Secrets of the Deep (65 page)

Jones shrugged. “Suit yerself. Well? Speak your piece, boy. I’ve got a world to drown. Busy day.”

Jake furrowed his brow, flipped his dripping forelock out of eyes, and then got down to brass tacks. “Well, sir, I hear you’re something of a gambler.”

“It does pass the time.”

“I’ve come to offer you a game of dice.”

“Oho, you’d roll the bones with Davy Jones, would ye?”

“Aye.”

“Then I was wrong about you, kid. You’re not brave; you’re a fool.”

“That’s my concern, not yours. If I win—”

“You can’t have the orb,” Jones said flatly. “Not interested.”

“Hear me out! I have higher stakes in mind for this bet than you might realize. In fact, I’d call it all or nothing.”

“Is that right?” Jones arched a jet-black brow. “Very well. I’m listenin’.”

“If I win, you release my friends and give up this mad plan of yours to drown the Earth. I take the orb and destroy it.”

Jones mulled this with a glint of interest in his eyes. “What could you possibly offer me in return that would entice me to play against you for such stakes? I don’t need wealth, I’ve got all the power I could want, and I’ve already got plenty of sailors. You wouldn’t even make a fit member for the crew, scrawny kid. You’re not even fully grown yet.”

“I didn’t come to volunteer for your crew, Captain.”

“Well then?”

“If I lose…” Jake shored up his courage and shoved away a thought of Dani. “I take your place. And you go free.”

Davy Jones leaned forward, eyes narrowing, then froze. He looked absolutely shocked. “What’s this?”

“If I lose the game, you go free,” Jake declared, “and I become the Lord of the Locker.”

Jones looked at him as if he had gone mad. “Why would you risk such a thing? You’re just a boy. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

Jake shrugged. “If you flood the world, I’m going to die anyway.”

“Oh, but death is a luxury!” The pirate shot up off the barrel where he’d perched and paced a few steps back and forth, staring at Jake as though
he
were the freak here. “You have no idea. Believe me, I’ve tried! Nothing works. I always come back again. That’s how I know I’ll be doing all those useless breathers on the dry land a favor when I introduce them to oblivion. If only I could be so fortunate!”

“Yes,” Jake said in a low tone, “I noticed that you felt that way. The line from that poem you keep quoting. I looked it up. John Milton,
Paradise Lost
. Words spoken by the Devil in the poet’s tale.”

“That’s right. ‘Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heav’n.”

“And the sea is your Hell, your eternal punishment, along with this ship…” Jake gazed at him, almost in pity. “You’ve done this job for many years.”

“Aye, lad,” Jones admitted quietly. “And I am more weary of it than you can possibly imagine.”

“Wager with me, then. I win, you release my friends and hand over the orb. I lose, I willingly take the curse from you, and you’re the one who’s finally released.” Jake held his breath as Davy Jones considered this unforeseen possibility, looking dazed…

And then he could not resist.

“Very well. Come with me,” he ordered, pivoting to march deeper into the cargo hold.

Jake’s heart pounded as he followed. “First I want to see for myself that my cousin and the girl are all right!”

“They’re back here—and should bloody well be finished fixing it by now.”

To Jake’s surprise, the cargo section of the ship-turned-Locker ended in what looked like part of a tavern, of all things. And there, standing at a round table, were Archie and Nixie, working on the orb—or at least pretending to do so.

“There’s still more sand left in the hourglass!” Archie yelled, turning when the captain entered, but then he gasped. “Jake! What are you doing here?”

Nixie said nothing, but her pale face showed her ominous surprise at his arrival.

“I trust you two clever beans are almost finished fixing my orb,” Jones said, perusing the mere two pieces still left on the table.

Archie had put the rest of the orb’s wedges back together again, but thankfully, the artifact still did not look operational.

“Hold on,” Jake interjected before his cousin could answer. “If I become the king of the sea in your place, Jones, it’ll be up to
me
whether to use the orb or not.”

“What?”
Archie cried, hearing this.

Jake ignored him, as did their host.

“True,” Jones conceded. “And I suppose if I’m to go to land and finish out what was to have been my mortal life, there’s no point in flooding the place. Right, take a break, you two. But keep your distance. I don’t want anybody helping the lad.”

