The Wicked Passage (A Blake Wyatt Adventure) (20 page)

Blake gulped.

“I need to get you back to the admiral’s ship. Unfortunately, the chronicle’s dying. She will be of little help, but remember her words, ‘
A
secret evil walks her deck and destiny almost dies.’”

Blake’s eyes widened. “How do you know about that?”

“It was written in her pages long ago. Unless you fulfill your promise, the great book will remain a burial mound of the past, powerless to complete the future. With the protective membrane gone, nothing will be able to stop dark energy from invading our planet. Dagonblud will win.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “How do I get back?”

“With a tempus.”

“You mean that watch thingie?”

Nura nodded.
“A Tolucan timepiece.
Dagonblud used the first one to rip through the membrane and bedevil our world long ago.”

Blake lost his balance after squatting for several minutes and fell against the pedestal.

“Shhh. Ickbarr’s feeble, but he hears like a deer in the woods.”

“Sorry,” he whispered.

Nura watched Ickbarr for a few moments. “Wait here.” She flew into the shadows and quickly returned with a scuffed-up silver pocket watch.

Blake took it from her talons.

“Your uncle risked his life to get this tempus to me.”

Blake examined the watch. “How do you use this thing?”

“Open the cover.”

He pried the small latch with his thumbnail until it popped open.

“Do you see the three squares behind the clock hands?”

“Yeah.”

“What do they show?”

“The first box says seventeen seventy-six. The second says July, and the third has the number four.”

“Oh, dear.
That was the tempus your father used when Rat captured him.”

Blake’s stomach tightened. “Rat killed my dad?”

She shook her head.

“Nura!”
Dagonblud’s voice echoed in the distance. “I know you’re here somewhere!”

“Listen carefully, Blake. To reset the tempus, you must first pull out the large plunger on the bottom.”

“Should I do that now?”

“Yes. Time will find you here.”

“I can smell you!” Dagonblud’s voice sang closer.

“Set the date to October twelve, fourteen ninety-two.”

“How do I do that?”

“Roll the knob by each box.”

Blake turned the small metal nubs. “What am I supposed to do when I get there? I didn’t have anything to do with Columbus discovering America.”

Nura stared at him. “How do you know that?”

“There you are!” Dagonblud’s voice boomed as he burst into the room.

Nura took off.

“Wait!” Blake bolted after her. “You didn’t finish telling me--”

A horrible squeal echoed through the hall. Blake stopped in his tracks.

“Got her!”
Ickbarr called out. He emerged with Nura firmly in his clutch. “Are you going to punish her again, sir?”

“You touch her and--”

“You’ll what?” Dagonblud yanked Nura from Ickbarr and then displayed her upside-down.

She struggled, beating her wings against his coat.

“I can turn her into soup if I so choose.”

“Let her go!” Blake lunged forward.

“Sir!
He has a tempus!”

“Don’t come any closer.” Nura flapped furiously.
“The large knob!”

“I can’t leave you!”

“It’s our only chance!”

Blake could do nothing to help her. He had to go back to finish what he had started. He pushed in the plunger. Click. The room vanished.

CHAPTER 22

THE LAST CHAMPIONS

Erica pressed her cheek against the base of the huge, wet mast and squeezed tightly. Water dripped on her head from the deck above as the ocean leaked through gaps in the hull’s wood planks. She turned when she heard a splash near the ladder.

“Bravo! Splendid job! Diego never suspected a thing.” Uncle Leopold sloshed toward her holding up a ring of keys.
“Quite the storm out there.”

“Did you get Mr. Columbus out of those chains?”

“Not yet. I require your assistance.”

“Oh.” Erica closed her eyes, trying to stop her head from spinning. “I don’t feel so good.”

“Heavens, Erica, this is no time for seasickness.” He wiped her forehead with a damp, stinky handkerchief.
“Try letting go of the mast.”

She released her grip and shook out her arms. The membrane rock, tucked in her hand, flashed light through the cargo bay. “I want to go home.”

“We don’t have that option, my dear. Unfortunately, we can’t stay here, either. Wouldn’t you agree?”

She nodded slowly.

“Most things worth doing are not easy.” Leopold wiped his face with the gross hanky. “Now let’s go free the admiral.”

Erica tucked a bunch of her hair behind her ear. “Maybe I can sneak up there when no one’s looking,” she suggested as she clutched her stomach.

“That’s the spirit. You’re small. Perhaps they won’t notice you. I’m going to head directly to the admiral’s cabin. When you release him, take him there as quickly as you can.”

