Peter and the Starcatchers (29 page)

S
LANK AND LITTLE RICHARD, having hidden their dory and the pirates’ longboat, set off along the beach. Slank was in the lead; Little Richard walked a few paces back, armed with a flintlock pistol, which he hoped would be effective against spiders.

“Sir,” he asked, “where’re we going?”

“Around that point there,” said Slank, gesturing ahead toward a rocky spit of land.

“So we ain’t going into the jungle?” asked Little Richard, hopeful y.

“Not right here,” said Slank. “This is where Mr. Stache went in, and I don’t want us to run into him quite yet, not ’til we find what we’re looking for. We’l go around that point, then we’l move inland.”

“Oh,” said Little Richard unhappily.

Walking on the hard-packed sand at the water’s edge, they quickly reached the rocky point, a jumble of lava boulders. They worked their way through these until Slank, in the lead, peered over the top of a massive weathered rock and beheld a spectacular lagoon, its deep blue water shimmering and sparkling like diamonds in the late-afternoon sun.

In the center of the lagoon’s curve a waterfal burst from one of two hil side caves and splashed down onto a cluster of gigantic boulders. Some yards offshore from these was a smal er grouping of smooth black rocks, like a miniature island. The nearest of the rocks rose to a flat spot, like the seat of a chair.

Somebody, or
something,
was sitting in the chair.

Slank blinked and strained to see it more clearly.

“It
can’t
be,” he muttered.

“What
is
it, Mr. Slank?” said Little Richard.

“It’s a…
woman,
” said Slank. “But it’s got…”

“A
woman!
” Little Richard, who liked women as much as he hated spiders, scrambled forward, inadvertently knocking Slank aside as he hauled himself up on the rock to see.

“Sir?” he said. “I don’t see no woman.”

Slank stuck his head back up: The rock was empty.

“She was
there,
” he said, pointing. “She was
right there.
”

Little Richard eyed Slank doubtful y.

“I tel you I saw her!” said Slank. “She had golden hair. And…And a…”

“A what, Mr. Slank?”

“A tail,” Slank said. “Instead of legs, she had a long green tail.”

“A tail?” said Little Richard. “This woman that isn’t there now had a
tail
?”

“Yes,” said Slank.

“So what you’re saying, sir,” said Little Richard, “is you saw a mermaid.”

“I didn’t say that!” said Slank. “I said I saw a woman with…with a…”

“…a tail,” said Little Richard.

“Yes, a tail,” said Slank, although now he was starting to wonder himself.

“Al right, then,” said Little Richard gently. “Maybe what you need, sir, is a little rest.”

“I
saw
her,” said Slank.

“’Course you did, sir!” said Little Richard. “’Course you did. Now what you need is a nice sit-down in the shade there, and then…”

“Look!” exclaimed Slank, gripping the big man’s forearm.

Little Richard looked, and there, on the rock, dripping seawater, were
two
mermaids. One with golden hair, one with black hair, both breathtakingly beautiful.

Little Richard tried to speak, but his throat clogged and his face turned red. Final y he spat it out: “TWO!”

“I told you,” said Slank.

“What kind of island
is
this?” said Little Richard, gazing wide-eyed at the mermaids. “It’s magical, it is.”

“Yes,” said Slank, more to himself than to Little Richard. “There’s magic here, al right.” His hand went under his shirt and, for a moment, curled around the gold locket he wore there. Then he ducked behind the rock, grabbing Little Richard’s massive shoulder and pul ing down on it.

“Get
down,
” he hissed.

Reluctantly, Little Richard tore his eyes from the fish-women and crouched next to Slank.

“But they’re so
beautiful,
sir,” he said.

“You’l have a better view soon,” said Slank. “We’re going over there.”

“We
are
?” said Little Richard, overjoyed.

“We are,” said Slank. “But quietly. We’re not going to let them see
us
until we get nice and close, so they can’t swim off. Them creatures has what we’re after, and I aim to get it from them.”

“But we ain’t gonna
hurt
them, sir?”

“Only if we have to,” said Slank. “Only if they try to keep it.”

F
OR A MOMENT, neither Alf nor the boys could speak; they stared at Fighting Prawn, faces frozen in dread.

Peter broke the silence. “Please, sir,” he said. “Who is Mister Grin?” As he spoke, he again sensed something move inside the log structure. The earth beneath him seemed to shake—something was in there, something
very
big.

“Mister Grin,” said Fighting Prawn, “is a native of Mol usk Island. For many years he was a peaceful neighbor to the Mol usk people: he went his way; we went ours. But then, some years ago, visitors came to our island—sailors—Englishmen, they were. Like you. They thought it would be good sport to hunt Mister Grin.” Something thrashed inside the enclosure; the wal s shook. The boys cowered, scurrying back on their bottoms. Even Alf retreated a few feet.

“We urged these men not to harm our old neighbor, but of course they did not listen to us. We are
savages,
don’t forget. The English are
civilized.
” Fighting Prawn smiled, not pleasantly.

“They were good hunters, these Englishmen,” he said. “They captured Mister Grin—managed to snare him with grappling hooks, then drag him up the beach and tie him to a tree with ropes. Then they had their sport. They drank their rum and teased him, prodded and poked to see what he would do, used him for their
amusement.
We asked them to stop.

But Englishmen do not care what savages think.

