The Sea of Prickles: The Ghost Runner Series Book 2

By Robin Freeman

Escaping the clutches of the sorcerer in his island hideaway, Avalon and his three female companions set sail on Ghost Runner. On their long voyage they get sucked into a giant whirlpool half a mile wide at its gaping mouth during a severe storm, are attacked by fierce pirates, and eventually discover an unchartered, uninhabited archipelago where they make the tropical paradise their home for six blissful months while the hurricane season rages all around them.

Whilst there they find a derelict town on one of the coral atolls and in a hidden chamber beneath the ruins of an ancient temple Avalon unearths a treasure beyond value. On the wall of the secret chamber they also find a pictorial history of the island's inhabitants that reveals a startling fact about the people that had been captured by slavers three decades ago. Avalon is told by a Spirit Being that he is to return the treasure to the rightful owners who are enslaved in a land thousands of miles to the northwest. When they finally arrive at their destination their search for the whereabouts of the slaves leads them into extreme danger.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Apr 16, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543408171

Robin Freeman

Robin Freeman is an artist, adventurer, sailboarder, surfer, diver, photographer, environmentalist, world traveler, published author and blue water yachtsman. For the past 25 years Robin and his wife have been sailing and exploring the deep blue oceans of the world on board their catamaran. They have had many exciting adventures and close encounters with cyclones, pirates and giant whirlpools, and have sailed over 75,000 nautical miles together. He has been able to draw upon many of these exciting experiences and adventures and vividly capture them on paper in gripping, graphic detail that will keep the reader spellbound until the last page.

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Copyright © 2018 by Robin Freeman.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2018904042

ISBN:                Hardcover                978-1-5434-0819-5

                           Softcover                  978-1-5434-0818-8

                          eBook                         978-1-5434-0817-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 07/25/2018

Xlibris

1-800-455-039

www.Xlibris.com.au

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This book is dedicated to my wife Diane for all her expert editing skills, encouragement, patience, and inspiration during the undertaking of this mammoth 4 book series.

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T

he ocean swell rose and fell beneath Ghost Runner like a living thing as the ninety foot schooner charged headlong through the indigo blue sea sending spray flying high to either side of her bow. The twenty knot winds were blowing aft of the beam which was the schooner’s best point of sail, and with all sails set she was a thing of great beauty as the early morning sun kissed the eastern horizon, high-lighting her white sails.

Avalon was on watch and he sighed contentedly for it promised to be another beautiful day with perfect sailing conditions.

It had been five days since the tornado-like waterspout created by dark magic had hit them and it was now just a very unpleasant memory. They hoped and prayed Kawa had escaped the slow moving waterspout and had flown well clear of its clutches until it finally dissipated, for as yet he had not returned which concerned all on board.

The sound of the companionway hatch sliding open distracted Avalon and glancing across the deck he saw Ameliana bringing their young sea-eagle pet topsides to be placed on his perch. Once the thonging was firmly secured to his stand to prevent him falling into the sea and drowning, she pulled some strips of dried fish from her pocket and fed the ever hungry raptor to keep him happy until she caught a fish for his breakfast. She then turned and catching Avalon’s eye bade him good morning with a dazzling smile lighting up her beautiful ebony face. She came to his side and leaning closer kissed him on his cheek before saying, How has your watch been? No dramas I hope.

Avalon smiled warmly saying, Good morning to you my dear. No dramas, and as you can see it looks like another beautiful day ahead of us.

She looked around and then up at the sky before sighing at the sheer beauty of the day. We have certainly been blessed with beautiful weather of late. She sighed again, a soft whisper of sound before saying, I had better put the fishing line out or our pet will soon be complaining that he wants to be fed again.

By the time she returned to the cockpit Genevieve and Sarina had come topsides and were now sitting in peaceful silence as they looked out at the crimson sky.

Ameliana smiled at her friends and was about to bid them good morning when the fishing reel began to spin crazily as a fish wildly fought the sharp hook imbedded in its jaw. She raced for the reel before it spun out of control and the line became a hopeless tangle of knots. Grabbing the line she began hauling it in hand over hand, and her muscles bunched and knotted with the strain. She was amazed at how much strength she needed to haul the fish in and figured it was either the ship’s speed through the water creating such an enormous drag on the fish that was now trying to dive deeper, or it was a truly enormous fish.

