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“This is breathtaking,” Katrina uttered. “I’d love to paint this.”
“Take it in. These are your roots, love. You said you were Cuban, aye?”
“Yeah,” She looked away with a bashful nod. “Half Cuban. Half Mermaid.”
“Una sirena cubana. Divine combination in my book.” I winked.
Katrina and Noah both gaped in wonder as we entered the inlet surrounded by gray ragged rocks lining the entrance. Here the water became so clear you could see straight through to the bottom, and streams of greenery trickled down the rocky edges. We turned off the motor, using a paddle to navigate the horseshoe-shaped border of cliffs as we made our way to the sand.
We finally reached the shore after what might’ve been 20 minutes of rowing. As we dragged the little boat onto land, I welcomed the familiar feel of wild, unkempt island beneath my feet. No buildings or roads or modern amenities in sight. This secret cove of Cuba felt like home. Like the glory days of dragging our plunder ashore to some secret spot in the middle of nowhere. Then we’d celebrate with dancing and music and chugging rum and liquor till we passed out, waking up to the surf tickling our worn, calloused feet.
I noted Katrina glancing around, looking for our next destination, while Noah stood with arms crossed, as if waiting impatiently for the next move. I purposely took the time to take a long stretch, letting my open shirt drape down and the sun warm my bare chest.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were wasting our time,” Noah grunted.
“Come on, mate, pull that head out of your ass. It’s a wonder Milo gave you that compass to keep safe when you’re so bullheaded.”
Katrina nodded as Noah’s expression turned to cold stone. “Well, all I’m saying is the quicker we find this guy, the better.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. But come on then!” I clapped my hands together as I turned toward the mess of rainforest behind us. “Chop chop.”
We plugged along, entering the grassy expanse of forest. The ground was damp with dark dirt that stayed sprinkled from the sea and humid rains. Vines and full branches of green arched over us, winding in every direction, with rocky terrain poking through the sandy dirt here and there. I chuckled as a brightly colored parrot swooped down past us and startled Noah with a squawk. It wasn’t exactly the same as I remembered, but it was close.
Because there were no paths forged through this mangled mess of trees, we were left to fight through the foliage, and I was silently running through the directions to Bastian’s hideout in my head. Fifty-seven paces through the forest. At the crab-shaped rock, take a left. Or was it a right? Was the rock even still here? I swear I didn’t see it anywhere, but we’d gone far enough.
“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Noah asked.
“Is my answer going to determine whether or not you continue to follow me in an isolated, off-limits rainforest miles from civilization on an island you’ve never been to before?” I rambled off without even turning around, smugly waiting for the silence I figured would follow. “Right, as always, I’m your best chance here either way.”
I saw Katrina roll her eyes, but I could tell she was fighting back a smile the way her lips twitched upward at the corner. “That rock looks just like a turtle!” She exclaimed, suddenly pointing at a gray stony mass protruding out from the bushes.
“Good eye, love,” I winked, playing along, shocked at myself for my mistake. The crab rock was back in Madagascar. I couldn’t believe I’d confused the two. “Now we go ten paces north. No, left.”
I was sure now. It was definitely left. And as we marched along, past the turtle rock, and down a gradual slope, it all came back to me clearly. For a split second I was back in 1724, carrying a heavy chest laden with siren…relics…down this path alongside my father’s crewmen. The heat was just as sweltering and suffocating now as it had been then. But the company was certainly different.
The two behind me followed carefully, as the path gave way to a small clearing that was barely a clearing anymore. The plants had become overgrown and shrouded the patch of dirt that should have been a subtle entrance to a cave below-ground. I pushed forward, wondering if it would still look the same, but the thick leaves and vines provided quite the challenge. A certain vine had crept over the cave doorway, hiding the singular clue that would have allowed us to enter the hideout.
I reached into my pocket for my knife, cutting away the vine that obscured the small empty space of chiseled-away rock that should’ve been visible to the trained eye. It was still there, though dirt and mud had filled its cracks solid. I plunged my knife in, hoping it would do the trick. Normally the tip of a short cutlass was used, or a broad dagger, but this modern knife would have to do. I missed the dagger my father gave me, with the golden skull hilt, and wished I had it then.
“What are you doing?” Katrina asked, looking over my shoulder.
“It’s a key,” I grunted, fighting with the dried sediment that hadn’t been moved in ages.
I pried out the caked mud, then jammed the blade back into the opening, turning it to the right, then lifting it like a lever. I stepped back and waited for the door to open. A few seconds passed and both Noah and Katrina watched me with obvious uncertainty. Nothing happened.
I was almost ready to twist the blade again when the ground began to rumble, vibrating the loose pieces of sediment and broken shells at my boots. The cave entrance slowly came to life, as the stone that appeared to be nothing more than the underside of a ledge shook free, dust and roots falling loose above our heads. The rock slid back, groaning at the effort, just enough to reveal what I expected would be the dimly lit entryway down into Bastian’s lair. But instead, I saw a cemented wall of solid rock, sealing up what would have been the entrance.
“Well…I didn’t see that coming,” I uttered, stepping closer.
“What does this mean?” Noah approached the spot, trying to get a closer look. “He’s not here?”
“He’s not here.” I touched my hand to the stone wall, trying to suppress the anger and defeat I felt all at once. I knew this was the right spot. But Bastian was gone. And I wouldn’t know where else to find him. Second by second, that sensation of helplessness creeped up in me, and I worried that just like I failed Serena, I would fail Katrina and Milo.
I stepped back, taking a breath to think through it all. Noah came forward, and I moved aside to let him examine the wall. He looked at it for a long minute before speaking. “Either one of you have a light?”
Katrina unzipped the backpack she carried and pulled out a flashlight as we closed in around Noah.
“Shine the light here,” he said, running his fingers along the cemented entrance. “There’s something…”
