The Nine Pound Hammer (20 page)

After several songs, Ray was able to escape and follow Si and Conker back to the velvet cushion by the Pirate Queen.

The Pirate Queen sat as no other woman Ray had ever seen. She slouched off to one side with an elbow on the cushion and kicked one of her high-booted feet out upon the table. Despite her volatile temper, Ray knew he liked her immensely and felt he understood why Buck had fallen in love with her.

The Pirate Queen let her gaze shift from Conker to Si and then to Ray, curiosity or maybe suspicion filling the dark-rimmed eyes with a stormy light.

“I was ready to get rid of that music box,” she growled at Ray. “But you stopped me. Why?”

The ruckus in the galley was enormous, and Si and Conker leaned in anxiously to hear.

“I knew Si could guide you to safety,” Ray said. “I trusted her.”

A wicked, playful smile curled at the corners of the Pirate Queen’s lips.

Conker, who had not been in the pilothouse with them, asked, “What’s the music box?”

The Pirate Queen gulped the last of her claret before pouring another.

“I’ll tell you children, there are strange things in this world. Mermaids even. Do you believe that?” Her eyes fogged a moment with the effects of the wine, but she continued. “I bought that music box years ago from a sea captain in Havana. Said it played their song, which is known to charm many a sailor to his death. But he told me the real value was that if you ever encountered a mermaid, it could charm them back. You could have a mermaid ready to do your bidding.

“That sea captain didn’t really believe this, however. He thought it was nothing more than a child’s amusement, but he had never seen a mermaid for real. I have. They’re a rarity, mind you, but sometimes on a remote key or swimming along the reefs … I knew a music box that played a mermaid’s chantey could be real handy if the time ever came that the
Snapdragon
ran into a brood of siren sisters.”

Ray’s heart was racing.

The Pirate Queen dropped her foot from the table. Her
eyes narrowed as she looked hard at Ray. “I know what you’re hiding,
Ramblers
. I suspect even a pea-brain like Big Jimmie over there could figure it out. You’re taken up with Eustace Buckthorn, a certified friend of the Ramblers. And here I am, listening out for things as I do. Little time back, I hear how the Ramblers are all killed, hunted down by the Gog and murdered. Why? The way I hear it, the Ramblers are protecting a siren.

“And here you are, a couple of scruffs working in Peg Leg Nel’s medicine show, where Eustace’s working, too. And you tell me not to give the Gog the music box! Nel’s harboring that siren, ain’t he?”

Ray looked down at his shifting hands.

“Get up, you scruffs.” The Pirate Queen extinguished her cigar in a half-finished glass of wine and rose to her feet. “Come with me.”

Ray got up nervously. Si gave Conker an anxious glance, but Ray motioned for them to follow. What choice did they have?

The Pirate Queen led the three through the boisterous destruction that had once been the galley. Shoving aside drunken dancers, she grabbed Mister Lamprey by the hair of his beard. “Where did you put the box?”

Lamprey’s eyes watered as he said, “Down … down in the vault, my lady.”

She pushed him toward the fray of dancers and curled her finger back at Ray, Si, and Conker to follow. They went down a companionway to a lower deck. At the
end of a hall, she produced a set of keys and unlocked a door.

As she lit an oil lamp on the wall, Ray realized that this was the booty room. Treasure from hundreds of pillaging missions all up the waterways of the Mississippi River basin lay before them. It was just as Ray imagined Blackbeard’s hoard would look were he still marauding in this age. There were gilded mirrors, jewel-encrusted necklaces, and scores of gold and silver objects, but there were also stacks of now-worthless Confederate money, bellows folding cameras, a nickelodeon, and even a taffy-pulling machine.

The Pirate Queen waded her way through the room, tossing lavish items about as if they were nothing more than salvage-yard scraps. The others looked about with slack-jawed amazement. This was better than any mercantile, better than any museum.

“Come here,” she ordered. “I have one last demand if I’m to set you free.”

