Peter And The Secret Of Rundoon Part 18

"Yes?" said Smee. "Thinking what?"

"Thinking maybe we could help each other."

The pirates snickereda"all but Smee.

"But if you was already over at the fort," he said, "how did you get here so quick?"

"I know this island," said s.h.i.+ning Pearl. "I know all the paths and the hiding places. I know it a lot better than the Scorpions do." One by one, she looked each pirate in the eye. "And better than any of you do."

The men scowled and exchanged glances.

"All right, then," said Smee. "Seems to me it's a good thing thataWhat's your name, little girl?"

"s.h.i.+ning Pearl."

"Seems to me," continued Smee, "it's a good thing s.h.i.+ning Pearl found us. Seems to me maybe we can help each other out." He looked around. "Any of you men want to argue?"

None of the men spoke.

"All right, then," said Smee. "s.h.i.+ning Pearl, welcome to the crew."

CHAPTER 34.

THE BORROWED CAMEL.

MOLLY AND GEORGE found it more difficult than they expected to get off the Mich.e.l.le. Leonard Aster, well aware of Molly's tendency to take matters into her own hands, had left orders with Captain Stavis that the two children were to be watched closely, and Captain Stavis had relayed these orders to the crew.

But sailors being sailors, and a port being close at hand, it was not long before the crew became distracted. By the second evening, Molly and George, having waited impatiently all day, saw their chance to sneak off. As darkness fell, with the crew dozing after a bit too much food and grog, they sneaked onto the s.h.i.+p's deserted main deck and tiptoed down the gangway to the dock.

Once ash.o.r.e, they ducked behind a huge pile of traps next to a stone building; the traps reeked of dead fish.

"Now what?" whispered George.

"One thing for sure," said Molly. "We must get away from these awful traps."

"We can't go 'round in these clothes," said George. "We need robes, like the one your father wore."

Molly nodded. "I saw laundry lines from the s.h.i.+p, by a big house up that way. We can borrow some robes."

"Borrow?" said George.

"Desperate times," said Molly, "call for desperate measures."

"What does that mean?" said George.

"It's an expression my father uses: it means sometimes you have to borrow a robe," said Molly. She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out some coins, the last of the French money her mother had given her. "Besides, we'll leave this as partial payment. Come on."

The streets were nearly empty, as most of Ashmar was having supper; nevertheless, Molly and George kept to the narrow alleys as they moved away from the harbor and up a hill, their mouths watering as the aroma of cooking wafted out of every house they pa.s.sed.

"There," Molly whispered. Just ahead was a whitewashed stone house, much larger than its neighbors, with a fine view of the harbor. Along the side of the house was a clothesline, on which hung a half dozen white robes. Next to the clothesline, kneeling in a patch of dirt and contentedly chewing its cud, was a camel.

Molly and George looked around. The street was deserted. With nightfall now complete, they crept in darkness around the side of the house, took the two smallest-looking robes off the clothesline, and put them on. George's fit fine; Molly's was too large, but she rolled and tucked it until it was serviceable. When they were dressed, Molly put the coins on a stone next to the clothesline and whispered, "Let's go."

George didn't move. He was looking at the camel.

"Why don't we borrow this as well?" he whispered.

"Are you insane?" hissed Molly.

"Molly, we've got to go miles across the desert," George said. "On foot it could take us forever."

"But we don't know how to ride a camel."

"It's got a sort of saddle," said George, eyeing the wooden contraption strapped to the camel's back. "How different can it be from a horse?"

Molly frowned. She didn't like the idea of taking a camela"stealing was the word for it, she knewa"but they were desperate. She had to find her father and Peter.

"All right," she said.

Quickly, George untied the camel. Then he and Molly climbed into the saddle, wedging themselves in, George in front and Molly in back. George dug his heels into the camel's sides and said, "Up!"

Slowly, the camel turned its head and looked back with an expression of what appeared to be annoyance. It turned its head forward again and resumed chewing its cud.

"Fine bit of horsemans.h.i.+p," said Molly.

"I suppose you can do better," said George.

"I'm not the one who said he could ride a camel," said Molly.

George, irritated now, brought his legs out farther and kicked the camel hard. This time the camel, rather than turning around, raised its head and emitted a loud, unhappy, gurgling sound. From inside the house came a shout.

"Someone's heard us!" said Molly.

George kicked the camel again; the camel responded with another protest, this one even louder.

Now Molly and George heard several shouting voices and running feet.

"They're coming!" Molly said. "We've got to get out of here!"

Molly struggled to get out of the saddle, hampered by her bulky robe and the tight quarters. George, determined to dominate the camel, kicked it yet again. "Up, you mangy beast!" he hissed. This time the camel whirled its head around and spit at him. George leaned violently backward, knocking his head into Molly's. A wad of camel spit sailed past.

"Ow!" she said. "George, let me out of this saddle!"

