Peter And The Secret Of Rundoon Part 27

George struggled with the chain that held the gate to the piling. It was too heavy, made of ma.s.sive links that George could barely lift, let alone raise over the top of the piling to release the gate. He glanced behind him and saw with a mixture of elation and alarm that the s.h.i.+p was moving, its stern rising high above him, its huge rudder pointing right at him. To the side, he saw men tumbling down the hillside, shouting in confusion and fury. At least that part of his plan had worked. But what about the chain? If he couldn't release it, the huge links would stop the s.h.i.+p. And if he stayed where he was much longer, the s.h.i.+p would squash him like a bug.

George turned back to study the ma.s.sive chain. He saw that one of the links was held to the next by an iron bolt. He twisted it with all his strength, and to his relief it began to unscrew. He turned the bolt as fast as he could; it unscrewed and unscrewed, but did not come free. The s.h.i.+p was gaining momentum now; the side struts were splintering and snapping and falling away. The rollers made a deafening grinding sound.

Several of the men had made it down the hillside. One of them saw George at the gate and shouted; he and the others began running toward George. The s.h.i.+p was only a few yards away. George gave the bolt a few more frantic twists. Finally, it came free, clanking on the rocks underfoot. The chain fell away. Water leaked in around the edge of the gate. The s.h.i.+p was rus.h.i.+ng toward him, the enormous rudder coming at him like a blade.

The shouting men reached the gate.

George dove. He landed just to the side of the s.h.i.+p's hull. He scrambled to his feet, grabbed hold of a rope dangling from the deck, and started to climb it. One of the men leaned out over the trench, knife in hand, and slashed at George. George, unable to get away, closed his eyes, waiting for the pain of the blade.

Instead, the rope jerked him violently backward as the last supports snapped and the s.h.i.+p suddenly picked up speed. He clung desperately to the rope as the s.h.i.+p smashed into the gate, which splintered into hundreds of pieces. A wall of water roared into the trench, nearly taking George with it; he hung on to the rope, sputtering, and struggled to haul himself onto the deck. Behind him, the man who'd tried to stab him screamed as he fell into the trench, now a deadly boiling cauldron, as the surging seawater tossed huge timbers around.

The s.h.i.+p plunged into the sea stern first and slowed with a shuddering jerk. George, reaching the deck, saw that Prentiss and Thomas had managed to scramble aboard. He looked back to see Tubby Ted standing on the side of the trench where the gate had been, looking uncertain. The s.h.i.+p's bow was just pa.s.sing him.

"Ted!" screamed George, running toward him on the deck. "Jump!"

For once, Teda"normally not one to act quicklya"did as he was told, leaping toward the s.h.i.+p and just catching the last of the nets. As Prentiss helped Ted up onto the deck, George raced to the stern and grabbed the s.h.i.+p's wheel. He looked up the mainmast at James, who was just then releasing the last of the ties. The mainsail fell away, ruffling in the wind. George heaved on the s.h.i.+p's wheel, turning it hard, trying to angle the s.h.i.+p so the sail would fill with wind. But the s.h.i.+p was losing momentum; it didn't answer to the rudder.

"Come on," said George, glancing toward the furious men on the sh.o.r.e, then back up at the sails. "Come on."

The sail flapped and snapped, and caught some wind. George held the wheel all the way to starboard. The s.h.i.+p began to turn, but agonizingly slowly.

James shouted something from the mast and pointed toward sh.o.r.e. George looked in that direction and saw a small rowboat in the water with five figures heaving hard on the oars. It was headed straight for the s.h.i.+p. At first George thought it was the men who'd been chasing them, but as the dory drew closer he saw, to his shock, that they were boysa"the same slave boys he'd seen in the desert with King Zarboff.

James recognized them as well. "Slightly!" he yelled, quickly climbing down from the mast.

The rowboat reached the s.h.i.+p; the five boys struggled up the netting and onto the deck. Three of thema"Slightly, Curly, and Nibsa"were wearing golden suits; the other twoa"the twinsa"wore their servant garb.

"Where's Peter?" said James.

"He's back at the rocket," said Slightly. "He told us to run here while Zarboff and the rest were distracted by the rocket launch."

"And Molly?" said George.

"Didn't see her," said Slightly. "Peter just said to come here anda""

He was interrupted by a shout from Thomas, who was pointing toward sh.o.r.e. The angry mob, having seen the slave boys row to the s.h.i.+p, had decided to do the same: they had run to a dock where some rowboats were tied, and were in the process of launching three of them.

