Jim Morgan and the Pirates of the Black Skull (27 page)

BOOK: Jim Morgan and the Pirates of the Black Skull
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Celia, the other large harpy, stood beside her smaller sister, Ally. Together they blocked Lacey and the Ratts in the dead-end ravine. A trio of red slashes decorated Celia’s left cheek. Beneath her claw, one long nail pierced a small, black wing. There lay the still, mangy form of Cornelius Darkfeather.

“Mister Cornelius, say something! Mister Cornelius!” Lacey was crying now. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she pleaded with Cornelius to reply. But the raven neither moved nor spoke.

“Hard to catch, these ones,” Ocy said from above Jim’s face. A long slather of drool dangled from her teeth just above Jim’s nose. “Fast and small and not givin’ up as easily as the fat, old pirates from before.”

“But less meat than the fat, old pirates from before,” said Ally. Her head bobbed up and down on her long neck as she examined the Ratts and Lacey. “Though I will say that was fun, weren’t it? Haven’t had that much fun huntin’ in years! It’s a pity there’s only a few of them…and so scrawny at that.”

“Would have caught ‘em faster if not for this disgusting flying traitor!” Celia spat. She pressed Cornelius’s body hard to the ground with her claw, growling furiously. The bright red cuts on her face trickled with blood. “Helpin’ the man-children and fightin’ against us? Humans are liars and fools. They have no honor like the creatures of the sky. Meat or no meat, I will crush his bones betwixt me teeth!”

“No!” Lacey shrieked. “Leave him alone, please! Just leave him alone!”

“Silence!” Ocy roared. She squeezed tight and pinched Jim’s arms in her talons. Jim winced beneath her iron grasp. For some reason, though, as the harpy squeezed his arm until it went numb, his mind cleared just a little. The faint sound of Philus Philonius’s flute went quiet and the cold that so miserably gripped Jim lessened, if but a little. Jim looked at his friends and poor Cornelius. If only he’d followed them back the other way! Even if he had been forced to retreat back through the Devil’s Horns and left the shell behind, it would have been better than this. What good was even the Treasure of the Ocean if he lost his friends?

“Let them go,” Jim said. “You can have me but just let them go!” But Ocy just cackled over Jim’s fallen form. She lowered her face until their noses nearly touched. The long string of drool pooled on Jim’s cheek.

“We shall be lettin’ none of those little tasties go, man-child. In truth, you are the only one we’ll be settin’ free this day.”

“Letting me go?” Jim asked incredulously. “Why?”

“Your smell, man-child,” Ocy said, puzzling over Jim with a wrinkled nose. “There is somethin’ rotten in your smell. Tis this stink alone that dissuades me from eatin’ you whole, man-child. It’s the smell we caught in the air by our nest. Our noses may be gettin’ old, they may, they may, but this smell is strong, strong, strong!” Ocy sniffed Jim’s shoulder, down his arm, and all the way to his left hand, where the black tendrils crept from his thumb to his wrist. “It is the smell of poison, man-child. Poison runs through your veins. We will not be eatin’ it, and we will not be killed by the blackness within you.”

“Poison?” Jim shouted. “Killed?”

“Oh yes, man-child,” Ocy said. “Our noses are very smart, aren’t they, ladies? Our noses make no mistakes, do they? There’s black-magic poison in your veins. Whether by turnin’ to stone or the slow blackness in your blood, when dawn comes little man-child, you shall be dead.”

Jim’s head swam and hot tears rose up behind his eyes. He’d been tricked again – tricked by that scoundrel Philus Philonius. Now his friends were going to be eaten by harpies and Jim was going to die alone on this island, by poison or stone, whichever came first.

“There’s four left then,” Ally said happily from the dead end. “Not counting the little bird traitor. But I’ve heard woman-child is a rare delicacy, I did, I did! Which of us gets her? Or will we share a little bit of them each amongst ourselves?”

The last of Jim’s hope abandoned him. Lacey’s tears fell in great drops onto the ground. Even the irrepressible Ratt brother smiles were nowhere to be found. Jim realized this might be the end of the road for them all, when Ally said:

“It’s only a shame none of them have any glitteries on ‘em. I’d give up one share of tasty meat just for a glittery, I would, I would!”

From where Jim lay on the cold ground, he saw Paul’s eyes light up with one last drop of courage.

“Ladies,” Paul began. His voice trembled at first, but being one of the greatest con men to ever walk the streets of London, he coughed twice, straightened his shoulders and forced a smile back across his cheeks. “Excuse me, but I don’t suppose you have much gamblin’ on this island, do you?”

