فصل 58

CHAPTER 58

VISITORS

FIGHTING PRAWN PACED ANXIOUSLY around the fire ring. The hot rocks steamed from the rain.

“Did you check the food cave?” He spoke in the Mollusk language, grunts and clicks that could convey many subtle meanings.

“We did.”

His son, Bold Abalone, did the talking for the group of six warriors, all nervously watching their angry chief.

“The mermaids?” he snapped.

“Have not seen either of them.”

“The boys?”

“They are also missing. Their hut is empty, and so is their underground hideout.”

“Which means they’re probably with the girls, leading them into mischief.”

Bold Abalone said nothing. Everyone knew it was usually Shining Pearl leading the boys into mischief, but Fighting Prawn wouldn’t want to hear that right now.

“If I might speculate, Father?” he said cautiously.

“Yes?”

“It being your birthday tomorrow, I think it’s possible they went off in search of a gift to please you.”

“They would have pleased me much more by obeying the rules.”

“They might have been caught in the storm,” Bold Abalone said quietly.

Fighting Prawn softened, his anger at his daughters’ disobedience far outweighed by his concern for their safety.

“Whatever they’ve done, we need to find them,” he said. “In this rain …”

He didn’t finish, but they all knew what he was thinking. When the rain was heavy, it caused problems for the wild boars that roamed the central part of the island, slowing the usually nimble creatures down, sometimes trapping them in mud holes. This in turn attracted Mister Grin, the monstrous crocodile, who in heavy rains ventured much farther inland than usual. He loved the taste of boar almost as much as he loved the taste of Captain Hook. During the last rain he’d gotten four of the creatures, their skeletons found by the Mollusks a few days later, stripped of all meat.

Mister Grin would be out hunting again tonight.

“Search the island,” Fighting Prawn said grimly. “Three groups. One on the mountain trail, one on the north water trail, one on the south. You’ll meet on the far end, by Skull Rock, and then come back up the center, if necessary, taking the smaller trails. If they show up back here, we’ll sound the conch.”

Bold Abalone stepped forward and placed a hand on his father’s shoulder.

“We will find them, Father.”

Fighting Prawn grabbed his son’s forearm with an unusually strong grip.

“You will,” he said, his voice catching in his throat.

“Chief!” a voice called out. “A ship!” Fighting Prawn turned and saw Wandering Crab, a tall warrior currently on beach watch, beckoning urgently.

With a nod Fighting Prawn sent Bold Abalone off to organize the search. He followed Wandering Crab out of the village and down onto the beach. Night and fog still shrouded the coast, but in the distance he could make out the running lights of the ship.

“It may just be a passing freighter,” he said, although he knew this was unlikely. Big ships never came near the island, which was far from any shipping lane and guarded by treacherous reefs.

“I thought so at first,” said Wandering Crab. “But it’s not passing. It’s going back and forth, just outside the reef.”

“For how long?”

“That’s its fourth pass.”

Fighting Prawn frowned. Ordinarily he would challenge any ship that came so close to the island. But he didn’t like the idea of sending out canoes in the dark, and in a storm like this.

“Perhaps it’s looking for the men who were here,” Fighting Prawn said. “The castaways. That might explain it. Maybe some of their men were picked up by this ship, and now it’s searching for other survivors.”

“Then why stay offshore?” said Wandering Crab. “Why not send a landing party?”

Fighting Prawn nodded. He didn’t like visitors in any event. He especially did not like visitors whose intentions were not clear.

“Double the watch on the beach,” he said. “If this ship is still there at first light, we send canoes. With weapons. If anything changes, I want to hear about it immediately.”

“Yes, chief.” Wandering Crab loped back toward the village to get the additional men. Fighting Prawn trudged behind, thinking about the ship, and the missing children. At the moment he could see no connection between the two. It seemed to be a coincidence.

In his long life, Fighting Prawn had learned to be very suspicious of coincidences.