Jim Morgan and the Pirates of the Black Skull Page 10

  “Magic?” said the Sailor. He was a very practical man and also knew the Schemer to be prone to lies and exaggerations. “There’s no such thing as magic.”

  “He speaks the truth!” cried the Warrior, who was quick to anger but always spoke plainly to all men, for he had no fear. So the Thief and the Sailor finally believed.

  “My good, good friends,” the Schemer continued. “Do you not remember all our dreams and all our talks of changing the world? Of making it a better place and a truer place if only men like ourselves could rule it? When we were boys, it was but a dream, but I have found a way to make it reality.”

  The Sailor remained skeptical, but the Thief’s mind was taken with the idea. His heart quickly remembered all his youthful dreams. So he convinced his best friend, the Sailor, to come along, if nothing else but to lay eyes on this fantastic magic of which the Schemer spoke. Together the four friends left England and traveled to far off places, joined by an infamous pirate crew that sailed under a black flag.”

  Many adventures did the four friends share, and many dangers they did face, until they finally came to a distant island. There the Schemer led his comrades to a series of stones, engraved with an ancient tale of magic and power. There was a Treasure, the Schemer explained, a Treasure that was the key to the power that would change the world. When found, the Treasure must be taken to an ancient temple upon a rock, and only there could the magic be unleashed. And only then by a Son of Earth and a Son of Sea.”

  Jim’s heart skipped a beat in his chest and he nearly opened his mouth to interrupt the cat’s tale. He had heard those words before: Son of Earth and Son of Sea. He’d heard them long ago in the back of a gypsy wagon from an old gypsy witch named Baba Yaga. The witch had called Jim the Son of Earth and Son of Sea. But Jim kept that to himself, for he did not fully trust the black cat.

  “Now the Thief’s eyes were as opened as the Schemer’s and the Warrior’s. His heart burned with desire for magic and power. Only the Sailor, the most practical man of the sea, remained concerned. He did not fully trust the Schemer’s intentions. He tried to convince the others, especially his good friend, the Thief, to abandon this foolish quest. But once the seed of power is planted in a man’s heart, the roots grow quickly and take deep hold.

  “Who or what is this Son of Earth and Son of Sea?” the Sailor asked. “For if this plan is to work, we shall need such a man, will we not?”

  “Leave that to me,” said the Schemer, but he would say no more.

  “It was only because of his great love for his friend, the Thief, that the Sailor agreed to go along. So the four men made a pact, a pact to find this Treasure of the Ocean, and to use it to change the world – to rid it of all its injustices and wrongs. Or so the Thief and the Sailor thought. They sealed the pact and called themselves the Pirates of the Black Skull.

  “Together the four men travelled to the far away Kingdom of the Sea, ruled by a powerful King called Nemus. It was Nemus who possessed the ancient talisman, the Treasure of the Ocean. The Warrior suggested they storm Nemus’s keep and take the treasure by force. The Schemer conceived an elaborate plan to pit the King of the Sea against the Kings of the Earth, and by that way come away with the Treasure. The Sailor more and more wanted nothing but to quit this adventure and return home. But the Thief was cleverer than them all. He convinced them of a plan to earn Nemus’s trust by accomplishing three impossible tasks for Nemus – each bringing the King of the Sea a great reward.”

  “With each task the four friends completed, and with each reward they brought Nemus, the King allowed them deeper into his circle. When the third task was complete, he called the men Friends of the Sea, which made them as close to him as sons.”

  “It was then that the Thief struck, and a masterstroke it was. In the middle of the night he stole from Nemus not just one treasure, but three. Three treasures, said the Thief, one for each great task the four friends had completed in Nemus’s name.”

  “It is not known what treasures the three were. One of them was certainly the Treasure of the Ocean, the great power told of in the engravings upon the stones. But it is whispered on certain ships on certain nights, that it was not that loss that hurt old King Nemus the worst. It was the theft of another treasure: one called simply the Flower of Nemus, which cut him deepest. No one knows what such a treasure was, nor how great was its worth.”

  Nevertheless, the betrayal drove Nemus nearly mad. He called out his armies to hunt down the Pirates of the Black Skull. He threatened to slaughter them for their crimes. But the Sailor was indeed one of the greatest men of the sea, and from Nemus’s own lips had learnt some magic of the ocean. He guided his friends safely away, though his heart was sore ashamed of the thing which he and his friends had done.”

