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Carter groaned, his legs cramping up under him.
He’d been thrown into a tiny room, only slightly bigger than a closet, and his body was beginning to object. He was a fairly big man, not in bulk but in height. How did they expect all of him to fit in that small space?
Of course, they didn’t give a damn. Why should they? He was their prisoner, a thorn in the side, an annoyance of which they would gladly rid themselves. Thank the stars Megan’s words had given the pirate captain cause for pause. Carter could only hope his lenience would hold up.
But then, as they had done so many times that day, Carter’s thoughts went back to Megan and, like it had done every single time, his heart sank lower and lower in his chest. Helpless to protect her, he could only pray that the captain’s minute show of decency would be of benefit to her. Her fate was in that man’s hands. Desperate to be free, to be able to go to her, he looked down at the heavy chains that bound his wrists. Again, his heart sank. There was no way he could free himself of his bonds, not even if he had teeth of steel. Outside of the key, the only tool that could get him out of his chains was a very heavy, very sharp axe. And a pretty powerful man to wield it.
Frustrated at the futility of his thoughts, Carter’s brows furrowed in a frown as he pondered what other options there might be. Deep in thought, he was startled when he heard a fumbling at the door. Surprised that he hadn’t heard footsteps approaching, he sat upright, eager to negotiate his way out of his prison. It was his only hope.
The door opened, revealing a slender figure in the doorway. Carter frowned. “Megan,” he croaked, “is that you?”
The moonlight was to the back of the person’s head, making it hard to decipher the face. All he could determine was that the person was slim, wearing long sleeved shirt and slacks, and no taller than about five-four. With that build, it had to be Megan. But how could she have gotten there?
Scrambling to his knees, he said her name again. “Megan.”
But it was not Megan. The figure was shaking its head. “Nay, I am not. Megan is the name of a woman, is it not?” The figure stepped forward, making Carter raise his eyebrows in surprise.
Now that it was closer he could finally see the person who had come toward him. What he saw made him cock his head to one side in surprise. “A boy?”
The visitor shook his head. “Nay, sir. I have passed my sixteenth summer. I am a man.”
Carter was not about to debate that but what he saw was a young, fresh face unmarred by the wickedness of his environment and his comrades, seeming totally innocent of all the evil that roiled around him.
Recovering his composure, he decided to grill the youth, realizing he might be his answer to escape. “Who are you?” He made sure not to come across as too aggressive. The last thing he wanted was to scare the boy off.
His visitor seemed unconcerned, probably because he knew Carter was in chains he could not possibly break. Ignoring the question, he knelt down and held out a tin plate on which sat a lone potato and a piece of meat, flat and white and totally unappetizing. Carter could only guess it was some sort of fish.
He decided to try again. Maybe if he could get the boy to engage in conversation he could get his help. It was wishful thinking but it was all he had. “Who are you?” he asked again, his tone conversational, “and why are you here on this pirate ship?” It was a reasonable question. He could see that this young man did not belong. There was something about him, a gentle air that did not fit in.
This time the boy graced him with a response. “I am Emmanuel,” he said, his voice low. “Emanuel Morgan of Kingston.”
Never taking his eyes off the boy, Carter gave him a slow nod. The information didn’t help him much but at least he’d got the boy talking. He decided to press him a bit more. “And what are you doing here, Emmanuel Morgan, out on a pirate ship?”
“It is not by choice,” he said. “I had nowhere else to go. Just after my fourteenth summer my mother died. I had to fend for myself after that.”
That made Carter raise his eyebrows. “And you decided to become a pirate?”
The boy shook his head. “I work for the captain for my keep. One day, when I am older, I will be free.”
Carter frowned. “Work for him? Doing what?”
“I am the cook’s helper on this ship, the Black Baron. I have been working with this crew two summers now.” The boy’s voice trailed off as if he were lost in thought. Then he shook his head, as if waking from a reverie, and pushed the plate under Carter’s nose. “I must say no more,” he said, his tone turning formal. “I was told to take this to you. Here it is. Eat.”
Carter did not take the plate. Instead, he stared down at the chains wrapped around his wrists. “Can you release my bonds,” he asked, “so I can eat?” He was saying the words as casually as he could, not wanting to scare the little beggar off, wanting only to trick him into carrying out that one simple but so crucial task.
But it looked like the boy was not as simple as he’d seemed. Eyes narrowed, he gave Carter a suspicious glare. “You can still lift your hands to your mouth,” he pointed out. “You can still eat, even with your chains.”
Trying to put him at ease, Carter gave him a crooked grin. “Good point. But there’s another reason I need my hands to be free. There is something I would like to show you.”
The gaze grew even more suspicious. “What is it?”
