by Mike Litwin
“Never mind!” Marco squawked. “CUT the anchor!”
Ribeye unhooked the anchor’s chain from the ship. The chain disappeared into the water as the Swashclucker swiftly took off in the strong tropical wind.
“Ciao, your majesty!” Marco crowed back at the Kingfish with a phony bow. “We’ll send you a postcard from Spidercrab Rock!”
The Kingfish was furious. But with his ship’s sails on fire and his crew in a panic, there was nothing he could do but watch them escape. He ranted and raved from his spot in the water, watching the Swashclucker get smaller and smaller until it disappeared on the horizon.
7
LULLABY
With the Kingfish far behind them, the Swashclucker and the crew were well on their way to Sterling Reef. But not everyone was as happy as they should have been.
Marco paced his cabin in frustration. His map was no longer a secret, his ship had been looted, and he had lost his spyglass to the Kingfish. These two calves are bringing me nothing but trouble, he thought. If it weren’t for my quick thinking, we never would have escaped!
Marco wasn’t the only one in a foul mood. Dakota spent much of the day moping and thinking about all the fun and safe things he could be doing back on Bermooda.
Chuck tried to pull Dakota out of his funk by reading the poem from map aloud.
“What about this last line?” Chuck nudged Dakota’s shoulder. “‘Those who bring ruin will earn it as well.’ What do you think that means?”
Dakota pretended to ignore Chuck as he tossed a pebble into the water. He looked out at the sea, which glittered like gold as the late afternoon’s sunbeams danced across it. I could be laying in a hammock right now, he thought.
“I think it means that you get what you give,” Chuck went on. “Bullies like the Kingfish? They get what they deserve.”
Dakota scoffed. “Bullies never get what they deserve. I know what bullies are like. The orphanage I ran away from was full of them. Bullies take whatever they want. They take your lunch. They take your bed. They push you around. And they always get away with it.”
Marco came out from his cabin, interrupting them. “We should be upon Sterling Reef soon. If I had my spyglass, I could keep a lookout for it. I can’t believe it’s in the fins of that slimy, whiskered pirate!”
“It’s okay, Captain,” Chuck held up the spyglass he found in the shipwreck. “We have this one!” Chuck had done his best to clean all the gunk and barnacles from the old spyglass. Underneath all the muck, he found it had a rough wooden finish with a pattern of curly waves carved into the side.
Marco was still not impressed. His spyglass was much shinier and prettier than this old thing. He frowned as he inspected the telescope. It seemed to work just fine, even though it was so ancient. But he couldn’t see anything special about it.
“It works,” Marco said. “But it’s nowhere near as useful as that flute of yours. What else can that thing do besides blow bubbles and shoot fire?”
“Well, I haven’t played this song yet,” Dakota said. He began to play “Tempest and the Tide.” It was a spooky-sounding tune, with lots of eerie flat notes. As he played, the clouds darkened and gathered above them. The breeze strengthened into a strong wind, and the sea around them began to swell and rise.
Chuck clamped a hoof over the hornpipe. “Okay, stop. Maybe we should save that one for later.”
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a cow play the flute so well. You manage nicely with those hooves,” Marco said, looking at the coconut shells that disguised Dakota’s human hands.
“Oh, ummm…you must have learned how to do that when you were growing up on your boat…right, Dakota?” Chuck stammered.
Chuck and Dakota explained to Marco that Dakota was a “Sea Cow,” who had once lived on a boat with his family. They told him the tale of how his family became lost at sea while he was visiting Bermooda, making him an orphan.
None of that was true, of course. Dakota was an orphan, but never had a real family that he could remember. That story, much like his cowmouflage, was just another made-up disguise to hide the fact that he was a hu’man.
It always bothered Dakota a little to tell this lie. But Chuck insisted that they keep his identity a secret, and Dakota figured if Marco was in the habit of making up stories, he shouldn’t feel too guilty about doing the same thing.
Chuck glanced at the sheet music. “‘Song o’ the Sea Cow’,” he read aloud. “What does that one sound like?”
