“There are more lanterns and oil on the shelf over here,” Maude said, taking a few steps to the left and gesturing to a now-visible wooden rack. “The mechanism of the elevator works on a rather ingenious system of counter-weights. It’s resetting itself right now, so we can ride back up to the bedroom when you’re ready to leave.”
Once everyone had light, they began to make their way across the sprawling cave to the only exit, a naturally occurring tunnel on the opposite side from the lift. There were old and decaying platforms and ladders all over the cavern, as well as crates and barrels, rotted by the damp, sea air. The few that remained intact were barely held together by rusted metal bands and nails.
“Was this a smuggling operation?” Alter asked, holding the lantern aloft and examining the construction as closely as he could as they passed it.
“At one point, I believe it was,” Isaiah said. “I’ve lived here my whole life and I had no idea any of this existed until Maude showed it to me earlier today. That sneaky old crone had me hoodwinked. There’s elevators here that could carry items up to a second set of hidden dumbwaiters all over the mansion.”
“It was used as a way station for the Underground Railroad as well,” Maude said as they reached the exit tunnel from the cave. “Gran always hated slavery.”
The tunnel was natural and it wound on for what seemed about ten minutes, branching off into numerous dark side passages. A white chalk arrow continued to point the true way and they encountered a second lantern station beside a long-empty water barrel, with a dipping gourd hanging from a rope nailed to the side of the barrel. They began to hear the sounds of the sea crashing, of waves on rocks. The lapping of water against something.
“We’re almost there,” Maude said.
“Maude, how did you find all of this?” Alter asked.
“I stumbled across some old journals of Gran’s and parts of it were in there, enough for me to puzzle the rest of it out.”
Isaiah knew it was a lie, but figured Maude had neither the time nor inclination to try to explain to Cline what she had explained to him when he’d asked the same question on his first visit down here. Maude told him she had used some techniques taught to her by Lady Cormac to access bits and pieces of her late Gran’s life memories. They led her to the strange key, the secret of the unused guest room and down here to even greater mysteries in the caves.
“Here we are,” Maude said, “it’s roughly a mile or so down from the plantation’s southern side. We’re hidden away in that natural cove.”
The cave was larger than the first, and yawned open to the advancing sea. Its lower half was already full of rising seawater. Strange lichens clung to the walls and ceiling of the massive cavern and gave off eerie, otherworldly light of purples and yellow, like moonlight reflecting on the deep ocean floor.
“It’s like something from a Hans Christian Andersen story,” Arabella remarked. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yes,” Maude said. “It certainly is.”
Anchored in the cave, and held by a steel ship’s cradle to either side, was a beautiful sailing ship of dark stained wood and brass fittings. She was roughly fifty feet long and had three furled masts. The carvings of the figurehead on her bow—a powerful representation of a Greek goddess, two torches clutched in one hand and an odd, tree-shaped key in the other—was exquisite. It gave the craft an alien beauty, as though it were a vessel not built by human hands.
“The Hecate,” Isaiah said. “Just as pretty as I remember her.”
“Your great-great-great-great-grandmother left you her old warship,” Alter said, shaking his head as he admired the single deck of carronade barrels visible jutting from the ship. “And I only got a tea cozy from my dear departed Gram.”
There was a set of steel stairs bolted into the solid rock of the cave wall near where the party had entered. The stairs went down, pausing at two different landings, each with a catwalk giving access to the other side of the cave and the higher points of the Hecate’s masts and nests. The stairs ended at a gangway beside the ship’s gently bobbing hull.
“She’s a beauty,” Amadia said, descending the stairs with the others. “Is she ship-shape, Maude?”
“She is,” Maude said. “In remarkably good shape. Isaiah and I gave her a good going over today when we found her. Apparently her primary construction is remarkably resistant to wear.”
“How many does it take to crew a ship this size?” Arabella asked.
“Usually twelve to fifteen,” Maude said, “but Amadia and I will manage.”
