let out a cry of delight and hugged his neck tightly.
Gasping for air, Diego struggled to a door at the end of the courtyard. If he could dump Marcella somewhere in the women’s quarters, he could go back, find Carolina, and join the fight.
Suddenly he spotted Carolina through the mass of pirates. She was tying back her hair with a length of vine and wrapping her sari in such a way that she could fight unimpeded.
“Carolina!” he called.
She started to turn toward him, her face lighting up in a smile. But suddenly Diego felt his face seized by two hands with sharp nails. Then Marcella pressed her mouth to his.
Startled, Diego nearly dropped her. He tried to pull away, but her hands were strong and his were full. Finally she let go.
“What did you do that for?” he sputtered.
“Oh, Diego,” she sighed happily, nestling into his chest. “You are so brave and wonderful.”
Diego looked around for Carolina. Had she seen what had just happened? What did she think?
He caught a glimpse of her dark eyes, just long enough to notice sadness and hurt reflected in them. Then she turned and vanished into the crowd of pirates.
“Carolina, wait!” he called.
“Oooh, just over there under that mango tree,” Marcella said, pointing. “That would be perfect. And maybe you could pick me some mangoes before you go running off to defend my honor.”
Furious, Diego dumped Marcella on the grass in the women’s courtyard.
“Hey!” Marcella objected. “Careful! You’ll crush my sari!”
“Stay here,” he said.
“But what about my mangoes?” he heard her wail as he ran back to the crowd of pirates. He couldn’t worry about Marcella now. He had to find Carolina and explain—not to mention fight off the East India Trading Company armada at the same time.
He nearly barreled into Billy Turner as he charged down the stairs to the outer gardens. Billy was fumbling with his pistol, making sure it was loaded.
“I knew this would happen,” Billy remarked. “Jack never goes anywhere without causing trouble. Why do I ever listen to him? I ask you. I’m never getting home at this rate. I’ll never again see my son—little William—”
“Come on, let’s catch up,” Diego said, drawing his sword. They ran across the gardens to the stone stairway that led down to the hidden harbor. There they stopped at the top of the stairs, frozen in horror.
The harbor was teeming with East India Trading Company ships. Pennants with their triple-cross symbol flew from every mast. Marines of the Royal Navy were already swarming up the stone dock and boats were being lowered from the other ships to bring more of them to shore.
Benedict Huntington was leading the charge onto land, slashing the air in front of him with his rapier. Sri Sumbhajee and his pirates rushed down to meet him, shouting curses. They met with a furious clang of steel.
“Where’s Jack?” Diego shouted in Billy’s ear.
Billy scanned the crowd. “I don’t see him.” He sighed heavily. “Which is either a good sign…or a really, really bad one.”
C HAPTER F IFTEEN
T he guards who were normally stationed outside the kitchens had run off to join the fighting. Inside the high-walled courtyard, the cooks were hurrying to clear up so they too could leap into battle.
A head poked through the doors—a head in a very striking hat.
“Excuse me,” said Jack Sparrow. “Could I have some curry?”
The cooks paused, trading bewildered glances.
“Your spiciest vegetable curry,” Jack said. “And lots of it.” He glanced furtively over his shoulder, peering up and down the hall. “You do make curry in this kitchen, don’t you?”
“We have vindaloo,” one of the cooks said nervously. “Or the phaal is even spicier.”
“That,” Jack said. “The falalalalal. All of it.”
A cook lifted a small cauldron off the embers of a dying fire and passed the handle to Jack. Jack reached one finger toward the stew inside of it.
“You—might not want to
Gasping for air, Diego struggled to a door at the end of the courtyard. If he could dump Marcella somewhere in the women’s quarters, he could go back, find Carolina, and join the fight.
Suddenly he spotted Carolina through the mass of pirates. She was tying back her hair with a length of vine and wrapping her sari in such a way that she could fight unimpeded.
“Carolina!” he called.
She started to turn toward him, her face lighting up in a smile. But suddenly Diego felt his face seized by two hands with sharp nails. Then Marcella pressed her mouth to his.
Startled, Diego nearly dropped her. He tried to pull away, but her hands were strong and his were full. Finally she let go.
“What did you do that for?” he sputtered.
“Oh, Diego,” she sighed happily, nestling into his chest. “You are so brave and wonderful.”
Diego looked around for Carolina. Had she seen what had just happened? What did she think?
He caught a glimpse of her dark eyes, just long enough to notice sadness and hurt reflected in them. Then she turned and vanished into the crowd of pirates.
“Carolina, wait!” he called.
“Oooh, just over there under that mango tree,” Marcella said, pointing. “That would be perfect. And maybe you could pick me some mangoes before you go running off to defend my honor.”
Furious, Diego dumped Marcella on the grass in the women’s courtyard.
“Hey!” Marcella objected. “Careful! You’ll crush my sari!”
“Stay here,” he said.
“But what about my mangoes?” he heard her wail as he ran back to the crowd of pirates. He couldn’t worry about Marcella now. He had to find Carolina and explain—not to mention fight off the East India Trading Company armada at the same time.
He nearly barreled into Billy Turner as he charged down the stairs to the outer gardens. Billy was fumbling with his pistol, making sure it was loaded.
“I knew this would happen,” Billy remarked. “Jack never goes anywhere without causing trouble. Why do I ever listen to him? I ask you. I’m never getting home at this rate. I’ll never again see my son—little William—”
“Come on, let’s catch up,” Diego said, drawing his sword. They ran across the gardens to the stone stairway that led down to the hidden harbor. There they stopped at the top of the stairs, frozen in horror.
The harbor was teeming with East India Trading Company ships. Pennants with their triple-cross symbol flew from every mast. Marines of the Royal Navy were already swarming up the stone dock and boats were being lowered from the other ships to bring more of them to shore.
Benedict Huntington was leading the charge onto land, slashing the air in front of him with his rapier. Sri Sumbhajee and his pirates rushed down to meet him, shouting curses. They met with a furious clang of steel.
“Where’s Jack?” Diego shouted in Billy’s ear.
Billy scanned the crowd. “I don’t see him.” He sighed heavily. “Which is either a good sign…or a really, really bad one.”
C HAPTER F IFTEEN
T he guards who were normally stationed outside the kitchens had run off to join the fighting. Inside the high-walled courtyard, the cooks were hurrying to clear up so they too could leap into battle.
A head poked through the doors—a head in a very striking hat.
“Excuse me,” said Jack Sparrow. “Could I have some curry?”
The cooks paused, trading bewildered glances.
“Your spiciest vegetable curry,” Jack said. “And lots of it.” He glanced furtively over his shoulder, peering up and down the hall. “You do make curry in this kitchen, don’t you?”
“We have vindaloo,” one of the cooks said nervously. “Or the phaal is even spicier.”
“That,” Jack said. “The falalalalal. All of it.”
A cook lifted a small cauldron off the embers of a dying fire and passed the handle to Jack. Jack reached one finger toward the stew inside of it.
“You—might not want to
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