The Ship of Lost Souls 1 (12 page)

But Ben was scanning the port, looking as if he'd left his brain on the spice merchant's table with the angel-faced girl. “That's nice,” he muttered.

“All right then,” Scarlet cut her story short. “What's new with you?”

“Hm? Oh, me? Well, you know. Domestic things. Respectable things. I'm learning to manage my future father-in-law's tobacco plantation now. It's a lot of work, but a lucrative business.”

Scarlet raised an eyebrow at him. She'd never heard the Lost Souls's former captain use the words
respectable
and
lucrative
without following up with a joke.

“Oh, and we're—Cecily and I, that is—we're getting married next year. And now there's all this talk about having children right away, to, you know, ensure that there's a next generation to take over the plantation. Real children, Scarlet. Can you imagine?” His voice trembled ever so slightly.

Scarlet didn't know what to say. Ben Hodgins, soon to be a father. He suddenly seemed very far away although he stood right next to her.

“Congratulations,” she said, hoping it didn't fall flat.

Ben turned to face her. “It's a scary thing, Scarlet. I thought being captain of the Lost Souls was frightening business. That has nothing on raising a child. See—”

“You found being captain frightening?” Scarlet cut in. That couldn't be. Ben's confidence had been practically contagious.

He nodded. “Sure. It's a tough job. But nothing, like I said—”

“Right, right, like being a father,” Scarlet interrupted again. “But the crew always loved you. If you picked up a pan flute and danced off the plank, they would have followed, single file. You never even—”

“Scarlet.” It was Ben's turn to interrupt. “What's wrong? Something's up, I can sense it.” Finally, he was listening.

Scarlet lowered her eyes. She would have bared her soul to the old Ben Hodgins. But this well-groomed version? She wasn't sure.

“Tell me.”

She hesitated and scanned his face for a trace of her old friend. She found it in his eyes, the eyes that had welcomed her that first day, so long ago. The eyes she could never resist confiding in.

She confided again. She explained everything that had gone on in the past week as fast as she could but without leaving out any important details.

Once she'd gotten to the part about how they'd left Lucas on the Island of Smelly Wild Pigs, Ben was looking overwhelmed. Evidently not even the angst of impending fatherhood could compare to her situation.

“Sink me, Scarlet, I don't know what to say. That business with Lucas really scuttles. But I know you'll pull through. You're a good captain, and you'll figure it out.”

And with that, he looked back toward the merchant's stall to check on his future wife.

Scarlet felt her cheeks flush. He couldn't even focus on her for more than a moment before returning to his own affairs. She pressed on. “Well, I'm not so sure of that. I don't even know if I'm captain material, to tell you the truth. I often wonder if I can ever live up to the great Ben Hodgins . . .”

She hadn't meant for that last bit to slip out. But it got Ben's full attention. He snapped his head away from the port and stared at her. And when he spoke, he sounded almost angry.

“Scarlet, what's the matter with you? You don't sound like the captain I appointed. ‘The great Ben Hodgins'? That's bilge. A captain's only as good as his crew and you know it. I chose you because you're an essential part of the Lost Souls. But if you don't know that, and show it, how will the others know?”

“But . . . but,” she sputtered, aware that she was sounding more and more childish the longer she persisted. “How can you be sure I'm the one to lead? I don't know what to do. Can't you give me some direction?”

“Benjamin! We have to go!”

“Coming!” Ben called back, in a deeper voice than the one with which he addressed Scarlet. She shook her head and started to turn away, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“I chose you because you're one of the bravest people I've ever met. Remember when you saved me from the King's Man years ago? You don't run away from problems. You face them. And what's more, you care about the crew. They need that. Look, Scarlet, you have all the answers you need. You've just got to listen to the people around you and, more importantly, listen to yourself. All the answers you need are there.”

He slapped her on the shoulder, like a fellow sailor. “Now go find that treasure.” Then he marched back into port. To his future wife and his new life.