“I’m not much of a sailor,” Amadia said, “but I’ll learn quickly.”
“My Gran and my father taught me enough about sailing for both of us,” Maude said.
“I’d be honored if you’d let me accompany your expedition,” Alter said. “I packed a case upstairs in anticipation of your departure as soon as you rolled out of bed, and I procured a brace of Whitworth rifles that I assure you I can put to good use in your cause.”
“Alter, this may be extremely dangerous,” Maude said. “Each of the people we’re going up against can do all the things I can do, and more.”
“Ah, but they aren’t you, madame,” Cline said, grinning. “And they won’t have me and my amazing sharpshooting acumen. Please, Maude, let me help you.”
“Grab your gear, we’re leaving right away,” she said. Cline gave a whistle and a laugh, grabbed a lantern and departed back to the lift.
“Don’t you dare go without me!” his voice echoed in the tunnel, “or I’ll swim after you!”
“I can pack quicker than that boy,” Isaiah said, “and I’m still a half-decent shot and my cutlass work’s not too shabby.”
“I need you here to look after Father,” Maude said, “and to call in the cavalry if we don’t come back.”
“Your friends from Golgotha?” he asked.
“Yes,” Maude said. “I prepared letters. If it’s been six months and no word, I want you to send them.”
“It’s difficult for me to watch you sail off into danger,” Isaiah said. “We just got you back.”
“My girl needs me,” Maude said, “and I need you to be here to help Daddy recover.”
Isaiah hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. Maude kissed him on the forehead. “Well, hurry home, then,” he said. “This damn house is too quiet without you.”
It didn’t take Alter long to return with his trunk and two rifles slung over his shoulder. Maude and Arabella stood at the gangplank. The others busied themselves running barrels of fresh water and other provisions they would need for the journey up and down the gangplank to the ship. Amadia had her few possessions in a trunk she carried aboard, ignoring Alter’s attempt to carry it for her. She also brought aboard the stone tablet from the library, wrapped in thick cloth and secured in a case.
“Bella,” Maude said, “I have something for you. Another discovery we made down here in one of the side caves off the main passage.” Maude lifted a small casket from the gangplank. It had a brass hasp and fittings. Maude opened it and showed Arabella the contents. It was filled with ancient coins, gold doubloons, silver reals and precious gems.
“Oh my word,” Bella said. “Maude I can’t…”
“You earned it. This is payment for your excellent job as my attorney,” Maude said. “Also consider it a late wedding present and a retainer. If I ever need a lawyer again, I want you in my corner.” Maude nodded to the loot. “Besides, there are caves full of this. Apparently Gran was very successful in her … business enterprises.”
“It was my pleasure to fight for you,” Arabella said. “I don’t pretend to understand all of this strange world you live in, Maude, but thank you for inviting me in and having faith in me. It’s a crime that you were in the right, and we still had no path to legal redress. Not surprising, sadly, but still a crime.”
“We fought it with all we had,” Maude said, closing the cask and tucking it under her arm, “and I have no doubt we’ll keep fighting the wa
r in our own ways, general.”
Arabella held out her hand and Maude shook it. “I’ve heard a great deal about your mother, about her work,” Bella said. “I know she was with Stanton and Mott in London in ’40 when they were denied seats. She would be very proud of you, of all you’ve accomplished. Good luck out there. Send for me if I can help.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I will,” Maude said. “Thank you, Bella. Safe journey home.”
They hugged and then parted. Isaiah headed back down the gangplank. He took the casket from Maude, and gestured toward the stairs. “This way, Mrs. Mansfield, if you please.” Isaiah looked back at Maude. “Be safe, I love you.”
“I love you too,” Maude said.
In a few moments they were gone.
Maude made her way up the gangplank onto the Hecate. “How far along are we?” she asked. “We have to be under way very soon, or we’ll miss it.”
“Miss what?” Amadia asked, setting down a crate near the hold to the decks below.
