Isle of Fire by Wayne Thomas Batson Read Free Book Online

decision has come.”

    Father Brun and the monks had prepared a special banquet in the Brethren’s dining hall for Declan Ross and his senior crew members. Cat, seated between his captain and the leader of the Brethren, felt like a mooring line stretched between two drifting ships. Father Brun had agreed to give Cat one last night to make the decision, and the tension was relentless.
    â€œHa-ha!” Jacques St. Pierre cackled proudly from the end of the table. “The look on this man’s face—the man we caught that day in Bristol—what was his name again?”
    â€œFremont,” said Red Eye as if he’d heard the story a hundred times.
    â€œOui, Fremont, that was it. The look on his face when I lit the fuse, and he could not snuff it out—that was, how you say . . . priceless!”
    â€œHe stole the wrong barrel!” said Jules, his voice so deep the silverware rattled.
    â€œActually,” said St. Pierre, “Fremont stole the right barrel. It was full of grain, not black powder. But Fremont did not know this. Ha-ha!”
    Even Red Eye had not heard that part of the tale. “You put a fuse in a barrel full of grain?”
    â€œI put fuses in everything, ha-ha!” To emphasize the point, St. Pierre held up his arm and showed all that a small length of hemp-fuse stuck out of his sleeve.
    â€œYou shouldn’t be so careless with explosives,” said Red Eye. The unfortunate accident with black powder that scarred the left side of his face also rendered his left eye blind, its pupil permanently colored dark red.
    â€œYou’ve never told me,” said Ross, “how did you know Fremont had taken a grain barrel and not the black powder?”
    â€œIt is élémentaire, mon capitaine. I carve a letter ‘B’ on the side of every barrel that contains explosives.”
    â€œAh,” said Jules. “‘B’ for black powder.”
    â€œNo, my gigantic friend, ‘B’ as in BOOM!!”
    Cat absently shoved a little bean around his plate with a fork. How can I abandon them? Cat wondered. They’re my friends. The bean skittered off the plate, so Cat went after a wedge of apple. More than friends—they saved my life. He recalled the day Anne had found him. He had been bloodied, wounded near to death, left alone on the island to die. At Anne’s insistence, Jules had carried Cat to safety.
    Anne. Cat stared across the table at her. Her long crimson hair swirled over her shoulder and across her neck as she playfully bickered with Red Eye and Jules. Her hazel eyes flashed with intensity even as she pretended to threaten Red Eye with a fork. The word friend didn’t quite cover what Cat felt for Anne. He wasn’t sure he knew of a word that would. But to leave the Bruce meant leaving her, and something about that thought twisted the pit of Cat’s stomach. Anne looked up at him, but the instant their eyes met she turned demurely away. Twist. Cat’s stomach continued to churn, as it would until late that evening.

    â€œAh!” Cat growled and thumped the mug on the table. The candle teetered. He caught it just before it fell and held it so that some melted wax would dribble into the holder. Then he reinserted the candle and . . . exhaled. He’d almost lost control again—AGAIN! Cat shook his head and looked up at the ceiling. What’s happening to me? he wondered. He cleared his mind as best he could. He needed clarity of thought tonight of all nights.
    If only there was some compromise , he thought . . . some way to stay with the Bruce and help out the Brethren . But he knew that Ross’s plan was to coordinate the Wolf fleet with Commodore Blake. So there was no way to . . . Cat stood up so abruptly his chair fell over. He looked out the window. It was late, and Cat had no idea if Father Brun might still be up. But what about Ross, would he agree to—? No, first things first.
    Cat grabbed the