Barefoot Pirate (3 page)

“During these years,” the book went on to say,

...she made friends. She grew to be tall and strong for her age,
and because she’d had training in self defense, no one was able to bully her.
Instead, she intervened on behalf of the smaller, weaker children. She stood up
against other children in the Workhouse until all, even the bigger boys,
regarded her with respect. She organized the Workhouse children against the
street bullies that frequently plagued them, and she also stood up to the
Keepers on others’ behalf, when she thought they’d been unfair. This was often,
and Bera consequently went to bed supperless on many nights.

She made friends with nearly everyone, but four children became
her close companions. These four were later to form part of her crew. In the
Workhouse they were known by names the Keepers had assigned them. Here they are
mentioned with the names they later chose for themselves.

“Blackeye was the name the other children gave Bera, because of
her shining black eyes. She decided it would make a fine name for a
pirate—since the authorities insisted on calling her family pirates, then a
pirate she would be.

Tarsen was a thin boy whose quick fingers often did Bera’s
sewing tasks for her. Tarsen was agile and fast. Fearless and daring, he was
the first child to do handsprings along the ridge pole of the third storey
roof.

Violet-eyed Sarilda was a descendent of a magic race. She
discovered inherited magical abilities after she’d learned to keep secrets.
Bron had been crippled at a young age, by a parent who later abandoned him as
unable to learn the arts of a gentleman. Gifted in the kitchen, Bron was not
able to keep up with the outdoors tricks of the others, but he promised if they
ever got away he’d run a better household for them than they’d ever had.

Kevriac was the youngest of the Workhouse gang, a weak boy who
nevertheless had a great desire to learn magic. He read anything he could get
hold of, and Bera and the other two often did his share of the work in the
stables he’d been assigned to, in order to win him study time.

The book swiftly outlined the things the kids learned over
the next two years. Just before Bera turned thirteen they made their escape
during a thunderstorm in the middle of the night, ran straight down to the
wharf, stole one of the Regent’s coastal spy boats ( for “customs inspection”) that
was tied up against the storm. Lightning struck all around and thunder roared
overhead, the seas were churning and choppy, and Blackeye’s friends were
afraid, but she showed them how to step the single sail and they launched
straight out to sea.

By dawn the island was a distant hump on the horizon.

They were free.

They traveled back to her home island, where, she was glad
to find, the old Magic Spell still permitted them entry.

No one had bothered to change the Spell because nothing was
left of the house but the burned shell. However, Bera remembered another Spell,
one she’d never spoken of to anyone. This one, only known to her parents and
herself, opened the way to a small cellar underground, where was kept some of
the treasure that had (she had thought) occasioned the attack in the first
place. It had gone undiscovered. Also undiscovered was the ship’s log, which
their father had always stored in the cellar when they weren’t sailing.

Bera sat up all night reading this, for here was the proof
that her parents had not, in fact, been ‘criminal pirates.’ The log listed the
terrible things the Regent had done to gain control of the island kingdom, and
how traders who did not want to join his fleet had banded together to fight.

By this time Bera had learned something of the true nature of
the islands’ government. Everyone knew that the prince, who had inherited his
throne at a young age, was not quite right in the head, and a trusted adviser
was Regent. What Bera read in the ship’s log was the story of the Queen’s
murder—and the placing of the young Prince under a terrible enchantment.

Bera’s parents had not only been privateers, they’d been the
leaders of a growing underground movement dedicated to overthrowing the Regent,
and restoring the young Prince first to his wits, and then to his throne. The
treasure stored in the cellar, taken from the Regent’s ships and friends, was
all to be dedicated to winning the prince free again.

Bera shared this information with her friends, and after a vote,
all four enthusiastically vowed to carry on the parents’ work. Her friends all
chose new names to formally acknowledge their new identities—Kevriac naming
himself for a famous sorcerer, Sarilda for the people from whom she’d
descended, and Bron and Tarsen for legendary heroes.

Drawing a breath of pleasure, Nan read on.