“Gamblin’?” said Ally, curiously. “Is gamblin’ a type of glittery? Is it man-child, is it?”

“Well, no. Gamblin’s a game, Madam Harpy. It’s a type of game that always ends in a glittery. In fact, it could very well end with a glittery for you today.”

“A glittery?” Ally cried. She hopped up and down on her claws, her head bouncing up and down on her long neck, tittering and cackling with glee. “A glittery and a game? Oh, Ocy and Celia – this has turned into the best day in years and years! We can play a game and get a glittery and eat man flesh all in one night!”

“A game and a glittery?” Celia said, looking up from Cornelius. Suspicion pooled at the edges of her voice and doubt was written all over her scratched and bloodied face.

“Sounds like a trick,” Ocy added. “Sounds like a nasty human trick to me!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of trickin’ such lovely ladies as yourselves,” Paul said, putting on his best offended face. “As a matter of fact, I promise you this is no trick, ‘cause in all honesty, there’s no way you can lose! Now, am I mistaken, or did I happen to hear you say that huntin’ us Brothers Ratt was the most fun you’d had in years?”

“Oh, but it was so much fun!” Ally said, cackling at the top of her lungs. “Ocy, wasn’t you even sayin’ it was a fun hunt, wasn’t you?”

“Well,” said Ocy hesitantly, but Jim could tell her curiosity was piqued. She dragged him to his feet and threw him against the wall with his friends. Then she stalked up beside Ally, scrutinizing little Paul with her bright yellow eyes. “It certainly was a bit of exercise now weren’t it? Something new for a change, I will say that.”

“How many years would you say it’s been since you had that much fun, ladies?” Paul continued. “Be honest. A decade? Two?”

“Oh, fifty years at least!” cried Ally, clicking her needle teeth together and bobbing her head excitedly.

“Seventy, maybe,” added Ocy.

“Seventy years?” Paul said, aghast. His brothers joined right in, shaking their heads sadly.

“Terrible,” George added.

“A tragedy,” said Peter.

“Well, we are five hundred years old each,” said Ally.

“Five-hundred years? Why, I wouldn’t have guessed you a decade over two hundred, would you, Peter?” said George.

“One seventy-five, Georgie. One seventy-five, tops.”

Jim could hardly believe it, but he thought the harpies actually blushed as they cackled together.

“Well I certainly wasn’t having any fun, now was I?” roared Celia, shoving her way amongst her sisters, little Cornelius clutched in one claw. “Look at my face!” She screeched, pointing one feathery wing tip at the claw marks on her cheek.

“Oh,” said Paul, swallowing hard. “Well, I’m sure that was an accident. Old Cornelius wouldn’t hurt a fly, milady.”

“He said he wanted to peck me eyeballs out!” Celia raged.

“Oh, that,” Paul replied, laughing spuriously and looking to his brothers for help.

“Oh, yes,” said Peter. “That was…that was just a joke! It’s sort of a go-to line for him, you know? Good morning, Pete, how ‘bout if I peck out an eyeball this morning?”

“Told me he was going to peck my eyeballs out just an hour ago,” said George, and on cue the three Ratt brothers looked at each other and burst into uproarious laughter.

“Oh, he’s such a ham, that one!” said Peter.

“A regular court jester!” said George, tears forming on his cheeks.

“Well I didn’t think it was very funny!” shouted Celia. As though flipping a lever, all three brothers stopped laughing on a dime and shook their heads, disgusted looks upon their faces.

“Terrible joke.”

“Just awful.”

“Not funny…at…all.”

“But what is fun, ladies,” continued Paul as quickly as he could. “Is the chance to win a glittery. And on top of even that, have a little more fun huntin’ for your dinner. Now, me and me brothers know from our time in London that if you don’t have to run for your dinner, it don’t taste nearly as good, now do it, boys?”

George and Peter shook their heads convincingly. “Not nearly, Paulie!” they said together.

“Ladies, here is the deal and it’s a one time deal only, for you and for you alone! I, Paul Ratt, will give you a chance to win a glittery by playin’ my li’l game. If you win the game, you get to keep the glittery and eat us for dinner – and we are delicious, I can tell you that. Especially her!” Paul thumbed over to Lacey.

“Paul!” shrieked Lacey. But the harpies, even Celia, cackled and howled, all three of them ruffling their feathers and prancing about on their claws.

Celia even tossed poor Cornelius’s limp form on the ground at Jim’s feet. Jim bent down and gently lifted the poor bird into his arms. Putting his ear on Cornelius’s chest, he detected the faintest heartbeat – the raven was still alive.