As the fish tired it tried another tactic to shake itself free of the deadly hook and suddenly shot up out of the water leaping high into the air, shaking and twisting its whole body back and forth in a wild bid for freedom. Ameliana cried out excitedly when she saw it was a six foot long marlin flying through the air. While it was still airborne she furiously wound in the line to take up the slack before it dived again. It was a life and death struggle, and as the marlin struck the water it was momentarily stunned and was dragged unceremoniously across the water on its side as Ameliana kept pulling the line in as fast as she could, whooping out loud with the excitement.

Within moments the fish came to its senses and with a mighty splash dived beneath the surface. The line again went taut and so rigid it hummed as the tension increased to near breaking point. Ameliana thought she could have strummed a tune on the line if she’d had a free hand, but as it was she could only hold onto the line with both hands and hope it didn’t break.

Again the fish leapt high and there were cries of wonder from Genevieve and Sarina who had by now come to the stern rail to see what all the excitement was about.

Genevieve said excitedly, It’s enormous. Well done Princess. Don’t lose it. I do so love the flavour of marlin steaks.

Again and again the marlin leapt out of the water as it renewed its struggles to free itself from the hook that held it captive, but to no avail.

With both women now helping Ameliana, it was eventually hauled on board after half an hour of struggling, but it was no easy matter to pin the frantic, desperate fish down, for it was as slippery as an eel. Whenever Genevieve grabbed at the madly flapping tail and took a secure grip, the tail slipped through her grip to resume its thrashing about on the teak deck.

Eventually, after much squealing from the women, Genevieve pounced on it and laying full length on its slimy body held it secure while Ameliana leant down and quickly slit its throat. As the blood drained out of the fish and ran across the deck in a crimson trail, Genevieve remained where she was holding it firmly whilst its death throes caused it to shudder and vibrate with such power she was amazed. With a final stiffening of its long body, the life-force left the creature of the sea and it went limp as it died.

Genevieve breathed a huge sigh of relief as she got up off the fish, and kneeling beside its head carefully prised the hook out of its jaw with the help of her dagger, ever mindful that the sharp, pointed teeth didn’t bite down on her fingers in a reflex action as they sometimes did, for the teeth could still inflict a nasty wound.

The juvenile sea eagle had sat on his perch nearby watching the flapping fish with keen interest, but his excited squawks and high-pitched twittering went unnoticed by the women in their excitement. The young chick had an insatiable appetite, and the sight and smell of the fish, and the flowing blood had him hopping from one leg to another in eager anticipation of being fed again.

With the fish now well and truly dead, Genevieve became aware of the eaglet’s cries and kneeling down, with some difficulty cut the marlin’s head off. Taking the head over to the noisy chick, she held it out in her outstretched hand offering it to the bird. As she did so she talked to him in a soft, crooning voice so that he would associate her voice with food.

Genevieve studied the bird for some time as he gripped the head with his talons and began to rip at the bloody flesh with his sharp, hooked beak. She could see he was going to be a huge bird when he grew to adulthood and realised that it would take a lot of fish to keep him fed until such time as he could be released back into the wild and successfully hunt for himself. Looking at the bindings that kept the broken wing strapped to his body, she saw it was still doing its job despite the ragged, torn edges where the raptor had been pulling and worrying at the binding with his beak.

She reached out and petted the chick’s neck and said softly, It must be time we gave you a name my little fluffy friend. After some reflection she said, I know, why don’t we call you Seagle, short for sea eagle. Yes, that would be most appropriate. What do you think Seagle?

At that moment the chick looked up from his feeding frenzy and their eyes locked and held. She was mesmerised by the intense, deeply penetrating very intelligent eyes that bored into hers from beneath craggy brows, and when the eaglet suddenly twittered at her she smiled and said, So, you like the new name. Seagle it is then.

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A valon had been constantly checking the ocean chart northwest of their present position, for it showed many small and some large volcanic islands scattered across their path a hundred miles ahead. There was also a ‘warning to mariners’ written in fine print on the margin of the chart. The ship’s Captain who had drawn the ancient chart warned of underwater volcanoes which created enormous whirlpools and over-falls, and phenomenal currents of up to seven knots. He also wrote of a race of brown skinned natives who sailed in fast pirogues with very wide outriggers who inhabited the islands, and were well known to be fierce pir ates.

Avalon became thoughtful as he pondered long on the options open to them, for their ship was now in the grip of a strong north-west setting current, and the winds were getting lighter by the hour. Their only hope was for favourable winds to return before they were sucked right through the narrow, reef studded passages between the islands.