George looked up at the luffing mainsail, willing it to fill with wind. The s.h.i.+p was moving, but pitifully slowly.

"Untie the nets and ropes!" he shouted. "We want nothing over the sides for them to grab on to!" But he doubted they'd have time to untie a single net; the first rowboat was already launched and making good time. It was rowing straight for the s.h.i.+p; and its occupants did not look at all friendly.

George glanced around in desperation for a weapon, somethinga"anythinga"with which to defend the s.h.i.+p. He saw nothing. Hopelessness filled his heart.

Had he looked toward the city, he would have seen, amid the myriad streaks in the sky, one light of a different color: the fiery tail flame of the rocket, now rising over the palace wall.

CHAPTER 57.

THE CREEPING COLD.

FRANKLIN THE MONKEY was most unhappy. He hooted and screeched, baring his teeth at the smelly human who had so rudely barged into his little s.p.a.ce.

Peter's mood was no better. The monkey's cage inside the roaring rocket was loud and cramped, with barely enough room for the monkey and his control levers. These levers were sticking painfully into Peter's back. At the same time, the monkey was shrieking into his ear, and Tink, still stuck inside his gold suit, was pounding on his chest with her tiny fists and clamoring: Let me out!

Peter wriggled sideways and was able to give Tink enough room to escape. She and Franklin exchanged odd noises.

He wants you to get out of his cage, she told Peter.

"I'd love to," he said. "But how?" The only opening was the hatch through which he'd entered; the hatch door hung open and the wind howled as the rocket gained speed and alt.i.tude. If Peter went out that way, the rocket would leave him behind.

Tink squirmed past Peter and examined the cage behind him.

Here, she said, chiming loudly to be heard over the howl of the wind and the roar of the rocket. Open this side.

Peter craned his neck and saw that the back wall of the cage was held in place by metal pins at the top and bottom. He yanked these out. The cage wall dropped away, clattering as it fell to the base of the rocket. Peter pushed himself out and hovered next to the cage. The starstuff was in the compartment directly above him; he could feel it and see ita"the compartment wall glowed brightly, filling the upper part of the rocket with light. Below him was the main section of the rocket, a chimneylike cylinder a bit more than three feet in diameter, filled with smoke from the fuel burning down at the base of the rocket.

Coughing from the smoke, Peter stuck his head back into the cage, which was starkly illuminated by the glow from the starstuff compartment. Franklin, he now saw, was held firmly in place by a leather harness. The monkey had his face pressed against what looked like a telescope eyepiece, and he was manipulating two levers. A third lever, with a red handle, projected into the cage from above; this, Peter a.s.sumed, would open the door to the starstuff compartment.

"Ask him what he's doing," Peter said to Tink. She exchanged sounds with Franklin, then told Peter, He's keeping the light in the circle. If he keeps it in the circle, he gets a banana.

"Let me see," said Peter, pus.h.i.+ng the monkey aside. Franklin screeched in protest.

He thinks you're going to take his banana.

"Tell him he can have his banana," snapped Peter. While Tink calmed Franklin, Peter squinted into the eyepiece and saw a magnified image of the starry desert sky with a small white circle painted in the middle. Evidently, Franklin was supposed to steer the rocket so that a certain stara"Peter couldn't tell which onea"remained in the circle, thus holding the right course. He glanced out the open hatchway; at the moment, the rocket appeared to be going straight up into the meteor-streaked sky. He would have to change that.

Peter quickly unbuckled Franklin's straps and shoved the still-protesting monkey aside. He looked out the hatchway and pulled on one of the control levers. The rocket veered to the right so sharply that Peter, Franklin, and Tink were almost hurled out. Peter quickly pushed the lever forward, straightening the rocket. He tried the other lever, gently pus.h.i.+ng and pulling, getting the feel of it.

What are you doing? chimed Tink.

"I'm steering it," said Peter.

Steering it WHERE?

Peter was pondering the same question. He looked out the open hatchway. Belowa"quite far belowa"he saw the city of Maknar and the palace; in the distance to one side was the desert. To the other side lay the harbor and the sea. His eyes rested a moment on the vast expanse of dark water. Then he gently pushed on both levers. The rocket began to turn to a horizontal position.

What are you doing? said Tink.

"I'm going to fly it into the sea," said Peter. "That way they can't get the starstuff back. We'll jump out before it reaches the water."

What about Franklin?

"I'll hold him."

