Peter and the Sword of Mercy (41 page)

The procession entered a long, narrow hallway. The Beefeaters’ mood was serious, but not tense. The last place they expected trouble was here, in the bowels of the best-guarded building in the Tower complex.

Halfway down the tunnel, the short man in front of the Beefeater holding Curtana stumbled, or so it appeared. What happened next took place so quickly that it would have taken the eyes of a career pickpocket—which is precisely what Revile’s men were—to follow it. The short man fell to the floor, sprawling in such a way that he took out the feet from under the Beefeater. The Beefeater fell forward hard, his body obeying the defensive instinct to break his fall by thrusting out his hands—and losing his grip on the sword. Both the Beefeater and Curtana were deftly caught by the tall man in front, who righted the Beefeater and, with a flourish, handed him the counterfeit sword he had been concealing in a special sheath inside his coat—a sheath that now held Curtana.

The men ahead in line didn’t see any of this; they were facing forward. The view of the men behind was blocked by the third man in Revile’s team. Everyone quickly concluded that it had been a minor mishap; the important thing was that the sword had not been dropped. The procession continued on its way, and in ten minutes, the swords were back in their cases.

A few minutes later, the king’s three observers were leaving the Tower. The tall one was still walking a bit stiffly.

T
HE
W
HITE
S
TARFISH

“
W
E SHOULDN’T BE DOING THIS
,” whispered Little Scallop.

“Shh!” hissed Shining Pearl, momentarily silencing her little sister. The two girls, having slipped out of their sleeping hut, were creeping along a moonlit path leading away from the Mollusk village.

After a few steps, Little Scallop said, “But Father says—”

“I
know
what Father says,” said Shining Pearl. Their father, Fighting Prawn, the Mollusk chief, had told the girls more than once that they were never to leave the village alone at night. “But that rule was from before, when there were pirates here. Now the pirates are gone, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“It’s still a rule,” said Little Scallop.

“Yes, but this is a special situation. We need to surprise Father for his birthday. How can we do that if he knows what we’re doing? And we’ll only be gone a little while. And the boys will be with us.”

“I don’t see what’s so special about a smelly starfish anyway. Why couldn’t we just have made him a conch necklace?”

“Because we’ve made him necklaces for the last I-don’t-know-how-many birthdays. And it’s not just a starfish. It’s a
white
starfish, and those are good luck.”

“What if it isn’t a white starfish?”

“It is, and I know exactly where I saw it.”

“Why didn’t you get it then?”

Shining Pearl rolled her eyes. “I told you. I couldn’t get to it when the tide was high. But now it’s low, so it will be easy. Just wait: tomorrow morning we’re going to give it to Father and he’s going to be so happy he’s going to give us one of those hugs where you can’t breathe.”

Little Scallop smiled; she loved those hugs. But her frown returned as she said, “But what if we get caught?”

“We won’t, if you’ll be quiet. Now look for the boys. They were supposed to—”

“There!” said Little Scallop, pointing ahead on the path. By the moonlight, Shining Pearl saw a face peering around the side of a large rock. As she came closer, she saw it was Nibs. He stepped onto the path, followed by the rest of the Lost Boys: Curly, Tootles, Slightly, and the twins.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” said Nibs.

“Of course,” said Shining Pearl. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“Look at the sky,” said Nibs.

Shining Pearl looked up and saw that a third of the stars had been blotted out by a vast, low cloud bank, which at the moment was creeping toward the island, covering more and more of the night sky.

“It’s going to rain,” said Nibs.

“A
lot,”
said Slightly.

“We should go back,” said Little Scallop.

“Not without the starfish,” said Shining Pearl. “Who cares if we get a little wet?”

Without waiting for an answer, she set off down the path. The others followed with various levels of enthusiasm. Shining Pearl led them to the water trail, which ran along the coast all the way around the island, winding its way past lookout points, beaches, and tidal pools. It was one of the island’s most-used trails, so it was wide and well-worn. The children made good progress, and soon were a good distance from the Mollusk village.

As they walked, Nibs kept glancing at the sky, watching the cloud mass draw ever closer. Gusts of wind had started to reach the island, causing the trees in the dark jungle to thrash about. The wind carried a few drops of rain.

“Are you
really
sure you want to do this tonight?” said Nibs.

“Yes,” said Shining Pearl. “Tomorrow’s Father’s birthday, and I want to give him that starfish.”

“But why d’you need all eight of us, for one starfish?” said Nibs.

Shining Pearl tried to think of something to say.

“It’s because she’s scared,” said Slightly.

“I am not!” said Shining Pearl, not convincingly.

“Can’t blame her,” Slightly went on. “The pirates made this part of the island scary for all of us. Been out of bounds the whole time we’ve lived here. I wanted to come along just so I could see stuff I haven’t seen before.”

“Can’t see much of it in the dark,” said one of the twins. No one could tell them apart.

