Spirits in the Park (28 page)

Kidd reached the door to his cabin and invited Rory inside. Stepping into the large room, the boy had to admit he was impressed. Everything was gold: the paint on the walls, the furniture, even the rug. A large dining-room table sat in the middle of the room, which Kidd explained he used to entertain rich captives he kidnapped. A large cabinet stood behind the table, filled with expensive plates and goblets. The dinnerware was tightly lashed to the shelves, but Rory wondered if they'd survive a big storm. A half-open door to the side led into a similarly opulent bedroom, with what appeared to be a four-poster bed, whose sheets, Rory was not shocked to see, were also colored a bright gold. Windows lined the back of the dining room, looking out the stern of the ship. Stepping up to glance outside, he could see their wake disappear into the fog. Kidd leaned forward beside him to stare out at the water.

“I didn't begin my life at sea as a pirate, you know,” he said. Rory glanced over, but the man was still looking out into the distance. “I was hired by the good people of New York to chase pirates. And any French ships I might come across, of course. The King of England himself put money into my campaign. A privateer, they called me. I did very well. I shared the loot with the crown and the colony, and everyone was happy. I was a respected member of the community. I even helped build Trinity Church! And then . . . things began to go poorly for me.”

“I grew up hearing all about your treasure,” Rory said, glancing about the gold-infused cabin. “It doesn't look like you did too badly.”

“It's all relative, my boy,” Kidd said, repressing a smile. “Poorly from a respectability standpoint, at least. I lost most of my loyal crew to the British navy, who in those days would often sail right up to your ship on the open sea and take many of your ablest men by force to work their own sails. I replaced them as best I could, but most of the new men were old pirates with no loyalty to anyone but themselves. So when I began to have trouble finding French ships to plunder, they began to rumble. Mutiny was in the air. It came to a head when I happened upon a rich ship loaded with gold and silk and silver. They had French passes but an English captain. I knew it was a mistake, but my crew would have set me adrift in the middle of the ocean if I had refused them the spoils. So we took everything and sank the ship and thus did I truly became a pirate.”

“So what you're telling me is that you're really not that bad a guy,” Rory said. Kidd laughed.

“Yes, that's what I'm saying.” He strode over to the small bar near the table to pour himself a drink. “I'd offer you some, but your fierce friend Alexa might run me through for corrupting a youth.”

“Probably,” Rory answered absently. A growing sense of discomfort was rising up in his belly. This was going somewhere and he had a feeling he wouldn't like the destination. Kidd took a long drink and set the glass down with a satisfied sigh.

“Rum, a pirate's best friend. Washes away all the guilt.”

“What are you guilty about?”

“I finally placed you,” Kidd said casually, refilling his glass. “You look just like one of Tew's Boys. Their leader; at least I always believed him to be. An ancestor, I suppose?”

Rory froze. “What are you talking about?”

“Come now,” Kidd said, smiling. “I can see the way you look at me. What have you heard? That I hunted poor Thomas Tew down and murdered his crew and left him for dead? Such tales.”

“That isn't what you did?”

“Goodness no. Tew hunted me down. He was tired of the competition. I fought him off, finally sinking his ship and leaving him on an island to rot.” Kidd's eyes flashed and Rory saw a little of the hard pirate under the roguish charm. “But don't worry. I have nothing but respect for you. After all, you are a Light.”

Rory suddenly felt like he was going to throw up, but he refused to give in to it.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he said, bluffing furiously.

“Don't you?” Kidd laughed before taking a smaller sip of rum. “There have been rumors lately, about a Light who survived infanthood. That Light is you, is it not? There was a time, hundreds and hundreds of years ago, when your kind was more common. The walls between Mannahatta and Manhattan were thinner then, I guess. I even knew one of you when I was mortal. He was my first galley cook, John Tenpin, and he'd rave about what he'd seen. And some of his mates would whisper about spying these crazy things as well, once John pointed them out. After a while no one would speak with him for fear of what he'd make them see. It's a difficult life, being a Light. But no one knows that better than you do, am I right?”

Rory felt out of control. “What are you going to do?” he asked quietly. “Give me over to Kieft?”

“Oh no,” Kidd replied, waving his drink in the air. “I despise the man, always have. If you are on some noble journey to take him down a peg, I am all for it. But as for my help . . . here is where it gets tricky.”

“You promised!” Desperation made Rory bold. “You said you'd help me because Hendrick tried to kidnap me. You said we'd work something out.”

“We are working something out,” Kidd replied, smiling with cold eyes. “What you ask of me now, sailing after a ghost ship, putting my entire crew at risk for no gain, that is far more than you get for simply being the victim of one of Hendrick's little schemes. I need something more.”

“Why did you wait until now to tell me this?” Rory asked.

“Because I know how to bargain!” Kidd laughed. “Out in the middle of the ocean is a hard place to refuse an offer. Now, will I throw you overboard and let you sink to your death if you refuse me? Maybe. I've done it before. But if you say yes, then I will consider our bargain struck and I will help you all that I can.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Rory asked.

“Because I will give you what you want first,” Kidd said. “I will continue to sail this ship in the direction you choose, until we find what you are looking for.”

“Then what?”

“Then, one day, I will arrive at your door. You will pack up your things and come with me on a long sea voyage. More than that, I will not say.”

“When . . .”

“Not now. Not tomorrow. Maybe not even next year. The time is not right yet. The world is too out of whack. But one day I will arrive and call your debt due. And you will come with me to see what only a Light can see. Do we have a deal?”

Rory stared back at the old sea captain, wondering if he could trust him. But in the end, what choice did he have?

“I agree.”