She waited for a wave of nausea to pass. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“You have to. Blake’s counting on you.” Leopold slogged past her and then climbed out the hatch opening.

Erica took a deep breath, shoved the rock in her pocket, and followed.

Leopold reached down. “Give me your hand.”

She grabbed it.

He pulled her onto the deck as he looked around at the crew. “We have a brief opportunity to see this plan through. Rat’s still under the quarterdeck with Diego. Let’s make this fast.”

“Okay.” She focused on Columbus. He looked really bad. “Tell me again what I’m supposed to do.” She swallowed back puke rising in her throat.

“Take these keys and unlock the admiral’s chains. I’ll secure the cabin.” Leopold whisked across the deck.

“Wait! Which one is it?” Uncle Leopold didn’t hear her over the furor of the storm. She looked at the key ring briefly before scampering to Columbus. He was a mess, crumpled, soaking wet, and unmoving. Was he dead? “Mr. Columbus?”

He didn’t answer.

She shook him.
“Admiral?”

Columbus slowly opened his sunken eyes. “My child, you must have been sent by--”

“Shhh, we have to hurry.” She tried several keys in the ankle shackles before one worked.

“Please, my hands.”

Erica tugged at the thick knot, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” a big guy shouted as he charged at them.

“Just saving history, kind sir.”
Uncle Leopold suddenly appeared. “I forgot about the knot,” he whispered, easily freeing the tangled rope.

“Stowaways!”

“Yes, yes, yes, stowaways, that’s what we are, just stowaways, nothing more,” said Uncle Leopold. “Please, just continue with your duties.”

“Diego!” the guy yelled.

Uncle Leopold slung Columbus’s arm over his shoulder, supporting him as they hobbled toward his cabin.
“Quickly, Admiral.”

Erica followed, pushing Columbus up the steps while Uncle Leopold pulled him from above. She scurried to the top, turned around, and then looked down. Rat stared at her. The guy that had the keys was making his way up the steps.

“Hurry, my dear!”
Uncle Leopold hustled Columbus into the cabin.

Erica backed away, ducking to avoid a hurled fish, before squeezing into the room. “Someone’s coming.”

Uncle Leopold jammed the bed against the door. “This may stop the crew, but we’ll need more than furniture to keep Rat out.”

Knock, knock,
knock
. “It’s Diego, sir,” he called through the door. “Maybe I can reason with the other officers. They’re Christian men. Surely they’ll understand mercy.”

“Careful, Admiral.
It could be a trap.” Uncle Leopold slid the table next to the bed.

Columbus coughed and limped to the door. “If you have any respect for yourself . . . and this great
enterprise.
. . allow me some time.”

“I’ll try, sir.” After a short silence Diego said, “I still believe in you, Admiral.”

Columbus lumbered to the chair and plopped down. “These men have no quarrels with me. They’re frightened by what they do not know.”

Uncle Leopold eyed the admiral’s filthy, wet clothes as he opened the trunk. He offered Columbus a clean shirt and pants.

“Yes, of course.” Taking the garments, he motioned to Erica to face the other direction.

“Sorry.” She blushed and turned to the wall.

“An admiral should greet the Orient with dignity and grace,” Columbus said.

Erica could hear him changing his tattered clothes. The soggy laundry landed in a pile near her feet.

“I thank you, young lady.”

Erica waited a few extra seconds before turning around.
 

Columbus finished fastening his shirt as he looked at the chest on the table. “I hope my map was not taken when my logbook was stolen.” He flipped open the lid, sighed, and pulled out the document. “Possibly with this proof that we are near the end of our westward journey, my men will understand.”

Uncle Leopold glanced at the yellowed paper flattened on the table. “This map never made it into the history books, Admiral.”

“Fame is not my concern. My wish is to spread the Lord’s word.”

“Frankly, most historians believe you crashed into the North American continent purely by accident, without the aid of a map.”

Columbus raised his brow.
“American.
That word remains quite foreign to me.”

“With all due respect, sir, the discovery of the New World was attributed to your search for a better trade route to the Orient solely as a means for you to obtain great wealth and power.”

“Dear God.” Columbus’s eyes widened as he rubbed his chin. “I am judged without all the evidence. This map was given to me to unite God’s people. If fortune follows, then let that be His will.”

Screech! The bed and table skidded across the floor as the door flung open, grazing Columbus and knocking Erica and Uncle Leopold to the floor. A cold torrent of wind rushed through the cabin.

“How convenient,” Rat growled from the doorway. “You can all die together.”