“Easier to show than explain,” Maude said. “We need to get under way.”
“How exactly are we three going to crew this entire ship?” Alter asked as he appeared from the hold.
“Ye of little faith,” Maude said.
“I have a bit of sailing experience,” Alter said, “enough to know we are going to be sorely taxed on this endeavor with just us.”
“You won’t believe me if I tell you,” Maude said.
“After everything else you’ve dropped on me,” Alter said, “I think I am rather open-minded to anything else you’d care to throw.”
Maude slipped the odd tree-key off her neck and walked back toward the bridge deck where the ship’s wheel stood. A few feet behind the wheel was a column made of the same dark wood as the ship. The column stood about waist high and had a square tray mounted on top of it. The tray was filled with small, smooth, black stones like river rocks. Nestled between the black stones were five rough-hewn crystals, red, purple, blue, green and yellow, each bright and brilliant, seeming to glow with some inner fire. Alter began to reach for one of the crystals. “What is this?” he asked.
“Don’t touch them,” Maude said. “She’s a bit ticklish.”
“She?” Alter said.
“I told you you wouldn’t believe me,” Maude said as she carefully placed the tree-key in the tray, as she had been instructed to do by Gran’s shadowed memories from the Record. The key seemed to move of its own accord, settling into the bed of stones. There was a sighing sound, and a gentle breeze blew across the deck. The wind carried a faint scent of pennyroyal mint with it.
“Hecate,” Maude said, “is alive.”
“The ship is alive?” Alter said.
“In some manner or other,” Maude said. “I don’t fully understand it myself. Apparently Gran rescued her people from some dreadful place called Elfhame Sinister. Her people were, um, enchanted trees.”
“Trees?” Alter said. Maude nodded earnestly.
“Enchanted trees, yes,” she said. “Some volunteered, out of gratitude, to be made into this ship, to aid her in her travels.”
“So, we’re on a magic ship,” Alter said, “made out of magic tree wood, living magic tree wood.”
“Yes,” Maude said. “I know it sounds preposterous, but…”
“Oh, no, not at all,” Alter said, picking up another crate to stow. “I was discussing such matters with a talking puce-colored jackrabbit over tea, just the other day. Not to worry.” As he disappeared back into the hold, he muttered to himself, “Eat your heart out, Jules Verne.”
The memories Maude had uncovered that led her to the ship had also given her a vague understanding of its unique properties. Whoever possessed the key and placed it in the tray—which acted like the ship’s nervous system and senses, after a fashion—would be identified as a friend of Gran’s and an ally to be obeyed. It had seemed far-fetched to Maude, too, until she had spent a little time in the ethereal presence of the spirit of the ship, earlier that afternoon.
Maude stood by the column and held her hand over the tray of stones. “Hecate, we need to get underway, please.” The scent of the mint grew stronger and another breeze moved over the deck. Maude turned to Amadia. “Could you please retrieve the gangplank? I’ll release the cradle.” Maude jumped off the deck and landed on the gangplank. She pulled a pair of levers simultaneously, and the massive metal cradle holding the Hecate opened, freeing the ship. Maude lept back onto the main deck, and took her place behind the steering wheel.
“Gangplank away,” Amadia said.
“Weigh anchor, Hecate,” Maude called, and was satisfied to hear the ship’s chain rattling and felt the vessel began to drift free in the water as the anchor was stowed by unseen hands. The ship drifted forward, toward the mouth of the sea cave, as if pushed by a wind, even though the masts were still furled.
“This is powerful Bo,” Amadia said, smiling.
Maude glanced up the steel stairs to the mouth of the entrance. Isaiah stood there, alone. The old man waved. Maude waved back.
The cave slid away and they were out in the cove, under a shimmering canopy of starlight. Ursa Minor was bright overhead, Polaris burning at the tip of the Little Dipper’s handle.
