Chapter One
Summer 1711
The gray mist floated silently on the Caribbean waters, pausing now and then to grow in strength then moving onward to the island drums that beckoned it home once more. Distant thunder rumbled its approval as the thick tendrils crept steadily inward cloaking the island with fear and uncertainty. The rhythmic drums intensified and the clouds lowered. As the last remnants of silvery moonlight vanished, Samantha Chesterfield slid closer to the edge of the stone balustrade that encircled her balcony.
“'Tis the last time you’ll humiliate me, Falcon,” she vowed, angrily wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Bawdy laughter floated upward from the inn below and her anger flared anew. “And you’re more the fool to think a locked door will detain me.”
She tucked her long hair carefully beneath a battered woolen cap. Black breeches and a dark shirt completed her garb. Grateful for the dense mist, she swung her leg over the railing and reached for the nearest branch of the massive cypress tree that stood beside the inn. The muscles of her shoulders and back throbbed in protest bringing fresh tears but her resolve stood firm. It was not the first time she had used the old, gnarled branches to escape her father’s wrath, but tonight, with stiff muscles and no moon to light her way, she progressed slowly until she reached the lowest branch. Pausing to listen to the rhythmic message within the drums, she wiped the sweat and tears from her face. Why, she wondered wearily, did Kabol always seem to send for her when Falcon was in a temper?
She slipped from her perch and edged away from the inn, careful to avoid the flickering patches of light that spilled from the lower windows. Samantha moved through the yard, blending first with one shadow then another until the inn was no longer visible. The cool moss beneath her feet was a welcome relief from the humidity that plastered the tattered shirt to her skin and sent trickles of sweat down her back. She navigated the narrow trail that led to the island’s swampy interior with a sure step, ducking beneath the thick clumps of sodden Spanish moss and soundlessly pushing the large palm fronds from her path.
As she neared her destination, the hollow beating of the island drums faded. The dense foliage opened to reveal a small clearing where the damp earth had been raked clean. In the flickering firelight, she could see the ancient skulls that guarded the circumference of the circle and the sun-bleached animal bones that lay scattered on the ground before her. Their mystical patterns had taken years to unravel, but tonight she read their secrets with ease.
She dropped to her knees then rocked back on her heels to wait. The hunched figure on the other side of the fire remained motionless and a smile touched Samantha’s lips as she watched her silent companion. More bones than flesh, his image little resembled that of a dreaded shaman. Yet on the island, the wizened old man was respected by all. He could stop a heated argument with a glance, calm an angry mob with but a few whispered words. Even those who sailed with Falcon on the Sea Hawk gave Kabol wide berth while they were in dock.
Samantha tried to stem her impatience. Why did he not acknowledge her? Taking slow, deep breaths, she willed her mind and body to relax as she gazed into the small fire below her. The night birds ceased their chatter. Only the crackling flames dared to disturb the unnatural silence. Time ceased to exist as the colors of the fire blended, then separated only to blend once again. Mesmerized, she watched the dancing flames give way to a growing image. A face appeared. Green eyes, dark hair; the features were hazy but they belonged to a man – a man she had seen each night for months. Gooseflesh covered her arms and ran down her neck. To have the strange, shadowy image haunt her dreams was one thing, but to see it mystically appear within a living flame was another. The image flickered, growing then fading, only to reappear. Panic soared through her veins as the image teased its way in and out of reality never becoming completely clear. It beckoned. She felt its strength even before its hand reached out to touch her.
Cowed by her lack of control, Samantha closed her eyes tightly and pressed her forehead to her knees. Then it was gone, leaving an aching emptiness in its wake. Her body trembled despite the fire and heat of the night.
She looked up to find Kabol watching her intently, his dark eyes puzzled. Slowly, the wrinkled black man rose and moved before the fire. His hands danced lightly over the flames and a fine powder sifted through his fingers. Red, green, and blue lights instantly shot out in all directions illuminating his shrouded figure against the darkness of the night. Abruptly he gave a tired grunt and squatted back down on the damp earth.
“He tried to come to you. Why did you turn away?”
Samantha’s eyes widened with amazement. “You saw him? He truly existed? How did . . . ?”
“Nay,” Kabol interrupted softly. “'Twas not my doing. You called forth the image only to deny it existence.”
Samantha bit back the protest that sprang to her lips.
Tell him, her mind pleaded. Tell him that the image heeds no master but comes and goes at will. Tell him of the haunted nights and restless sleeps. Tell him of your fear. She clasped her hands tightly to stop their trembling as pride defeated common sense. “Why did you send for me?”
