Box of Secrets

by Raquel Lyon

“I was.”

  “And you understand the seriousness of his crime?”

  “To be truthful, a touch more information would not have gone amiss.” As soon as he witnessed the king’s thunderous expression, Rixton regretted speaking out of term.

  “Do you or do you not know why he was imprisoned?”

  Rixton bowed his head. “He wished to locate his father.”

  “A man who was on a mission of utmost secrecy. Your friend’s unwillingness to accept my refusal put that mission in jeopardy—as have you. Did you honestly think you could get away with it?” The clank of a nearby door’s latch prevented Rixton’s reply, and his tension softened as the queen appeared. Soon, she would admit his actions were on her orders, and he would be pardoned.

  “Oban? What is going on?” she asked.

  “I am attending to business, my dear. Please return to the bedchamber.”

  “I will not,” she said, her chin high. “These walls are not as thick as you would perhaps wish.”

  “What I wish is for you to not concern yourself in this matter.”

  “I regret it is too late for that. What I heard cannot be unheard. You have not been honest with me, Oban.”

  “I did not want to worry you.”

  “About what?”

  “It pains me to tell you that, against the odds, the traitor boy has escaped, but you need not worry. We will find him before the Resistance get their hands upon him.”

  The queen afforded Rixton the briefest of glances. “How can you be sure?”

  “Septamus has dispatched a segment of the Guard to track him down. He will be back where he belongs before the week is out.” The king stood abruptly and dragged Rixton to his feet. “Sooner, when this boy discloses his exact location.”

  Over the king’s shoulder, Rixton caught the look of warning flashing in the queen’s eyes. Her worries were clear, but were they for him or herself? After all, it was apparent she had no intention of owning up to her part.

  The king drew his face so close to Rixton’s that their noses almost touched. “Where is Lambert Croft?”

  “I-Imprisoned.”

  “Do not play games with me, boy. You were seen.”

  Rixton stood strong. The king knew nothing. There was no way he could have been seen. The queen had ensured his safe passage—or had she?

  “Where is the box?” the king bellowed.

  “I do not know.”

  “You lie. Perhaps your memory will return after some persuasion.”

  The king dropped Rixton to the floor, and without warning, a blinding pain shot through his head, as though a convocation of eagles were tearing at his brain. White light stabbed at his eyes, burning into his very soul. He screamed for it to stop, as somewhere beyond his consciousness, the queen’s protests filtered through his agony.

  “Enough, Oban. He is just a boy.”

  “And as much of a traitor as the other.”

  “You do not know that, but I know you are a just and kind king, and as such, I call upon your love for me and beg you to stop.”

  Rixton’s pain eased, only to be replaced by nausea. He curled into a ball and willed it to subside.

  King Oban collapsed into his chair and cradled his head in his hands. “What am I to do, Aemylia? We have kept our secret well, and now, with our people’s freedom imminent, all could be lost.”

  The queen laid a calming hand on his shoulder. “Have faith, my darling. As I do. Wherever the prisoner is, he cannot escape without his key.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  WHEN SHE AWOKE THE NEXT morning, it took Piper a second to realise where she was. Her bed was so comfortable she’d slept straight through the night. She rolled onto her side, found herself staring at the box, and felt a strong desire to know how it worked. What would happen if she could pick the lock somehow? Would she open it to find a three-inch-tall Lambert staring up at her?

  Yawning, she threw back the covers and went to the dressing table. It was at times like these she wished she was a girlie girl who kept a stash of hairgrips. She picked up the box and held the lock at eye level to squint into the hole, unsure of what she expected to see. All she saw was darkness. Surely, if he’d been telling the truth, she should be able to see the glow of the candle, or something. “Lambert? Can you hear me?” she called. “Lambert?” She held the box to her ear, but if he was answering, she couldn’t hear. Giving it up as a lost cause, she set the box down, got dressed, and went downstairs in search of company.

