The claim filed on behalf of the four teenage interns, who had discovered not one but two seventeenth-century shipwrecks, was rejected by the International Maritime Commission.
Tad Cutter and Chris Reardon made no claim at all.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Kaz knocked on the door of the small cottage in the center of the village of Côte Saint-Luc.
English greeted the four interns and ushered them inside. “You leave tomorrow. This is what I hear, yes?”
Star grinned. “Poseidon has officially invited us to go home. Gallagher finally turned his back on the camera long enough to kick us out.”
“Yeah,” Dante said bitterly. “So he can hire lawyers to go after our billion dollars.”
“Ah, the money.” English dismissed this with a contemptuous shrug. “You are better off without it. It brings only complications.”
“And private jets,” Dante added feelingly.
“Two lives are lost,” English reminded him. “No treasure is worth that.”
“He knows,” Kaz said gently. “He just wants to sulk. It’s like therapy.”
“We brought you a going-away present,” Adriana announced.
English cast a disapproving glance at the enormous shopping bag that was being carried between Adriana and Star. “Then give it to someone who is going away. Me, I stay here.”
“This one you’re going to like,” Adriana promised. She tore the bag away, revealing the wooden object she had found buried with the treasure at the wreck site. “It was the only thing the government didn’t impound. They prefer gold, I guess.”
English examined it with mild interest. “It is a carving,” he observed. “Like the one I already have.” He picked up the figure and turned it over in his arms. “The body and hindquarters of an animal. The head is missing.”
“No, it isn’t.” Adriana was almost dancing with excitement. She crossed the small parlor and lifted the other piece from the fishnet hanging in the window. “The head is right here.”
The dive guide frowned. “But this is impossible. The head is a bird. The body is some kind of beast.”
“There’s a mythological animal with the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion,” Adriana explained. “It’s a griffin. This artifact comes from the wreck of a ship called the Griffin.”
Holding the eagle out in front of her, she walked up to English and lowered it on top of the carving in his arms. The jagged ends fit together like two puzzle pieces. One half was bleached by sun, the other blackened by centuries underwater. But there was no question that this had once been a single sculpture. Now it was whole again after more than three hundred years.
She stepped back and admired the effect. “This is the figurehead from the bow of the Griffin. If your ancestor floated ashore on part of it, then he was from that ship.” She looked at him long and hard. “The Griffin was English, which means you are, too. Your family legend — it’s all true.”
Menasce Gérard was not often overwhelmed, but this was one of those times. At last, he managed, “You American teenagers—”
“I’m Canadian,” Kaz reminded him.
“You bring me my history,” the guide persisted. “I — I have no way to repay you.”
Star regarded him solemnly. “I think saving our lives a thousand times probably counts.”
English gazed at their faces as if committing each one to memory. “I will never forget you.” The giant stood there for a moment awkwardly, and then opened his arms.
There was room for all four of them.
09 September 1665
Samuel came awake with the piece of the wooden figurehead still clutched in his arms, and the gritty taste of sand in his mouth. He shook himself and sat up, spitting and choking.
Alive! he thought. He had not expected to be so.
He took in his surroundings — a beach, palm trees, a pleasant floral scent on a tropical breeze.
An island.
Captain Blade was right about one thing, he thought. I am lucky.
He stood up, shaking with hunger and thirst, and spied a village just in from the beach. He could smell food cooking. Children played among the huts.
Now several people were heading his way. They resembled the natives Samuel had seen along the coastline around Portobelo. They reached him, exclaimed over him, brought him water.
“I’m English,” he tried to explain, pointing to himself. “English.”
They did not understand, nor could he make sense of their strange words. But the message of welcome was clear. The feeling that welled up inside him was something close to joy.
Samuel Higgins had never belonged anywhere. But this was a place where a young man could make a life for himself. Start a family.
Leave a legacy.
EPILOGUE
The X-ray machine at Martinique airport picked up the strange object in Star’s duffel bag. Security officers swarmed from all directions. Star and her three traveling companions were pulled aside into the restricted area, and a search of the luggage began.
The agent in charge rummaged around the bag and pulled out the carved whalebone handle that had once belonged to Captain James Blade of His Majesty’s privateer fleet.
“I totally forgot about that thing!” Star exclaimed.
And then the huge stone inset above the initials J.B. caught the light and flashed deep green fire at them. The interns stared at it, mouths agape. This was the first time they had seen it free of its encrustation of coral. It was magnificent.
A junior agent pointed urgently at the brilliant display. “Monsieur — regardez! The gem!”
With disinterested eyes, the inspector looked from the four teens in shorts to this huge garish stone.
“Do not be ridiculous,” he chided his subordinate. “It cannot be real. An emerald that size would be worth two million dollars!”
With a snort of disgust, he tossed the artifact back into Star’s duffel, and passed the interns through.
“Souvenir tourist junk!”
Copyright
Copyright © 2003 by Gordon Korman.
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc.
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First printing, August 2003
Photography: Kelly La Duke
Cover design: Ursula S. Albano
e-ISBN 978-0-545-62813-6
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