“That sounds awfully complicated,” said Catherine. “Are you sure this is a good plan, rather than simply a plan? It sounds like the sort of convoluted plan that could work in theory, but is unlikely to in practice.”
“Catherine,” said Beatrice suddenly, “When you said the boathouse contained what you would expect to find—did you mean a boat? Was there a boat in the boathouse?”
“Of course there was a boat,” said Catherine. “What else would you expect to find?”
“And was it in good repair? Did it seem seaworthy? After all, Mrs. Polgarth said Miss Trelawny had not used it in a while.”
“How should I know?” said Catherine. “We didn’t go in, just looked through the window. Anyway, I don’t know anything about boats. I would have no idea if it was seaworthy or not.”
“Don’t look at me,” said Diana. “I don’t know anything about boats either. Here are the fools!”
Wenna, the waitress, took the empty plates. Another waitress, older and stouter, set the quince fools, in their individual cups, before each of them. Diana immediately appropriated Beatrice’s.
After Mary had thanked the waitresses and Beatrice had asked for another cup of tea, Mary said, “I think I know what Beatrice is getting at. If they have a boat, they don’t need to go over the causeway. They can sail to the island anytime they wish. Well, so much for stopping them at the causeway, then! We’ll have to retreat to our third line of defense in the chapel.”
“What chapel?” asked Catherine. She spooned all the quince out of her fool and into one of Diana’s, then started eating the custard.
“There is a chapel attached to the castle,” said Beatrice. “It’s a place for contemplation and prayer. The Queen will have a meal with the housekeeper, Mrs. Russell. Then, she will retire to the chapel to pray. It is the one time during her visit that she will be entirely alone. We believe they will be waiting for her there.”
“It would be the logical place to abduct her,” said Mary. “But I wish there was a way we could fight them before they could get so close to the castle itself, and to the Queen! I don’t want to wait that long.”
“Could we destroy Miss Trelawny’s boat?” asked Justine. “We still have an hour until sunset. I could go into the boathouse and break it apart with my hands. If they are planning on sailing to the island tomorrow, they will find the boat in fragments.”
“Oh,” said Mary. “That’s an excellent idea.” Why had she not thought of it herself? She should have thought of it. She was the planner, wasn’t she? “All right, Catherine can show you where the boathouse is located. You’d better start soon, though. You don’t want to get lost on the cliffs in the dark. If they can’t use the boat, they’ll have to go over the causeway, and we’ll be waiting for them. Cat, I’m sorry it’s not a better plan, but it’s all I could come up with. Look, it’s already six o’clock. I think you’d better get to the boathouse with Justine, and we’d better go shopping for the material we need.
“Wait,” said Catherine. “What is our third line of defense? You said there was a third line. What are we supposed to do in the chapel?”
“Well, to be honest, we hadn’t quite worked that out,” said Mary. “Some of us will have to hide in the chapel, of course. And then—we protect the Queen anyway we can? You and I will have our pistols, Diana will have her knife, and of course Beatrice and Justine have their own defenses. But if the Queen is there, fighting in the chapel could put Her Majesty in danger.”
“I have an idea,” said Beatrice. “I was thinking of the myth of Perseus. When he went to fight Medusa, the goddess Athena gave him a certain weapon.… I do not know if my idea will work, but perhaps it’s worth trying.”
“What is it?” asked Diana. Her mouth was full of quince fool. Why couldn’t she close her mouth when she chewed?
“Let me think about it a little more before I describe it to you,” said Beatrice. “It may be a foolish idea after all.”
“Anything is worth trying at this point, foolish or not,” said Mary. “All right, let’s reconvene in, what, an hour? Cat and Justine, you’re going to destroy the boat. Beatrice, Diana, and I will go shopping for equipment and supplies. We’ll meet again at seven o’clock in Justine and Beatrice’s room, which doesn’t have Diana’s clothes scattered all over it. Then, we’ll have an hour to get to the causeway.”
