Chapter 6
The Truth is Revealed
A full five seconds after being hurled from the edge, Clay hit the water below with a resounding splash. During his descent, he had been spiraling wildly out of control, trying to stop himself from hitting the water in a belly flop and severely injuring himself in the process. At the last second, he managed to right himself and plunge into the sea feet first. Momentum carried him a good fifteen feet below the waves before he was able to struggle back to the surface. Wiping the seawater from his stinging eyes, he quickly scanned the water for Wooly. He spotted him striking out for one of the sloops anchored at the base of the island. Trying not to think of the possibility of sharks lurking beneath the dark waters, Clay began swimming for the same ship as fast as he could.
When he reached the ladder, he clambered up to find that Wooly had already raised the anchor and was using the harpoons to rotate the ship. "Get ready to unfurl the sails once our prow is pointed away from the island," Wooly commanded the boy. Clay jumped to comply, standing ready beside the ropes to control the sail length. With a jerk of the harpoon, Wooly sent the ship whipping around for a full one hundred eighty degrees until the prow pointed south. "Sails down!" cried Wooly. Clay undid the ropes, and the black and red sails billowed out to their greatest extent in the stiff breeze, sending the sloop rushing away from the island.
As Wooly took control of the wheel, there was a sharp whistle, and several splinters of wood showered from the railing to his left. "They're shooting! Get to the hold!" he bellowed. Both he and Clay scrambled down the stairs just as another shot splintered a spot on the mast just above their heads. After cowering among the barrels below for a minute, both man and boy cautiously crept up to the lower deck and peered into the darkness behind them. The island's dark silhouette was rapidly growing smaller behind them, but as they watched, a few smaller shadows detached themselves from it.
Snatching up a spyglass from the captain's table, Wooly peered through the device at the new shadows. "I was afraid of that," he muttered. "They're in hot pursuit. We've got a head start, but we can't stay ahead of them forever."
"Could we fight them off?" Clay wanted to know.
Wooly shook his head firmly. "It's multiple boats against one, and they're undoubtedly armed with that sleep-inducing incense. We'd be snuffed out like two candles in a heartbeat."
The man began scanning the map table for a possible escape route. "Let's see… The next largest island is Thieves' Haven. I think I know how we can give them the slip there. As long as the wind keeps blowing in our favor, we should be able to beat them there."
Fifteen tense minutes later, Thieves' Haven loomed black and brooding ahead of them. Wooly adjusted the sail's angle one last time before leaning over to whisper in Clay's ear, as though the occultist behind them could overhear their conversation. "Here's the plan. I'm going to sail around the southern tip of the island. Once the land fully blocks their view of us, I'll tie the wheel in place to keep the ship sailing northeast. We'll both jump off and hide on the island. I fully suspect that our hunters will follow the empty ship for quite a while before they can catch up and realize they've been conned. Meanwhile, we can find a cave or some other shelter to hide in while we make further plans."
"Will we have enough food?" Clay worried.
"Stuff your pockets with as much food as you can get from the hold," Wooly replied. "Once we find a place to hide, we can craft fishing poles from branches if we need to catch fish."
After curving around the south end of the island, Wooly used a coil of rope to tie the wheel in place, and both he and Clay abandoned the ship to sail merrily away beneath the starry sky. After clambering onto the beach, Clay and Wooly hugged the rocks on the shore and peered around the eastern end of the island to see what would happen. Just as they had hoped, the pursuing ships spotted the deserted sloop and began chasing it northeast.
Wooly gave a satisfied chuckle and patted Clay on the back. "We've done it, my boy. We've pulled off the escape of the century! Those fools won't be able to catch that boat until Fetcher's Rest at least!"
"To be honest, I didn't expect things to go this well at all. If it weren't for your distraction with the fireworks, I would have been dead," Clay admitted, shivering at the memory.
Wooly gave him a comforting squeeze. "Well, that's all over. Now, let's find some shelter for the night." They clambered back the way they came until they reached the southern arch of the island.
Thieves' Haven was an interesting shape for an island. It was composed of three natural sea arches with flat tops that joined to create a large plateau at their peaks. This left an enormous, open hollow at the center in which even a galleon could be easily moored. The shores of the open space were littered with the remains of shipwrecked boats, loading wharves, and even pulley systems that stretched to platforms on the island's upper rim. This island had been used as an unofficial shipping hub for the southern region of the sea centuries before, but once more outposts had been built, it had been abandoned. Now the island was inhabited only by pigs and chickens which could be found wandering along the top plateau.
Wooly led Clay to the one large shipwreck lying on the inner shores of the island and pointed to a lopsided mast. The ladder was still intact, and someone could easily climb it to reach the top of the island.
