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Authors: Jon Mayhew

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BOOK: The Eye of Neptune
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‘What did Woolford-Potts say just before he . . . he . . .’ Georgia couldn’t bear to say it.

‘It sounded like ‘‘Cryptos’’,’ Dakkar replied, keeping an eye on the passing crowds. ‘Maybe he’s the ‘‘C’’ your uncle mentioned.’

They scurried on down the street and then ducked into the trees beyond the town.

‘Wait here for a second,’ Georgia whispered. ‘We can tell if anyone is following us in these woods.’

They stood, hardly daring to breathe, listening for a snapped twig or a rustling bush, but heard nothing apart from the croaking of frogs and the chirping of crickets.

Reassured, they carefully crept to their mooring place and climbed into the
Liberty
. Dakkar reversed her out of the inlet while Georgia unrolled the map. She examined it, muttering under her breath and tracing their path with a trembling finger.

‘That’s it – round there, hard to port,’ she said as they followed Woolford-Potts’s directions.

‘Do you think this Cryptos has Oginski and your uncle?’ Dakkar asked her, staring into the darkness as he steered.

‘It’s possible,’ Georgia replied. ‘If Cryptos is the ‘‘C’’ my uncle was worried about.’

Dakkar gasped and stopped the
Liberty
. ‘Look,’ he said.

A huge tree grew out of the bank of the creek. Its roots twisted around themselves like snakes and dipped into the water. The white moonlight shone on a skull carved deep into the trunk of the tree.

‘It can’t be far now,’ Dakkar said.

The trees and branches seemed to close in as they drifted on. At times the water became shallow and the
Liberty
scraped along the bottom of the creek. Leaves and branches split the moonlight into shafts of light that gave the place an eerie, unnatural feel.

Nightbirds broke the constant hum of insects, and every now and then something large would splash in the water under the trees.

A light in the distance told Dakkar that a cabin stood at the end of the creek.

‘We’d better tie her up here and make our way to the cabin,’ Dakkar whispered.

‘You mean, swim in this water?’ Georgia said, staring at him. ‘There could be alligators in there.’

‘Let’s hope they’re not hungry then,’ Dakkar said, winking. But he swallowed hard as he climbed out of the
Liberty
.

Outside, the air felt sticky and hot. The smell of the swamp, of decay and sweetness, filled his nostrils. He lowered himself down the side of the
Liberty
and into the warm water. Something slimy slithered past his ankle and he stifled a scream.

‘What’s wrong?’ Georgia hissed at him.

‘Nothing,’ he said, treading water gently. ‘Just a fish, I think.’

Georgia splashed into the water next to Dakkar. He put his finger to his lips and then pushed off towards the cabin light.

‘What was that?’ Georgia groaned.

‘What?’ Dakkar said, frowning over his shoulder at her.

‘Something slimy brushed past my leg,’ Georgia whimpered. ‘I really don’t like this.’

‘Oh, stop it,’ Dakkar said softly. The water had become shallower here and he could stand up. ‘Like I said, it’s probably just fish or water snakes.’

‘Water snakes?’ Georgia’s eyes widened. ‘I do
not
like snakes.’

‘I prefer them to pistols,’ Dakkar said, staring straight up a gun muzzle.

A group of rough-looking pirates stood on the bank of the creek.

‘Who have we here?’ a dark, hawkish man said.

‘Looks like kids, Martinez,’ said another. This man was stocky with a straggly, grey beard.

‘Looks like trouble to me, Renzo,’ Martinez said, spitting into the water. ‘Lafitte needs to know right away.’

Martinez nodded to Dakkar and Renzo offered a hand to pull Dakkar up. Georgia climbed up after him.

Dakkar weighed up the distance between Martinez and himself. If he made a sudden move, the pistol would blow a hole in him.

‘Keep your hands up, lads,’ Renzo said, producing his own pistol.

The third pirate, a thin, scrawny boy not much older than Dakkar, remained silent and followed them as they trudged towards the cabin. They stood on the veranda and the whole building rocked slightly. It seemed to Dakkar that the swamp was busy sucking the building back into itself. The planks were rotten and the curtains billowed ragged through broken windows. Martinez shoved Dakkar in the back and he stumbled through the flimsy wooden door, falling to his knees.