“Helping him what?” Nixie asked.

“What are you doing, coz?” Archie demanded, aghast, as Jones beckoned Jake over to another round table near the bar. “You can’t gamble with him!”

Focused on the enemy, Jake merely sent his cousin a quick, reassuring glance as he sat down with Davy Jones.

Across from him, the Lord of the Locker pulled out his skull-shaped dice box and began rattling it with an eager grin. He plunked it down in front of Jake. “Behold the knucklebones! You know how to play?”

“Knucklebones?” Archie murmured as he and Nixie drew closer.

“These are no ordinary dice,” Jones said. “The Devil gave ’em to me.”

“No, he didn’t,” Nixie said with a scoff.

Jones didn’t clarify if he was serious or joking. “Proper knucklebones have to be made from the bones of a cloven-hoofed animal. A black goat, in this case.”

“Figures,” Archie mumbled, folding his arms across his chest.

“What do I do?” Jake asked innocently. But of course a boy who had spent his earliest years in a rough-and-tumble orphanage and then lived scrapping in the rookery knew the rules of street dice well.

Especially a boy who had walked into the game already planning to cheat. Well, he was no flower of chivalry, Jake admitted. That was Archie’s department.

Jones spilled out the knucklebones onto the table.

Goat bones or not, they had been shaped into cubes and polished smooth, and looked like two ordinary dice to Jake: black dots on ivory cubes. “So, what do I do, then?”

“I’ll talk you through it,” Jones said. “First, you roll the Main. This will determine whether you get to roll again or not. Certain numbers let you win immediately—seven and eleven–and certain numbers mean you immediately lose–two, three, and twelve.”

“What about the rest of the numbers?”

“Never mind them for the moment. Roll anything other than two, three, or twelve, and you’re safe. That’ll mean you get to roll again. Ready?”

“Jake, you don’t have to do this,” Archie pleaded, and Jake detected a meaningful undertone in his cousin’s voice that seemed to hint discreetly at the notion that Nixie and he were scheming something.

But Davy Jones took out his knife and plunged it down into the wooden table, staring harshly into Jake’s eyes. “Yes, he does. He’s come this far. He ain’t backin’ out now.”

Jake did not intend to. He was ready. He picked up the dice in his hand and let them roll around inside the loose curl of his fingers.

With Nixie and his cousin anxiously looking on, he rolled the bones, his telekinesis at the ready. But much to his relief, he did not have to use it on the Main roll—which was good, because Jones was watching him like a hawk.

Two fours resulted.

“An eight,” rumbled the captain. “All right. You didn’t win, but you didn’t lose, either. Not yet.”

“What’s next?” Jake asked.

“Your second roll is called the Chance. Since you rolled an eight on the Main, an eight becomes your goal now. The Chance means you just keep rolling the dice until you get another eight. If it comes up, you win. But along the way, if you should roll a seven instead, then you automatically lose and I win.”

“Don’t roll a seven, Jake,” Archie said.

“Thanks, Arch,” Jake muttered, giving his cousin a dirty look.
I may not be any good at maths, but I’m not a total idiot.

Jones folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair, watching. “Use the dice box,” he ordered, seemingly as an afterthought. “I won’t have you cheating. I remember your little magic trick on the beach. My men told me, too, how you threw them about without even having to touch them. Interesting talent.”

Jake rattled the dice box. “It doesn’t work with fine motions. Only large moves, for personal defense.”

“Hmm,” said Jones with a dark stare that seemed to have all the weight of the sea behind it.

“Come on, eight,” Jake mumbled, a little unnerved. He cast the knucklebones out of the dice box.

Five: a two and a three.
Whew
.

“Roll again,” Jones said.

Jake scooped up the dice.

“No one’s ever done this before, you know,” Jones remarked as Jake shook the dice box. “Volunteered to trade places with me.”

“From what I know about curses,” Nixie said, “there are only two ways to get rid of one. If it can’t be broken, it can usually be transferred to a willing volunteer. It usually has to be an innocent person, so the wicked souls of drowned sailors you collect probably don’t qualify.”

