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Authors: Matt Myklusch

BOOK: The Lost Prince
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Dean searched Ronan’s face for a sign that he was playing with him. Instead, Ronan’s eyes burned with haunted intensity. His hands gripped the handle of his knife hard enough to turn his knuckles white. He wasn’t making this up.

“What happened next?”

Ronan shook his head with a sigh. “Nothing, or I wouldn’t be here to tell the tale. The beast dove back down beneath the waves, and we never saw it again. But One-Eyed Jack was useless from that point on. He stood at the helm with his mouth open, just staring into the ocean. Jim waved his hands in front of his face but couldn’t reach him. We would have died out there if he hadn’t taken control of the ship. To pay him back, One-Eyed Jack made him a captain at the age of twenty. I joined his crew that day, and have sailed beside him ever since. But that’s over now.” Ronan shook his head mournfully. “I swore I’d never come back
to this place, no matter what. Seems the years have made a liar out of me.”

“Yer a liar, all right,” Rook called out. Dean and Ronan turned their eyes up to find their unsavory comrade perched high in the rigging. “Don’t pay no mind to that rubbish, Seaborne. Ain’t nothin’ to it but barnacles and bilgewater. There’s no such thing as sea serpents.”

“Actually, you’d be surprised what manner of beasts are lurking out there,” Verrick said, coming up behind the boys. Dean turned around and saw the captain had changed into a formal dress uniform. He looked like a naval officer, but his colors belonged to no fleet Dean knew of. “It’s true,” Verrick continued. “All manner of terrible creatures prowl these waters. They weather storms you wouldn’t believe for most of the year, but not to worry. They’re out of season at the moment.”

“Out of season?” Ronan asked.

“Aye. For one month out of every twelve, the storms around our island clear up. The sea serpents sleep a deep slumber, and the compass points north just as it should. This is the month when the traders ship out the golden harvest. It ends this week, when the moon is full.”

Dean looked at Ronan. “Lot going on this week, you might say.”

Verrick smiled broadly as the
Tideturner
entered the mist. “There’ll be a lot going on this very morning. We’re nearly there.”

The ship passed through the murky vapors and emerged from the fog a few moments later, to be greeted by clear skies and gentle waves. The only creatures in sight were the dolphins splashing about off the starboard bow. “What did I tell you?” Verrick said. “Out of season.” He patted Ronan on the back and continued making his rounds, checking up on the ship and his crew.

Ronan stared out at the sparkling blue water, dumbstruck. He couldn’t believe the ocean wasn’t churning about, black as tar. Dean put a foot up on the bowsprit and looked out on the waves with hope. “Just admit it’s possible, Ronan. It’s possible the island’s out there.”

Ronan scoffed at Dean’s buoyant attitude. “You sound like every other swab who got himself drowned chasing golden trees.”

“Maybe so. But I’ve got my sights set on bigger things than gold.”

“And what might that be, pray tell? You think you’re going to end up a prince and call a castle your home?” Ronan had a good laugh at Dean’s expense. “If that’s what you’re after, you’re a bigger fool than I thought.”

Dean took a moment to reflect on Ronan’s dream scenario. That’s all it was. A dream. It would have been nice to have a home and actually belong somewhere for a change, but Dean hadn’t set his sights quite that high. He stepped back down to Ronan’s level. “You know better than that, Ronan. I’m not a fool any more than I am a prince. And I’m not a saint, either. I’m here to get free.
Mark my words, I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

Before Ronan could say anything in reply, Rook jumped down to the deck and wedged himself between them. “Look there!” He pointed out across the horizon. “Is that what I think it is?”

Ronan cast his eyes out across the waves and froze when he saw it. “Blow me down and pick me up,” he said, pulling his bandanna from his brow.

“Let me have a look!” Dean pushed Ronan and Rook out of his way and searched the sea. His heart sped up as a tiny island came into view, far off in the distance. “I don’t believe it.”

“Don’t ya?” Rook asked, elbowing Dean in the side. “Whatever it takes, Seaborne … that’s what you said. Yer gonna get the chance to prove it.”