The book described how, within two years’ time, Blackeye and
her crew found a new hideout, transferred the treasure there, and trained
constantly to make themselves ready for the work ahead. They also embarked on a
career of harassments against the Regent’s Guard.

Kevriac obtained magical books and he was able to help them
with what he learned. Meanwhile the crew expanded—Warron they rescued from some
real pirates, and it was he who taught them a great deal about the handling of
boats so that they would be ready for the
Blue Falcon
when they did
steal it back.

Then they rescued Tarly, a young centaur who had been stolen
by some unscrupulous traders from her home on a faraway continent, and who was
in the process of being sold to some wealthy friends of the Regent’s, to live a
miserable life as a talking beast of burden/nanny, drawing their spoiled
children around in a buggy, and being responsible for them. Tarly was able to
read other languages, and helped Kevriac with his studies. They made friends
with Elan, who had a job as a servant in the Regent’s palace, and they adopted
two street children, Mican and Shor, who narrowly missed hanging when they were
caught stealing food to keep from starving.

At the end of the two years, Blackeye decided they were
ready to start on their plans. The first item was the recovery of the
Blue
Falcon
...and the last would be the freeing of the prince.

Nan discovered that she’d already reached the last page.
Just two paragraphs remained.

“What?” she muttered. “Where’s the rest of Blackeye’s story?
It can’t end now...”

The book said:

Kevriac learned, though, the nature of the enchantment on Prince
Troial. A terrible one indeed: no one born anywhere in the world may come near
the prince, other than the Regent, or the prince will die.

And the last paragraph read:

So if you, the Reader from distant Earth , would like to help
them free the prince, then wait until Full Moon night, and repeat these words
three times:

Narndael en arnda hyt teldehr ehr!

And you will be transported to their world.

Nan laid the book down and flicked off the flashlight. Her
first thought was:
When’s the next full moon?

And her second thought was:
Joe Robles read this, too
.
She frowned into the darkness of her room. What did he mean by wanting to
“talk”? Surely he didn’t believe in magic, much less need to escape to another
world—not a popular kid like him. Especially a boy.

And what if the book meant only one could go?

She flicked the flashlight back on, rereading the last
paragraph. “You,” was all it said. Didn’t say whether it meant you-singular or
you-plural. Anger burned in Nan’s middle. It would be just her luck if the
magic only would take one person—and of course this boy meant to behave like a
typical boy and bully her out of going.

Another
world
.

There was no promise it would be like Narnia, or Oz. She
thought, what if I get there and they turn out to be not like people at all—but
monsters? After all, experience showed so far that if she left one situation,
the next was usually worse.

Turning the flashlight off, she frowned into the darkness of
her room. The book didn’t really say what they looked like, outside of the
comment about Blackeye having black eyes, and Sarilda’s violet eyes, and the
other boy’s pale hair. What if they were nine feet tall, fungus-green, with
fangs, and all they ate was snails?

But they SOUND good, she thought. So I don’t care what they
look like. McKynzi is supposed to be so pretty, but I can’t see her or her pals
lifting a finger to help an old lady cross a street, much less help a prince
regain his kingdom.

And Blackeye and her gang also seemed to know about awful
guardians.

Fungus or not, I want to go.

She brushed her hand over the book, and again felt that
tingle. Oh yes. Despite all her caution—the practical side of her that was
convinced nothing good would ever happen to her—she was convinced that
Blackeye’s world was magic, and good.

And I’m going to do that spell.

She resisted the temptation to turn her light back on and reread
the book. It would be just her luck if one of the Evanses was up, and she’d get
the lecture about proper sleep, and what was keeping her awake so long? Trash
about magic? The only magic was hard work, and obeying those who look out for
you, and you should be grateful...

She hugged the book against her.

No one in her life yet had ever cared the least bit about
what she wanted, or liked, or dreamed about, or needed outside of the basics
such as food, clothing, and a roof over her head. She had turned to books to
find what she never found in people.

