Paradise Island (17 page)

“Was my father sure of all of this?” Estelle asked.

“Sure enough that he met disaster at the hands of Worthington. Estelle, your father was my greatest friend, a father to me, a mentor. It has been my greatest anguish that he suffered as he has done, and for all these years. I have been powerless to help him until the day I was made Captain myself and had a crew and a ship for my own to command. I can only believe that the map he gave me is the key to uncover and stop that which was set in motion by Worthington.”

She studied him closely kept her gaze steady. Eventually she drew the map from her satchel and opened it. He watched as she studied the lines. “They are the same as the images from the cave.”

“You must tell me everything you know. If there is any chance of getting out of here, it is to put our heads and experiences together.”

Estelle thought this over and eventually nodded, keeping a jaundiced eye on him. “You may be right. While you … slept, I discovered ancient paintings at the back of the cave wall.” She traced the tip of her finger along the ridges on the map. “They matched these lines perfectly. They traveled all the way to the painting of a cave. Even looking at the cave that was painted on the wall, it gave me such a distressing feeling I was unable to study it for too long. I couldn't make sense of it then, but now looking at these mountain ranges, I think … It is! Paradise! The silhouette of Paradise!”

A movement on the ridge caught her attention and a strangled sound fell from her mouth. In the idle of the line was the tall figure of Jack Cutlass. Gregory followed her gaze to the line of black-clad men lining the ridge. He gripped her shoulders, his long fingers wrapped over her. The heat from his hands permeated through her wet clothes, warming her bones. “We have to get out of here. Think, Estelle. You have to use the ring. There must be a power that links those men, and these ship. The ring must be the key.”

“I … I don't know how to make it work!” Desperation laced her words. The men silently moved down the cliff. The ships next to them started to roll and buck as the men closed in. They were sitting ducks on board Cutlass's ship, caught at the end of a deadly trap.

“Think, Estelle. Think!”

Taking control of her growing fear, she blocked off the sight of the black-clothed crew steadily coming towards them. Gregory's words ripped through her mind. Think. Thoughts. What had she been thinking about when the ship bucked?

She gasped, looked at Gregory. “Paradise!” At her word the ship lurched forward. “That's it!” she cried.

“The anchor.”

Gregory ran to the winch. Estelle was on his heels. Together they rolled the anchor winch. Using all her strength she rolled up the chain. As the anchor lifted from the sea bed, the ship drifted in the current.

“Estelle! We're heading for the shore!”

She hadn't realized she'd scrunched her eyes so tightly. Cracking them open she saw the men at the shore line. The ship had drifted, almost touching the white capped waves breaking into the shallow ground at the shore.

“I'll do this. Just do what you do and get us out of here!” Gregory looked at her, real panic registering on his face. Just seeing that on a face meant for command made her realize how close they were of failing.

Clutching the ring, she pressed it against her heart. She pictured the island of Paradise as she would guide The Wanderlust through the narrow entrance to the quiet bay. She imagined the village, the huts dotted amongst the ferns and palms that lined the hill beyond the bay.

“Paradise,” she whispered to herself over and over again. “Find Paradise.”

The ring heated, energy pulsed through her palm. Beneath her feet, the decks rolled. Wind tossed her hair, whipping it across her face. She opened her eyes and the breath stuck in her throat. They were in the open ocean, seemingly flying over the waves. The furthest of the island were fast approaching, the ship automatically steering towards them, bringing them closer to her home.

“It's working!” Gregory stood next to her. The wind plucked at his open shirt, barring his bare chest to the elements. His hair streaked backwards with the force of the breeze as they raced forewords.

He glanced at her, held her gaze for a moment then looked back to the fast approaching islands. “Why is Paradise so dear to you?”

Why? There were so many reasons. It was her home. The home she had created for herself when no one would provide her with any shelter at all. Her friends were there. All souls she'd save at the hands of the mistreatment of men bound by a loyalty that would never be broken.