On the table was the painted trunk. The Pirate Queen opened the lid and removed a crank box with a tiny curved horn. Then she pulled out a wax cylinder. After fastening it together, she turned the handle. Conker froze as the music began. It was just as Ray remembered Jolie’s singing, but in a sweeter, sharper voice. As he listened closely, he noted that there were many voices singing together in unison. He felt again the uncontrollable desire to hear the music better, to do whatever the singer asked, if only the song would continue.

“Sounds wretched,” Si said, hands over her ears.

Conker swayed and his eyes fluttered. “It … it … it’s the prettiest thing I ever heard,” Conker sighed.

The Pirate Queen stopped it abruptly. “Can’t stand it either,” she said to Si. She disassembled the music box and returned it to the brightly painted trunk. As she handed it to Ray, she said, “The Gog will keep hunting for me until he gets this. I’ll not risk my ship another day with this menace on board. Take it, before I toss it in the river.”

Ray picked it up hesitantly. “Thank you. I appreciate—”

The Pirate Queen snarled off his gratitude, saying, “I suppose I don’t need to remind you that you should take special care with this. Keep it secret. Keep it hidden. I’m not sure why the Gog wants a siren, but the fact that he’s returned, after we’ve heard nothing of him for so long, worries me.”

“Somebody has to stop the Gog,” Ray said. “Won’t you help?”

A strange smile, full of sadness and admiration, tensed on the Pirate Queen’s face. “I have no desire to see whatever evil the Gog is building come to completion, Ray. But if it comes to fighting, I’ll not put my neck out for him to lop off.” She paused, a smirk coming to her face. “But help? I might have something that will help. Just maybe …”

The Pirate Queen fixed Conker in a penetrating gaze. “I’ve got my suspicions about something.”

Conker looked at her curiously.

She went to a chifforobe at the far wall. Opening the
cabinet, she removed something long and wrapped in a black shroud of waxed cerecloth. She carried it back and set it down before Conker.

The Pirate Queen spoke low and solemnly to Conker. “If my instinct is right—and I’ll know in a moment if it is—then this is meant for you.”

Pulling back the coarse cloth, she exposed the corner of an octagonal block of iron and then tugged off the entire cloth to reveal a long-handled hammer. It could have been any hammer used by thousands of workmen to break rocks or drive railroad spikes. But by the fragile trembling of emotion that came to Conker’s face, Ray knew it was no ordinary hammer.

“It can’t be possible. … ” He touched his fingers to the raw weathered wood of the handle.

“Yes,” the Pirate Queen said. “I thought as much. When you pulled my steamer off that shoal tonight, I thought there was only one person who could do such a feat, only one other with that kind of strength. This hammer gave you the strength to do it, Conker. There is no denying the resemblance. You’re John Henry’s son.”

Si asked, “But what … Conker, what is it?”

Not taking his eyes from the hammer, he whispered, “My father’s weapon. The Nine Pound Hammer.”

“R
AY
.”

He heard his name in his sleep, and when it dawned on him that it wasn’t part of his dream, Ray opened his eyes.

The yellow explosion of Hobnob’s hair gave Ray a start.

“You awake?” Hobnob smiled.

Ray looked around and saw he was the last one still sleeping in the galley. He could hear the pirates’ voices bouncing cheerfully around the decks up above. The disaster that had been the galley was now back to relative order, although how Ray had slept through it all remained a mystery.

“Is it still morning?” Ray’s voice croaked with sleep.

“Not yet even midmorning. Been wanting to talk to you when the others weren’t about.”

Ray sat up on the velvet cushion, wiping the crust from his eyes.

“You en’t told her, have you?” Hobnob squatted at Ray’s side, his dandelion hat on his knee.

“What?” Ray asked.

“That you was the one that set me free in the Lost Wood.”

“Oh. No.”

“That’s good. Don’t tell her. Best not. She’ll have our thumbs if she knows the long and short of it all. But this is twice you done me a good turn.” Hobnob poked a friendly finger against Ray’s chest.

“That’s okay—”

“I’ve got a mind to pay you back, Ray. Set things square, if you see.”

Before Ray could argue, Hobnob plucked a dandelion from the hat.