He decided that it would be prudent to bring the weapons topsides, sharpen and oil them, and keep them handy in case they drifted near the pirate inhabited islands. He would also give their deadly falconets a thorough clean and make sure the gunpowder impregnated wicks hadn’t become damp from all the humidity. He decided to leave the box of home-made incendiary grenades below deck until such time as they were needed, but made a mental note to check the box of pre-cut wicks.

Genevieve and Ameliana were glad to help with the messy task of cleaning the weapons. The salt-laden sea air invariably caused the steel to rust on their vast array of weaponry, and it was a never ending chore to keep the rust at bay, and their swords and daggers sharpened and ready for use.

As they worked on the weapons under the shade of the awning, the ladies laughed at Avalon’s anecdotes. He was a born story-teller and they were more than happy to sit and listen as they sanded, sharpened and oiled their weapons while Sarina kept the ship on course.

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O n one of the sand quays thousands of miles behind them, Avalon and the ladies had taken one of the incendiary grenades ashore to see how they worked and what the effects were. Seeking cover behind some fallen coconut trees they had exploded the grenade with the aid of a long wick. The ensuing explosion nearly deafened them, and when the dust and smoke had dispersed they had been appalled by the devastation. The blast had blown a hole four feet deep where the bomb had been placed, and it had completely flattened an area of scrub fifty feet in diameter. The flames burnt so fiercely from the compound used in the bomb, nothing was spared from the holocaust. They had been stunned by what the grenade was capable of as they watched the flames roar as if from the fires of hell itself, seemingly unquenchable, until everything was consumed and burnt to a fine ash.

Avalon had given a lot of thought to devising some sort of a timing mechanism for the grenades, and the answer had been so simple he had berated himself for not thinking of it sooner. Using his fob-watch, he timed how long different lengths of gunpowder impregnated fuse burnt before they spluttered out. He now had an earthenware jar with an airtight lid to keep the pre-cut wicks dry and moisture free, and it would depend on how far off the attacking pirates were as to which length fuse he would use.

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T he stronger winds failed to materialise as Avalon hoped and prayed they would, and they had to be content drifting with the five knot current, and three knots of light breeze, which was thankfully aft of their beam and kept the sails filled so they at least had steerage. Not for the first time Avalon thought it was uncanny how they were being inexplicably drawn towards the islands ahead, almost as if against their will, and he wondered if it was fate or by evil de sign.

As the long, hot hours dragged slowly by the ladies took turns reading aloud from the manuscript. They read of life on other planets, and of the amazing Spirit Beings who inhabited them, and of galaxies and universes scattered throughout the heavens above.

The thick, leather-bound manuscript also told them about the reality of God, and that he was the Heavenly Father of all creatures great and small throughout the many universes.

It was heady stuff, and the words took their minds off the threat of pirates ahead, for as Avalon said to them, All they could do was tackle each and every problem hour by hour as they arose.

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T here was a storm brewing to the west which Avalon had been keeping a wary eye on, for the inky black clouds looked threatening as they filled the horizon from north to s outh.

He was now on the helm, and seeing the ladies concerned faces as they sat nearby he said, It looks like a nasty one doesn’t it, and it’s definitely coming our way. We should prepare Ghost Runner for the worst. If there are any whirlpools or over-falls ahead the strong wind might help us avoid them rather than being at the mercy of this incredible current.

The women spent the next half hour hanking on the storm headsail and putting four reefs in the mainsail. Avalon had debated with himself about leaving the mainsail up during the approaching storm but figured the sail was strongly built of heavy cloth, and should be able to weather the storm, and also give them better steerage if they had to avoid any reef or islands in their path not marked on their chart.

They then cleared the deck of accumulated loose items, and when the hatches were all secured and the deck ship-shape and ready for whatever prevailed they returned to the cockpit dressed in their foul-weather gear and sat watching the fast approaching storm.

The chart showed that the ocean ahead was clear of dangers, but what it didn’t show was an underwater volcano directly ahead, above which the phenomenal currents created a gigantic whirlpool.

Round and round the funnel-shaped whirlpool raced in a spiralling clockwise direction, and there was all manner of debris from wrecked ships, flotsam and jetsam, and dead fish swirling round and round on its steep sides as the underwater volcano sucked everything from within a five mile radius into its gaping mouth down into the black vortex.

As Avalon and the ladies waited in silence for the storm to strike, they were oblivious to the danger as Ghost Runner was sucked towards the whirlpool at an ever increasing pace.