They were more than friends. They were her family. A family she had chosen for herself. All of them, everything there meant more than life and death to her. How could she explain the powerful emotions she connection with her chosen land?

“You wouldn't understand,” she said.

When she looked up, she was caught in the intensity of his gaze. “Try me.”

She swallowed hard. “I don't know why I chose that island in particular. It had a quiet bay, it's protected. Many ships have sailed past without noticing the island. It is a well-kept secret.”

“You could be telling me about any island,” he said.

She glanced out at the ocean without really seeing it. “I … can't really describe it. It called to me … as though I couldn't live anywhere else in the entire world. When I first landed there, I could almost see the village and all the people that would eventually call it home too.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It was overwhelming, but something I knew would be so right. Do you understand what I mean?” She tried to tell herself she didn't care if he didn't understand, or if he thought it was a stupid idea.

His face softened as he watched her, his eyes roamed her face. “I don't think it was a stupid idea at all.”

She turned quickly, hiding the quick sting of heat in her eyes. It wasn't good to show weakness. Particularly in front of him. But he understood and somehow that made it even more special.

“There it is!” she cried. The familiar silhouette of Paradise merged from the horizon and quickly became more solid as they raced towards it. “That's Paradise.” She smiled, turned to face Gregory and stopped short at the horror on his face.

“And they are behind us,” he said.

She spun around to see several of the ships streaming towards them. They were going faster and catching up to them at great speed. Estelle clutched the ring, pressing it to her chest. Paradise was coming close, but the ship behind were fast approaching.

“How could have found us?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Gregory said. “They have been on our tails since yesterday. They found us in the middle of the high seas, and on the shore of that island. But how?”

“The ring,” Estelle said. “Who knows how the magic works, but it has to be the only way they could have tracked us. Have you ever noticed it being this hot?”

Gregory shook his head. “It's always been a normal ring. Cold to the touch, not that I've gone out of my way to wear it.”

“Supposing it's linked to other rings … ” Estelle stopped speaking.

“What is it, Estelle?”

“Jack. He was wearing a ring like this.”

“Are you sure?”

“I saw it on his hand, a flash of gold, a skull just like this one. There's no other explanation.”

“That means as long as we have the ring, they will be able to track us.”

Paradise was fast approaching, but the ships behind were clearly visible. “We'll have to swim to the island. I can't have them following us to the village.” Estelle swallowed. “They are all innocents who live there. They won't stand a chance against Jack and those cursed men.”

The muscle at Gregory's jaw worked. “This ship is on a course to your village. How are you going to change it?”

“I … I'll think of another bay. We'll jump ship and leave the ring on board.”

Gregory gave a sharp nod. “Keep course then change at the last moment. As long as they don't see us swim, they will follow the ship. If the rings are linked, they will unwittingly follow it. Hang fast, Estelle. We will have to act quickly.”

Estelle's gaze was torn between the island of her home and the dark ship cutting a path directly to them. She could only pray this would work. She thought of the innocent lives she was responsible for, the children that had only known Paradise as their home. She would not sacrifice them.

She saw the waves breaking on the rocky shore line of Paradise. This was a little known point of the island, the bay being at the opposite end, but still the best point from which she could trek through the bush to reach her village. Hopefully the ship would sail past, and Jack would be none the wiser to which island was that of Paradise and her secret home would remain safe. If not … she didn't like to even think about it. It simply could not happen.

“Ready yourself, Estelle.”

Together they perched on the edge of the deck. The water raced below her feet, rushing past in a powerful torrent. She had never sailed at such a clipped pace, but knew at this speed a false move could be fatal. By the tense lines at the corners of Gregory's mouth, he also knew the same. Many a sailor had died at the hand of the very thing that gave them their life.

“It has to be now, Estelle. Think of somewhere at the opposite end of the world.”

