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Authors: Caroline Carlson

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C
HAPTER
T
HREE

“I
'VE SAILED THE
High Seas with plenty of peculiar pirates,” said Jasper Fletcher, rubbing his hands together to warm them, “but I believe this bunch is the most peculiar yet.”

Hilary supposed Jasper had a fair point. At this precise moment, her good mate Charlie was helping Miss Pimm out of a rowboat onto the shore of Gunpowder Island, though Miss Pimm was insisting that Enchantresses did not need to be helped, even if they
were
two hundred and forty years old. Jasper's wife, Eloise Greyson, had used her magic crochet hook to summon a pile of fluffy white mittens, and she was busy handing them out to anyone who
looked the least bit cold. Over by the west gate, Claire was discussing shortbread recipes with the pirate Cannonball Jack. Mr. Twigget and three of his mates stood in a nervous huddle; Partridge, Flintlock, and Worthington looked expectantly at Hilary; and the gargoyle hopped about between everyone's feet, wearing one of Miss Greyson's mittens on his tail.

“They may be peculiar,” Hilary said to Jasper, “but I'm awfully glad they're here. Perhaps they'll create such a confusion that Captain Blacktooth will hand over the presidency on the spot.”

When Miss Pimm had been freed from the rowboat at last, Charlie made his way across the rocky beach toward Hilary. “What's the plan, Terror?” he asked.

Hilary flipped through the battered old copy of
Leading the League
that Miss Greyson had loaned her from the
Pigeon
's floating bookshop. Entire chapters kept falling out of the binding, and Hilary wondered if the book's previous owner was living in exile at the Pestilent Home for Foul-Tempered Pirates. “According to the instructions,” she said, “we're supposed to go to Gunpowder Square. If Blacktooth wants to accept my challenge, he'll meet me there.”

“And if he doesn't, we'll chase him into the sea!” The gargoyle hopped up to them. “Can I ride in your bag, Hilary? There are an awful lot of parrots on this island, and they keep trying to land on my head.”

The pirate on duty at the west gate must have been
expecting them, for he swung the gate open without asking to check Hilary's papers. “If it were up to me,” he said as she passed, “I wouldn't let the lot of you in, but the League says I'm supposed to give you a fair chance.” He frowned as Miss Pimm walked through the gate. “Are you sure all these people are pirates?”

Miss Pimm gave the guard her most imposing look. “This island was my home for many years,” she said, “long before the pirate league got hold of it. I assure you that I have every right to be here.” She looked down the cobblestone street and shook her head. “I'm afraid a good deal has changed since I was a girl.”

In fact, Hilary realized, a good deal had changed since her last visit to Gunpowder Island. Though spring was creeping toward the southernmost parts of the kingdom, winter clung to the Northlands like frost on a windowpane, and the sun hung low in the sky when it bothered to rise at all. On Hilary's previous trips, bustling crowds of pirates had filled the island's lanes and alleys, but today the streets were silent. Even the groggery stood empty. “Perhaps everyone ran away when they heard we were coming,” Charlie said.

Hilary peered into the dark windows of the milliner's shop. “You know as well as I do that pirates never run away.”

“If anything,” said Jasper, “they should be running
toward
us. Ah, here comes someone now.”

The person hurrying down the street in their direction had red hair that flew behind her, an emerald green coat of the most fashionable design, a spotless white fur hat, and a dangerous-looking sword strapped around her waist. “Terror!” she called. “I'm so pleased I found you. I was beginning to worry that I'd have to face Blacktooth all by myself, and I'm sure I would have come to a sticky end.”

Hilary gave the smaller girl a hug, keeping her arms well clear of the dangerous-looking sword. “This is Alice Feathering,” she told the assembled pirates. “Some of you know her already, of course. Her brother, Nicholas, is a Mutineer.”

Alice glowered. “I haven't spoken to that bilge rat in months. If he wants to marry Philomena and help her rotten family rule the kingdom, then I want nothing to do with him. When I overheard him talking about coming here to support Captain Blacktooth, I knew I had to be here to support
you
, Hilary, so I hopped on a train, walked a few miles, snuck aboard a ferry, and . . . well, in any case, here I am!”