  “But now, at its very climax, the story grows cloudy and not quite clear,” Janus said, his green eyes still aglow in the moonlight. “The final truth has eluded even me, skilled catcher of deep secrets. This alone I have discerned for certain - the Pirates of the Black Skull escaped Nemus and his armies by the skin of their teeth. Chased them Nemus did, round the world and back again, but catch them he could not. When the four friends finally reached the temple where the Treasure of the Ocean might be unleashed, something quite unexpected occurred. Just when all their well-laid plans were to be brought to fruition, and the great magic put to purpose, the Thief betrayed his own friends and broke the pact.”

  “Some say he was driven mad, though I hardly believe this to be true. Others say he grew suddenly afraid of the magic, though I doubt that as well. What I believe is that the Thief decided such power was too great to be shared by four, and he wanted it all for himself. So he betrayed his friends in very walls of the temple. The Warrior was killed, the Schemer was forced to flee, and the Sailor’s friendship was lost forever, until the two of them became the greatest of foes the sea has ever known.”

  Even now, it is not fully known what the Thief did with the great Treasure. But many seek it still, and perhaps will until the end of time.”

  Janus finished his tale and twisted into a tight curl upon the railing, as though the telling of the epic adventure had been just as exhausting as the living of it. But Jim was not nearly satisfied by the ending. He jabbed an angry finger in the cat’s face.

  “What are you trying to pull here, cat? You said you were going to tell me a secret, not a fairy tale!”

  “Indeed I did, young Morgan,” Janus said, his emerald-green eyes sparkling with glee. “I don’t recall saying, ‘the end’ yet, did I, oh most impatient of listeners? Truthfully, I thought I might not need to tell you the end at all, you being such a clever boy and all. But it seems you haven’t quite figured it out, have you?”

  “Figured what out?” Jim asked. But a slimy sensation already began to crawl up his arms and legs, that feeling that he was about to be told something he did not want to hear.

  “Why, the best part of the story, of course,” Janus said happily, smiling so that his teeth glinted in the dim light. “The names of the Pirates of the Black Skull! For I have found them all out! The Warrior’s name was Lord Winter, a most angry and dangerous swordsman, a beast of a man. The Schemer’s name was Vilius Cromier, now the man called Count Cromier, a villain to his bones. The Sailor is on this very ship. His name was Robert North, but now they call him Dread Steele, Lord of the Pirates, master of disguise and magic.”

  The slippery feeling crawled into Jim’s stomach. He was already shaking his head in denial as the cat finally came to the secret he so gleefully meant to share.

  “And the Thief – the one who betrayed all and stole all and broke all - he became a great captain in the King’s Navy and even a friend of the King himself. His name was Lindsay Morgan.”

  “It’s a lie!” Jim shouted. Without thinking he swatted at the cat with an open hand. But he struck nothing but air, for the cat was nimble as a shadow and leapt down from the rail, scurrying beyond Jim’s reach. “My father was no thief! He was a man of h
onor! It was Dread Steele who betrayed him when he left the navy and became a pirate. My father was never a pirate! He was the best man in the world!” Heat bloomed in Jim’s face, but not all of it was born of Jim’s fury at Janus Blacktail. Some measure of it came from a small tickle at the back of Jim’s mind – a small tickle of doubt.

  “I am a teller of secrets, Jim Morgan,” replied the cat, his voice once again a disembodied sound from the night. Only his emerald-flame eyes floated in the black. “How they make a man feel is not my concern.”

  “Well I don’t care. That’s a lie no matter what you say, and you can forget about getting any secrets from me!” But no sooner had the words left Jim’s mouth did a burning pain ignite the back of his right hand, where Janus had scratched him. Jim cried out and grabbed his hand at the wrist in surprise, nearly falling back into the barrel.

  “Secrets are what secrets are, Jim Morgan,” said the voice, now coming from nowhere and everywhere, as even Janus’s eyes disappeared. “I have given you a secret. Like it or not, you now owe me one in return! We shall meet again, and when we do, it will be when I come to collect!”

  “You can forget it, Blacktail!” Jim shouted, but this time there was no response, for the cat was gone.

  Leaning over the railing in the dark, Jim fought the urge to weep. He gripped the wooden rail so hard he could feel it cutting his fingers. He mourned the loss of Morgan Manor and cursed his wicked Aunt Margarita and the blasted Cromiers. He mourned his life on the run, homeless and penniless and directionless. But most of all Jim mourned for his father. If Lord Morgan was still alive, Jim thought, if he were here, Jim could ask him what had happened so long ago. He could ask his father for the truth. Then he could be sure again – he could be certain again. But for now Jim was certain only of his hurt – his hurt and his anger.

  There on the prow Jim stood, still as a statue, thinking dark thoughts until the sun came up in the western sky and cut a thin line of gold over the white caps and gray rises of the ocean. He stood there until Mister Gilly, whose eyes must have been as sharp as an eagle’s, called “land ho!” over the deck. A black speck appeared on the horizon up ahead – Spire Island.

  FIFTEEN

  few hours after dawn, the Spectre made berth at a ruined pier that shambled into the heart of Shelltown. Jim had hardly moved an inch since his run in with Janus Blacktail. He still stood firmly in place at the ship’s railing, where he now looked over the teeming seaport before him. Tiled roofs ran from the beach all the way up to the base of the rocky spire that rose from the island’s center. Gulls and albatrosses lazily circled the peak on the morning breeze, cawing, shrieking, and enjoying the rising sun’s warmth upon their wings. In every street and every square, Shelltown bustled from end to end with rough-necked and roguish sailors, pirates, and privateers.

  Jim’s head ached and his eyes were still red and itchy. He had hardly slept a wink since the night before last, when he and his friends left the lighthouse for Morgan Manor. Every time Jim blinked he saw his home, burnt to ash, in his mind’s eye. Yet there was one sliver of hope to which Jim still clung - the blackened rose in his father’s box. Jim knew he should want to find the Cromiers to keep them from possessing the Treasure of the Ocean. That’s what his father would have done, Jim thought. But in his heart he could not fight the hope to catch sight of those fiends long enough to employ the enchanted thorn. In either case, however, in order to find the Cromiers, the mystery of his father’s map had to be solved.

  When the Spectre was docked, Dread Steele emerged from his quarters, shrouded in his black cloak. Cornelius Darkfeather sat perched upon his shoulder. Even on his own ship the Captain hid his face in shadow beneath his tricorn hat. Jim opened his mouth to ask Steele to where they would be going today, but the Lord of the Pirates brushed passed him without so much as a sideways glance. Jim moved to follow the Captain down the gangplank when old MacGuffy blocked his way to the ramp.

  “Captain Steele, wait!” Jim shouted. He tried to skirt around the old salt, but MacGuffy stayed Jim with a gnarled hand upon his shoulder.

  “Shelltown be no place for a sea pup, Jimmy,” MacGuffy growled, holding Jim put. “Yonder streets be full o’ pirates o’ the worst kind. They don’t take kindly to children if ye know what I mean. The Cap’n’ll find out what we need to know from the old shopkeeper, Egidio Quattrochi as he’s called, and we shall be off again ‘afore noon.”

  “I’m no child, MacGuffy! You know that and so does the captain. I went into the Vault of Treasures and came out again, didn’t I? I outsmarted the King of Thieves. It was my house that the Cromiers burnt to the ground and it’s my map that they stole!” Jim was about to go on listing all the reasons he should be accompanying Steele into Shelltown, when MacGuffy cut him off with a rough bark.

  “Twas also yer mother’s necklace that ye lost, lad. Or have ye forgotten that already?” The words stilled Jim’s tongue like a slap to the face. MacGuffy must have seen the hurt in Jim’s eyes, for his purple scar quivered on his cheeks and he clucked his tongue. “Forgive an old salt, Jim. Twas not me own words but the Capn’s. He’s a hard man, lad - as hard as yer own father ever was and that be the truth of it. But nevertheless, ye’ll be stayin’ aboard. Cap’ns orders. I go to follow the Cap’n, but stand ye fast on the ship and we shall be returnin’ shortly.”

