Queen's Peril

by Darin Kennedy

  “Very well.” Caesius rose from the table. “Gentlemen?”

  “We should be heading on as well.” Steven stood, and though he avoided her gaze, Ruth’s eyes burned into him. “We have quite a few miles ahead of us.” He caught Niklaus’ eye and inclined his head toward the door. “Ready?”

  The four men gathered at the door, joined by Ruth and her father. Stuart Matheson gave each his usual firm handshake, taking care to lock gazes with one Corporal Arthur Pedone before returning to the counter to serve the gathering lunch crowd. That left Ruth, her shifting gaze and shuffling feet breaking Steven’s heart all over again.

  Caesius took the young woman’s hand. “Miss Matheson, my deepest thanks to you and your father for your warm hospitality this morning.” He stepped out into the crisp afternoon air. “Two lost souls recently returned from war could not have asked for a better reception.”

  “Yeah,” Arthur chimed in. “Thanks for everything. I’d love to—”

  “Come, Arthur.” Caesius took the young man by the elbow and pulled him toward the door. “These three need a moment to say their goodbyes.”

  “But—” Arthur said.

  “Fear not.” Caesius raised an eyebrow. “I have little doubt you will be seeing Miss Matheson again.”

  Arthur’s already pink cheeks blossomed like a pair of red roses. Without another word, he shook hands with both Steven and Niklaus, offered Ruth a quick nod, and followed the man he knew as Sergeant Rex Caesius out onto the sidewalk.

  Silence filled the space between the trio that had become not quite family over the preceding weeks. Steven searched Ruth’s eyes and found there a resigned sadness that left a hole in his heart.

  “Sorry for the surprise reappearance this morning. We had nowhere else to go.”

  “You’re always welcome here.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “You know that.”

  “This is goodbye, Ruth. For real this time.” He placed a kiss just above her brow. “If everything goes the way it’s supposed to, we won’t be coming back.”

  “I know that.” She nodded subtly, her lips trembling with emotion. “Take care of yourself out there.”

  “I will.” Steven offered her his best smile. “You know, with me and Niklaus gone, you and your dad might need a little more help around here, especially if you plan to continue with your dancing.” He inclined his head in the direction of the door. “A nice regular job might be just what a certain soldier fresh off the boat from Europe is looking for.”

  Ruth laughed through her tears, her cheeks pink. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She turned to Niklaus, her gaze flicking momentarily in Steven’s direction. “Keep an eye on him, will you?”

  Niklaus smiled. “For you, Ruth, I’ll use both eyes.”

  Ruth wrapped her arms around his chest and squeezed. “I’m going to miss you around here, you big lug.”

  “Ditto.” Niklaus pulled her off her feet and spun her around, bringing a quiet giggle. “One last pirouette with my favorite dancer.”

  As Niklaus returned her to the floor, she dropped into a low curtsy and swept her arms wide. “Take care, Nik.”

  “Right back at you.” Niklaus gave Ruth a quick salute and headed for the door. “See you outside, Steven.”

  Steven inhaled to break the awkward silence, and Ruth countered by placing a slender finger on his lips. Leaning in, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and excused herself to the kitchen. Dazed, Steven peered around the deli and found Mr. Matheson at the counter doing his level best to avoid his gaze, his head shaking in clear disappointment.

  “Well,” Steven muttered. “I guess that’s that.”

  Steven exited the deli and found Caesius, Arthur, and Niklaus waiting at the corner. The air had warmed a bit since the early morning, but the falling drizzle still left him chilled to the bone. He pulled his coat close about his body and rejoined the others.

  “I suppose this is goodbye for us as well,” Steven said.

  “I must return with Arthur to our unit.” Caesius offered Steven a hand. “Even the series of carefully crafted ‘suggestions’ I left among our leadership will only cover our absence for so long.”

  “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.” Niklaus spread his arms wide and took a slight bow. “Am I right?”

  Steven ignored Niklaus and took Caesius’ hand. “You can’t come with us, can you?”

  A memory of another time and place. His mentor’s voice.

  I can advise you as you walk this path, but this task is yours and yours alone.

