, right, Jack?” Billy said. “That is to say, in the direction of North Carolina?”
“Billy, I hardly think this is the time for nitpicking about maps and things,” Jack said. “We’re in the middle of a high-speed chase, hadn’t you noticed?” He hurried off to give orders to the rest of his crew, and Billy Turner sighed heavily.
The wind whipped past, getting stronger with the approaching storm as the Pearl sailed up to a group of small green islands, rocky and tall enough to hide them from view, if they could get far enough ahead of the pursuing ship.
Carolina paced the deck anxiously, watching the sail behind them. What would Jack do if they ordered him to give her up? What would he do if they offered him money? She guessed he wouldn’t have a hard time choosing between her and a pile of gold coins. But she would not go back to San Augustin. No matter what she had to do.
“There!” Jack called to Alex. “Aim between those two islands that are close together—we’ll sneak around the other side while they’re still coming through the channel.”
The tall cliffs rose up on either side of them as the Pearl sailed between the two islands.
And then they noticed—there weren’t two islands.
It was one island, curved in a crescent shape around a small bay, with only the narrow channel providing an exit.
“Just kidding!” Jack called. “Go back! Back, back, back!”
But it was too late. Before they could turn around completely, the other ship was looming up in the gap behind them. They were trapped.
“Oh, very clever, Jack,” Barbossa sneered.
“Completely intentional, I assure you,” Jack responded blithely. “All part of my brilliant plan.”
“And if I might inquire, what are the other parts?” Barbossa demanded.
“I’m still working on those,” Jack admitted.
The unknown ship sailed closer and closer. It was not Villanueva’s galleon, the Centurion. It did not fly a pirate flag. Nor did it fly a Spanish flag. In fact, no banner at all fluttered from the top mast. It was an eerie, mysterious ship wreathed in the mist of the gathering storm, approaching like a faceless man in a dark alley.
The pirates all drew their swords. They manned the cannons. They stood with pistols in hand, ready to fight whoever—or whatever—was approaching them.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The other ship did not fire. It glided slowly, closer and closer, edging through the narrow gap between the cliffs and approaching the Black Pearl like a silent ghost.
“Captain Sparrow,” Diego said, peering through the spyglass again. “Look at this.”
Jack aimed the spyglass at the other ship. He saw a man with dark skin standing at the bow, waving a white flag. They wanted Parlay!
“That’s odd,” Jack said. “They chased us a long way just to have a chat.”
“I say we blow them out of the water,” Barbossa snarled.
“Of course you do,” Jack said dismissively. “Billy, wave the white flag back. Let’s hear what they have to say.”
Barbossa stomped off, grumbling, as Jack and Billy held up the white flag, signaling their agreement to meet peacefully. Jack sent Alex and the others to drop the anchor, and they waited as the other ship slowly sailed up beside them.
“Hello!” the man at the bow called. Several other men gathered by the rail beside him. They all had gleaming black skin and strong muscles. “We are looking for someone, and we believe he is aboard your ship!”
“Marcus?” said a voice behind Jack. Jack turned and saw Gombo climbing up beside him. The cook was blinking in disbelief, and a great smile began to spread across his face. “Marcus, you escaped! You all did! The gods be praised!”
“Thanks to you!” Marcus called back. “Gombo, we burned the plantation and stole his ship and came looking for you. We want you to be our captain!”
“Oh, too bad, mates,” Jack interjected. “I’m afraid he’s already got a job. As our cook. I’m sure he wouldn’t want to give that up.”
“Me?” Gombo said in surprise, ignoring Jack. “Are you sure? You want me to be captain of the Ranger?”
“We know
you’d be a better captain—and a better leader—than our former master,” Marcus responded. “You were the one who led us to freedom. You’re a hero, sir. We couldn’t serve under anyone else. That’s why we’ve been chasing you all this time. We thought we’d never catch you!”
Gombo took a deep breath. The bright whiteness of his enormous smile seemed to light up the lowering dusk. “I would be honored to be your captain,” he said, and a great cheer went up from the escaped slaves on the other ship.
“Are you sure you’d rather be a captain than stay here with us and cook that magnificent jambalaya?” Jack said wistfully.
Gombo smiled knowingly. “Thank you, Captain Sparrow,” Gombo said, taking Jack’s hand and shaking it warmly. “I won’t forget how you helped me.”
“Well, if you must go, a word of advice,” Jack said, leaning closer, with a wise expression on his face. “You can’t be a captain with a name like ‘Gombo.’ Lacks a certain dignity, if you will. Makes a fellow hungry, not terrified. Savvy?” He narrowed his eyes and nodded meaningfully.
“I will take his name,” Gombo said with steely resolve. “My former master’s. He stole my life—my name, my identity, my family. Now I will take his. No one shall remember who he was. There will be only one Gentleman Jocard…and it is I.”
Jack and the rest of his crew stood at the rail waving good-bye as Captain Jocard was rowed to his ship by his enthusiastic crew. Jack felt a pang of jealousy. He wished he had a crew that would follow him across the whole Caribbean trying to get him to be their captain. Pirates—they never knew what was good for them.
“Good riddance,” Marcella said petulantly, crossing her arms. “He didn’t even say good-bye. Pirates!”
“Remarkable,” Billy said. “Gentleman Jocard, newest pirate captain in the Caribbean.”
“Yes,” Jack said. “I’ve a feeling we’ll be seeing him again.”
