Prologue:
Asher dove through the hole in the church wall for the thousandth time. He had been living in the small cubby hole for longer than he could remember and for all he knew, he would be living there until judgement day came. Asher peered tentatively out the hole and quickly pulled back as the British troops marched by. Still breathing heavily, he pulled out the orange he'd had concealed in his thin jacket. He pulled the skin away, as he'd seen people do so many times as he watched them with envy. Asher bit into the soft, sweet orange. After his first bite, he devoured the rest faster than he would have liked to. He laid back and stared at the orange peel, longing for more. The boy laid onto his bed and stared at his surroundings. It was barely enough room for him, maybe 3 feet wide and 5 feet long with a slanted ceiling. Asher had pulled in some straw for a bed and that was all that furnished the room. All except a box. He had saved money he had managed to beg out of people. It was only one pound and it had taken him months to save up for an emergency. Sighing, he put his head on the straw bed and closed his eyes.
Chapter 1
Asher's green eyes snapped open. He shook his long, black hair to wake himself up. Yawning, he crawled out of his hiding spot and walked around Port Royal, trying to find some food. After a half of an hour, he spotted an old woman giving some bread to a poor girl and her little brother. Asher sauntered over to see if the woman would give him some. "Please may I have some bread too?"
"Of course you may!" the old woman replied. Asher stuffed the food into his mouth and ran off.
Asher was wandering the streets in no apparent direction when he was suddenly pulled into a dark alley. A dirty hand was thrust over his mouth and a low voice said quietly, "If you move, I'll kill you." Asher felt a knife prod his back. He nodded quickly. "Now I need you to lead the British rats off of my tail." the voice told him, "If
you run, I will chase you down and kill you. Understand?" Asher nodded again. He was then thrown back into the light just as the troops stopped and asked him if they had seen a man running quickly through the empty streets. "Th-th-that w-way." stammered Asher, pointing in the opposite direction of the alley. "Thank you very much, lad." said a soldier. He was about to run off when the same hand pulled him back into the alley. This was when he got a good look at the man. He looked well-fed, but slim, with dark brown hair and startlingly bright blue eyes. He was dressed like a pirate with a sword at his side and a pistol in his belt. His clothes were dirty and worn and he smelled as if he had not had a bath in over a week. "I'm very hungry, go get me something to eat." The pirate watched intently as Asher slid into a richly dressed man. He saw the boy slip his hand in and out of the man's pocket. "I'm so sorry for bumping into you, sir."
"Watch where you're going." the man mumbled suspiciously. Asher ran to the nearest food stall and bought a large basket of fruit with the money he had recently obtained. Then he ran it back to the pirate. "You're not a bad thief, boy. I'm Captain Seamus. I have a position available for a cabin boy on my ship." Asher realized the Captain was waiting for an answer.
"What are my wages?"
"You will be clothed and well-fed, with a bed to lay your head and we will go on many grand adventures."
"Fine." said Asher, after a moment of consideration. After all, this could be his ticket out of Jamaica and on to a new life. Seamus peered over the side of the alley and motioned for Asher to follow. After making it safely to the Olympia, Seamus's ship, they were greeted with a lot of handshakes and slaps on the back. The ship's cook appeared and said, "Well, it looks like you two nearly missed dinner. Come below and grab a bite to eat."
The ship's cook, Stewy, slapped a hunk of sludge into Asher's bowl. The boy looked down at it with disgust as he took his seat next to a crewman. "Hullo, Asher. I heard you're the new cabin boy."
"That's right." Asher replied.