Estelle clutched the ring to her chest and remembered a shore so cold that it was white and frozen most of the year. So cold, The Wanderlust had almost been iced in for the term of winter. She had luckily escaped and knew no better location than to send Jack Cutlass.

The ship swerved at a sharp angle, and tipped violently. Her feet slipped from beneath her. She grabbed the gun rail, legs swinging in midair as the ship tilted, altering its course.

“Now, Estelle. We have to jump now!” Gregory perched on the edge of the deck, balancing on the edge between the boards and the side of the ship. He held into the gun rail with one hand, reaching towards her. “Take my hand!”

She let the ring go, watching as it clattered across the boards, wedging itself on a corner of the cabin and the deck. Gregory's hand wrapped around hers. She was pulled through the air feeling as though she weighed no more than a feather. He wound his arm about her waist and held her as she balanced on the lip of the deck.

“Ready?”

She nodded and then she was flying through the air. Her feet hit the surface of the water, and then it closed over her head. She came up gasping, watching the ship speed on its way, away from Paradise.

She swam as hard and as fast as she could towards her beloved land, Gregory at her side. The current was strong, and they were taken with it as easily as dry leaves in a storm. She drifted past the shore, but she kept the land in her sight. Stroke after stroke sapped her strength, but she kept her eyes trained on the land that raced path.

She wasn't sure how long it had taken, but finally her feet found the sandy bottom of the ocean. And as she struggled through the waves that lapped at her knees and then to the white bubbles that were the tips of the waves she fell. Next to her Gregory did the same. As exhaustion claimed her, she hoped against hope that they had been unnoticed and Paradise would remain a secret.

“What have you gotten yourselves into, now?” A crackling voice echoed dryly through Estelle's head.

Boney fingers probed her arm and she groaned. It hurt, even in dreams. It stank, too. “This will fix you up,” the voice said. Estelle cracked open glued, heavy eyelids. A watery image of an aged face, thick with wrinkles and a halo of scraggly white hair was above her.

The face smiled, showing yellowed teeth then swam from her vision. “You are a fighter. That is good, the gods have chosen well, but you need to let yourself feel the things only he can make you feel. Amor Fati. It is the only way. Only then can you be strong enough to defeat that which wants to rule. A word of warning, stay within the circle of the runes tonight and you shall be safe, retreat into the darkness and you shall be found.”

An edge of a cup was placed at her mouth and she drank. The liquid was warm and sweet and soon she was in a deep dreamless sleep.

A fire crackled from within a neat row of rocks arranged in a circle. Over the flames was a grill that had been set on top of the rocks which supported a blackened pot. The smell coming from it was delicious. Estelle blinked awake and raised up onto her elbow.

It was well into the night. The sky was dark, but the moon and stars were bright enough so that her vision adjusted quickly. All around were the sounds of the night, insets, faint rustling and a lone frog calling. The sounds of her island home.

She realized she was in no pain. She tested her arm, flexing the muscles and felt nothing. She was clean and dry and also very hungry. Next to her Gregory stirred. She reached over and shook his shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

His eyes flickered open, locked onto her instantly and she was drawn into twin pools of liquid blue. His hair was mussed into a mass of raven waves. One unruly strand curled over his forehead. His lips curved slightly as he focused on her and she wondered if she could ever tire of waking to such a look from him. She rode the kick-in-the-gut feeling and swallowed hard. It would do her no good to think of such things. Theirs were two paths that would not cross for long.

She turned to face the fire. “It seems as though we have been saved again.”

Beside her Gregory sat, “And it seems as though we have dinner waiting for us.”

Beside the fire on a flattened rock, bowls and spoons had been set. She filled a bowl and handed it to Gregory. “It smells a lot better than the last concoction.”

Gregory took the bowl from her with thanks and started eating. She took a place a little way away and faced the fire. “We have been cleaned and attended to. I know I received cuts, but they are gone. I don't know how that could be. I had a dream it was the old woman.”