“Aye, and by the time they meet me, they’re usually too scared to think straight,” Jones said in amusement, studying Jake. “But not this kid.”

Jake shrugged. “I don’t scare too easily.”

“Ha!” Jones let out a short bark of grim laughter. “Daresay you’d be perfect for the job, then. It has its moments, I suppose.”

Jake shook the dice box restlessly, ready as before to use his powers to get the result he wanted, but only as a last resort. He knew he’d better take care not to make Jones any more suspicious than he already was. There was no telling how he’d react.

He cast the dice again across the table: four.

Safe.

His next roll came up a ten. With every throw, it seemed more likely he would roll the seven. He was getting nervous at his own good luck, and that meant it was time to bring this charade to a close.

At last, Jake’s next roll produced the needed eight. He hadn’t even needed to cheat!

He sat back with a grin and a genuine sigh of relief. That must’ve been the easiest saving of the world ever.

“I win. Arch, Nix, let’s get out of here.” He started to stand up. “Nice playing against you, sir. We’ll take the orb and be on our way—”

“Not so fast! This isn’t over yet! I didn’t say they
both
could go!” Jones shot out of his seat and leaned menacingly over the table across from Jake, clapping him back down again with a clammy, blue-tinged hand on his shoulder. “
One
. I’ll let one go. If you want to try for the other, we play again.”

“That wasn’t what we agreed on!” Jake exclaimed.

“Take it or leave it, kid. Three prizes ought to take three rounds.”

Jake scowled at him. “You just want more chances.”

“We’re not wagering for tuppence here, lad. You want to play for high stakes, then welcome to the big boys’ table. One friend only may go this time, or I keep all three and you can turn around and walk away. Your choice.”

Jake and Archie exchanged a meaningful glance.

“Nixie,” Archie said in a strained voice, gesturing toward the hatch. “Ladies first.”

She scoffed at his gallantry.

“Go on, Nix,” Jake urged. “Maddox and Isabelle are waiting in the
Turtle
to pick you up. When you leave the Locker, swim over and hold on to the top of the sub. Maddox will carry you to the surface, then let you in the hatch.”

She looked from one to the other, then finally nodded in dismay.

“Here. Don’t forget your mask,” Archie said, handing it to her and tenderly helping her to put it on. “Try not to ascend too quickly, all right?”

She shook her head at him. “I don’t see why
you
shouldn’t be the one to go, Arch. You’re more valuable to the world than me–”

“Nixie!” both boys cried. There was no time for this.

“All right, all right, I’m going!”

Yes
, Jake thought,
before this madman changes his mind.
After Jones’s sneaky, last-minute switch of the rules, Jake didn’t feel so bad about his willingness to cheat if necessary.

“Thanks for doing this, Jake,” Nixie said in a low tone before tightening her mask and sealing it over her face. As she hugged Archie goodbye, Jake believed she whispered something in his ear.

It strengthened his suspicion that the pair had already hatched some scheme. But he could see they were being careful not to let Jones notice their duplicity.

Then Archie bade Nixie a strained goodbye—all three of them well aware that this still could go very wrong.

Jones made the boys follow him so he could keep an eye on them as he escorted Nixie to the hatch. While Jones told his crew that she had his permission to leave, Archie elbowed Jake. He started to try to tell him something, but Jones turned around, eager to get on with the game.

Archie dropped his gaze and kept his mouth shut.

Jake wondered what it was.

“Go,” the captain ordered, leaving the hatch open this time in his haste to return to their wager.

Forced to walk ahead of him, they had no way to communicate without being seen or overheard. They returned to the tavern section in silence, and Jake returned to his seat at the gaming table.

“Now then. Round two,” Jones said, dropping heavily into the chair across from him. “The game starts over. Roll a new Main. Remember—a two, a three, or a twelve—”

“And I automatically lose. Yes, yes, I remember,” Jake said. Hopefully, he might just roll a seven or eleven and automatically win. Then Archie could at least get out of here, although Jake supposed the captain would probably force the boy genius to finish fixing the orb and then show him how it worked before he’d let him leave.

Archie stood near the table, anxiously watching the throw of the dice that would decide his fate.