The storm eventually caught up with the ship after sunset, lashing at them in a frenzy from the west. As Ghost Runner heeled to the first vicious gusts roaring out of the black night, the stormsail and reefed mainsail filled with a loud crack. For the first time in many days the ship had direct steerage and she picked up speed and bore away into the stormy night.

The rain came soon after, and the strengthening winds hurled the cold, stinging rain horizontally at the valiant ship and her crew as they ploughed into the confused, wild sea which had been whipped into a frenzy.

Avalon was on the helm keeping the ship on course whilst Ameliana made her way forward to watch ahead for any signs of danger through the driving rain, while Genevieve and Sarina sat huddled in the cockpit in their foul weather gear ready for any situation that might arise.

A stab of searing lightning suddenly lit up the bleak night around them, casting weird, dancing shadows across the deck and its blinding light made them all start and close their eyes against the intensity of the flash.

Avalon began counting aloud, One thousand, two thousand, three thousand, and by the time he said ten thousand a booming clap of thunder battered their ears and senses.

He turned to the ladies and shouted above the cacophony of noise, The heart of the lightning storm is ten miles away. It won’t be long before the full force of the storm is upon us.

As the long, tense minutes dragged by, more and more lightning stabbed across the sky, followed soon after by the inevitable boom and peel of thunder that gradually grew louder and more deafening the closer it came.

No matter how many times they tried to prepare themselves for the next booming clap, they found it impossible not to flinch and jump involuntarily.

Suddenly Avalon’s senses began screaming at him of imminent danger, but he could see nothing past the bowsprit of the ship as the driving rain obscured everything. His senses had never let him down before and he knew there had to be something terribly amiss. He was in a quandary as to whether or not to bring Ghost Runner about and beat into the storm or remain on course. The indecision gnawed at his insides like an insidious poison.

As the lightning continued to flash and light up the wind-whipped sea and driving rain all about them, Avalon quickly looked around trying to find the cause of his acute disquiet.

The rain stopped suddenly as if a tap had been turned off, and three successive blinding flashes of forked lightning brilliantly illuminated the way ahead.

Clinging onto the bulwark at the bow Ameliana thought she saw something directly ahead as she squinted her eyes against the intense lightning flashes, something that froze her heart and belied her senses. There was also a strange roaring sound.

More lightning flashed and she saw that Ghost Runner was on the brink of a gigantic, gaping whirlpool. She screamed a warning just as Ghost Runner sailed over the edge, Whirlpool, whirlpool, hang on.

As Avalon began to wrestle the wheel hard to starboard he heard a frightening, roaring noise, like that of a giant waterfall in full spate, a sound very different to the storm beating and thrashing at them.

The ship’s bow was now pointing down at an acute angle into an enormous, spiralling, sucking vortex that was over half a mile wide at its outer rim and its core went down into the very maw of a massive underwater volcano, thousands of fathoms below the surface.

The women screamed in terror and hung on for dear life as Avalon tried in vain to turn the wheel hard to starboard in an effort to sail up out of the deadly whirlpool. Despite his struggling and straining the helm wouldn’t respond, for unknown to Avalon a piece of floating wreckage had jammed between the keel and the rudder seizing the rudder fast.

As the ship was sucked below the horizon line, the wind began to lessen and the sails began to luff and flap as they spilled the wind. Avalon swore, for he knew that without the wind to help them sail out of danger they would be at the mercy of the giant whirlpool and would be sucked down into its dark depths.

He strained harder on the spoked wheel but it was frozen and wouldn’t turn. Out of sheer desperation Avalon shouted to make himself heard above the roar, Genevieve, Sarina, help me on the helm. It won’t respond.

The urgency in his voice was like a slap across their faces as they fought down the rising terror that was threatening to engulf them. With the angle of the deck now forty-five degrees as well as being wet and slippery, both women had great difficulty in making their way across to the steering station. When they were close enough, they grabbed onto Avalon’s outstretched arm and he helped pull them towards the helm. Together they strained and wrestled with the seized wheel but to no avail.

Beneath the black, swirling water, the wooden spar off a wrecked ship that was caught behind the rudder finally snapped in two from the great pressure now being exerted against it.

Avalon cried out with relief when the wheel began to respond, and as the ladies helped to turn the wheel hard to starboard, he looked ahead and saw by the almost continuous flashes of lightning just overhead that the bow was beginning to slowly turn away from the black, gaping maw that was the whirlpools deadly heart. With no wind in the sails, the ship was firmly in the grip of the monster vortex, but the deep keel was being pushed effortlessly sideways by the force of the spinning whirlpool and it helped to turn the ship parallel with the inky-black, swirling water.

Avalon and the ladies were so preoccupied with saving the ship, they had not given Ameliana a thought as they struggled with the helm. Just as Ameliana shouted her warning, the ship had suddenly plummeted downwards at an acute angle and she was caught completely off balance and her precious handhold on the gunwale slipped from her hand. As she fell, she tripped on a deck fitting and in the blink of the eye she was thrown headlong over the side and down into the ocean. As she fell she knocked her temple a glancing blow on the wooden gunwale in passing, but despite the pain and dancing stars before her eyes she was able to scream one word before the black water closed over her, Avalonnnnnn.

Ameliana was stunned by the blow, and as she sank below the surface she didn’t know which way was up or down. Confused and disoriented she sank deeper, and in a dreamlike state she exhaled just as a flash of lightning illuminated the water around her. She then noticed her bubbles were floating sideways away from her and she knew instinctively the way to the surface. She kicked her legs sluggishly and began swimming after the tiny bubbles. There were soon white stars clouding her vision and the need to breathe was now a physical, raw need. She gritted her teeth with determination, and after what seemed like an eternity and she was beginning to lose consciousness, her head broke the surface into the black, roaring night. Gulping great lungs full of much needed air, she gasped and spluttered with profound relief as she coughed up the water she had swallowed.

Quickly returning to her senses, she began looking frantically about for the ship.

A flash of lightning illuminated the night and she croaked, There. For a moment she was confused, for she was looking up at Ghost Runner as if the ship was sailing into the lightning filled sky high above her. Despite her confusion she saw that the ship was also getting further and further away, and she looked on horrified.

She then heard Genevieve’s faint shout above the sound of the whirlpool’s roar, Quickly Ameliana, grab the line. Grab hold of the life-line.

She began looking wildly about her for the knotted rope that they always trailed behind Ghost Runner in case someone fell overboard, but the lightning chose that particular moment in time to cease its incessant flashing and she was encased in an impenetrable blackness and couldn’t even see her hand in front on her face. In desperation she began swimming after the ship hoping to catch hold of the trailing rope.

The sky lit up with two consecutive, searing flashes, and no more than ten feet in front of her she saw the life-line floating on the surface like a long snake. She swam harder and kicked faster, and as the swirling, rushing water of the whirlpool was spinning in the same direction she reached the last knot on the rope just before it slid past her outstretched fingers. Latching onto it with a deathlike grip, she hung on grimly as she gathered her breath and strength. When next she looked up at the stern of Ghost Runner she saw the stormsail was clearing the lip of the whirlpool, and as the gale-force wind filled the sail with a resounding crack, the ship began to increase speed.

Avalon kept the wheel locked hard to starboard, and despite the fierce suck and pull of the whirlpool he managed to keep the nose of Ghost Runner pointing up, away from the spinning vortex. As the ship was pushed closer to the lip a faint breeze began to flutter and tug at the stormsail, and Avalon looked up expectantly. When the sail finally filled with wind he shouted with relief as Ghost Runner began to respond to the helm, and as her speed slowly increased they sailed closer to the rim. ‘So close but so far,’ he thought.

By degrees the rim and the horizon line drew tantalisingly nearer until the ship was finally free of the whirlpool’s deadly grip. As they sailed over the rim the full strength of the gale lashed at Ghost Runner in a mindless frenzy, and as the mainsail filled and the ship heeled before the onslaught she shot away as if released from a catapult. It had been pure chance that when Ghost Runner finally escaped the grasp of the whirlpool she was facing downwind of the storm and not into the storm which would have backed the headsail.

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A s Ghost Runner sailed clear of the danger, the reefed mainsail now filled with wind and the ship disappeared from Ameliana’s sight over the edge of the whirlpool. She now found it was almost impossible to hang onto the slime covered rope, for the strong wind now lashing at Ghost Runner had increased her speed dramatic ally.

Ameliana’s head was forced under the water time and time again, and she swallowed mouthfuls of seawater causing her to gag and choke and struggle to draw breath. Beginning to panic, she kicked harder as she tried to pull herself from knot to knot to get closer to the ship. Suddenly something large and dark appeared directly ahead of her and she was being dragged towards it.

