Finally, he opened his eyes, determination riding high on his brow.“Three points north by northeast, Shorty.”Then he glanced over all of them.“We head forÎle Du Crâne.”
“Weren’t that the island where ye…” Shorty gulped.“Where all them…”
Caleb raised a hand, and the sailor slammed his mouth shut.
“We have no choice.Hold her at four knots, if you can.Trim what canvas we’ve left.Keep the glass turning and the men at the pumps.Now off to it!”he barked, and the men scrambled away.All except Alden, whose normally confident expression had dipped into uncertainty.
Desi knew most of the islands in the Caribbean, but she hadn’t heard ofÎle Du Crâne.It was probably called something else in her time.
Regardless, it seemed a place everyone feared to visit.In fact, if she remembered her French from high school, the name meantIsland of the skull.
Chapter 11:Île Du Crâne
A song pierced the darkness, a melody floating atop the storm raging in Caleb’s mind.A voice, sweet and feminine, drifted atop glittering light, like an angel sent to soothe the raging seas with a heavenly tune.He knew that voice.
The song continued.A vision appeared.Geneviève, in a shimmering gown sitting atop a large rock in the middle of the sea.Foam-laced waves frolicked about her as she raised her chin to the cloudless sky and continued her song, the sweet notes luring Caleb to join her.
But then the notes turned discordant and jarring.Geneviève’s comely face withered, haggard and drawn.The music faded to laughter, wicked laughter.She glanced behind her.
The sea parted, forced aside by a massive rock emerging from the deep.Waves fled, slipping back into the ocean as it continued to rise…up…up.Two black holes appeared, carved into rock, then another in the center.Water poured from within them as rows of sharp teeth rose from the sea, lining a gaping mouth in what surely had been a final scream of death.
Geneviève faced him again, a sultry grin on her face as she curled one finger, prompting him to join her.
A flash of green drew his gaze back to the skull.Trees sprouted atop it, dense and verdant, as white sands filled the vacant eyeholes.A lady emerged from the greenery.Miss Starr in a lovely maroon gown.She wrung her hands, anxiously gazing about, a look of lost desperation on her face.
And he knew he had to save her.He had to help her somehow.
Something bumped into his foot.The vision disappeared.The divergent notes of Geneviève’s song faded into the creak and groan of wood and the rapid swoosh of the sea.
He jerked his head up.His desk appeared before him, dividers and rulers spread across his chart.Gray shadows slithered in the corners of his cabin, shrinking from the light.A cold mist swept over him, chilling his bones.“Be gone!”he shouted.And instantly they disappeared.He’d seen them before, lingering in the darkness, but always at his command, they left.
Shaking the slumber from his head, he glanced down to find Patches rubbing against his boots.
Rot and Ruin!He’d been seeking another island to head toward,anyisland butÎle Du Crâne, and he must have drifted to sleep.He should be above deck leading his men or below aiding with the pumps, not sleeping like a weak babe.
Reaching down, he picked up Patches and stroked her fur.“Thanks for waking me up, little one.”The cat purred and leaned her cheek against his.She’d been a gift from his mother, who’d told him that the affection of a pet was a reminder of the simple pleasures of God’s creation.And if he admitted it, Patches did just that.If only she would wake Caleb up whenever he had a nightmare, for they were not only coming more frequently, but getting more frightening.He’d not dreamed of Geneviève in quite some time, norÎle Du Crâne.No doubt ’twas because they were heading there that his mind had conjured up such a ridiculous dream.
But Miss Starr.She—or a woman who looked much like her—had been in many of his dreams over the past year.Yet never had she looked so forlorn, so lost before.Was he supposed to help her somehow?His glance landed on his Bible.
“Father, I’m sorry I haven’t spoken to You in a while.I need Your help.”He glanced at the Ring still on his finger, suddenly feeling as though he’d betrayed God.Maybe he had.“I’m sorry.”He yanked it off and slid it into his jerkin pocket.“’Tis not You I don’t trust.’Tis myself.I thought I was doing Your will…” Emotion clogged his throat and he stood, set Patches down, grabbed his cutlass, and sheathed it.He didn’t know what else to say to God except “Help me” as he opened the door and left.
♥
The green cliffs ofÎle Du Crânerose through the haze, biting the morning sky.TheSentinellumbered toward the narrow harbor mouth, her torn sails flapping, hull groaning with every swell.
Desi gripped the railing amidships, the salt-slick wood warm beneath her palms as brine tasted salty on her lips.The sluggish churn of water in the bilge pumps below added to the swish of the sea against the hull as theSentinellimped forward.She could almost feel the ship’s exhaustion as if it were alive beneath her feet.
Caleb stood on the quarterdeck, square-shouldered and unshaken, his voice cutting through the chaos.
“Helm, steady as she goes!”
“Aye, steady she goes!”Shorty called from the whipstaff, sweat dripping down his temple.
“Quartermaster!Soundings, call the depth!”
The splash of a lead line broke the morning mist.“By the mark, seven!”came the shout from the bow.
Caleb studied the jagged rocks guarding the inlet.“Ease sheets on the fore and main!Hands to braces.Bring her up a point to windward!”
