بخش 04

CHAPTER 6

THE DARKEST WAY

AS THE LAST VESTIGES OF DAY gave way to night, the sea and sky thickened into a paste of grayish black. Le Fantome glided into a small bay, and its crew lowered the anchor, easing it into the water as quietly as possible. Some flying fish leaped and glided, silhouetted against the disappearing horizon as the eerie cries of monkeys rose from the vast, formless jungle.

Nerezza, standing with Slank on the quarterdeck, said, “It’ll be as dark as the inside of a whale in a few minutes. I’d best alert our guest.”

The plan they’d settled on was a simple one. Coming into the bay, they’d spotted a tendril of smoke rising from the island; that was their target. They’d row ashore, two boatloads of armed men—brutal men; handpicked fighters—and search out this camp. If the boy wasn’t there, whoever was in the camp would likely know where he was on an island this small. And the boy would know where to find the starstuff. And the starstuff was why they’d come.

Slank assumed the camp belonged to the pirates he’d left on the island—the pirates he’d defeated, before he in turn was defeated by the boy, and those hideous demon she-fish.

But it didn’t matter whose camp it was. Anybody—or any thing—who got in their way would be no match for Nerezza’s raiders and their…guest. If the starstuff was on the island, they would have it.

Slank tried not to think about what could happen to him if the starstuff wasn’t on the island.

It has to be here, he told himself. It has to be.

The men were lowering the boats now. Slank eyed the dark water; his face betrayed the apprehension he felt.

“What is it?” sneered Nerezza. “Afraid of the fishes, are you?”

“I ain’t afraid,” snapped Slank. “But I ain’t eager to meet up with them she-fish again.” He shuddered, remembering when he had last been there, remembering the feel of the mermaids’ teeth sinking into him, recalling his blood clouding the water.

Nerezza, who wasn’t sure he believed in these she-fish, coughed out a laugh. It wasn’t natural, coming from him; it sounded a bit painful. He pointed to the darkened companionway. “There’s no fish—no creature alive—can possibly match our dark friend down there,” he said. “Nothing on that island, neither.”

Slank looked back to the island. He figured it to be about two miles to the smoke if they went along the shore; far shorter if they cut directly across the island. Slank wanted to take the coast—he didn’t care to be in the jungle at night, not on this island—but Nerezza overruled him.

“We’ll set off through the jungle,” Nerezza said. “Not only for the sake of speed, but for the sake of darkness. Our guest don’t want no light whatsoever. We go the darkest way.”

“No light? How do we find the way?”

“That ain’t up to us,” said Nerezza. “Our guest leads, and we follow. Mark my words, Mister Slank, there’s only one man in command once we reach that shore. And it ain’t you. And it ain’t me.”

And it ain’t a man, thought Slank. CHAPTER 7

AN ALLY

“SO,” SAID FIGHTING PRAWN. “You got your friend into trouble.”

The Mollusk chief looked at Peter with piercing dark eyes, made all the blacker by their contrast with Fighting Prawn’s flowing, snow-white hair.

“But it’s not my fault!” said Peter, panting, still out of breath from his frantic flight back across the mountain to the Mollusk compound. “James followed me to the pirates! I told him not to, but…”

Peter’s tongue was stilled by Fighting Prawn’s stern stare, a look so disconcerting that Peter had to turn away.

“He followed you,” the chief said, “because he wanted to join in your game. Because you boasted about how much fun you were having taunting the pirates. Isn’t that right?”

Peter, still looking away, nodded. He was grateful that Tinker Bell, for once, was silent, though she listened with approval to the lecture as she perched on Peter’s shoulder.

“What have I told you about taunting the pirates?” said Fighting Prawn. “What have I told you a dozen times and more?”

“It’s foolish,” Peter answered softly. “And dangerous.”

“That’s right,” said Fighting Prawn. “It’s a misuse of the gifts you’ve been given. I can protect you on this side of the island; the captain won’t come for you here. But on the other side, you’ve got the captain and his men, any of whom would be happy to slit your throat. And you’ve got Mister Grin running loose, with a taste for human flesh. There’s no reason to go over there except to look for trouble. But you chose to look for it. And now you’ve found it.”

Peter’s lip quivered. A tear slid down his cheek; Tink reached out and gently wiped it away.