An uprooted tree was caught in the grip of the whirlpool, and unable to avoid it Ameliana slammed head first into the bare and torn branches. Loosing her grip on the safety-line linking her with Ghost Runner, she frantically reached out and clutched at the broken, jagged branches that were digging into her and scratching her all over without mercy.

Lightning flashes illuminated the tree she was deeply entangled in, but what she didn’t see was that the knot on the end of the rope had caught in the fork of a stout branch, and she and the tree were now being pulled free of the whirlpool’s tenacious grip and dragged behind the ship.

With so much strain and resistance on the rope something had to give, and the forked branch suddenly split in half with a loud crack and the rope shot free and whipped away disappearing into the dark of the stormy night, leaving the tree and Ameliana wallowing in the gale ravaged, rough sea, but clear of the tenacious grip of the deadly whirlpool. Of Ghost Runner there was no sign, and taking a deep breath she screamed, Avalonnnn.

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W hen Avalon and the women first heard Ameliana’s scream as she went over the side, they looked towards the bow and were stunned when they couldn’t see any sign of her. Genevieve let the wheel go and in a blind panic hurried forward to where Ameliana had last been seen. She suddenly slipped on the pitching wet deck and landed hard on her hip before sliding towards the timber bulwark where she came up hard against the ungiving timber. The impact knocked the wind out of her and she gasped for breath. With Ameliana uppermost in her mind she gritted her teeth in grim determination and scrambling for a purchase hauled herself upright with great difficulty. A flare of pain in her bruised hip and ribs caused her to cry out but she tried to ignore the pain as she stared over the port side into the black water, searching frantically for any sign of her friend and si ster.

She called out time and again but there was no response. In a panic she awkwardly made her way along the deck going from handhold to handhold towards the stern, calling out as she went. Whenever there was a flash of lightning she searched the water and screamed Ameliana’s name, but all she could hear was the terrifying roar of the whirlpool. She knew it would be almost impossible to see or hear her in the debris filled, black water, especially with her ebony coloured skin and only her head exposed above the water.

Suddenly she saw something break the surface and begin splashing frantically, and she screamed out, Quickly Ameliana, grab the line. Grab hold of the life-line.

Genevieve didn’t know if Ameliana had heard her or not, for there were no more lightning flashes to light up the water for ten long frustrating seconds.

As the black of night engulfed everything, she heard Avalon shout, Throw the life-buoy over the side Genevieve, just in case she misses the safety-line in the dark.

Genevieve reacted quickly and as she pulled herself across the steeply pitched deck to where the life-buoy was attached to the stern, she cursed herself for not thinking of it herself.

More lightning danced across the sky, seemingly directly over the top of the masts, and its searing light helped her to see the salt encrusted knot holding the life-ring in place. There, she cried with relief as she finally freed it, and with a mighty heave threw it as far as she could towards where she had last seen Ameliana struggling in the water. As the rope attached to the buoy fed out she made sure it didn’t tangle and pull up short.

Avalon was now in a quandary, for to bring the ship about in these conditions and search for Ameliana would be extremely dangerous, especially with the whirlpool lurking in the darkness somewhere just behind them and sucking everything into its gaping, destructive maw. On the other hand, if he was to lower the sails and heave-to until the storm passed them by, they could still end up being sucked back into the whirlpool.

Genevieve joined him at the helm and he had to shout above the roar of the storm to make himself heard. He tried to explain why he wasn’t coming about and going back to search for Ameliana in her time of great peril.

Genevieve put her mouth close to Avalon’s ear and shouted, We can’t just leave her out there to fend for herself. Every minute we are sailing further and further away. We must go back Avalon, we must. There is no alternative. We must save her from certain death.

Avalon stared into her distraught eyes for a long moment before he acquiesced and shouted, It goes against my better judgement, but you are right. We must at least try. But in these conditions it will be almost impossible to find her. It will be like looking for a needle in the proverbial haystack. Okay then, prepare to come about. And for God’s sake keep an eye open for the whirlpool, for we’ll be on it before we know it.

For the first time in several hours Genevieve’s face lit up with a smile before she turned and went with Sarina to stand by on the sheet ropes for both sails.

When she and Sarina were at their stations, Avalon spun the wheel, gybing the ship through the wind. As Ghost Runner came onto the new course, they were now hard into the wind and it was some time before the sails were brought under control by Genevieve and Sarina as they strained on their respective sheet ropes.

If it wasn’t for the almost continuous flashes of lightning, they wouldn’t have had a chance of seeing anything in the turbulent, storm-tossed water, but as it was they thought they had a slim chance of finding Ameliana despite the horrendous conditions.

