Chapter 17

17

JULY 24, 1727 FLORIDA COAST

The Ocean Curse was anchored in the Indian River on the coast of Florida, beside a long, narrow barrier island. I stood on board as the pirate crew prepared to launch the boats that would take us through the Indian River inlet and then up the shore to where they believed the flagship of the 1715 Spanish Treasure Fleet, the Capitana , was rumored to have sunk.

It had been almost two weeks since Lewis had come to my parents' home—and that was the last time I'd seen him. No more news about Annie Barker. No more visits from our old family friend.

Just silence.

I hoped his silence meant he was busy looking for her, but I had a feeling he was also staying away to protect his heart. My own broke every time I thought about our conversation.

Timothy appeared beside me as he leaned on the rail and watched the pirates move the diving bell onto the launch boat. The diving bell was made of wood, like an oversized barrel sawed in half and sitting upside down. It was about five feet tall and four feet wide with two small windows near the top. A long hose connected the bell to a manual pump sitting on the launch, which would be used to push air into the structure as I was underwater. A valve near the top of the bell would release used air, allowing me to remain below the surface for hours, if necessary.

"Are you scared?" Timothy asked me.

"Petrified."

Marcus stood on the quarterdeck, his feet planted and his arms crossed. He'd tried, in vain, for the past two weeks to convince Captain Zale not to make me dive. He'd offered to go down in my place, but the captain refused to listen. And, seeing the diving bell, I knew why. It was tiny, and I was the smallest person on board the ship.

Hawk had tried to put Marcus's worries to rest by assuring him that there would be no complications. As long as the pump worked and I had access to the recovery rope to signal those on the launch to bring me up, I would be fine.

I only wished I was confident in the limited training Hawk had given me. Not only had he instructed me about the bell, but he had given me clues to look for in identifying the Capitana , which had once been a British vessel named the Hampton Court . He said there were several shipwrecks on this coastline, and I needed to be sure I was looking for the right one.

"Is there any treasure even left out there?" I asked Timothy.

"Eleven ships went down with the Spanish Treasure Fleet that year," he said. "And only a few of them were found. But not the flagship, and that one had the biggest treasure of all."

"The Queen's Dowry," I said. "But why was there so much treasure being moved at one time?"

"Because Spain and France had been at war with England and Scotland for over ten years and Spain didn't want the treasure ships to cross the ocean from Cuba, afraid they'd be taken by their enemies. By 1715, the war had ended, and the king of Spain needed the treasure to pay his debts."

"And then a hurricane came up and destroyed all but one of the ships, sinking millions of pounds' worth of gold, silver, and gemstones," I finished.

"Over a thousand people perished, too."

"How do you know so much about this?" I asked him as I took my gaze off the bell.

Timothy shrugged. "My father told me. At first, it was just the Spaniards and the survivors of the hurricane who were salvaging the fortune. They camped out on the beach and lived here for months. But when word got out, people came from all over the world to take the treasure. Hundreds of sailors had been working as privateers for the king of England to aid the British during the war. They would overtake Spanish and French ships for England and steal their cargo, seize their vessels, and take their men. But since the war ended, the privateers were out of work. They came to Florida to see what they could take from their former enemies. Sometimes they scavenged the ocean floor; other times, they stole treasure that had already been recovered, right from the Spaniards. It was the birth of the Pirate Republic. Many of the men who came set up bases in Nassau or Port Royal, Jamaica, after that."

"Is that how Captain Zale got his start?" I whispered.

"No. He'd been pirating for a while before that, but my father told me that Captain Zale came here with all the others."

"How did your father know so much about this?"

Timothy's ruddy face was redder than normal as he said, "He was one of the pirates. But he accepted the King's Pardon and went home." He paused as he shook his head in dismay. "I wonder what he would think if he knew I was on a pirate ship, in the very same waters where his piracy began twelve years ago?"

I could imagine the activity on this stretch of coastline at that time. The desperation of the Spaniards, the excitement of the privateers turned pirates, and the uncertainty of the natives who stood nearby watching.

The wind tugged at the ship, though the sails were down, and the anchor held it in place. The bright sunshine was blinding and had tanned my skin to a deep brown.