Dakota took a deep breath and played “Song o’ the Sea Cow.” It was sweet and soothing, like a lullaby. All four shipmates felt a wave of sleepiness wash over them as Dakota played its gentle tones. Their heads began to swim as they fell under the spell of the hornpipe’s lullaby. Marco forgot all about his bad luck. Ribeye smiled for the fist time ever. All their troubles seemed to float away as the gentle melody covered them like a warm blanket. Soon, all four of them were fast asleep. As sunset neared, the Swashclucker sailed on toward Sterling Reef, with no one awake…and no one behind the wheel.
8
THE SILVER COWS
The Swashclucker crew awoke to a loud crunch and a sudden lurch. They slid across the deck as everything tilted to the side. The ship made a groaning noise as it came to a complete stop.
“What happened?” Dakota asked. “Did we all fall asleep?”
Chuck rubbed his eyes and looked over the ship’s railing. Below was a giant ring of shallow coral with a lush, green lagoon in the center. The Swashclucker was perched on the edge of it. They had crashed right into Sterling Reef.
They rushed below deck, looking for damage. Sure enough, the reef had gouged a hole in the hull. They wouldn’t be able to put the Swashclucker back in the water without fixing it. Marco buried his face in his wings. Just when he thought everything was going so well!
Chuck peeked through the hole to the outside. “It’s not that bad…” he began. He stopped short when a face popped up on the other side of the hole. A cow face. A silver cow face.
“Silver cow! Silver cow!” he babbled, pointing at the hole. The face disappeared. Without thinking, Chuck dove into the hole after it. He fell through, landing in the shallow water on the other side. His shipmates joined him as he pulled himself up, and they found themselves face-to-face with a shiny cow bobbing in the waves.
“The Silver Cow from our ghost hunt!” Dakota said. “It’s real!”
This cow was clearly not a ghost. It was unlike any cow they’d ever seen. It had flippers instead of hooves. Its fur glinted like metal and its big round fish eyes gleamed like glass. It was singing the same sweet melody that Dakota had played on the hornpipe. But the most shocking thing was yet to come. When the silver cow dove under the water, they saw that it had the tail of a fish!
“It’s a Mana Ti’i,” Marco whispered, removing his hat. “Legend says they arise at sunset and sing their beautiful song all through the night. I have never seen one with my own eyes until now.” He smiled at Dakota. “You may have come from the ocean, my friend. But these…are the real Sea Cows.”
They gazed around in amazement. Hundreds of singing Mana Ti’i covered the reef. They all glittered in the light of the setting sun, making the whole coral reef shine like a silver ring on the water.
Then something caught Chuck’s attention. In the middle of all that silver, the low tide had exposed a rock that flashed gold in the center of the lagoon.
“What’s that? It looks like gold!” Chuck twitched his tail and flared his nostrils, convinced this was another clue. He charged out into the shallow water.
”Wait!” Dakota called out. But Chuck was already splashing his way furiously toward the shimmering rock. Dakota, Marco, and Ribeye set off after him, tromping through the water. They caught up just as Chuck crawled up to a ledge of the rock. They now saw the gold came from a large key embedded into the side of the coral.
“A key! It’s a key!” Chuck panted. “Look! It’s made of gold coral! Just like the crown!” Chu
ck’s hooves shook as they eagerly chipped away at the rock until the key came loose. “Coral Crown, coral key…it all makes sense! It’s ‘a key of her kind!’”
Then a soft voice came from above, “Why do you seek the Coral Crown?”
Startled, they all snapped their heads up to find a Sea Cow perched majestically on top of the rock. She wore a crown of lotus flowers and had eyes that seemed to be full of sadness.
“I am Lyra,” she said. They were all hypnotized by her voice, which rang like jingling bells. “Why do you seek the Coral Crown?” she repeated.
“My family has sought that prize for generations,” Marco said proudly. “My grandfather, my great grandfather, my great-great grandfather, my great uncle, my third cousin on my mother’s side…”
“Do you know what the crown is?” she gently interrupted.
Dakota expected Marco to launch into another tale, but surprisingly Marco clucked not a word. It was his turn to hear a story.