Just then, four men, two holding swords, burst around the corner of the house. Catching sight of George and Molly, they charged toward the camel, shouting angrily, their faces filled with fury. Now George and Molly were both trying frantically to climb out of the saddle, but they and their robes were too entangled. Molly thought about using the starstuff in her locket but could not get to it in time. They had no chance to escapea"the first shouting man was almost upon them, drawing back his sword, anda aand stopping short as a brilliant streak of light flashed in front of him, inches from his eyes. The man jerked backward abruptly, causing the second man to run into him, and the third and fourth to run into both of them. The men went down in front of the camel in a clattering, shouting heap.

"Tink!" shouted Molly.

Tink responded with a burst of chimes that Molly did not understand. It wasn't aimed at her, anyway; Tink was saying something to the camel. Instantly, the beast got up, the sudden motion almost pitching George and Molly out of the saddle. But they hung on as the camel, urged on by Tink, got to its feet and lurched forward toward the street. One of the fallen men managed to lunge at the camel as it pa.s.sed. He grabbed Molly's leg, jerking it down and back. Molly screamed in pain. George lashed out and kicked the man's head; he grunted and let go. The camel reached the street and turned right. George clung to the saddle and Molly to George, as the camel, responding to Tink's chimes, went from a trot to a gallop. From behind, they heard the sounds of angry voices and running feet. Neither looked back. The sounds receded.

In minutes they were at the edge of the city and then on a road going into open desert. The camel slowed down to a swaying walk. The night closed around them.

"Are you all right?" said George.

"Yes," said Molly, though her leg throbbed. "I'm fine." She leaned around George and spoke to Tink, who now sat atop the camel's head between its floppy ears, looking forward.

"Thanks, Tink," she said. "You found us just in time."

Tink turned and, with an expression that was slightly less disdainful than the one she usually used toward Molly, chimed a response. Then she chimed again, and again, more earnestly.

"What is she so worked up about?" said George.

Molly shook her head. "I can't understand bell-speak," she said. "But I think I recognized one bit. It's Peter she's worried about." She looked out at the vast darkness of the desert. "And it's Peter she's taking us to."

CHAPTER 35.

THE NIGHT CARAVAN.

THE BOYS AWAKENED to the sound of the cell door opening. Peter blinked his eyes open and saw at least a dozen guards gathered in the corridor. He looked out the window; it was still night.

"What's happening?" whispered James.

"I don't know," said Peter as several of the guards entered the cell, shouting and gesturing for the boys to stand. One of them kicked the still-sleeping form of Tubby Ted.

"Ow!" he said, then "Ow!" again as the guard yanked him to his feet. "What are they doing? It's dark out! WhaOW!"

A clout on the ear silenced Ted, who was herded into the corridor along with the other boys. Peter exchanged concerned glances with Leonard Aster and Bakari, who, awakened by the noise, stood in their cell watching. Hook was also awake; as usual he brooded silently in the shadows of his cell.

The guards organized the boys into a line, then moved them forward to the monkey cell, where they stopped. A guard unlatched the cell door and another guard, looking none too happy, slipped inside the smelly cell, holding a stick with a loop of rope at the end of it. The monkeys screeched and leapt about, avoiding the guard. He seemed to be after a specific one, and with considerable effort, he finally managed to ensnare it, getting the loop around its body and then quickly pulling it taut. He carried the monkey, shrieking and squirming, out of the cell and got it into a cage, which was quickly closed. Two guards picked it up.

The little convoya"boys, guards, and caged monkeya"moved forward a few more yards, then stopped again, this time at what appeared to be a locked storage room. Two of the guards went inside and emerged a minute later. Peter gasped when he saw what they were carrying: suits made of golden mesh.

Peter had seen this kind of suit twice before: the first time had been on Mollusk Island, when golden-garbed Starcatchers handled the starstuff that Peter and Molly had managed to rescue from the Others. The second time had been at Stonehengea"Leonard Aster had worn such a suit to protect himself from the same starstuff when he brought it to the Return. Peter knew the suits were for handling starstuff. But for whom? And more important: where?

The guards barked, and the parade started moving again, down the dungeon corridor and then out into the clear desert night. Just as Peter was about to step through the doorway, one of the guards tied a rope around his waist, knotting it tightly, then secured the other end around his own waist. Peter would not be flying anywhere.

The parade crossed the vast, empty courtyard, pa.s.sing one of the odd-shaped metal towers, its sharp point thrusting toward the star-filled sky. A thought occurred to Peter, and he looked around to confirm it: there had been two such towers. Now one was gone.

But he had no time to ponder that mystery as they were going through a ma.s.sive gate, and his attention was drawn to the sight awaiting them outside the palace compound. It was a strange caravan. At the front were four horses, each ridden by a soldier with a sword at his side. Behind them was a large open carriage, drawn by two horses. The carriage was opulently decorated, on its floor was a fabulously ornate carpet decorated in gold thread; on this carpet was a throne. And on this throne sat His Majesty King Zarboff the Third. Next to him was the large basket in which he kept his snake, Kundalini.

Behind the king's carriage was a camel with a sort of platform strapped to its back; on this platform, secured by chains, was a large chest made of wood, with metal hinges and fasteners that gleamed yellow in the starlight. Peter a.s.sumed that they were gold and that the chest was lined with gold as well; the chest, he was sure, was designed to hold starstuff.

