Spirits in the Park (34 page)

But then it happened; Tucket slipped, and the bear did not hesitate. He thrust one mighty paw across Tucket's head, sending the dog crashing into the wall. Debris began to rain from the peak above, and Bridget and her friends had to dodge the falling rocks. Tucket whined, barely moving, as the bear reared back to roar in triumph before one last, fatal swipe.

“NOOOOO!” Bridget cried, and Soka had to hold her from running in front of the blow. Soka glanced up at the top of the wall and her eyes widened. She yelled down at Hans, who had just staggered to his feet.

“Can you toss one of your firecrackers up there?”

“I'd need to get closer and the wall's too slippery to climb. You'll have to throw me.”

Finn stepped forward.

“I'll do it!” he said, picking up the roach. Hans gave the order and Finn reared back and threw with all his strength, sending the small insect warrior soaring through the air. Up the battle roach flew, and for a moment it appeared as if he'd reach the top of the wall. But the roach began to slow far short of safety. Instead, once he reached the apex of his flight, Hans threw a tiny firecracker, the miniature missle arcing toward a large icicle swaying up above. Then the battle roach fell, fast, crashing into the rocks at Tucket's feet.

For a moment nothing happened, and the bear lifted its paw for the deathblow. But just as the paw descended, a small explosion went off up above and the large icicle fell loose, whistling through the air as it dropped to impale the bear right through the jaw and send him crashing to the ground. The bear began to thrash, crashing into the wall again and again over the injured bodies of the brave spirit dog and the spunky battle roach. At last, the bear fell forward right through the ice, breaking it apart. An avalanche of ice and stone tumbled forward over its dead body—over Tucket and Hans, too—until they all disappeared completely under the rubble. The last few rocks tumbled forward down the path to the trail below, and then all was still. The great bear was dead.

Bridget rushed forward with a cry. She tore at the rocks with her bare hands. Soka tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen. She kept digging and digging, until finally she heard a whine. Following the sound, she tossed aside the rubble until she came across the gigantic bear paw. Nestled underneath, protected by the curved palm of the dead beast, lay Tucket and Hans.

She pulled Tucket out, sobbing without tears. He had shrunk to the size he'd been when she'd first met him, barely larger than a puppy. He was covered in scratches from his battle, and his beautiful coat was matted with blood. But he still breathed, and she sat by his side, petting him and whispering that everything would be all right.

“Good dog,” she breathed into his ear. “You're a good, good dog.”

Meanwhile, Soka knelt down next to the prone battle roach, gently pulling off his helmet.

“He's unconscious,” she said. “And it looks like one of his arms is crushed. But we won't know how injured he is until he wakes up. If he wakes up . . .”

Bridget's heart ached at the sight of her injured friends. She didn't even react when Finn let out a shout from the other side of the fallen wall.

“It's here! The cave! The ruby icefall. All of it! There must have been an avalanche that sealed it off during that blizzard Granddad talked about. Come on, the cave's warm inside!”

Bridget lifted Tucket into her arms and carried him over the rubble. On the other side, a beautiful sight greeted her. The entire wall along the path glittered ruby red, like a dazzling gemstone. She realized that the red came from the stone, but the glittering came from the ice that encased it. Behind the ice, water trickled down the stone in a steady stream. The effect was of a magical curtain giving her a glimpse into another world. She passed by in silence, the ruby icefall stealing her voice away.

Farther down the path she came upon the cave, which loomed before her like an open airplane hangar. As she entered, she realized from the mess that the bear had been living in it. She wondered what it had done to whatever secrets Kieft had left there.

But the cave was empty, save for some bones in the corner and giant mounds of manure everywhere. Finn, however, had already found a way farther inside, and he led them to the thin crack in the far wall.

“This is it,” Finn said, smiling from excitement. “The old man never found it, but I did.”

Soka smiled, though her eyes seemed tired. She glanced down at Tucket and Hans. “But was it worth the fight?” she wondered.

“Can I take Tucket in first?” Bridget asked. “He deserves to see the secret before anyone else. I'll even close my eyes.”