Kabol watched her inner struggle. Such power, he thought, but so stubborn. “You will be leaving soon.”
“Aye.” Samantha gave a wary sigh. “Falcon is anxious to be back on the sea. He has the patience of a child.”
“A well-learned child does not mock its elders,” he scolded gently.
Her spine straightened and her chin tilted indignantly. “At ten and six I am no longer the child that ran to you in tears because of her father’s cruel words.”
Kabol heaved a deep sigh. Although she pretended indifference to her father’s rejections, to his observant eye her pain was tangible. “What has happened this time to toss you out of favor?” he prodded gently.
“When am I ever in favor?” she sighed. Her fingers rubbed the nagging ache in her shoulder. Touch alone told her it would be many days before the stiffness left.
“But this time?”
Samantha pulled off her cap spilling silvery hair to her waist. As her fingers toyed with the cap’s frayed edges, her shoulders slumped forward and Kabol thought of a wilted island flower left too long in the sun.
“Somehow the latches on the birdcages were left open,” she said softly.
“Somehow?”
She shrugged. Finally the silence weighted more than her guilt. “I read the clouds wrong. I thought the winds had returned and we would be gone.”
“So you set Falcon’s prize game cock free to roam the island thinking the deed would not be discovered? It is a wonder that you are still with us, my child.”
“'Tis not natural to teach birds to kill one another,” she defended. “An animal should kill for food or protection, not to line the pockets of the greedy.”
Kabol shifted closer to the fire and wished again that he might work his magic to bring father and daughter together. But the tapestry of time was already woven and even with his power he knew better than to alter the threads.
“The winds will return at midnight.” His prediction seemed to hover over the fire then seep into growing mist. “Falcon’s ship will sail with the morning tide.”
“I shall never understand him,” Samantha sighed wearily. “He possesses more than ten men could spend in a lifetime, yet he still is not sated.”
“Mayhap your father worries of the day when he will no longer have your eyes to guide his ship. Mayhap he fears that without your ‘sight’ he would fare not better than St. Martin.”
“How can you even think that?” Samantha jerked to her feet and began to pace before the fire. “Falcon’s faults are many, but his skills as a captain far surpass those of St. Martin. And whatever his circumstances, he would never resort to the buying and selling of human flesh for a profit as does that whoremonger. You do me a grave injustice even to speak my father’s name in the same breath with that Bastard.” Her soft voice was threaded with anger.
Kabol smiled. She had grown, he thought with satisfaction. Now she questioned and argued with strength. The metamorphosis was nearly complete. Her eyes looked past the face and into the soul; her mind was strong and true. The shy, awkward child was slowly being pushed aside by the striking beauty that sat before him. An intense sense of satisfaction seeped into his aging bones. But now the time was nigh, he felt a moment’s reluctance to let her go.
Reaching deep within the folds of his cloak he withdrew another handful of the magical dust. Again the flames danced in a frenzy of colors. “The hour is at hand,” he declared firmly. “You must leave me.”
“But I just . . .” The words died on her lips and she quickly resumed her position before the fire. Panic filled her slender frame. Could she do nothing right? Her outburst had displeased him. Now he was sending her away.
“You must find your other half.” His words were a mere whisper above the crackling fire. “You must find the sun.”
“Other half?”
Kabol watched the emotions play across her face. Blue eyes that always danced with laughter and mischief now clouded with confusion.
“You are the moon,” he continued patiently. “Silver is your metal. Your hair is the color of moonlight dancing on the waters and you carry the scent of life. You hold within you great powers, my child, but alas, you are only the moon.”
Instinctively Samantha touched the tear-shaped medallion that hung around her neck. The delicate crystal encased a mystical silver liquid, and as it lay warm against her skin, each breath caused the medallion’s interior to shimmer in a never-ending motion. Kabol had placed the talisman around her neck the night they met and for eight years she had not removed it.
“You need to find the sun. Without the sun the moon may cast no light.”
“But where . . .”
Kabol silenced her with a glance. “'Tis not an easy task, my child, but you have within you the talents to see it through. You must go now, for Falcon has discovered you gone. Do not return to me until you have found the sun.” With a grace that denied his years, Kabol rose then vanished into the mist that crowded the now-dying fire.
The night air hung heavy and hot, yet Samantha huddled closer to the fading embers. Her mind spun with confusion and she clutched her knees closer to her body. Why a riddle? Why now? A wave of loneliness washed over her. She glanced about the shadowed clearing but found no peace. Wearily she stood. The puzzle would have to wait for, as always, Falcon came first.