Skullduggery Island
Page 1
Poptropica®
SKULLDUGGERY
ISLAND
POPTROPICA
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700,
Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada
(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland
(a division of Penguin Books Ltd)
Penguin Group (Australia), 707 Collins Street, Melbourne, Victoria 3008, Australia
(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)
Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre,
Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India
Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand
(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd)
Penguin Books, Rosebank Office Park,
181 Jan Smuts Avenue, Parktown North 2193, South Africa
Penguin China, B7 Jaiming Center, 27 East Third Ring Road North,
Chaoyang District, Beijing 100020, China
Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
© 2007–2012 Pearson Education, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Published by Poptropica, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. Printed in the U.S.A.
ISBN: 978-1-101-62093-9 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ALWAYS LEARNING PEARSON
Poptropica®
SKULLDUGGERY
ISLAND
adapted by Adrianne Ambrose
cover illustrated by Angel Rodriguez
illustrated by The Artifact Group
Poptropica
An Imprint of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Table of Contents
Chapter One: Homecoming
Chapter Two: Old Friends
Chapter Three: The Secret Letter
Chapter Four: Set Sail for Adventure
Chapter Five: Ambush
Chapter Six: Dangers of Pirate Outpost
Chapter Seven: The Riddle of Dragon Cove
Chapter Eight: A Close Call at Golden Harbor
Chapter Nine: A Fern Grows in Bouffant Bay
Chapter Ten: Dangers from the Deep
Chapter Eleven: Runaround at Parrot Port
Chapter Twelve: Return to Pirate Outpost
Chapter Thirteen: The Missing Piece
Chapter Fourteen: X Marks the Spot
Chapter Fifteen: The Final Showdown
Chapter Sixteen: Celebration
Astro-Knights Island
Chapter One
Homecoming
“Ahoy there, mateys,” Owen Christopher said as he peered through a spyglass toward the port town of Fort Ridley. In the distance, he could barely make out the buildings of his hometown through the thick black clouds that filled the sky.
It had been months since he had signed on as cabin boy of the zeppelin Aurora, and Owen was feeling a bit homesick. Seeing that they were scheduled to pass by his home of Fort Ridley, he had put in for shore leave—or, more accurately, land leave, as the Aurora spent all its time soaring through the skies.
“Are you sure you want this time off?” Captain Arthur McCrea asked. “Fort Ridley looks to be a bit…” McCrea hunted for the right words. “Down at the boot heels.”
Owen leaned over the side of the bow as the airship approached the edge of the black clouds. “That’s smoke,” he said. “I thought there was a storm brewing.”
“Smells like gunpowder to me,” McCrea added. “Someone’s been firing off cannons.”
“I can’t see anyone down there,” Owen said. “And it doesn’t look like there are any ships in port. I wonder what happened to the navy.”
Captain McCrea pointed farther out into the harbor. “There’s one ship down there. And she’s flying the Jolly Roger.”
“Pirates?” Owen asked. “There haven’t been pirates in Fort Ridley since before I was born. Quick, let’s get to the port. I have to find out what’s going on.”
“I can’t take the Aurora through that smoke cloud,” McCrea said. “We’re not getting anywhere near that port.”
“But, sir,” Owen pleaded. “That’s my home. I have to get down there.”
McCrea puffed out his chest and placed his hands on the ship’s iron railing. After a moment he shook his head and let out a small sigh.
“Okay,” the captain relented. “I can make a quick pass over the pier, but we can’t stick around. Once you’re out, you’re out.”
“I understand,” Owen replied. He was anxious to get down to Fort Ridley.
“There’s just one more thing,” McCrea added. “And you’re probably not going to like it…”
McCrea was right, Owen thought as he shinnied down a long stretch of rope and into the dark black smoke cloud. I don’t like this one bit. He could hear the wind whipping past him as the Aurora made its descent into the skies above Fort Ridley. The zeppelin would only be able to stay in the cloud for a few moments, so Owen had to be ready to let go of the end of the rope and jump off as soon as they were over the piers.
Owen held his breath to avoid inhaling the soot from the cloud as he lowered himself down, one hand after another. He couldn’t make out the docks or even the end of the rope.
“All right, son,” McCrea called out from above. “It’s now or never.”
Below him, Owen saw only darkness mixed with the occasional swirl of grayish light. He tried to focus on something. Anything. For a brief moment, he thought he saw the wooden planks of the pier below his feet. Knowing this was his only chance, he let go of the rope.
Owen fell through the darkness for all of two seconds before his feet smacked against the pier, and he tumbled to the ground. Safely under the smoke cloud, Owen took a deep breath and stood up. Solid ground at last.