"Well, I'm John Runte, but the crew calls me Runt because of my peculiar size." Runt was big as a bear, however, his size was not due to gluttony but merely from years of serving under the mast. Asher tried a bite of his food, and immediately threw it up on the deck. Every time he ate more, it came right back up. "I can't eat this. Do you want it?" Runt nodded hurriedly. Asher pushed his dish towards Runt. The big man grabbed his bowl and slurped it down noisily. Asher tried to gnaw on the rock-like biscuits, but all he got in return was an empty stomach and sore jaws. After the meal, Runt took him to his cot. He led Asher up onto the deck and then down a different flight of old wooden stairs that creaked and sounded as if they would give away any second. Asher was led into a fairly large room filled with old hammocks dangling from the ceiling. It smelled of sweat and salt. There was a chest filled with boots and spare blankets nestled by the wall. Runt pointed his finger at the corner. "That one there is yours." The hammock he had to offer was brown with age. It had countless patches and there was a stain that looked suspiciously of vomit. His bed looked as if it had had many years of wear and tear. Asher walked to it and threw his meager possessions beside it. Seamus threw him a threadbare blanket which didn't smell new either. Suddenly, the boat rocked and Asher was thrown to the ground. Runt stifled a laugh. "We just left port. You'll get your sea legs soon enough."
That night, he wrapped himself in the blanket to avoid laying on the stain. Asher lay there thinking about the adventures to come, listening to the men's restless snoring. Just as he was closing his eyes, the boat shuddered. A few men sat up in alarm. Something large slammed into the side of the ship, sending it bobbing up and down like a cork, rocking side to side wildly. A shout came from above, "All hands on deck!" Sailors were already shoving on their boots and thrusting on their hats. Asher followed their example and flew up the steps two at a time. A storm was raging on the deck. As the boy looked over the ship's railing,he saw a huge, slimy form sink into the ocean. "What is that thing?" Asher shouted to Seamus, who was at the helm. "Sea Monster!"
Chapter 2
Fear was clearly written on Seamus's face as he strained to spin the wheel. A sailor bounded up the steps that separated the deck from the quarter deck. "Sir," he shouted, "We can't get men up to the mainmast to see where the monster is attacking from. We've already lost three men to the storm. We need someone smaller." Seamus eyed Asher for a moment. "Get up there, now!" Seamus told the boy. Asher raced toward the main deck, dodging barrels that were rolling about as the ship rocked to and fro. Asher grasped the shrouds and carefully began to pull himself up. Looking up, he realized that he was half way there. Before he could catch himself, Asher's hand slipped on the wet rope. He was hurtling towards the deck, when his foot got caught in the rigging. For a few terrifying moments, he hung suspended upside-down, 40 feet above the main deck. Asher managed to grab on to the rope and unhook his foot. He kept climbing, more carefully now. He reached the top and scrambled into the crow's nest. He could see everything from this height, but this was no time for sight seeing. "Monster on the left side!" he shrieked above the storm. The boy heard the faint sound of sailors repeating what Asher had said to the captain. The ship turned sharply to the port side, nearly flinging Asher from his lookout post. The monster barreled past. Clearly, it was not good at changing directions. Seamus used this to his advantage. Twisting the ship away from the sea monster every time he charged at them. "Eventually, the monster will tire of his little game and leave." Captain Seamus screamed to the crew. As if on cue, Asher watched Dagon accept defeat and swim away. This is when he scrambled down from the crow's nest. The tempest slowed down to a halt. Men were being counted to see how many were lost to the storm. "Two injured and three dead, sir." reported Runt to Seamus. The captain's face grew dark and his mouth hardened into a straight line across his angular face. His blue eyes faded slightly. Asher could imagine him as a very old man. "Check the ship for damages. Hop to it!" Captain Seamus told the man without looking up. Suddenly, he seemed to snap out of his trance and strode briskly to his cabin. Asher scurried to help. "What's wrong with the captain?" He asked Runt. "Well, he's never happy when he loses some of his crew. He'll mope for the rest of the night, but he'll be fine tomorrow." Sure enough, Seamus burst out of his cabin the next morning, full of energy. "Today is a fine day, gentlemen, for the finding of a treasure beyond your imaginations." At the sound of the word 'treasure' the crew looked up from their jobs and listened intently. "I believe you all may recall a curtain pirate named Kidd." The men's faces lit up in recognition. "When he died," The crew took off their hats in reverence to the dead pirate. "He left behind a very large amount of treasure." Men murmured with excitement. "The treasure-or so I've been led to believe-is buried somewhere on the coast of Jamaica. So get ready for some island sun, because we're going to go find the legendary treasure of Captain Kidd!" Men cheered and threw their hats in the air.