Finn hesitated, but Soka nodded gently.

“After you,” she said. Bridget stepped forward with Tucket in her arms, her eyes screwed shut. Finally, she stopped.

“Impressed, Tucket?” she asked. “Can I look now?” With that, she opened her eyes.

She felt like weeping. The room was empty.

But it hadn't always been so. There were clues to what had once filled the cave—Finn found a single gold piece, which he bit into and pronounced real, and Soka discovered a single piece of parchment.

“This is a Munsee spell,” she said. “My mother always thought Kieft was stealing Munsee magic. Who knows how many of these parchments Kieft stored in here? All of our knowledge . . . we've lost so much of it since we've been trapped! Think of what we'd regain!”

“Well, it's gone now,” Finn said, kicking a pebble in frustration. “Someone must have moved it all.”

“What about Abigail's token?” Bridget asked. “That's what we're here for, right?”

“If it was wrapped up in Kieft's treasure, then it's probably gone, too,” Hans said sourly. Discouraged, Bridget sat against the wall with Tucket in her arms. Soka knelt down beside her.

“It's okay,” she began, taking Bridget's hand, but she stopped midsentence, her eyes puzzled. She lifted Bridget's arm. “Your wrist is so hot it's practically on fire, Bridget.”

“What?” Bridget wished she could feel something through her paper skin. She looked down at her wrist, noticing the purple wampum melted into the bark. “The bracelet! There must be wampum near me!”

Soka nodded hopefully. She took Bridget's wrist and began passing it over the floor. Finally, she stopped over a flat rock set flush with the dirt on the cave floor, indistinguishable from the rest of the cave. “Here it is, whatever it is.” Soka quickly lifted up the rock. Underneath lay a dirty brown pouch, cracked with age. Pulling it open, Soka upended it over her palm—and out dropped half of a single purple wampum bead.

“I can feel it,” Soka exclaimed, face flushed with excitement. “It's calling us south! She left a final arrow pointing to her. If we follow it, we find her!”

“Well, we better get going,” Bridget said, standing up. “We don't want to be any later than we already are!”

T
he Adventure Galley flew through the mist, moving blindly at a ridiculous speed powered by the stories in Wampage's bead. Rory wondered what would happen if they hit something, and from the look on Kidd's face, the pirate captain was worried, too.

Hours passed tensely, with only the words pouring forth from the wampum breaking the wall of wind that surrounded them. Though he didn't speak the language, Rory found himself understanding many of the tales—they bypassed his ears and went directly into his memory. Glancing around, he noticed not only his friends, but many of the sailors as well, listening intently. Some of the stories Rory picked up were familiar; he guessed that Wampage had told him those tales when he was a baby. A few of them flew by him before he could hear them. But most of them caught inside, and he would remember them always. It felt like a bigger gift than the escape, though he couldn't explain why. He promised himself that he would pass these stories on, not only to the Munsees, but to anyone who would listen. That would be his way of thanking Wampage for his sacrifice.

Finally, the words sputtered out as the last tale flew up into the sails and the ship began to slow. By now, the normal wind had picked up and they began sailing under natural power. Wampage put the bead of wampum into a pouch at his waist, his face stone. Rory stepped up to him.

“I'm so sorry.” Rory didn't know if he could touch Wampage's arm, so he just stood there awkwardly at the Munsee's side. “This is all my fault. I was too stubborn . . .”

Wampage sighed. “Perhaps Kishelamakank meant for his stories to be let loose among all these strangers. Perhaps they will take root with them and spread through the city when we return, binding my people to yours. Either way, there is nothing we can do now but sail on.”

“Something's ahead, Captain!” The cry came down from the crow's nest, interrupting them. Rory ran to the bow, peering intently through the fog. Suddenly a dark shape formed out of the mist, its indistinct features sharpening as they approached. It was a ship. Rory's heart leaped. Could it be? As they sailed closer, he could make out more details: the rotting hull, the tattered sails . . . it was the Half Moon all right. Rory could hardly breathe as he realized that this was it. Alexa stepped up beside him, shaking her head in disbelief.

