The Wicked Passage (A Blake Wyatt Adventure) (24 page)

Columbus’s crew circulated about the deck, engrossed in their chores as if nothing had happened.

“Can I let go of you now?” Erica asked meekly.

“What?
Oh, yeah.”

“Blakemore,” his father whispered, still holding his daughter’s hand. “I’m proud of you. The black diamond is sealed. Dagonblud’s dark energy is safely contained.” He coughed and dropped her hand.
“For now.”

Erica sank to the deck and whimpered, “You’ll get better, Daddy.”

Diego and some of the crew started to gather around Erica and her father. “This sailor’s badly injured,” the pudgy man said. “Bring cotton cloths and honey for the wounds.”

Michael Wyatt looked up at his son. “Promise me you’ll get these men to the New World. You’re the Rellium’s last hope.” He slumped over.

Blake dropped to one knee.
“Dad!”

“Do something!” Erica cried.

“I don’t know what--”

Nura let out a ghastly screech.

Blake turned and jumped up.

Her wings stopped flapping, and her head fell.

Dagonblud whipped the lifeless creature across the deck.

“Sorcerer!”
Pero pointed a musket at Dagonblud’s back.

The Tolucan pivoted and glared at Columbus’s pilot. The barrel of his gun slowly melted, leaving only the wooden stock.

Pero dropped the weapon and fled.

The crew stepped back.

Dagonblud turned to Blake and snatched the diamond. “And as for you, hero-boy, Parana pine--starting with your mouth so I don’t have to listen to--”

“Shut up already! You’re such a royal loser! You couldn’t get my father’s power, and you can’t get mine, either.”

Dagonblud raised the black diamond above his head. “Smell this cursed air for the last time. Your destiny is now!” he bellowed.

A gigantic wave crashed over the side of the ship, interrupting the Tolucan’s rant, washing the two of them across the deck.

Blake scrambled to regain his footing. “And destiny almost dies,” he muttered. The chronicle had said a secret evil walks her decks, and destiny almost dies. Her words echoed in his head: the ancient mariner with a dream to catch succeeds because of determination.

Blake darted to his sister. “Determination, Ricki! That’s what the Parabulls are trying to teach us.”

Erica placed her hand on her father’s shoulder, sobbing.

“Come on, Rick, stay strong--for Dad!”

Blake watched Dagonblud struggle to his knees on the shifting, slippery deck. He snapped around when he heard Columbus’s cabin door creak open.

The admiral moved to the rail of his quarterdeck, dressed in a navy-blue jacket, cream-colored shirt, dark knee-length pants, and white stockings, just like in the history books. He eyed his crew glued to the sides of the ship, and Erica slumped over her father. Columbus turned his gaze to Dagonblud and seethed, “What evil walks my deck?”

The Tolucan stood, clenching the black diamond, brushed back his tousled hair and then glared at the explorer. He said nothing.

“Answer me, devil!” Columbus demanded, dauntlessly grabbing the rail in front of him.

Dagonblud responded with a ball of fire from his outstretched hand that zipped past Columbus’s shoulder.

The admiral dropped to a crouch.

Crap! How could he divert the Tolucan’s attention from Columbus?
“Hey, Dragonbreath!
You want my power? Then come and get it!” Blake raced up the rope ladder.

Fireballs whizzed past him. Glancing down, he watched Dagonblud launch more of the blazing projectiles. A near miss singed his hair. Another grazed his arm.

Blake clambered higher, dodging the fiery barrage--the smell of burning rope poisoning the air. Suddenly, the ladder snapped beneath him.

“Ahh!”
He grabbed the braided hemp line tighter, feet dangling, as he swung and then slammed into the mast.
“Dang it!”
Glancing down at the burning, trailing rope, he pulled harder, straining to hoist his weight. The crow’s nest within reach, he scaled the last rungs and hurled himself inside.

Smoke rose from the platform. Blake grabbled for the rim, wedging himself upright before his perch ignited. Flames seared his feet, and he leaped and clung to the mast. He pulled himself higher on the swaying pole. Spiking flares chased him to the top. Heat scorched his legs.

Now what? He couldn’t go back down. The rope was gone, and the mast was burning. Should he jump? No way could he clear the deck. Pressing his face against the topsail pole, he closed his eyes, defeated. I’m sorry, Dad.

Seconds passed that felt like hours.
 

A cannon
fired in the distance.

Blake opened his eyes and looked in the direction of the sound. A white plume billowed from the farthest ship. What was going on? Fierce heat wasn’t frying his legs anymore. He looked down. The fire was gone.

Dagonblud pointed up to him. His eyes turned bright red followed by the rest of his body. “Wyatts be damned!
 
You’ll curse the day we meet again!” He imploded, and was gone.

“Woo-hoo!”

Diego raised a spyglass and shouted, “Pinta sees land!”

