The Phantom (24 page)

Then a strange thing happened—strange even for the Phantom. He was still clinging to the chain, his body going one way but his mind shooting off in another. In an instant, he cut through water, and then through rock and dirt, and he found himself, at least a part of himself, back in the pirate’s chamber.

Why was he here?

“To witness the end,” a voice said, and he sensed his father next to him.

The Phantom saw the pirates finally working their way free of the net. The ugly one with the scarred face slid down the mast and dropped to the floor. As soon as his feet touched down, a deep rumbling erupted somewhere beneath him. It grew louder and louder. The walls began to shake like a living thing in pain. Then a massive ball of fire burst into the pirates’ chamber from the passageway connected to the torpedo chamber.

“Oh, oh!” the ugly pirate said, and that was all he said.

The ball of fire engulfed the chamber and ignited dozens of barrels of gunpowder. They exploded with such force that the cavern wall split open and the sea rushed in.

Nearly a mile away, the torpedo surfaced and bobbed on calm waters. The Phantom broke the surface, too, and the moment he did, mind and body were united. He took in a deep gulp of air.

“Don’t think I missed anything on this end,” he said, and started swimming toward the floating torpedo. He worked his way along the torpedo to the panel. He unlocked it and slid the panel open.

“End of the line, ladies,” he called down. “We swim from here.”

Diana and Sala sat up, blinking against the bright daylight. Sala glanced slowly around, as though she couldn’t quite believe they had made it and she was still alive. Diana threw her arms around the Phantom’s neck.

In the distance, the fog-shrouded volcanic island was barely visible. Then the volcano erupted, spewing fire and debris high into the sky. The Phantom, Diana, and Sala watched in awe as the massive daytime fireworks display unfolded.

“Glad I’m not back there still,” Sala said in a soft voice, then added: “Glad you guys aren’t either.”

Then a series of explosions blew off pieces of the island as if a great hammer wielded by a god were striking it. What remained—a craggy plain of dead rock and ash, fire and smoke—sank slowly beneath the waves.

“Look!” Diana pointed skyward.

The Sengh Brotherhood spider-web symbol appeared in the sky, formed by red smoke. Slowly it faded and dissolved, and as it did, the Phantom recalled the story of a boy who saw his father killed by pirates four hundred years ago and vowed to fight piracy.

Then his thoughts were interrupted as he saw an enormous wall of water rolling their way. “A tidal wave,” he shouted. “Move over, I’m getting in there.”

“You can’t, there’s no room,” Diana said.

“We’ll just have to make room.”

The three of them squeezed into the torpedo. It was a tight fit, but the Phantom somehow managed to slide the panel shut. And just in time. A massive wall of water slammed against the torpedo, picking it up as a thunderous roar surrounded them. They tumbled over and over in a wild, tumultuous explosion of movement. Then the torpedo began to rise and the waved lifted them up fifty feet or more until they rocketed along its crest.

Later, none of them would know exactly how long or how far they traveled on the wave. They were finally deposited on an inhabited island three hundred feet inland. Several kids pulled open the panel and ran when they saw the Phantom. No doubt a new legend of a strange sea monster was started that day on the island.

TWENTY-NINE

S
he felt as if she were living in a fairy tale as she listened to the Phantom tell his story in the Chronicle Room deep inside Skull Cave. They were sitting at a long table with a large leather-bound book open in front of them. Its yellowed pages, like all the books here, were filled with stories, all written in longhand.

Three months ago, Diana would not have believed that someone like the Phantom even existed. Masked heroes living in caves were characters from the world of fantasy. But now she not only believed it, she was hopelessly in love with this strange man.

After they had survived their escape from the Sengh Brotherhood’s underground den, they’d found themselves on the remote Caribbean island of Providencia. Diana had wanted to return to Deep Woods with the Phantom, but he’d convinced her that she should go home and let her family know that she was all right. So she and Sala had hopped a ferry to the island of San Andres, returned to New York, and gone their own ways.

A few days later, a letter from the Phantom arrived with a plane ticket to Bangalla enclosed. Diana had flown to Zavia and was met by Guran, who had escorted her into the jungle. After they’d crossed into Deep Woods, Devil had raced up to meet them, and then the Phantom had appeared atop Hero.

For the past three days, she and the Phantom had explored the forest and the beach, and her life had been idyllic. But she’d kept asking the Phantom to give her a better explanation of who he was. Finally this morning he had taken her into the Chronicle Room for the first time.

She frowned as the Phantom finished telling the tale of the little boy who had survived a massacre by pirates. “Over the decades and centuries, folks of the jungle, the city, and the sea began to whisper that there was a man who could not die, a phantom, a ghost who walks.”

“That was a long time ago,” she said. “You’re not going to tell me that little boy was you, are you?”

“No. Of course not. How could that be? That would make me over four hundred years old.” He closed the heavy book in which the first chronicles were recorded. “That boy became the first Phantom. I’m his descendant, Diana, and like him I pledged to carry out his oath to fight crime and piracy.”

She looked at the skull ring on his finger. “But is that the same ring as the one the shaman gave the boy during the ceremony?”

“Yes, each boy who is to become the Phantom is given the skull ring at the age of sixteen. But he can’t wear it until he really is the Phantom. Then he gives it to his first son when he reaches sixteen.”

“So when your dad died, you put on the ring.” She thought a moment. “Does that mean all the Phantoms are killed before their sons take over?”

