فصل 37

CHAPTER 37

MUCH, MUCH WORSE

BOLD ABALONE PADDLED FROM THE STERN of the lead canoe, his weapons—bow and arrows, spear, and a long knife carved from sea-turtle shell—leaning against the thwart. In the Mollusk language, he called to the warrior in the bow of the canoe, Stalwart Barnacle. “The pirate must be mad. He is headed right for us.”

“Strange. The hairy-faced coward always runs away.”

“Strange, indeed,” agreed Bold Abalone, frowning. He wondered if Hook was planning a surprise, but could think of nothing that would threaten his fleet. He raised his left hand and pointed forward, the signal for attack.

The canoes picked up speed and fanned out, forming a V.

“Look!” called Stalwart Barnacle. “They are stern-heavy! They must be leaking badly!”

Indeed, the bow of the pirate ship seemed to be rising, revealing more and more of the slimy hull, covered with seaweed and barnacles. Bold Abalone tried to make sense of the ship’s odd angle, wondering if the ballast had shifted. Wary of a trap, he raised his hand. At once, all the warriors stopped paddling, the canoes gliding to a stop.

The pirate ship kept coming—and rising. The warriors began to mutter nervously. Then several shouted with alarm as the ship, its hull dripping, rose completely out of the water.

It was flying!

Only once before had Bold Abalone seen such a sight—more than a century ago, when this same ship had flown to the island and released the huge cascade of starstuff—brighter than the noonday sun—that had transformed Mollusk Island forever. Now, watching Hook’s ship, Bold Abalone knew his father’s worst fear had been realized: Hook had found out what was in the gold box brought by Sarah and J.D. The pirate now had the power of starstuff.

Bold Abalone threw down his paddle and waved both arms out to the side, frantically signaling for the canoes to separate.

Hook had lured him into a trap.

“Steady! Steady now!” Hook called out to his helmsman, his eyes on the canoes below.

Hook was far from brilliant. But he was ruthless and cunning, and he had learned the hard way, from his time on this cursed island, that the advantage went to the man with the higher ground. He was also an excellent sailor, and had once flown this very ship many miles with the help of a considerable amount of starstuff.

Now he was flying it again. He’d gotten it aloft himself, carefully pouring starstuff onto the hull. It had taken a large amount—far more than it took to enable Hook and his men to fly—but finally the ship had lifted free of the water.

From the bow, Hook watched the Mollusk canoes below, the warriors paddling furiously to get away. He smiled. After all these years of humiliating defeats, he was chasing the savages. They were fleeing from him.

He glanced behind him. “Keep the ballast coming!” he shouted.

Every ship carries heavy weight in its keel to keep it stable. In the Jolly Roger, this weight was in the form of large rocks loaded by Hook’s men when they had repaired and refloated the partially sunken ship on Mollusk Island. The men were now carrying some of these rocks topside, making a pile in the bow.

Hook looked down again. The ship was almost directly over the closest of the Mollusk canoes.

“Ready, men!” roared Hook.

The pirates grabbed rocks, some so heavy it took two men to lift them.

They carried them to the ship’s rail.

“On my command!” yelled Hook. He peered downward.

“Now!”

The men let loose a rain of heavy rocks. There were cries of alarm from the Mollusks below. Hook felt joy in his heart as the warriors leaped from the canoe. Most of the rocks missed, but two of them slammed into the now-empty canoe, breaking it into pieces. From the other canoes, some warriors shot arrows at the ship. A few stuck into the hull, but none posed a threat to the pirates.

“Reload!” bellowed Hook, and his men scurried for more rocks. “Starboard,” he yelled to the helmsman, positioning the ship over the next canoe.

“Now!”

More rocks went over the side and another canoe was shattered. The pirates, roaring with delight, grabbed still more rocks. Below, the terrified Mollusks paddled frantically, but they could not outrace the flying ship. In a few minutes, half of the fleet of twenty had been destroyed, but Hook was relentless. He intended to destroy them all.

Soon there was just one canoe left, the one Hook had saved for last: the canoe under the command of Fighting Prawn’s son, Bold Abalone. Hook was going to use this canoe to deliver a message that the Mollusks would remember.

“Ready the toy ship!” hollered Hook. He smiled, savoring the cleverness of it—smashing this canoe with the very vessel that had brought the new starstuff to the island.

It took four men to hoist the little ship onto the rail.

“Steady!” Hook called, calculating the precise moment to release it.

“Now!” he shouted. He watched the ship drop toward its target, then roared in triumph as it smashed, perfectly aimed, into the center of the canoe. All the Mollusks were swimming now; their fleet was destroyed.

Hook’s heart swelled with pride. The rout was complete. Finally, after all these years, he had won a decisive victory.

He ordered the helmsman to turn the ship, putting it on a course back to the pirate side of the island. Hook sensed that the ship was descending gently now that the men were no longer heaving weight over the side. He thought he might have to pour some more starstuff into the hull. He wondered how much was left in the gold box. He hoped it was a great deal. He had plans for it.

He strode back amidships. Peter was there, still wrapped in the net, which in turn had been tied with rope, binding Peter to the mainmast so tightly that he could barely move a muscle.

Hook stood with his face only a few inches from Peter’s.

“Your savage friends are swimming for their lives,” he said. “They didn’t care for having rocks dropped on them.” Hook smiled an ugly smile. “I got that idea from you, boy—from the time long ago when you dropped mangoes on my head. Remember? Thought you were clever, you did, because you could fly. But your flying days are over, boy. I’m the one who’s flying now.”

Hook leaned closer. “Things have changed on this island,” he said. “For me, it’s going to be much better. But for you…”

He lifted his hook, holding the needle-sharp point an inch from Peter’s right eye.

“For you, it’s going to be much, much worse.”