Across The Sea Read Online Free Page B

their grip.
    Francis fell face first toward
the deck. He put his hands out. His open palms slapped against wood
as he landed. The men exploded in laughter. The grip on his ankle
let go, and Francis sped-crawled through the many legs and feet
surrounding him.
    The men laughed even more at
his gusto.
    “Do not let him get away!” he
heard someone yell.
    But where could he go? He was
trapped on a ship out at sea. Francis got to his feet and ran.
Ahead of him, other crew members were washing the deck.
    The group from the crate chased
after him. “Catch that boy!” they yelled, between guffaws.
    Francis looked up and saw a
shoreline. It’s not that far. I can swim there…
    He sprinted past one crew
member rolling a barrel. The crew member launched the barrel at
him. Francis halted for a split second as it careened across in
front of him. A man behind him reached out. Francis swivelled,
changing direction, and jumped over the gunwale, and off the ship,
falling feet first toward the water below.
    His body felt suspended in
midair, and then splashed into the ocean. Panicked, he swam out as
fast as he could.
    As men splattered into the
water behind Francis, one man remained dry, stepping to the edge of
the ship with a dogged look in his green eyes. He wore a
wide-brimmed, brown hat, and his long hair, which was rusty in
colour, was tied in a tail at the back. His face was shaved, and
smooth, but for a deep scar beginning halfway on his forehead,
curving down to his right cheek.
    Captain Gustavo Leonard.
    “That boy is not to get away,”
he warned his crew.
    * * *
    Three boys and a girl were
sailing makeshift boats around the corner of a rocky shoreline,
their vessels made from the wood of old barrels and their sails
from worn linen. They lived in the nearby village of Pond Vale
Isle. The three boys were brothers, all with red hair, their ages
ranging from ten to fourteen. Their cousin, Lily, was eleven, with
long, sun-bleached, stringy hair and big, round, brown eyes, and
wearing a frayed smock of a dress with a few rips in it. She lived
with her cousins and had taught them all how to build their own
boats and sail them. Mallon, who was fourteen, stocky, and her
eldest cousin, had once told her that girls have no business doing
what boys do. This school of thought, however, was meaningless to
Lily.
    As they sailed around the
corner, they all came into view of a ship with red sails. Mallon’s
eyes widened.
    The Red Mist.
    The mere mention of her name in
Pond Vale Isle made grown men forget how to breathe.
    All three boys and Lily stared
at her, spellbound.
    “Help me!”
    It was the voice of a child.
The children scanned the water’s surface, and spotted a boy
swimming ahead of a group of men.
    “Turn around!” Mallon yelled to
his brothers. “Turn your boats around!”
    All three brothers shifted
their sails, making their boats turn in the opposite direction,
back around the rocky corner.
    Lily, however, kept sailing
ahead.
    “Lily!” Mallon yelled. “Turn
your boat around! Are you mad? They’re pirates!”
    * * *
    In the water, Francis swam for
his life. He glanced toward the children he had just seen on tiny
sailboats. All were sailing away. Francis felt abandoned. He heard
splashing. He turned, and felt an oversized hand clench his
shoulder.
    Pirates crowded him, reaching
out with their hands. Francis breathed with difficulty then,
feeling like all the men around him were sucking up the air and
leaving none for him.
    He turned to the burly pirate
holding him – smack ! – as a heavy, cloth bag cuffed the man
in the head.
    “Ho!” screamed the pirate.
    A hand grabbed Francis’ own and
pulled. Francis looked up, and saw Lily’s big, round eyes, her
stringy hair. He latched onto the gunwale of her boat and hoisted
himself up. Lily repositioned herself to shift her sail, gliding on
the water’s surface at top speed. The pirates ducked their heads
into the water, fearing injury from the swift vessel.
    Francis,