Happily Ever Awkward (The H.E.A. Files, #1)(35)

“Maybe. Maybe not. But you have to try.”

“I did. I did try. And we almost died. All of us. Who am I kidding? This is crazy. It’s over, Jack. It’s just… over. Let’s go home.”

Jack ignored him and pulled the ornate lever back into the off position. In response, the Sphinx’s jaws clamped shut over the paddle wheel and the paws folded themselves back along the sides of the ship. The Sargasso Sphinx once again looked almost like a normal ship.

“Would you believe that once upon a time I was a Knight of the Oblong Shield?” Jack asked.

“You?” Paul did not even attempt to hide his shock.

“Yes, me. Why does everyone always say that?” Jack looked out across the sea and his eyes filled with distant memories. “I was good. Yeah, I was a guardian of peace and justice, all that stuff. Then they got him.” He bowed his head for a moment before continuing. “Come here, I want to show you something.”

He led Paul down into his cabin where all the parchment clippings about the death of Sir Whitethorne plastered the walls.

“Think,” Jack said. “Who stood to gain the most from Whitethorne’s death? It was Captain Head and the pirates. Whitethorne was just about to destroy them, so they destroyed him first. Makes perfect sense! But it’s even bigger than that—”

“Jack, what does this have to do with rescuing Luscious?” Paul asked.

Jack ignored him and pointed to a yellowing piece of parchment on which someone had drawn a primitive charcoal sketch. In coarse strokes, it appeared to depict the image of what might have been an archer standing on a distant slope. Beside the possible archer was an even hazier shape that might have been another man, but could just as easily have been a bush.

“Why are you showing me this?” Paul asked.

“Because there was someone else involved, too,” Jack concluded. He pointed at the bush-man. “See?”

“That’s just a drawing… of a bush.”

Jack gave a large, knowing nod. “Exactly. I’m telling you, this cover-up goes all the way to the top!”

Paul took a little step back toward the steps. “You… you sound a little crazy, Jack.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, and Paul could hear the sadness in his voice. “Yeah, the emperor said the same thing right before he stripped me of my knighthood and called me a paranoid disgrace. I had to prove he was wrong — that everyone was wrong — which is why I stole a treasure chest from the pirates—”

“What?” Paul cried. “You did what?!”

“—bought this ship, and started looking for evidence. I figure I must be onto something — why else would the pirates want me so dead?”

“Uh… maybe because you stole their treasure?” Paul suggested.

Jack stopped talking. He stared at Paul and didn’t blink, not once. As the silence dragged on, Paul wondered how anyone could go so long without blinking. Whether it was the silence or the lack of blinks that got to him, Paul could finally bear no more and said, “So why should I believe you?”

“Why?”

Mercifully, Jack blinked at last.

Paul sighed a sigh of relief he hadn’t known he’d been holding in.

Reaching under his tunic, Jack pulled out something suspended from a chain around his neck — an arrowhead shaped like a lightning bolt.

“Why should you believe me?” Jack repeated. “Because I know. I was there. I was supposed to be guarding him. I saw him die. I saw this kill him.”

Paul felt as if that arrow had just pierced his own heart. “You were… when he died… you were actually with him? With Sir Whitethorne? But… if… then if you know all that, if you know the pirates killed Sir Whitethorne, just testify against them and end it. He deserves justice!”

Jack shook his head. “I know he does. I know, but I can’t. I never found a shred of evidence to actually link the pirates to that arrow. And without evidence, all I can do is hide and hope they don’t shut my blowhole for good.”

“So you’re just giving up?” Paul asked.

Jack looked him right in the eyes. “You are.”

That stopped Paul. “I… that’s different. I’m cursed.”

“We’re all cursed, one way or another.”

“No,” Paul persisted. “You don’t understand. I’m really cursed. A witch—”

Jack waved him off. “Call it whatever you want, but it’s better to be cursed than to wind up like me. Look.” He gestured at the ship around them. “I’m a joke. I know that. When the pirates destroyed the chivalry of Whitethorne, they took my life with it. But you… it’s not too late to be a hero. Stand up to what scares you. Stand up no matter what.”

Paul returned Jack’s gaze. For the first time, he didn’t feel the need to look away from someone. “You know… you’re not quite as crazy as you seem.”

“Hey, thanks. I appreciate that.”

Paul sighed. “Okay, fine. Let’s go find some Flitterlings.”

As the two men turned to ascend the stairs, Laura ducked from the hatch before either of them noticed she had been there.





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