Behind the camel was a flatbed wagon drawn by four more horses. Most of the wagon bed was taken up by a large cage. The guards shoved the boys toward this cage and made them climb into it. Once Peter, the last to enter, was inside, the guard untied the rope around his waist and padlocked the cage shut. The monkey's cage was placed on the back of the same wagon, along with the gold suits. The guards formed ranks behind the wagon. Some commands were shouted, and the caravan began moving.

The only sound on the deserted streets of Maknar was the clopping of horses hooves and the rumbling of wagon wheels. The boys stared out through their cage bars, watching the city give way to the open desert. Peter recognized the road; he'd been on it before. He kept his eyes trained forward, and after a short while he saw ita"the pointed ears and ma.s.sive head of the Jackal. Squinting, he saw another shape rising in the starry sky, perhaps a hundred yards beyond the Jackala"a sleek, sharp-pointed shape. He stared until he was sure of what it wasa"the tower that had stood with its twin in the palace courtyard. How had it been brought here? Peter wondered. And why?

The caravan reached the mouth of the Jackal and stopped. The boys stared fearfully into the gaping darkness between the huge teeth; the guards avoided looking at it. They waited several minutes, and then out of the blackness of the Jackal's mouth came the even blacker form of Ombra. The horses snorted and danced uneasily; the monkey whimpered and cowered in its cage. Ombra glided silently to the front of the caravan and slithered into the royal carriage with Zarboff. The king waved his hand, and the caravan moved again, covering the short remaining distance to the place where the needle-shaped iron tower rose into the sky.

At the base of the tower were a dozen or so figures working by the light of lanterns hanging from poles in the sand. Among the figures, Peter recognized Slightly and the other slave boys.

"Keep the powder away from the lanterns!" a man shouted in heavily accented English. "Away from the lanterns!"

Beyond the tower, Peter saw three huge wagons. .h.i.tched together into a train; these in turn were hitched to a team of eight horses. This, Peter realized, was how the tower had been hauled out here; he still had no idea why.

The caravan stopped. The guards unlocked the cage and gestured for Petera"and only Petera"to get out. As he climbed through the cage door, two of the guards grabbed his arms and lifted him out, gripping him painfully hard. He felt the desert air grow colder and turned to see Ombra gliding up with Zarboff trailing behind, and behind him two guards straining under the weight of the basket containing the king's enormous snake.

Ombra stopped in front of Peter. "We will need your powers of flight," he groaned. "So we are going to order the guards to release you. You will do exactly as we say. You will not attempt to escape."

Zarboff stepped forward. "If you in any way disobey us, if for any reason you fail to return, I will put Kundalini into the cage with your friends." He beckoned to the men carrying the basket. They set it on the sand next to the cage. As the boys stared in horror, Zarboff whistled his odd tune, and the ma.s.sive head of Kundalini rose from the basket, its tongue flicking out as if tasting something.

"It would take him some time to eat them all," Zarboff said. "I don't know which would be worsea"to be the first meal, or the last." He laughed, enjoying the effect his words had on the boys in the cage, who, except for James, were now sobbing.

"Stop," Peter said to Zarboff. This clearly surprised the king, who was unused to taking orders from anyone, let alone a boy. "I promise I won't try to escape."

Zarboff, angry, was about to say something about Peter's tone, but Ombra cut him off.

"The boy understands the situation," he groaned. "Come."

Zarboff closed his mouth, but his expression told Peter that their discussion was not over.

They walked toward the tower, the guards following, carrying the monkey cage. As they drew close, Peter saw that the tower was standing next to wooden scaffolding, which went about two thirds of the way up. On the scaffolding were winches attached to ropes and pulleys, like a s.h.i.+p's rigging. Clearly, this was how the tower had been raised upright. Peter saw that four large, rectangular metal plates had been attached to the base of the tower on what looked like hinges. There was a large opening between two of these plates. Slightly and the other slave boys were carrying buckets from a wagon to this opening. One by one, each boy dumped the contents of his bucket into the hole and then went back to the wagon for more.

Supervising this activity was a man with a high-pitched voice, shouting orders in an accent unfamiliar to Peter. The man was tall and very thin; he had white hair that stood out from his head like a cloud. His deep-set eyes, hidden by shadow, looked like holes drilled into his skull.

"Where is Albert?" he said, as Peter and the others approached. "Did you bring Albert?" If the man was in any way intimidated by Ombra or Zarboff, his voice did not betray it. "Ah!" he said, catching sight of the caged monkey. "Albert! Good! And this must be the flying boy." He leaned close, studying Peter with a gaze so intense it made Peter look down. "It's Peter, yes?"

Peter nodded.

"I am Doctor Viktor Glotz," said the man. "You are going to find the starstuff Fall for us."

"ButaI don't know how," said Peter.

"I will tell you," said Glotz. He pointed to the metal tower. "This," he said proudly, "is a rocket. Do you know what a rocket is?"

Peter looked doubtfully at the tower. "Like fireworks?" he said.

Glotz snorted. "Fireworks," he said, "are children's playthings. They reach an alt.i.tude of a few hundred feet at most. This rocket, my rocket, can go, will go, high above Earth. Higher than the highest clouds."