G. Lippert - JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

Lucy squinted up at Barstow. To James and Ralph, she said, "I can't help but notice that he's smiling when he says that."

"It's just that weird seafaring sense of humor," Ralph replied. "Like jolly songs about all your dead mates and zombie pirates and the like. They seem to have a sort of skewed perspective on life, don't they?"

High above, his voice thin in the whipping winds, the mate in the crow's nest called again. "Ship is a triple-mast clipper, bearing the sigil of the Three-Eyed Isis ."

Barstow whistled appreciatively between his teeth. "The Three-Eyed Isis . That's bad, that is. Best to get below-decks, my young friends. This could get fierce."

"What's a Three-Eyed Isis?" James asked, leaning on the railing and shielding his eyes from the sun. Sure enough, a dark shape bobbed on the horizon, apparently tracking the Gwyndemere .

"That's the ship of the pirate Hannibal Farson, Terror of the Seven Seas. Looks like we're in for a wee tussle."

"Hannibal Farson isn't the Terror of the Seven Seas," the crow's nest mate called down, still scanning the horizon with his spyglass. "You're thinking of Captain Dirk Dread. That's Farson the Fearsome, Fright of the Atlantic."

Barstow nodded. "Ah, right you are, Brinks! No argument there. Hard to keep 'em all straight, isn't it?"

"If yeh're talking real terrors," a third voice called out, carrying on the wind, "then it's Rebekah Redboots yeh're thinkin' of. As beastly as she is lovely. Just as quick to kill yeh as to look at yeh, but you'd die happy, havin' gazed upon 'er deadly beauty."

Barstow and Brinks murmured their wistful agreement.

"Is that a ship over there?" Petra asked, approaching James and peering at the horizon.

"Pirates, apparently," James nodded. "Only it sounds like it's going to be a bit of a reunion, really."

Lucy looked from the distant ship to Barstow where he sat on his high brass chair. She called up, "What are they after anyway?"

"Oh, lots of stuff, love," Barstow answered enthusiastically. "Passenger jewels and money, the captain's safe, valuable cargo that they can resell on the wizarding black market…"

"And don't forget the women," Brinks added loudly. "They'll be after the women, for sure."

"But don't you worry, my pretties," Barstow said soothingly. "They'll treat you with the greatest of respect and decorum. It's the pirate way, you know, all dashing and debonair. Oftentimes, the women caught by pirates don't even want to be rescued, when it comes right down to it. Why, I knew of whole ships full of available ladies what set sail just in the hopes of being caught up by a band of the watery rogues." He sighed deeply.

"Unless it be Rebekah Redboots," the third mate's voice speculated. "Then they'd be after the men-folk, likely."

"Aye…," Brinks and Barstow agreed soberly. After a long thoughtful moment, Barstow went on. "Most likely, though, they're after Henrietta. Like I said, she's worth her weight in Galleons. Sea serpents are terrible hard to come by anymore, and every pirate captain out there is dead jealous to get one. Makes 'em unbeatable, even by the coppers from the Magical Maritimers'."

At that moment, Albus ran up, his hair whipping wildly in the wind. "Hey everybody, Uncle Percy says we need to all get below-decks, captain's orders! There might be a 'skirmish', he says!"

"Cool," James grinned, matching his brother's obvious excitement. "Are you really going to go down and miss all the fun?"

"Normally no," Albus admitted, "but Mum knows how we are. She's asked Captain Farragut if we can watch everything from the big windows in his quarters. Best view on the whole ship, he says, and there'll be biscuits and tea!"

"Your mum really knows how to handle a bribe," Petra said appreciatively. "Better hurry on down. And get Izzy, if you would. She's in our cabin, drawing pictures."

James glanced at Petra, and then turned to the others. "Go on," he said. "I'll catch up in a minute."

"Mum will leather you with a hex if you stay up here," Albus said, tilting his head knowledgeably. "But feel free. More biscuits for me. Come on, Lu. Where's Ralph?"

"He headed below-decks the moment you mentioned a skirmish," Lucy answered, nodding toward the stairs. She turned back to James. "You want me to wait with you?"

"No, go ahead, Lu. I just want to watch a minute. I'll be right there."

Lucy gazed at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. "All right. See you in the captain's quarters. You too, Petra?"

"Sure," the older girl answered. "And thanks for gathering Izzy. Tell her to bring her crayons and parchments if she wants. Once she gets drawing, it can be hard to get her to stop."

Lucy nodded and turned to follow Albus.

"She's closing in on us," Brinks called, watching the horizon with his spyglass. "Matching our speed and angling to meet us dead on."

"That I can see, mate," Barstow answered amiably, gripping the pole before him. "But she won't match us for long! Let's open things up a bit."

James felt the subtle lift of the boat beneath him as Henrietta picked up speed. Waves clapped beneath the prow and exploded into sparkling mist, which flashed past the boat with dizzying speed. The Three-Eyed Isis began to fall past, but only very slowly. The pirate's ship was near enough now that James could see men moving around on the decks. The image on the mainsail was visible: a fanged skull with three gaping eyes. As James watched, the eyes narrowed and the skull chomped, as if it meant to swallow the Gwyndemere up.

"Did you read the dream story yet?" Petra asked, not taking her eyes from the rushing pirate ship.

"No, not yet," James admitted. "I haven't had much of a chance. Tonight, I think."

She nodded slowly. "I appreciate it. Talk to me after you do. All right?"

James glanced aside at her. "Sure. Why wouldn't I?"

She shrugged. "You might not want to."

James shook his head. "I'll want to. I promise."

"She's angling for a broadside strike," Brinks called down. "She's not as fast as us, so she's aiming to cut us off before we outrun 'er."

"Hard a-port," Barstow answered, turning the directional pole aside. Henrietta responded immediately, turning to the left, pulling the Gwyndemere away from the advancing pirate ship.

A low whistle and a burst of black sparks exploded over the left side of the ship, making Barstow jump and turn hard right again. James wouldn't have thought black sparks were even possible until he saw them swirling over the deck and fading into the rushing wind.

"Another ship!" Brinks cried from the crow's nest. "Ten o' the clock, approaching fast! Looks like the Scarlet Mist !"

"The Scarlet Mist?" Barstow repeated incredulously. "That means the two are working together, and that can only mean one thing!"

James ran to the other side of the prow and peered into the distance, immediately spying the second ship. Its red sails and black hull roared through the water, cutting the waves like a sword. "What's it mean?" he yelled over the wind.

"It means they're engaging in the old Vice and Quarry maneuver," Barstow answered. "Very risky, that is." Raising his voice, he called up to Brinks. "Keep an eye afore us, mate! Where there's two, there's three!"

"Already a-spied it," Brinks hollered, leaning forward in the crow's nest, his spyglass clapped to his eye. "It's the Poseidon's Peril , I'd wager."

Barstow whistled between his teeth again and shook his head. "Not good, my friends. Not good at all. I wonder what could possibly get all three of those salty dogs to work together? Surely not a single sea serpent. They'd just kill each other fightin' over her."

Another burst of black sparks rocked the Gwyndemere from the left. James felt the shudder of the blast beneath his feet. He was becoming rather alarmed. Petra, on the other hand, seemed strangely calm. James crossed the deck again and stood next to her. Even now, he was pleased that, despite their age difference, he was as tall as she was. Her long hair flew in the wind. A series of orange flashes appeared along the flank of the Three-Eyed Isis . A split second later, the Gwyndemere shook under a barrage of magical blasts.