Day of the Shadow by Rob Kidd Read Free Book Online Page A

hesitate for a moment. As the sword clattered to the floor, he yanked a handkerchief from his waistcoat, wrapped it around his hand, and bent down. Jack blinked at him for a moment, but by the time he realized what Chevalle was up to, the Frenchman was already on his feet again and advancing on Jack with a new weapon gleaming in his hand. The mirror shard was long and horribly pointy, with more than one jagged, deadly looking edge.
    “Can’t we be civilized about this?” Jack asked. “I mean, you haven’t even gotten me drunk yet. Where’s your respect for tradition, eh?”
    “I offered him a drink,” Chevalle hissed. “That was my first mistake.” He stopped advancing on Jack and stared into space again.
    “Uh,” Jack said, not wanting to draw attention to himself, and yet too worried not to ask. “Who?”
    “I thought I could fool him,” Chevalle said bitterly. “I intended to use my charm to disarm him before I attacked him.”
    “Your what, now?” Jack asked quizzically. “Have I met this ‘charm’ of yours? Another fancy dog, perhaps?”
    “But he was too strong,” Chevalle continued as if he hadn’t heard Jack. “Too terrible. There was nothing I could do. He only came for one thing.”
    Jack’s heart stopped. He froze in position, staring at Chevalle.
    “Penniless Frenchman, who are you talking about?”
    The hand holding the mirror shard dropped to his side, and Chevalle took an exhausted breath. He patted his forehead with one of his lacy cuffs. He looked tired and beaten.
    “The Shadow Lord.” Chevalle looked Jack in the eye. “He was here yesterday. He took my vial of Shadow Gold.”

C HAPTER N INE
    L amps were being lit on the deck of the merchant ship as night fell. The sailors moved quietly, subdued by the sinister presence of the pirates watching them from the Seref .
    Ammand the Corsair stood on his quarterdeck, looking down at Captain Hawk across the small stretch of water between their ships. Ammand was young for a Pirate Lord—younger than Mistress Ching or Chevalle or Sri Sumbhajee, for instance, although older than Jack. But there were deep lines in his face that testified to how much time he spent frowning.
    In fact, he was frowning right now.
    “Let me get this straight,” he said. “You want me to drop off your entire crew—alive—at the nearest port.”
    “Yes,” said Captain Hawk. He leaned on a carved wooden walking stick, looking unconcerned, as if he had conversations with swarthy, grouchy Pirate Lords every day of the week.
    Ammand’s hair was long and brown. His thick mustache was twisted into a thin curlicue at each end. His eyebrows whisked up at the edges as if they were imitating the mustache, and his large dark eyes were pitiless. Carolina wasn’t sure why Captain Hawk thought there was any chance of mercy from this pirate.
    Ammand strolled to the edge of his deck, hopped onto the railing, and leaped gracefully over onto the merchant ship. His pirates looked alarmed, then cocked their pistols threateningly. Ammand put up one hand to reassure them. He beckoned Captain Hawk to the side, away from his other sailors. In the gathering dusk, the corsair seemed not to notice Carolina, still crouched with Diego at the foot of the mast.
    “I am not a man who negotiates,” Ammand said curtly. He was astonishingly tall, perhaps as tall as Gentleman Jocard, so he towered over tiny Captain Hawk. His gold and brown coat gleamed in the lamplight. Carolina could see the bulky shape of a pistol tucked into his bloodred waist sash. Hanging from his belt was a wicked-looking curved sword—his famed scimitar.
    Captain Hawk inclined his head at the Barbary pirate. “I understand. But I believe you are also an intelligent man who likes to maximize his profits.”
    Ammand twisted an end of his mustache between his fingers, studying the captain narrowly. “Explain.”
    Hawk inhaled. “Do you smell that?” he asked. “Burning. That’s my ship burning, thanks to your