The Phantom (22 page)

He was dressed in a loose-fitting black silk outfit. He wore a short goatee and a gold medallion bearing the spider-web insignia around his neck. His face showed no emotion. He looked neither pleased nor angry at their arrival, but his gaze sent cold licks along her spine.

All around him were relics, no doubt his favorite booty, and prominent among them was a life-sized gold skull, which rested on a pedestal within his reach. Without a doubt, Diana thought, it was the third skull of Touganda, the treasured artifact of power. She glanced at Drax and saw that he couldn’t take his eyes off the glimmering skull. If he knew the man seated on the throne, he gave no indication of it.

“Visitors!” the man said, stroking his chin. “Now let me see, how long has it been since we’ve had visitors down here, thirty fathoms beneath the ocean’s surface . . . in the bowels of this uncharted volcanic island?”

A beat passed before he answered his own question. “Never! Congratulations! You pathetic doomed fools are the first.”

TWENTY-SIX

T
he laughter of the man on the throne echoed through the chamber as the Phantom darted across the bridge unnoticed. He moved ahead, skulking from one pile of loot to another.

These guys needed a housekeeper, he thought. The place was in more disarray than his Treasure Chamber. There was also a lot of junk mixed in with the loot, broken chairs and tables, pieces of steamer trunks and boats, even a rusted airplane propeller.

When he was within a hundred feet of the throne, he ducked behind a pile of rope at the base of a rigging that reached the ceiling. The Sengh Brotherhood banner stretched across a wall behind the throne. Now he knew for certain that he had finally found their stronghold.

He wanted to get a closer vantage point and remain out of view, so he carefully climbed a rigging. When he was near the top, he leaped onto a ledge thirty feet above the floor. He crept forward until he was directly to the side of the throne, which was twenty feet below him. He crouched down in the shadows beyond the illumination of the torches. He could see and hear everything, but was invisible, he believed, to the pirates and their captives.

Ever since one of his ancestors had destroyed the Sengh castle on Bangalla, the line of Phantoms had hunted for the new headquarters. But they had never come to this part of the world. There was something here that had served to protect the Brotherhood over the centuries, and now the Phantom knew what it was. The gold skull.

It glinted in the light of the torches and seemed to possess an illumination of its own. It had the same strange, alien beauty as the other two skulls, the Phantom thought, and mesmerized him.

“Congratulations, Kit.” His father was suddenly sitting on the ledge next to him. “You’ve hit the mother lode! You’ve found the secret hideout of the Sengh Brotherhood.”

He nodded and spoke softly. “I figured as much.”

His father was elated. “I could hug you, my boy,” and he did exactly that, his ghostly arms wrapping around the Phantom’s shoulders as though they were solid. It was an eerie sensation and yet firm enough to seem real.

The elder Walker peered down into the chamber, taking in the entire scene. His tone shifted now from elation to concern. “You’re outnumbered, son.”

Like he hadn’t already figured that out.

Sometimes, Kit thought, his father was more annoying than he was helpful. The Phantom focused his attention on the man who occupied the throne, the nefarious leader of the Brotherhood.

It had been a long time since the two of them had seen each other. But as far as the Phantom was concerned, it wasn’t long enough. He despised the man so deeply he couldn’t even bring himself to utter his name aloud.

He watched as his nemesis motioned to the bald pirate. “Who are these people?”

Before the pirate could speak, Drax stepped forward. “My name is Xander Drax.”

He’d decided the best way of dealing with this little despot was to play his game. Give him some respect, as if he was actually impressed. Make him think that he, Drax, felt subservient to his highness on the wooden throne.

“What?”

Obviously this fellow didn’t keep up on current affairs in America or he would’ve reacted in a little less ignorant manner. “X-A-N-D-E-R D-R-A-X,” he said, spelling it out. Not that it would help if this tyrant was as illiterate as Drax suspected. “Xander Drax. Begins and ends with the letter X.” He raised his chin. “From New York City. And you, sir . . . as long as we’re making introductions and polite chitchat—”

“He’s the Great Kabai Sengh!” snapped the big, bald pirate. “The supreme leader of the Sengh.”

“Direct descendant of the Evil Kabai Sengh, the first leader of the Sengh Brotherhood,” Sengh added.

Diana leaned toward Sala. “If this guy’s the great one, imagine what the evil one was like.”

