Any guilt she’d felt about lying to her father that morning had long since disappeared. He might have seen through her anyway, when she’d refused to get out of bed, claiming that she had a splitting headache.
Josephine had helped, too, although unknowingly. She’d stood by Scarlet’s bed that morning, pressing her hand against Scarlet’s forehead. “She can’t go with us today, Uncle John,” she’d concluded. “She looks terrible.”
Scarlet nodded, although she hadn’t thought she looked that bad. “You go on and visit that Right Honorable What’s-his-name without me. And his Right Honorable rose gardens.” She coughed for effect.
The admiral narrowed his eyes at her, but he didn’t argue. He might still have been feeling bad about the conversation with Humphries the night before.
Josephine ushered him out, closing the door softly behind them and leaving Scarlet triumphantly punching the air in the darkness. She waited until they’d breakfasted and left to visit that Right Honorable Whoever-he-was, then hopped out of bed, flung open the door, and danced a jig right there in her nightgown.
“A morning to myself!” she sang. “No embroidery, no visiting, no cutlery! And NO DRESSES!”
The last few hours had been jolly indeed. No one chastised her for tromping through mud puddles. No one frowned when she snagged her sleeve on a wire fence and ripped a hole right through it. In fact, no one looked at her at all now that she looked like every other sailor in port. And that suited her just fine. She had work to do.
“I heard he recruited the Blood Brothers, Blair and Blake,” a cabin boy told her when she asked him about Lucas.
“Hmm.” Scarlet pursed her lips. The Blood Brothers were best known—and feared—for their back-to-back sword-fighting skills. “Anything else?”
The boy shook his head. “Maybe some of them know.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the docks, where half a dozen pirates were gathered, deep in conversation.
Scarlet let the boy go with a nod of thanks. She sauntered toward the pirates and stationed herself within eavesdropping distance.
“Ye don’t say!” one of them exclaimed.
“That wee plant can do all that?”
“If ingested correctly, yes,” said a familiar voice. “Now, I highly recommend you take it with food, and always at the same time of day. Check back with me in three days time, and I’ll—”
“Uncle Finn!” Scarlet exclaimed. She’d know his posh Old World accent anywhere.
She waited impatiently while the pirates snatched up their plant samples and dispersed, leaving Uncle Finn and Thomas standing on the docks, looking pleased. It took every drop of Scarlet’s willpower not to run over and hug them. Instead, she sauntered over, hands in her pockets, trying not to grin too widely.
“Scarlet!” Thomas exclaimed when he saw her. “Er… I mean, cabin boy I’ve never seen before.” He gave her an exaggerated wink.
Uncle Finn shook his head at his assistant, then greeted Scarlet with a warm handshake. “How are you, dear?” he whispered.
“Surviving,” she replied. “How’s the crew? Has there been any trouble with Lucas? Or the panther?”
“No sign of either,” Uncle Finn reported, and she relaxed. “We’re just here for a few days, testing our samples on some pirates.”
“That’s good,” she said. “But how did you get here? Did Tim bring you?” She couldn’t believe her quartermaster hadn’t stopped by to say hello.
“No,” Uncle Finn said. “We came by ourselves.”
“In the Hop?” she asked, and they nodded. “Tim let you take the Hop without him?”
“Not exactly…” Thomas began.
“The crew agreed that we should go to port,” Uncle Finn said.
“You took it without telling them?” Scarlet cried.
“No,” Uncle Finn huffed. “They all insisted we go to port. I was surprised, too, but I wasn’t about to argue.”
Scarlet raised an eyebrow. She highly doubted that her crew would have let the explorers take the Hop, leaving them shipless on Island X. But before she could ask any more questions, something even more odd caught her attention.
It was an old man hobbling by, bent over a cane. At least, she thought it was an old man, but she couldn’t say for sure, since he was dressed head to toe in a black cloak, not unlike the ones the Lost Souls used to wear on ship raids. She’d never seen anyone like this in port before.