Scarlet watched his back for a minute, until it disappeared among a sea of other grown-ups. Then she turned and ran.

She said very little to Tim, Emmett, and Edwin as they rowed out to the Island of Smelly Wild Pigs. The sun had ducked behind the horizon, leaving the violet sky blotched with rosy-gray and streaks of peach. She'd considered staying on board the
Hop
, but decided at the last minute to accompany the boys and perhaps have a word with Lucas before they rejoined the rest of the crew. As the rowboat rose and fell with the waves, she wondered what she'd say. Declare a truce? Apologize for leaving him to be mauled by a pack of sweaty swine? Or tell him that if he were ever caught stealing again, the next punishment would make the pigs look downright sociable?

“I don't see him,” Emmett said. Scarlet tore her eyes away from the clouds and looked toward the shore. The island's thin strip of beach looked empty. Beyond it, a wall of trees rose straight up from the sand. Lucas was nowhere to be seen.

Emmett and Edwin vaulted over the side of the boat and splashed through the shallows to the shore, calling Lucas's name. Only a creepy silence followed. Nothing moved, not even the wall of green that separated jungle and sea.

Scarlet's heart began to pound.
The pigs,
she thought.
The pigs must have gotten him.
Oh, what was I thinking, leaving him on the island overnight?
Visions of horse teeth and sharpened hooves flooded her brain, and she gripped the side of the boat, certain now she was going to spew.

“Scarlet, stop. You're rocking the boat,” Tim said. “He's probably hiding.” But even her quartermaster looked concerned as the twins ran up and down the beach, shouting for Lucas. They ducked into the jungle for a quick look, disappearing behind the leafy curtain. Minutes passed. Scarlet still held the side of the boat, afraid she'd faint if she let go.

Tim wouldn't tear his gaze from the shore. “C'mon, Lucas,” he muttered. “Stop being a scoundrel and come out.”

But when the twins emerged, they were alone. They walked slowly down to the shoreline and into the shallow water.

“Well?” Scarlet managed to say.

Emmett shrugged. “No trace, Captain.”

Edwin shook his head. “He's gone.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

After envisioning all the worst possible ways Lucas could have met his end, from suffocating under the stench of wild pigs to falling headfirst out of a tree he'd climbed to escape the beasts, Scarlet somehow fell into an uneasy sleep. When she awoke the next morning, she decided to do something. She decided to take someone's advice.

You have all the answers you need
, Ben had told her.
You've just got to listen. Listen to the people around you and, more importantly, listen to yourself. All the answers you need are there.

And so, as perplexed as she was by her meeting with the new Ben Hodgins, she had to admit she had no better ideas. She would listen as hard as she could and hope for an answer to her most pressing question, “How the flotsam am I going to deal with this blasted situation?”

Listen inside and out. Scarlet squeezed her eyes shut and tried to listen. Beside her, tangled in her own hammock, little Ronagh muttered in her sleep. Something about a pet monkey that juggled daggers and played the trombone. Despite herself, Scarlet giggled. Not exactly the answer she was looking for.

She slipped out of her hammock, pushed her bare feet into her boots, noted a new hole under the left big toe, and crept out of the cabin. No one else was awake except a pair of pirates on lookout duty. Even the sun had yet to peek over the horizon, although the sky was growing pale in preparation.

Listen. She stood on the quarterdeck and closed her eyes again. She heard the slap of waves against the hull and the cry of two gulls overhead. The wind whooshing in her ears. A fish breaking through the water close by. But no answers.

Maybe they weren't going to make themselves heard so easily. Maybe she'd have to be quieter, stealthier, sneak up on them when they least expected it. The thought amused her, although she suspected that her lack of sleep was making it more amusing than it really was. Still, she decided to approach the task like a spy. She'd make herself scarce and listen all day.

The other Lost Souls began to emerge from their cabins just as the sun climbed over the horizon. They divvied up a few loaves of bread and some bananas stolen from port the previous day, then got down to their chores, quieter than usual. No one mentioned Lucas, but he was clearly on everyone's mind.