“Long before cows or chickens sailed the sea, a beast with an unstoppable appetite threatened to devour the entire ocean. The eleven noble creatures of the sea—the Dolphin, the Octopus, the Whale, the Crab, the Sea Turtle, the Stingray, the Marlin, the Hammerhead, the Seal, the Squid, and the Starfish—joined together. They crafted the crown from gold coral—coral from the deepest and most beautiful parts of the ocean. The noble hearts of the crown’s creators gave it a magical power that even the beast could not stand up against. The beast became powerless in the crown’s presence, and was no longer able to destroy the ocean. Peace returned to the sea.
The noble creatures then locked the crown away in a secret, guarded place where it protects the sea to this day. However, the Starfish wrote its location in the sky, hidden in a constellation shaped like a crown.
The crown is not a prize, my dear sailors. Whoever wears the crown…holds the heart of the Cowibbean Sea.”
“I wish I could wear the crown,” Dakota muttered. “I’d show that bully Kingfish a thing or two.”
“I’m not sure anyone should wear the crown,” Lyra said. “The crown brings your heart’s desires to life. Is anyone’s heart that pure?”
Chuck felt his face suddenly flush. “OH, NO!” he cried. “I told that parrot everything! Every single stop on the map! Can you imagine what will happen if the Kingfish gets the crown first? His heart is full of nothing but hate!”
“His heart is full of fear,” Lyra’s jingly voice rang. “The things we choose to hate are often those that we fear. Even the fiercest bully has something of which he is afraid.”
Dakota had a hard time imagining anything that could frighten the Kingfish.
“You seem to have noble hearts, little calves,” Lyra sang. “If your desire is to stop the Kingfish, then this key is yours. But be sure to guard your own hearts well.”
Chuck took the key in his hooves. “Moohalo,” he thanked her.
The four shipmates spent much of their night patching the hole in the Swashclucker. They were tired, but too excited to sleep. They all laid on the ship’s deck, listening to the waves break against the reef.
“Ten brave roosters of my family have all searched for the prize and failed,” Marco sighed. “Now I think perhaps it is because a prize is all they saw.”
A troublesome thought crossed Dakota’s mind as he thought back to Lyra’s story. “The beast…do you suppose it was a hu’man?”
“Ha HA!” Marco cackled. “Little cow, I’ve seen horrific monsters from the darkest depths of the sea. But hu’mans? That would be truly unbelievable.”
Chuck turned the coral key over in his hooves, admiring the way it sparkled in the moonlight. “The poem says ‘we shall be guided by stars of our own’,” he said. “Marco, have you ever seen a constellation in the shape of a crown?”
“Never,” Marco shook his head. “And I’ve used the stars as a guide all my life. But we already know where the crown is. It’s at Spidercrab Rock.” Marco slid his hat down over his face. “It’s just an old song,” he yawned. “No one can make stars.”
Now ready for bed, Chuck and Dakota went to their bunk and found that the Kingfish’s pirates had taken all their blankets during the raid. But the night was warm and the Sea Cows were singing again. Before long, they were lulled into a well-earned sleep.
9
THE TEMPEST
Chuck and Dakota awoke at dawn to the sound of Marco’s crowing once again. Arriving on deck, they were greeted by a bright red sky.
“Red sky at morning,” Dakota said. “Doesn’t that mean a storm is coming?”
“That is the least of our worries!” Marco said. “We have bigger problems coming!”
They squinted into the sunrise and saw the Tyrant headed their way, sailing along at full speed. The Kingfish had caught up with them. As the ship neared, they saw the burnt sails had been repaired with some very familiar-looking material.
“Hey!” Dakota cried. “Those are our blankets, you pirates!”
At the sight of the Tyrant, all the Mana Ti’i dove into the water, hiding beneath the waves. But the Kingfish wasn’t coming to the reef. Instead, the Tyrant glided by.
“What’s he doing?” Dakota wondered.
“He’s passing us!” Marco realized.
“He’s going to beat us to the crown!” Chuck looked down at the Swashclucker’s keel, still resting on the coral. “We have to get off this reef! If only the tide were higher!”