Nan flung herself back on her pillow, wishing she could at
least check the shape of the moon. The wind howled, blowing wet snow against
her window. Since sleep was impossible, she lay there listening to the winter
storm, and planned all the practical details of her escape from a world where
no one wanted her.

o0o

In the morning, Joe’s house was noisier than usual.

He slammed out at seven, figuring standing freezing at the
bus stop for an extra few minutes was much better than the headache he’d get
from Mar Tee’s shrieking, Benny’s whining and tears, Maria’s heavy-metal noise,
and Mom fighting with Maria about her short skirts, bare tummy showing her
piercings, and her new tattoo.

As soon as he shut the door behind him, the silent world of
steady snowfall seemed to enshroud him like a gentle white cloak.

Then he had a weird thought. He’d assumed the magic world
would be beautiful, like Narnia, or something. What if it turned out to be a
hideous desert world, with boiling temperatures and tornados and things? Who
cares, he thought. I’ve wanted adventure since I was little. I’m so outa here. Like
anyone would even notice.

Except Benny, of course. Joe sighed, feeling a twinge of
guilt—and a lot of annoyance. He shrugged the feelings away. His mother would
just have to pay attention to her own kid for once. Maybe at the same time
she’d see what a mega-monster Mar Tee was turning into, and do everyone a favor
by stepping on her for once.

The one thing that worried him was making contact with that
Nan. What if she somehow cheated him out of going?

Joe yanked the piece of notebook paper out of his pocket
onto which he’d copied the entire last page of the book. It didn’t say that a
person had to have the book on hand—or that more than one couldn’t go. It
didn’t even say where the person had to be, except (he guessed) you had to be
somewhere in sight of the full moon.

Tonight, he thought, and once again that crazy feeling of
joy burned inside him. After he’d finished the book two nights ago, he’d
sneaked out to the yard to check the moon. It had been nearly full.

A couple of kids approached from the other end of the block,
and he pocketed the paper again. Well, whatever. He’d try to work with Nan, and
if she wasn’t having any, he’d be outa there the first sight of the moon
tonight. And if only one could go—then, well, at least he’d tried to share.

When he got to school he saw her lurking around the library
building, and he fought against disgust. Geez, she was weird. Not that she
looked all that weird. A plain, skinny girl with two thick, orange braids, and
kind of nerdy clothes, like from some super-cheap discount store. It was the
way she kind of lurked around the edges of walls and things, staring out of the
sides of her eyes, then if you met her gaze, she looked down at the toes of her
crummy shoes. Gave him the creeps.

Does she expect me to act like some kind of spy, he thought
in disgust, and he walked straight across the quad toward her.

She darted quick glances from side to side, as though
somebody was about to jump her. He was going to make a sarcastic comment about
commando raids when he recalled McKynzi Kerne and her gang ragging her, calling
her Nanny Goat and such stuff. Maybe she was on the lookout for them. So he only
said, “Hi. Read the book?”

She nodded, her blue eyes puffy and her mouth tight. He knew
he had puffy eyes as well, from not being able to sleep. She didn’t seem about
to say anything, so he said, “Want to go?”

Her mouth thinned and her eyes closed a second, then once
again she nodded. Short and tight.

Maybe this nerdy kid wanted to go as badly as he did.

Some kids yelled with laughter not far away, and Nan
flinched, then gave him this weird, worried look, like she didn’t want to be
seen talking to him. So he stared up at a bulletin board about Presidents’ Day,
and said quickly, “Look. How about if we meet here at school, at midnight. It’s
full moon tonight—and it should be good and up by then. Can you do it?”

“I’ll be here,” she said in a flat voice. “Midnight.”

And she hurried away like an army of orcs was after her. Joe
wondered if going anywhere with this girl was going to be a big mistake.

o0o

At first Nan was afraid she was going to cry when—after all
her worries all night long—Joseph Robles offered to meet her and do the spell
together, as if nothing else in the world had been in his mind.