The warm and smoky atmosphere made Dakkar’s eyes water as he was hoofed into the cabin. The interior was just as decrepit as the outside, with rotting plank walls, a sagging floor and vegetation encroaching through some of the gaps in the walls. Lafitte’s men sat at the worn wooden tables and looked up in surprise at Dakkar and Georgia. Some even leapt to their feet, hands gripping the hilts of daggers.

Dakkar clambered to his feet, rubbing his skinned knees. He glanced over to meet Georgia’s glowering eyes.

‘And who or what do we have here?’ said a heavily accented voice behind them.

Dakkar turned. A short dark-haired man sprawled in a high-backed wooden chair, leaning his pointed chin on his bejewelled knuckles. His rich red tunic and fine-leather knee-high boots marked him out as the leader of these ragged pirates.

‘Children, Jean,’ Renzo said, waving a hand at Dakkar and Georgia as if he were a magician and had just conjured them up.

‘Imbecile!’ Lafitte snapped, straightening in his seat. ‘I can see they are children! Where did they come from?’

‘We found ’em in the water,’ Martinez said, his eyes widening. ‘They were sneaking up on us.’

‘Sneaking up on us?’ Lafitte echoed. He jumped out of the chair and stared up at the hulking pirate. ‘All two of them?’

‘Uh, yeah,’ Martinez muttered, breaking eye contact with Lafitte.

‘It’s a good job I put you on watch, Martinez,’ Lafitte sneered. ‘Anyone else could have been overpowered by such overwhelming odds!’

Laughter rippled among the other men as Martinez stood there looking in bewilderment from Lafitte to Dakkar.

The pirate captain turned to face Dakkar. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I am an American citizen and demand that you treat me accordingly!’ Georgia said, her cheeks reddening.

‘The last “American citizen” I met was the captain of a navy frigate.’ Lafitte grinned as he paced around her. ‘He went overboard to talk to the sharks. Perhaps you are spies, sent by the American government.’

‘Do we look like spies?’ Georgia snorted. Her neck was red now as she glared at Lafitte.

‘In my experience, mademoiselle,’ Lafitte said, smirking, ‘spies seldom look like spies!’

‘They’re just little ones,’ Martinez murmured, recovering from Lafitte’s joke at his expense.

‘Nevertheless, they could have been sent by the navy,’ Lafitte said, squinting at Dakkar. ‘Nothing surprises me with these Americans.’

‘S’il vous plaît, monsieur,’ Dakkar said, stepping forward. Georgia stared at him wide-eyed and Lafitte’s eyebrows arched in surprise as he continued in fluent French. ‘We mean you no harm. We have come here seeking my guardian and this girl’s uncle.’

‘You speak like a Frenchman,’ Lafitte replied in the same language. ‘Where are you from?’

‘My name is Dakkar. I have travelled from England, sir,’ he replied.

‘You speak French well for an Englishman and yet you look like no Englishman I’ve ever met,’ Lafitte said. ‘You could be from India or the Far East. Who is it that you seek?’

‘I’m looking for my mentor and guardian, Count Oginski,’ Dakkar said, trying to meet Lafitte’s gaze.

Lafitte pursed his lips. ‘Oginski,’ he said simply, and looked at Georgia. ‘And you, my dear, what is your uncle’s name?’ he said in English.

‘It’s familiar to you,’ Georgia said, narrowing her eyes. ‘Robert Fulton. You worked for him last year.’

‘Maybe I did, maybe not,’ Lafitte said, shrugging. ‘But why have you come to me if you’re looking for them?’

‘Because we think that someone you know might be interested in them,’ Dakkar said. ‘Does the name Cryptos mean anything to you?’

The men around Lafitte gave a collective hiss and shuffled back an inch or two.

‘That name upsets my men, mon ami,’ Lafitte said. ‘Choose your words carefully or I cannot vouch for your safety. You think this Cryptos has taken your precious guardians?’

‘We do,’ Dakkar said hastily. ‘But at the very least he may be able to help us find them.’

A strange look of horror and amusement twisted Lafitte’s dark features. ‘Then we should make you as comfortable as possible,’ he replied. ‘And see if we can help you find him. We’re all very helpful around here, eh, mes amis?’

