The Caribbean by Rob Kidd Read Free Book Online Page B

madness of New Orleans. “No chance one of you speaks French, is there?” Jack asked. They shook their heads. “No, that’d be far too useful. All right, forget it, carry on.” He sidled closer to the crates as the Spanish pair walked away, but he couldn’t make out anything Jean was saying. He could hear Marcella stamping her foot and saying “ NON! ” every now and then, though. That was rather worrisome. Not exactly what he was looking for in a new crew member.
    Meanwhile, Barbossa was preparing a longboat to sail up the river. “This is madness, Jack,” he said, stacking flasks of fresh water in the boat. “You don’t even know where we’re going. Just upriver, you’ve said. What type of direction is that?”
    “Never fear, Hector,” Jack said expansively. “These things tend to work out in the end.”
    “Yes, for you and for nobody else,” Barbossa muttered.
    Jean reemerged, dragging Marcella behind him. “It’s all settled,” he said happily. “Marcella agrees that this will be a great opportunity for us.”
    If she did agree, you certainly couldn’t tell from the look on her face.
    “Er,” Jack said, “well then…welcome aboard…I suppose.”
    Barbossa scowled at Marcella. “Another woman?” he said. “I suppose our luck can’t get much worse.”
    Marcella turned up her nose at him. “I assure you, dirty man,” she said, “that it most certainly can.” She marched up the gangplank, her skirts flouncing.
    “Oh, dear,” Jean said, rubbing his head.
    “We’ll be off, then,” Jack said quickly. “You settle in and take care of…all that. We’ll be back in two shakes of a feather.” He jumped into the boat with Barbossa. “Never understood that phrase myself,” he said, settling down in the front of the boat and leaving the seat with the oars for his first mate. “Why would anyone be shaking feathers to tell time? It’s quite mysterious.” He stared at Barbossa’s feathered hat and raised an eyebrow.
    Barbossa, realizing that he was going to be rowing all the way upriver until they found Tia Dalma, looked as if he was going to say something rather angry. But he narrowed his eyes, held his tongue, and sat down to row. One day things would change. But now was not the time.
    The boat set off, weaving between the larger ships until it came to the wide, rushing waters of the Mississippi River. As they moved steadily upstream, Jack studied the banks from below the rim of his hat. His chest was beginning to ache again with the pain and weight of the shadow illness. He needed a cure as soon as possible.
    Tia Dalma was his only hope.

C HAPTER S EVEN
    J ack started awake and found himself surrounded by darkness. For a moment he could not remember where he was; he felt the bow of a small boat underneath him and the rocking of the water, and he had a strange feeling that his father was sitting nearby, watching him.
    Then he remembered the longboat and the river and the trip to see Tia Dalma. His sleep had been haunted by nightmares, dark dream creatures with long arms and slithering bodies pursuing him everywhere, trying to steal the Pearl and his freedom and his beloved hat. He sat up and saw Barbossa lighting a lantern. The oars lay still below his hands.
    “What’s happening?” Jack said. “Where are we?”
    “I don’t know,” Barbossa said, and his voice was more subdued and less sarcastic than Jack had ever heard it. “These are wild and dangerous parts, Jack. I’m not even certain we’re on the Mississippi anymore. The boat—it just went where it wanted to. Almost like someone was calling it.”
    Jack peered into the murky darkness ahead of them. All he could see was the reflection of the lantern in the dark ripples of water right around the boat. From the sound of the waves lapping against land, he guessed that the shores were close on either side of them, but there was nothing to be seen in any direction. Either clouds were covering the night sky, or trees growing