  “Well what if I just decide to go into town on my own?” Jim said as defiantly as he could. But the moment the words left his mouth he felt himself rise off the deck, lifted by the scruff of his collar as easily as a puppy in its mother’s jaws. He looked over his shoulder and found himself eye-to-eye with the fierce face of giant Mufwalme.

  “Which is why, little man, the Captain gave orders to have you locked in his quarters until he returns. In truth, he told me you would say exactly the words you only just now spoke. He ordered me, upon you speaking them, to place you under lock and key.” A bright smile split Mufwalme’s face and he erupted in a rumbling laugh like a peal of thunder. “You are most clever, young one. But Dread Steele is more clever by far!” Mufwalme carried Jim over to the captain’s door and tossed him inside as effortlessly as a coat into a closet. Jim had time enough to turn and see Mufwalme cross his enormous arms over his chest before the door slammed in his face.

  “This is bollocks!” Jim shouted. “How are we supposed to help if we don’t even get to know what we’re up against?” Jim kicked the door as hard as he could to go along with his shouting, but earned himself nothing but a set of smashed toes for his efforts.

  “Exactly what I said, Jim,” said the voice of George Ratt. “Actually that’s exactly what I did too.” Jim turned to find his four friends already locked in the captain’s quarters along with him. George was indeed limping on his own stubbed toes, he and his brothers sporting expressions as dark and furious as Jim’s. More than anything in the world, the Ratt’s, much like Jim, hated being told what they could not do or where they could not go. Lacey, meanwhile, turned her chin up and whirled around on her heel the moment her eyes met Jim’s. She was obviously still furious with him for storming out on her the night before.

  “MacGuffy said we couldn’t be trusted to run loose on the ship with no supervision,” George continued. He threw his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Can you believe that rot? Us? Untrustworthy?” George and his brothers furrowed their brows in a united expression of deepest indignation. Of course, Jim thought, though he dared not say, MacGuffy was probably right.

  “It’s all a bit familiar, in’t it, Georgie?” said Peter. He stepped over to the quarter’s door and peered through lock with an expert eye. “Sorta like on that sloop in London last year. I could pick this lock in a breeze if I wanted. But there’s no pickin’ that huge bloke with the sword on the other side, is there?”

  “We could try the old boy-who-cried-wolf routine, Pete,” suggested Paul. “Worked wonders when we was still in St. Anne’s.”

  “Mufwalme won’t fall for that trick, or any other hair-brained sch
eme you three dream up,” said Lacey without bothering even a glance over her shoulder. She had wandered over to Captain Steele’s bookshelves and was trying very hard to pretend as if she hadn’t been listening to the boys’ entire conversation. “They’re under Dread Steele’s orders, you know, which they would never disobey. And besides that, they’re all far cleverer than any of the nuns or constables back in London.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t be the great thieves we are with that attitude, now would we, Lacey?” said George. “The proper spirit of things is to say what our father always used to say: when life – or pirates – shuts a door, look for a window.”

  George looked at Jim.

  Jim looked at George.

  They both looked to the window at the back of the captain’s quarters. In spite of everything, the corners of Jim’s mouth curved into a grin. He knew he and George were both thinking the same thing. No matter what Jim had lost, he still had the best friends a boy could have.

  “You didn’t know our father, George,” said Peter and Paul in unison. But they came to stand beside their brother with eyes fixed upon the window and fingertips tapping before a devious set of smiles. All four boys then turned to Lacey. She let out a long sigh, slumped her shoulders, and put the book in her hand back on the shelf.

  “Oh for goodness’ sake,” was all she said.

  Out the window the five friends crept, quiet as mice. Just below the windowsill a narrow ledge, barely as wide as a man’s open hand, ran along the Spectre’s hull. But the Clan of the Ratt had cut their teeth leaping from rooftops and sneaking through windows in London. They pressed themselves tight against the hull and tiptoed to the ship’s aft corner. There they found a mooring line stretched from the ship down to the pier below.

  Jim took the lead and leapt from the ledge to the rope. He swung his feet over the line and scooted his way over the water. That old rogue’s smile spread across Jim’s lips. For better or for worse, he had grown tired of just letting horrible things happen to him. It felt leagues better to really do something about them. But half way down the line, a shadow crossed over his face. To his surprise, Jim looked up to see Janus Blacktail balancing on the rope above him.