DIANA: It had Catherine’s clothes all over it as well. She’s as messy as I am, so I don’t know why you’re always complaining about me.
CATHERINE: Pumas don’t fold their clothes.
DIANA: Pumas this, pumas that! I think you’re using being a puma to avoid all the rules the rest of us have to follow. Anyway, I bet you’re making half of this puma stuff up.
CATHERINE: What do you know about pumas, monkey girl?
JUSTINE: Catherine, I must admit, Diana does have a point. You mention being a puma when you wish to avoid some sort of obligation or responsibility.
CATHERINE: You realize that to a puma, you’re all just meat?
“What do you mean the boat wasn’t there?” said Mary an hour later, when they were all sitting in Justine and Beatrice’s room.
“I mean it wasn’t in the boathouse,” said Catherine. “They knew we were there today, searching for the keep. They must have anticipated that we would come back to stop them somehow. The keep was there, by the way—a large, square tower. Diana and I couldn’t possibly have missed it this morning if Queen Tera hadn’t been messing with our heads. Justine broke the lock on the front door of the keep—since they already know about us, I thought we might as well. We went inside, but we couldn’t find anything. We looked all over for Alice and Mr. Holmes, but everyone was gone. Once I thought we heard a cry of some sort, but it was just a big black cat. It was creepy in there, with all those Egyptian artifacts!”
“If they know we’re trying to stop them, the logical thing for them to do is sail to the island tonight and stay hidden somewhere until daybreak,” said Mary. “Well, there goes our second line of defense! I guess there’s no reason for us to guard the causeway. We should focus on the beacon and chapel. Beatrice found everything she needed.”
“Rags,” said Beatrice, holding up a large bundle. “A gallon of camphine, which will burn hotter and brighter than turpentine. Pepper, alcohol, and two atomizers, just like the ones we used in Budapest. And look…” She held up a silver hand mirror. “We purchased it from a shop of old furniture and bibelots on Turnpike Road. I’m afraid Mary had to pay a rather high price since it’s an antique. I cannot guarantee it will work, but Tera’s weapon is light—therefore, we will attempt to deflect it, or reflect it back at her. Like Perseus with his shield. And we bought five rucksacks, such as scouts use for hiking and camping, to carry it all.”
Catherine looked at the pile of equipment on the floor dubiously. “These aren’t particularly powerful weapons to use against Queen Tera and Mrs. Raymond. Even with our pistols, we’re inadequately armed.”
“Well, they’re what we have,” said Mary, frustrated. She agreed with Catherine, but did not want to say so. It would not help to carp and criticize. “We will simply have to do the best we can. Do you want to save the Queen or not?”
Catherine did not look particularly satisfied with that answer. “Of course, but I would rather not be electrocuted by a two-thousand-year-old mummy in the process! All right, how do we carry all this stuff? Will it fit in the rucksacks? Also, we need different clothes. I don’t know about you, but I’m not fighting Tera in an afternoon frock.”
Half an hour later, the five of them stood on the rocky shore below Marazion, dressed in clothes borrowed from Diana’s friends the ostlers, with rucksacks on their backs. Luckily, some of the boys were rather big, although Justine’s ankles showed beneath too-short trousers. Mary stared at the causeway. In the light of the full moon, it shone like a silver ribbon across the black water. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s do what we have to do.”
As she stepped on the wet, moonlit
stones, she offered up a small prayer: Dear Lord, let me not drown tonight. If I have to die, let it be tomorrow, on dry land. Amen.
CHAPTER XV
Abduction at St. Michael’s Mount
By the time the sky began to lighten, Mary was stiff and cold and very, very cross. They had crossed the causeway without mishap the night before, although Justine had twisted her ankle as they had climbed from the village to the bottom of the path that led up the hill. Even here, the way was treacherous, filled with stones that could trip you and send you tumbling. Mary wondered once again how the Queen would make it all the way up to the castle, even if she was carried. Well, hopefully she would never set foot on St. Michael’s Mount!
