Sorcerer's Secret by Scott Mebus Read Free Book Online Page A

undoubtedly to refuse again. But something completely unexpected popped out.
    â€œThe Little Red Lighthouse,” Mr. Hennessy said, then blinked, shocked. A look of horror spilled across his face. “Why did I say that? I didn’t want to say that!” He began to back away.
    Rory was lost. “Are you serious?”
    Mr. Hennessy stood still for a moment, a deer caught in headlights, and then, without saying another word, he turned and ran into the woods. Still shocked, Rory let him go.
    Bridget ran up behind him.
    â€œWhere is he going? What did you say to him?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Rory replied, dazed. “But I think, for the first time, he just told me the truth.”

4
    THE LITTLE RED LIGHTHOUSE
    A skook slithered through the underbrush in the early morning light, taking care to stay as quiet as possible. Before Kieft sent him north, he’d been keeping watch from afar on his people in the park. He knew he’d been cast out for the games he’d played, but it did not bother him. He did not feel lonely. He felt mysterious—he knew secrets no one else did, deep secrets most would never dare to unearth. One day he would be the last of his people—Kieft had promised him. He wished every moment for that blessed day to come; he would then hold the secrets of an entire race. That thought made him shiver with pleasure.
    Shorakapkok—that was what his people had called these woods hundreds of years ago. Askook could remember coming to this trading camp as a young boy, collecting wampum and other fine things in exchange for the copper his father had amassed from the southern Lenape tribes. Few Munsees had actually lived on the island back then. It was far too hilly to easily grow crops. Instead, they all came together on Mannahatta to trade. Askook remembered watching his father with pride as he skillfully bartered with the men of other tribes. And when the newcomers came, even better opportunities arose. But Askook’s father refused to trade with the newcomers, mistrusting their insatiable need for fur and land. It didn’t matter. In the end, his father had everything taken from him—a Dutch soldier shot him for his wampum, simply grabbing for himself what the old man had refused to sell. And Askook could not blame the soldier. His father had been foolish and stubborn. Askook did not make the same mistake. He’d traded and sold everything he could—land, fur, slaves, everything. He became famous among his people for his underhanded deals. They changed his name to Askook, and though they meant it as a slur, he took the name with pride. You did not tread upon a snake. A snake had the power to make you watch your step. And the notoriety of his name grew, as did his stature. So what if they did not trust him? They still came to him when they were in need. Just as Kieft had come.
    Askook moved through the trees of a Shorakapkok much changed from those early days. Now they called it Inwood, a name with very little power. But these trees still trembled with memory. This was where Wampage had spent the past century and a half, Askook was sure of it. He fingered his knife—already imagining what taking Wampage’s life would feel like. Goose bumps rose upon his skin as he moved farther into the forest. Something powerful waited up ahead, he could feel it
    Then he spied movement through the trees. Askook slid behind a tree before he could be seen, glancing around the trunk at the source of the disturbance. It was the figure of a man sitting alone in the shade of a giant rock, sniffling to himself. He looked familiar . . . Askook crept closer, trying to catch a glimpse. The man turned slightly, and the early morning light fell upon his face. Askook repressed a gasp. Him! Here? All his plans flew away as he quickly turned to run back to his master. Everything was different now that the traitor had returned . . .

    R ory and his friends left the shell pit at