As he made his way down the pier and into the port, Owen couldn’t help but be shocked at the state of the buildings. When he’d left, Fort Ridley had been booming. The market had been overflowing with freshly caught fish and exotic produce brought in from other islands. There were people everywhere, and kids played in the streets.
“Hey, you,” a gruff voice called out. “You know you’re not supposed to be in the port. It’s too dangerous.”
“What do you mean?” Owen asked the rough-looking soldier standing guard. “Where is everybody? And what’s with the smoke? Has there been a fire?”
The soldier gave Owen a surprised look. “Are you new to these parts?” he asked.
“Not really,” Owen told him. “I grew up here, but I’ve been away.”
“What’s your name?” the soldier inquired.
“Owen Christopher,” was the reply.
“Well, Owen Christopher, the governor has told people to stay in their homes and avoid the port…at least until that blackheart Captain Crawfish is taken care of.”
“Is Captain
Crawfish that pirate who’s anchored out in the harbor?” Owen asked. “Where’s the navy? Why haven’t they stopped him?”
“They tried,” the soldier said. “We all did. But that pirate sank all our ships and sent cannonballs through most of the port. The navy’s all but gone, and there’s only a few of us soldiers left to protect the town. Look, kid, you better get home to your family. It isn’t safe around here.”
Owen thanked the soldier for the information and headed away from the port and into town. But before he left, he thought he’d check out that pirate ship. He made his way to the signal tower, where he knew he could get a full view of the harbor. As he made his way to the top, he was surprised to see an old sailor sitting there.
“Ahoy,” Owen said. “I didn’t think I’d find anyone up here.”
“Just keeping watch,” the old salt replied. “The same as always. Not that there’s much need these days. I’m pretty much all that’s left of the navy.”
“Where did that pirate come from?” Owen asked.
“No one knows. He just showed up one night and started blasting holes in all the ships. Most of the navy was at the bottom of the harbor before we could ring the alarm. We tried holding him off, but without Captain Christopher to lead us, we never stood a chance.”
Owen’s heart sank. Captain Christopher was his father and the former commander of the local navy. Right after Owen left on the Aurora, his father quit the navy and took Owen’s mother as far away from Fort Ridley as he could.
Grabbing the telescope mounted at the top of the tower, Owen pointed it toward the water. Squinting into the lens, he scanned the horizon until he found what he was looking for: a large menacing ship with tall sails and a flag with the skull and crossbones at the top of its center mast.
Chapter Two
Old Friends
Back on the ground, Owen headed farther into Fort Ridley, looking for friends or at least familiar faces. From what he could tell, the rest of town looked just as bad as the docks. Many of the buildings had been knocked to the ground, and those that still stood had shattered windows and holes in their roofs. It seemed like most people had abandoned Fort Ridley.
Just then Owen heard yelling coming from down the road. He ran toward the commotion. As he approached the general store he saw two scruffy-looking pirates, carrying bags of feed over their shoulders, sprint out the door and down a side alley.
“If I ever get my hands on you, you rapscallions,” an older woman yelled as she lumbered out the door of the store, waving a broom over her head, “I’ll make you sorry you ever stepped foot in my store!”
As Owen ran up to the general store, he could see the empty shelves. Gone were the foodstuffs and bolts of fine fabric. The shelves and racks and display cases were empty—there was nothing to buy. No books, no spices, no swords—nothing.
The old shopkeeper sat down on the front steps. Her face lit up slightly when she saw Owen coming toward her. “Owen, am I glad to see your face. I sure hope you brought your father with you. That horrible Captain Crawfish has stolen everything we had. And he’s blocked new goods from coming into port.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Gilworth,” Owen said. “I’m on my own. I haven’t talked to my father in almost six months. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. They won’t be back. There’s nothing left to take. That’s too bad about your father, though. No one’s been able to stop these attacks,” the shopkeeper added. “And unless someone finds a way to bring merchants back to our port, we’ll starve.”
Owen sat with Mrs. Gilworth for a while and tried to convince her that everything was going to be all right—although he hardly believed it himself.
After leaving the general store, Owen headed farther into town. Eventually he came upon a bridge spanning a narrow waterway. At the far end stood a girl looking over the side, staring deep into the water.
“Hi, Matilda,” he said, walking up to her.
“Owen,” she said, a bit surprised. “Hi. I didn’t know you were back in town.”
“I just got here,” he said. “I can’t believe the state of things.”
“I know. It’s a huge mess. The town’s barely holding on.”
“I’m surprised to see you out here,” Owen added. “This is hardly the place for the governor’s daughter. I assumed he’d have you locked up in his mansion.”
Matilda blushed. “As far as he knows I’m still under lock and key. I’ve been sneaking out of that house since we were little kids.”