“Excuse me, will you?” she said, and the explorers waved her off, turning once again to their plant samples.
She followed the old man off the docks and across the road, falling in line a safe distance behind him. There was something very strange about him. She studied him closely until it came to her—he kept changing the way he limped, almost as if he kept forgetting which foot he’d hurt.
If he’s a lame old man, then I’m a proper lady, thought Scarlet.
It came as no surprise that his destination was none other than Voodoo Miranda’s house. Scarlet followed him right up to the front porch, then hid behind an abandoned barrel while he rapped at the door.
The door squeaked open, and Miranda peered out, this time with a boa constrictor draped around her neck.
Seeing the voodoo queen, the man took a quick step back, dropping his cane.
“Wait a minute…,” Scarlet murmured. Would a friend of Miranda’s be so surprised by her pet snake?
Voodoo Miranda gave her visitor a once-over, then stroked the snake’s head. “Captain Wallace,” she said, sounding a bit bored. “Why the costume?”
Scarlet gasped. The Dread Pirate Captain Wallace Hammerstein-Jones! She stretched her neck to get a better view.
Captain Wallace straightened and raised a finger to his lips. “Shh,” he said. “I need your help.”
“Obviously,” said Miranda. Then she sighed. “All right, come in. But mind the boa. He hasn’t eaten in a week, and he’s a little peckish.”
Captain Wallace gulped and darted past the snake. Miranda closed the door behind him.
“Blimey!” Scarlet cried, standing up. “What’s that all about?” Then she remembered the little window in Miranda’s kitchen. If she could find it, maybe she could figure out what the flotsam was going on.
She zipped around the side of the house and pressed herself flat up against the wall. The first window she shuffled past looked into a room she hadn’t seen before—one filled with animals that had once been alive but were now stuffed and frozen in strange positions. A smelly wild pig stared down an iguana. An enormous brown monkey raised its arms as if trying to scare off a predator.
Scarlet shuddered and moved on.
The next window looked into a room that was nearly empty except for a table, a chair, and a tall candlestick. And… Scarlet squinted hard… a wax figurine lying flat on the table, pins sticking out of its stomach. She shuddered again. That must have hurt.
Finally, she found the cloudy little window that looked into the kitchen. And as luck would have it, it was open. Just a crack, but enough for her to catch their conversation.
“Biscuit?” Miranda offered Captain Wallace a plate of gray lumps that looked vaguely like the cookies she’d offered Scarlet days before.
The captain took off his hood, revealing a still-sunburned face and a greasy mop of hair. “Don’t mind if I do.” He reached for one and popped it in his mouth. “So.”
“So.” Miranda unwound the boa from her neck and set it down on the counter.
Captain Wallace scraped his chair a few inches away. “I need your help,” he said.
“So you said. Revenge?”
The captain nodded. “How did you know?”
Miranda waved her hand. “Everyone wants revenge. Also, you look a little desperate.”
“Oh, I am,” said the captain. “You have no idea.”
“Mm-hm.” Miranda broke a biscuit in half and nibbled at it. “Let me guess. Lucas Lawrence.”
Captain Wallace nodded. “That… that… biscuit-eater.”
“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean… These are actually very good biscuits. What kind did you say they were?”
“I didn’t,” said Miranda. “They’re beetle biscuits.”
The captain turned pale. “Beetle?” He peered down at the black flecks in the biscuits, which from Scarlet’s vantage point looked like raisins. Her stomach pitched.
“Right, well, what do you have in mind?” asked the voodoo queen. “Stomachache? Kidney stones? Bunions? Bunions are always good.”
The captain shook his head. “I want more. That boy shamed me in front of everyone. I want to make him pay.”
Scarlet shivered.
Miranda looked at Captain Wallace for a moment, then tapped her purple lips with a finger. “Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll give you something better than voodoo.”
“Oh?” Captain Wallace leaned forward on his elbows.
Miranda nodded. “I’ll give you information.”