Scarlet heard the first rumors while rounding a corner on the cabin deck, mid-morning. At the sound of hushed voices, she flattened herself against the wall and peeked around it, spying two boys whispering as they untangled fishing nets.

“They say the pigs got him, but I think he's hiding,” said Elmo. “That'd be just like old Lucas, trying to get revenge by scaring us.”

“Shh,” Monty hissed, glancing around. “I heard Lucas went mad with fright that night and joined up with a band of monkeys. He's out there now, swinging in the treetops.”

“That's bilge!” Elmo exclaimed, then lowered his voice. “How would anyone know that?”

“I heard it from Stephen who heard it from Ronagh who heard it from Emmett, and Emmett was on the island searching for Lucas last night, so he'd know better than anyone.”

Monty shrugged. “Could happen.”

“Could not. Lucas is too big to swing in treetops. The branches would break.”

Scarlet rolled her eyes and moved away. Of course it was ridiculous—Lucas, captain of a posse of monkeys? Fitting perhaps, but complete bilge. Still, if rumors were already making the rounds, they'd probably grow more far-fetched by the hour.

She was sneaking past Lucas's own cabin when her ears—now in full spy mode—picked up another intriguing conversation. This time one of the voices belonged to Gil Jenkins; she could tell even before she peeked into the room and saw the boy standing beside Lucas's hammock with Sam and Charlie. Gil, looking regretful, held an old dagger that had lost its handle.

“This was his first weapon,” Gil told the others. “But it's mine now, since I was closest to him.”

“Gil, you don't know he's dead for sure,” Charlie pointed out.

Gil shrugged and touched the dull blade. “But it's most likely. Even Lucas couldn't survive a pack of smelly wild pigs.” He bowed his head. “He would've made a good captain. Now there's no way we can mutiny. Too bad. Would've been good fun.”

From her hiding place on the other side of the doorway, Scarlet gasped. So they
had
been planning to mutiny. Those rotten little stinkers. She edged closer to the door, imagining the looks on their faces if she leaped into the room and caught them in this act of treason. What was the punishment for treason, anyway? Maybe a good old-fashioned keelhaul, a torture reserved for only the nastiest offenders. It involved binding a traitor's hands to a rope that passed underneath the ship, from bow to stern. He'd be thrown overboard, and the pirates on board would pull him back and forth under the vessel, like a human careening tool. Scarlet could practically taste the satisfaction she'd feel watching horrible little Gil Jenkins sputtering in the dark waters, begging for mercy.

Sam wiped his nose with his sleeve. “He was a strong pirate,” he said as if he'd come to Lucas's empty hammock to pay his last respects.

“He probably would've led us to the treasure,” Charlie added. The boys fell silent for a minute, then looked at one another and shrugged as if they'd run out of respectful things to say. Even Scarlet couldn't think of anything else to add. Strong and driven by the promise of the legendary treasure summed Lucas up pretty well.

The boys abandoned their eulogy and made ready to leave. Scarlet scurried back down the hallway and up the stairs to the main deck where she busied herself studying cracks in the floorboards. This listening-for-answers strategy had only resulted in a dozen more questions—like, for instance: Would Lucas really have made a good leader? A better leader than her? She tried to picture him as captain and decided that while he might keep their pockets full of pieces of eight (well, his own pockets, anyway), life under Lucas's command would scuttle.

Lucas simply wasn't a true Lost Soul. The Lost Souls' way of life had never been good enough for him, and he'd even gone against one of their core beliefs to hoard bounty for himself. Lucas didn't care about the crew. He only wanted the pillagings. Scarlet, on the other hand, cared fiercely about the Lost Souls. She
wanted
to lead them, and she wanted to do it well.

She stopped and looked out at the ocean. The sun shimmered on its surface as if fireworks were exploding just underneath. As she watched the sea, her ears picked up one last important sound, an almost foreign noise. It was the sound of silence on deck. Her crew was going about their chores without songs or jokes or banter, each on his or her own.

