“Where are we going?” They’d been at sea for a week now and Danny was ready to spend some of their vacation in London instead of in salt spray.
“Here, take a look.” Jen tossed Danny a square of paper that he caught against his face.
“A map?” He unfolded it as he spoke. “I don’t know how to read a sextant or whatever, how is this supposed to help?” He peered at the open map. “And especially how’s a map from 1706 supposed to help?”
“Look at it. We’re west of England by about two hundred miles, plus maybe thirty south. See anything?”
“‘Heer be drachens.’ What? Really?” Danny threw the open map back at Jen. “You know there weren’t really dragons there, right?”
“Look!” Danny followed her outstretched hand to a tiny spit of land, barely more than a cabin-sized pile of rocks on a tennis court of pebbled ground.
They pulled ashore. “Seriously, Jen. What’s the point?”
“This, jackass.” She stood up from a cleft in the rocks holding a cracked, hollow rock the size of a watermelon. “The next piece of the puzzle.” Danny’s jaw slacked as he recognized the rock for the eggshell it was.