“Listen, boy,” said Fighting Prawn, his voice softer now. “You have a good heart. You have great courage. You fought the pirate. You saved my life. For that you will always have my friendship and protection. But you’re still a boy, and you must learn to become a man.”

Peter looked up, about to say something; then he closed his mouth, thinking better of it.

“I know,” said Fighting Prawn. “Because of the change in you”—he pointed to the golden locket that hung at Peter’s throat—“you will never grow old. You will always have the body of a boy. But in here”—now Fighting Prawn touched Peter’s forehead—“in your mind, you must become a man, because the other boys need you. You are their leader. They trust you. You must become worthy of their trust.”

“But it’s too late,” said Peter, a flood of tears welling from his eyes now, streaming down his cheeks. “I’ve let them down. Hook has James. He’ll kill him if I don’t surrender myself.”

“You do,” said Fighting Prawn, “and he’ll kill you.”

“But it’s my fault. You said so yourself. It’s my fault.” He looked down, sobbing, his tears spattering the dusty ground. Tink fluttered down and caught one in midair. In her hand, it turned into a tiny diamond. She showed it to Peter; ordinarily, a trick like this would have delighted him. But now he only shook his head.

Fighting Prawn put a comforting hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“All right, boy,” he said. “We will see what we can do to get your friend back.” He glanced toward a small group of Mollusk warriors who stood a respectful distance away, watching. With a tiny movement of his head, he summoned them over.

Peter looked up. “Are you going to attack the pirates?” he asked. “Because Hook says he’ll kill James if you do.”

“I’m sure he would,” said Fighting Prawn. “I’m sure he means to kill him anyway.”

“But,” said Peter, “he said you could send two savag—I mean, warriors—and they could bring James back.”

Fighting Prawn smiled a thin, mirthless smile. “He means to kill the savages, too,” he said. “He’ll have men hidden nearby. The instant he has you in hand, you’re all dead.”

“So what can we do?” said Peter.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” said Fighting Prawn. “Can you possibly fly your friend out?”

“No,” said Peter. “Hook says he won’t let go of James until he can grab me. And even if James and I were both free, I’m not sure I can lift him. I’ve tried flying him before, and I usually go all wobbly and come right back down.”

Fighting Prawn pondered for a moment, then said: “You say Hook told you to surrender yourself next to the spring?”

“Yes,” said Peter. “The spring at the edge of the clearing.”

“I see,” said Fighting Prawn thoughtfully. He turned and said something to one of the warriors in the Mollusk language—a mixture of grunts and clicks, sounding very odd to the English ear. It always sounded especially odd to Peter when Fighting Prawn spoke it; he was accustomed to the Mollusk chief’s impeccable English, learned from his years as a forced laborer aboard British navy ships.

The Mollusk warrior answered Fighting Prawn at some length, Fighting Prawn listening intently. After another brief exchange, he turned to Peter.

“Just as I thought,” he said. “That spring rises from a cavern. There’s a tunnel leading to the cavern underground—a tunnel just wide enough for a person to fit through. But it’s a long way from the spring to the tunnel mouth. A very long way. And it’s all under water.”

“I don’t understand,” said Peter. “Are you suggesting that James and I could swim out of there? Because I’m not much of a swimmer, and James can barely swim at all.”

“No, it’s too far for you,” said Fighting Prawn. “But we may be able to use the tunnel to disappoint Captain Hook. We must make some preparations, and quickly.” He grunt-clicked something to the warriors, a long and complicated set of instructions. They listened closely, occasionally smiling (Why are they smiling? Peter wondered). When the chief finished, they trotted off.

“Now,” said Fighting Prawn. “We need to enlist an ally.”

“An ally?” said Peter.

“Yes,” said Fighting Prawn. “We need somebody who’s reliable. Trustworthy. And brave.”

Tink flew between the two men, chiming loudly and pointing to herself.

“Somebody who’s a very good swimmer,” added Fighting Prawn.

Tink, deflated, went back to Peter’s shoulder.

“But,” said Peter, “I can’t…I mean, none of the boys can…” Then he stopped, finally understanding who Fighting Prawn meant.

“Oh,” he said.

“Yes,” said Fighting Prawn. “You have a big favor to ask.”