  The ground floor was eerily quiet and the living room deserted. She paused in the hallway, with the vastness of the house stretched before her, and debated where to search next. Realising she’d been in precisely four rooms—five if you counted her bathroom—she had no idea where to start. There were so many others. Before she had a chance to choose one, the front door opened and slammed to a close as a boy entered.

  “Wassup,” he said, cocking his chin as he strode past. “You Piper?”

  “How did you know?”

  “I hear things.”

  “Are you Sophie’s brother?” Piper asked.

  “That’s me,” he said, heading for the stairs.

  Piper watched his brown hair bob as he climbed, trying to decide whether he was an early riser or had pulled an all-nighter. Then, remembering what Beth had said, she plumped for the all-nighter. “Do you know where she might be? Or Beth?” she called after him.

  “Try the kitchen.”

  Kitchen. Why hadn’t she thought of that? “Um... Where is that?”

  His arm stretched lazily out over the banister, and he pointed down the corridor.

  She followed his lead, found three doors at the end, and entered through the one emitting sounds of clanking crockery.

  “Morning,” Beth said, looking up from her cereal. “Grab a pew and fill your boots. We have a long day ahead.”

  Piper hitched herself onto a stool next to the island in the centre of the kitchen, which held more different types of breakfast food than she’d ever seen in one place. “We do? Don’t you have to work?” she asked.

  “Not today.” Beth angled her head to look at Piper’s feet. “I hope those are comfortable shoes.”

  “Why? Where are we going?” Piper asked as she debated where to start.

  “I spent all last night searching revealing spells and couldn’t find any reference to your results, so I had to ask for help. I contacted my mentor, Mathanway. She’s very interested to meet you.”

  “What do you mean, mentor? Is that like a teacher?”

  “Yes, but she’s also one of the most powerful sorceresses you’ll ever meet.”

  Piper filled a bagel with delicious smelling bacon and accepted a cup of steaming coffee. “Um... okay. How did you meet her?”

  “Long story.”

  “I’ll take the edited version.”

  “I ate some chocolates laced with magical poison. Mathanway saved me, but it left a trace of her magic behind. She helped me nurture and develop it.”

  “And that’s how you became a witch?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Why did you eat poisoned chocolates?”

  “I didn’t know they were poisoned. They weren’t even mine.”

  Damn, the bacon was good, Piper thought. She hadn’t been able to afford bacon since her father left. Would she appear greedy if she had some more? “Whose were they?”

  “Mine, actually,” Sophie interrupted. “Beth was pestering me to open them. I told her to help herself.”

  “Where did they come from?”

  “I had no idea, at the time,” Sophie said. “They were a gift—from a jealous girlfriend, as it turned out.”

  “Your husband’s?”

  “No. A man named Vincent Reith.”

  “I think I’ve heard that name before.”

  “Possibly. He owns Despots.”

  “Ah, that’s right. Creepy guy.”

  “I thought so too, at first, but he’s actually really nice... and a good fri
end.” Sophie stood to take the dirty dishes to the sink. Piper turned back to Beth.

  “So... this sorceress—”

  “Mathanway,” Beth said.

  “Yeah, her. Do you think she’ll know why I was spitting fire?”

  “I hope so. If she doesn’t, I don’t know of anyone who might.”

  Piper thought about how much she wanted to continue her conversation with Lambert, and in order to do that, she had to be back by sunset. “Is her house far?” she asked.

  “Far?” Beth chuckled. “You could say that. It’s in a whole other realm.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Another realm.”

  “Like another country? I told you, I haven’t been anywhere. I don’t have a passport.”

  “Oh, you won’t be needing a passport. The Supes have a very special way to travel to other worlds. You’re gonna love it... and maybe puke a little.”

  Piper was intrigued, but Beth wouldn’t elaborate. She insisted that the sooner Piper finished eating, the sooner she would discover whatever the big secret was, so she chewed as fast as she could and gulped down a second cup of coffee.

