The Ship of Lost Souls 1 by Rachelle Delaney Read Free Book Online

emerged—a swarm of black hoods. Thomas looked like he might cry. Silently, one by one, the figures launched themselves off the side of the ship and rappelled down the rope to the sloop below. Jem couldn’t believe it—he was being kidnapped from his kidnappers!
    â€œOur turn,” Jem’s new captor said in a low, grumbly voice, nudging him toward the edge. “Hold the rope tight and let yourself down.” When Jem hesitated, the thing gave him a shove.
    â€œWhat would Master Davis do in my place?” Jem wondered aloud as he dangled his legs over the dark Atlantic and the ship of cloaked ghouls. Chalk it all up to building character? Try to reason with the Lost Souls?
    â€œPlease let me wake up to discover it’s all been a dream,” Jem said. Then he shut his eyes, imagined himself back at school, and slid down the rope. Oh sure, the King’s Cross wasn’t the most thrilling place to live. But at least at school he was safe. Suddenly the predictability of a life completely without surprises seemed downright appealing.
    Jem opened his eyes when his feet connected with the deck of the
Margaret’s Hop
. He sighed. If this was a dream, it wasn’t over yet.
    His captor dropped onto the deck behind him, then used a dagger to cut the rope that tied them to the pirate ship. “All hands on deck!” it hollered, as the sloop began to drift away from the
Dark Ranger
. Jem looked up at the ship he’d just escaped from. Thomas leaned over the side, waving a handkerchief like a forlorn mother. Beside him stood the Dread Pirate Captain Wallace Hammerstein-Jones, tearing at his hair and crying, “You let him get away! The treasure was about to be ours, and you let him get away!” His voice faded into the night.
    For a few minutes the Lost Souls seemed to forget about Jem, abandoning him on the deck while they ran about the ship, calling orders like “All hands!” and “Weigh anchor!”
    The Lost Soul who was manning the wheel chose a course, and off they sailed into the darkness, away from Captain Wallace’s wails. And away from Uncle Finn, wherever he was.
    Jem gave into his wobbly knees and sank down to the floorboards, which smelled vaguely rotten and moldy. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he remembered the times he’d tuned out Uncle Finn’s lectures on flowering shrubs. Or faked sick to be excused. How could he have been so thoughtless? But he didn’t get far into the memory, for soon the Lost Souls returned and formed a huddle around him, their dark cloaks rustling.
    A few of the ghouls chuckled, and Jem dared to look up at them, expecting the worst. What could come next on this disastrous adventure? A fateful plank walking? Or something more torturous? But the ghouls made no move to hurt him, until the biggest one—his captor, Jem was certain—poked him in the ribs with the toe of its boot.
    â€œLeave him alone,” another Lost Soul spoke up. “He’s scared.”
    â€œYeah, Lucas. Don’t touch him.”
    A demon named Lucas? Absurd. But Jem had come to expect as much. He’d just lie still and hope the dream would end soon.
    â€œBut look what I found on him earlier,” the one named Lucas said. “Looks like a map.”
    Uncle Finn’s map! Jem’s head shot up, and he struggled to his knees. He hadn’t even noticed it missing from his sleeve.
    â€œGive it here.” Another ghoul snatched it from Jem’s captor.
    â€œNo!” Jem shouted. They would not have his map, his uncle’s pride, and his last bit of Uncle Finn. Without thinking logically—for by now he was far beyond thinking logically—Jem threw himself at the Lost Soul who was holding his map and tackled it to the floor. “Give it back!”
    The ghoul fell with a shriek, although not the shriek one would expect from the dead. A softer, more human shriek. Jem pinned it to the floor,