  Caesius shook his head. “Alas, I cannot. Though from your perspective, all of this happened long before you were born and as anything we say or do is already a matter of history, it is prudent that we now part ways. I already know far more about my future than I should, and I now need to contemplate carefully what to do with that information.” He gestured to the pouch already hung at its customary position at Steven’s hip. “Your wit and judgment have guided you well thus far. Continue to trust your instincts and may the Hvitr Kyll deliver you to your friends and return all of you safely home.”

  Niklaus groaned. “And, God willing, the right decade.”

  Caesius nodded. “Indeed.”

  “And what about me?” Arthur leaned against a lamppost, eyes wide. “What am I supposed to do now?”

  “I don’t know.” Steven glanced back in the direction of the diner. “You mind sticking around the area for the next few weeks and checking in on Ruth and her dad for me from time to time? You know, to make sure they don’t need any help after Nik and I head out?”

  Arthur grinned, every bit the lovesick schoolboy. “You don’t think she’d mind?”

  Steven shot Niklaus a wink. “I can all but guarantee she won’t.”

  “Watch out, though.” Niklaus slapped Arthur on the back. “She’s a real firecracker.”

  The four of them exchanged farewells and then Caesius raised a hand above his head and snapped his fingers. Two seconds later, a yellow Packard Clipper pulled up and the cabbie ran around to open the rear door. Niklaus attempted to climb in the back, but his six-foot-four frame didn’t fit, prompting a move to the front.

  As he settled in, Steven met Caesius’ gaze one last time. “See you in six decades.”

  Caesius smiled. “Until our paths again cross, Steven.”

  Steven climbed into the cab’s back seat, rolled down the window, and saluted the youngest among them. His simple goodbye would echo in the young soldier’s mind for the next six decades, all but forgotten until a fateful night a few years into the next century when that same voice would signify it was his turn to help a weary traveler.

  “See you around, Arthur.”

  “Here it is.” Ron Springer pulled into the small parking area adjacent to Rock Gate Park. The sun was setting and the shadows cast by the monolithic planets at the back of the Coral Castle stretched like clawed fingers onto the two-lane road. Only one other car sat parked in the lot, and Steven could just make out the flicker of a lamp in the window of Edward Leedskalnin’s tower apartment.

  “Still not sure why you boys wanted to come back here.” Ron peered through the windshield at the darkening sky. “Especially this late in the evening.”

  “We lost something, something important.” Steven rested his fingers on the door handle. “We’re hoping to find it here.”

  “Must be pretty important.” Ron quirked his mouth to one side. “I hope Ed found whatever it was and saved it for you.”

  Niklaus surveyed the walls of the massive stone edifice. “If anyone has what we need, it’s him.”

  “You know, I was a mite surprised when you boys showed up on my doorstep earlier. Not much here in Homestead to attract a couple of young bucks like yourselves in the first place, much less bring you back for a second look.”

  “More than you might think.” Steven opened the door and climbed out of the truck. “And I couldn’t help but notice a woman’s touch here and there around your house.”
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  “Things with Dorota going well, I’m guessing?” Niklaus shot Ron a conspiratorial wink.

  A hint of color darkened the man’s leathered cheeks. “She keeps coming around. Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly to turn her away.” Ron’s face screwed up in a quizzical grimace. “You boys sure you don’t want me to wait for you? It’s going to be dark in half an hour.”

  “We appreciate the offer,” Steven said, “but if this all goes down as intended, we’ll be moving on tonight.”

  “But you came back to Homestead the way you left,” Ron said. “On a bus.”

  “Don’t worry,” Niklaus said. “We’ve got it covered and appreciate all you’ve done.”

  “All right, then.” Ron shifted the truck into reverse. “Good to see you boys again. Send Old Ed my best, and if you’re ever back in this neck of the woods, don’t be strangers.”

  As Ron pulled onto the road and accelerated away, Niklaus turned to Steven. “You know, if this doesn’t work, we’re stuck at ‘Old Ed’s’ place without a ride, and last time I checked, all of the guest furniture was made out of rock.”