Justine had insisted that she would be fine, and Beatrice had felt her ankle in the darkness to make sure it was not broken. The logical place for them to wait out the night had been a stone dairy at the bottom of the path. Luckily, all the cows were out on the hillside—they would not come in until morning for milking. There was enough room in it for the five of them to sleep on a pile of fresh hay, although only four were in the dairy at present. Diana was asleep, leaning against Justine. Catherine was curled up in one corner, exactly like a cat. Only Beatrice was not there. She was out in the garden, sitting somewhere among the plants. She did not want to poison the air inside the building.
Mary had slept only fitfully, leaning against her rucksack, which contained her pistol, a bottle of pepper spray, the silver mirror, and a bunch of rags. She simply could not make herself sleep anymore. She was too cold and, she had to admit, too worried about what that day would bring. Would they be able to save the Queen? Would they be alive at the end of it, or small white piles of ash? She did not want to think of that possibility. Neither did she want to stay here, staring into the darkness with nothing to do! Quietly, so as not to wake the others, she got up and went out into the cold morning. The sun would be rising soon, although the sky was so cloudy you could only tell because it was a lighter shade of gray. Rosy-fingered dawn indeed! This dawn was wearing gray gloves. It was just light enough for Mary to find her way around without stumbling over anything. She did not want to twist her ankle as well.
She found Beatrice sitting in a flower bed beneath one of the rocky cliffs, where she could be seen from the castle only by someone looking down directly from the south terrace. When she saw Mary, the Poisonous Girl smiled. She looked more content than she had for a long time.
“Good morning,” she said as Mary walked up to her.
“Is it?” said Mary. “I mean, I suppose it is. I suppose all mornings are good, in a sense. The world wakes up again, and no matter what else is happening, the birds are singing, the trees are growing.… This castle has been here for hundreds of years, this island for thousands. Or do I mean hundreds of thousands? Anyway, I suppose in that long history, our actions mean very little.”
“You are philosophical this morning,” said Beatrice. “What has caused this mood?”
“I don’t know,” said Mary. “Perhaps the thought that we might die today? We’ve always had help before—from Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson, from Irene Norton and Mina Murray and Count Dracula. We’ve never been on our own, just the five of us. And we’ve never been up against anyone as strong as Queen Tera.”
“That is true,” said Beatrice.
“Do you believe our souls go to Heaven after we die?”
“I am a good Catholic,” said Beatrice. “But somehow, I have always though that my soul would return to the Earth and come up as some sort of plant—a flower, a tree. Perhaps I do not have a soul as others do. I would like to sink down into the dark soil and come up again each spring. That would be Heaven enough for me.”
Mary looked at her doubtfully. “If you say so. Personally, I would rather not die, at least not yet. But if I had to die, I would like to go someplace where I could see all the people I care about.”
“Are you thinking of Mr. Holmes?” asked Beatrice.
“What? No—I mean, I don’t know. I was thinking of you and Cat and Justine, and, yes, Diana. Mrs. Poole, of course. Alice, Mina, Irene… so many people. And of course Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson.”
“Mary, it is sometimes permissible to lie to others, but it is never wise to lie to oneself.” Beatrice plucked a leaf of some sort and began to chew on it. That was probably her idea of breakfast!
“What do you mean? I’m not lying to myself! Anyway, what about you and Clarence?”
Beatrice looked up at her, startled. “But I’m not lying to myself about the fact that I am poisonous. Do I feel love for him? Yes, I cannot deny it. Perhaps if I loved him less, I would try to give him what he wants—my companionship. What you would call a relationship. Then he would become poisonous, as I am. Would I want to place on him a burden I have borne all my life? Could I do that to a man I love? And imagine, Mary, if we had children. They would be poisonous as well. I could not birth more creatures such as myself. I am not my father—I will not create a race of monsters.”