Dakota’s mind zipped back to the day before, when he made the skies darken and the waters rise by playing the hornpipe. He grabbed the flute and the sheet music.
“Everybody hold on!” he warned. Taking a deep breath, he began playing “Tempest and the Tide.” A low rumble filled the skies above. Puffy gray clouds began to fill the morning sky. The wind began to blow harder. The water began to rise.
“Not enough!” Chuck mooed, looking down at the reef. “Play louder! Play faster!”
Dakota played louder and faster. The clouds thickened, blocking out the red sunrise as he repeated the song over and over. The water rose higher and higher, lifting them off the reef. The wind, which now gusted so hard they had to yell to be heard, carried them swiftly after the Tyrant.
Ribeye tied down the sails. Marco flapped up to the crow’s nest to get a better look at the Tyrant.
“We’re catching up!” Marco crowed. He pointed at Chuck and yelled, “Steer!”
“Me?” Chuck yelled back. “I’m not a steer! I’m just a calf!”
“No, you silly cow!” Marco clucked wildly, pointing ahead to the Tyrant. “STEER!”
Chuck got on the ship’s wheel and did his best to steer. But the weather was getting out of control. The sky had turned almost black. Rain poured down in buckets. Both the Swashclucker and the Tyrant were getting slammed by waves that pounded the ships’ hulls.
“Basta!” Marco squawked to Dakota. “Stop! Stop playing!”
But the storm couldn’t be stopped. It was now a full-blown tempest, with wind and waves that tossed both ships around on the sea like toys in a bathtub. Soon, neither ship could see the other through the driving rain and the waves crashing over the deck. Ribeye took over the wheel as lightning ripped through the dark sky. The Swashclucker turned on its side in the wind, knocking everyone onto their faces. The key bounced out of Chuck’s shirt pocket and skittered off the ship into the water.
“The key!” Chuck shrieked. But in the shake of a cow’s tail, Dakota leapt into the raging sea with the hornpipe in his hand. He grabbed the key before it could sink. Fighting to keep his head above water, he then played the notes for “The Fishes’ Breath.”
BWOP! A bubble appeared around Dakota and the key. The waves bounced him like a beach ball before picking him up and slamming him upside-down into the water near the Swashclucker. The bubble broke, leaving Dakota with his head underwater. Ribeye grasped Dakota’s feet and pulled him aboard just as a colossal wave hurled the ship up into the air. Dakota’s stomach churned as the wall of water sent the s
hip crashing down again. The black sky swirled in front of Dakota’s eyes as the Swashclucker spun out of control…then everything went black for him, too.
10
SPIDERCRAB ROCK
Dakota awoke to Chuck’s face hovering over him.
“Hey, you’re awake!” he mooed. “You’ve been out for over thirty minutes.”
They had weathered the storm. The sea was now calm, and the Tyrant was nowhere in sight.
Dakota sat and rubbed the back of his head. “Where are we?” he asked.
“The storm a-threw us off,” Marco called out fromm the ship’s wheel. “But not terribly so. I have nearly managed to get us a-back on course. And I did it all without that grubby old spyglass.”
“That was pretty brave for someone who doesn’t even believe the crown exists,” Chuck said, helping Dakota to his feet.
Dakota handed over the key. “I don’t know what I believe anymore. I just couldn’t let that Kingfish win.”
They sailed on. But after a few hours they began to feel like they were going in circles. Marco checked and double-checked the map, then sat down in confusion.
“I don’t understand,” Marco took off his hat and scratched his head. “This should be the right place.”
“Maybe the storm blew us further off course than we thought,” Chuck said.
“Impossible!” Marco said. “According to the map, Spidercrab Rock should be right there!” He pointed to an empty spot about a half-mile away.
“So…what, then? It just doesn’t exist?” Dakota asked. Marco remained silent. He had no more answers.
“Great!” Dakota shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “I just knew it! There is no Spidercrab Rock! There is no Coral Crown! We came all this way for nothing!”
Chuck felt crushed. He wiped the lens of the old spyglass and peered through, hoping he’d find something to prove their whole mission had not been a waste.