“I'm surprised your parents approved of such a journey,” Miss Greyson said. “They do know you're here, don't they?”

“Of course they don't!” said Alice. “They're dear friends of the Tilburys, and they can't stand the Enchantress.” She made an apologetic curtsy in Miss Pimm's direction. “But Mother and Father think I've gone off on an educational
tour of the Northlands with my tutor, and my tutor thinks I'm traveling with Mother and Father. They're all so busy with their own dull affairs that it will take them ages to notice I'm gone.”

“Alice will be perfectly safe with us,” Hilary told Miss Greyson. “I'm sure she'll be a great help against Blacktooth and his mates.”

“If they ever show up.” The gargoyle shivered. “This island is as empty as Admiral Westfield's heart, and almost as cold. I hope we make it to Gunpowder Square before my snout freezes.”

H
ILARY LED THE
way through the island's winding streets, each just as deserted as the last. No buccaneers lurked on the front stoop of the mapmaker's shop or under the striped umbrellas of the ice cream parlor. The farther Hilary walked, the more uneasy she felt. If the pirates of Gunpowder Island weren't anywhere in sight, where in the world could they be?

Then Hilary turned the corner into Gunpowder Square.

“Oh, blast,” she whispered.

The square was positively teeming with pirates. Some were jolly and some were grim; some were round and some were spindly; some wore fine cloth coats and some wore thin, patched breeches. They sharpened their swords, checked their pocket watches, and leaned against
the square's statues of famous pirates from history. One enterprising scallywag was serving hot grog from a steaming iron kettle.

“Blacktooth hasn't just brought a few supporters with him,” said Charlie; “he's brought half the League.”

Hilary felt sure he was right. “They may have us outnumbered,” she told her mates, “but don't let them intimidate you. Remember, we're just here to announce our intentions; we're not going into battle.”

“Yet,” said Mr. Partridge, who had turned nearly as green as his parrot. Hilary gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. Then she straightened her pirate hat, smoothed her braid, and led her mates out into the square.

All the pirates in the crowd raised their swords.

“Roasted,” the gargoyle muttered, “and served with potatoes. I knew it.”

Hilary walked down the narrow cobblestone path that ran between the ranks of pirates. She tried not to think about all the shiny steel blades pointed in her direction, or about how very sharp they were sure to be. Some of the pirates jeered as she passed, and others uttered words that Miss Greyson would have described as most unsavory.

“They don't seem to like you very much,” Claire whispered in Hilary's ear.

“No,” said Hilary, “and I can't imagine that challenging their president to a battle will improve the situation.” She gritted her teeth and kept walking, though the crowd of
pirates stretched ahead of her like a vast and ill-tempered sea.

At the far end of the square, a small and shivering group of onlookers stood apart from the pirates. The first was Sir Nicholas Feathering, who was bold enough to smile as Hilary passed by. “It's pleasant to see you again, Pirate Westfield,” he said. “I'd greet your mates as well, but they seem to be glaring daggers at me, and . . .” He turned as pale as Miss Greyson's mittens. “Alice! What are you doing here? It's far too dangerous! Can't you see these people have
swords
?”

“I'm here to support Hilary,” Alice snapped, “and I'm not talking to you. I don't associate with Mutineers.”

Nicholas ran a hand through his hair and looked worriedly at Philomena, who stood next to him wrapped in a long woolen cloak. Hilary tried to walk past her as quickly as she could, but that didn't prevent Philomena from grabbing hold of her arm with a surprising amount of strength. “You may think you can ruin Uncle Blacktooth's career, Miss Westfield,” she murmured, “but I simply won't have it. Soon I shall be the new Enchantress, and you shall be in exile.”

“Please let go of me, Miss Tilbury,” Hilary said as calmly as she could manage. “I can't imagine the ladies and gentlemen of High Society think it's polite to grab one's acquaintances. Are you sure your mother would approve?”

