The Book of Wonders (8 page)

Sinbad turned on his heel and strode off the
Triumph
and onto the smaller boat.

Rhidan rushed after him, but Zardi felt as if her feet had taken root in the wooden deck.

Assam's head snapped round in her direction. “Surely you will not join this man and his band of crooks?”

She swallowed hard. Assam was asking her the question as if she really had a choice. Out of the corner of her eye she could see one of Sinbad's men waiting for her to move off the boat. His hand rested on his crescent dagger. One way or another she was going to be taken from the
Triumph
, and if she didn't leave now someone could get hurt.

“I'm sorry, Captain,” she whispered. Ripping her feet from the deck, she followed Rhidan.

“Traitors!” Assam shouted, his voice full of hurt.

Traitor
. The word clawed viciously at her insides as she crossed the small boat that had been the
Triumph's
undoing. Assam had got it
so
wrong. Zardi joined Rhidan, who was standing at the prow of the smaller boat, and they watched as the last of the pirates left Assam's vessel. In the marsh she could see Nadeem and two other pirates guiding a raft loaded with the stolen bolts of silk and sacks of grain over to the bank. Soon the water was alive with even more pirates as Sinbad and his men jumped into the river and struck out for the shore.

She turned to Rhidan. “Stay close to me,” she said quietly enough so that Sinbad's men couldn't hear her. “We need to find a way to esc—”

There was a firm nudge at her shoulder. “Swim,” the pirate behind commanded.

Zardi did as she was told and dove into the water, closely followed by Rhidan. She was a strong swimmer, years of living by the Tigress had ensured that, but the marsh water was thick with sediment and reeds reached upward, grasping at her legs and arms. As she fought through the muck, dread curled around her and drew in tight. She remembered Nonna's warning about the impatient sesame seed that burst from its pod, almost as if it wanted to get eaten. Zardi cursed herself. Her fate and Rhidan's were joined with Sinbad's just because she wanted to needle the pirate leader. Who knew what lengths he would go to keep his identity a secret? And how was she going to save Zubeyda and Baba when she was a prisoner herself?

Sopping wet, she climbed onto the bank and flicked the riverweed from her hair. Straightaway Nadeem was at her side, guarding her.

“I suppose you think you're really clever,” Nadeem said through clenched teeth. “Mocking Sinbad the way you did.”

Zardi snorted. “No, not really clever, just smarter than you.” She gave him her most withering look, ignoring the voice in her head that said she probably shouldn't be aggravating her captors. “Captain Assam thought you were in need of help and you tricked him. How can you stand to look at yourself in the mirror?”

“You don't know anything about me,” Nadeem snapped.

“I've seen all I need to.” She narrowed her eyes.

“You're a liar and a coward.”

Nadeem opened his mouth to say something but stopped as Zardi's original guard climbed out of the water and came to stand beside them. Nadeem glared at her instead and strode off.

Zardi looked across the marsh at the
Triumph
. Only Assam, Hakeem, and Rakin were on the boat now, and they were desperately bailing water. The
Falcon's
lifeboat was still lodged in the
Triumph's
hull, and Zardi hoped Assam had enough wits about him to keep it. Selling the lifeboat would go some way toward covering his losses. Assam must have felt her eyes on him, because at that moment he looked up and stared at her, his face deformed with rage and blame. She quickly looked down at her feet.

Rhidan pulled himself up onto the riverbank. His violet eyes were bright with anticipation, and Zardi found herself clenching her hands.
Does he really think Sinbad is going to tell him anything about the Black Isle? He's supposed to be the smart one. Can't he see that we're probably being led to our deaths?

Two pirates marched Zardi and Rhidan inland, through a cluster of date palms and along the path set by Sinbad and his men.

“Zardi,” Rhidan whispered.

She ignored him. She didn't want to deal with his misguided excitement right now.

“Are you angry with me?” he asked. “Come on—I had to say we'd go with Sinbad. It wasn't exactly a request.”

She grudgingly conceded that point in her head but still didn't say anything.

“What happened to the
Triumph
is awful,” Rhidan went on, “but I'm sure Assam will be able to fix it.”