“You’ve really thought this through,” said Mary, feeling a pang in her chest—pity for both Beatrice and herself. The Poisonous Girl looked so sad! Mary wanted to put her arms around Beatrice and comfort her. But that was the whole problem, wasn’t it? No ordinary human being would ever be able to comfort Beatrice in that way. Justine could breathe her poison, Count Dracula could heal from her burns… but the man she loved was denied to her. Was that Mary’s situation as well? Of course, what she felt for Mr. Holmes was different—compounded of regard for his intellect, respect for the work he did.… No. Beatrice was right, she needed to stop lying to herself. Regard and respect were the wrong words altogether.
“I’ve had to think it through, since he will not. Clarence believes we shall be together someday, and I cannot convince him otherwise. Sometimes, I do not even wish to try. Look, dew on the acanthus leaves.” Beatrice rubbed the dew on her hands and then rubbed her hands against her face. “It is good for the complexion.”
“I’ll stick with cold cream and Pear’s soap, thank you very much,” said Mary. “We should probably get back to the others.”
Beatrice stood up and drew on her gloves, then offered Mary a hand. Mary took it and pulled herself up. The bottom of her trousers, where she had been sitting, was damp.
“Forgive me, Mary, I do not mean to pry into your affairs, but you should tell Mr. Holmes how you feel—that you care for him.”
“What if I’m not sure how I feel about him?”
“I think you are sure—you simply do not want to admit it to yourself. Listen! I hear a lark, high up in the heavens. Is its song not beautiful? I wonder what it is doing here. They usually stay inland and do not venture over water.”
“Yes, very nice,” said Mary. A lark was some sort of bird, wasn’t it? Someone had written a poem about a lark—something something blithe spirit, bird thou never wert, except that a lark was in fact a bird, as far as she could remember. She herself was more familiar with pigeons and sparrows. She felt a raindrop on her face, and then another. The lark continued making lark noises. When they reached the dairy, Catherine and Justine were awake. Diana was still asleep, with her head on Mary’s rucksack.
“Let sleeping Dianas lie!” said Mary and Catherine in unison. Mary smiled. Well, if she was going to die today, at least it would be among friends.
They ate a breakfast of hard ginger biscuits called fairings that they had bought at the general store. Mary wished very much for some tea, or even a little milk, to wash the biscuits down with, but this morning, at least, they must do without.
“Let’s go over the plans again,” said Catherine. “When we get to the chapel, Beatrice and Diana will climb up the tower. The rest of us will hide in the family pews. And then we wait. As soon as Beatrice sees the Queen’s yacht approach the harbor and the barge set out to meet it, she will light the beacon. Hopefully someone in the yacht will understand that it’s a warning and start to withdraw. If it does not and the Queen steps onto the barge, Dian
a will run down and tell us. At that point, it will be our task to capture Miss Trelawny, Mrs. Raymond, and Queen Tera as soon as they enter the chapel, before they can get to the Queen.” She turned to Mary. “Why can’t we just capture them now and avoid all this fuss? I know what their boat looks like. I can probably spot it in the harbor.”
“First of all, I doubt that,” said Mary. “You couldn’t even describe it when I asked. And second of all, they’re probably no longer on it. They’re probably hidden in one of the village houses or up at the castle. Remember they can make themselves invisible—there’s no reason for them to stay out all night in this weather when they can find more comfortable accommodations. I bet they’re somewhere much nicer than a cow house! They are on this island, and we have no idea where. Our best opportunity will be right here in the chapel. They will need to come here to capture the Queen, so as soon as we see them, we’ll do our best to capture them instead! And after we’ve saved Her Majesty, we will make them tell us where they’ve hidden Alice and Mr. Holmes. They weren’t in the keep, so where are they?”
The Sinister Mystery of the Mesmerizing Girl Page 33