  “It has to work.” Steven strode toward the enormous stone revolving door that led into Rock Gate Park. “Grey said it’s the only way.” He pressed his hand against the gigantic hunk of coral, amazed again at how the three-ton stone spun as easily as the revolving glass door at the front of Macy’s. He and Niklaus stepped through the colossal stone doorway and found Edward Leedskalnin directing a family of five toward the exit.

  “I hope you enjoyed yourselves and do come again if you’re ever…” Leedskalnin stopped midsentence when he spotted Steven and Niklaus. “…back in the area.”

  The family’s trio of children ranged in age from toddler to teen. The youngest sprinted from stone to stone with the unbridled enthusiasm of the three-year-old set, her dark hair in beaded braids clacking in the near dark. The oldest, a girl Lena’s age, trudged along with her head down and her hands in her pockets. The middle child, a boy likely two to three years into elementary school, watched everything in silence, a fascinated sheen in his gaze. Their mother and father herded them toward the door like trained border collies, the man walking close enough that Steven caught a whiff of his pungent aftershave.

  “Hey, Nik.” Steven nodded in the father’s direction. “That man look familiar to you?”

  “Maybe.” Niklaus shot the man a sidelong glance. “Sort of a dead ringer for Richard Pryor, with maybe a touch of…Morgan Freeman?”

  “Yeah. Maybe that’s it.” Steven tried not to stare as the man followed his family out the massive stone door. “Still, I’d swear we’ve met him somewhere before.”

  “So, you two gentlemen came back.” Leedskalnin eyed them both, his body tense with apprehension. “A little late for another tour of the park, don’t you think?”

  “We’re not here for a tour,” Steven said. “But you know that, don’t you?”

  Leedskalnin took a step back, his eyes shifting left and right. “Listen, I don’t have much money.”

  Niklaus laughed. “Come on, Mr. Leedskalnin. You can’t seriously think we came back after three months to rob you here in your own home.”

  Leedskalnin furrowed his brow. “Then, what is it you want?”

  “The truth?” Steven crossed his arms. “We need your help.”

  “Why do I get the impression I’d be better off if you two were just simple robbers?” Leedskalnin shook a finger at Niklaus. “Something told me I’d be seeing the two of you again. A…feeling I got when you were here before.”

  Niklaus studied the tiny man standing before him. “What kind of feeling?”

  “That you, of all people, understand.” Leedskalnin peered up into Niklaus’ dumbfounded face and stretched out his arms to the walls surrounding them. “This castle didn’t build itself, you know.” The old man giggled with glee. “Not a day goes by that someone doesn’t ask old Ed, ‘How’d you do it?’ or ‘What’s your secret?’ or the like.” He snorted. “As if I’d ever tell.” With a theatrical spin, Leedskalnin sat on one of the stone benches by a nearby grotto and motioned for Steven and Niklaus to join him. “Even if I did, I imagine few, if any, would have the mental framework to comprehend the truth. But I don’t need to tell you that, do I, Mr. Zamek?”

  Niklaus shook his head, comprehension dawning on his face. “Either you feel it or you don’t.”

  Leedskalnin smiled. “Precisely.”

  Steven’s heart raced. “Do you believe in destiny, Mr. Leedskalnin?”

  “I did, once.” He motioned again to the surrounding walls. “Now I create my own.” A half-crazed laugh escaped his lips. “Did you two truly come all this way to discuss philosophy?”

  “You could say that.” Steven sat by Leedskalnin. “Strange though it may seem, I believe we were brought here for a reason.”

  “And what reason might that be, my young friends?” The gleam in the man’s eyes suggested he already knew at least part of the answer. “What is it you hope to find here?”

  “An answer.” Steven rose and rested a hand against one of the grotto’s upright stones. “When Ron Springer brought us here before, he told us you’d spent almost a quarter century building this place the first time and that a decade ago, you spent another three years moving the whole thing to where we stand now.”

  “Is there a question in there somewhere?” Leedskalnin’s face twisted, the look of a criminal wishing to be caught.

