Free Tracked by Terror by Brad Strickland Page B

the ship, partly underneath the boom that stuck out forward and supported the jib sails. Coils of rope hung from cleats, and small chests cluttered the deck, each of them lashed down to ring bolts set in the wood. The Grimoire might have slipped behind one—if it hadn’t fallen into the water!
    Jarvey hauled himself to his feet and looked wildly around. Gray ocean spread out on all sides, its restless surface streaked with white foam and crawling with waves. Now he could smell the salty ocean air, mixed with tar and the scent of sun-heated wood. Betsy went from one chest to the other, bending and peering. “I don’t see it!”
    â€œHas to be here somewhere,” Jarvey said, taking a staggering step to help her look.
    But Betsy turned and tugged his arm. “Someone’s coming! Follow me.”
    She slipped over the rail. Jarvey heard voices approaching, and he quickly scrambled up and over, dropping down onto a kind of platform attached to the bows. Ropes from it stretched tautly up toward the forward mast, and behind these ropes crouched Betsy. She held a finger to her lips.
    Jarvey’s head spun a little. They sat on a plank a little more than a foot wide, their legs dangling, their hands clutching the thick ropes, and beneath their feet the ocean rose and fell, rose and fell, as the ship’s bow rode a wave or plunged down into a trough, sending a foamy spray of salt water flying. Jarvey fought back nausea. He was getting seasick.
    Just behind him, on the deck, a man was speaking. “Unload these last. They are not important to the Nawab, but they should bring us a pretty profit.”
    â€œAye, sir. ’Twill take most of tomorrow to empty the holds. Save these for the day after, then?”
    â€œYes. And after the crew has finished unloading them, let the men know they may have the next three nights ashore before we sail again.”
    â€œAye, sir.”
    The voices rumbled off into the distance. “Where do you think we are?” Betsy asked.
    Jarvey stared at her. “How should I know?”
    â€œYou opened the book!”
    â€œYes, but Junius Midion yelled something just as I did. ‘Frater.’ What does that mean?”
    Betsy shook her head. “Dunno. Maybe the name of this ship?”
    â€œCould be. We’ve got to find the Grimoire. Think it’s safe to climb back over now?”
    â€œLet me go look. You’re green in the face.”
    Jarvey’s pride was hurt, but in fact he felt happy just to cling to his ropes and rest there. How long had it been since he had eaten? He couldn’t remember, but at the moment he felt that he would throw up everything he had ever swallowed in his life if he moved at all. Betsy took a cautious look over the rail, then slipped over as quietly as a sea breeze.
    Jarvey tried focusing his gaze ahead on the horizon, hoping that would keep his stomach from lurching so much. He sat in the shade of the ship now, with the sun low in the sky over to his left. The day had the hot feel of afternoon about it, so with sunset to his left, Jarvey guessed they were sailing north.
    A cottony pile of clouds had built up dead ahead, purple on their shadowed side, pink and white on the sun-ward one. Squinting, Jarvey could just make out a dark gray smudge of land at their base.
    A moment later, a triumphant Betsy swung back over, clutching something under her left arm. “Got it! It was behind the box right in the front, wedged tight. Here.” She grimaced as she passed the volume over.
    â€œThanks.” Jarvey took the narrow book in both hands. “Should I open it?”
    Betsy squirmed. “Dunno. What if your mother and father are here? Best to wait, maybe, until we know where we are. I’d say hold on a bit. Keep it safe.”
    Safe! What if Jarvey dropped the book now, a few feet above the ocean? Carefully he tucked it into his shirt. He had become so used to carrying the thing that it felt almost