CHAPTER
12
T
HE
R
ETURN

G
ather ’round, lads! Gather ’round. I’ve been waiting thirteen years to fly these colors.”

Verrick took out a bright blue flag and held it for all to see. A mighty cheer rose up from the crew, and Verrick tossed the flag to the nearest sailor. Dean watched as a man with bushy blond sideburns snatched it from the air and scampered up the mast, light as a feather.

“Is that the flag of Zenhala?” Ronan asked as the man raised the banner high above the sails. It was a striking shade of blue, emblazoned with the same mark that was branded on Dean’s arm.

“It’s not a flag at all,” Verrick said. “It’s Zenhala’s Royal Standard, hoisted only to note the presence of a monarch.”

Ronan came up behind Dean. “That’s you, don’t forget.” He gave a mock bow. “Your Majesty.”

A horn sounded in the distance, startling Dean. Its clarion call rang out far and wide, cutting across the waves in every direction. Dean leaned out over the gunwale and put a hand to his ear. It was coming from the island. He heard the horn sound again, and something else besides. People cheering … for him. A whole island full of people were making their voices heard.

Dean ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t believe this.”

Verrick laughed out loud. “You keep saying that. Can I ask what it was you expected to find?”

Dean looked up at Verrick. “I don’t think I expected anything. I merely hoped.”

Verrick’s smile could not be contained. “That makes two of us, Your Grace. Today, at last, my hopes have been fulfilled.”

Verrick bowed his head and returned to the helm. Dean stayed at the railing to marvel at the view. Rook and Ronan stood on either side of him as the
Tideturner
flew across the sparkling water. The ocean around Zenhala was bluer than anything Dean had ever seen. Vivid shades of deep turquoise water contrasted with radiant shallow patches where the sea all but glowed. Alternating streaks of brilliant blue liquid surrounded the island like a seascape painted by an artist. Indeed, the whole island looked like something out of a painting. Lush green mountains with majestic waterfalls rose up behind pristine beaches covered
with sand like crushed ivory. There was a rocky harbor with a stone-built dock, and the buildings of the port town were cast in a vibrant array of pastel colors. Bright, happy houses were packed in tight on the bayside rocks and scattered across the face of the large mountains to their north. The kingdom had a thriving population, and in the center of it all, an opulent white palace sat high atop a hill. There was no doubting it now. The Golden Isle of Zenhala was not only real. It was breathtaking.

“It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” Dean said. “It looks like paradise.”

Rook raised an eyebrow. “Who’s to say it ain’t?”

Ronan snickered. “Don’t get your hopes up, Rook. They won’t be letting the likes of you into paradise.”

Rook reached over Dean to give Ronan a shove. “You self-righteous toerag. I’ll make you eat them words!”

Ronan shoved Rook back. “Don’t you put your hands on me again. You’ll get them back with fingers missing next time.”

“Enough!” Dean said, pushing them both apart. “Are you two
trying
to sabotage us?” Dean looked around the ship. Ronan and Rook’s quarrel had drawn the attention of the crew. Again. “Unbelievable, the pair of you! We’re this close to our goal, and still you can’t control yourselves!” Dean spat on the deck. They were going to arouse suspicion if they kept fighting like this. As the only member of the group with any experience as a spy, it was up to him to set Ronan and Rook straight. He pulled them in close
and spoke firmly. “This petty squabbling ends now, understand? This is no vacation we’re on. It’s business and we have parts to play. Get in character. We’re all close friends here, savvy? I just found out I’m a prince. Heir to the greatest fortune in all the Caribbean. You two half-wits are here to protect me like the good friends you are. You’re not here to meddle with each other, or with me.” Dean leaned in close to Ronan. “Can you remember that?”

Ronan pouted. He was older than Dean and didn’t seem to appreciate being bossed around by him, but it was obvious to all that Dean was the expert here. At least when it came to spying. “What do you know about how friends treat each other?”

“I’ll fake it,” Dean shot back. He poked Ronan in the chest. “If you want to bring One-Eyed Jack back the golden harvest, you’ll do the same. Got it?”

