Chapter 2--A Key in the Dark

A/N: I'm still dancing at the response to the first chapter--every one of you reviewers rock! Sorry I haven't replied to some reviews; I'll get right on it. In the meantime, here's chapter two. Disney owns Treasure Planet. Robert Louis Stevenson owns anything I borrow from Treasure Island. Cubrea Ymtic owns the story idea. I simply draw inspiration from these sources. Trust me, you wouldn't want me to own this.


I'm still not sure how long I stayed in the brig of the Legacy. All I knew was that it was too long. My mind replayed events like an annoying video. I watched.

Watched Doppler and Amelia go down in flames.

Watched my father leave me. Forget about me.

Watched Silver do the same.

I had to bite my lips to keep from screaming: "Stop!" I didn't feel like listening to the crew heckle me if they heard.

Now what could I do?


Suddenly I awakened and lifted my head up. The brig was now so dark that I could see nothing at all, so I guessed it was night.

What made me wake up?

I heard it again. The noise I'd heard in my dream a few seconds ago. A jarring, scraping sound.

My first thought was, "Oh, God, Scroop's in here. I don't want to put up with him now."

"Who's there?" I whispered.

The metallic scraping continued. Shaking, I stretched my hand out towards where I knew the bars of my cell were.

Something hard and cold immediately pressed itself into my palm. Startled, I dropped it, only to find that a second later, it was in my hand again. I touched it carefully and realized it was a huge metal file.

How on earth did I end up with a file?

Wait a minute...

"Morph?" I asked the file, feeling stupid but rather hopeful.

The file trembled in my hands, then chirruped as it melted into the familiar warm blob I knew was Morph.

"How did you get in here? What are you doing?" I demanded.

The creature shifted himself into a glass lantern, with a small golden flame. I held him up to the bars, squinting in the first light I'd had for hours. He, as a file, had sawed away more than half of one of the bars. I could see flakes of metal on the damp floor, glittering in the lantern's light.

"Oh," I said. "Thanks!"

The lantern in my hand quivered, became the file, and dropped away from me. I heard the file start to dig into the metal bar again.

"Morph, wait. I've got a better idea."

A chirp of "Huh?"

"Yeah. Get into the keyhole and see what you can do, okay?"

Morph babbled excitedly, "Get into the keyhole! Get into the keyhole!" Then I heard tiny bangs, clatters and giggles coming from the locked cell door. I guessed Morph was having the time of his life in there.

"Key!" Morph chattered when he was done exploring the keyhole.

"Yeah, key," I echoed, holding my hand out. "Now, I've got another idea. Why don't--"

Morph was way ahead of me. An iron key dropped into my hand.

"Yes!" I hissed, pushing myself off my knees and to my feet. Morph trembled and cooed in my hand, but he had sense enough to stay key-shaped. I reached out blindly with my other hand, trying to find the door. My fingertips hit a wall of bars. The wrong wall.

"Uh, Morph, which way's the door?" I asked.

Morph shifted his position in my hand, so he was pointing where I hoped the door was. I altered course, stepping gingerly in the direction Morph was facing. After a minute, I found the door.

"If we get out of this," I said to Morph, as I pushed him and my arm between the bars, "you can have as many of those little biscuits as you want."

"As many as you want!" Morph chirped happily. I thrust him into the lock.

The brig door suddenly burst open, and the light of stars and a candle spilled on the floor. I froze, unable to pull Morph out of the lock and my arm back into the cell. "Playtime, cabin boy!" the last voice I wanted to hear sang out.

I was trapped.

Scroop crept in, a lit candle in one claw, yellow eyes glowing. He stopped when he saw me with Morph the key in the lock. "What--" he stammered; by the dim candlelight I thought there was amazement, and maybe even admiration on his face. Then his eyes became slits, and he growled at me. "Finish the job."

I didn't move. "What?"

"If you're stupid enough to try and get out of here, you better be stupid enough to actually get out."

I still didn't move.

"Get out of there," Scroop ordered again.

Though I would've felt much safer behind the bars, I slowly unlocked the door. Morph trembled in my hand as I turned him. The bolt slid back with a dull thud, and I creaked the door open and stepped out of the cell.

As soon as I had closed the cell door, Scroop's claw slammed into my face. I staggered away, and my head clanged loudly against the bars behind me. I could feel Morph slip out of my hands, and I heard his terrified squeal--then I lost consciousness.


And there you have it. Short and sweet. Please review!