Drax turned to Quill. “So, you weren’t kidding, these guys are really around. How do you like that?”

“Stop the whispering!” Sengh commanded. “You’re a long way from New York. How did you find this place?”

“I’ll show you,” Drax said.

For the grand finale, he would zing old Sengh. He set his satchel on the floor, and as he reached inside of it, two pirates raised their weapons. But Kabai Sengh motioned them to lower their pistols when Drax lifted out two skulls, one in each hand.

Holding them up for inspection, “These skulls brought me here,” he declared. “The Skulls of Touganda!”

Sengh looked genuinely startled. “How do you know of such matters?” he hissed.

“Oh, I know all about these skulls.” Let him mull that one over. “And the powers they contain—once all three are united: the two I hold, and the one you have there.”

Kabai Sengh glanced at his gold skull. “I am the one who will bring them together.”

Drax took another step closer to Sengh. It was time to straighten the old fellow out. Sengh was far from frail, but he wasn’t exactly robust, either. Drax guessed he could overcome the Sengh leader and use him as a hostage to get his way. But he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He preferred negotiation to strong-arm tactics, at least as long as the negotiations were working in his favor.

“Look, Great One. I really wasn’t in the market for a partner, but it seems to me we have a mutually beneficial situation here.”

He paused to let Sengh consider his words before he continued. “Think of it this way: you represent the old guard of the grizzled scalawags and Peg-Leg Petes, while I stand for the new order of things—modern and up to date. Just the man to carry our cause onward into the twentieth century.”

“Silence! You have no bargaining power with me, Mr. New York City! I could kill you, all of you, right now, and feed your pretty pink carcasses to the sharks!”

Drax realized that negotiations weren’t going to work. He needed to take Sengh hostage, and fast. But before he could act, Sengh threw him off balance with a single comment. “Besides, Mr. Drax, you don’t have the fourth skull.”

“The fourth skull? What fourth skull? What are you talking about? There is no fourth skull,”

“Yes, there is,” Sengh replied, and smiled for the first time since they’d entered the stronghold.

The Phantom leaned forward so far he nearly fell off the ledge. Perplexed by this new development, he turned to his father and whispered, “Dad, what do you know about this fourth skull?”

He shrugged. “It’s news to me.”

It was a trick, Drax thought. “No, there’s not. There can’t be. I’ve studied it.”

“And I’ve lived it.” He crossed his arms. “Burned ships and villages. Plunged my saber into flesh and bone. Bathed in the blood of my victims. Feasted on their pain and misery. Danced to their screams of agony.” He grinned, his filthy teeth lining up in his mouth like a stained picket fence. “And I’ve relished every minute of it.”

Drax glanced at Zephro. “What a bunch of phony pirate crap.”

“Trust me,” Sengh said. “The fourth skull controls the power of the three. Without it, you have wasted your time . . . and your lives.”

Sengh signaled his men to dispatch the captives. Guns and sabers were suddenly pointed at them as if the men lived to spill blood.

“Wait a minute!” Drax shouted. Once again, he was ready to negotiate. “If anything happens to us, others will come looking. They know where we are. You’ll have an entire army down your throat. Think about that before you slaughter us.”

But Charlie Zephro had other ideas. He pulled a pistol from an ankle holster and aimed it at Kabai Sengh. “That’s a lie. Nobody knows where we are.”

“What’re you doing?” Drax shouted.

“Shut up! Spirit of adventure, ha! It’s every man for himself now.” He turned to Sengh. “Okay, Kabai, now it’s time to sing a different tune. Get me outta here or you
really
sleep with the fishes. What have you got to say about that?”

Sengh reacted calmly.
“Shin nebo.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zephro asked.

“Oh, it’s just ancient pirate talk for . . . ‘fire the cannon.’ ”

Zephro looked around. “Huh?”

Suddenly he realized that a cannon was pointed directly at him, and the fuse was lit.

As large as the cavern was, the sound of well-wadded and packed gunpowder exploding filled it easily, rippling the stolen standards and even bending the crooked masts.

The small cannon ball whistled through the air and hit Charlie squarely in the gut. The impact was so powerful, he was knocked all the way to the wall, where he crumpled like a lowered flag.

“You see what I mean, Mr. Drax, about your bargaining power here?” Sengh said.

For once, Drax didn’t know what to say.

