Cerulean Isle (20 page)
“Owen,” hollered Grant, “come away from there.”
“On the contrary, my captain. You should come closer and have a look at this stone.”
We went to the ruined bow. Under Owen’s lantern light, we saw the stone’s color—a liquid blue with specks of black and bits of silver.
“Blue…” Owen seemed in a trance. “Azure. Cobalt. Indigo.”
“Cerulean,” I said.
“Yes,” he said. “Welcome to the greatest of all Mer islands. Ahoy!”
“This big blue rock is Cerulean Isle?” Grant remarked.
“Nay. When the fog lifts, you’ll see the island. We are in its shallows. I’d guess about three hundred yards from its beach. When the morning sun comes, it will burn away the fog, and then we shall celebrate!”
“Celebrate? Have you seen our ship?” Grant waved his good arm about. “As we stand here in awe over this abomination, the
Obsidian
sails closer and closer with cannon readied. I’ll celebrate when we fix the sloop and set sail.”
“Master Jacob. Captain Grant.” Bart made his way to us as he spoke. “One barrel of water and a crate of bottled ale is all that remains. Our stock of food was lost to the sea.”
“What of the extra arms?” I asked.
“There is a crate of pistols, but we’ve lost the powder. Only the swords remain.”
“Prepare the lifeboats for tomorrow,” Grant ordered. “If there is land yonder, we’ll go to it. Until then, no one is to go into the sea for any reason. Ensure that the crew adheres to this command above all else.”
“You have my word, Captain,” said Bart.
I awoke late in the morning. It was unusually quiet, no sounds of a working crew—no hammer falls or chewing of saw blades. I heard only the soft lapping of the ocean against our motionless hull. The crew gathered at the downward tilting bow.
The fog had lifted sometime in the night and now, as the sun broke through the clouds, the body of stone that ensnared our ship seemed to glow as blue as the sky and sparkled like the water that splashed against it. In the distance, beyond the unyielding wall of rock, was a small island lightly blanketed with white mist and surrounded by similar towering stones of silver and blue. The island rested in calm sapphire water and seemed to be made entirely of the mysterious stone. It was jagged and angular and completely guarded by the dangerous, teeth-like rocks. The sunlight played on the blue-stone island and a strange illusion unfolded. The entire landmass appeared to glitter and move, the colossal stones glowed, and soon I could hardly differentiate the island from the sea and sky. It was hidden in the endless blue. It sparkled like the ocean, yet remained as still as the cloud-dressed canvas of the heavens. The threatening forest of stone teeth standing around us was all that could be seen. I squinted through the blazing sunlight; the island was still there.
“Where did it go?” asked a mate in disbelief.
“It turned blue!” exclaimed another.
“It was a mirage. The sea is playing tricks on us.”
“Nay, you bloomin’ cleats,” Owen shouted. “It’s reflecting! The island is made of rock that shines like the sky and water. That be why seamen don’t see it as they pass. Besides, most won’t sail in shallows like this, and you can see why not.” He stomped his foot on the splintered deck to make his point clear.
“Bart, let the boats down. It’s time we explore that island,” Grant said.
“Wait,” Owen yelled. “This is Lord Sydin’s realm. We must not enter his water without invite.”
Waylin came forward. “Our enemy sails in our wake and we are crippled. We must go aground and take what will help us.”
“Nothing there is free for the taking,” said Owen.
“Ha! A notorious pirate speaks of ethics.”
“I am warning you,” growled Owen. “Do not go on that island. They will not be pleased.”
“Who? Your Mermaidens and Merlords? If this is the ‘greatest of Mer islands’ as you say, where are the Water People?”
Owen’s eyes darted across the sea. He panned the horizon for anything that would prove his claims. “I don’t know,” he finally said.
Waylin said nothing more. He walked away from Owen and the crew followed. I felt sorry for the old pirate, but there was nothing I could say or do.
~~~~~~
Grant elected to stay onboard, to remain with the ship and crew. I selected a team of five to join me for the first expedition of Cerulean Isle. We set out in two rowboats, three men in each. Waylin, Bart, and I took the oars in one, while Owen followed with two mates, Hammock and Konopo.