"We'll camp up there for the night," Wooly decided. "We can take turns standing watch, and we can cook some pork and chicken for sausage tomorrow morning." The rotund pirate licked his lips at the tasty prospect. "Watch your footing, my boy. If you fall, you'll land on the boards of the shipwreck, and that won't be a soft landing, I'm sure."
Once they had ascended to the top of the mast, it was a quick climb up two more short ladders before they stood on soft, green grass. A spring bubbled merrily into a small pool nearby to create a small cascade. The crickets chirped serenely from the trees and bushes, and even the occasional cluck of a hen or grunt of a pig could be heard. The soft breeze sent the leaves of the surrounding trees rustling in a musical shiver.
Wooly decided they should camp next to the spring so they could have ample access to fresh water. Since they didn't have any supplies, Clay climbed the nearest palm tree and pulled down a few fronds to use as bedding while Wooly gathered enough dry twigs to start a fire. He reached into his boot and pulled out a flint and steel wrapped in an oilskin. "In case of emergency," he explained with a wink. He struck the flint a few times until a warm fire was crackling merrily before them, chasing away the surrounding shadows.
Wooly leaned back against a rock. "I'd play a nice shanty if I had my hurdy-gurdy," he sighed. "But last I saw it was on my ship, and as far as I know, it lies at the bottom of the sea now."
Clay hesitated a moment before asking the man a question that had been nagging at him since they had escaped from the Glorious Sea Dog's Tavern. "Wooly, why do you call yourself Wooly? I mean, your hair isn't particularly…"
Wooly chuckled. "It isn't now, but a few years ago, I had a flowing mane of the stuff and felt quite proud of it. But one day, I had an unfortunate incident." Even in the dim firelight, Clay could see his face flush with embarrassment. "I was working a galleon with another friend of mine, and I had climbed up the ratlines to untangle a bad knot in the rigging. I was so focused on fixing the snarl in the ropes that I didn't notice my hair getting caught in a pulley next to my head." He cringed at the memory. "When I realized I was stuck, a couple of kind souls came up and used their daggers to cut me loose, but most of them just stood on the deck below and laughed long and loud. Since that day, I've always kept these luscious locks cut short."
Clay couldn't help but grin slightly in the darkness. "Well, I think you look just fine."
"Well, that's kind of you to say so, but often I've wondered if I should go back to the old way. Then again, a stag's horns may look all impressive, but they're quite likely to get tangled in the undergrowth."
Wooly yawned, stretched, and got back to his feet. "I'll take the first watch and wake you up in a few hours to swap." He pulled a pistol out of his pocket. "Borrowed this from our friend the jailer," he chuckled. As Wooly disappeared into the surrounding gloom, Clay tried to make himself comfortable on his bed of leaves. So many thoughts were swirling around in his mind that dozing off seemed impossible. He was painfully aware that time was ticking for finding a cure for his ashen curse. The detour to the dungeons of the Crimson Crypt had thrown cold water on his hopes of finding a solution soon.
He was glad that Wooly seemed ready to help him, despite this curse, but there was one tiny doubt that still whispered in his mind's ear. Was Wooly really being friendly, or had he overheard Riley's boast about making a fortune from Clay's skull and decided that it was too good an opportunity to pass up? He could simply be waiting to take Clay captive himself. The boy tried shoving these needles of worry out of his thoughts, but they always returned slightly stronger than before.
Just as he was about to fall into a fitful slumber, there was a yell from further down the path. Electrified into action, Clay leaped to his feet, grabbed a burning stick from the campfire to use as a torch, and rushed down the dirt trail, heart pounding. Not more than five hundred feet down the trace, he found Wooly in fierce combat with a dark figure. He had tried to whip out his pistol, but the stranger must have wrenched it from him and thrown it out of reach, for the weapon lay several feet behind them.
Just as it looked like Wooly was getting the upper hand, the assailant suddenly made a quick dodge to the left, struck out with their right foot, and knocked Wooly's feet out from under him, sending him tumbling into the dirt on his back with a grunt. Before Clay's friend could recover, the stranger pounced on top of him, pinning him to the ground. He reached into his belt, whipped out a pistol, and pressed the cold barrel up against Wooly's forehead.
"If either of you move," he snarled, speaking also to Clay without even looking in his direction, "I'll send a piece of lead right through your skulls faster than you can blink."