Carter shook his head. “I cannot tell you. It is too hard to explain. I will have to show you.” When the boy made no move to come closer, giving no indication that he had any plan to release him, Carter pressed on. “It is in my pocket,” he said. “I cannot reach it, not with these chains on my wrists. You will have to release me so I can get it for you.”
Slowly, the boy shook his head. “No, that is not a good idea.” His refusal brooked no argument but there was one thing that gave Carter hope. There was an unmistakable glint of curiosity in Emmanuel Morgan’s eyes.
He decided to try another tactic. If he could not get the boy to release him, he could at least try to get on his good side, win his trust, maybe even win him over as a friend of sorts.
He gave the boy a reassuring smile. “Okay, then, you do it.” He shifted so his left trouser pocket was in view. “It’s in there. Just dig into my pocket and pull it out.”
For a moment the boy stared at the pocket, not moving, then he lifted his gaze to Carter. “It is a trinket?” he asked.
Carter nodded. “A very special trinket. One, the likes of which you’ve never seen before.”
Clearly curious, the boy bit down on his bottom lip. He frowned. Then he raised his eyebrows. Then, seeming to decide to throw caution to the wind, he nodded.
Slowly, hesitantly, he crept closer, his eyes never leaving Carter’s chained up hands. He might be curious but this boy was no idiot. He was moving closer but he was being cautious, nonetheless, clearly ready to spring away if Carter made any sudden move.
Not wanting to scare him off, Carter closed his eyes and turned his head away, letting the boy see that he would be no threat at all. It seemed the tactic worked because, seconds later, he felt furious fingers digging into his pocket then grasping that special gem he’d promised. Smart one that he was, the boy did not linger. As soon as he’d palmed the device he pulled his hand out and quickly backed away, well out of reach.
Only then did Carter open his eyes. When he saw Emmanuel’s confused gaze, he smiled.
“What is this?” the boy asked, staring down at the rectangular box with the glass screen.
“It is a cell phone,” Carter began but then, realizing how stupid it was of him to even go there, he began again. “It is a talking box,” he said. “You put it to your ear and when someone far away from you speaks into their own talking box you hear it in yours.”
“Talking box.” The boy snorted the words, practically sneering his disdain. “You jest, sir. There is no box that can talk.” And then he gave Carter a look that said the boy was assessing him, probably for hints of madness.
But who could blame the kid? In his hands, this cell phone was almost five hundred years ahead of its time.
Eager to impress the kid, Carter decided to show him a few tricks. The phone might be useless where phone calls were concerned but it had enough other features to dazzle the boy’s eyes, at least as long as the battery lasted.
He decided to start simple. “Tap the screen,” he said.
The boy stared at the phone and frowned. “Screen?”
Carter shook his head. This would be so much easier if the boy would just come close enough so he could demonstrate. “Give it to me,” he said. “I will show you.”
Curiosity clearly getting the better of him, Emmanuel scooted up close to Carter, close enough where he was in grabbing range, close enough for Carter to throw his hand over the boy’s neck and trap him. But that would do him no good. All he would get for his efforts was a super scared kid who would never trust him and who would end up being no use to him at all.
When the boy passed the phone to him he turned it on, making the screen light up.
The boy jumped back with a gasp but, just as quickly, he leaned in again, and peered at the prize in his captor’s hand.
Carter could not help but smile. The boy had seemed amazed when the screen lit up. Little did he know that he’d seen nothing yet. Pressing the button at the front, he let the icons populate the screen then he went to settings and chose the sounds feature. When he selected the chime sound Emmanuel jumped then he fell over backward. Literally.
Eyes wide, he sucked in his breath. “Music,” he gasped. “It is music.” He stared up at Carter. “How is it that your music box is so wee? It is a fairy box?”
Carter chuckled. “You could say that.”
Seeming anxious to hear more, Emmanuel scrambled onto his knees. “Is there more music in the fairy box?” he asked, practically panting in his eagerness. “I would like to hear more.”
Carter gave him more, from crickets chirping, to bells ringing, to the sound of a barking dog, and with each new sound Emmanuel became more and more entranced, seeming to lose track of everything but the marvel that was in Carter’s hand.
“You are a wondrous man,” Emmanuel whispered. “A god.”
Carter chuckled again. “I wouldn’t put it quite like that.” Then, wanting to make sure he’d made a believer of Emmanuel, one who was so impressed that he would go out of his way to please him, he tapped on the camera icon and pulled up a photograph.
This time Emmanuel did squeal, a sound sharp enough for Carter to hiss him into silence. “Will you keep it down?” he growled. “Do you want to bring your pack of heathens down on top of us?”
The boy gulped. “No. No, sir Forgive me sir, but I saw someone in your music box. It is a woman. A very pretty woman. How did she get in there?”
