The Caribbean (7 page)

T
he
Black Pearl
sailed along the dark green coast of South America as Jack held up his map and tried to figure out where they were. Up in the crow’s nest, Diego and Carolina searched with the spyglass for the ship that had been following them, but it looked like they’d managed to lose it.

“Regular maps,” Jack muttered, squinting at the charts. “Very confusing. A cartographic conspiracy, say I. Give me a treasure map any day.”

“The Incas live here, in the Andes, mostly in Peru,” Jean said, leaning over his shoulder, turning the map right side up, and tapping a section of the continent.

“Well, how are we supposed to get there?” Jack asked, turning the map upside down again. “By sailing all the way to the bottom and up the other side? That’s absurd.” He peered at the thin shape of Panama. “You know, somebody should build a canal here,” he said, pointing at it. “That would speed things up nicely.”

Barbossa snorted. “Oh, yes. I’m sure someone will get right on that,” he said.

“I guess we could leave the ship up north and get there over land,” Jean said dubiously.

“Capital!” Jack said. “Let’s do that! Barbossa, find a place to hide the ship.”

Grumbling, Barbossa swung the ship closer to shore. Soon they found an inlet that led to a sheltered cove, surrounded by swaying palm trees and thick jungle. White sandy beaches curved around them in a welcoming crescent of warm sand. It was easy to sail the ship right up into the shallow water. Jack’s crew jumped out and began to haul the
Pearl
up on the sand.

“All right,” Jack said, surveying his options with a doubtful expression. “Barbossa, Diego, Gombo, Jean, you’re with me. Billy, you stay and guard the ship with the others.”

“What about me?” Carolina said. “I want to help.”

“And
I
don’t want to be left alone with a bunch of
smelly pirates
,” Marcella said, stamping her foot. She sidled over and wrapped herself around Diego’s arm. “I want to go with Diego.”

Diego was more than a little alarmed by this turn of events. Why, oh, why couldn’t it be Carolina who couldn’t bear to be parted from him?

“No, no, no, absolutely not,” Jack said.

Marcella looked furious, took a deep breath, and opened her mouth to scream. “All right, shut it,” Jack said quickly. “Fine. Just don’t blame me if you both get eaten by panthers.”

Marcella opened and closed her mouth several times, but didn’t seem to have anything to say to this.

Carolina just smiled.

They climbed over the rail and splashed through the water up to the beach. Diego edged away from Marcella and studied the sand curiously. He walked up the beach to the high tide mark as the others caught up.

“What is it, Diego?” Carolina asked.

“Yes, what is it, Diego?” Marcella said instantly, crowding Carolina aside.

Diego held out his hand, keeping her back. “Wait, don’t walk here yet,” he said. “Captain Sparrow, come look. I think someone has been here before us.” He pointed to some indentations in the sand. “The tide has nearly washed them away, but I think there were footprints here, coming up the beach. Meaning another ship—and whoever it was must have gone into the jungle.” He glanced around. “Maybe over there; it looks like there could be a path.”

“If they’re not Incas, I’m not interested,” Jack said. He glanced around at the thick mass of foliage pressing in around the beach. “Well, perhaps a path would be useful.”

It was, in fact, a path, although it looked like it was meant to be hidden from the beach by a screen of woven palm fronds. When they pushed through, they could see signs that someone—more likely several people—had come through with machetes or something similar and carved a definite route through the undergrowth.

“I don’t like this,” Gombo said darkly. “It might be of the Other World. Where could it lead? Would we want to meet whoever might be at the end of it? No, I fear we have more enemies than friends out there. I say we stay away from the path.”

“That’s stupid!” Marcella objected. “It’s so much easier to take the path. We’ll never get anywhere climbing through all this leafy stuff!”

“And surely whoever was here has gone,” Diego said, “since there is no boat in the cove waiting for them.”

“Thank you for agreeing with me, Diego,” Marcella said, batting her eyelashes at him.

Carolina hid a smile as Diego turned red.

“I take your point, Gombo, mate,” Jack said, “but I’m afraid that we are in rather a hurry, so the fastest route is, ipso facto, ergo sum,
e pluribus
something or other, the best route. And maybe it leads to the Incas.” He took out the
quipu
and shook it. Nothing. Ah, well. He put it back in his pocket and set out down the path, drawing his sword in case they did run into any nasties.

Gombo offered to scout ahead, and they all watched him silently run off along the path on bare feet.

“How are you feeling, Jack?” Barbossa asked solicitously. “Ill? Slightly unwell? Horribly unwell? Close to death? How close to death?”

“I’m quite all right,” Jack insisted, trying not to jump every time he saw a shadow moving beside him.

It was odd to be on land again after days on the ship; the ground seemed to wobble below them, and the sounds of the jungle were very different from the sounds of the sea. Instead of rushing waves and seagulls, their ears were full of the noise of parrots squawking, monkeys howling, and insects chirping and buzzing all around them.

Carolina liked the feeling of having “sea legs,” as if she really belonged on a ship instead of on land. But she was also excited to be exploring a whole new place. No one in her family had ever been anywhere like this before! She laughed quietly.

“What?” Diego asked, amused.

“I was just picturing my aunt’s face if she could see me now,” Carolina said, imitating the old woman’s pinched, disapproving expression. Diego chuckled.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about getting eaten alive by mosquitoes and dragging my pretty dress through all this mud,” Marcella butted in.

“Actually, I bet Aunt Reynalda’s face would look a little like that,” Carolina whispered to Diego, and he laughed out loud. Marcella narrowed her eyes at Carolina, but the Spanish princess was too busy gazing up into the trees to notice.

Gombo came padding back down the trail, holding one finger to his mouth to indicate silence. “There’s a fort up ahead,” he whispered.

“A fort?” Jack echoed. “Here? What kind of fort?” All of them remembered the last fort they had seen, in the town devastated by the Shadow Army.

“It flies the Spanish flag,” Gombo said.

Jack sighed theatrically. “What are they all doing here?”

“And more important,” Gombo pointed out, “why don’t they want anyone to know they are here? Why has the fort been so carefully hidden?”

“Did you see many guards?” Barbossa asked. “Is it well fortified?”

“Irrelevant,” Jack said, waving his hands. “We’ll just sneak past and head straight on into the mountains.”

“But think about it, Jack,” Barbossa argued.

“They probably have something to hide. Something worth
stealing
.”

“We don’t have time for crazy side excursions based on wild theories,” Jack said. “Not unless they’re
my
wild theories.”

“What if I checked it out myself?” Barbossa offered. “You go on ahead, and I’ll meet you back at the ship.”

Jack was too preoccupied with his illness and his quest for Shadow Gold to notice the ominous gleam in Barbossa’s eyes. “Very well,” he said. “Do what you like. I can find the Incas without you.”

But Barbossa’s sinister machinations had not escaped everyone’s notice. “I’ll go with Barbossa,” Diego offered. He didn’t trust the first mate out of Jack’s sight. He had a feeling that Barbossa would be more than happy to sail off with the
Black Pearl
as soon as he got a chance.

“I, too, will go with Barbossa,” Gombo said, for the same reason. He did not necessarily believe Jack was the best captain—too much jumping at shadows, for one thing—but he owed Jack his loyalty for helping him escape, and he was quite sure Barbossa would be a far worse captain. No, he intended to keep an eye on Barbossa for Jack, even if Jack did not know it.

“No need for that,” Barbossa said with a sly smile. “I can manage alone.”

“It’s all the same by me who goes where,” Jack said. “But hurry up and decide—I have Incas to find, Shadow Gold to acquire, and a Shadow Army to hide from.…”

“We’re going with you,” Gombo said firmly to Barbossa.

“Fine.” Barbossa spat. They had crept forward to the point where they could see the tall stone walls of the fort ahead of them. The path wound past it and continued uphill toward a mountain peak in the distance.

“I want to go with Diego,” Marcella piped up.

“A capital plan,” Jack said. “Much better idea than coming with me. You go ahead with good old Diego.” He pushed her in Diego’s direction.

“Absolutely not,” Barbossa said. “I’m not risking my neck dragging a girl into a Spanish fort with me. Especially
this
girl.”

“Shouldn’t you stay with me, cousin?” Jean asked.

“I
want
to go with
Diego
!” Marcella insisted, stamping her foot. “He’s the
only
one who
understands me
!”

“I am?” Diego said, surprised. “I do?”

“Alas, the dire consequences of lending a girl your handkerchief,” Carolina whispered to him, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“All right, that’s settled, then,” Jack said, waving his hands. “She goes with you. Captain’s final word. Farewell, good luck, have fun storming the fort and all that.” He scampered ahead on the path, and Jean and Carolina followed him quickly. Carolina glanced back once, meeting Diego’s gaze, and mouthed “good luck” to him with a little wave.

I think I’m going to need it, Diego thought as Marcella, with a triumphant smile, wound her arm through his.

“I
t is possible this was not the best plan,” Jack admitted after an hour of climbing through dense jungle. He paused to examine the tree in front of him, which looked much like the tree behind him, and the tree beyond that, and every other blasted tree he’d seen since the beach. The path had ended shortly beyond the fort, and now he and Jean and Carolina were all covered in dirt and insect bites and scratches from all the branches that kept whipping back in their faces.

The trees were finally beginning to give way to more open terrain, but the air was also getting colder as they climbed farther and farther up the hillside.

“What plan?” Carolina asked. “Pick a continent and just start walking? Figuring you’ll run into someone who lives there eventually? What could be wrong with that plan?”

Jack squinted at her. “I think I liked you better when you were more worried about me throwing you off my ship.”

“Let’s look at the
quipu
again,” Jean suggested. “Maybe we’re missing something.”

Jack took it out and walked ahead, aiming for a patch of sunlight where the tree cover was thin over a rocky slope. “Useless bunch of string,” he muttered. “Useless pile of kno—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

Jack vanished into the earth with a startled yell.

“Jack!” Jean shouted, sprinting forward with Carolina. “Jack, are you all right?”

“Of course I am.” Jack’s voice came from down below. He had fallen into a slanting tunnel in the side of the hill, and now he looked up at them, tilting back his hat. “Never better. Did that on purpose, obviously. This is just what I was looking for.” He spread his arms, indicating the cave around him.

“A hole in the ground?” Carolina asked.

“A network of secret tunnels,” Jack said with emphasis, pointing to the darkness behind him. “Come down and see.”

“But how do you know it’s any help?” Jean asked.

“Shouldn’t we pull you out instead?” Carolina asked.

“One, always follow secret tunnels,” Jack answered. “That’s just obvious. You’ll learn when you’ve had a few more supernatural adventures. And B, look at
this
.” He held up the
quipu
. It was now glowing with an eerie silver light in the darkness of the cave. Jack smiled. “Told you it was mystical!”

Carolina and Jean carefully climbed down to join him. Tunnels extended from the cave in all directions, but as Jack demonstrated, the
quipu
glowed brightest when he chose the tunnel to the left, so they decided to follow that.

“Incroyable,”
Carolina whispered, touching the glowing
quipu
. “How does it do that?”

“Supernatural whatsits,” Jack said offhandedly. “You get used to it after a while.”

“Especially if you hang around Jack for very long,” Jean pointed out.

“Ahem…
Captain
Jack,” Jack said.

They walked and walked for a long time, staying close together to share the small circle of light cast by the
quipu
. Each time the tunnels branched, they watched the glowing string to decide which path to choose. The stone walls on either side of them were cold and damp, and they could hear water dripping in the caves they passed and underground rivers rushing down faraway tunnels. Otherwise it was very still, especially after the wild chatter of the jungle, and Jack became more and more aware of the darting shadows that only he could see.

But finally the tunnel began to slant up and up and up, and then they could see light ahead of them. With a happy cry of triumph, Jack sped up, leading the way out of the tunnel into a wide-open space.

It was sunrise, which didn’t make sense—it had been the middle of the day when they went into the tunnels, and they couldn’t have been down there
that
long. Even more impossibly, they were now very clearly standing on a mountaintop surrounded by other mountains, a long, long way from the sea. Jack looked down at the
quipu
in puzzlement. “Did you do that?” he asked it.

“Jack,” Jean said warningly. Jack turned around and realized that scattered across the mountaintop was a small city with stone temples, stairs, and wells built high above the jungle. And this city was most definitely occupied. A crowd was gathered around an altar, where a man in a long robe stood holding a tall, golden spear. He was glaring at Jack. In fact, they were all glaring at Jack.