Invisible World Read Online Free PDF

Devils.
    â€œWhy is it called that?” I asked the helmsman, Felipe, one gray, rainy afternoon.
    â€œIt’s a scary place, that’s why,” Felipe replied. “The waters are madly turbulent. Many ships go down by the Bermudas. I have heard reports of a giant, red-clawed hand that rises from the waves and pulls entire ships and their crews down to a watery grave.”
    I could picture the scene and it made me shiver. “Aren’t you afraid to go there?” I asked.
    Felipe shrugged. “Do not worry, my little friend. I have been watching the stars at night. We will pass through the deadly location in calm waters. All will be well.”
    I couldn’t decide if he was telling me the truth or merely making up a tale to dispel my worry. “Are you sure?” I asked.
    â€œVery sure.”
    Down in the lower deck, where Kate, Bronwyn, and I shared a very small space made up of a double-level bed and a cot with our cases clustered around to create a sort of room, Kate attempted to distract herself from constant seasick nausea by reading a volume containing the plays of William Shakespeare.
    â€œHow’s the reading?” I asked her.
    â€œThank the heavens I have these plays or I would lose my mind,” Kate replied.
    Bronwyn came in, wrapped in her heavy blue robe, her hair braided. She peeked at Kate’s open book and smiled. “Ah, you’re reading the Scottish play, my favorite.”
    â€œ Macbeth , yes,” Kate confirmed. “Why is it your favorite?”
    Bronwyn crawled under the covers of the narrow cot she slept in across from us. “Because it’s Scottish and it has the three witches in it,” Bronwyn replied. “They’re really awful, frightening women, but they have all the best lines. Back in the fifteen hundreds, Scotland had terrible witch hunts. My mother told me about them. Her own mother was killed just as your grandmother was. Women were burned without any evidence against them at all.”
    â€œWhy do you think Shakespeare made his witches so evil?” Kate questioned.
    Bronwyn grunted, waving the question away. “Oh, he was playing up to King James the First, who was always ranting about witches. I think the king was just a sharp politician trying to scare his subjects so they’d worry about something other than the irresponsible way he was ruling them.”
    That night I had a nightmare where Kate, Bronwyn, and I were tied to a stake surrounded by straw. A man in a black executioner’s mask was approaching us, a lit torch in his hand. Screaming with fear, I sat bolt upright, blessedly awake once more.
    â€œBethy, what’s wrong?” Kate asked from below.
    â€œOnly a nightmare,” I answered. “Sorry.” After that, I couldn’t fall asleep again. I was probably too frightened the dream might return.
    Days and days passed, some stormy and others so calm that the ship could not seem to move forward at all. On one particular night, the sea was much calmer than usual, and though Kate remained belowdecks, there was color in her pale cheeks for almost the first time since we had departed England.
    â€œWhich play are you reading now?” I inquired as I perched at the foot of her bed.
    â€œIt’s called The Tempest , Shakespeare’s last play,” Kate replied. “Shakespeare was inspired to write about a shipwreck on a deserted island because of the reports he was reading of shipwrecks off the coast of Bermuda and these other islands that we’ll be coming to.”
    â€œRight where we are now?”
    Kate nodded enthusiastically. “The English were only starting to explore the coastline at that time, and the sailors were sending back reports of terrible wrecks.” Kate put the book down. “It’s really a wild story about a wizard and his daughter who are shipwrecked on an island. It’s full of magic and strange happenings.”
    â€œDo you think