“Shake.” Kidd stepped forward, spitting on his hand. Rory spat on his hand as well and they shook. As their hands pumped, a shock ran up Rory's arm and through his body. Kidd's satisfied smile made him sick to his stomach.

“Feel that? That means it's a sealed deal. Now let's go find that ship.”

Alexa had questions for Rory when he rejoined her on deck after his meeting with Kidd, but he didn't feel like sharing. He felt like an idiot. He should have seen this shakedown coming. The man was a pirate after all. What had he just signed up for?

He stared out at the mist. Something in the air had changed. One of the sailors noticed it, too, and gave him a look.

“Storm's comin',” the sailor said. “And it's gonna be a big one . . .”

HOWLS IN THE DISTANCE

B
ridget and her companions decided to leave Seneca Village while everyone was still at church. Bridget wore a backpack Pierre had given her, which he stuffed with heavy jackets for the climb up the Great Hill (not that she needed one). Hans did an emergency check of his armor's heating system, and after almost melting his eyebrows off, he pronounced everything shipshape. As she turned to say good-bye to Pierre, Bridget saw tears in his eyes. He gave her shoulder a squeeze.

“Good luck,” he said. “And if you do ever find Abigail, tell her I'm sorry.”

Bridget didn't know what to say, so she gave the old trapper a hug. She hoped the old man found some peace here in his shack filled with lost memories.

They passed out of the village quickly, heading into the trees to the north. Finn took the lead, with Soka right beside him. Bridget walked a bit behind, Hans in her pocket and Tucket by her side. Soka laughed at something Finn said, and Bridget grumbled.

“Stupid boy.”

“I hope not,” Hans said, overhearing. “At least, I hope he has some sense of direction.”

“Look at him, talking to her like that.” Bridget was disgusted. Finn said something else stupid that Soka didn't realize wasn't funny, and the Munsee girl laughed. “Maybe he's a sorcerer or something, bewitching her.”

“Or maybe he's just a really good-looking guy,” Hans said. “I mean, I'm secure enough to say that he is a tasty treat of a dude.”

“She's not supposed to be laughing at his jokes. She's supposed to be laughing at Rory's jokes!”

“Well, Rory better speak up, because he's kinda hard to hear from so far away,” Hans said. His eyes widened. “Oh. Oh, wait, I see. You think Soka and Rory are going to be an item? Maybe he'd have a chance if Finn weren't around. But sorry, girl, your brother just can't compete with all that.”

“Rory's gonna save her people!”

“Look at that guy's biceps! Rory could part the Hudson and lead the Munsees to the promised land, but he just ain't got the guns.”

Bridget stewed as they hiked on, growing more and more agitated with every shared moment between Soka and Finn. She had to calm herself down, so she concentrated on looking around. She could see the large reservoir that lay in the middle of the northern part of the park through the trees, and now and again, mortals would jog by one of the paths before disappearing again. But it seemed to take far longer to hike up past the reservoir than it should, and she only saw a few people when she knew a lot more should be out and about. She couldn't wrap her head around how big the spirit world was compared to the Central Park she knew. But judging by how they'd been hiking, she could guess that most of the time they walked through a place where most mortals could not go.

“What are you hoping to find up on the mountain, anyway?” Finn asked Soka as they walked ahead of Bridget and Tucket. “If this Abigail girl escaped as you say she did, then how do you expect to find her by returning to the Great Hill?”

“If you must know,” Bridget said, inserting herself into the conversation, “in her last memory in the necklace, Abigail said she left something in the cave, which was supposed to help her find it again. Like a homing beacon.”

“How will that help us find her?” Finn asked, his beautiful face confused. At least he didn't look too bright, Bridget thought with some satisfaction. But Soka was nodding.

“That puzzled me, too,” Soka replied. “But when I asked my mother, she mentioned a trick she taught Abigail long ago. You take a piece of wampum and you split it in half directly down the middle. They have to be perfect halves or it won't work. Then the two halves remember each other, and they'll call out to each other no matter how far apart they may be. I wouldn't be surprised if Abigail tried this trick—left behind half a piece of wampum in this cave and kept the other. The nice thing for us is that it will work in reverse: we can use the half in the cave to find Abigail, so long as she still holds that other piece of wampum.”

“That's pretty clever,” Finn said admiringly. “Of course a tiny piece of wampum won't be easy to find among all that treasure.”

“Treasure?” Bridget asked suspiciously. “Who said anything about treasure?”

“Calm down, little one.” Finn laughed, making Bridget want to plant her steel toe in a very bad place. “Grandfather always talked about the treasure that was supposed to be in the cave. We would try to guess what it could be, but, of course, we never knew.”

“I bet it's something good!” Hans declared. “If ol' Kieft went to all that trouble to sneak it in the park right before he turned it into the world's largest safety-deposit box, I bet it's something really important.”

“Like gold?” Finn asked. “I always thought it would be gold.”

“That doesn't seem big enough,” Hans replied as Bridget rolled her eyes at the pretty boy's lack of imagination. “Maybe evidence of his black magic? Eyeballs in jars, bags of stolen brains, that sort of thing?”

“Eww!” Bridget shuddered. “I hope not. Maybe there are a bunch of really cool weapons with magical powers that he had to hide away because they were the only things that could hurt him or even kill him. Maybe there's a big sword and I'll pull it out of the floor and then I'll be the new mayor of Mannahatta!”

Hans gave her an amused glance. “Or maybe not.”

“We can only guess,” Soka said. “Hopefully, whatever we find in Kieft's cave will help us. But remember, our search is for Abigail, not treasure. So don't let our attention wander.”

“Of course,” Finn said. “I was just curious.”

I bet you were, Bridget thought. She'd have to watch this boy closely. He was not to be trusted.