Satisfied that he’d stupefied his subject, Carter wrapped his palm around the phone and shifted so he could push it back into his pocket. “Want to see more?” he asked.
“Yes. If you please, sir, yes.” Emmanuel was nodding, practically salivating.
It was exactly what Carter had been hoping for. It was time for him to make his demands. If he played his cards right he just might make it out of his prison, and his first order of business would be to find Megan.
Carter lifted his bound hands. “If you want to see more then you must get me out of these chains,” he said.
The boy cocked his head to one side. “But you are like a god. You can put a woman inside your music box. Can you not free yourself, then?”
Carter decided to play along. “I cannot use my powers for that,” he said, “or else I will become weak and lose the woman in the box. That is why you must do it for me.”
The argument must have made sense to Emmanuel because he nodded. “I understand you, sir. You must do it that way to save the woman’s life.”
That reason was as good as any. Carter nodded. “That is so,” he said gravely. “Her life is in your hands.”
Emmanuel seemed to contemplate that for a while, his face serious, his brows furrowed. Then slowly he rose but not before returning the cell phone to Carter’s hand. “You are a god,” he said softly, “an earth god, and I must obey. I do not want you to lock me in your fairy box.” Then he tightened his lips and heaved a resigned sigh. “If I help you, and the captain finds out, I will be made to walk the plank. But what can I do? I have no choice.”
The words made Carter’s heart sink. By asking Emmanuel to release him from his chains he was putting the boy in danger. It made him feel as guilty as sin but what else could he do? It was the only way he would be able to help Megan. He began chewing on his bottom lip, his thoughts darting desperately as he tried to find a sensible solution.
He drew in a steadying breath. He didn’t know how he would do it, but he would have to find a way to free all three of them at the same time. It would be a tall order, with them out on the ocean in a pirate ship, but he would have to do it.
He cleared his throat. Right then his number one job was to reassure the boy so he would follow through on the plan to release him. “You forget something,” he said, his voice a whole lot more confident that he felt. “I am a god. You said so yourself. Free my bonds and I will give you a good life.”
The boy raised his eyebrows and grimaced, not looking totally convinced but, to Carter’s relief, he nodded and turned back the way from which he’d come, but not before Carter heard his final words. “I will trust you,” the boy said softly. “My life is in your hands.”
They were words that made Carter feel even worse. How could he guarantee the boy safety when he didn’t even have a real plan? He was going to have to wing it and pray like he’d never prayed before.
When the boy disappeared into the shadows he slumped back against the wall of his little closet-for-a-room, feeling almost physically sick, too sick to even look at the food the boy had brought, ravenous though he was. How the hell was he going to get them all out of this mess?
He was staring down at his chains, his heart so heavy it felt like a lead weight in his chest, when a soft sound made his head jerk up. It was a hiss, soft and low, but unmistakable. He looked up, but stuck as he was in his closet, his range of vision blocked by the doorjamb, he could not see what had made the sound.
And then it came again. Another hiss, but this time it was sharper than the first.
He shifted, as far as the chains would let him go, peering out the doorway, trying to find the source of the sound.
“Carter. It’s me. Megan.”
Carter’s heart leapt to his throat. “Megan,” he hissed back. “Where are you?”
“I’m here,” she whispered back. “I was waiting for that boy to leave.”
There was a soft scuffling sound and then she slipped inside, almost soundless, as stealthy as a cat.
His heart near dissolving in relief at seeing her safe, Carter reached for her, only to be held back by his bonds. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his eyes glued to her as he drank her in. “How did you escape?”
“Rum,” she whispered as she came to crouch in front of him. “He got drunk.”
Carter peered at her face, half hidden in the shadows. “Did he hurt you?” He was almost afraid to ask.
He sighed with relief when she shook her head. “He didn’t get the chance. He was out like a light in minutes.”
“But how did you find me?” he asked, his respect for Megan rising by the minute. “And how did you slip past all his crew?”
She shook her head. “I can hardly believe it myself. It was like the gods were on my side. I...”
That was as far as she got. They’d been so caught up in the relief of seeing each other that neither one of them had noticed the return of Emmanuel Morgan, not until he was standing there in the doorway, his mouth agape.
He gasped. “It is the woman from the fairy box.”
“Oh, sh...” Carter swallowed the expletive. He could not afford for the boy to raise an alarm. If ever there was a time for him to put his earth god hat on, it was now.
Fixing the boy with a stern glare, he issued a strong reminder. “You are right,” he said, his voice firm. “And if you don’t want to replace her in that box, you know what you must do.” He shoved his bound hands forward. “Unlock these chains right now.”
It was a stern command, a harshly uttered one, said firmly enough to command obedience. “You can tell them Megan stole the keys from the captain and released me.”
As he held his hands out, Carter could only pray his strongman tactic would work.