The rocket leveled off. Peter, sticking his head out the hatchway to see, put it into a sweeping turn over the desert, aiming toward the harbor. He brought the rocket lower, lower; he pa.s.sed over the palace and could see, hurtling past, the ring of torches still burning around the launch site in the courtyard. Ahead, he saw the curve of the harbor, the masts of s.h.i.+ps. He squinted against the rus.h.i.+ng air as he looked out toward the sea.

He angled the rocket even lower. The roar of the wind filled his ears. Thus he did not hear the urgent warning sound from Tink, nor the shriek from Franklin.

Then he felt the cold creeping into his feet. He turned to see Ombra just outside the cage. He was shrinking from the light of the starstuff in the compartment above but managing to reach a black tentacle out to touch Peter's shadow, cast in that same light. Peter felt his strength being sucked away. He whirled back to the hatchway and, sticking his head out, saw that the rocket was just about to reach the harbor; ahead, almost level with the rocket, was the mainmast of a large sailing s.h.i.+p.

Peter felt the cold rising in his legs. There was no more time. He reached up and yanked on the red lever. He heard the hatch on the starstuff compartment opening, then saw a flash outside, like lightning. He heard a roar of rage and felt the warmth flood back into his legs as the flash drove Ombra back. Before Ombra could touch his shadow again, Peter released the red lever and dove out of the opening.

As he did, he heard a clang above him, and he realized to his horror that the starstuff hatcha"either because of the motion of the rocket, or Ombra's actionsa"had swung closed. He whirled back, hoping to reach the lever again, but the rocket was already hurtling past, faster than he could fly. With a desperate lunge he managed to grab on to its side, but the smooth metal gave him no purchase. He slid down to the end of the rocket, finally stopping when he caught hold of one of the four hinged steering plates sticking out of the base.

He clung to the plate, the wind roaring past. He dared not let go of the rocket for two reasons: one was that Tinker Bell was still inside; the other was that, although he had dumped some of the starstuff over the harbor, he had not dumped it alla"he could see that the top of the rocket was still glowing brightly. He didn't know whether there was enough starstuff left to accomplish Glotz's mission, but he did know this: the rocket was no longer descending. He felt a movement in the plate he was clinging to as it was pulled by the cable attached to it. Somethinga"either the monkey, or Ombra himselfa"was operating the steering levers.

The rocket began to rise.

CHAPTER 58.

THE ROAR IN THE SKY.

FROM THE DECK OF THE De Vliegena"the name carved on the prow of the s.h.i.+p he and his mates had just commandeereda"George watched helplessly as the three rowboats full of angry men drew closer. The nearest rowboat had almost reached the s.h.i.+p; by the light from the meteor-streaked sky George could clearly see the rage on the men's faces.

Suddenly, the rage turned to fear. The men stopped rowing and pointed at something, shouting. George heard a roar in the sky and turned to see a rocket thundering toward the s.h.i.+p. It was spitting orange flames and billowing black smoke and seemed impossibly close to the water, so close that George was sure it would hit the s.h.i.+p. As it bore down on him, he saw what looked like a door flapping open.

In the next instant, the night turned to brilliant day as the rocket released a glowing ma.s.s of yellow-gold light, brighter than anything George or the others had ever seen. James, Slightly, and the other boys were hurled to the deck, thrown on their bellies against the rough wood as if a giant hand were pressing down on them.

George tried to hold on to the helm, but he was ripped away from it and thrown against the mizzenmast by what felt like a hurricane wind. Yet it wasn't wind at alla"not a line fluttered, and the mainsail still hung limply from the yard. And despite its terrifying force, the "wind" also had a strangely pleasant component, imparting a feeling of well-being that George recognized instantly, having felt it before.

"Starstuff!" he shouted to the others. "Stay down! Don't look at it! Keep away from it!"

The glowing sphere sank slowly, like a giant balloon. George prayed it would land in the water, but it descended directly onto the De Vliegen. As the starstuff touched the s.h.i.+p, bolts of golden light raced down the masts and spread across the deck like melted wax. It washed over the cowering boys, whose fear turned to joy as they felt their aches and hunger disappear, felt their bodies grow lighter.

Then something rocked the s.h.i.+p, port to starboard, bow to stern. With their eyes pressed shut against the brilliant glare, the boys could not see what was happening, but the s.h.i.+p was now glowinga"every sail, every plank, every line, cleat, pulley, and nail, s.h.i.+ning with golden light. And then, as swiftly as the light had spread throughout the s.h.i.+p, it began to contract, reforming itself into a huge glowing orb, which rolled across the deck to the main cargo hold, whose hatch had been left open during the repairs. The sphere stopped on the brink, then plunged into the belly of the s.h.i.+p.

