ElsBeth and the Call of the Castle Ghosties, Book III in the Cape Cod Witch Series. Chris Palmer

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      Johnny said he’d heard of some marshes that might be good for that and he was up for exploring them, too.

      Robert had obviously heard enough of this chatter. “Look, I don’t care what you want to do. What we are going to do is search for treasure.”

      “What?” Veronica cut him off. “That’s ridiculous. You said we were going to Martha’s Vineyard.”

      “Not exactly. I said we were going to sail around the islands. We’re not going to Martha’s Vineyard.” Robert pushed back his Black Dog cap. “So, if you girls want to get off, you can take the dinghy. We have more important things to do than go sightseeing like a bunch of stupid tourists. We have work to do. Right, men?”

      Frankie stopped eating his whoopie pie and agreed straight away, but Nelson and Johnny looked embarrassed. They’d clearly forgotten “the plan” when talk had turned to fun on the Vineyard. “Right,” they added weakly.

      Veronica huffed and puffed. She looked like she was about to explode with some powerful arguments, and she could be a mighty arguer, when the wind picked up.

      They all watched as hills ... then cliffs ... then mountains of dark grey clouds swelled on the horizon and marched toward them. Fast. Extremely fast.

      The yacht felt smaller and smaller under the covering sky.

      Onboard no one moved.

      Then, “Life jackets, everyone. Now!” Johnny yelled. Johnny knew weather. He’d been out on the tribe’s fishing boats since before he could walk.

      Lisa Lee looked into the black swirl ahead and called out precisely in her flat, unemotional way, “Force 7 winds.”

      Johnny Twofeathers grabbed some rope and tied it to the mainmast. Nelson followed Johnny’s lead, Frankie helped, and ElsBeth and Veronica joined in. Competent fingers, working quickly, tied ropes to the mast, and to each other.

      ***

      With the activity on deck, the silent black form in the cabin below yawned to life and stretched. “Well, well,” Sylvanas purred. “As I thought. Trouble. And I’m just the cat to get us out of it.”

      Sylvanas hadn’t yet examined the situation in depth, but he wasn’t worried. He’d seen too much and been through too much to get worried too quickly.

      Hillman-Jones had left a meatball sub on the shelf by the bed. Sylvanas pulled it over and started chomping, to give himself strength. But mid-bite he flopped down, and promptly fell back asleep.

      ***

      Above, the ship twisted and crackled in the tossing sea. The wind snapped off the tops of white-capped waves and shot the spray into their bodies like bullets. ElsBeth braced herself and tried to slow down time, to make herself a quiet point in the middle of the wild.

      Lisa Lee peered into the roiling water and shouted her grim calculations over the wind. “The yacht’s probable survival is about zero point five percent, based on projected wave size, wind velocity, and the overall likelihood of being bashed against some rocks.”

      Lisa Lee could be alarmingly negative at times in her cool, logical way.

      “I don’t understand it,” Robert yelled to Johnny. “The forecast was for clear skies. Perfect for treasure hunting.”

      “Yeah,” Johnny yelled back. “Our shortwave radio at home said it was supposed to be an ideal sailing day.”

      As a witch ElsBeth had her own particular sense about the weather, and this wasn’t at all natural.

      She forced her way against the wind over to Johnny. Johnny’s grandfather was a Native American shaman (a word he said his tribe preferred to “medicine man”). In any case, sometimes there were things they both just “knew.”

      She held the rail with one hand and grabbed him with the other. They shared a look, and she could tell Johnny felt it, too — there was something supernatural behind this storm.

      They’d also both been taught the only way to handle a scary situation with anything supernatural was straight-ahead, dead-on. They held tight to the rail and bent into the wind.

      The salt spray stung, but ElsBeth forced her eyes open, then wider when she recognized South Wind.

      Sylvanas had joined her on deck to look around, and they both knew they had to find out from the Wind what was going on. But a wave pushed the Sea Charmer hard, and Sylvanas scampered below. The deck slipped away, and a wall of water crashed over the side.

      ElsBeth was tied to the mast but was still washed half-over the rail. She pulled herself up and scanned the deck. Hillman-Jones was still at the helm, lashed in, but was bent over and holding his side. The wheel must have knocked into him.

      Frankie and Nelson boxed Amy and Veronica between them. Everyone was soaked. Lisa Lee huddled under the mast, now frantically yelling something technical about this “impossible course change.” But Johnny ... where was Johnny Twofeathers?

      There. Behind a rolled sail, on the deck, unmoving.

      ElsBeth shouted to Hillman-Jones but her voice couldn’t carry against the roaring wind. She had to use a little magic. It was really not OK to use magic with other people but this was an emergency.

      She sent a silent streamer of pure intention to Robert with the thought, “Hold on tight, but get Frankie and come forward. We have to get Johnny to the cabin.”

      Robert’s head whipped around and their eyes met.

      Robert was clearly hurt, too, but he scrambled over to Frankie and pointed to the bow. Nothing could be heard over that wind, and ElsBeth hoped Robert didn’t wonder how she’d gotten through to him — but there was no chance to wonder long or much in this storm.

      The boys struggled forward to carry their friend below.

      ***

      ElsBeth led the way into the cabin. Frankie was about to put Johnny’s head on the bunk when a lump under the blanket moved. Frankie froze. He stared spellbound at the shifting shape, and started to back away.

      ElsBeth now heard Frankie’s thoughts in her head.

      “This is sinister! Maybe it’s a headless seaman — like a headless horseman but at sea.”

      Frankie’s thoughts were out of control. His body was, too. His heart boomed and he quivered like Jell-0.

      Robert was holding Johnny’s legs and he couldn’t see why they’d stopped. He tried to push forward. But Frankie was a big guy and he wasn’t going anywhere.

      A rough black form crept slowly from the covers and aimed a green eye straight at Frankie. He squealed.

      Sylvanas turned a lazy head and smiled white teeth at the paralyzed boy.

      ElsBeth was embarrassed when she saw Frankie trying to hold himself from wetting his pants — СКАЧАТЬ