Read Online Cerulean Isle by G.M. Browning - Free Book Online Page B

rippled and streamed like a lilac bed sheet, blowing in the wind as the sun forces its way through the fabric. Speechless, I forgot the reason we had come.
    A silver plaque was mounted under the tapestry. I leaned closer to read the engraved words:
    THE MERMAIDEN.
    ANGEL OF THE OCEAN.
    EVER-WATCHFUL KEEPER OF SECRETS.
    “Look at the loot in this place!” said Grant in awe.
    Endless treasure filled the room. Precious amulets and jeweled earrings sat atop tables and shelves. Stacks of silver coins were piled neatly near brass scales. On Captain Shanley’s desk waited mounds of valuable gemstones. Sparkling jewel-encrusted rings and diamond brooches were arranged in meticulous piles. Grant stuffed treasures into the pouch that hung from his belt.
    “Take what you can carry, Jacob,” he said, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
    “You’ve already filled my pouch, remember?” I patted the heavy bag that dangled from my side.
    My thoughts trailed as I searched through the belongings of Jean L’Ollon’s enemy. I kept thinking of the Mermaiden. Is she really out there? Was she one of the Water People who sank L’Ollon’s fleet? She must be real. An artist must have seen her and woven the tapestry to remember her, to capture her for all to see. It was then that a terrible thought occurred to me. I recalled Grant’s words: ‘L’Ollon is on a quest to reclaim his fortune. It begins with Shanley and will end with the Water People.’ If these beautiful creatures truly lived, if they were responsible for the ruin of L’Ollon’s fleet, he meant to kill them.
    I stood motionless at the realization of this. I looked back at the tapestry. Her eyes gazed at me. It was such beautiful artwork, such intimate craftsmanship. I could almost hear the wind and feel the salty mist on my face. I wanted her to come to life within the threadwork and slip into the water where no one could harm her.
    “I found it!” exclaimed Grant. He lifted a painting off its mount to reveal a weathered chart posted to the wall. “This is it, Jacob. It has L’Ollon’s name written on the bottom.” With care, he took it down and folded it small enough to hide in his shirt. “All we need now is that strange book. Any luck over there?”
    I shook my head and stepped away from the tapestry of the Mermaiden.
    “No worries,” he said, “I’ll search that book shelf, and you search the drawers of the desk. Hurry, we’ve got to get to the harbor.”
    Bundles of parchment and scrolls filled the top drawer. I sifted through them and went on to the next. Bottles of ink and extra quills met my digging hands. In the last drawer was a small assortment of leather bound books, and in the middle of them, a shiny blue ribbon caught my eye.
    “I’ve got it!” I tucked the book safely in my shirt and joined my friend at the door.

Chapter 11
The Waterfront
     
    We retreated to the storage room and closed the door behind us. After putting on our shoes, we snaked between the stacks of crates back to the window. We slipped through the open window and stumbled out onto the soft warm earth.
    “It’s time for the hard part,” said Grant. “We must hurry to the waterfront and meet up with Christoff. There is a good chance that blood will spill before night falls. Be brave and keep a readied will.”
    We dashed away from the villa and into the thick growth of palms and fern, the leaves and vines slashing at us as we ran down the jungle-like hillside. The money in my pouch chimed and the deadly short sword clanged against my thigh. Grant ran ahead with the rolled-up sea chart stuffed in his belt.
    Soon the Caribbean Sea gleamed beyond the edge of the forest. We broke from the tree line and raced down a graveled slope and onto a dusty trail that brought us into the heart of Willemstad.
    Rushing through the crowded market, we headed to the harbor. As the scent of the ocean grew stronger, the bitter taste of fear brewed in my mouth. I saw the dozens of masts jabbing