The glare was gone; the boys opened their eyes. The s.h.i.+p looked normal again, save for a column of golden light rising from the hold into the night sky.

George and James were the first back on their feet.

"Is it gone?" said James, blinking.

"I don't think so," said George, pointing toward the light column.

"Maybe we should close the hatch," said James.

"No," said George. "It's too dangerous."

"Not for us," said Slightly, arriving on the quarterdeck. "These suits will protect us." He, Curly, and Nibs went to the hatchway and heaved the doors closed. The intense light now escaped from the cracks of the hatch, reaching into the night sky. Then, as the boys stared in astonishment, the light began to change color, from gold to yellow, from yellow to orange, then to a feverish red, and thenanothing.

"Do you think it's pa.s.sed through the hull?" said James.

"I don't know," said George. "I don't know where it is."

"They're coming!" shouted Thomas.

George spun around. He'd forgotten all about the attackers in the rowboats. They had retreated during the starstuff spectacle, but now that the s.h.i.+p appeared normal again, they were rowing toward it furiously.

"Prepare to be boarded!" George shouted. "Loose the nets, let fly the belaying pins!" He'd dreamed of being a sea captain and issuing these orders.

The other boys stood still, looking confused.

"Untie the nets!" shouted George. "And throw anything at them that isn't tied down!"

The rowboats quickly closed the distance. One b.u.mped up against the hull.

"Hurry with those nets!" George shouted. "James, climb the forward mast and give me more sail!"

James started running toward the mast, and then a wonderful thing happened: his feet left the ground. He was flying, like Peter! With a whoop of elation he swept up the mast and began untying the sails.

The other boys, seeing this, leapt from the deck and found, to their utter joy that they, too, could flya"at least for now. Prentiss, Thomas, and Tubby Ted began swooping around the deck, untying nets as quickly as they could. Slightly, Curly, Nibs, and the twins were scooping up wooden pins, empty barrels, and anything else they could find and dropping them on the first boatload of attackers, now climbing the nets. The missiles. .h.i.t two of the men on the head, causing them to fall back into their boat, which tipped and capsized, throwing its occupants into the water. Prentiss and Ted joined Slightly and Curly. They flew up and dropped a heavy box of nails into the next rowboat from seventy-five feet in the air. The box went right through the bottom of the rowboat, sinking it immediately as the men dove into the sea. The boys cheered.

But more rowboats were nearing the s.h.i.+p, and still more were coming. George, with James's help on the sails, had the s.h.i.+p moving now, but not fast enough. Two more rowboats banged into the s.h.i.+p. More men jumped onto the nets and started to climb. The boys swooped overhead, raining objects on them. But the men kept coming.

George felt the s.h.i.+p lurch. He looked up, but it wasn't the winda"the sails were no fuller. Another lurch, and then a loud groaning noise rose from the s.h.i.+p's bowels, as though its beams and planks were being torn apart. The masts shook; the sails s.h.i.+vered; the lines danced.

James, standing high on a yardarm on the forward mast, shouted something to George and pointed toward the water.

George, unable to hear over the groaning of the s.h.i.+p, a.s.sumed James was pointing out the attackers. "I know!" he shouted. "Just get us more sail!"

But it wasn't that at all. James was gesturing frantically now. George looked, and his mouth fell open.

The De Vliegen was rising. George ran to the rail. The s.h.i.+p, its timbers groaning and creaking in protest, was lifting out of the water. The terrified attackers were letting go of the nets and dropping back into the harbor, then swimming frantically away from the dripping hull. The men still in rowboats were staring up at the rising s.h.i.+p in slack-jawed amazement.

George heard a whoop from James; the forward sail was free. He ran back to the wheel and gave it a spin; the s.h.i.+p answered, slowly turning. Its sails filled with wind, and it began to pick up speed. And still it was rising: now fifty feet above the water, now sixty. George put the s.h.i.+p into a long, slow turn to port, coming fully around, and ordered his flying crew to adjust the sails. The flying s.h.i.+p pa.s.sed over the dry dock, its former attackers staring up at it helplessly.

George spun the wheel, straightening their course. He grinned.

The spires of Zarboff's palace lay directly ahead.

CHAPTER 59.