“You are a lucky guy, Rory,” she said. “We're all pretty lucky today.”

They sailed up alongside the listing ship. Rory wondered how the thing ever sailed in such awful condition. He was nervous to set foot on the thing. But he would.

A shout carried across the water.

“Ahoy!” the voice cried. “Do not come aboard! We'll come to you!”

A pair of men were climbing down the hull into a small skiff. The little boat pushed off, and the men inside rowed the short distance between the ships. They bounced into the Adventure Galley with a clang and one of them called up.

“Permission to come aboard?”

“Granted,” Kidd yelled back, though he motioned to his men to pull their pistols and cutlasses in case of an attack. The two men climbed up the ladder and stepped onto the deck. And there he was, striding up to Kidd, not a day older than in his picture. Rory's father, in the flesh.

Alexa's hand tightened on Rory's shoulder. Should he walk up? He knew he should, but instead he held back. He didn't know what to say to the man. Rory's father was clearly in charge, stepping up to Captain Kidd to shake his hand.

“I don't know if you remember me, Captain,” Mr. Hennessy was saying. “My name is Ronald Flint. I was one of Tew's Boys, if you recall.” Kidd glanced sharply at Rory; the captain had recognized Rory's father right away. “My associate and I are the only ones who could come over to your vessel. The rest are damned souls, sad to say, and they can't leave the ship.”

“What are you doing sailing on a ghost ship, anyway?” Kidd asked.

“It's a bit mournful at times, I won't lie to you,” Mr. Hennessy admitted. “But since the Half Moon is a cursed ship, no one in their right mind would ever try to sail alongside and board her. So if you can take the depression of hanging out with cursed people with their constant moaning and the like, there are certain perks to joining the crew, especially if you don't want to be found. If you get my drift.”

Kidd nodded, one marked man to another.

“Now, however, a big storm is coming and the Half Moon is about to head homeward yet again to warn the city of its impending doom,” Mr. Hennessy continued. “She will show up right before the storm, which means those of us who aren't damned won't get much of a chance to reach shore before we're battered to pieces. So if you wouldn't mind, we'd like to sail the rest of the way with you. We'd rather not get torn apart by what's coming—at least not yet.”

Kidd nodded. He laid out the terms of service, which they agreed to, then welcomed them aboard. Kidd left them to Hendrick, and walked over to Rory.

“Are you going to talk to him or just stand there?” he asked.

Rory shrugged, hanging back. He had no idea what to say. His father wasn't a real person. He was a picture, a memory, a legend. What do you say to someone like that? Rory held back and watched, unable to decide what to do.

Wampage, however, was creeping forward, a confused look on his face. At first, Rory thought his friend was headed toward Mr. Hennessy, but instead Wampage circled toward his father's companion. A tall fellow in a wide hat that covered his face in shadow, the man wasn't looking their way. But Wampage seemed to be fascinated hy him. He stepped closer and finally the other man heard him, turning toward the sound. Wampage fell back, shocked.

“You . . .”

The man took off his hat to reveal wide, awed eyes. His cheeks bore tattoos of snarling dogs, the twins of Tammand's. Rory knew that face; he had seen it before . . .

“You're out!” the man cried. “Are they free? Are our people free?” Wampage couldn't reply, having difficulty finding his voice.

“What's going on?” Simon whispered to Rory. “Who is that guy?”

“I don't believe it,” Alexa said, understanding blossoming across her face. Rory turned to Simon, who was still a step behind.

“His name is Buckongahelas,” he said, wonder creeping into his voice. “And he's supposed to be dead.”

Kidd invited Mr. Hennessy and Buckongahelas, who insisted they call him Buck, into his dining room, where Rory, Alexa, Simon, Fritz, and Wampage joined them. Mr. Hennessy kept shooting glances at Rory, obviously wondering why he looked familiar, but Rory did not introduce himself. He still didn't know what he should say to his long-absent dad, so he settled on staring a hole into the man.