Free Torn-missing 4 by Margaret Peterson Haddix Page B

He ys to be feared above all others.
    Jonah looked back toward the deck. Henry Hudson was still standing there, gazing toward the southwest. But Abacuk Prickett was nowhere in sight.
    The ropes tied around the crow’s nest tightened, suddenly pulled taut. Puzzled, Jonah leaned out, trying to see the full range of rigging below him.
    And there was Abacuk Prickett, already halfway up the ropes.
    The “worst” scoundrel on the entire ship hadn’t disappeared. He was climbing right toward Jonah and Katherine.

“Jonah!” Katherine whispered, looking in the same direction. “There’s not going to be room for all three of us in the crow’s nest!”
    “Can’t you climb down before he gets here?” Jonah asked. “Without bumping into—”
    He stopped, because this wasn’t even worth asking. Most of the way up the rigging was basically just a narrow rope ladder.
    Jonah looked down again. Prickett was getting closer and closer.
    “Climb on my back,” Jonah told Katherine. “Hurry.”
    Katherine grimaced, but quickly tucked the papers back under the canvas so both her hands were free. She put her arms around Jonah’s neck and started to lift her knees.
    “You mean, piggyback?” she asked. “Or—should I get up on your shoulders? More out of the way?”
    Jonah pictured this in his mind: Katherine perched on his shoulders while he stood in the crow’s nest, hundreds of feet off the ground, the ship swaying beneath them. If the ship hit a particularly rough wave, and Jonah or Katherine lost their balance for even a second, would Katherine topple over completely, out of the crow’s nest, pulling Jonah down with her?
    “Just on my back,” Jonah muttered, through gritted teeth.
    Katherine climbed on. Jonah locked his arms around her knees, and crossed his hands over his stomach—he hoped that didn’t look too unnatural. He backed up, trying to take up as little of the room in the crow’s nest as possible.
    “Stay like that,” Katherine whispered.
    Jonah realized she was sitting precariously on the narrow railing. This worked—as long as she could hold on to him.
    Prickett’s weathered face appeared at the opposite edge of the crow’s nest.
    “Stand aside, boy,” Prickett said irritably. “Make room for your betters.”
    Jonah leaned away from Prickett—which leanedKatherine out even more, far over the edge of the crow’s nest. She tightened her grip around Jonah’s neck and let out a soft gasp.
    “What’s that, boy? Did you say something?” Prickett asked, climbing into the crow’s nest. Unlike the technique Katherine and Jonah had used—landing mostly on their hands, and then turning over right side up, trying to dodge the mast—Prickett’s movements were confident and effortless. He entered the crow’s nest as easily as if he were merely striding into a room.
    “N-no, sir,” Jonah stammered. “Do you wish to see the land and the passage?”
    He braced himself and Katherine against the railing, and lifted one arm to point. His cloak puffed up oddly, trapped against Katherine’s arms encircling his neck. Jonah hastily pulled the cloak back into place.
    Prickett didn’t see that,
Jonah told himself.
The mast blocked him. And he was already looking toward the land. Wasn’t he?
    “The passage
does
exist,” Prickett murmured. “Just as your father always believed.”
    Prickett spread his hands wide apart along the railing. He shifted his feet, taking up more of the crow’s nest. Jonah would have felt crowded in the tiny space even if he hadn’t had Katherine balanced on his back, leaning out over the rail.
    “And there’s no sight of land to the north or south or east?” Prickett asked, turning quickly.
    Katherine was perched on the railing to the south. Prickett leaned impatiently around Jonah, in that direction.
    “Stand
aside,
boy,” he commanded.
    His hand was about an inch from Katherine’s knee.
    Jonah grabbed Katherine’s legs with both hands and slid her around to the right,