He shook his head. “No. Some, but not many, have survived their encounters with evil and turned over their mantle to their sons. Eventually they retired to this very chamber to write down their stories and the stories of their ancestors.”

The Phantom picked up the gun belt that he’d recovered from Quill and walked over to a wall that was covered with weapons, some dating back four hundred years. “Twenty Phantoms came before me.”

The Phantom hung his father’s gun belt on the last peg. “I’m not immortal, Diana. I was born right here in this cave, and I was educated in America. When my father was killed, I came back to take his place.”

Educated in America: that was just as she’d suspected. “And one day your own son will take your place, right?”

“Yes.” The Phantom cleared his throat. He looked uncomfortable. But she pursued the matter, anyway.

“Where did all these Phantoms find their wives?” she asked.

He didn’t hesitate to answer. “They found them in many places. One married a reigning queen, one a princess, another a beautiful red-haired barmaid. They all came back to live here in this strange, wonderful place.”

“And did these wives know what he looked like?” she persisted.

“Yes, only the wife and their children could see his face.”

A brief, awkward silence followed as Diana stared at him; she waited to see if he had anything further to say about the matter. Then Guran entered the room, taking the Phantom off the spot.

“The plane for Miss Palmer is waiting, Ghost Who Walks.”

“Thank you, Guran,” the Phantom said.

Guran nodded and left.

“Does Guran know the truth about you, that you’re not immortal?”

“Oh, sure. He just likes to call me that.” He paused. “Ghost Who Walks. It has kind of a nice ring to it.”

Diana smiled, then bent down to ruffle Devil’s fur. “Good-bye, Devil. Take good care of your master.” She stood up, and looked at the Phantom. “I better go.”

There was definitely something enjoyable about riding Hero with Diana in front of him, one hand on the reins, the other around her waist. He liked it, he decided. Liked it a lot. He didn’t want her to leave Deep Woods, but he didn’t want to push her into making a hasty decision, either. Life in the Bangalla jungle, after all, was a far cry from Diana’s New York City. He wanted to give her time to think it over before he proposed anything to her.

He reined Hero to a halt and dismounted with Diana. “Where are we?” she asked.

“This way.”

They took a few steps through the jungle, pushed through the lush tropical growth, and stopped at the top of a slope as the foliage gave way to a beautiful beach. Just offshore a seaplane was docked and a pilot, dressed in flight gear, stood on the beach, looking out to sea.

“Hey there!” the Phantom called.

The pilot turned and waved.

“It’s Sala!” Diana shouted, and waved back.

“I guess I couldn’t stay away,” Sala yelled.

“I’ll be right there,” Diana called down to her.

Then she turned to the Phantom. He didn’t know what to say to her. He didn’t want any pledges of loyalty or promises of any kind. Not yet. Still, he wanted to make it clear to her how he felt and what he ultimately wanted.

“Before I go, take off your mask,” Diana said. “Let me see your face . . . Kit.”

So she knew, he thought. He had often wondered if she’d guessed. Turning his back to the beach, he pulled off the mask.

Diana smiled. “Hi, Kit.”

“How long have you known?” he asked.

“Well, I suspected ever since New York when you, Kit, disappeared about the same time you, Phantom, arrived. But then there wasn’t a whole lot of time to think about it, was there?”

“I guess not. You know, I’m not really permitted to reveal all these secrets, Diana.”

“You’re not?”

“Well, actually, I am. But to only one person,” the Phantom explained.

“Who is that?”

“The woman I intend to marry.”

“Oh, the woman you
intend
to marry?” Diana smiled. “But what if she refuses you?”

“Nobody refuses the Phantom.”

“I suppose that’s another one of those ‘old jungle sayings.’ ”

“No. I just made it up.”

She laughed and so did he.

Then he reached out, took her in his arms, and kissed her. It was a long, slow-building kiss that held the promise of much more to come. After they parted, they held each other’s gaze for a long moment. Then Diana stepped away, still staring into the Phantom’s unmasked eyes.

She turned and walked unsteadily down the slope toward the lagoon and the seaplane that would take her back to New York. The Phantom waited on the top of the slope as Diana and Sala paddled a raft out to the seaplane. He watched as they boarded the plane and then taxied away. As the seaplane took off, he replaced his mask and mounted Hero. He reined the stallion around and trotted back into the jungle.

As the seaplane skimmed over the treetops of the lush jungle, Sala turned to Diana and yelled over the sound of the roaring engine and the rushing wind. “Why don’t you stay?”

“Uncle Dave and I have some unfinished business with the police commissioner.”

She also had to get her life in order, to prepare for a long stay in a far-off place with the man she loved. She couldn’t wait.

Sala nodded. “You’ll be back.”

Diana didn’t reply, but she wore a wistful expression. Maybe in a month, she thought. If she could wait a month.

Maybe two weeks.

Sala pulled back on the yoke and the plane began to gain altitude. She tilted the right wing downward. “Look out your window, Diana!” Sala yelled.

The Phantom galloped to the top of a hill and was highlighted in the orange rays of the setting sun. Hero reared up on his hind legs as if to salute the departing plane. Then the Phantom rode off, disappearing into the jungle.

Table of Contents

CONTENTS

THE PHANTOM

FROM THE CHRONICLES: HOW IT ALL BEGAN

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR HUNDRED YEARS LATER

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY