Free Barefoot Pirate by Sherwood Smith

the canoe, which they’d
been carrying upside down, and set it gliding in the low surf. “You get in
first, Princess Nan,” Blackeye said.
    “Just Nan.” Though Nan secretly loved being called Princess .
She could get used to that, but she didn’t want Joe hearing it.
    Besides, the others seemed to respect her more, the way they
nodded as if her opinion mattered. Imagine McKynzi seeing this!
    Nan climbed in carefully, holding on when the canoe rocked. One
by one the others climbed in, rocking it much less. Nan watched the way they
stepped right into the middle—she was determined not to rock it again. Mican
passed out paddles, and she gripped hers and made practice movements through
the air.
    Warron, the tallest, was last. As soon as he was in the kids
rowed together. Mican stayed in back, steering with curious swooping motions to
his paddling.
    Nan pulled hard, noticing that the others kept the arm at
the top of the paddle stiff. Though this felt awkward, it gave her strokes more
power. Grunting with effort, she tried to do her part in sending the silent
boat skimming over the rippling waves.
    When she got used to the rhythm, she looked about curiously.
Her eyes were completely adjusted to the darkness now. Wisps of fog drifted
over the water here and there. Once they paddled straight through a patch of
fog and she shivered in the sudden chill. When they emerged again, she saw that
they were hugging close to a mighty rock cliff. Way in the distance she could
barely make out the black line of the other end of the island against the
star-studded indigo sky.
    They glided silently round the cliff, then curved into a
small inlet. Instead of pulling out again when they neared the opposite side,
they kept moving through increasingly shallow water until Blackeye said, “Now.”
    The others quietly shipped their paddles along the bottom of
the canoe and jumped out. Nan made haste to follow, splashing into the cool
sea.
    The others picked the boat out of the surging tide and
carried it ashore, setting it down behind a narrow outcropping of rock so that
it was not visible from the water.
    “This way,” Sarilda whispered to Nan.
    They scrambled up the side of a brush-covered hill. Near the
top they passed into the darkness of thick forest, but Warron, who was in the
lead, scarcely abated his pace. Two different-feeling hands took hold of Nan’s,
guiding her silently. She moved as quickly as she could, her other senses
sharpening to make up for her lack of vision.
    They reached the top of a rise, then started down a winding,
narrow path until they emerged from the forest. Outlined in the moonslight
about a quarter of a mile away was a castle built on a high cliff. The lower
walls seemed to be made of some dark stone; the long narrow windows all glowed
with golden light. Far below, a sheer drop of maybe a thousand feet, Nan
guessed, waves crashed against the rocks with a distant hiss and roar.
    “Ivy,” Sarilda said, pointing at the bulk of the castle.
“Those walls are covered with a few hundred years’ growth. That’s how we got up
and down the time we pretended we were ghosts, and scared them.” She laughed.
“What fun that was!”
    Nan couldn’t hide a shiver. She wasn’t about say what she
really thought about climbing on thousand-foot walls—but she couldn’t bring
herself to lie and say it sounded great. So she forced herself to give Sarilda
a princess grin, because a princess wouldn’t be a chicken.
    “No ghosts,” Blackeye said. “We’re here to listen this run.
See how many of ’em you can identify. When the big moon touches the promontory—”
She pointed to the opposite cliff “—meet right here again.”
    “Yeagh,” Mican said with a heavy, disappointed-sounding
sigh. “Who’s going where?”
    “We’ll take the company rooms,” Blackeye said. “Nan and I. I
want to show her around.”
    “Ballroom,” Warron said quietly.
    “I’ll go with him.” Mican sounded resigned.
    “Sarilda?”