Philomena frowned and let go of Hilary's arm as Claire pushed her way through the crowd. “If you touch Hilary again,” Claire said furiously, “I shall turn you into a centipede on the spot! Perhaps if you're quick enough, a pirate won't squash you under his boot.”

“Exaggeration doesn't suit you, Miss Dupree,” said Philomena. “You're not talented enough to do anything of the sort.”

Claire clenched her fists, but Hilary put a hand on her shoulder. “Never mind Philomena,” she whispered. “Just keep walking.”

There had once been a time when Admiral Westfield would have refused to come within fifty yards of a pirate. Now, however, he stood willingly on Gunpowder Island, towering over the other Mutineers and casting a shadow that seemed to stretch the length of the square. Hilary wished he would disappear at once. He didn't say a word as she passed him, but he stared at her intently, which was quite unpleasant enough.

The gentleman on Admiral Westfield's left was young and tall, and Hilary nearly didn't recognize him until she saw the satisfied sneer on his face. “Oliver Sanderson!” she cried. “Aren't you supposed to be at some sort of school for impudent boys?”

“I graduated,” said Oliver, “with terribly high marks. When the admiral was released from the Dungeons, he was kind enough to take me back into his employment.
He's been like a father to me, you know.”

“Really?” Hilary raised her cutlass. “I wasn't aware he was capable of it.”

The sneer on Oliver's face grew broader. “What about you, Miss Westfield? Aren't you supposed to be a proper young lady?”

“If I were a proper young lady, then I wouldn't be permitted to slice off your nose.”

Jasper tapped Hilary on the shoulder. “Terror,” he said, “I'm not any more fond of Mr. Sanderson's nose than you are, but we have more pressing matters at the moment.”

Reluctantly, Hilary lowered her cutlass and turned away from Oliver. There, in front of her, stood Captain Blacktooth, in his grandest coat and a hat so wide that Hilary wondered how he kept it from blowing off his head. Perhaps he'd frightened the wind into obeying his orders. “Hello, Terror,” he said. “I believe you have something to tell me.”

“You bet she does!” the gargoyle cried.

Hilary put her shoulders back and lifted her chin, for she knew perfectly well that a good pirate doesn't slouch when she issues a formal challenge. “Captain Rupert Blacktooth,” she said as loudly as she could, “I am here to seek the presidency of the Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates.”

Admiral Westfield whispered something into Oliver's ear, and Oliver smirked. Hilary glared at them both.
“Therefore,” she said, turning back to Captain Blacktooth, “I challenge you to a High Seas battle. Do you accept my challenge, or would you rather leave the kingdom at once?”

This pronouncement had sounded terribly ferocious in Hilary's head, but it must have gotten tangled up in the Gunpowder Island breeze, for Captain Blacktooth didn't even flinch. Instead, he polished his spectacles, looking as exasperated as a governess with a disobedient charge. “I would rather be back in my office at League headquarters,” he said, “sitting in my favorite armchair, with a fire in the hearth and an interesting new treasure map to study. But as you've made that impossible, I am here to defend my position.” He stepped closer to Hilary. “I am, however, willing to give you a chance to change your mind. I have always thought you were a wise girl, but if I may speak frankly, this challenge of yours seems to me to be the height of foolishness. Are you truly so eager to throw away your promising career for a life in exile?”

“I won't be the one in exile,” Hilary said firmly. “I'm not the one who's plotting with a villainous admiral, either. Isn't joining forces with the Royal Navy against nearly every one of the League's rules?”

This time, Hilary knew she had struck a blow, for Blacktooth coughed and fumbled with his spectacles. “My business partners are none of your concern,” he said. “In any case, your father merely volunteers for the navy, and I'm quite sure there's no rule against consorting with
volunteers.” He settled the spectacles back on his nose. “Now, Terror, since you refuse to disappear quietly, I am forced to proceed with the formalities. Where are your supporters?”

BOOK: The Buccaneers' Code
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