“Final y, a young Mol usk boy could no longer bear to hear Mister Grin’s roars of pain. That night, when the drunken Englishmen had fal en asleep, the boy crept among them and tried to cut Mister Grin free. An Englishmen awoke and saw the boy. He shot him, in the leg. The boy fel , screaming. Some of our people saw what happened. The boy lay on the ground, bleeding, screaming. And the Englishmen did nothing. Mister Grin was only a few feet away. Mister Grin was so angry by then…” Fighting Prawn looked at the ground, then at the enclosure, and then back to Peter.

“That boy was my son,” he said.

“But, sir,” said Peter. “That wasn’t…”

“We attacked the Englishmen then,” said Fighting Prawn, ignoring Peter. “They were surprised that we would do that, and even more surprised when we defeated them. In the end, they cried like babies, begged us for mercy. We told them they would have to ask Mister Grin for mercy. He showed them none.” Another movement from inside the logs.

“We released Mister Grin then, because it was not his fault, none of it. But they’d ruined him, you see? Given him a taste for humans. Instead of returning to the jungle, he stayed near our vil age, watching us, smel ing us, wanting us. Lurking, waiting. We had no choice but to capture and kil him.”

“But he’s stil alive,” Peter said.

“Yes,” said Fighting Prawn. “As fate would have it, another ship arrived on the day we were to do it. So instead of destroying Mister Grin, we put him to work. Now it is our law, to keep the island ours. For Mol usks, not for outsiders.”

“But, sir,” said Peter, “those were pirates! We’re on this island because pirates attacked us also. We feel the same way about them as you do.”

“The lad is right.” Alf was speaking now. “We mean you no harm.”

“Yes, you would say that,” said Fighting Prawn. “You visitors
always
say that, and sometimes you may even mean it. But we have learned that you visitors are
always
trouble, pirates or no. You have abused our hospitality, brought disease, taken us as slaves, kil ed us like animals….”

“But that wasn’t us!” exclaimed Peter. “We didn’t do those things!”

“You haven’t
yet,
” said Fighting Prawn. “And Mister Grin wil see to it that you never wil . That is our law.” He turned and grunted something. Instantly, two men appeared with a ladder of lashed bamboo. They leaned it against the log wal . From within, there came a low growl. Tubby Ted whimpered. Prentiss and Thomas clutched each other, sobbing. James gripped Peter’s arm.

“But, sir!” It was Alf speaking now. “You can’t mean to…I mean, these are just
boys
!”

“No exceptions,” said Fighting Prawn. “It’s the law.”

He grunted something. Four men with spears approached Alf.

“Wait! There’s a trunk!” said Peter, exchanging a quick glance with Alf. “It has powers…It’s…It’s
magic,
and we think it’s on this island! We could help you find it, sir, show you how to use the power!”

Fighting Prawn shook his head in disgust.

“Lying, now,” he said. “They al try that, too. Lying to the savages, as though we’re children, easily tricked. Here’s your
magic.
” He spat on the ground.

“But the magic is real!” Alf said. “I seen it with me own eyes. What the boy says is true.”

Fighting Prawn looked back and forth between Alf and Peter, and for a moment, Peter thought Alf might have convinced him. But then the old man grunted again to the four men, who prodded Alf roughly toward the ladder, forcing him to climb.

“No!” said Alf, pointing to the logs. “I ain’t goin’ in there!”

“Then these men wil spear you and throw your body over the wal ,” said Fighting Prawn. “Either way, you
will
go in there.” As he spoke, one of the men pressed a spear point against Alf’s chest. Alf winced as he felt the razor-sharp shel penetrate his shirt and prick his chest.

“Al right,” Alf said, “I’l go without a fight. But only if it’s just me.
Please.
Not the boys. They’s just
boys.
”

“Boys, yes,” said Fighting Prawn. “Just like my son.”

Prodded from below, his legs now pricked and bleeding, Alf climbed to the top of the wal . He looked over the side, then back at Peter, his face white as a sail.

“Alf?” said Peter.

Alf started to speak, but before he could, he was shoved over the wal , and was gone.

The boys were next. One by one, first Tubby Ted, then James, Prentiss, and Thomas, al sobbing, were driven at spear point up the ladder and over the wal .

Peter was last. He climbed without prodding. At the top, he looked back down at Fighting Prawn and said, “This is wrong. We’ve done nothing.”

“Yes, you have,” said Fighting Prawn. “You came to this island.” He paused, then added: “You’re a brave boy.” He looked once to sky and then back to Peter. “Perhaps Mister Grin wil have mercy upon you.”

Then he motioned to his men. But before they could act, Peter jumped over the wal to join his mates. And Mister Grin.

“
Q
UIET!” SLANK HISSED.

Slank and Little Richard struggled, sweating, through the darkening but stil -hot jungle, staying out of sight as they fol owed the sweeping curve of the lagoon toward the dark mouth of the cave.

From time to time they peered careful y through the vegetation at the two green-tailed she-fish. Each time, Little Richard stared, almost hypnotized by the creatures; the closer he got, the more beautiful they looked to him.

In twenty minutes they had crept behind the trees to a spot directly up the beach from the rocks where the she-fish sprawled, unmoving, facing out to sea, apparently oblivious to the approach of the two men.

“Al right,” whispered Slank. “We want to get as close as we can, but not scare ’em. Understand?”

“Yes,” said Little Richard, excited at the prospect of getting close, especial y to the blond one.

“Al right, then,” said Slank. “Here goes.” He stepped out from the trees, fol owed by Little Richard. The two men walked down the beach until the gentle lagoon surf lapped at their boots. They were now perhaps twenty-five feet from the rock where the she-fish lay.