Pirates of the Caribbean 05 The Age of Bronze (5 page)

"She did not look like the sort of woman who likes pink ribbons," Tumen pointed out. The others had to agree. The undead snakes and crazy-old-man disguise didn't seem to go with ribbon and lace."Maybe it is the key to a house," Jean suggested. "Where she is staying, or hiding out."

"Wonderful," Arabella said bitterly. She handed the key to Fitzwilliam so he could get a clo
ser look. "How many houses are
there in New Orleans? All we have to do is try each one."As Fitzwilliam put out his hand to take the key, Jack slapped the boy's wrist and grabbed it himself.He held it up to the light as Fitzwilliam began to bluster. Running his fingers along the shaft, he felt a bumpy, raised texture. He spat on his thumb and rubbed harder. After a moment some of the dirt and finish came off. He tilted it forward and squinted at it."Auberge dOrleans," he finally was able to read. But he pronounced it owhergie dorHans. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Auberge is an inn," Jean explained. "It is the Inn of Orleans. They talked about building it while I lived here. I guess they have completed it now. I think it's a place for rich people. I have
no idea where it is, though."
Jack sighed. "Right then, let's ask the friendly natives."He put the key in his pocket and plastered a giant, friendly smile on his face. Unfortunately, the more normal-looking natives seemed to have left after the lunchtime rush. Most of the people who remained were more street mystics, indigents, and people of questionable trade.He chose a large woman in a bright yellow dress having tea outside a small shop. From the back at least, she looked like an upright, wholesome citizen."Excuse me, madam," Jack said, giving her a sweeping bow.

"I was wondering if you could possibly tell me the--yergh!"The woman turned around expectantly. She had a full, black, curly beard."Yes?" she asked in a deep, husky
voice. "Read your tea leaves?"
Ah, no thank you, not today, I'm having coffee," Jack apologized, backing away.A gentleman walked by, dressed appropriately, Jack thought, in a top hat and shiny polished boots. Jack took a moment to study him, though, to make sure."Excuse me, good sir," Jack said, pressing his hands together and bowing. "I was wondering if you could kindly . . .""Let your blood? Absolutely!" the man replied eagerly. He held up a syringe and a jar full of wet black squirming things. "Needle or leeches?"Jack backed away slowly. "Terribly sorry. I thought you were someone else. Entirely. Without the, ah, sucky-things."This was getting ridiculous.

Where was a gendarme, or policeman, when you actually needed one? Jack stomped through the crowd of freaks and
magicians. Then, it was as if
they parted, clearing a path before him. At the end of it was one of the most spectacular women he had ever seen. She was tall and had porcelain white skin that fairly gleamed against the midnight black dress that hugged her body. Her hair was blood red--so dark it looked almost black, and she wore beautifully gemmed netting over it. Trailing from her hand was a masquerade mask, green and spangled with sparkling silver fangs.She wasn't exactly normal, or what Jack was looking for. But she was slightly more reliable seeming than his other options. And, besides, she was gorgeous.Excuse me, madam," he began, as he stepped forward. "I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of the Auberge d'Orleans. And the quickest possible route there, if you co
uld. I'm in a bit of a hurry."
The woman parted her lips in a beautiful smile."Bon chance" she said. "That is exactly where I am going. You can follow me there." Her accent was heavily French, not that different from the man at the docks who checked for the crew's papers.Jack smiled cockily. He waved to the crew to come over. Everyone but Arabella looked relieved. She took one look at the beautiful woman and frowned. When she saw Fitzwilliam begin to straighten his jacket, she hit him.The woman walked ahead with Jack, her hips swaying gracefully as she went. She cast sidelong looks at the five friends, and she bit her lip."The Auberge is ... a ... very formal place," she said as politely as she could.The crew
of the Barnacle looked at each
other. Only then did they notice how dirty their clothes were. Even the impeccable Fitzwilliam could have used a bit of a wash. It wasn't like they'd had a chance to do laundry or freshen up since their adventures began! Jean tried to pat the dust off his shirt.Constance, trotting along beside them, spat on the ground derisively. It almost seemed as if she liked being mangy and dirty.