“And if you lose,” Paul continued. “All you have to do is give us a head start, and then you can hunt us all over again – and then you still get to eat us!”

The three harpies now almost fell over on each other they were having so much fun. Jim looked over at Paul with concern all over his face. Paul had attempted a similar trick once before, at the Inn of the Wet Rock. Little had he known he was up against Dread Steele himself – until it was too late. But Paul threw Jim a wink and carried on.

“So ladies, do we have a deal?”

“Oh, yes, yes, yes!” said Ally, nearly hysterical with delight.

“Excellent!” said Paul. “Now, to present you with your potential prize, may I show you one of the rarest artifacts from all of England…”
Paul reached into his pocket and with an expert flourish of a circus ringmaster pulled out -“a marble!”

Paul held up the spherical trinket in his hand. It caught just a hint of the sunlight creeping down through the shadows and sparkled magnificently in his palm. Jim would have thought Paul had produced a chest full of gold the way the harpies shrieked and danced, flapping their wings and howling with delight.

“I ain’t never seen anythin’ like it!” Ally crooned. “It’s so, so, ROUND!”

“Yes it is - the roundest of all marbles!” said Paul. Then, with three flicks of his wrist, he pulled the hats from Jim, Peter, and George’s heads and dropped them on the ground at his feet. “Now, here’s how the game works, ladies: I will put the oh-so-round marble beneath a hat, and then each of you gets a guess. Guess the right hat, and you find yourselves one marble richer and three bellies fuller, right? Now, ‘ere we go!”

Paul rolled the marble over the back of his knuckles and tossed it beneath one of the hats so fast it was hard for Jim to tell under which one it supposedly went. Immediately the hats began to spin around on the ground beneath Paul’s fingers. The harpies tried so hard to follow the marble that they nearly twisted their three necks into a single braid. Finally, Paul brought the hats to a sudden stop.

“Right then, ladies,” Paul said, smiling. “Guessin’ time! Choose your fate and choose wisely. For a whole, round marble and some savory, li’l man-children are on the line tonight!”

Ally, who could hardly contain herself and was half giggling and half screeching, shoved her sisters aside and snatched Jim’s hat from the ground without a moment’s thought. When she found nothing beneath the hat she let out a depressed sigh. Her neck drooped so low that Jim thought her head was going to drag along the ground. If the harpies had not just been threatening to eat them all, Jim thought he would have felt the slightest bit bad for Ally.

Ocy went next. In spite of her earlier suspicions, she was now very nearly as excited as Ally. But she was also more thoughtful. She looked
back and forth between the hats and Paul with her enormous, yellow bird eyes, as though attempting to divine the location of the marble. But alas, when she plucked Peter’s cap from the ground she found nothing but dirt underneath. Unlike her sister, however, Ocy took losing a bit less graciously. She squawked what could have been some ancient, harpy curse word, and kicked at the dust with her sharp talons.

Lastly came Celia. She laughed a dry chuckle and ran her long, purple tongue over her yellow, needle teeth. “You lost this li’l game before you started tiny man-child,” said the harpy, leering at the children with the most horrible smile stretched across her grotesque face. She raised her claw over George’s hat and let it linger there, as though she dangled the clan’s fate from her talons. “You shoulda’ used four hats, li’l man-child, for you gots only one left. Now I’m gonna get me a glittery and get me my fill o’ man-flesh for dinner to boot. It’s been a good day indeed. I’m gonna enjoy eatin’ you clever li’l Ratt boys for dinner!” With that Celia seized George’s hat, her yellow eyes never leaving Paul’s face. But when both of her sisters gasped, Celia looked down to find no trace of the marble at her feet. Her freshly clawed face came up trembling with rage. More than hunger burned in her eyes then…now there was murder.

“This is a trick!” she screeched, rearing up on her claws with wings outstretched. The five friends backed up against the rock wall as far as they could go. “I knew you was playin’ a nasty trick on us, lyin’, man-child. Show us what’s in your hand little trickster!” Celia reached out with her wing and seized Paul by the wrist.

Jim’s heart dropped. Once more, he feared, Paul’s con had been uncovered by his mark. This time, perhaps to their doom. But instead of fear, a smile slowly spread over Paul’s face. He opened his hand one finger at a time. The palm was empty. It seemed, Jim realized, that the smallest Ratt had taken his brother’s advice and been doing some practicing indeed.

BOOK: Jim Morgan and the Pirates of the Black Skull
9.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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