Sebastian Darke: Prince of Pirates (32 page)

Cornelius consulted his chart and frowned. Then he glanced at Sebastian. 'It would seem Nathaniel's story wasn't so far-fetched after all,' he said. 'He mentioned walking towards a high peak when he was attacked. And that's exactly where we're headed.'

'Oh, goody,' muttered Max. 'It had to be.'

'Don't you complain,' Sebastian warned him. 'You could have stayed safe aboard the
Sea Witch
, but no, you insisted on coming with us.'

'A good thing by the sound of it,' retorted Max. 'What would your mother think if I let you face these sparkles without my help?'

'Yarkles,' Donovan corrected him.

'We'd better get moving,' Jenna told them. 'Time's passing, and if we're going to encounter these beasts, I'd rather we did it in daylight.'

'Good point,' said Cornelius. He nodded at the two who had elected to stay behind. 'Captain Donovan, Bever— Kid, hopefully we'll see you later.'

'Good luck,' said the Kid. 'Watch your backs.'

'Yes,' said Donovan, grinning like a maniac. 'Look to the long grass and keep listenin' out for steps behind you. I'll say a prayer for your safe return.'

The Kid looked at his father in surprise. 'A prayer?' he cried.

'Oh yes. Many things have changed since I last saw you, boy. I pray a lot these days. How do you think you found your way back to me?

He draped an arm around his son's shoulders and the two of them turned away and started along the track that led back to the beach.

'Amazing,' said Sebastian. 'To come all this way and find a lost soul. Even if we don't discover the treasure, the trip's already been worthwhile.'

Cornelius looked somewhat unconvinced by this. 'But rather
more
worthwhile if we end up getting out hands on a fortune in gold and precious jewels,' he said.

'I wouldn't get your hopes up too high,' Max warned him. 'You heard what Donovan said about that so-called treasure map. Not to mention those vicious beasts that hide in the long—'

He broke off at the sound of a distant shriek that made everybody lift their heads to listen. Two blood-curdling notes echoed on the air, and Sebastian understood exactly why Captain Donovan had named the creatures yarkles: that was exactly the sound they made.

Max swallowed noisily. 'I don't suppose there's any point in suggesting that we turn round and head back to the ship?' he ventured.

'None whatsoever,' said Cornelius, starting forward towards the edge of the clearing.

'No chance,' added Jenna, striding after him.

Sebastian didn't say anything. He smiled ruefully at the buffalope, shrugged his shoulders and followed the others.

'Yes, well, I just thought I'd ask,' said Max dolefully. 'I might have known I was wasting my breath.' He lowered his head and began to plod dutifully after his friends.

Beyond the clearing, the jungle reared up again and the narrow track twisted and turned through dense ranks of vegetation. The heat intensified, making them sweat profusely, and the air buzzed with a multitude of insects, intent on feasting on the blood of these unexpected visitors. Off in the mysterious green depths, unidentified creatures yelped, howled and croaked, the constant sound fraying their nerves.

But they did not hear the yarkles again for quite some time.

They walked for what seemed like hours with no real change of scenery, the undergrowth crowding in oppressively on either side. Then, just as they were beginning to think that the trail would lead on for ever, they came to a place where a steep rocky slope rose up and left the jungle behind. They struggled up the incline to the top of a ridge and found themselves looking down into a valley that was completely cloaked in a covering of long yellow grass, which swayed rhythmically in the wind. On the far side of the wide meadow, the foothills of the mountains rose steeply.

Cornelius consulted his map and read aloud:

'
Now you leave the narrow pass
And move across a sea of grass,
And if the treasure you would seek,
Walk towards the highest peak
.'

'Hmmph!' said Max. 'Not what you'd call great poetry, is it?'

'Never mind the poetry,' said Cornelius. 'We're not here for an education.' He glanced at the others. 'Remember what Donovan said. Those lizard things may be out there. If anything comes at us in that grass, our best chance is to stick together.' He gazed towards the mountain and pointed with his sword towards what was quite clearly the highest peak. 'Let's go,' he said. And they moved down the slope into the long grass.

It was incredibly disorientating. The grass grew higher than Sebastian's head, and it was only because the crest of the mountain remained in sight that they knew they were heading in the right direction. They fanned out to walk abreast rather than going in single file and kept their ears alert for any sounds approaching them. It soon became apparent that big creatures had recently passed through these grasslands, because there were ragged trails where the grasses had been crushed flat by the passage of something heavy. Nobody spoke, not even Max, because they knew instinctively that any noise might attract the creatures that guarded this place.