"There is a masquerade tonight," the woman suggested. "You might be able to get in if you are in costume ... and cleaned up a bit. . . . But your dreadful old cat will never be allowed."Constance arched her back and hissed at the woman. Jean scooped up his sister and hugged her defensively."Oh, leaving that thing behind
won’t
be a problem," Jack said suavely to the clear consternation
of Jean. He gave a wink to his
friends. "We have to get in ... a cousin of mine, he's in the shipping business. Rum, of course. What else would it be? Rum and bananas. All over the world. Huge exporter. Tremendously well respected in New Orleans. Going to get us all jobs. Owes me, he does. But he's a bit of a hotshot, big fellow, you know the type, very hoity-toity on you. We can't miss the appointment. Hate people like that, don't you? No leeway at all."

He gave the woman his most winning smile.She smiled back."Well, I am a fairly well-respected member of New Orleans society," she said with a wink. "Perhaps I can assist you.""Most grateful, beautiful lady," Jack said with another bow. Then he dropped back and whispere
d to his friends. "Did you see
that? She is absolutely crazy about me. Ain'T no crime in being charming and handsome."Arabella rolled her eyes.It turned out to be a short walk to the hotel, which was just as grand as Jean had thought. Gaslights, tall columns, a red carpet leading in and a very impressivelooking doorman with a long gray cape and matching cap. He gave the crew of the Barnacle a disgusted once-over. Then he saw the woman, and his attitude immediately changed."Bon soir madam," he said politely, bowing.Bon soir she swiftly said back. Then she spoke at length to him, continuing in French. She gestured at the crew. When they were done, the woman turned and nodded at Jack."You may follow me."The doorm
an made a big show of stepping
back so it looked like he had nothing to do with them as they filed past--until Jean tried to walk by, Constance still in his arms.The doorman shook his head. The unwashed, yes. But cats--no.

There had to be a limit somewhere. He held out his arm to stop them--but was careful not to get too close to Constance. It was as if he were afraid of getting some horrible disease from the nasty-looking thing.The woman in black gave him a smile and shook her head. Oui, le chat aussi she said, snapping her fingers.Grudgingly, the doorman let them go. Fitzwilliam gave him a look--if it had been on his father's estate, the man would have been fired for letting such riffraff in."She is a very powerful woman," the doorman explaine
d, shrugging. "What can I do?"

Inside the hotel, a grand ball was in progress. Miles of thick red and black velvet draped everything: chairs, tables, walls, and even doors. The long hall they went down had mirrored walls and was hung with chandeliers. Flickering shimmers of light illuminated partygoers all in costume, glasses of champagne in their hands. They wore elegant masks of incredible design: horned demons, haloed angels, feathered birds, petaled flowers, golden moons, and things too strange to describe.Arabella tried not to gape. Fitzwilliam looked a little uncomfortable. The ball was too much like the ones he was forced to go to back home, when his father was trying to marry him off.The woman snapped her fingers. From out of nowhere an attendant in a black-and-red cape appeare
d. He presented her with a bag
filled with masks. She smiled and picked through them, carefully choosing five."You must wear these," she told the crew of the Barnacle. She gave Jack a golden mask with a sharp, pointed nose. Delighted, Jack put it on. It would be easy to sneak around the hotel in disguise. For Arabella there was a fiery red one adorned with feathers that swept back and up over her ears. Fitzwilliam got a more traditional one, white with a fake tricorn hat above, black diamonds around the eyes. It went perfectly with his blue jacket and shiny black shoes. Jean and Tumen wore matching devilish masks, complete with horns and pointed eyebrows."Very handsome," Arabella said approvingly."This is the stuff, mates," Jack said, staring at his reflection in a nearby tarnished mirro
r. "We'll blend in perfectly."

"I must go now. Good luck finding your cousin, the woman said with an elegant wave of her hand. She turned away and put on her own mask. As she walked into the room, the crowd parted before her. Tumen and Fitzwilliam watched her go, a little sadly. "Look at that," Jean said, grabbing Jack. At the far end of the hall was an old woman all in green, wearing what looked like snakes around her neck! They were skinnier and longer than the old man's, but still ... it had to be Madame Minuit.Jack frowned and silently pointed. Jean's jaw dropped. There were two other people in the hall, also wearing snakes. One was a younger woman; she laughed and tapped a cane with a carved viper twirling up it. Another was a man all in yellow with a yellow mask and a belt that looked like it was made from c
oiled snakes.
I dont know if any of these is our man, er, woman, um, mate," Jack said, "but the company we are keeping at this here party is making me a little bit uneasy, you know, not being able to really see the partyers eyes and all that."Jack leaned in closer to his crew. "Let's split up and find out which--if any--of these colorful characters
is Madame Minuit."