Scarlet chewed her lip. This would never do. The
Margaret's Hop
was supposed to be a jolly home for children throughout the islands, and the Lost Souls counted on Scarlet to make it so. They also looked to her to fulfill their mission and lead them to the treasure.

It was time to make good on her promises.

“All good pirates, come to order!”

Scarlet stood on the poop deck near the wheel, looking down on her crew. She planted her boots firmly on the deck, swept her hair off her face, and set her fists on her hips. The crew looked back at her expectantly, and she saw a few glances pass between Lucas's allies.
Be strong,
she told herself.
Be Captain.

“I'm sure you're all wondering why we dropped anchor for this meeting,” she began in her best captain voice. More glances passed, along with a few shrugs. “Well, you see, it's . . .” Scarlet stopped. This wasn't right. She sat down on the poop deck, swinging her legs out over the edge toward them. The Lost Souls clustered closer.

“All right. First I want to . . . apologize.” It was one of the hardest words she'd ever had to spit out. A few murmurs and eyebrows rose before her. “Of course I'm talking about Lucas. I didn't mean for this to happen, and I'm no less upset than any of you that he's disappeared. He broke an important rule, yes, but he didn't deserve to . . . you know . . . if indeed he is . . .” Scarlet found that she couldn't even say it. “Anyway, it's made me think about my position as captain, as I know some of you have been doing, too.” Here she looked directly at Gil Jenkins, who flushed and folded his arms over his chest. Behind him, Jem was studying the floorboards with an intensity that told Scarlet he'd known about Lucas's plan.
Would he have joined the mutiny?
she wondered, then dismissed the thought. Jem Fitzgerald was too good for that.

Scarlet shook her head and continued. “From now on, if there's a problem with the way things are run on board, I want you to tell
me
. Not your cabinmate. Me.” She surveyed Lucas's followers, letting her eyes linger on Gil for a long moment. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then seemed to think better of it and shut it. Neither Charlie nor Sam made a sound. This didn't surprise Scarlet; without Lucas to lead them, the rebels were practically powerless.

All the same, she still wouldn't have minded keelhauling their sorry rear ends.

“I want you all to know that I'm not giving up on Lucas,” she said. “We'll head back to the Island of Smelly Wild Pigs first thing tomorrow for another look around. We'll look for clues and hopefully find some answers.”

A few crew members nodded. Gil looked a little nervous, probably because he'd already claimed some of Lucas's belongings.

“We're also not giving up on the treasure,” she added. “Our first attempt failed, but we'll learn from it and try again.” She looked at Jem, who looked up from the floorboards and nodded. “I made a promise, and I'm not going back on it.

“But now, before heading back to Island X, there's something we have to do.” She hoped they'd be up for this next part. “This is an important step in finding the treasure. Plus, it could be fun.” She hopped off the deck and stood among them. “Tonight, we're going to get suited up for a raid.”

“A raid?” one pirate exclaimed.

“Yesss!” Ronagh punched the air.

A few others exchanged crafty grins and began to whisper among themselves.

“I'll have to mend my cloak!” one cried.

“I've been practicing some new ghostly noises,” another pirate said excitedly. “Wanna hear?”

Scarlet smiled. Nothing brought the Lost Souls together like a ship raid.

“So what are we raiding for?” Emmett and Edwin chorused.

“Seriously,” Emmett added, “what's the purpose of the raid?”

“Who cares?” Smitty yelled. “It's a raid, mates. Let's go.”

“Actually, there is a purpose. Three purposes, really. One: to scare the pants off some deserving pirates. Two: to steal the usual food and supplies. Three: to get some answers. From the
Dark Ranger
pirates.”

Someone gasped. “We're raiding the
Dark Ranger
again?”

Scarlet scanned the crowd until she found the horror-stricken face she was looking for. “Don't you worry, Fitz,” she said. “You can trust me.”