“Oh.” The captain leaned back, disappointed. “Really? Because maybe bunions would be more effective.”
“Quiet,” said Miranda. “Listen. Your enemy has a plan. He aims to call his new ship—”
“The Panther,” Captain Wallace finished. “I know.”
She glared at him. “You want my information or not?”
He paused, then nodded.
“Then shut it,” said Miranda. “What you don’t know is that Captain Lucas aims to get a pet.”
“A pet?” Scarlet repeated, then ducked after realizing she’d spoken aloud. A pet? Back on the Hop, there had been a “no pets” rule, and Lucas had never seemed too bothered by it. She rose back up slowly and peered through the window again.
Captain Wallace looked bewildered. “Why should I care about Lucas getting a pet?” he spat.
“Because you don’t know what kind of pet it is.” Miranda helped herself to another biscuit.
Captain Wallace raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
Miranda took her time chewing and swallowing, then picked a beetle out of her teeth. “What does Captain Lucas plan to name his new ship?” she asked.
“The Pan—” Captain Wallace stopped. “Oh.”
“Sink me,” said Scarlet. “A—”
“Panther,” said Voodoo Miranda. “The boy thinks it’ll be the perfect companion for the fiercest pirate in the tropics. He hasn’t gotten it yet, but my sources tell me he’s heading off tomorrow to capture it.”
“B-b-but,” Captain Wallace sputtered. “Where will he get a p-panther?”
Miranda brushed off her crumbs and stood up. “I believe you once had a map that told you that.”
Captain Wallace’s eyes lit up. “A map of—”
“Island X,” Scarlet finished. “Oh no,” she added.
“Oh yes.” Captain Wallace stood and started to pace. “A panther’s lair. Yes, I remember now. I bet I could find it, even without the map he stole. And maybe…” He paused, tapping his chin. “Maybe I could sabotage his plans. Maybe I could trap him in the lair. But I’m going to need a crew of my own, of course. A fierce one, like Lucas’s—”
Scarlet had heard all she needed to. She had to get home. Not to her father’s home, but to Island X. Where her two greatest enemies were headed, and her crew was completely oblivious.
Scarlet was so deep in thought as she walked back to her father’s house that she didn’t notice the carriage until it was just a few yards away. She stopped and blinked hard. It was her father’s carriage, parked right outside his front door.
Which meant that he, Uncle Daniel, and Josephine were already home.
“Blast!” Scarlet cried. She ought to be in bed or at least draped dramatically across the parlor sofa.
She did an about-turn and zipped back around the corner, over a fence, and into the alley behind the house. She barged through the back door and into the kitchen, elbowing a maid out of the way and jostling the cook, who dropped an entire bag of salt into the soup she was making. Ignoring their shrieks, she ran on, taking the back stairs three at a time. Only at the top of the stairs did she stop to catch her breath.
Slowly, she opened the door to the upstairs hallway. It was empty, but she could hear voices in the library.
“Those gardens were spectacular,” Uncle Daniel was saying. “The gardener must have reams of plant knowledge.”
“But probably not the kind of knowledge you’re looking for,” said the admiral. “I doubt he knows about plant cures.”
That was it, then. Uncle Daniel was looking for a cure for the plague. Likely that was why the king had sent him here in the first place. It made Scarlet uneasy to think about Old Worlders combing the jungles for medicines. But now wasn’t the time to ponder it.
She took off her boots and tiptoed across the hallway, then slipped into her bedroom.
“Whew,” she breathed, closing the door behind her. “Safe. That was a—” She stopped as her eyes fell upon Josephine’s coat, spread out on the foot of her perfectly made bed. It hadn’t been there when Scarlet had left that morning, she was sure of it. Which could only mean that Josephine had come straight to their bedroom when she got home. Which could only mean that she’d seen Scarlet’s bed empty.
“Blimey!” Scarlet smacked her forehead. Her father was going to slay her. She was fish food.
