we could,' he said. 'The grappling hook is still out. We'll have to be careful not to snarl their rigging or rip their sails.'
The unknown ship drove on with all sails set. There was no one on deck, and as the Cloudmaster flew around to the ship's port beam, Kitiara could see that the caravel's wheel was lashed. The sterncastle lights were shuttered, and all the hull ports were closed. On a hot, still day like this, the
'tween decks must be stifling, she thought.
'Let them out now,' Sturm said. Birdcall and Roperig let the sails unfurl, and the flying ship spurted ahead. The swinging grapnel snagged the chain stays of the mainmast, and the Cloudmaster jerked to a stop. They pivoted with the drag and found themselves flying tail-first into the wind, towed by the far heavier caravel.
'Now what?' said Wingover, leaning over the side.
'Someone has to go down and tie us off,' suggested
Sturm. 'I would go, but the grapnel rope is too thin for me.'
'Don't look my way,' Kitiara said. 'I've had all the rope climbing I care for on this trip.'
Fitter agreed to go, since he was small and nimble. He shinnied down the rope to the masthead. Standing on the crosstree, he waved up to his friends.
'Find a heavier line and tie us off!' Sturm bawled. Fitter nodded and slipped down the rigging to the ship's deck. A fat hawser line lay coiled behind the foremast. Fitter shoul dered this burden and climbed back to the Cloudmaster.
'That's my apprentice,' said Roperig proudly.
'Did you see any signs of life down there?' asked Kitiara.
Fitter dumped the hawser off his shoulder. 'No, ma'am.
Everything's neat as can be, but there isn't a soul around.'
Sturm went down into the deckhouse and returned with his sword. He draped the belt over his shoulder and threw one leg over the rail. 'I'd better be first to look around.'
'I'll come behind you,' said Kitiara.
'Me, too,' volunteered Fitter. The other gnomes chimed in in quick succession.
'Someone has to stay on board,' Sturm said. 'You gnomes work it out, but don't all of you come.'
A hundred feet is a long way to climb down a rope. The heat was so bad that Sturm got dizzy halfway along and had to stop to mop the sweat from his eyes. How will I ever climb back up?he wondered. It was a relief when the dark, varnished oak of the yardarm touched his feet. Kitiara wrapped her bare legs around the hawser and started down.
Deck level was just as Fitter had described: tidy and ship shape. Sturm had a bad feeling about it. Sailors did not abandon a well-founded vessel without good reason.
Kitiara dropped down to the deck. Sturm whirled, sword coming out with a whisk of steel.
'Easy!' she said. 'I'm on your side, remember?
'Sorry. This ship has me spooked. Go up the starboard side to the bow. 111 take port.'
They met at the bow, finding nothing amiss except the complete lack of visible crew. There was a hatch behind the bowsprit. Kitiara suggested they go below deck.
'Not yet,' said Sturm. 'Let's chec aft.'
Sighter and Stutts arrived on deck. Sighter carried a car penter's square and Stutts a hammer. These were the only
'weapons' they could find. More than ever they resembled diminutive pirates, boarding an unlucky ship from above.
'F-find anything?' said Stutts.
'Nothing.'
The ship's wheel was firmly tied. It creaked an inch or two left and right as the wind and waves fought against the rud der. Sturm was trying to tell how long the wheel had been fixed when Kitiara drew in her breath sharply.
'Look here,' she said.
Nailed to the wall of the sterncastle was a crow. A stuffed, dead crow with its tail and wings spread.
'I've seen these before. Someone has cast a spell over this ship, and to ward off the evil magic someone put this crow here,' said Kitiara. 'We've got to get out of here.'
'Take it easy,' Sturm said quietly. 'We've seen no signs of magic at work. Let's go inside and see if we can at least iden tify this vessel.'
The louvered door creaked back on bright brass hinges.
Within the sterncastle it was hot and dim. Slivers of light cast weird shadows across the room.
'Stutts, open the shutters, will you?' The gnome made for the row of shades on his right. There was a rustle as he wrestled with the latch. The shutters fell open, flooding the cabin with light.
'So, here's the captain,' said Kitiara grimly.
The master of the caravel still sat at his table, gazing sight lessly through ivory eye sockets. His skull was clean and dry, and the skeletal fingers lying on the tabletop were still joined together. The captain wore a richly made coat of blue brocade, embellished with gold tassels and braid. A final macabre touch was the skeleton of his last meal still on the plate before him. Stutts poked through the tiny bones.
'Chicken,' he announced. 'A h-hen, I should say.'
Sturm sniffed the pewter goblet by the dead man's right hand. There was no obvious trace of poison in the empty cup. He put it down and noticed a slim silver ring around one of the bony fingers. Gently he lifted the skeleton's hand.
Despite his care, the bones fell apart at his touch. Sturm held the ring up to the light, trying to find an inscription or maker's mark. It was a simple, beaded silver band, slightly grimy. It could have been made anywhere by anyone.
Kitiara looked under the table. 'Ho!' she said. 'What's this?' She stood up with a second skull in her hands. 'This was between Captain Bones's feet.' She flipped the skull around. 'Someone chopped this fellow's head off. You can see the axe mark, there.' She set the gruesome relic on the table and bent over again. 'Nice boots,' she reported. 'Sil ver buckles, deerskin tops. He was a dandy.'
'I wonder who he was,' Sturm said.
'M-my!' Stutts was over near the stern lights. He'd found a large leather-bound chest and sprung the simple lock.
Inside were gold coins and scattered jewels. Kitiara whistled and fished out an especially fine emerald.
'Now I understand,' she said. 'This must be a pirate ship.'
'Are you so certain?' said Sighter.
'You don't lay in swag like this trading fish and dry goods!' She threw open a second chest. It was filled to the brim with small wooden boxes. She pried the lid off one and leaned in to see what treasure it contained. Kitiara screwed up her face and gave a mighty sneeze.
'M-mercy!' said Stutts. 'What is it?'
'Spice — pepper!' she wheezed, snapping the lid back on.
Sturm peered over her shoulder.
'Spices are rarer than gold,' he said. 'This chest is proba bly more valuable than the other.'
'Just the same, when we divvy it up, I'll take my share in gold and jewels,' Kitiara said.
'Divvy? I thought you were concerned about the curse.'
'With enough gold in my pocket, I'll face up to all the curses in the world.' Suiting action to her words, she began to fill her pockets with gems and gold.
The cabin door flew open and they all jumped. It was only Rainspot.
'I thought I ought to come down and warn you,' he said.
'There's a storm brewing. It feels like a strong cyclone.'
'Just enough time for a little salvage,' said Kitiara. She leaned against the treasure chest and tried to shift it toward the door. It squeaked a scant inch out of place. 'Don't just stand there, help me!'
'We don't have time for treasure,' Sturm said. 'We've got to get back to the Cloudmaster.'
She stopped shoving and stood up. 'Do we?' she said.
'Do we what?'