  When their stomachs were full, Beth said goodbye to Sophie, picked up a stool, and beckoned for Piper to follow her through a nearby door concealing a long stairway.

  “Why are we going down here?” Piper asked.

  “You’ll see,” Beth answered.

  “What’s the stool for?”

  “You ask too many questions.”

  “And you’re too evasive.”

  Beth simply smiled as they entered a vast, empty cellar with a singular door in the opposing wall. She walked purposefully towards it.

  Through the door were more rooms with more doors, each one taking them deeper underground, until eventually, they reached the last one, cave-like in appearance, with fire torches illuminating the walls. In the centre, a wooden column, as tall as they were, flickered in the orange glow.

  “Why is there a totem pole in the cellar?” Piper asked. “I know that’s another question, but I think it’s a valid one.”

  “It’s called a terraplunger, and it’s our transport.”

  Piper let out a small laugh. “How?”

  Beth placed the stool next to the column. “You’re about to find out. Go around the other side and give me a hand to turn it, will you? It looks like Seb’s been on his travels since I was last here.”

  Piper looked closer at the strange markings carved into the wood as she did as she was told. They appeared to be a form of ancient rune set in lines around the circumference. “What do these mean?”

  “They’re coordinates. We need to align the correct combination up to this mark. Now grab hold of the top two layers and twist anticlockwise until... yep, that’ll do. And now the top layer clockwise two notches. Perfect.”

  Piper flexed her fingers, unused to manual labour. “Why don’t you just magic it into position?”

  “The terraplunger has a magic of its own. That magic must remain pure.” She patted the stool. “Up you get.”

  “Up where?”

  “Onto the terraplunger, of course.”

  With the aid of the stool, Piper climbed up and waited for Beth to join her. Nervous butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she wondered what would happen next, but she didn’t have long to think about it.

  “Hang tight,” Beth said, stomping her foot on a raised nodule. “Here we go.”

  Piper’s butterflies mingled with bile and bacon bagels as the room spun around her in a blur of orange and brown, and she struggled to hold on to her breakfast. She wanted to speak, but pressure from the air around her was squeezing her lungs so tight she could hardly breathe. If this went on any longer, she was going to pass out.

  Then, much to her relief, the orange mutated into grey and slowed to a stop. At least Piper presumed it had stopped. Her head was still spinning so much it was difficult to tell. Where was she? She turned her head slowly, not daring to move too much, and her eyes followed the stone walls to a small opening. “You were right,” she said. “I’m going to puke.”

  “Take a deep breath,” Beth said. “You’ll be fine.”

  Piper gulped the bracing air whistling through the cave’s entrance, but her nausea remained. “It’s not helping.”

  Beth waved her hand. “Aegerpello,” she said.

  Immediately, Piper’s nausea abated. “Thanks,” she said, about to ask why Beth hadn’t done that immediately, but Beth had already jumped down from the top of the terraplunger they’d arrived upon and was standing at the cave’s entrance. Piper joined her and gazed out at the view.

  She’d had no time to picture their destination, but she wasn’t expecting to see something so normal. They were high up a hillside, and below them, the green of the countryside stretched into the distance.

  “Where exactly are we going?” she asked. “There’s nothing around here for miles.”

  Beth answered her question with one of her own. “How good is your eyesight?”

  “Pretty good.”

  Beth pointed to the horizon. “See that hill over there, at the other side of the forest?”

  “Yeah.”

  “There’s a tiny, white spot, just to the left of that craggy bit of cliff.”

  “Ah huh. I see it.”

  “That’s Mathanway’s house.”

  “But it’s miles away!”

  “Hence the need for sturdy shoes.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  PIPER STOPPED TO CATCH her breath. It seemed as though they’d been walking for hours. “Are you sure we aren’t lost?” she called to Beth, striding on ahead. “We haven’t even gone through the forest, and I know we’d have hit it if we were going in a straight line.”