Hammock, a heavy man, was not one for climbing rigging or running about the deck. His shaggy hair was the color of mud. His uncanny strength made him an invaluable member of the crew despite his laziness. His arms were massive; no one onboard the sloop could best him in games of might. He arm wrestled for money when in port and he was often the first choice for protection. That is what earned him a seat in the rowboat. He worked the oars with ease and precision.
Konopo was a tribal seafarer. His name meant ‘rain.’ The islanders of the Caribbean valued rainfall and thought it a great blessing. He was one of the few remaining Carib tribesman and knew the ways of many natives that still dwelled in the ungoverned lands. Waylin had rescued him from slavery and offered him a job aboard the sloop, valuing his combat skill and knowledge of the old native customs.
Soft-spoken Konopo never wore anything more than pigskin drapery around his waist. His skin was like black leather and his head bald, save for a long black braid that sprouted from the back of this head. He kept a dagger tied to his right calf.
We rowed steadily toward the glowing, blue island, carefully maneuvering around the foreboding stones. Owen rambled on about his dislike for Waylin while Waylin ignored him.
As we drifted closer to Cerulean Isle, I noticed a small cove void of vegetation. Only the dazzling blue rock and pearly sand embraced us. Our boats crunched over the sparkling shore and came to a halt. We climbed out and stepped into powdery sand. I knelt down and scooped up a handful. The granules were bits of the reflective silver rock mixed with pristine white sand. Where the powder touched my fingers, the skin shimmered in the sunlight. All around us loomed sharp and towering slabs of crystalline rock. Some of the stone figures were so smooth that I saw my reflection staring back at me as if trapped in a strange world.
We pulled the boats away from the water. I looked back over the waves and saw the wrecked sloop in the distance.
Destiny’s
entire front had crumbled beyond repair. The sloop would never sail again.
“Don’t linger, Jacob,” said Waylin. “Dwelling over our misfortune will not better the situation.”
We walked away from the shore and toward the dense wild of the island, a forest of stone. Giant shards of blue and silver stretched from the ground and twisted to create arching passages and ominous caves. A low and resonating howl filled the air as the steady breeze blew through the gaps in the blue rock forest. Brilliant beams of reflected sunlight were colored in many hues of purple, indigo, and soft green. These ethereal rays bounced off the shiny walls and brightened when the clouds moved from the sun. We ventured through the crystal passages, but dared not go in places where there was no light. The scent of the sea remained strong. As we passed the mouths of dark caverns, we could hear water echoing from within.
“Grottos,” said Konopo. He stood close to one of the lightless caves and listened. A cool breeze came from the dark entrance. “These are not normal caves. These are waterways. The sea flows under this island.”
Owen rushed over to the mouth of the grotto and took a step inside.
“Owen, get out of there!” I ordered.
The old pirate looked back at me, then walked into the dark entrance and disappeared. We heard a splash.
Waylin shouted into the grotto, “Owen, can you hear me?”
There was no reply, not even the splashing of Owen treading water or swimming to get out. Only a soft dripping and gentle lapping echoed from the dark.
“Make way. I’m going after him.” I stepped into the dark, feeling the cool water on my toes. I jumped forward into a deep pool of salt water.
Smooth rounded walls of cold stone surrounded me. I let my body sink and fanned my arms over my head to speed my descent through the blackness. As I ventured deeper, the walls around me widened and brightened, signifying light. My feet appeared as black silhouettes against a pale whitish-green light. As the round walls opened away from me, I found myself within a large chamber. Sharp crystals grew from the ceiling, and from another opening streamed a ray of sunlight. The beam of light cut through the water and was absorbed by a multi-sided green crystal. This crystal bent the sunlight and shot it out in all directions, bathing the entire room in a pale emerald glow. My mind struggled to comprehend such a place of beauty. If not for the burning in my eyes and the growing pressure in my lungs, I would have remained in that chamber for hours.
The increasing need for air forced me to think fast. I scanned the emerald room for Owen, and then swam for the center of the chamber and into the beam of white sunlight. I kicked and clawed through the water, rushing for the surface. The sunlight grew brighter as I swam. With a forceful kick, I erupted through the waterline and nearly choked as I drew in the warm air. I floated for a moment, savoring every breath. I rubbed my eyes and surveyed my surrounding. I had come into a circular pool wrapped in the same powdery-white sand. Owen, on his hands and knees, crawled around in the sand.
