The Lost Prince (36 page)

One-Eyed Jack looked around and saw his men all tied up. As his victory slipped away, he snarled like a trapped animal and ran at Dean in a last-ditch effort to take him down. Dean spun around low, swept Jack’s legs, and dropped him on his chin. One-Eyed Jack flipped over onto his back and froze when he felt the tip of Dean’s blade poke his neck. The barrage of gold nuggets stopped. “You call yourself a king, but you’re just another pirate. There’s nothing special about you.”

One-Eyed Jack craned his neck as far back from Dean’s cutlass as it could go. “You think you’re any different?” he sneered. “We’re cut from the same cloth, you and me.”

Dean shook his head. “You’re wrong. I know the truth now.”

“What truth?” One-Eyed Jack asked. “That you’re the lost prince of Zenhala?” He tried and failed to keep from laughing. “Is that what you think?” The snickers grew into uncontrollable guffaws.

Dean blinked through the rain. One-Eyed Jack’s laughter bothered him. “My blood turned the palace water blue.”

“I don’t care if it turned it green,” One-Eyed Jack said, cackling. “You’re no prince! You’re a decoy!”

“What?”

“You’re not a prince!” One-Eyed Jack said again. “The real prince died ages ago. Fever. You’re just another sea-born orphan. I kept you around in case the Zenhalans ever caught up with me. Scurvy Gill branded your arm himself. You’re a decoy, Seaborne! That’s all!”

One-Eyed Jack roared with laughter. Even in his current predicament, the thought of Dean believing himself to be royalty delighted him no end. Dean’s stomach went cold. He hated to admit it, but One-Eyed Jack’s story held water. There was no one on earth who was worse equipped to care for a newborn baby than a fleet of pirates. The child One-Eyed Jack stole away probably didn’t last more than a week on St. Diogenes, if he lasted even that long. That didn’t explain the blue water in the palace fountains, although Dean began to have an inkling of how it might have happened. Something about the way One-Eyed Jack was laughing told Dean he was telling the truth. For once in his life, he was telling the truth.

“So be it. I didn’t come here to be king. I came here for my freedom, and I’ll have it.” Dean raised his sword and stood
poised to strike. “Before I do, I’ll ask you one last time. Where is Waverly?”

One-Eyed Jack kept laughing. “Look behind you.”

Dean’s head whipped around. He looked across the deck of the ship and saw the girl he came to rescue caught in the clutches of the dirtiest dog on board. Scurvy Gill was standing at the edge of the boat with the barrel of a flintlock pressed against Waverly’s cheek.

CHAPTER
35

W
e was right about you to begin with,” Scurvy Gill told Dean. “Too big fer yer britches, plain and simple. Maybe this’ll cut ya down to size.” He slid the pistol under Waverly’s chin and cocked the hammer.

“No!” Dean shouted. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ronan take a step toward Scurvy Gill. “Nobody move!” he blurted out.

Ronan halted and Dean pulled his sword back from One-Eyed Jack’s neck.

“Don’t,” Waverly warned. “Dean, don’t you drop that sword!”

“Quiet, you!” Scurvy Gill ordered.

Dean threw his sword down and stepped away from One-Eyed
Jack. “There! I let him go. It’s done. Your turn, Gill. Let her go.”

Scurvy Gill loosened his grip on Waverly and backed off of her, but only far enough to reach a sack of gold lying at his feet. He snorted out a laugh as he tossed the bag into a lifeboat. “Who said I was gonna let her go?”

Waverly glared at Dean. “You see? I told you not to drop your sword!”

“Let’s talk about this,” Dean said, taking a cautious step toward him and Waverly. “What do you think’s going to happen if you get in that boat? I’ll tell you. The same thing that’ll happen if you pull that trigger—you’ll die. Look around. The ship’s ours. You can’t weather the storm without it. Hurt her and we’ll take you apart piece by piece, but you let her go.… Let her go and we’ll let you live.” He looked at One-Eyed Jack. “That’s the deal.” Lightning struck the sea, close to the ship. The thunderclap that followed punctuated Dean’s terms as the
Maelstrom
swayed on the sea. “I suggest you take it before the storm takes us all.”