The blast of the cannon must have caused something to click inside the Phantom’s head. He snapped his fingers. “Dad, I know where the fourth skull is.”

“You do? Where?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he leaped from his hiding place to the rigging and climbed out over the floor of the chamber.

Diana was stunned by the swift justice Sengh had served upon Zephro. Never mind that the thug deserved whatever was coming to him. Never mind that at all. The point was that whatever plea she might put forward about her own case—that she was a captive herself and had nothing whatsoever to do with this plot—wouldn’t make a difference.

Sengh couldn’t care less about who or what she was. Drawing attention to herself would end her life as suddenly as it had ended Zephro’s.

But Quill had other ideas. “I am Quill, Great Kabai Sengh. A loyal follower and soldier. Look . . .” He pointed to his belt. “I killed the Phantom.”

“You killed the Phantom?” Sengh said.

“Yes, Kabai Sengh.”

He laughed. “Well, join the club. Many of us have killed the Phantom over the years. But he just doesn’t go away!”

Diana looked up and saw the Phantom climbing in the rigging directly overhead. “You can say that again,” she murmured. Sala, who was standing next to her, followed her gaze. The Phantom motioned for them to remain quiet.

The two women glanced at each other in astonishment, then Sala pointed at the floor. “Oh, Diana, you dropped your pearl necklace there on the floor.”

Diana realized that Sala was attempting to divert the attention of anyone who might have noticed them looking up. She immediately dropped to one knee, scooped a hand through the shadows, then adjusted the necklace on her throat. “Thanks. I didn’t realize I’d dropped it.”

Quill shook his head. “I can’t believe that’s all you’re worried about.”

“What do you know?” Sala snapped.

“More than you’ll ever figure out,” Quill snapped back.

“Shut up, both of you,” Drax said.

Sala glared at him. “Don’t tell me to shut up, you arrogant bully.”

Drax just smiled and said, ‘ ‘Hey, Kabai, I can see this Phantom thing really strikes a nerve. In that case, you’re gonna love this.” He pointed at Diana. “She’s his girlfriend.”

“Great,” Diana muttered.

“Bring her here!” Sengh ordered.

TWENTY-SEVEN

D
iana struggled as several pirates dragged her forward to Kabai Sengh. She didn’t like being used as a bargaining tool. Nor did she like the way Sengh eyed her, as though she would soon be another trophy to have on his throne.

“Think of the opportunities this presents, Kabai Sengh,” Drax boasted. “Ransom . . . bait . . . revenge. It’s wonderful.”

Diana glared at him.
Yes, just wonderful,
she thought. She didn’t know which of the two men she despised more—Drax or Sengh.

“The Phantom’s got good taste,” Sengh said, looking her over.

“Ah, good! I overlooked that one—personal pleasure!” Drax nodded, approving Sengh’s lusty thoughts, “So, waddaya say, Kabai Sengh? The girl for the skull and I’m outta your hair.”

Sengh reached out to touch Diana’s face, but she slapped his hand, pushing him away. “You pirates need to get out more.”

Enraged by her rejection, he leaped to his feet and drew a saber from beside the throne. For a moment, she was sure he intended to cut her head off. But he was interrupted by a shout from above.

“Kabai Sengh!” hollered the Phantom from the top of the mast.

Sengh’s head dropped back. “Phantom!” Sengh grunted.

“Fancy seeing you here, Sengh.”

The Phantom grabbed a rope, swung down from the mast, and collided with Sengh, who tumbled off the platform. Pandemonium erupted and the pirates rushed to the throne, shouting and waving their swords. The Phantom pulled out both of his pistols and fired at the attackers. Sabers and guns flew from the hands of several, while many others hit the floor.

One pirate grabbed him around the neck from behind. The Phantom jammed his elbow back hard, smashing the assailant in the nose. Another one lunged at him and the Phantom introduced his jaw to the butt of his pistol. Both men slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Amid the uproar, Drax was moving stealthily toward the gold skull. Holstering his pistols, the Phantom darted over to it and scooped it away from him. At the same moment, a pirate took a swing at the Phantom, who ducked, and the punch struck Drax.

Kabai Sengh was back on his feet. He charged the Phantom, brandishing his saber, waving it through the air. “Ghost Who Walks, huh? I’ll cut you off at the knees! You won’t be walking after that!”