Gordon Korman: The Danger

She stepped back and admired the effect. “This is the figurehead from the bow of the Griffin . If your ancestor floated ashore on part of it, then he was from that ship.” She looked at him long and hard. “The Griffin was English, which means you are, too. Your family legend — it’s all true.”

Menasce Gérard was not often overwhelmed, but this was one of those times. At last, he managed, “You American teenagers—”

“I’m Canadian,” Kaz reminded him.

“You bring me my history,” the guide persisted. “I — I have no way to repay you.”

Star regarded him solemnly. “I think saving our lives a thousand times probably counts.”

English gazed at their faces as if committing each one to memory. “I will never forget you.” The giant stood there for a moment awkwardly, and then opened his arms.

There was room for all four of them.

Samuel came awake with the piece of the wooden figurehead still clutched in his arms, and the gritty taste of sand in his mouth. He shook himself and sat up, spitting and choking.

Alive! he thought. He had not expected to be so.

He took in his surroundings — a beach, palm trees, a pleasant floral scent on a tropical breeze.

An island.

Captain Blade was right about one thing, he thought. I am lucky.

He stood up, shaking with hunger and thirst, and spied a village just in from the beach. He could smell food cooking. Children played among the huts.

Now several people were heading his way. They resembled the natives Samuel had seen along the coastline around Portobelo. They reached him, exclaimed over him, brought him water.

“I’m English,” he tried to explain, pointing to himself. “English.”

They did not understand, nor could he make sense of their strange words. But the message of welcome was clear. The feeling that welled up inside him was something close to joy.

Samuel Higgins had never belonged anywhere. But this was a place where a young man could make a life for himself. Start a family.

Leave a legacy.

The X-ray machine at Martinique airport picked up the strange object in Star’s duffel bag. Security officers swarmed from all directions. Star and her three traveling companions were pulled aside into the restricted area, and a search of the luggage began.

The agent in charge rummaged around the bag and pulled out the carved whalebone handle that had once belonged to Captain James Blade of His Majesty’s privateer fleet.

“I totally forgot about that thing!” Star exclaimed.

And then the huge stone inset above the initials J.B. caught the light and flashed deep green fire at them. The interns stared at it, mouths agape. This was the first time they had seen it free of its encrustation of coral. It was magnificent.

A junior agent pointed urgently at the brilliant display. “Monsieur — regardez! The gem!”

With disinterested eyes, the inspector looked from the four teens in shorts to this huge garish stone.

“Do not be ridiculous,” he chided his subordinate. “It cannot be real. An emerald that size would be worth two million dollars!”

With a snort of disgust, he tossed the artifact back into Star’s duffel, and passed the interns through.

“Souvenir tourist junk!”

Copyright © 2003 by Gordon Korman.

All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc.

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First printing, August 2003

Photography: Kelly La Duke

Cover design: Ursula S. Albano

e-ISBN 978-0-545-62813-6

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