I couldn't stop thinking about what was waiting beneath the water for me. The thought of treasure was darkened by the threat of sharks—and death. I wasn't afraid of swimming, but I didn't like tight spaces or not getting enough air. The worst thought, though, was not finding the treasure. The Spaniards and the pirates had looked for it for several years after the hurricane. What made Captain Zale think we'd find it now?

Heavy footsteps sounded behind me, and I turned to find Marcus approaching, which caused Timothy to leave.

"You don't need to do this," Marcus said for my ears alone, his brogue thick.

"And how would I get out of it now?"

"I'll dive."

Shaking my head, I leaned on the railing that Timothy had just vacated. "People have been diving for centuries. Mayhap I'll be good at it."

I was trying to lessen the tension that seemed to coil around Marcus, but I could see it wasn't working. He took a step closer to me. "As soon as we're able, I'll get you away from this ship, lass. I promise. I'd have tried already if I thought it was safe."

"I know." I straightened to face him.

The concern was etched so deeply into his brows that I wanted to reach out and smooth it away.

"I'll be watching the recovery rope closely, every moment you're underwater. If you have any trouble, don't hesitate to pull it."

I nodded, feeling sober and terrified again. I wanted to change the course of the conversation, so I said, "Why does Captain Zale think this is the spot? Hasn't it been searched before?"

"We've searched this entire coast," Marcus said, crossing his arms. "But we couldn't go deeper until we acquired the diving bell. You'll be searching new depths."

Hawk's approach brought our conversation to an end. "We're ready for you."

Without another word, Marcus and I followed Hawk to the launch boat, and I climbed aboard. There were only a handful of men who would leave the ship. Hawk, Marcus, me, and three others that Marcus had chosen. He trusted each of these men with his life—and with mine. The rest would stay on the Ocean Curse to watch for navy patrols or the elusive Atlantis , which we had not yet encountered, though the ship was rumored to be in the area.

The launch boat rocked in the gentle river. I stood next to the diving bell as the men rowed downriver and then through the inlet and out into the ocean.

"How deep will I go?" I asked Hawk.

"About thirty meters."

I blinked several times. Thirty meters was almost a hundred feet. "Will I be able to see anything at that depth?"

"You should have no trouble."

"Some of the ships sunk in such shallow waters," Marcus said to me, "that their masts were visible for several years after the hurricane. Others, like the Capitana , were so mangled by the reefs and the pounding waves that much of the wreckage sank to the bottom of the ocean, making it difficult to locate."

It took almost an hour to row to the location the captain wanted me to search. My nerves were so frayed, I could hardly concentrate on what Hawk was telling me as he offered last-minute instructions.

The crew lowered the large anchor and then waited for me. I would get into the water first and then position myself so they could move the heavy diving bell over me. There were bags of sand tied to the bottom to make it sink, and I needed to be inside it before its descent, or I wouldn't get a chance once it was on the bottom of the ocean. I could never hold my breath long enough to swim one hundred feet down to the bell.

Turning my back to the crew, I removed my shoes, socks, and hat, then I unbuttoned the vest and set it aside. The thought of what creatures might be under the water terrified me, but I wouldn't show my fear to Marcus. He was already watching me closely. If I gave any indication that I was afraid, he'd do something foolish to stop this from happening.

"Ready?" Hawk asked.

I nodded and then jumped into the ocean without a second thought.

The water was cool against my skin, but a welcome relief from the heat. Panic threatened to choke me as I positioned myself next to the launch and they pushed the heavy diving bell to the edge of the boat.

With one fleeting glance at Marcus, I dipped underneath and was surrounded by the musty smell of wood.

The diving bell scratched the floor of the launch as they pushed it off the rest of the way.

It immediately began to sink, so I climbed onto the small bench built into the side of the bell.

The pressure of the air inside kept the water level around my feet, and within seconds the windows of the bell sank beneath the ocean, disrupting my view of the bright blue sky.

I tried to breathe normally as the diving bell lowered farther and farther down. I watched my feet to look for sharks or other dangerous creatures but saw nothing except for the occasional colorful fish. I prayed I wasn't directly over the sunken ship. If the bell fell onto a mast, I would be impaled, or at the very least, it would ruin the diving bell, so the water would begin to leak in and drown me.

A hundred different thoughts filled my head as I tried not to panic.

It became darker and darker the lower I descended, but there was still enough light to see the ocean floor when the bell finally came to a stop. I was breathing so heavily, I felt like I might suffocate. I put my hand to the hole at the top where the air came through the hose and felt a steady stream, offering only a little reassurance.

Outside the windows, the bubbles from the descent began to clear, and I had a view of my surroundings. Remains from a ship were evident, though it had been torn apart, as Hawk had said about the Capitana . Several cannons littered the sandy floor of the ocean, resting on old coral, rocks, and debris. A bit of coral had begun to form on the metal, and small, colorful fish were swimming around it.

This could be the site of the Capitana 's demise, but it could also be another ship.

I tried to survey the wreckage from my vantage point before I would take a deep breath and leave the bell to investigate further. If this was the Capitana , I needed to be sure.

Even if it was, there was no way to know where the treasure might be sitting.

Part of the hull of a ship was just visible to my left, sticking out of the sand at an odd angle. It was as good as any place to start my search.

Taking a deep breath, I slipped off the narrow bench, and my bare feet hit the sandy bottom. Bits of dead coral poked into my flesh, but I didn't mind. What I was more afraid of was losing my way on the ocean floor, getting disoriented, and not finding my way back to the bell to get air. If the bell wasn't so heavy, I might move it toward the wreckage, but it had taken several men to move it on the launch. I would be no match for its weight.

It was time to start my search.

I took another deep breath, filling my lungs as much as possible. The sandbags created a space about eighteen inches wide between the ocean floor and the bottom of the bell. I dove under the edge of the bell and into the ocean.

My eyes burned from the salt water, and it was hard to keep them open, but I didn't have much time before I'd need to go back for air.

Panic tried to overwhelm me as I scoured the wreckage for signs of identifying the ship and, ultimately, finding the treasure.

When my lungs felt like they would burst, I made my way back to the bell and took several deep breaths before I went back out.

It was almost impossible to identify the ship. It was spread out over the ocean floor and in so many pieces, I couldn't make out the masthead, the shape of the hull, or any other definitive features. Repeatedly, for what felt like hours, I combed the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, staying close enough to the bell to return for air when my lungs wanted to give out.

Finally, after dozens of trips, my gaze landed on something that sparkled like gold.

Thirty minutes later, I pulled on the recovery rope, my heart pounding hard as I cradled the pieces of eight in my hands. I'd never felt so exhausted, yet the elation at my discovery gave me a surge of energy.

I sat on the bench inside the bell, breathing hard. On the last few excursions to the wreckage, I had pushed myself to the point of recklessness as I recovered the gold coins.

The bell began to rise through the water at a slower pace than it had fallen. But I was on my way up again, and I had something to show for my efforts.

When the windows of the bell revealed that I had come to the surface, the first person I saw was Marcus. The fear and concern on his face filled my heart with joy. The delight at discovering the treasure from the Capitana was nothing compared to the exhilaration I felt seeing the apprehension in his eyes and knowing it was for my welfare.

My white cotton shirt was sticking to my binding, showing every curve that I had been trying to hide for weeks. I probably looked like a wet dog, with clumps of hair hanging around my face. My burning eyes were probably red and swollen from being open in the salt water. Even now, they were blurry and felt like they were on fire. As soon as I could, I'd need to rinse them with fresh water.

Holding the coins close, I dove into the water and then came up outside of the bell, my head bobbing on the surface of the ocean. I couldn't help but grin as they all looked to me for an answer.

"I found gold!" I yelled. "There is treasure just nine meters or so in that direction." I nodded with my head since my hands were full. "Here. Take these pieces of eight." I set my hands on the launch and opened them to let the coins spill out.

An uproarious cheer came from the pirates as they rushed to the edge to look at the gold.

All but Marcus, who reached for me.

I took his hands and allowed him to help me from the water. He looked so relieved, as if he wanted to pull me into his arms for reassurance, but his gaze took in my form, and he quickly looked away.

I pulled at the clinging shirt and grabbed my vest to put it on with trembling hands, though it would soon be soaked. It would at least give me some semblance of modesty. Thankfully, the others were so busy examining the coins, they didn't pay attention to me.

When I turned back to Marcus, he shook his head, his lips turning up in a smile. "That was the longest three hours of my life," he said quietly, as the others celebrated the discovery of gold.