Later that night, the crew were celebrating with some drinks and a round of stories. Most were made up to make the story teller sound more courageous, but they were good to hear anyway. "So there I was," a shipmate resumed. "With a nothing but a rusty old dagger. The pirate army of 3,000 was advancing quickly-" "Last time you said there were 1,000 men!" a crew mate interrupted. Snickers rippled through the crowd. "I was drunk then and had no idea what was coming out of me mouth!" the narrator said angrily, his face turning red. "Or maybe you're drunk now and lying!" the man responded. A fight broke out suddenly between the two men. Blood would have been spilled had Runt and another man not come between the troublemakers. This was how each story went. It was rare for a man to finish a story without interruptions. This is when Asher took the time to learn the crew's names. There was the first mate, Runt, who he had already known, Tom Easton, the crew's clown, Ed Bridge, the old one with great stories, Brogan Reed, the young one, Samuel Butler, the quiet one, Johnny Morgan, the gentle giant, Drake Vale, an oily, thin man whom Asher did not trust, and James O'Malley, the favorite of the crew. Tom had red hair and a red face to match it with lots of freckles thrown about his face. Ed was the oldest, perhaps even older than the captain, but no one knew his exact age. Every time someone asked him, it was a different number. Some said that he didn't even know his own age. He was fairly stout and friendly, but he kept mostly to himself because of his mysterious past. Brogan was in his early twenties and was the most adventurous. The crew thoroughly enjoyed his company. Samuel was a thin man with pock marks in his face and he had a quivering lip that looked as if he might start crying any minute. He stuttered when he spoke so he rarely did. He had small, squinty eyes and peculiarly big ears. Johnny was almost bigger than Runt, with a scruffy face and a kind and generous personality. Asher was scared of him at first but later learned that he wouldn't hurt a fly. James was in his early thirties and was always cracking jokes, but the thing that separated his personality from Tom's was that he knew when to be serious. Drake was a very secluded man, with a small head and a sharp nose. No one really liked him because he was cruel and inhumane to everything he touched. The only reason that he was on the ship was because he was a very good sailor.
Later that night, Asher was lying in his cot when Runt, who was beside him, asked him, "Do you know your parents?" The question caught him off guard so he paused before he answered. "No. I never met them. All I remember was being in an orphanage until I was seven. I ran away because it was so horrible. There were fights all the time and people were always waiting with long, sad faces. They were waiting for the parents that would never come. Why?" Brogan, who was on the other side of him, broke in, "Not many men knew their parents. They were just young boys, like you, when they got into the pirating business." "It's hardly a business." Asher pointed out. "We take from people. Businesses sell things to people." "Well it's a way of life. Would you rather be on the streets barely scraping by?" "I suppose not." All was silent after that and Asher gradually slipped into a deep and troublesome sleep. His dream was horrible. There was a great pit and Asher found himself standing on the edge. Hanging above the pit were two figures and though it was too dark to see who they were, he had a feeling that they were his parents. Suddenly, the ropes which were holding them suspended above the chasm broke. They plummeted into the abyss, screaming and wailing. The man grabbed onto a ledge and the woman managed to grab onto his ankle. Time seemed to stop as they dangled for a moment. Suddenly, the woman slipped off of the man's ankle and she tumbled, shrieking, into the pit. This is when Asher saw a man dressed like a British soldier catch the woman and drag her onto the ledge that he was standing. The soldier looked down at the woman in his arms and before Asher could yell a warning, he slit her throat. Blood flowed from her throat like a river and her limp body hurtled down into the darkness. Asher screamed. He glanced up at the man, still hanging from the ledge. He pulled himself up and stared down into the pit. Then, he looked straight at Asher. Tears were streaming out of bright, blue eyes.
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