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A meliana hung onto one of the rough branches of the large tree with a tenacious grip, struggling to keep her head above the breaking waves and wind blown spindrift and spume which blasted at her horizontally, making it almost impossible to breathe. She had repeatedly tried shouting out loud in case Ghost Runner was nearby searching for her in the dark, but every time she opened her mouth to draw breath she inhaled salt water, causing her to gag and choke on the briny water. She knew she was in dire straights, but also knew she had to keep calm and keep her wits about her.

Every time the lightning flashed and lit up the wild sea around her, she quickly looked all about hoping to see Ghost Runner bearing down on her, but all she could see was breaking waves and white turbulent water. Her foul-weather clothing might have been water resistant, but her woollen under-clothes and jumpers beneath the outer layer of oil-skin were now so water logged she could feel the pull of their weight trying to drag her down. She gripped the branch so tightly her knuckles were white from the effort and she had to kick continuously to keep her head up out of the water, but the effort slowly sapped what remaining strength she had left.

When next Ameliana and the tree were picked up by a huge rogue wave, she looked wildly all about and with the aid of the lightning flashes thought she saw something white floating low on the water off to her left. She was uncertain as to exactly what it was she was seeing, and then it was gone as the tree sunk into the trough behind the steep backed wave. It had looked familiar, but her mind was still in a state of shock and she couldn’t remember where she had seen the round object before. She soon forgot all about it when it failed to appear again.

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T he gale began to ease at dawn, but the huge seas still pummelled Ameliana and threw her helplessly about amongst the branches. She was now covered in bruises and many bleeding scratches and nasty looking lacerat ions.

When she finally looked up with bleary, salt encrusted eyes at the sky overhead, she was relieved to see the clouds were tinged with pink as dawn touched the sky.

Dawn, she sighed thankfully. Thank you God, she prayed aloud. Thank you for the light of day and for sparing me from the whirlpool and the storm.

She was shivering violently from being constantly immersed and decided to try and haul herself up onto the main trunk of the tree now that the conditions were slightly calmer. It took some time to extricate herself from the broken branches and haul herself onto the trunk, and she was immensely thankful that the tree remained stable and upright despite the change in balance by the time she sat astride the main trunk.

From her new vantage point she would wait until the big swells picked the tree up, and when it was on the wave’s crest she quickly looked in all directions for signs of the ship, but there was nothing to be seen except wild seas and she nearly burst into tears.

Ameliana had felt sure that with the coming of day her friends would soon find her, or at least be nearby, but as the morning wore on and the sun climbed higher into the black clouds there was still no sign of Ghost Runner.

She never lost hope, and as the sun beat down on her she began to revel in the sun’s warmth and brightness after the bone-chilling cold of the black night spent in the water. In the distance she could hear the roar of the whirlpool and she prayed it wouldn’t suck the tree back into its gaping mouth.

By midmorning the wind had ceased altogether and the remaining clouds were sucked away towards the east with the receding storm. She began to find her foul-weather gear and woollen jumpers to be a burden as the sun beat down, making her hot and uncomfortable in the heavy, sodden clothing. She began removing them piece by sodden piece until she was semi-naked, leaving just her oilskin pants on to prevent chafing of her inner thighs and buttocks on the rough bark of the tree. Immediately she began to feel better as the sun rejuvenated her cold, crinkled skin after being in sodden clothing for so long.

Ameliana carefully draped her clothes over the branches to allow them to dry in the sunshine, and once she was satisfied they would not fall off and float away she sat back and sighed. She swept her tangled hair up off her forehead, and raising her face to the sun closed her eyes and basked in the glory of the warmth. For a brief moment in time she put aside her worries and fears and began to meditate on the sounds and smells assailing her senses.

Time stood still and she had no idea if an hour had passed or just mere moments, when of a sudden her senses alerted her to imminent danger. She came back to the present with a start, and her eyes opened wide as she looked about trying to find the reason for her extreme disquiet.

There was nothing untoward to be seen on the horizon, but when she felt something abrasive rub against her left foot, she jerked her leg up out of the water in alarm. Looking down she saw blood oozing from her grazed foot and to her horror saw the fin of a large shark slicing through the water just beyond the branches. She estimated the dark shadow to be at least twelve feet long, and she shivered as if the proverbial goose had walked over her grave.