The crew cheered wildly.

Blake looked at the horizon. “Whoa! I can see it, too!”

He watched the lead ship lower her sails as he slid into the smoking crow’s nest. Peering over the edge for his sister, he noticed the rope ladder, untouched.
“Ricki!”

“Blake!” Erica jumped excitedly, waving her arms.

“I see land, Rick!” He scrambled partway down the rope ladder, stopping to take another glimpse at history. “Whoa!”

Cinnamon red and butter-yellow stripes streamed across the lavender sky. Inhaling the fresh air, he gazed at the open sea. Glistening waves rolled gently, waltzing beneath the low-hanging sun. Blake climbed down and jumped to the deck.

Erica raced over and hugged him. “You’re okay!”

A scrawny boy, spyglass tucked in his dirty shirt, flew past him, up the ladder and then into the crow’s nest.
“Tierra!
Tierra!” he yelled.

More cheers erupted from the ecstatic crew.

“Blake, I was holding Dad’s hand when that cannon went off, and then he disappeared. I don’t know what happened,” Erica rambled. “I can’t find Nura, either.”

“Don’t worry, Rick. I can still feel him.”
 
Blake hugged her tighter. A hard edge from something in his pocket dug into his thigh--the moon rock. He stepped back, wriggled it out and then stared at it.
“Determination.”

Columbus walked toward them, his steps steady and his voice sure. “You saved me again, Blake. Thank you. You never gave up.”

“No, Mr. Columbus--you never gave up.” Blake beamed as he rolled the rock in his hand. “Hey, uh, I wanna give you something. I mean, this discovering America thing--it’s kind of a big deal. You really should have this.” He handed Columbus the lunar rock. “This came from Neil Armstrong. He was an explorer, like you. He brought this back from the moon.”

“The moon?”
Columbus looked puzzled.

“Yeah, other guys went there, too, but I think he got there first.”

“Well, Blake, this imagination of yours is certainly--colorful.”

“I know you don’t totally believe me. That’s okay. You’re not supposed to understand stuff like that anyway. I mean, you do live in fourteen ninety-two.”

Columbus studied the rock briefly. “I’ll treasure this.” He tucked it in his pocket, glanced at the sky, and then walked away.

“How are we going to get home?” Erica asked through panicked eyes. “Dagonblud took the tempus.”

“I got here without that thing,” Blake offered. “Maybe we can leave without it. Wait here.” He brushed past her, weaved through the crew, and then vaulted up the steps to Columbus’s cabin. He went inside. The chronicle glowed brilliantly on the bed.

“Book?!
How’d you get here?!”

“We owe a great debt to your uncle.”

Blake flipped it open and fanned the pages--intact, as if they were never damaged.

A small note popped out and floated gently to the plank floor. He reached down to pick it up and noticed the Sign of the Ages on the palm of his cut, rope-burned hand. He read the note.

Always remember the balance, Blake. The past feeds the present and grows the future. The delicate stories of history are in your hands. Honor them and protect her valuable lessons. --Uncle Leopold.

He gulped back the lump in his throat, tucked the chronicle under his arm, and shot out of the cabin.

“Erica!” Blake joined his sister.
“The Chronicle of the Rellium.
She’s back to normal.” He held up the pristine book.

“Wow. It’s so beautiful!”

“And I’m gonna keep her that way.”

“Nura must’ve fixed it.”

“We all did. We got history back on track.” Blake ran his hand over the jewels. “Maybe the chronicle can help us find Dad.” He turned and marveled at the admiral marching among his crew, shouting orders and occasionally pausing to look at the sliver of land. The explorer made his way closer and stopped next to them, hands on his hips, obviously elated.

“Good luck with this whole New World thing, Mr. Columbus. You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

The admiral didn’t acknowledge him and continued to bark orders.

“Mr. Columbus?” Blake asked loudly.

“It’s like he can’t hear you or something,” Erica said.

Blake tugged on the admiral’s sleeve.
Still no response.

“It’s like we’re invisible,” she added.

“Columbus doesn’t need our help anymore.” Blake balled his hand in victory. “Yes! We must have fixed the Rellium’s membrane.”

“But we’re still stuck here.”

“Not for long,” Blake said. He paused to inhale the sugary air. “The Parabulls . . . They’re here!”

“How do you know that?”

“Can’t you smell the sapphire grass? That’s where they live.”

“They’re the source of our power, Blake.”

“They are?”

“Yeah, that’s what Dagonblud was trying to get out of us.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did! I told you that Uncle Leopold said the Parabulls are the source of all this magic stuff. Good thing you never listen to me.”

“It’s not magic.” Blake grabbed his sister’s hand and followed the scent up the steps to Columbus’s cabin. The sweet smell intensified. He peeked in the doorway. Fields of waving sapphire grass spread out before them. “Come on, Ricki, we’re going home.”