“Here we are!” shouted a relieved Shining Pearl. She ran down to the water, where a semicircle of rocks had created a tidal pool, protected from the increasingly rough sea. Little Scallop joined her, as did the twins. The rest of the boys stayed back at the edge of the jungle, where the tree canopy protected them from the ever-more-persistent rain.

“All this for a starfish,” said Slightly. Nibs, Curly, and Tootles, eyeing the deteriorating weather, muttered in agreement.

“I’m going up there, where it’s drier,” said Tootles. He started making his way deeper into the jungle. “OWW!” he cried.

“What?” said Slightly.

“There’s something here!” said Tootles. He started pulling away a pile of leaves and branches, revealing …

“A boat!” he shouted.

The others ran over and stared.

“What’s a boat doing here?” said Curly.

“Those leaves were meant to hide it,” said Slightly. “They were cut recently. They aren’t even brown.”

“Shipwrecked,” Curly said. “It’s shipwrecked sailors.”

“Then why hide the boat?” said Slightly. “They’d want help, wouldn’t they?”

“Maybe they want to lie low until they see who else is on the island,” said Nibs. “To make sure they’re friendly.”

“Or maybe they’re not shipwrecked,” said Slightly.

“Then who are they?” said Curly.

“I don’t know,” said Slightly. “But we should tell Fighting Prawn.”

“No!” said Shining Pearl. She had come up behind them with Little Scallop and the twins. She held a wet clump of seaweed, which was wrapped around the prized white starfish. “If we tell Father, he’ll know we broke the rule. We’re not supposed to even be here.”

The boys considered that. They weren’t supposed to be there, either.

“But we need to tell him somebody’s on the island,” said Slightly. “We can’t just ignore this boat.”

It was starting to rain harder. The wind was bringing ever bigger waves, roaring as they pounded the shore. A bolt of lightning lit the jungle nearby, followed almost immediately by a deafening crash of thunder.

“I wish we never came here,” said Little Scallop, speaking for everybody.

“I have an idea,” said Nibs. “We’ll go back home tonight. Tomorrow we’ll come back here and pretend we discovered the boat. Then we can tell Fighting Prawn.”

“I don’t know,” said Slightly. “What if whoever brought this boat…”

“Whoever it is,” interrupted Nibs, “they can’t do anything tonight, not with this storm coming.”

“All right,” said Shining Pearl. “We’ll go back now, then come out here tomorrow first thing.”

They started back the way they’d come on the water trail, but stopped after only a few dozen yards. Directly ahead, a huge wave crashed over the trail, followed by another, then another, the vicious surge slamming into a mountain cliff too steep for the children to climb around. The children waited for an opening, but the massive waves kept thundering in.

Finally, Slightly stated the obvious: “We’re not going to get through this way.”

“We’ll have to take the mountain trail,” said Shining Pearl.

“In this weather?” said Nibs.

“It’s the only way back,” said Shining Pearl, who knew the island better than any of the others. She turned back on the water trail, which met the mountain trail farther down the coast, past where they’d discovered the boat. “Come on!” she urged.

The rest started after her, except for Curly, who hung back.

“What about the boars?” he said.

The others stopped. They’d forgotten about the boars.

“They come out at night, you know,” said Curly. “That’s when they hunt.”

“And that’s when they get hunted,” said Slightly. Everyone knew what he was talking about. A shudder passed through them all.

For a few seconds, the group stood in silence. Then Shining Pearl said, “We can’t stay out here. We have to get back.”

“She’s right,” said Nibs. “We’ll stick together and listen sharp. If anyone hears anything, give a shout, get up a tree fast as you can.”

He and Shining Pearl started walking, followed by the others. Curly was last in line. He was still unhappy about taking the mountain trail. But he definitely didn’t want to be left alone. Not on a night like this.

A F
LASH OF
L
IGHTNING

J
UST DOWN THE WATER TRAIL
, where it converged with the mountain trail, Cheeky O’Neal, Frederick DeWulf, and Rufus Kelly were crouched behind a pile of huge rocks at the edge of a beach, getting what protection they could from the rain. They’d been there for hours, listening to the thundering sound of big waves crashing on a reef a hundred yards offshore.

“Don’t see how they can land a boat in this,” said DeWulf. “Don’t see how they’ll get past that reef.”

“You don’t know Nerezza like I do,” said O’Neal.

“Of all the nights for a storm to come up,” said Kelly.

“It works in our favor,” said O’Neal, staring into the sheeting rain. “There’s no way the Mollusks will see them coming in this.” He turned to DeWulf and said, “McPherson’s been on watch long enough. Go relieve him.”

“But it hasn’t even been an hour!” protested DeWulf.

O’Neal, leaning his huge frame close to DeWulf, growled, “I said
go relieve Angus.”

“All right,” grumbled DeWulf, rising to his feet. “But I don’t see how—”