“That’s the deal on the table, eh? Whaddaya say, Cap’n?” Scurvy Gill called out as One-Eyed Jack got up off the deck. “We gonna take the sea pup’s deal?”

One-Eyed Jack straightened his collar with a look of indignant contempt for the young pirates around him. He was surrounded and outnumbered, but his pride wouldn’t buckle. “I’d sooner take my chances on the waves.” He looked at Dean’s sword on the
ground and shook his head with a condescending laugh. “That’s two times you should have killed me when you had the chance. Dumb, boy. Stone dumb. Blow the man down, Mr. Gill! Let’s see how tall this lot stands with Seaborne a head shorter.”

Scurvy Gill turned his gun toward Dean and pulled the trigger.

“No!” Waverly shouted, pushing his hand up.

“Blast you, wench!” Scurvy Gill cursed as the musket ball flew harmlessly up to the sails. He swung the butt of the pistol around, trying to hit her. She dodged it, but wobbled, losing her balance.

“WAVERLY!” Dean shouted as she fell over the side.

He rushed to the gunwale in time to see Waverly regain her composure mid-fall and execute a perfect swan dive into the sea. A wave splashed Dean’s face and he lost her. He called her name again but heard nothing in reply.

Scurvy Gill was directly to his left. Dean had every right to grab up his sword and run him through, but he grabbed a kiteboard and sail instead. The Pirate Youth converged on Gill and One-Eyed Jack, but Dean wasn’t with them when they made their move. He was already jumping into the water after Waverly.

At first, he dropped like a stone. Then Dean’s feet found the footholds in the board and he let out his sail. The wind pulled him into the night. He swirled around in the air as if caught in a tornado, and he wrestled with the crossbar to control his flight path. Lightning flashed, illuminating the angry sea. Dean saw
nothing but the most fearsome storm imaginable. He thought he heard Waverly, but thunder drowned out her voice. He turned his board in the direction from where he thought it had come, struggling to ride winds that threatened to carry him to the moon. No matter which way he turned, his trajectory was predominantly skyward. Only with great effort was he able to angle his sail to bring himself back down to the surface of the water, but the moment he splashed down, the storm pulled him right back up. Lighting split the sky again, and Dean scanned the waters for Waverly.

There!
He saw her flailing in the foamy surf, trying to stay above the waves.

“Hang on! I’m coming!”

But he was going the wrong way. He twisted his body in midair and swung his sail around to face the opposite direction. A gale took hold of him and yanked him back across the water, but the wind proved too wild. Going far too fast, Dean blew right by her.

Using every ounce of strength he had, Dean wrenched down on the crossbar, turning the sail to come around for another pass. Something heavy hit the water near Dean, and he saw that it was One-Eyed Jack and Scurvy Gill escaping from the
Maelstrom
in a gig. The Pirate Youth had run them off the boat.

Dean turned from the path of a twelve-foot tsunami before he got crushed under its weight, shifting his focus back to Waverly’s
position—and his own. He felt naked in the storm without a ship, literally hung out in the wind to twist. His eyes again swept the sea for Waverly. She showed up, coughing water, twenty feet off. Dean couldn’t believe the currents had pulled her so far so fast. He turned his sail one last time, changing course. This time, as he closed in on Waverly, he ditched the sail to make sure he stopped where she was. He skidded up to her and slid off the board, catching a hand on a freshly vacated foothold. She grabbed on to the other foothold, relieved to have something buoyant to cling to, though not necessarily happy to see Dean. “What are you doing out here?” she shouted. “Are you crazy?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Dean replied.

Waverly lost her grip on the board, but Dean caught her and pulled her back on. She fought off his assistance and found the grip on her own. “Let go of me. I hate you!”

“Hate me later!”

“There won’t be a later.” She balled up her fist. “I’m going to hit you now.”

“That’s fine! Just keep your eyes peeled for the ship while you do it.”

