Jasmine pushed aside a stray branch as she and Will made their way through the woods to the coastal towns.
"So how long d'ya reckon we have before they start looking for us?" Will asked.
Jasmine glanced at the sun's position and shrugged. "Normally, I'd say we had another hour or so before she usually starts calling for me, but-"
Will glanced at her in alarm. "But?" he prompted.
Jasmine hung her head. "I think she saw me."
"'oo did?"
"Anastasia," Jasmine fiddled with that seam on her skirt again. "I was trying to be careful, I think she just happened to look my way-"
"Aww, that's bloody perfect," groaned Will. "So what you're saying is, we could be ahead of them by only a few minutes."
Jasmine rolled her eyes at him. "You have to admit, we made good time; look, we're already at the harbor town." She pointed to the furthest-inland buildings of the town just ahead of them.
They passed an inn, a tavern, and a bookshop before Will pointed and cried, "There!"
Just ahead of them swayed the tall masts of ships in the dock. The two friends ran forward.
"How will we know which one hired Allan?" asked Jasmine, looking at all the deckhands to see if she could recognize his face among them.
"You there! Harbormaster," Will addressed a man standing in front of a wide lectern making notes in a large book, "are you the one who keeps record of the crews on every ship that comes in here?"
"Well now," the man replied, "I wouldn't be the Harbormaster if I didn't!"
"Would you be able to tell us the name of the ship our friend joined some years ago?" Will continued.
The man rubbed his nose and began thumbing through the records. "Mm, maybe... How many years are we talking?"
"Three years, five months and twelve days," Jasmine answered immediately.
Both Will and the Harbormaster stared at her briefly, and she blushed.
The Harbormaster kept a wary eye on her as he flipped back to the page for that date. "Ah, here it is; now, what was your friend's name?"
"Allan-a-Dale," said Jasmine, "but most times he just goes by Allan."
"Hmm, Allan... Allan... Here we are! Looks like your friend was the registered cabin boy on the merchant ship Hispañola, but-" the man stopped at a certain bit of information.
Jasmine looked stricken. "But what?" she asked.
"I'm sorry, lass," the Harbormaster said quietly, "that ship was raided on the last voyage, and some of the crew was taken by pirates, along with the cargo. Your friend was among them."
"Pirates!" Jasmine gasped, and burst into tears.
"Aye; Long John Silver it was, if I remember. Those who came back were lucky; t'ain't often that Silver leaves survivors."
Will thanked the man and the two of them went into the tavern to collect themselves.
"I'm sorry, Jazz," Will said quietly.
"I never gave up hope, you know," Jasmine murmured softly. "I always thought I would see him again sometime, like I could come out here when I heard that the ship was in port. Oh Will!" she grasped his hands as the tears sprang up again. "Do you think Long John Silver would have taken him only to kill him?"
"Silver, y'say?"
A creaky voice behind Jasmine entered the conversation. She turned slowly as a head of greasy grey hair and a great, hooked nose bent around the back of the chair. A stooped old man in a dirty overcoat hobbled to the side of their table.
"Who might you be?" Will demanded as the stranger groped for a chair to settle in.
"Name's Pew," the man barked, "and if these old ears are not mistaken, you and the lady were discussin' the business of one Cap'n Long John Silver."
"Yeah?" Will glanced at Jasmine to caution her to remain silent. "What if we were, what's it to you?"
Pew grinned, proudly displaying a mouth full of gold knobs and blackened teeth. "It happens that I was aboard Silver's ship not long ago; I might be able to tell ye if yer mate w's still kickin'... Fer a price, 'at is."
Jasmine and Will shared a glance. Reluctantly, Jasmine pulled out her purse and laid two gold coins—a little less than half of all the wealth they had—on the table. The man's dirty nails scrabbled the soiled table as he picked them up. "Two coins, two questions," he said.
"Were you aboard when Silver raided the Hispañola?" Jasmine asked.
Pew cackled. "The Hispañola?" he roared. "O' course I was! 'Twas on account of my greedy looks that Silver ordered the puttin' out of me eyes!" He pulled back his hair to reveal the twin pits just below the brim of his hat.
"The person I'm looking for was the cabin boy on that ship," Jasmine said.
Pew's eyeless face tilted away from her as he cocked an ear in her direction. "Cabin boy, eh? Young'un, was he?"
Jasmine caught her breath. "Yes! Oh, his name was Allan, did you see him?"
Pew let out another cackle, "See 'im? Not with these, wench!" he gestured to his eyes. "But ol' Pew has ears of a fox; I did hear a shorter step than others, and Silver did give the command to keep the boy alive."
"Where was he headed after that?" Will demanded, but Pew raised a crooked finger.
"That's more questions than you paid for, lad! But I'll give you this one for free because you'll never get there anyway. As they were preparin' to leave me behind with the rest o' th' Hispañola's crew, I heard Silver tell the helmsman to set course for Treasure Island." Pew stood unsteadily to his feet. "Lots o' dangerous traps out there; that's why he needed a boy, y'see. Somebody light and small to get through the spaces and guide the pirates to the treasure!" He cackled. "So, me hearties, yer mate Allan might be alive, but there's no tellin' whether you'll get him back!"
A few days earlier...