She realised that her many bleeding cuts and scratches must have been leaving a trail of blood in the water, and the acute olfactory senses of the large predator had little trouble in detecting the scent of blood and following it to its source. As the dark shadow turned and circled back, she saw the distinctive head of one of the most fearless and aggressive of all the sharks she had ever encountered, the hammerhead shark, and she was instantly filled with fear and dread.

She felt helpless as she sat astride the tree with her feet up on the tree trunk watching the deadly menace as it slowly circled.

The only weapon she had was her throwing knife in its sheath attached to her belt, but she knew it would be almost useless against the tough, abrasive skin of the hammerhead. Her only chance, if worst came to worst, would be to try and stab the shark in its eye, or its gills which were its only vulnerable areas. But she knew she would probably only have one chance at it, one very slim chance.

Ameliana’s eyes never left the circling shark for a second, and as it cruised slowly passed her again she saw the beast raise one side of its elongated head out of the water, exposing one lidless eye that stared at her with such evil intent she shuddered and then whimpered.

A large swell suddenly picked the tree up, and as it lifted her to its apex she again searched the horizon, ever hopeful that rescue was near to hand, but once more she was to be disappointed. All too soon the swell raced on by, and as she sank down into the trough she looked around for the lurking man-eater. To her horror she saw it coming straight towards her on the opposite side of the tree, and the shark looked like it was intent on ramming the tree trunk to try and dislodge her.

Mesmerised, she watched it getting closer and closer, until at the last possible moment before it collided with the trunk right beneath where she sat, the hammerhead dived. Its large dorsal fin narrowly missed the tree, and she shuddered at what might have been if she’d been knocked into the water.

An idea came to her and with a critical eye she turned her attention to the stout branches of the tree. She found one that was straighter than most and of a suitable thickness, length and strength. She then carefully eased herself along the trunk until she was able to grab hold of the branch, and with a few good hard pulls managed to snap it off near the trunk. Deftly she broke off the unwanted twigs and smaller branches, and finished trimming it with her knife until she was left with a five foot long length of timber half as thick as her wrist, which would be perfect for what she had in mind.

Placing her knife blade between her teeth with the razor sharp edge facing out, she then removed her leather belt holding up her pants. After putting the knife’s sheath in her pocket for safe keeping, she began to make an effective spear by binding the knife handle to the end of the stick with her leather belt. When it was completed to her satisfaction she hefted it and checked it for balance and made several practice lunges, aiming at an imaginary, lidless eye.

Perfect, she murmured to herself with a new-found confidence she hadn’t felt since sighting the grey predator of the deep. Looking about for the shark, she was unable to see it and began to hope it had lost interest and swum away.

Five minutes passed with no further sign of the shark, and Ameliana was just beginning to relax her guard when the tree was shoved violently skywards as it was rammed from beneath by the shark. The force of the attack caused the tree to roll over, and before she could even scream, Ameliana fell backwards into the water, followed closely by the trunk of the tree that narrowly missed her head as it crashed back down with a mighty splash.

Retaining her grip on the shaft of her new spear she scrambled nimbly back onto the upturned tree trunk, all the while imagining gaping jaws with their row upon row of pointed, sharp teeth about to snap shut on her kicking legs.

As she caught her breath and tried to calm her madly beating heart, she saw that her wounds were bleeding again and dripping into the water. She looked about for the hammerhead and saw it about twenty feet away slowly circling the tree.

Something dark in the water on the periphery of her vision caused her heart to miss a beat, but when she looked closer she was horrified to see that her clothes had been dislodged when the tree turned over and were now floating away.

Damn, she swore aloud, as she knew only too well that if she wasn’t rescued soon she would need her clothes to keep the searing tropical sun off her and to keep her warm once the sun went down.

She tried to use her spear to catch hold of her woollen jumper that was the closest garment, but it had drifted too far away to reach. Without any thought of the consequences, she was about to slip into the water to retrieve it when she saw the grey shadow swimming towards her clothing. The strong scent of blood coming from her torn clothing had attracted the carnivorous denizen of the deep, and it twitched in eager anticipation at the prospect of fresh meat.

Normally the hammerhead would approach a prospective meal with caution, by first circling it several times and gradually tightening the circle until it could nose up to the meal in question and see if it was edible. But the fresh blood caused it to throw caution aside as it opened its mouth wide and half swallowed the thick jumper. The huge shark then thrashed its head from side to side in a frenzy as it tried to dislodge the choking wool, but the fibres caught in its formidable rows of teeth, and the more it bit down and chewed at the wool, the