“I remember,” Owen said. A slight smile crept across his face. It was the first time he’d smiled since coming home. “So, what does your father plan on doing about this pirate?”
“I don’t know for certain. My father and old Captain MacCullen are hatching some kind of plan. He won’t tell me too much about it because he’s afraid I’ll run off to join the fight.”
“You always were the best sailor at school. Even better than me,” Owen admitted.
“My father says that becoming a sailor is no life for a lady.” She wrinkled her nose. “He wants me to become governor after he retires.”
“Then we better make sure that there’s still a town for you to govern.”
“Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight?” Matilda suggested. “We still have a little food. I’m sure my father will be happy to see you. He’s looking for all the able men he can find. Just don’t tell him you saw me running about town.”
“You have my word,” he told her. “But I need to go home first. If there’s anything left of it.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. Those pirates have taken everything that they could carry and destroyed the rest.”
Owen nodded. “Even so, I feel that I need to see it.”
Owen headed off toward his family home. It was an old house not too far off the main street. The Christophers had lived there for as far back as anyone in town could remember. As a little boy, Owen was told stories of Captain Nathaniel Christopher, who had commanded the first ship that settled Fort Ridley. Back then, the waters were filled with all kinds of giant sea monsters and pirates ten times worse than Captain Crawfish, according to family legend.
Owen was always told that he’d grow up to become a captain like all the Christopher men. But he never wanted that. He always had his eyes fixed on the sky and not the sea. And when the chance came for him to join the Aurora, he jumped at it.
His father retired from the navy not long afterward. Owen’s mother confessed in a letter that his heart wasn’t in it after Owen broke the family tradition. That’s when his parents set off on a trip around the world. It felt horrible to disappoint his father, but Owen also knew that he had to pursue what he wanted from life.
As Owen looked at the remains of his family home—smashed windows, broken doors, and empty drawers and cupboards—he couldn’t help but wonder: If he’d stayed and joined the navy, would his father have been able to stop Captain Crawfish? Was this all his fault?
Owen pushed through the debris and made his way over to an old bookcase, its contents scattered across the floor. He let out a relieved sigh as he reached up and pressed a secret latch hidden above the top shelf. The pirates didn’t find it, he said to himself. The bookcase swung back and revealed a small room full of naval gear.
This secret room had been built in the early days of Fort Ridley as a safe room to protect the Christopher family from invading pirates and marauders. Years later, it had been turned into a museum of sorts. Generations of naval uniforms, swords, maps, captains’ hats, telescopes, and other nautical gear filled the room from floor to ceiling.
Most important, though, was the Christopher cutlass. The sword was a gift from Governor Thaddeus Ridley, the founder of Fort Ridley, to Nathaniel Christopher upon his appointment as captain of the official navy. It was a beautiful cutlass with an intricately engraved blade and a hilt wrapped in sharkskin. The blade had Owen’s great-great-grandfather’s name and the Christopher crest engraved in curling script on one side a
nd a portion of an ornate compass with ships, islands, and longitudinal lines on the other. Every Christopher in succession had carried this sword with them off to sea—except Owen.
Pleased that the room had been untouched, Owen closed the door, leaving his family’s treasures in place. He straightened his clothes and tried to tame his wild hair. He wanted to look his best for dinner with the governor.
Chapter Three
The Secret Letter
Owen headed toward the center of town. The governor’s mansion sat atop a small but steep hill that overlooked all of Fort Ridley. The hilltop was the site of the original Fort Ridley—a small protected compound that housed the eighty-seven original settlers. They found the highest and most secure location to build their town. Over the years, the town had spread both to the water’s edge and off into the countryside.
A monument to Governor Thaddeus Ridley sat just to the north of the mansion. Owen stood in front of it and looked out to see the sun setting on Fort Ridley. Despite all the chaos and destruction, the golden beams of light dancing across the town’s silhouetted buildings was still one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen.
The mansion itself was in serious need of repair, with large cracks in the walls and a few broken windows that had been boarded over. Owen climbed the steps of the front porch and knocked on the door. After a moment he heard the sound of several heavy locks releasing, and the door swung open. A slight man with thick, glossy hair and fine-looking clothes greeted him.
“Owen Christopher to see the governor,” Owen said, trying to sound as grown-up as he could.
From inside the mansion, Owen heard a voice call out, “We’re in the office.”
Owen followed the slight man inside. In the center of what Owen assumed was the office, he saw two men examining a piece of very old paper.
“Owen, my boy, so good to see you,” Governor Roland said, looking up. He had gray stubble sprouting from his cheeks and was wearing a tricorne hat. “How’s the air service been treating you?”