"Three hours?" I had no idea I'd been down there so long.

"Aye." He took a deep breath, as if he'd been holding it the entire time.

The temperature was colder than I remembered—or perhaps my body felt cool from the water—and I began to shiver.

"Are you alright?" Marcus asked as the crew began to pull the diving bell out of the water and onto the launch.

I nodded. "Just a little cold and dizzy."

I sat on the floor of the boat and wrapped my arms around my knees, setting my forehead on top of them. I couldn't seem to stop shaking, and soon my stomach began to turn with nausea.

Without warning, I needed to vomit, so I leaned over the side of the boat and let the contents of my stomach release. But I didn't feel any better when I was done. The world was spinning faster and faster.

Marcus knelt beside me, calling orders to his men to make haste to the ship.

And then my world went black.

The next thing I knew, my eyes fluttered open, and I was in Marcus's alcove bed on board the Ocean Curse . My head pounded, and my stomach was still nauseous, but not nearly as bad. Everything hurt. My muscles, my joints, and my chest as I tried to take a deep breath.

He sat on one of his chairs, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his head bent, as if in prayer. Outside, it was dark, but in his cabin, the soft glow of the lantern gave me the opportunity to see the anguished lines of his body.

"What happened?" I whispered, finding my voice didn't want to work.

He looked up quickly. His face was just as ravaged by fear as the rest of him. He took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. "I didn't know if you'd live. Dr. Hartville was here to see you. He bled you and told me that if you didn't wake up by morning, you wouldn't ever wake up again."

I felt the bandage around my left arm where he'd likely bled me. It was a practice rarely used in 1927 and for good reason. But I'd woken up. Perhaps it had been useful.

"How long have I been unconscious?"

"Only a few hours."

"What happened?" I asked again.

"Dr. Hartville called it diving sickness. Some people get ill minutes or even hours after they come to the surface. He doesn't know why it happens to some and not others, but 'tis more common the longer you stay beneath the water. And if you have it once, you're more likely to get it a second time. He said you can't dive again, or it would kill you."

I tried to absorb all he was telling me, but I couldn't stop thinking about the pressure of his hand, or how thankful I was that he had stayed by my side. I felt too weak to fight the emotions that were welling up inside me, afraid I would say something I shouldn't.

Instead, I pulled my hand from his and placed it on my clammy brow. "Did Dr. Hartville discover—"

"Aye. He knows you're a woman now. It was impossible to keep it from him as he examined you. But you needn't worry. Your secret is safe with him. He won't tell the captain, though he gave me a stern lecture."

"A lecture?" I frowned.

Marcus slowly lifted his hand to my brow and moved aside a tendril of my hair. When his gaze met mine, I lost my breath, and this time, it scared me more than being beneath the ocean waves.

"He said I'm to take care of you, to not mistreat you, or—" He paused as embarrassment colored his voice. "Let's just say he has nothing to worry about."

A noise outside Marcus's cabin made him pull away from me. A second later, the door opened, and Captain Zale appeared. He wore his black, formidable clothing and his sword at his side.

My pulse pounded hard, and I wondered if Dr. Hartville had told the captain after all.

Marcus stood as the captain walked in, uninvited.

"Is he awake?" the captain demanded.

"Aye. Just now." There was venom in Marcus's voice, directed at the captain.

"Good. I need to know everything I can about the Capitana ."

"Did Dr. Hartville tell you that Carl can never dive again?"

"Bah," the captain said as he approached me. "What does Hartville know? He still hasn't cured what ails me. I've thought of tossing him overboard many times."

I had wondered myself about the captain's ailment. From all appearances, he seemed hearty and hale, yet he kept the doctor close at hand.

"He knows about this," Marcus said, not backing down. "If Carl dives again, it will kill him. We'll need to send someone else."

"That doesn't concern me now. What I want is to know what the boy saw down there." He stopped near Marcus's bed and stared at me. Though I was covered under the blankets, I shivered again. "Tell me what you saw, boy."

I needed to obey his commands, or I would face the conse quences. So I told him everything from the moment I landed on the bottom of the ocean floor until I came up again.

Perhaps it would be enough. I had done the thing for which he'd taken me captive. Maybe he would let me leave the ship now.

But that meant leaving Marcus.