  “I admit to taking a detour around that particular area, but unless you’d fancied being on the menu of the giant, man-eating beetles who live there, it wouldn’t have been a good idea,” Beth shouted back far too cheerily.

  Giant, man-eating beetles? Piper would have liked to think that Beth was teasing her, but experience had taught her she was probably telling the truth, so despite her aching feet screaming otherwise, she was grateful for the alternative route.

  Walking further, they climbed to the peak of a grassy mound. At the top, a glare of sunlight hit Piper’s eyes. She squinted at the source. The sun was reflecting off a tiny window set into a section of white-painted cliff side. Finally, they had arrived.

  A pretty garden of wild flowers surrounded by a white picket fence fronted Mathanway’s strange dwelling. Beth opened the gate and led the way down the flagged path to the front door. “Just a warning,” she said as she knocked. “Ignore anything her manservant says. He hates everybody, so don’t take it personally.”

  “Um... okay.”

  The door creaked open to reveal a short, rotund man. Piper tried not stare too hard at his balding head and wizened face, as his lip curled. “You again,” he said.

  Beth’s smile was sickly sweet. “Nice to see you too, Mollo.”

  “Can ya fulfil the requirement?” he grumbled.

  “You know full well I’m practically family and I don’t need to bring a gift.”

  Mollo grunted something indistinguishable, as he turned to Piper and eyed her suspiciously. “She ain’t.”

  “She’s with me,” Beth said, her frustration growing. “Now stop being such a grouch and let us in.”

  With a reluctant scowl, Mollo eased the door open enough for them to slip through, then closed it quickly behind them. “Mistress is in the potion room. Follow me.”

  “No need. I know the way, and she’s expecting us.”

  More grunting sounded from his hunched form as he shuffled through a nearby archway and out of sight.

  Piper took in her surroundings as she followed Beth further underground. It was as though she’d entered an igloo. Every wall gleamed white as snow with smooth, curved contours and not a single sharp line in sight. For a cave, it was beautiful. When they reached
a door, Beth knocked.

  “Enter,” said a regal, female voice.

  “Good morning,” Beth said. “I brought Piper like you asked.”

  Inside the candlelit room, a willowy woman with waist-length black tresses stood next to a huge, wooden table littered with jars and bottles of colourful liquids and powders—and some shrivelled up items whose past lives Piper would rather not imagine. The woman was crushing something in her mortar and pestle. She looked up as Beth spoke, and her eyes widened.

  “She should not be here.”

  “But you told me to bring her,” Beth protested.

  “That was before knowing she is not of this dimension.”

  “Not of this dimension? Then where is she from?”

  “England, that’s where,” Piper blurted out, angry they were talking about her as if she wasn’t even in the room. “She’s talking nonsense.”

  Mathanway dropped her instruments. “Young lady, I assure you I am not in the habit of talking nonsense. Now, I do not know how you got here, but if you crossed dimensions without permission, you had better pray the Assembly never finds out.”

  “The only crossing over I’ve done is a couple of hours ago on that terraplunger thingamajig to get here, and it had better be worth the hike.”

  “That is not possible. Your aura does not lie.”

  “My... aura?” Piper almost commented that the woman sounded more like a cheap fortune teller than a powerful sorceress, but Beth laid a quieting hand on her arm.

  “What do you see?” she asked Mathanway.

  “The outer colour radiating from any being of our dimension—the Third—is never orange. This girl’s is.”

  “Which means?”

  “In my opinion, her colouring, combined with the results of your spell, means she hails from the Sixth. It was remiss of me not to take that into account, but cross-dimensional travel is so rare. It did not occur to me to allow for the possibility.”

  “So she’s from the Sixth. We’re finally getting somewhere,” Beth said. “Can you narrow it down to a realm?”

  “That would be significantly harder to do. It would require a complex spell, taking many hours to prepare, and I would rather not allow the Assembly time to discover a fugitive in my home.”