He fell silent, but she could tell he had more to say. It took all of twenty seconds for Rhidan to crack.

“We found him. Can you believe it?”

Zardi's anger boiled over. “Ah yes, your precious Sinbad.” She glared at him. “He's a pirate. For all you know he's taking us somewhere to be killed.”

Rhidan flinched.

“We guessed Sinbad's true identity.” She emphasized each of the words, enjoying the look of horror that now painted her friend's face. “We're a threat.”

“Well, perhaps he can be reasoned with?” Rhidan babbled. “Maybe he'll still tell us where the Varish warriors are or where we can find the Black Isle. Perhaps…” He trailed off, his face suddenly crumpling. “Oh, Zee, when did I become such a numbskull? What are we going to do?”

Zardi shook her head, suddenly feeling mean. Now her friend was just as scared as she was. “You're not the numbskull, Rhidan. I should have never let on I recognized him or revealed my identity.” She rubbed at her eyes. “He was just being so arrogant—”

Rhidan reached for her hand. “It's all right. We'll think of a way to get out of this.”

“Less talking, more walking,” a pirate said, pushing them forward. Zardi's gaze was pulled to their guard's curved dagger. There was no arguing with it.

They continued to walk inland. Away from the river the air was oppressively humid and birds screamed from the treetops as if protesting at the heat. At an ancient-looking olive tree with a gnarled and twisted trunk they turned sharply to the right and headed for the banks of the Tigress again. Looking ahead at the river, Zardi could see that the stretch of marsh had ended, and she spotted the
Falcon
, with its distinctive multicolored sails, moored by the riverbank.

Zardi had forgotten how big the
Falcon
was. It was at least six times the size of the
Triumph
and had a high cabin in the back with five windows and a poop deck. The ship was manned by several crewmen dressed in simple white sailor garb, busy preparing the
Falcon
to sail.

As they got closer the ship's landing planks went down and the pirates bounded onboard, throwing the bundles of loot they had seized to their friends. Nadeem was hoisted onto the shoulders of a sailor with nutmeg-colored hair, and the crew began to cheer and congratulate him on a good job. Zardi's eyes met Nadeem's and he smirked.

Following Assam's cargo onboard, Rhidan and Zardi watched miserably as it was safely stowed belowdecks. A new guard, one who must have been left out of the raid, as he was dressed in white, came to stand by their side. He stood stiff and silent, chewing on the end of his long braid. Zardi got the distinct impression that he was just as nervous as she and Rhidan were.

A water buffalo was sitting on the muddy riverbank, its tail slowly swaying back and forth, its broad face peaceful. The beast didn't have a care in the world, not one single worry. Zardi sighed with envy. If a djinni appeared right now she'd wish to swap places with the buffalo in a heartbeat. Then there would be no pain, no fear—just mud.

I
n no time at all the ship's anchors had been raised and the
Falcon
was sailing downstream.

“That didn't take them long,” Rhidan said, looking over at the pirates who had changed out of their wet black clothing and were now dressed in white linen tunics and softly flaring trousers. “They're not half as scary now,” he continued, sounding bolstered. “They reminded me of giant bats before.”

The young guard beside them snorted with laughter, but quickly tried to disguise it with a coughing fit.

Zardi frowned. She didn't expect laughter from these criminals—it didn't fit. She irritably picked at the wet clothes that clung to her skin, then berated herself for even caring. Wet clothes were the least of her problems.

Up ahead, she could see Sinbad talking to an older man with a shock of thick white hair and skin the color of polished mahogany. Sinbad's companion looked over at her and Rhidan before nodding his head at something the captain said.

Zardi's body stiffened as the man started walking toward them. At her side, she could feel Rhidan thrumming with tension.

The old man stopped in front of them. “My name is Mustupha, but everyone calls me Musty.” He held out a calloused hand. “I'm the shipmaster, Sinbad's second-in-command.”

Zardi looked down at the hand with bemusement. A polite handshake? Musty laughed, his dark brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Is it not customary to shake hands when you meet someone for the first time?”

“Not when you've been kidnapped,” Rhidan pointed out coldly.