Lafitte gave a grin and looked around at the pirates. They responded with a horrible chuckle.

‘Martinez,’ he continued, ‘could you show these two to the guest rooms?’

‘Yes, Lafitte,’ Martinez said, leering at them. ‘Come this way.’

Frowning, Dakkar followed Martinez, with Georgia close behind. They crossed the dilapidated room and Martinez threw open another door. It was dark and dank inside but empty.

‘What’s this?’ Dakkar began, but a sharp kick sent him sprawling into the room and Georgia landed on top of him, winding him.

The door slammed shut, leaving them in pitch blackness. Dakkar groaned and rolled over.

‘Georgia?’ he said, squinting into the dark.

‘I’m here,’ she whispered. ‘But I don’t think much of Lafitte’s guest room.’

‘It’s nothing personal, mes amis,’ Lafitte called through the door in French. ‘You wanted to meet Cryptos? Well, I suspect he might want to meet you too. I’ve heard rumours he’s been hunting for someone and I think I can turn a dollar or two out of it.’

Dakkar launched himself at the door but it proved surprisingly robust considering the rotten wood from which it was made.

‘Save your energy.’ Lafitte laughed. ‘You’ll need it when I sell you to Count Cryptos!’

Chapter Eighteen

The Wrath Child

Dakkar hurled himself at the door once again. Pain lanced up his shoulder but the door didn’t budge. He staggered back on to the floor and groaned.

His eyes became accustomed to the gloom and Dakkar saw Georgia’s pale, worried face.

‘We’re trapped,’ she whispered, ‘but maybe it’s not such a bad thing. I mean, Lafitte is taking us to Cryptos, after all. That’s what we want, right?’

‘I’d rather meet him on my own terms, not shackled and delivered like some prize,’ Dakkar muttered, searching the floor and walls. Finally, he gave a hiss of triumph and pulled at a vine that poked its way through a tiny crack in the corner of the room.

Outside, the talk had become louder, more raucous. Someone played an accordion and sang for a while. Dakkar could hear the clink of tankards as the men drank.

‘Let me help,’ Georgia said, hurrying over to Dakkar and pulling at the vine.

Gradually the crack widened. Rotten wood crumbled away in shards but the hole was only big enough for them to get their arms through. Dakkar grabbed the edge of the floorboards with both hands and listened to the ebb and flow of the singing and talking.

‘I know this song,’ he whispered. ‘There’s a chorus coming – it might be loud enough to cover the sound of this plank coming up.’

The singing reached a crescendo. Some men shouted and banged their tankards on the tables. Dakkar heaved at the plank. With a crack, the nails popped from the joists beneath. He could see the ground below. He paused, waiting to hear the door opening or the alarm being raised, but the tuneless wailing continued. Another chorus came up and Dakkar pulled again. Another board popped.

‘Now, quickly, through the hole and underneath the cabin,’ Dakkar said.

Georgia slipped into the darkness and he followed her silently.

The ground under the cabin felt damp and thorny. Dakkar bit his lip as he dragged himself through the undergrowth. Footsteps thumped above his head and the singing droned on. It dawned on him that the cabin sat on an island in the middle of the creek. Bridges from one patch of dry land to the next had brought them there once they had been caught.

Dakkar slid into the water at the side of the cabin, pressing his finger to his lips as he noticed Martinez and Renzo on the veranda, grumbling to each other.

‘This is the second watch I’ve had to do in three days,’ Martinez said, kicking the side of the cabin. ‘And every time a night watch.’

‘Me too,’ Renzo sighed. ‘And I love a good sing-song.’

‘Maybe they don’t like your singing.’ Martinez laughed.

Keeping to the edge of the creek and crouching in the water, Dakkar and Georgia slipped past the two pirates. Soon they had made their way back to the
Liberty
.

‘What now?’ Georgia muttered. ‘We’re no nearer getting to Cryptos.’

‘No, but Lafitte knows where he is,’ Dakkar said, pulling the hatch down and climbing into the captain’s seat. ‘We just need to persuade him to tell us. And stealth is
not
the best tactic for that.’

BOOK: The Eye of Neptune
2.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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