Then they came to a terrifying sight: a great pile of dung was heaped in the middle of one of the trails. They all looked at it in dismay. It was as big as a boulder and covered by a great mantle of buzzing flies.

Of course, it was Max who voiced what everybody was thinking.

'If that's the size of its poo, how big is the beast?' he muttered apprehensively.

Nobody answered him. They edged round the dung pile and continued on their way in silence.

They must have been halfway across the valley when Sebastian heard it: a dry rustling sound away to his left, as though something was pushing through the grass towards them – something big, judging by the noise it was making. Sebastian reached down and tapped Cornelius's shoulder, then pointed in the direction the noise was coming from. The little warrior paused to listen and nodded grimly. He could hear it too.

They quickened their pace, but doing so meant that they made more noise and, sure enough, the rustling sound seemed to be homing in on them. And then, to make matters worse, Sebastian heard more sounds coming from the right, and he remembered what Donovan had said earlier:

Yarkles hunt in pairs.

The noises to either side intensified, and now Sebastian could make out thudding sounds, as though heavy feet were propelling massive bodies forward through the grass. He didn't really want to look back over his shoulder but somehow he just had to. And he was doing exactly that when, quite suddenly, the nearest of the beasts came into view, and he felt a thrill of terror go through him, because he was looking at something from his wildest nightmares.

It was a huge grey-green lizard, three times the height of a man, that ran upright on two incredibly powerful back legs. Its forelegs were tiny, stick-like things that looked barely capable of holding anything, but it had a massive loaf-shaped head that seemed to hinge through the middle into a set of jaws that were fringed with what looked like hundreds of razor-sharp teeth.

The beast was looking down at the creatures running before it, its tiny eyes glittering with predatory malevolence. As it moved closer, it opened its mouth and let out an ear-shattering roar, bathing the runners with the stench of raw meat. It towered over them, its head moving from side to side, as though uncertain who to attack first.

Then its companion closed in from the other side, equally big, equally fearsome. The beasts were trying to trap their prey in a pincer movement.

The first yarkle seemed to reach a decision. It shifted position slightly and lunged downward with its great jaws. Sebastian felt the heat of the beast's breath enveloping him

and instinctively threw himself to one side, just as a scaly snout slammed against him, the great teeth locking with a click inches from his ribs. As he fell, he lashed out with the sword and felt the blade glance off the scaly flesh of the beast's nose; heard a corresponding bellow of mingled pain and surprise.

Then Sebastian hit the ground, rolled forward and came up onto his feet again. As he did so, Cornelius and Jenna turned back and took up defensive positions on either side of him. Max wheeled round too, his horns ready to charge.

The yarkles came at them, shrieking in indignation. Clearly they were not used to having their prey fight back. The first of them lunged down with its snout and was met by three swords, which slashed at its nose and jaw. It reeled back with a frustrated bellow and swung round. Something came cutting through the long grass like a great fat scythe, and Sebastian just had time to register that it was the beast's tail before he was knocked backwards off his feet. He lay stunned, realizing that Jenna was lying beside him, and he saw the creature's great clawed feet come crashing down on either side of him. He started to struggle upright—

And then he saw Cornelius go racing in beneath the creature's splayed legs, and as Sebastian watched in amazement, the little warrior took a flying leap towards the back of one of those legs and his sword hissed round in a deadly arc, cutting through the yarkle's hamstring. The roar that issued from the beast was almost deafening and it tipped backwards, its tiny front legs clawing at the air as it fell.

But there was no time to watch what happened next because the second yarkle was closing on Sebastian and Jenna, roaring vengefully. Calmly Jenna selected an arrow from her quiver and took careful aim. She fired, and the arrow bounced off the yarkle's skull. She gave a tut of irritation, then reached for another arrow.

'You can do it,' Sebastian told her.

She didn't answer but drew back the bow and aimed a second time. The arrow flew low and pierced the bottom part of the creature's jaw, causing it evident pain but not doing much to slow it down.

'Rats!' said Jenna.

'It's getting close,' Sebastian warned her. He cringed as a huge roar came from behind him and, turning his head, he saw that Cornelius had just plunged his sword into the first yarkle's throat, finishing it off. He turned back to look at Jenna, who was calmly nocking another arrow to her string. 'It's getting
very
close,' he added nervously.