A wave shook Waverly, and she nearly lost her hold on the board again. She relaxed her fist and latched both hands onto the float. “I can’t let go,” she said, resigned to not hitting him.

“I know.”

She looked around. “I can’t see anything, either.”

Dean nodded, a grim feeling of dread settling in. “I know.”

Huge swells threw them across the water like floating wreckage. Dean held tight to the board, craning his neck to check all sides for the ship. He too saw nothing. He didn’t say it, but he wondered if the
Maelstrom
was even still out there. It was impossible to tell. All was dark and murky. He could barely keep his eyes open in the rain, and the bounding sea rocked him without mercy, keeping him disoriented. The
Maelstrom
might have been right behind him, or it might have succumbed to the storm. He had no way of knowing. He prayed the ship was still afloat and that they would spot it before the storm carried them out of reach. As the reality of their situation sunk in, Dean regretted not taking to the water with more of a plan. He’d found Waverly, but he had not saved her by any means. How long before the storm separated, drowned, or dropped them somewhere ten miles off? As they bobbed along, helpless and exposed, Dean searched the dark horizon for the ship and his mind for answers.

What now?

One-Eyed Jack and Scurvy Gill came into view, struggling to stay afloat in the tempest. They were close, within range of a musket ball. As Dean’s luck would have it, One-Eyed Jack had a shooter in hand. He looked daggers at Dean as he extended his arm and took aim. Dean was about to duck his head underwater so as not to give One-Eyed Jack a clear shot, when lightning flashed
and a massive shadow loomed behind him. Dean trembled and reached for Waverly when he saw what it had come from.

A giant sea serpent rose from the deep—big as a whale and twice as long. Armored scales covered its hide like shields, and waves of sharp fins ran down its back like swords. One-Eyed Jack dropped his pistol into the water as the creature’s snakelike body writhed in the air and looped around his tiny boat. “Now, that’s what I call a sea serpent,” Dean said.

One-Eyed Jack’s face displayed the kind of terror reserved for men who knew their time had come. The beast opened its mouth wide, and One-Eyed Jack screamed as it dove down toward him. Dean shut his eyes and held tight to Waverly as a surge of water displaced by the diving monster pushed them away. When he opened his eyes, he saw only broken pieces of wood scattered across the sea where One-Eyed Jack had been. Lightning flashed again. The sea serpent was still there, sizing up its next meal.

Then the snapdragon surfaced. It shrieked at the massive sea serpent like a dachshund barking at a mastiff, but it made its voice heard. Dean didn’t know if the snapdragon was vouching for him and Waverly or claiming them for itself. He didn’t care, either. The answer came when the giant sea serpent departed and the snapdragon took Dean and Waverly on its back.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Waverly asked, grabbing hold of a dorsal fin.

“Relax,” Dean replied. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

The snapdragon swam them to a ship at the edge of the storm. Someone threw down a line, and the pair of them latched on. As they were hauled on board, Dean recognized the
Tideturner
and Verrick at the helm. Finally free to relax without consequence, Dean flopped on the deck. He had not been this relieved to be out of the water since his involuntary shark tank expedition a week ago.
A week
, he thought. It felt like longer. Dean’s head was swimming and his ears were waterlogged, but he heard Verrick give the order to heave to and flee the storm as fast as possible. It took until they reached clear skies for Dean’s breathing to return to normal and his heart to dislodge from his throat. He looked over at Waverly, who was draped in a blanket and coming down from the same hypersensitive state of shock as he. Their eyes met as the
Tideturner
sailed back to Zenhala on the wings of a gentle breeze.

“Are you all right?” Dean asked her.

Waverly’s only reply was a silent stare. She was still furious with him. Dean figured that if she was well enough to hold on to her anger, she was well enough to talk.

“Just so I’m clear, is the wedding back on now, or what?”

Waverly’s whole body jolted. Her face was so full of rage it looked like white-hot lava might erupt from her eyes. “There isn’t going to be a wedding. I hate you.”

“You have a funny way of showing it. I mean, you did save
my life back there, after all. Almost got yourself drowned for your trouble.”