Musty dropped his hand. “Ah, yes, that is unfortunate.” He looked at their guard with the long braid. “Zain, you can go. I'll look after these two.”

Zain bowed his head and left.

Musty turned to face Rhidan and Zardi. “I'm sorry events have unfolded in this way. We're not a bad lot. Hopefully, after spending some time with us you'll see that. Sinbad is busy at the moment but hopes to talk with you later.” The shipmaster looked uncomfortable. “You have a choice. You can sit here under guard or you can help me out onboard. Which is it to be?”

Zardi looked around at the sailors who were busy sluicing water off the deck and hanging their wet black clothes on the rigging to dry. The
Falcon
might be a pirate ship but it was a ship, and a big one; she couldn't help but be intrigued by how it operated.

Rhidan sighed. “From the look on my friend's face, I think you'd better put us to work.”

The rest of the day swept by like the river. Zardi found herself helping the crew to darn holes in the spare sails, while Rhidan discovered his seasickness had abandoned him altogether now that he was on a bigger ship. Finding his sea legs gave him new reserves of confidence, and he even had a go at climbing the mast, albeit rather slowly. At points Zardi almost forgot she was a captive. The twins who manned the tiller, Mo and Ali, were always making jokes, their smiles identical right down to a chipped front tooth. Only the turban that Mo wore made it possible to tell them apart. And Musty had even showed her how to use a navigational instrument called a kamal. He explained that the rectangular board with its trailing cord was used to keep records of the latitudes of different ports. His soft voice immediately put her at ease, although his eyes missed nothing and he was quick to correct those around him if he thought they had made an error.

It only occurred to Zardi later, as she sat by herself twining rope from strands of salted coconut fibers, that Sinbad's crew was a clever lot. With their smiles and laughter, they almost made her feel like they were good people. Maybe the crew hoped she and Rhidan wouldn't put up a fight when the time came to dispose of them.

Zardi balled her hands into fists. They were wrong. She and Rhidan would get off this ship—she just didn't know how yet.

Night fell, and lanterns were used to light their way down the river. Zardi was finishing her last length of rope when she spotted Rhidan heading toward her from the other end of the ship. Earlier that afternoon he'd been instructed by Musty to help the ship's cook, a man as round as one of Nonna's cooking pots, with the preparation of tonight's dinner.

“Dinner's up.” Rhidan crouched down next to her. “It's fish stew.” His words were nearly drowned out by a ringing bell. Sailors everywhere dropped what they were doing and stampeded toward the cook, who was standing next to a steaming cauldron. Rhidan wrinkled up his nose in annoyance. “I was hoping we'd get there first.”

“Don't worry about it.” Zardi set the completed rope beside her. “How'd you find the cooking?”

“Not too taxing.” He sat down next to her. “It makes a lot more sense than ship's knots, and the cook is really nice. I even showed him one of Nonna's tricks to clean fish.”

“Nonna would be proud. At least one of us has some skill in the kitchen.” Zardi smiled sadly as she thought of her grandmother but tensed as she saw a tall figure walking toward them.

Sinbad
.

Light and shadow played across his face as he strode past the lanterns on deck.

Zardi and Rhidan scrambled to their feet.

“He's coming for us,” Rhidan hissed.

“We'll jump overboard if we have to,” Zardi said. “Be ready.”

“That's the great plan?” Her friend sounded distinctly unimpressed. “They'll only fish us out again.”

“Just be ready.” Zardi's palms were sweaty. Sinbad and his crew had overrun the
Triumph
and threatened Assam in the morning, and then laughed and joked with each other in the afternoon. They were a paradox. Who knew what they were really capable of?

“At ease, young ones,” Sinbad said softly as he reached them. “I don't plan on hurting you—it's not my way.”

“Captain Assam would say differently.” The words escaped from Zardi's lips before good sense could stop them.
Why can't I keep my mouth shut?

“Would he?” Sinbad looked at her keenly. “Tell me, did I touch a hair on his head?”

She paused, remembering the events on the boat.

“Well, did I?” Sinbad asked again.

“No, I suppose you didn't actually harm him, but you held a knife to his throat.”