“Hecate, unfurl the sails, please,” Maude said. The mint scent swirled about the pedestal and the wheel. The ship’s sails tumbled down and filled as they caught the night wind.
“I’ll go give her a hand with the lines,” Amadia said. Alter returned from below.
“Everything’s stowed, Captain,” he said to Maude.
“I always wanted to be a ship’s captain,” Maude said.
“Now you are,” Alter said. “Though I must say you look more dressed for the part of a pirate.”
Maude turned the wheel northeast, bringing the bow of the Hecate in line with the ghost-light of the waxing gibbous moon, still hovering at the horizon of the sea and sky.
“Good, we’re not too late,” Maude said. “Faster, if you please, Hecate.”
“Not too late for what?” Alter said. “Or do I want to ask, after the whole ‘magic tree ship’ business?”
“Probably not,” Maude said. Alter shrugged and went about busying himself by helping Amadia with the rigging on the sails. The moon grew larger before them. Maude spoke under her breath as she steadied the wheel. “Hecate,” she said, “you’ve been on this path before, I haven’t. I just have some pieces of old memories that belong to other people to depend on, so I need you to guide me in this, please. It’s the only hope my daughter has.”
The sweet smell of pennyroyal swirled about her, and it gave her a sense of comfort. Maude focused on the looming moon, still barely tethered to the sea. The Hecate sped ahead, the wind filling her billowing sails, and perhaps something more. The moon’s buttery, pockmarked surface filled the horizon. It seemed to Alter that it was larger and closer than the illusion should make it appear. Maude held the wheel on course. Amadia and Alter joined her.
“This is what I didn’t want to know, isn’t it?” Alter said.
“It’s a shortcut of sorts,” Maude said. The light from the moon washed over the ship, hiding the night sky, blocking everything else. “The gates are only open for a very limited time, moonrise and sunrise,” she said, “and only along very specific headings. I found the charts in Gran’s cabin. We just made it in time.”
The Hecate sailed through the gate of moonlight that was still attached to the sea, to the horizon. As it passed through, time detached from action and thought. Alter tried to speak, but his tongue felt like it might flutter away like a butterfly. Amadia’s thoughts, quicksilver, poured out of her head and splashed against the brains of Maude and Cline like whispering drops of water. “WhatishappeningwhatisthishowcanthisbeImustfocusmythoughtsmymindpullthembackintomyhead,” her mind blurted to her companions.
Maude found her vision locked on the scintillating moonlight that was now all there was in existence. Even when she blinked, when she closed her eyes, the
light remained, moving through her, through her friends, as if they were made of glass. The surface features of the moon were gone, blurred into obscurity. In this moment there was a feeling as if the solid deck was not under her feet and she was hanging suspended by nothing, and could plummet at any moment.
The cold light narrowed, narrowed even more until it was a tiny point, and then it was gone, not even leaving an afterimage on the retina. The ship was drifting in dark waters, above an empty vault of a sky, not a single star or cloud to be seen. Looking aft, they could see the opening of the moongate closing as the gibbous moon rose higher into the sky full of stars they had left behind. After a few moments, the way behind them was as dark as the way ahead. A chill wind caught the Hecate’s sails and the ship moved forward. Maude felt the wheel trying to move under her hands of its own accord.
“Thank you, Hecate,” Maude said. “Please guide us, if you know the way.”
“I can talk again,” Alter said. He looked at Amadia. “And I’m not hearing your thoughts in my skull anymore.”
“Where are we?” Amadia asked Maude.
“An ocean not found on any map,” Maude said, “but connected to almost every body of water on Earth. Only a few sailors know of this place and they guard the knowledge like gold. We’re traveling on the Secret Sea, on the other side of the duskgate. When we pass back into the world we know, it will most likely be through the dawngate, connected to the rising sun. This will reduce our travel time to England considerably.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Maude,” Alter said. “There are no landmarks here, no land here as far as I can tell, no stars. We could became lost here and never find our way out.”
The Queen of Swords Page 34