A small, limber boy climbed out of a small tunnel dug into the side of a cliff. He stepped onto the narrow ledge below him and scanned the area. His keen eyes soon spotted something out-of-place on the tropical island: a vine that stretched upward instead of hanging down. The young man swung his machete and severed the vine, releasing-after a torrent of stones-a bridge that stretched over the river he had just forded to get to where he was now.
A band of large, burly pirates crossed the bridge. One of them had two others support him, since his right leg ended in a rough wooden stump. He wore a black kerchief, a gold ring in his ear, and a red jacket stolen from an admiral he'd killed on one of his raids. His chin, covered in grimy black stubble, set firmly under his mouth, and his eyes glinted keenly. Him it was whom the legends spun tales, who the sailors' wives whispered about: the dread pirate Long John Silver.
"Oy, lad!" the rough pirate captain shouted. "D'ye see the landmark?"
"Aye, Cap'n!" the boy shouted back, "there's Bull Rock, due east on the horizon!"
"This is it, boys!" Long John set foot-and-stump on firm land and accepted his crutch from one of the pirates. He hauled his crippled body forward, spurred on by hope of untold riches. "We've made it to the trove of Treasure Island!"
He hobbled his way down the slope along the cliff, knowing that not one of his men dare reach the treasure before he did. The young man led him down through the trees and into a shaded hollow. He pointed to where a tree with large amounts of exposed roots stood over a small opening.
"The treasure should be through there, sir," he said. He gestured, but did not go in himself.
Silver eyed him grumpily. "Well, lad?" he demanded, sizing the hole and knowing the difficulty it presented for a man of his girth. "What are ye waiting for? Go in and bring me out the treasure!"
The boy looked at him. "You're letting me out of your sight?" he asked.
Silver laughed and drew his pistol, aiming it at the boy. "If I suspect any kind of foul play, 'tis a bullet will follow you in there, not I!" he waved toward the hole again.
The boy quickly scrambled through the opening. Minutes later, he emerged, struggling to heft an oaken chest.
"Sweet angels above!" Silver gasped. "Somebody help that chest into the open!"
Two pirates came forward and easily yanked the box out of the boy's hands. The wooden crate fell with a crash, and the lid flew open.
It was empty.
"Devils and damnation!" Silver screamed, and pointed his pistol at the boy again. "What is the meaning of this?"
The boy threw his hands in front of his face. "I did not steal it, I swear on my mother! All of the chests are empty, Cap'n; someone else got here before us."
"Blast you, hellspawn!" in a rage, Silver turned and fired at a bird just winging past. It dropped into the ravine. "We come all this way to Treasure Island, by heaven, I will have my treasure!" His pistol lowered to fix on the boy. "I suppose we won't be needing you any more!" He drew back the hammer and readied the shot.
"No, wait!" the boy cried. "I know a place where you can get your hands on plenty of treasure!"
"And what are the chances it, too, will be emptied by another when we get there?" Silver didn't budge.
"None at all!" the boy replied. "A friend of mine serves in a very rich house that is positively stuffed with gold and jewels worthy of the king himself. You will want for nothing, and you will have all the gold you can carry!"
Silver finally relaxed his grip and raised the pistol. "And you can get us inside?"
The boy gulped and nodded. "Yes, just bring me back to the port where you raided the Hispañola three years ago, and I will lead you to the house."
"What if your friend isn't there any more, or what if your friend doesn't care enough to let you inside?"
The boy sighed. "She will; if I guess right, she still thinks of me often, even if she might think I'm dead by now. She doesn't give up hope easy."
Long John Silver pocketed his pistol and laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "What's your name, boy?" he asked.
"Allan, Cap'n Silver, sir," the boy answered.
"Well then," Silver gave him a rough shove back the way they had come. "Lead us to our treasure, Allan!"
Present Day...
Jasmine and Will stepped out of the tavern. The sun was beginning to set. Will hesitated, scuffing the ground with his boot.
"Well, Jazz," he said soberly, "what are we going to do?"
Jasmine pressed her lips. "We can't go back, not with Drizella and Anastasia looking for us; there's only one option, Will." She looked up at him with a determined light in her eye. "We need to find a ship that will take us to Treasure Island." The young woman took off for the docks again.
Will jogged after her. "Wait, Jazz! We don't even know where that is! Do you seriously think we can get passage to a place no one knows how to get to?"
"Shh!" Suddenly, Jasmine yanked Will down beside her as she crouched behind a stack of crates.
"What the bloody hell was that?" he spluttered, yanking his arm away.
Jasmine gestured to the slips where the boats stood moored. "It's the Black Pearl!" she hissed at him.
"So?" Will adjusted his jacket moodily.
"Will, that's Long John Silver's ship!"
The young man blinked, tilting his head in interest. "Hallo, that's very fortunate!" Stealthily, he peeked around the crate for a better look.
At that moment, the pirates were disembarking. There was Silver, with his crutch and his peg leg... and he was pointing a pistol at a young man!
"Jazz!" Will whispered. "Is that Allan?" He shifted so she could get a better look.
Jasmine's face broke out in a grin. "Allan!" she breathed. "Where are they taking him?"
"Looks like they're headed out of the city," Will observed, as Silver, Allan, and the whole crew of a dozen pirates disappeared down the main road.
"Will," Jasmine gripped her friend's wrist. "We have to follow them!"
Will nodded. "Let's go, then."
Together, they snuck off after the pirates.