Meanwhile, back at Ancient Spire Outpost, Chester and Tasha Ambrose had been reduced to tears. They had woken up that morning to find their son's bed empty. They were not terribly alarmed at first, assuming he had gone down to the docks again to fish. But by the time eleven o'clock came, they went into the village to look for him. He wasn't on the dock, browsing the shops, or even going for a swim. Their worry rising, both parents began asking everyone, from Senior Trader Mildred of the Merchant Alliance to Tim who worked the equipment shop, if they had seen their son. Everyone had admitted no, and many offered to help search. Chester even took the Golden Pondie to stop any passing ships and ask if anyone had seen the boy. By the time the sun sank halfway below the horizon, the Ambrose parents' worry had festered into downright alarm and terror. What had happened to Clay? He seemed to have simply vanished into thin air.
"What are we going to do, Ambrose?" sobbed Tasha, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. "We don't know where to look or how long he's truly been gone."
Chester gave her a reassuring hug around her shoulder. "Don't fret, my dear," he murmured. "Clay is a smart lad. I'm sure he's fine. We won't be able to make a good search when it's dark, though. All we can do now is pray and wait until morning."
At that moment, a soft, nearly inaudible knock was heard at the front door. Their hopes rising, both parents flung it wide, daring to believe it was their missing son. Instead, there stood Madame Olwen, her dark clothes nearly making her invisible against the gloom of dusk.
"So sorry to have disturbed you," she apologized with a slight bow, "but I think I have vital information on… the whereabouts of your son."
"We questioned you this afternoon! Why didn't you speak up?" demanded Chester furiously, his brows descending like thunderclouds.
"Your son spoke to me yesterday afternoon," Madame Olwen explained. "The information he entrusted me with was supposed to remain between us, but now… I feel as though you both should know."
"Well, come in then! Sit and tell us everything!" urged Tasha, rushing behind the counter to pour a tankard of cider for their night visitor. Madame Olwen graciously accepted the offering and took a small sip before she began to explain. She told them everything: her first inklings that Clay had been inflicted with a curse, Clay's discovery of that curse, the visit from the unpleasant pirate named "Wiley Riley," her story of "The Banishment of the Phoenix," and the fact that the only way to cure Clay's curse was to destroy or at least completely isolate the evil Captain Flameheart.
The Ambroses listened to this incredible account in stunned silence. Their minds were reeling. How could their son be mixed up in such an affair? When Madame Olwen finished, there was a long tense pause.
"I suspect," the woman concluded, "that Clay has set out to undo his ashen curse without requesting help from anyone."
"But why would he not tell us?" demanded Tasha, feeling quite hurt. "We would have tried to help in any way we could."
"He was concerned for your safety and didn't want to risk your lives as well as his," Madame Olwen explained.
"It's all my fault," moaned Chester. His shoulders slumped, and he covered his face with his rough hand. "If only I hadn't done the idiotic thing and sailed to Flintlock Peninsula. If only I had listened to you, Tasha, our boy would still be here." At this point, the hardened sailor began to sob profusely.
"There, there, my love," Tasha whispered, stroking his broad back. "At this point, what's done is done. We can't change history. All we can do now is press forward and do what we can to find Clay."
Madame Olwen nodded firmly. "That is the main reason why I came to you tonight. When I heard that Clay was missing, I tried doing a few incantations to see if I could see through his eyes and determine where he was. Just before I came here, a very sharp image flooded my mind. I knew it must have been from Clay, for I could hear his panicked thoughts, as well as the slight undercurrent of evil from his ashen curse. It is less than a whisper now compared to his healthy mind, but time will only make it grow louder.
"Through his eyes, I could see that he was standing atop a very tall island. He was surrounded by countless dark figures, and there were explosions and bursts of colored lights. Then he was falling off the cliff towards the sea below, closer and closer to the churning waves. Just before the connection was broken, however, I caught a glimpse of a structure above. It seemed to be a jumble of planks and masts and windows, as though made from the bones of a thousand ships."
Clay's father sprang to his feet. "By the shining blue sea! I know what place you speak of! He fell from the island on which the Glorious Sea Dog's Tavern sits!"
Madame Olwen's eyes lit up. "I believe you are correct! An excellent observation!"
Chester Ambrose rushed upstairs and soon returned wearing all his weaponry and a lantern held in his hand. "Forget what I said about waiting until morning, Tasha! If the part of Madame Olwen's vision about all those dark figures is correct, our son is in great peril! Both of you grab some food and extra supplies and meet me down at the Golden Pondie. We set sail for the tavern as soon as possible!" Both women jumped into action and began rifling through the pantry and cabinets for rations.
As Chester rushed down the trail toward the docks, he lifted his weathered face to the heavens, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed with resolve. "We're coming, Clay," he murmured to the shimmering stars above. "Just hold on a little longer. I believe in you, and we won't stop until you're safely home."