“You take this. Ever you get in a fix just give three claps of your hands, call my name three times, and blow three breaths on the petals. Got that?”

“Sure,” Ray said, taking the flower.

“I’ll come, anywhere. None’s the difference where you might be.”

Since Hobnob could fly, this gave Ray an idea. “Actually, I do have something you could do.”

“That right?” Hobnob asked enthusiastically.

“I’ve got a sister; her name’s Sally. Before I met you, she was heading south on an orphan train and has probably
been adopted by now. The only thing is, my father is still alive.”

“He is! Congratulations.” Hobnob smiled.

“But see, I don’t know where he is. It’s too much to explain, but if he does come back, he’d want to meet my sister. And I’ve got no idea where she is.”

“Ah, you want to find her? I see. I see. Wanting to keep kin with kin; that’s it, en’t it? My poor old ma. Left her back in the old country—”

“Right. Can you help?”

“I’ll do my best, Ray. You know what towns that train was heading to?”

“No.”

“Rail line, any such like that?”

“Sorry, no.”

“None’s the difference. I’ll do my best—”

“Oh. The woman who was arranging the adoptions is Miss Corey, Constance Corey, I think. And this rich man named Grevol owned the train. It was a beautiful train. Really fancy. That might help.”

“Sure. I’ll poke around, ask some questions, and drop by your medicine show to let you know what I find.”

“Thanks,” Ray said. “And of course, if I can ever help you—”

“No, no.” Hobnob waved his hands. “Least I can do.”

Ray got to his feet and followed Hobnob out into the bright sun of the deck.

*  *  *

“I’m sorry I can’t persuade you three,” the Pirate Queen said. “I’ve been known from time to time to keep a promise, and I suppose you’ve earned your freedom.”

The Pirate Queen’s arms were locked behind her coat as she walked to the stern. The crew was busy readying the steamer while the Pirate Queen spoke with Ray, Si, and Conker.

“We’re taking the
Snapdragon
south, out into the Gulf. The Gog will be looking for us, and it’s best we put some distance between us and him.”

She produced an envelope sealed with drops of black wax and handed it to Ray. “For Eustace. Can I trust that he’ll get it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ray said, placing it in his pocket next to the toby containing the dandelion and the rabbit’s foot.

She escorted the three to the gangplank that led to a grassy bank by the mouth of the creek. Ray held the siren-song music box, secured in a gunnysack. Conker had the cerecloth-covered Nine Pound Hammer over his shoulder.

“I do hope we meet again.” The Pirate Queen smiled briefly and shook each of their hands. “You’ll find your way back to Peg Leg Nel’s train?”

Si lifted her tattooed hand. “Four days’ travel northeast.”

“Well, be careful and stay to the woods if you can.”

“We will,” Ray assured her. He waved to the crew, who had stopped their work to watch the three depart. The ragtag pirates pressed around the bulwarks and waved
heartily. The Pirate Queen drew her pistol and shot it several times over their heads, cursing and roaring until they scuttled back to their posts.

The adventure aboard the
Snapdragon
had deepened the friendship between Ray, Si, and Conker. As they traveled across the wooded lowlands, they laughed and retold stories of the feats they had each performed, over and over. By campfire at night, Si especially enjoyed mimicking Conker’s reaction to Rosie and the way Conker had tried to fight Big Jimmie. Conker retaliated with his own version of Si tied to the crane and desperate to murder the Pirate Queen, but even Conker had to agree it wasn’t nearly as funny.

As they traveled toward the medicine show, their conversations returned to everyday life on the
Ballyhoo
. Ray was not sure why, but Conker began acting strange. A glum mood descended over him as they got closer to home.

“Conker, think you’ll change your act after what happened on the
Snapdragon?
” Ray asked one afternoon in an effort to lift his spirits. “With the Nine Pound Hammer you could pull the whole
Ballyhoo
—”

“I’m not changing nothing, Ray,” Conker said quickly, drawing the Nine Pound Hammer close against his side. “I don’t want you telling Nel about that.”