CHAPTER TEN

Jack headed toward the first woman they had spotted, at the far end of the ballroom. Jean and Tumen crept up on the man with the snake belt, and Fitzwilliam and Arabella approached the lady with the cane. With all of the partyers in the ballroom, it was easy to mingle and hide among them.The woman with the blood-red hair who led them to the hotel stepped up to a podium. The crowd began applauding. The crew of the
barnacle hastily did the same,
trying to blend in as much as possible."Welcome, everyone," the woman said in a rich voice that carried well, "to our annual Masquerade NoirWith the audience's attention elsewhere, the five friends began to inch toward their targets. Arabella took a deep breath. The woman with the snake on the cane had a small purse hanging off her wrist, just about the right size for an amulet. With Fitz william looking nervous, Arabella started to sneak her hand into the purse, just as she had seen pickpockets do back in Tortuga. Almost there ..."Ahha!" Jack's voice rang out. The old woman he had been tailing was right in front of him. The telltale gleam of a silvery amulet shone against her neck.Arabella jerked her hand back quickly so as not to b
e noticed. Tumen and Jean also
jumped away from their man. Fitzwilliams hand went to his sword. Constance hissed.The entire room turned to look at Jack.So did the gorgeous woman who had let them in. But unlike the rest of the party-goers, she did not look shocked or surprised. In fact, she looked satisfied. It was almost as if she knew something like this was going to happen. Like this was the reason she had brought the crew of the Barnacle to the hotel!

"J'accuse!" Jack cried triumphantly at the old woman with the amulet. He spun her around roughly and presented her to the crowd. "This vile, this powerful--well, okay, this rather frail-looking old woman ... might not look so threatening. Oh, no, not in the least. But, ladies and gentlemen, do not let her fool you! She is vile and powerful. Look at her snakes. . . . He grabbed one to hold it up. It fell
limply in his hand, soft and
tickly. What he and Jean both thought were snakes were actually just dark green boas. "OK, well, they look like snakes. Obviously, they're meant to be snakes. I mean, come on, from a distance ...?" Jack said, almost stuttering.Arabella sighed as Jack prattled on. Fitzwilliam shook his head."We've been following her, you see," he explained to the confused-looking audience. He pressed his hands together like a teacher and strode back and forth. "All the way from the Yucatan, where she used weird little dolls to make a poor old witch doctor sick. . . .""He is not a witch doctor," Tumen mumbled. "He is my great-grandfather."Jack shot him an exasperated look. "Okay, even worse. She made an old great-grandfather sick. Just to take his amulet. His powerful, magical a
mulet. That turns things into
bronze. Well, all right, I realize that doesn't sound that powerful," he admitted. "I didn't really think so, either. I mean, it's not like it turns things into gold, or even chocolate. But it did turn an entire ship into--ah--bronze, and well, LOOK! THE AMULET!"He ended his speech quickly, grabbing a necklace from the woman and holding it up.

"You are all in the presence of the mysterious and greatly feared Madame Minuit!"The crowd was silent.Then the woman with the blood-red hair laughed."Are you sure that is the right amulet, Jack?" she purred.Jack frowned. He looked at the golden disk in his hand. It actually looked nothing like the amulet they were searching for. It had none of that piece's elegance. Instead, it was filled with u
gly, big, red and green gems.
The sort of jewelry a crazy old rich woman would wear."Wait, how did you know my name?" he asked, suddenly realizing what she had said. The woman just laughed again and clapped her hands. "Let us help you find your amulet. Perhaps it's that one over there ... or the one Mademoiselle Calais is wearing over by the door? Or maybe that one?"With nasty leers and smiles, many others in the crowd pulled out gleaming amulets. They waved them tauntingly. None of the amulets were quite right--some were square, some had moons on them, some had a different number of empty places where gems would go."Jack . . ." Arabella said, worriedly."Perhaps Monsieur Voiture is wearing it ..." the woman on the podium continued. ". . . Or perhaps you are lookin
g for mine!"
She triumphantly pulled out an amulet of her own. A stolen amulet of her own--seven points, four filled with jade, two empty settings, and one with a bronze gem in it!Well, I guess you would be the lovely Madame Minuit, then," Jack said weakly.