JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

that's it. You know the routine…'

       James finally saw the point where the magical fishing line entered the water. A shape heaved beneath, pushing the waves into a sudden, boiling hill. A line of serrated fins broke the surface and sawed through it, angling toward the Gwyndemere.

       'That can't be good,' Ralph said in a high voice.

       James swallowed, but Barstow seemed grimly pleased.

       'That's my great big girl,' he teased. 'Come to papa, then. Just a little further, that's the way…'

       A monstrous, serpentine shape became visible as it shot beneath the boat, dragging the magical fishing line with it. Barstow whooped happily and swung around as the chair swiveled beneath him, pulled by the massive shape beneath the waves.

       'She's through the harness,' he cried, bracing himself against the chair's foot pedals. 'Hang on tight, everyone!'

'I really wish people would stop saying that,' Ralph moaned, gripping the railing with both hands.

       As if on cue, a horrible shudder shook the boat, jerking it forward in the water. James stumbled but remained upright, clinging staunchly to one of the ship's bollards. Lucy fell backwards against him and James caught her. Her black hair streamed into his face, tickling his cheeks.

       'Sorry James,' she called, glancing back at him over her shoulder and grinning sheepishly. 'I thought I was ready for it.'

James laughed. 'I don't think anybody was ready for that.'

       'We're off!' Albus cried, running toward the prow and peering forward. 'Excellent! She's pulling us! And look how fast we're going!'

       'She can maintain forty knots,' Barstow called down proudly, operating the screws that locked the brass armature in place. 'With bursts of ninety if required. She's the fastest of all her sisters, if you ask me.'

       'Is she really a sea serpent?' Izzy asked, raising her hand to her forehead and studying the waves that roared under the ship's prow. 'I can't see anything but a sort of froth up there by her head. That's her head, right?'

       'It's her cranial fin,' Barstow nodded. 'And that there's Henrietta, the great Atlantean razorback. Biggest and longest of the sea beasts. Good thing she's on our side, eh? Back in the old days, creatures like her were real ship-eaters. Now, there's only a few left in the whole world. Worth more than her own weight in Galleons, she is.'

       'How do you steer her?' Albus asked, glancing back at the pole. 'And how's that little bit of wood hold her?'

       Barstow laughed. 'That's just the lead,' he explained, calling over the rushing wind. 'We use it like reins on a horse, turning her this way and that. The real muscle is underneath the boat. She's attached to us by an iron harness and a length of anchor chain. That's what I was teasing her through, and that's the only tricky part. From here on out, it's smooth sailing.'

       In a concerned voice, Izzy asked, 'Doesn't Henrietta ever get tired?'

       'She ain't like us, love,' Barstow replied, squinting toward the horizon. 'She could take us the whole way and back with barely a breath. But we'll stop and feed her once or twice along the way, give her the breathers she deserves. After all, she's the queen of the voyage, isn't she?' He smiled lovingly at the great beast as it carved the waves.

       'What about the big gorilla?' Ralph asked. 'Doesn't he get bored?'

       'See for yourself!' Barstow called down, hooking a thumb over his shoulder.

James, Lucy, and Ralph turned to look back. The bow's huge cargo doors were thrown open in the sunlight. Peering up out of them, resting his chin on his crossed arms, was the great ape. His black fur rippled in the wind and he blinked slowly, apparently enjoying the sense of speed and the rushing air.

       'He'll be like that the whole rest of the trip,' Barstow commented without looking back. 'Nothing we can do about it. The great brute's happy to let somebody else do the work from here on out. He's like a dog in a carriage window, isn't he?'

            Gwyndemere was only half an hour into her long journey when a whistle pierced the air high overhead. James, who was still on the prow with Ralph and Lucy, glanced up. The mate in the crow's nest had his spyglass to his eye again, extended to such an extent that it almost seemed to defy gravity. 'Ship spotted at two o' the clock!' he bellowed, pointing.

       'Ah, this doesn't bode well,' Barstow announced.

       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.'