I swam to the edge of the pool and climbed out of the water onto the hot sand.
“Ah, Master Jacob. My apologies for going ahead of the group.”
“You jumped into an unknown grotto!”
“As did you.”
“I came to help you.”
“But I’m well.”
“We thought you’d drown.”
“Who would have cared if I did, eh?”
“I would have, you old fool.”
“Look what I found.” In his palm he held a smooth red clamshell fashioned from a crimson stone. A thin gold chain was attached to it. A closer inspection revealed an engraving on the other side. Four looping letters formed the word
CORA.
“Where did you find this?”
“There,” he pointed. “It was half in the sand, the chain glinting in the sun. It would be wise to leave it here.”
I held it up to the sun and marveled at the beauty of the shell. “It looks tribal. We should take it to Konopo and see if he can tell us anything about it. Take a deep breath, Owen, it is back through the grotto for us.”
Chapter 35
Something in the Water
When Owen and I emerged, I put on my dry shirt and shoes and summoned the group to gather around and see the shell necklace.
“You say you found this beyond the waterway?” asked Waylin.
“Yes. This grotto descends roughly twenty feet and opens to a crystal cavern filled with green light. In the center of the ceiling is an opening to another waterway that leads up to a small pool and beach.”
I went to Konopo and handed him the crimson shell. “What people would make jewelry like this?”
Konopo handled the necklace delicately, holding it up to the sun and turning it around. He read the inscription, and then he brought it to his nose and sniffed it. His dark fingers caressed the gold links and the curves and ridges of the clamshell. His black eyes met ours and he said, “Woryi…my tongue for your word ‘woman.’ It belongs to woryi. Though it looks like the armor of a clam, it is not.”
“What is it, then?” asked Hammock.
Konopo handed me the necklace. “Tapire topu,” he said in his strange language. “Red stone. Ruby. Many tribes shape jewels into relics or charms. They are often sacred totems. This bears a word I do not know. Cora.”
“No doubt worth a fortune,” guessed Owen, his eyes fixed on the necklace.
I put the gold chain around my neck and tucked its ruby pendant into my shirt. “Let’s get moving. We can examine it more on the ship. There is much ground to cover and we should be very careful about where we wander.” I looked squarely at Owen as I said this. He nodded and the party set out through the mysterious forest of rock.
As we wove our way through the labyrinth of stone passages, I tried to form a mental map so that later I could draw it out. We made deep marks in the ground every few paces, as guides to follow out. We found some large leafy plants and networks of vines growing around the looming stone structures, but no trees.
We heard the babbling of a stream and followed the sound until we came upon a small rushing brook that bubbled up from a cluster of stones. Konopo dipped a finger in the water, tasted it, and nodded. We all knelt by the edge of the stream and drank.
Following the water, we found that it emptied into a large reflective pool. Within it rested six wide chairs, each rounded on the edges and forged from the island’s dominating azure ore. The chairs were partially submerged in the clear water and ornately decorated with shells of various shapes and colors.
Around the edges of the clearing stood beautiful sculptures made from smooth, white clay. There was a sculpture of a cresting white dolphin, a detailed shark, and a graceful sea turtle.
The sky opened above the clearing and reflected off the water to create dancing rays of light that made the surrounding walls of cerulean stone sparkle and shimmer. We walked along the edges of the bottomless pool.
“Master Jacob,” called Hammock in his low and rumbling voice. “Look in the sand. Jewels!”
There were diamonds, gold nuggets, shards of sapphire, bits of emerald, and whole pearls among the broken pieces of the cerulean rock. I sifted the fine sand with my toes and uncovered even more jewels. Konopo stood beside the sculpture of the fearsome shark. He touched the art softly as if it would help him unlock the artist’s secrets of creation.
“This is a courtyard,” said Owen, “and those small pools are the openings to more underwater tunnels. I’m sure of it! Look at the lovely statues and there, in the center pool, the thrones of the Mer that protect this sacred place. We’ve just entered the heart of Cerulean Isle.”