She took a deep breath. Not that it matters now, she told herself. All that matters is that I leave tonight. Father can be as angry as he wants—it won’t change anything.
She changed out of her shirt and trousers and into the simplest dress in the closet, then headed for the library. She didn’t need a mirror to tell her she looked like she’d been swept up by a hurricane, but neither did she care. She just had to make it through the day so she could leave that night when everyone was asleep. Don’t think, she reminded herself. Just do.
“Scarlet,” her father said when she appeared at the door. “How are you?” He didn’t look angry, or even suspicious. She faltered a bit, then stepped inside.
“Um, I’m… feeling better,” she said slowly. It was impossible to tell how much he knew or suspected.
“You missed a very pleasant visit, dear,” said Uncle Daniel. “The gardens were stupendous. I’m continually impressed by how people can cultivate so many plants in this climate. I keep saying it, but the tropics are just so full of potential.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Scarlet thought she saw her father give his brother a hard look.
“How is your headache?” Josephine asked. Her face was easy to read. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and her eyes practically bored holes right into Scarlet’s.
“Oh.” Scarlet looked away. “It’s… better.” She cringed at the lie and tried to send Josephine a silent apology, the way she communicated with Sina.
Josephine walked away to look out the window.
It doesn’t matter, Scarlet told herself throughout the afternoon, while Josephine sat by the window, knitting what appeared to be a small gray mouse and avoiding Scarlet’s eye. What matters is the island, not your Old World cousin.
Whatever Josephine was feeling would not stand in the way of Scarlet getting home before Lucas and Captain Wallace arrived.
“Scarlet.” Her father stopped her on her way to bed, pulling her into the library and shutting the door behind him.
“Yes?” She swallowed hard, steeling herself for a lecture, or worse. She tried to focus on her escape plan, which she would put into action as soon as everyone fell asleep.
“I just wanted to say…” He paused, then put both hands on her shoulders. “I’m proud of you.”
“What?” Scarlet took a step back. “Why?”
“These past few days haven’t been easy, but your effort has been admirable. Daniel and Josephine adore you. They don’t suspect a thing.”
“Well, I don’t know about that.” She looked down at her boots.
“They’ve had a difficult time, those two,”
said the admiral. “Josephine’s mother’s death took quite a toll on them, as you and I can appreciate.”
“Right,” Scarlet said, now feeling even guiltier for lying to her cousin. But what could she have done differently?
It doesn’t matter, she reminded herself. All that matters tonight is the island. But even she didn’t quite believe it anymore.
“You look tired,” her father said. “Go to bed now, and sleep well, my dear.”
She obeyed, trying not to think about how she was about to let him down, too. Being part of a family was just too hard.
Scarlet waited until Josephine’s breathing grew deep and even in the bed beside hers. Then she waited a few minutes more before peeling off her covers and swinging her legs out of bed. The moon shone through the tiny window between their beds, illuminating her path to the closet, where her cabin boy clothes were stashed. She changed quickly, tucking her dagger inside her old boots.
Uncle Finn should never have taken the Hop without asking, but she was awfully glad he had. Now she had a way home, and although she’d never captained it by herself before, she was fairly certain she could—
“Where are you going?”
Scarlet yelped and spun around. Josephine was sitting up in bed, eyes wide and shining in the moonlight.
“Oh. Um.”
“And why are you dressed like a boy?” Josephine folded her hands in her lap and regarded Scarlet dead-on.
“Well.” Scarlet swallowed hard. “I’m just headed out for a midnight stroll. I do that sometimes. I’m an… in… insom… I don’t sleep well.”
Josephine kept staring at her. “I see. Is that what you were doing today while we were out?”
“Oh. Um. Yes?” Scarlet grimaced. Josephine had every right to demand an explanation, but Scarlet couldn’t very well explain it all now. “Look, Josephine, I have to go. Can we discuss this—”
Josephine reached over and lit the lamp on the table between their beds. “Tell me the truth,” she said. “Now.”
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