  “Only the obvious one.” Steven gestured to the ground at their feet. “Why here? Why this place? Ron Springer told us he thought you moved to a more private location…”

  “But people who really want privacy don’t sell tickets to the public for daily tours of their home, do they?” Niklaus closed his eyes and sniffed the air. “There’s something special about this place, isn’t there?”

  Leedskalnin rose and walked toward the rear of the park. “Come. I want to show the two of you something.”

  He led Steven and Niklaus to another revolving stone door at the rear of the park that made the hunk of coral guarding the front entrance look like a paperweight.

  “In 1936, I discovered that my calculations regarding the park’s original location were off a bit. Like you said, I spent three years moving this entire structure the ten miles from Florida City to the ground on which we now stand. The first thing I erected: this door.” He pressed upon the rough surface of the door with one finger, and the entire stone turned as if it were made of Styrofoam. “Ah…perfectly balanced, as always.”

  “But why here?” Steven peered around in the failing light. “What is it about this place?”

  Leedskalnin’s grin grew wider. “Your friend knows.”

  Steven followed Leedskalnin’s gaze to find Niklaus standing with his arms held wide, fingers outstretched, eyes closed, and his lips hanging slightly open as if in rapture.

  “This is it, Steven.” Niklaus opened his eyes, his gaze that of someone who just awakened from a pleasant dream. “The energies that helped build this place. I can feel them.”

  “You’re sure?” Steven asked, hope and doubt warring in his tone. He glanced down into his shirt pocket at the green dragonfly pendant that rested there. Despite Steven’s hope for some kind of confirmation they were on the right track, Amaryllis hadn’t so much as fluttered a metallic wing since they’d left New York.

  “As sure as I’ve been about any of this.” Niklaus stroked the door’s stone surface and a shiver passed through his body. “Try the pouch.”

  Steven reached into his knapsack and pulled out the sack of bleached white leather with its frayed silver cord. The pouch hummed in answer, and Leedskalnin took a step back as if he feared a swarm of bees might erupt from its tightly drawn mouth.

  “What is that?”

  “It’s a key, so to speak.” Steven approached the monolithic doorway. With each step, the pouch’s humming crescendoed, almost as if Steven were nearing another of the Pieces. He touched the pouch to the nine-ton slab of r
ock, and something akin to electricity ran up the length of his arm. He gently pressed on the gate and set the immense stone spinning. A faint glow shimmered off its rocky surface, and as the three men looked on, the door’s slow revolution began to accelerate.

  “What in the…” Steven’s words were lost in the twin cacophony of the pouch’s escalating drone and the grinding gyrations of the enormous stone. Faster and faster, the door revolved on its axis until its very substance appeared ephemeral and ghostlike.

  “What now?” Niklaus’ eyes filled with trepidation. “I didn’t come all this way just to walk into a solid stone food processor.”

  Steven stood staring at the whirling door, his fist clenched around the pouch, knuckles white. Then, in a calm even voice, he stated simply, “Take us to the others.”

  The glow of the whirling stone doubled in intensity. Steven readied himself to test his theory, but before he could take another breath, Niklaus stepped into the shimmering cylinder of light and disappeared.

  “Wait. Where did he go?” Whatever smug air of understanding Edward Leedskalnin had seemed to possess moments before vanished along with Niklaus. “What is happening here?”

  “No time to explain.” Steven stepped to the door. “Unless I miss my guess, I’m betting this train won’t be in the station for long.”

  And with that, Steven took one last fateful step and a moment later was somewhere far from Florida and hurricanes and a heartbroken genius within his hall of stone.

  Alone in the dark, Edward Leedskalnin watched, mouth agape, as the door he’d hewn out of quarried coral some twenty years earlier slowly decelerated, the silver scintillation of its exterior fading quickly to darkness. After a few seconds, the stone came to rest slightly ajar within the doorway. Edward ran a finger along its rough surface and jerked his hand away, the stone as hot as a live coal. He rubbed at his eyes and laughed aloud, his excitement interrupted a moment later by the sound of shouting voices.

  “He’s got to be here somewhere.” A man’s voice, like rumbling thunder.

  “Sweetie?” A female, her words pinched and filled with anxiety. “Are you here?”