Sufficiently chastened, Dean’s partners in crime each gave a cursory nod and backed away. Dean took a deep breath, wondering if the two of them had the chops to pull this off. He wasn’t worried about himself. All he ever did was fake who he was, so he was used to this sort of thing. Ronan and Rook were new to the spy game, and they were getting thrown into the deep end on their first time out. The very deep end. As the ship pulled into the port of Zenhala, Dean realized that the magnitude of this mission dwarfed all his past experience. A crowd had gathered at the edge of the dock. People who had been swimming on the beach, fishing in boats, or riding over waves on long wooden boards had
all stopped what they were doing to watch the
Tideturner
come in. One pretty young surf rider caught Dean’s eye as she passed. She stared up at him a little too long and nearly crashed into a fisherman’s skiff. Dean hoped she was all right. The waters around the ship were filling up fast. Even up on the ship, Dean started to feel claustrophobic. It wasn’t just the number of people that irked him, it was the level of adoration they poured his way. They were paddling out to meet the boat, excited beyond belief. People waved at Dean and embraced each other, bobbing up and down with tears in their eyes. Everyone was thrilled just to get a look at him. It was as if their wildest dreams had all come true.

Verrick motioned for Dean to join him at the wheel of the ship. “I told you the people would rejoice.”

“You spoke the truth,” said Dean. The frenzied display of affection boggled his mind. “This is crazy. They don’t even know me.”

“They know that you’re their prince.” Verrick pointed to the Royal Standard. “That’s all they need to know.”

Verrick took the boat in, and Dean looked down at the teeming masses that had assembled on the dock. The crew tied off the ship, and half the men on board jumped out to make way for the landing party. Dean’s presence on the ship made it a royal party, which meant precautions had to be taken. Verrick’s men formed a human barricade as the people of Zenhala stood on their tiptoes trying to get a look at Dean and reach out for
the chance to touch him. The walk from the ship was a dizzying experience for Dean. He tugged at his collar. Never before had he impersonated anyone of such stature. Never had he drawn such attention to himself on a mission. A horse-drawn carriage with gilded trimmings pulled up to the end of the dock. Dean knew it could have only one destination. That’s when another “never before” occurred to him. He had never before pretended to be someone’s long-lost son.

“The carriage will take us to the palace,” Verrick explained. “I’m sure you’d like to spend a few moments with your subjects here, but we haven’t the time to spare. There are people who mustn’t be kept waiting.”

Dean gulped. “The king?” The more he thought about it, the more he dreaded what came next. Some things never changed. For all his skill as a spy, he had one glaring weakness—a conscience. He didn’t relish the thought of conning a teary-eyed father into thinking he had his son back. Not when he was there only to take his money and run.

Verrick adopted a somber tone. “I’m afraid your father was gone as well. They say he died of a broken heart, soon after your mother was lost.”

Dean stopped walking and leaned on Verrick’s arm for support. He made the requisite show of emotion, looking sad and disappointed, but in his heart he was overcome with relief. “Who are we meeting, then? Who rules the kingdom?”

“The lord regent Waverland Kray. For the last ten years, he has been the steward of Zenhala and protector of the throne. He has served the kingdom well, awaiting your glorious return.”

“Is he a good man, this Kray?” Ronan piped up behind Dean, hustling to keep pace with the group as they moved through the crowd.

Verrick seemed surprised by the question. “Lord Kray is as noble as the day is long.”

“Is that long enough? The sun sets every day too, if I’m not mistaken.”

Verrick’s eyes narrowed. “What are you driving at?”

“I’m just saying”—Ronan waved toward the picturesque port town and stately mountains above—“it’s a fair kingdom you have here. For more than a decade, this lord regent’s been a king in all but the name. What if he doesn’t want to give up the throne to my good friend here?” Ronan took Dean by the shoulder and gave him a hearty shake. Dean winced at the strength of Ronan’s grip, but he appreciated his insight. He was showing his worth nicely after all that knuckleheaded bickering with Rook. Dean knew Ronan was a sharp one. He just had to keep his temper in check.

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